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teyums · 1 year

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His Secret Admirer - Neteyam x fem na’vi reader

part two | part three | part four |bonus chapter

wc: 6.7k

a/n: Welcome to my Neteyam X reader series! This first part is kind of a slow burn to establish the plot so there is not much action as I hate when things are rushed. But it is cute and a bit fluffy 🤭 The events of The Way of Water never happened in this series, so this is based in the forest. Enjoy!

Neteyam is 19, reader is 18 in this series.

contains: slight fluff, as little use of y/n as possible, very minor mention of 🪦 (one time)

For as long as you could remember, you had the biggest crush on Neteyam Sully.

You couldn’t help it. He was the sweetest man in the entire clan and he acted much differently from the others. Never cocky, never boastful. It made your heart skip a beat just thinking about how he had always unapologetically been him - a genuine sweetheart and over protective from the start.

The two of you were not strangers, in fact, his presence was quite familiar to you. Throughout your younger years he would protect you from the harsh words of the other kids after witnessing you being bullied the first time. Upon finding out you spent most of your time alone and had no friends, he invited you to hang around him and his siblings with a promise of belonging. You hadn’t realized what an honor that was until you got older.

His brother and sister, Lo’ak and Kiri, quickly took a liking to you and became the friends you never had. But unfortunately for you and Neteyam, the progression of your story was cut short. As the years passed his schedule became bombarded with training duties, leaving him busy basically 24/7 and eventually causing your friendship to become less of a priority. You were hurt, but you had to understand it wasn’t personal. Once he got to a certain age, his parents allowed him to have fun and hang out with kids his age less and less; giving him constant reminders of the shoes he would grow to fill. Apparently, he had to spend every living and breathing moment training for a position you weren’t even sure he actually wanted.

Growing up, your mother told you that crushes were very simple and lighthearted. Something that was meant to make your heart flutter and your cheeks rosy. But having a crush on Neteyam was actually the exact opposite. This was Jake Sully’s son we were talking about. Girls fawned over him everyday, rightfully so. But watching them trail closely behind him as if he were metal and them magnets made your heart pang with jealousy. You knew you would never have a chance, and even if you did, there were probably so many other girls above you on the imaginary list that already had his attention. He would surely never make it down to your name once it came time for him to choose a mate.

Loving him was like yearning for something you didn’t even know existed. It was like opening your mouth to speak but remembering you didn’t have a voice to use. You weren’t a hunter or a healer, you couldn’t sing and you most definitely were not the beauty queen of the clan. You weren’t anything special, so how could you ever think you had a chance to call him yours?

“Nete-yammm” A gorgeous, tall na’vi giggled with a sing song tone, reaching out to caress any area of his body that didn’t already have a three fingered hand touching it. You cringed at the sound of her voice. That was Eyiti, the daughter of an amazing healer in your clan and probably first on his list to be his Tsahik. You absolutely loathed her, the way her eyelashes batted in his direction and how her stride became flirtatious when he was around to make the long braid that covered her queue sway side to side.

You definitely had your reasons for disliking her, one of them being that when you all were younger she had purposely tripped you and caused you to faceplant in the mud right in front of Neteyam. He had so much faith in everyone that he hadn’t even seen her foot conveniently stick out in front of you when you excitedly walked towards him. Before he could reach an arm out to help you up his dad had whisked him away, reminding him he had responsibilities he needed to tend to and at this point girls were the least of his worries.

“Is there anything we can do for you? Do you need your hair re-braided? A massage maybe?” The group asked, snapping you out of your bitter flashback when multiple different voices chirped, taking turns to offer him favors. You watched them swarm around him like vultures, his eyes searching for a way out of the circle.

“Yes, perhaps a massage! Your muscles must be sooo sore from your hunt yesterday.” Yet another voice chimed in, she literally looked like she wanted to eat the flesh off his bones and you rolled your eyes in annoyance. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

“Neteyam! Are you hungry? I can make something good for you to eat. You need all the energy you can get for your training later, right?”

“No!” Another na’vi woman hissed, latching onto one of his toned arms and hugging it. She almost knocked him over with the force that came from her launching herself at him. You watched him stumble to the side a bit, his stance awkward and stiff as his cheeks flushed due to all the overwhelming attention. Jeez, was she trying to hug his arm or rip it off his body to take it home with her? You didn’t know but honestly you wouldn’t be surprised if that was her intention, these women were insane. They looked like little girls fighting over a doll with the way they were pulling him back and forth by his biceps.

“Girls, please” He spoke softly and forced a smile on his face in attempt to not hurt their feelings, or worse; make them more hostile than they already were. “I am okay, really. I do not need any of you to do anything for me other than enjoy your day. You all are…” he paused before continuing, “very beautiful and nice women but I truly must be going, I cannot be late for my meeting with my father.”

The mention of a discussion of the future with his father earned many dreamy sounding sighs from his personal fan club.

Your face grew hot when you noticed his eyes look up at you, seemingly begging for help with an almost panicked smile on his face. You pressed your lips together to stifle your laugh, then raised your hands in surrender on either side of your head to silently communicate to him that he was indeed on his own with this. You knew he’d be alright seeing as he dealt with this almost daily, but you also knew he was growing tired of it. Poor Neteyam was too nice to hurt their feelings, but even if you tried to help him what could you do? They’d probably tear you apart if you walked up and attempted to steal him away from their grasp. You sure as hell weren’t going to draw attention to yourself by intervening.

Thankfully for him, you heard Neytiri’s sharp voice yell his name from a different direction, causing the girls around him to jump and straighten up in fear of our Tsahik witnessing them behave in such a shameful manner. And from the sound of his mother’s voice- he was definitely late for that meeting. His ears perked up in alert but the expression on his face only showed relief due to her timely save.

“Gotta go girls!” He exclaimed with haste, sounding more excited now than he had their entire interaction. You sighed to yourself and gave him a subtle wave with a gentle smile, watching him take the extra second he didn’t have to smile back at you before he slipped through the small crowd and damn near sprinted to safety.

Your smile grew bigger as you watched him escape, soaking in the way his eyes had previously just held contact with yours for longer than they needed to. A daydream would have washed over you had you not felt the glares of his desperate admirers trying to burn holes through your head. You cleared your throat to break the awkward silence and swiftly turned on your heels, realizing it probably wasn’t the best idea to continue standing there if you valued your life.

~ a few hours later ~

Eclipse had now envelloped a previously sunny day, stealing the sky away and taking the sun’s place for the rest of the night. You sat with your mom on the floor of your hut, just having finished a wonderfully made dinner. “Mama, would you like help with the dishes?” You knew better than to excuse yourself before offering your assistance.

“No no, child. Go on, I know you want to take as much time as you possibly can before it gets late.” She smiled up at you and shooed you out with her hand, the wrinkles creased next to her eyes served in reminding you of how grateful you were to have had your mother by your side all these years.

“Yes mama, thank you.” Nodding your head, you at least stacked the dishes into each other to help as much as you could before you thanked her, quickly standing up from where the two of you were kneeling on the floor.

Your mother quietly laughed to herself at your excitement as you skipped to the doorway, surprised at how you didn’t trip over your own two feet as you gathered your things. You pushed through the curtains that served as a doorway to your home and once stepping foot outside, you felt your lungs expand to take a deep inhale and breathe in the crisp night air.

Almost everyday after dinner, you would excuse yourself with the permission of your mother and embark on a stroll through the forest. At first, she wouldn’t allow you to go more than half a mile without her. Her fears derived from the fact that you were no hunter and you did not like to carry weapons, meaning you could not protect yourself if the time called for it. But upon realizing you had a deep connection with the animals of the forest (and came back unscathed every time) her rules relaxed and her trust in you flourished. Even the Palulukan paid you no mind - you would still bring small chunks of meat with you though, just in case.

You expertly leaped from tree to tree with little to no time between. After taking the same path day by day it was muscle memory by now. You used the ball of your foot to stabilize your landing on the thick branches after each jump, and your opposite leg carried you to the next. This was your favorite part of everyday, traveling through the breathtaking forest with your own two legs and being able to really appreciate the vast land you called home. The way the rough, damp tree bark felt against your toes; the small chirps and mating calls of animals below you that filled your ears. You much preferred it to flying on an Ikran; they were loud and would scare away the small animals of the forest before you could say hello.

Before you knew it, you had reached your quiet hideaway above the waterfalls. A sigh of relief left your lips as you leisurely made your way up onto the bank of the cliffside; the ground illuminating briefly in the spots where you had stepped. Careful to not crush the flowers that had just recently bloomed, you crouched down closer to the ground to collect one of the things you came for. Pulling the bag you had brought with from behind your body, you patiently searched through the vegetation until locating one of your mother’s favorite herbs for stews, and another for salves.

That was the deal the two of you had made. If you were going to be out exploring the forest without her, you might as well make yourself useful and and collect what’s needed for the house. You didn’t mind though, your mother was getting older and you would do anything to make her job easier. Your father had died during the battle with the sky people almost twenty years ago and was one of many casualties. He was gone before your mother even had the chance to tell him she was pregnant. Every time you expressed sadness about it, she would hug you and remind you that he died with honor; fighting along side his people and protecting what was left of home tree. She gave birth nine months after his passing and raised you alone. She was offered help from the village, but did not want to accept pity. “We are all struggling from the aftermath of this war, not just I.” She would humbly say. She truly was the strongest person you knew.

After gathering a good amount, you gently reclined and rested against the large tree trunk that had been supporting your back for a couple weeks now. Closing your eyes, you let the sounds of the water crashing into the rocks below invite you into a calm, lucid state - the beat of your heart slowing to a steady rhythm as you lay in nature.

The serene forest awarded you with its peaceful lullaby for about fifteen minutes before the crunch of a twig snapping interrupted your meditation. You gasped quietly, whipping your head around in alert, your eyes straining to try and see through the trees. Not many animals came this high up into the forest, mostly birds or the Syaksyuk (night lemurs) swinging through the trees above. But these steps sounded heavy and that made your ears lower with worry.

“Who’s there!” You called out, rising to your feet with your hands prepped on your bag to secure your mother’s herbs in case you had to make a run for it. You squinted your eyes at the darkness in confusion, the sounds of the leaves crunching were not frequent enough to be the result of multiple feet.

“Ow! Damnit,” You heard a familiar voice curse, your ears perking back up when a tall na’vi with long braids emerged into your view.

“Neteyam?”

He whipped his head up to look at you, his braids swaying to the other side of his head in sync with him. “[Y/n]?” He questioned right back at you. “What are you doing here? It’s late, you know.” He warned, brushing off his shoulder and looking around. “Are you alone?”

Still confused by his sudden appearance, you shook your head slightly. “I come here almost every night, and yes I’m… alone,” you spoke, your voice quieting with the last word that left your lips as you looked at him in bewilderment. Your eyes traveled from every inch of his body and you found yourself gawking at how he looked even more beautiful while under the moonlight. Your attention quickly averted when his gaze found its way back to you, raising your head and stabilizing your tone. “Forget about me, what are you doing here?”

He noticed you staring but decided against addressing it. He chuckled and shook his head, “I too come here often,, but only during the day. The forest is very dangerous outside of our village at night, [Y/n].” He said softly and took a step closer. It almost looked as if he were worried about you.

“Yes, I-” You felt the urge to take one backwards but your feet stayed planted in the grass, your brain reminding you that you’re literally standing on a cliff right now. “I’m aware of the dangers,” you continued. “But the animals don’t pay me any mind, I actually think they sort of like me. And I always bring scraps of food, just in case.”

He nodded, seemingly approving your method of preparation.

“I don’t have anymore, though. The forest is a bit quiet tonight so I gave it all to a Palulukan I saw a little ways back.”

Neteyam’s eyes almost popped out of his head as he took a step closer to you once more, in an attempt to make sure the words he heard were correct. “A- a Palulukan?” He questioned, “Like, those six-legged creatures that will tear your head off without thinking? Are you feeling alright?” His face washed over with genuine concern as he brought a three fingered hand up to feel your forehead.

“Yes, Neteyam.” You giggled at his astonishment. “I know what a Palulukan is, you skxawng.” You teased with an eyeroll and gently shooed his hand away, speaking up again to extinguish his worries. “But really, I’m fine. See?” You nodded slowly, extending your arms out to him to show your lack of injury.

“Huh, no scratches…” His eyes trailed along your smooth skin and you felt goosebumps prickle down your arms. You hadn’t remembered it being chilly tonight.

“No scratches,” you parroted, turning your back to him and returning to your previous resting area. “Come, sit with me.”

The corners of Neteyam’s mouth moved to form a small grin and he nodded his head in silent agreeance, taking you up on your invitation and sitting down next to you. He mimicked your movement, scooting back to relax against the base of the tree. A loud sigh of genuine relief could be heard from him and to you it sounded like he had been holding it in all day. You had your attention focused on the soft blades of grass that tickled your legs, suddenly tilting your head to the side with a new found query.

“Wait,” You started, earning a curious hum from him that permitted you to continue. “I thought you said you come here during the day time? Correct me if I’m wrong but, it looks pretty dark out here right now.” You joked.

Neteyam was always so lighthearted and easy going, so your eyebrows furrowed at him when he continued to stare straight forward at the waterfall across the ravine. You had expected him to laugh or at least crack a smile like he always did at one of your jokes, but he looked conflicted when he answered. “I just… I had to get away from my parents for a little while. They’re driving me crazy.” He grumbled.

Oh my Eywa, I’m such an idiot. This is the first time in years we’ve been completely alone and I’ve already soured his mood.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“No,” He interrupted, turning his head to look at you with a smile that instantly calmed your nerves. “Don’t feel bad, it is not your fault… Besides, I’m glad I came when I did. Had I gone earlier, I wouldn’t have gotten to see you.” His voice laced thick with his accent, you felt your stomach swarm with butterflies at the feeling of his large hand now resting atop yours. His warm yellow eyes glistened, looking even more beautiful to you than the stars above your heads. Your lips parted slightly while the two of you sat there appreciating each other’s presence, his smile growing wider when he cocked his head to the side at the apparent loss of your train of thought.

Your eyes fell from his and focused themselves on your overlapped hands so you could blush in peace, earning a quiet snicker and a head shake from him. “Yes...” you finally responded, looking back up once you confirmed your heart wouldn’t explode and ruin the moment. “It has been a while since we hung-out.” You smiled, your tone mellow.

The two of you sat with each other for a while. Time passed so quickly whenever you were around him that you didn’t even know how long it had been. You talked about everything. His parents, how your mother was doing, and overall what he’d been up to. There was never a boring moment with Neteyam. At one point you expressed interest in his training, but the excitement was not reciprocated so you dropped the topic and instead joined in stargazing with him.

“So… How was that meeting you had earlier, with your parents?” You cleared your throat and spoke up after a bit, breaking the silence.

He scoffed and scratched his head lightly, throwing his arm up in an annoyed gesture. “Stupid and unnecessary. They tell me the same thing everyday as if I don’t already know.”

“What is it now? Are they scolding you for Lo’ak’s antics again?” You giggled at his aggravated huff in response to your question, using this moment to your advantage and gently resting your head on his shoulder. You genuinely thought it would be something along those lines. But when he hesitated before letting you in on exactly what they were pestering him about, you became worried.

“They want me to find a mate. Soon.”

His shoulders tensed and you blinked in disbelief at his words, your body slouching slightly against his arm with disappointment. The words that left his lips were not at all what you had been expecting. “Oh…” Your voice was almost a whisper with how hushed it was and you were glad he couldn’t see your face right now. A thousand thoughts clouded your brain at once, were they due to surprise at what he said, or fear?

“I’m not ready.” His voice snapped you out of your pity party, and you remembered that this wasn’t about you. It was about him. You had to set aside your feelings and hear him out. You guys were just friends anyway, and what else are friends for, right?

You laughed dryly, cringing after at how forced it sounded. “I think you’re just nervous, Neteyam. Besides, you have loads of options to choose from. Any one of your admirers from earlier will do fine.” You shrugged and tried to sound as encouraging as possible, picking the petals from a flower that you had taken into your grasp after you removed your hand from his.

“None of those women will ever be my mate.” He stated sternly, as if he sounded offended that you had even suggested it. His voice was calm and the volume low, but the tone he said it in made your breath falter. “Those are not the kind of women I want. They only see me for my status in the clan.” He mumbled, his feelings sounding hurt.

You sat up and turned your body towards him, dipping your head to try and meet his avoidant eyes. “’Teyam…” you said solemnly. He still hadn’t met your eyes but his ears perked up slightly in response to the old nickname you had for him. Watching him pick blades of grass out of the ground to distract himself from the conversation, you sighed to yourself in frustration. Not at him, but at the fact that the constant reiteration of the importance of his training throughout the years really had him thinking such a thing. “Look at me.”

His head lifted slowly but his eyes wouldn’t stay on your face. He gnawed at the inside of his bottom lip, feeling embarrassed for even bringing it up.

“You-” grabbing his hand in both of yours, you shook it slightly for emphasis and squeezed firmly, “-are so much more than a title, and you know that. You are worth so much more. Do you hear me, Neteyam?” Your gaze held strong and your shyness had no control over you at this point. You wanted to make sure he understood what you were saying. You wanted to make sure he knew you were telling the truth. You needed him to.

His eyes finally locked on yours and it was his turn to feel shy this time. A small smile broke through his previous frown, and his eyes fell to your lips for a split second before he looked back up at you. “Okay.” He answered, sounding satisfied with your reassurance and stroking the back of your hand with the pad of his thumb as a thank you.

The air between the two of you felt electric when you remembered you were still holding his hand. Your chest began to rise and fall with weighted breaths when you noticed he seemed to be admiring your features. You cursed yourself for wondering what it would feel like to kiss him- thinking about how well your lips would pair with his. Your intense feelings for him had calmed slightly due to his absence, but now you felt them bubbling up and threatening to burst through the surface all over again.

A loud horn sounded suddenly, interrupting your thoughts and signaling the end of a day. The both of you jumped and your hands retracted, startled out of your intimate interaction.

“Oh my Eywa… I was supposed to be home almost an hour ago!” You exclaimed, sounding panicked as you rushed to grab your things.

Neteyam’s eyes widened and he immediately stood up, looking equally as panicked upon remembering what happened the last time he got you home late to your mother when you guys were younger.

“I-I’m sorry, this is all my fault. I distracted you.” Rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, he eagerly extended his free one out to help you up while sounding apologetic. “Come, I’ll take you home.”

You accepted his offer and allowed him to assist you to your feet, shaking your head repeatedly as you stood in front of him. “No, no. This is on me, I completely lost track of time.”

Though it wasn’t his fault you had stayed out much too late into the night, he was right about one thing. He was able to distract you so easily, you became clumsy in his presence. You mindlessly took a wrong step to the side, crying out in pain when your foot came in contact with the thorn bush you usually remember to avoid- it’s sharp and thick thorns piercing through your skin.

“What? What is it? What happened?” Neteyam questioned frantically, his voice loud and riddled with worry when you yelled and helplessly clutched onto his biceps for support.

Pain shot like lightning through your leg and with your eyes tightly shut you hissed out an answer. “M-my foot, I-” you managed to get out between sharp inhales, another cry of pain interrupting your sentence when you attempted to lower your foot to see if you could walk.

“No!” Neteyam spoke against your movement, sighing when his advice came too late. “You cannot walk like this, hold onto me and keep your foot raised.”

Now, if it didn’t feel like your entire leg was on fire, you probably would’ve crumbled at the feeling of his warm hand sliding between the fold behind your knee and lifting it slightly to assist you with his instructions. The two of you were in such a compromising position, yet you couldn’t even enjoy it.

“Maybe we should sit down-“

You hopped a bit and shook your head, sliding your arms around his neck to reduce the weight burdened on your free leg as he held your thigh. “The thorns, they’re poisonous,” you breathed out. “I have to get home.”

“Poi-“ His mouth fell open in shock, almost repeating the word that had alarmed him. His jaw clenched seeing you in pain, he felt bad knowing he wasn’t able to help. “Can you fly? Call your ikran, now.”

“I can’t-“

“How foolish of me, you probably cannot fly. We will go on mine.” Before you could get another word out he raised his pointer finger and thumb to his lips with haste, resulting in a crisp, loud whistle.

The truth is… you couldn’t fly even if you wanted to. You never tamed an Ikran of your own and you were deathly afraid of flying. Because of this, you traveled solely by foot and had no intention of changing that. Until now.

You squealed in fear when his Ikran dropped down onto the cliffside in an instant, turning and shielding your face from its sharp, flapping wings. “Neteyam-“

“Come, we must go. There’s no time.” He urged, his eyes locked on your trembling foot as he waited for you to move.

“Wait!” you raised your voice, only to get his attention. “I’m… I’m scared of flying. Terrified.” You gulped, now looking at the giant creature but careful to not make direct eye contact.

“You are?” His voice was soft, intent on not making you feel bad for something you couldn’t control. He looked conflicted. Neteyam was never the type of man to make you do something you didn’t want to do, but he truly had no choice. “[Y/n], I am sorry, but we must. We need to tend to your wound as soon as possible. I understand your fear, so I will tell her to fly slow. No sharp tuns or dips, yes?”

Closing your eyes for a second, you sighed and slowly nodded your head. You attempted to calm yourself and slow your breathing as best as you could, knowing there was no other option but to face your fear. He waited for you to prepare yourself before swooping his arm below your legs and lifting you off the ground gently.

You actually wanted to kick yourself. To be in his arms was everything you wanted and more, minus the raging pain paired with numbness that was slowly starting to travel past your toes. You tightened your hold on his neck once arriving at the Ikran’s saddle and he felt your body tense against him.

“Mawey, [Y/n]. It will be alright, I promise.” Delicately placing you down on the back of his Ikran, he motioned for you to swing your other leg over before climbing on in front of you. “Hold here.” He reached behind him and grasped your hands, bringing them forward and positioning your palms to lay flat on his toned chest.

Your heart was beating so fast, you were surprised you even heard his voice through the loud thumping ringing in your ears.

“You feel my heart?”

“Y-yes.” You nodded almost as soon as the question left his mouth. His heart was the only thing you could feel. Hell, you couldn’t even feel your legs but you knew the numbing poison hadn’t travelled through your bloodstream that fast. You prayed they would regain feeling so you wouldn’t fall off this giant bird.

“Slow your breathing, listen to the beat of my heart and allow yours to do the same.” He instructed calmly, fastening his hands on the reigns.

You swallowed what felt like a giant lump in your throat, scooting closer to him and leaning forward to press your front against his back as he prepared to take off. The feeling of your skin against his was enough to make your breath shudder, but you really couldn’t use anymore excitement right now. “What if I fall?” You whispered.

“Nonsense,” He chuckled lowly and the vibration of his voice could be felt against your cheek. “You know I’d never let anything happen to you.”

You pulled back ever so slightly, your mouth agape and your eyes staring at the back of his head in disbelief at how easily those words came to him. However, your moment of pondering was cut short when he beckoned his Ikran to take off, your grip retightening and your body gluing back to his instantly. The large animal squawked before plunging itself off the cliff, resulting in a frightened scream from you.

“Tamtam, Saya. We have a new rider with us, and she’s a bit fearful.” Pulling up slightly, he used one of his hands to softly pat her strong neck to soothe her. The animal listened to his demands, flying steadily and slowing her pace to a gentle glide through the air. “How are you doing back there?” He asked, as if your nails digging crescent marks into his pecs couldn’t give him the answer he searched for.

Finally opening your eyes, you carefully peeked over your shoulder and peered down at the forest below you, letting out a small gasp. Softening the grip you had on the man in front of you, your eyes twinkled with admiration. “Neteyam, i-it’s beautiful…” you spoke in awe. You had never seen the forest from above until now and experiencing such a sight with him made you feel as if you had been missing out this entire time. You almost completely forgot about the fear that consumed you just a few minutes prior.

After a few more minutes, Saya began to descend in front of your home- pulling you out of the spell the beauty of the forest had cast on you. The flight came to a gradual halt and her wings flapped in place to cushion the landing as much as possible. You saw the flickering of candle flame illuminating from inside.

Oh no. Please don’t be awake, please don’t be awake, please do not be awake.

Silently cursing yourself, you removed your hands from Neteyam’s chest. You secretly pouted at the sudden lack of warmth, but right now you had bigger issues to tend to- one of them being facing your mother. Neteyam dismounted swiftly, giving you a reassuring look and allowing you time to slide one of your arms around his neck before lifting you off, carrying you bridal style. “Not so bad, huh?”

Both your heads snapped to the entrance of your home as you watched your mother run out before you could answer him. “[Y/N!]” She yelled, not caring if her voice carried to the other homes. “Where have you been?!”

She looked worried sick, you felt terrible.

“Neteyam?” She questioned, obviously confused as to why he was with you- or maybe why you weren’t standing on your own two feet.

“Hi Ma…” You started, earning an angry glare from her. “I can explain.”

She whipped a hand up and closed her fingers, effectively silencing you as she turned her gaze back to Neteyam. “Young man, what were you doing with my daughter, this late in the night?” Her voice was eerily calm.

He lowered his head slightly to show respect. “I am sorry, I will explain everything… but your daughter is injured and we must tend to it, immediately.”

Her expression changed instantly, her eyes searching to find a wound until she noticed your swollen foot. “Oh my goodness… Come!” She demanded, urging Neteyam to bring you into the house.

“Place her down, here. Gently.”

He did as he was told and crouched down, removing his arm from beneath your legs once you sat down completely. He ran his now sweaty hands along his thighs and with his mouth in the shape of an ‘O’ he exhaled nervously, standing and obediently placing himself against the wall. He looked scared shitless and was more than happy to remove his hands from your skin in the presence of your agitated mother. You looked up at him apologetically, mouthing a silent ‘I’m sorry’.

You winced in pain at your throbbing foot, taking over for Neteyam and explaining to your mother what had happened before she could ask again. “I-I stepped in a thorn bush,” You paused, reluctantly continuing your sentence. “the poisonous one…”

She hissed in distaste, her back to you as she gathered what was needed to make medicine. “Everyday you go out, what do I tell you?” She seethed.

“Be care-“

“To be careful!” She cut you off before you could finish and you winced again, but not because of your foot. She lowered herself to the ground and propped your foot up on her leg to examine it. “You are lucky, child. The thorns could have broken off in your foot and put you in much worse shape.” She grumbled, wetting a cloth and using it to clean the dried blood from your skin.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I lost track of time and got distracted.” The pain began to subside as the poison completely numbed your foot, now working its way up your calf.

You watched her gaze shift to a nervous Neteyam who stood stiff and silent against the walls of your hut, looking at him suspiciously while he tried to find the right words to use.

“Ma, please.” You pleaded, your voice bringing her attention back to you like you wanted. “It was not like that, I swear it. He found me after I stepped on the thorns, had it not been for him I would not have been able to make it back.” You had lied a bit, but it was mostly the truth. “He had nothing to do with this, it was all my fault. He only helped me home, Mama.” You didn’t want her blaming Neteyam for something that wasn’t his doing, he had enough of that at home. Your mother was extremely protective over you because of what happened to your father, you were all she had left so she always came on strong at first when it concerned you.

She became quiet in a moment of contemplation, “I apologize, Neteyam. Thank you for bringing my daughter back to me safely.” She nodded her head, looking up at Neteyam with gratitude this time.

He smiled shyly as if it were no big deal, holding his arm with one hand as he dropped his head and shook it from from side to side, his braids following suit. He hadn’t changed a bit. Always quick to take the blame, but never to accept praise.

“Will your parents be angry with you?” You chimed in, looking at him worriedly. He already had so much on his plate, you felt bad at the thought of contributing. You relaxed slightly once he shook his head in attempt to assure you that he would be okay.

“It is fine, really. Making sure you are safe is far more important to me.” He responded, looking into your eyes and keeping them there until your mother cleared her throat to remind the two of you of her presence. “Ah, but I really should be going. It is late.” He swallowed, managing to tear his eyes away from your face. “Will she be alright?”

Your mother nodded, wiping the wet cloth along the sole of your foot once more. “Yes, thanks to you. Please, greet your parents for me?”

You watched as he brought two fingers up to his forehead then brought them back down with a slight bow, respectfully acknowledging your mother and excusing himself.

“Goodnight…” You sent him off with a coy wave, bringing your fingers up to gently rest against your lips as you watched him leave. The second he was out of your sight, everything that had just transpired in the last hour and a half began to wash back over you.

Thanking Eywa that your mother’s back was turned to grab few ingredients for an ointment, you looked to the side and picked up your bag, feeling slightly guilty. “I brought your herbs, mama. I’m sorry you have to waste them on me.” Your voice trailed off as you ushered them off in her direction.

“Nonsense. When it comes to you, nothing is a waste. We can always get more herbs, but I only have one of you. Do you understand?” She reassured, her hand on your cheek to comfort you before reaching for your bag. “You mean much more to me than any of these things.”

Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned into her touch with a sweet smile and a nod, grateful you had such a caring mother. You watched as she expertly ground up the herbs with a bit of aloe vera, her technique crafting it into paste that would aid in the healing of your injury. She dipped two of her fingers into the bowl, gently applying it to the puncture marks in your flesh.

“So…” She started, her voice laced with curiosity.

You groaned, bringing your hands up to cover your face in embarrassment as you already knew a boatload of questions were about to follow. Regardless of how tough your mother could be with him, she was surprisingly supportive of your crush on Neteyam and even encouraged it. You always made sure to tell her what a respectful young man he was.

“I haven’t even said anything yet!” She laughed, grabbing the bandage next to her and wrapping it around your foot as she continued. “Look, I just think you should go for it. You should to tell him how you feel, don’t you think he deserves to know?”

You sighed and looked down at your hands, twiddling with your fingers as you thought of what to say. “I don’t know Ma… I don’t want to get hurt. His parents want him to find a mate now, but he said he isn’t ready.”

“My sweet child,” Your mom took your hands into hers, causing you to look up at her. “He is waiting for you.”

a/n: Alright y’all, the first part of my Neteyam x reader series is doneeee ahh I’m so excited!! Isn’t Neteyam the sweetest? 🙈 I really hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! It took about three days and so many grueling proof reads, so if they’re still any typos I missed I apologize. 😅 I am actively tweaking my brain for more ideas for the upcoming parts, so please forgive me if part 2 takes a second to drop. lmk if you want to be tagged! 💞

Please like + reblog if you can it’s much appreciated 💞

#avatar 2 #neteyam #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam x you #avatar way of water #avatar twow #neteyam fluff #neteyam avatar #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam x y/n

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ma1dita · 2 months

Text

solipsism

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.1k

summary: (post-TLT) drink responsibly… trouble doesn’t; you punch luke in this lol (novelization spoilers? kinda canon-compliant)

The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. Luke visits you four times during college, in a timeline opposite to yours (doctor x river song-coded) (lore expansion & explanation here) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: i hurt myself with this one. anyways its canon (to me) that we’re roommates now !!!! more to come like i promised even during my birthday break ! scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)

(post 3/6, edited/betad @hotchfiles )

—

solipsism (the idea that only one’s mind is sure to exist)

You didn’t mean to send a prayer out into the world so strong that it would will an apparition of an Olympian, but burning cookies seems to be your specialty. Arguably, they weren’t the good kind, just the ones you grab in the freezer aisle of Walmart, and still, somehow they set your fire alarm off. Opening a window and waving through the smoke— Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home was standing next to the rickety dining table you bought off Facebook marketplace.

“Holy shit, you scared me!”

There’s mirth in her eyes at your reaction, though for all you know it could be annoyance—it’s not often that an immortal could be badgered enough to reveal themselves for an accident like this one.

“Dionysus was right. You’re too much like him for your own good,” she grins, taking a seat at the table like she’s an old friend. There’s a warmth to her unlike anyone you’ve met before—fire crackling in her eyes and an aura of serenity swaddling the air that you’ve never felt before in your student accomodations.

“I’m sorry I just… with all due respect, what’s going on?”

You go to toss the hot tray of cookies in the trash bin, before hesitating and putting them on your nicest plate. A gentle shove slides them over the table to the goddess, and she takes a crunch out of one happily.

“You were praying,” she states, like its common knowledge, “so strongly, in fact, I thought I’d make a visit to one of my most loyal devotees. Though in this case, you’re the object of his devotion, yes?”

Your hands are clasped across your lap and a familiar feeling spreads through you, then she jerks her hand up and points, “There. You’re doing it again. Y’know, it’s about time you start reciprocating the effort. Hermes’ son prays for you with intention.” You were thinking about Luke before she appeared—and hope glimmered like a tiny open flame. It’s still there, in the slow beating of your heart.

“He’s waging war with the gods. I don’t think he prays to them anymore,” you reason. Luke's offerings to the hearth must have been extinguished by the wrath he’s rained on Camp Half-Blood by now. The perfect storm.

“Not when it comes to you. Mortals never fail to surprise me. But it seems you’re a special case, my sweet. He’s made a home of you.”

To love Luke feels like having to keep a secret and never being able to tell anyone, but Hestia reaches for your hands across the table and looks at you knowingly.

“When I gave up my seat on Olympus for your father it wasn’t a sign of weakness, even if I did it so that others could be happy. I think your soul is a lot like mine in that you’ve given up so much of what you want to protect others. In turn, he’s doing the best he can to protect you; I listen to him every day, sweet girl. You are not weak for loving him still. There are generations of strength in your bones.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I search for him in everyone I meet and I’m not sure I’ll ever find that type of love again.”

These are thoughts you’d never told anyone—not Annabeth, not your father, not even yourself and surely never aloud.

“I hope you never do,” the goddess says, and you know it too.

i. no winter lasts forever (a night out after a drive home from virginia)

Flick. Flick.

“Come on, Hestia. Not you too. Don’t fail me now,” you mumble. The frigid metal of your zippo lighter rubs against your thumbs as you cup it in your hands, shielding the tiny flame that fights the harsh winter wind. Trying to focus as you lean against the brick of the Inferno, you take a deep inhale of smoke to warm your bones. Healing was never supposed to be easy.

Breathe in.

It’s somewhat of a routine you’ve made since getting back from visiting Annie. You’re a regular at this pub now—not even acclimated to the ins and outs of your sleepy college town, and though you don’t know the name of the hall your classes are in, you do know there’s a barstool in the corner of the Inferno with your name on it. There’s something funny about using your father’s gift as a form of fake id, and you wonder if he knows how heavily you indulge in your vices. Five vodka redbulls down the hatch have your knees feeling weak under the alley light until a stranger looms over you like a shadow.

“Those things are gonna kill you one day.”

Breathe out.

“Gods willing,” you laugh, stumbling over your boots and Luke catches you like he was never meant to let you go in the first place. The leather of his jacket is musky and his hair is buzzed.

Either you were wasted or uncaring of who he was (both), you toss him your car keys and climb into the passenger seat. It’s a silent ride to your apartment besides you giving him the directions and Luke wonders how bad he must have hurt you for you to lay out for a stranger and waste away like this. But he’s the farthest thing from a stranger, even in this error in time and you’re still the daughter of the god of wine so after the third time you try to put your key in the lock he helps you because he hopes you’ll let him in.

“Y’know Annie would get a kick out of your haircut. Come inside.”

You’ve always been able to see right through him.

He’s standing in the hallway with his hand around your waist and he’s already broken too many of the titan’s orders by being here, so he scoffs, “You’re not gonna remember this by morning.” But you leave the door open anyway, dragging him by the wrist and your hand still feels the same in his even after all this time. What more is there to resist when there’s not much left of him to lose?

This is the last time, he reminds Kronos, and there are monstrous hands around his brain, but yours are still gently holding his heart. The little part of his soul that hasn’t been eaten away holds on for a bit longer, tethered to your being by the way your hands are tied.

“I can, if you want me to.”

He looks ready for war, and he is— yet you have him following you around the tiny living room almost in a trace as your arms loop around his neck. Luke doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if you’d want to see him sober, especially when his absence is still fresh for you.

“Baby you look different from the last time we met,” you slur, stepping onto his feet as he takes you for a spin around the coffee table, dancing in the quiet. He’s older than you’ve ever seen him, voice deeper and colder. This is not the boy that ran from you in the forest many months ago. This is a man who’s seen horrors you haven’t lived through yet. You can deduce that he’s the cause of them too.

“So do you. Though still as beautiful as I remember,” he whispers like he’ll get struck for saying it. Your eyes are unfocused as he inspects your face, still soft and young with hope. The titan grips his features now, almost burning through his sense of self—though it’s not tangible he wonders if you could see it.

“I see you all the time. I just… usually have to drink enough to make it feel real. I just miss you.”

He looks pained at your words, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard you. Luke pushes you towards your room, an aura of darkness spreading through him like fire but he relents, pushing past the flames. He’s on borrowed time now, but Luke would gladly waste those minutes tucking you into bed.

Lifting your arms up, he pulls an old shirt of his over your shoulders, and his eyes catch onto the fact that you’re still wearing the dragon scale necklace he made you. Luke digs through your medicine cabinet while you sloppily wash your face and his calloused hands rub serums and moisturizer into your cheeks like how you taught him once upon a time. These are the things he won’t forget. Kronos can take it all away, as long as he gets to keep you. You lean against his chest and shut your eyes, scared that if you open them again he won’t be there.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you? Are you mine?”

“I’m always going to be yours,” he says with no hesitation, “Four years later, and there is still not one living thing worth losing you,” he says, lips chasing after your fingertips as you trace his jaw. Your eyes flutter in exhaustion, and Luke’s eyes survey your room and he finds traces of you that he’s missed as he rubs your back lovingly like he has all the time in the world.

Your hands cup his face, making him look at you, and he surrenders himself to you as you pull him into a kiss. He’s a ticking time bomb about to detonate in your arms. The warnings that Kronos is beating into his head is nothing compared to the pain of knowing he won’t be with you for much longer. And he kisses you like he could save you from his blaze by doing so, lips and tongue and shattered breath saying I’m here, and this is real. Maybe your worst vice is not being able to wean yourself off the taste of him.

“Tell me what I need to hear. Even if it’s not true…Even if you’re not real,” you say between gasps, and your position on his lap makes him wonder why he’d ever give the world up and burn it down when it’s sitting right here and staring at him with violet eyes.

“It’s always going to be you and me. I’ll love you until the end of my days and then some.”

You laugh in the way that drives him crazy—though he already is, for loving you still. Luke lost all sense of himself when he left camp four years ago. All that remains is you, pushing him so that his back hits the bedspread. He lets you consume what’s left of him, and he’s on fire.

You wake up the next morning with a jolt. It’s still winter, and you’re still alone but despite the chill, you feel warm.

ii. autumn years (with a familiar visitor who finally shows up on time)

Knock, knock.

There’s someone at the door, but your date isn’t supposed to be here for another 10 minutes.

“Babe, someone’s here for you!” your roommate Jo calls out, and you tell her it’s fine to let them in.

The pantyhose clings to the lotion on your thighs and you fix the bracelet on your wrist, stepping out from the bathroom hollering, “You’re early, Kit! Don’t tell me you’re skipping to the good part; I’m a lady i–”

“Who’s Kit?”

Luke’s standing in the doorway of your bedroom and his eyes flit to the reflection of your naked back peeking through the undone zipper of your dress. You look stunning, lips painted red and eyes smoky, but you’re also furious. Too bad he’s always thought you looked extra hot when you’re mad.

“None of your business. As you can see, I don’t exactly have the time for this, Castellan.”

He shrugs, closing the door behind him gently and with the raise of his brow, Luke is leering at you like a teenage boy. Respectfully, of course. The glint of celestial bronze against his hip reminds you who he’s become though.

“I’ll make the time if you say the words, trouble.”

Sighing, you step forward, but then he does that thing again from the last time you saw him out on sea, twisting the crick in his neck like he has to resist your touch.

“You’re still funny. Some old habits die hard I guess,” you scoff, turning and lifting your hair out of the way so that he can zip you up. He opts to not touch you, sliding the dress closed until it fits against your body. You think you can feel his fingers ghost above your skin, and goosebumps rise where he leaves and his breath is warm on the back of your neck.

“Leave your weapons at the door. I run a tight ship, unlike you.”

Gliding away from him while his hands are still in the air, you turn and sit at the edge of your bed, crossing your legs as you nod at him. Luke picks up the pair of heels next to where he sets the sword against the wall, and like it’s nothing out of the sort, he gets on his knees. You offer a foot to him while he speaks, “I could tell by the taser on your bedside table. You’ve killed monsters before, why a taser?”

There’s freckles on his tanned cheeks and he smells like the sun. You wonder what he’s done to come see you tonight.

“I’ve found out that not all monsters are mythical. When…are you?”

His eyes dart away from yours, securing the buckles on your ankles, and his touch sears through the mesh of your pantyhose.

“A few months ahead.”

There’s an eyelash on his nose, and your finger reaches out to touch it, but he flinches away. Face pulling into a frown, you spit, “You never slow down enough to let me catch up with you, huh?”

You can hear the microwave whirring in the kitchen, your roommate none the wiser of the sound of two hearts breaking. The both of you suddenly realize this is the first time you two have been alone (and the same age) since he left camp. There’s a silent question of if it will ever happen again as he gets up from the floor.

“So you’re seeing other people. Must’ve been easy, h—”

You punch him in the face before he finishes speaking, and all he can do is laugh. You would never let him off so easily.

“Fuck you. What, you think you can just hop in here and act like everything’s okay? What do you want, Castellan? For me to grovel at your feet and beg for you to fix what you broke?”

And you’re right, he supposes. This is the closest to peace that you’ll get in this life you’ve created without him. He won’t be able to take you on nice dinner dates like Kit can, or hold your hand without feeling like fate is going to smite him for existing. You scoff at the lack of his response.

“What happens next?”

Luke watches you chew on your lip, and even if he shouldn’t touch you in fear that you’ll will away his reason for defecting, by the gods does he want to.

“What do you mean?” he mutters. The cord of his necklace is tucked into your dress now that he looks closer.

“If I’m right,” you say (and it’s rare that you’re not), “each version of you that comes to see me knows less, and each time I see you I learn more. You were 23 last time. Why didn’t you see me at 22?” You know he won’t have an answer, but this is the only time you’ll be able to ask the real him. The one that’s yours, just a few steps ahead.

“There’s already been a lot that’s happened since I last saw you.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” you offer him, like he hasn’t already. He can feel the bruise blooming on his cheekbone and he grimaces with what he’s about to say.

“Never intentionally. I’ll try not to.”

It sounds stupid coming out of his mouth and you feel stupid with how empty you feel just watching him. He’s made a home of you, choosing moments in time to visit, but when he inevitably leaves, then what? Luke taught you how to be a home, forgetting you exist until it’s convenient and now there are things about yourself that you can’t unlearn yet don’t know what to do with.

Your roommate knocks on your door asking if you want a shot of vodka before your date starts, and Luke is already walking towards it since he’s overstayed his welcome. He raises his sword to open a portal but you shake your head.

“Go out the way you came,” you swallow, fiddling with the copper pendant around your neck, “and take the purple umbrella in the hall. It’s raining outside.”

When you walk into the kitchen moments later, the front door shuts gently and Jo’s sitting at the table with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

“Is he warming up the car? Your date’s hot as fuck, babe,” she grins, steam coating her glasses.

Knock, knock.

Your phone buzzes and there’s another knock at the door. Kit is 15 minutes late.

iii. auld lang syne (ringing in the new year with an old friend, or more)

Your apartment is filled with friends and acquaintances, but who the fuck cares anyway? There’s 10 minutes to midnight and you’re crossed out of your mind. Holding onto a half-empty bottle of prosecco, your heels clomp over to the window in the living room as you crawl onto the fire escape.

Clack, clack.

The air is chilly as you hug yourself, and you hear someone step out onto the stairs behind you.

“What are you doing out here alone?”

You sigh, not even turning to look at him, “What are you doing here, period?”

He takes the bottle of prosecco out of your hands, making you swivel your head to look at him as he takes a big gulp. He’s younger again, and it makes you laugh at how fucked up your luck must be to never be able to see him when you want. It’s always been on Luke’s terms.

“You’re too young to be drinking that,” you drawl, knees bumping against his when he takes a seat next to you. Long Island is quiet at night, and the lack of city lights is nice when you can see the stars so clearly. Music blares through your JBL speaker in the living room, and the sound of cheers gets louder when The Neighborhood starts playing.

“We used to do worse,” he laughs, but something in it sounds hollow. The breeze picks up and you shiver, taking the bottle back from him and swigging it.

“All these visits…you sure do know how to make a girl feel special. But you never come in the summer.”

He clears his throat, before leaning back on his elbows, “ I haven’t gone a summer without you since we were 14.” This Luke doesn’t know what’s ahead of him yet, but you realize that he’s right. Even now, he keeps up the habit of pissing you off and raising hell on Camp Half-Blood every summer. You notice he’s not wearing his camp beads, and he notices you shiver again in the chill.

Clack, clack.

Your heels rattle the metal of the fire escape as you readjust your position. He takes off his jacket to sling it around your shoulders and neither of you realize you’ve missed the countdown until fireworks burst in the sky above you. The red and blue reflect off the planes of his face, but what stands out to you is the orange of his shirt, and you comprehend now where he just came from.

“I had to see you. I didn’t get to say goodbye when I left,” he says, and you take another sip before handing him the bottle to finish off. The only new years’ kiss you’re getting is through the lips that hold the last remaining drops of prosecco.

You nod, remembering it all too well as you both watch the fireworks in silence. He wasn’t able to watch them properly the last time he was with you, Annie, and Percy just a few hours prior.

iv. spring cleaning (only big days are ahead for the both of you)

It’s quiet in your college apartment this morning.

The moving boxes are half-packed and stacked against the wall of the entryway and the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the French press on your kitchen counter permeates the air. Perhaps the idea of caffeine is the last thing on your mind, hands twitching as they smooth over the black polyester of your graduation regalia. There’s a few hours still before the ceremony, but you’ve never liked being unprepared. Pollux is driving your dad down the Island because despite the war you’ll inevitably be fighting in once you cross the stage and get your degree, D specifically told Zeus that he’d wage another if he was made to miss your big day.

Parting your hair to fit under the ugly graduation cap, the tassel swings in front of your face as you grab a few bobby pins from the side table. A golden medallion of Castor’s smiling face almost whips into your cornea and you stifle a laugh. D said in his Iris message last night that all three of them would cheer so loud you’d be able to hear it from Elysium (and honestly, jokes aside—he probably has a way of making that happen). A staggered breath leaves your lungs, and you’re filled with anticipation, though you’re not sure what for.

Time is a thief and you know that too well by now. After all, you’ve spent the past four years running from the truth of your heritage—dodging monsters between study sessions and grief welcoming you every time you come home. Four years later, and who are you trying to fool? While walking across that stage later you might as well take a bow. After all, your ex-boyfriend is the reason why there’s going to be a war of both blood and ichor, mortal and undying and still, you find yourself in the middle of it. You’ve found yourself fielding questions this last semester like dodging celestial bronze, the questions always a little too close to home and the answers you give are too entertaining to be considered the truth.

So, what are your future plans?

Oh no big deal, just going home and dealing with generations-old family drama. If it drives me crazy enough I might enlist!

Gods.

How do you even articulate that these past few years were those future plans? That you didn’t expect to be alive this long, much less have the comfort of feeling secure enough to dream… It’s been years since you’ve had a good dream to work towards with a boy you once knew holding your hand through it all. But the expensive piece of paper you’ll be receiving later feels fake somehow.

Who does that belong to? Surely not you…surely, someone who dreams without bearing the weight that comes with it. Someone who doesn’t have to look over their shoulder everytime they walk to work in the mornings, who can convince children that monsters aren’t real without having to lie. Psychology was a great field to learn from the mortal side of things—to know the reasons why brain chemistry affects us so deeply instead of just willing it away with the touch of your fingers. You like making people feel better. But who can ever do that for you?

A gust of wind sweeps through your room, the multicolored tassels hanging off your neck swaying from the force and you shut your eyes knowing he’s there again. Citrus and musk, and something that’s just him. He knocks over your hamper, cussing under his breath until his eyes follow your motionless figure in front of the mirror.

“Shit. I can explain, um… I thought you’d still be asleep,” Luke sputters, his converse falling into your laundry pile like quicksand. He bends over, stuffing your pajamas and sweatshirts back into the bin with fidgety hands as his eyes take a quick scan of your room. There are no pictures of you and him on the bedside table. For a moment, he wonders what that means but then his cheeks redden when he picks up a pair of your lacy underwear. He shoves that down too.

“Big day today. You know I can’t sleep when I know something is about to happen,” you smile wistfully, and you keep your eyes shut for longer, because like this, it’s almost like he’s actually there in real time. In a world where things went your way, this would be his apartment too, and his clothes would be scattered around your shared bedroom like how they used to back in cabin 12. You always used to put them on The Chair, as he would call it—but Luke’s known to make a mess of your life regardless of your efforts.

“When isn’t there? Something’s always going on when you’re around, trouble.”

Click. Scattered memories flicker in your head like images through a view-finder, spinning through your vision as you hear the sound of his laughter, gently tapping away at your heart again. Click. In the ones you pre-selected, he’s draped in sunlight, honey eyes sweet and kind, and his kisses are perpetual instead of an indulgence. Click. He’s always wearing faded orange, worn-out, but most of all well-loved. Click.

You open your eyes and they meet his own in the mirror. Time stops for once, letting you catch your breath.

Right now, he looks just as you like to remember him, as you knew him four years ago. Multicolored camp beads are resting easily against his broad neck instead of weighing him down, and he’s wearing the red converse his dad gave him. He’s too young, and so in love with you that it blinds him, but even then…now, he knows the look on your face and it makes him ask, “It’s not my first time visiting you is it?”

“You’re usually more discreet, the door right behind me wouldn’t have been your first option. But you’ve never failed to surprise me before. Tell me about your day, Luke.”

A hesitant smile crosses his face as he sheathes Backbiter against his hip, adjusting under the weight like he’s not used to it yet, and then he speaks, “We ate strawberries in the fields today, straight off the vine, but I argued that the ones you conjure will always taste sweeter to me. You smushed one against my face and I carried you home. You?”

You nod, turning around to face a ghost of your past, and the both of you meet in the middle only a hairs distance away as you admire each other.

“I graduate today. Annabeth’s driving up with her boyfriend and the rest of my family is coming to celebrate.”

He doesn’t know of Percy yet, of Chris’ insanity, of your brother’s death, and the immense hurt he’s caused everyone. The smile that lights up his face makes you realize he thinks he's still a part of this—you. And you miss him—even when he’s right here, fuck, you miss all the versions of him that have come to visit, even the ones you don’t know of yet. Tears brim your waterline as you take a deep breath; the last thing you want to do is scare him away.

“This was his promise to me. By showing me something I was sure of—and I always knew you’d graduate and make it big. Wanted to see it for myself, baby,” he grins, tangling his fingers with yours like your strings of fate, and though you know the answer to your next question you still take a chance, just in case.

“If I tell you what’s happened since…you. Would it be too late to change your mind?”

“Trouble, do you want me to? Kronos’ plan is already set in motion. I think…” he swallows, and your vision blurs without your permission as tears start to fall. Through the film over your violet eyes, Luke frowns and pulls your fingertips to his lips, kissing each one. He hasn’t done that in years.

“Did I make a mistake? Do I lose you, in the end?”

“Angelface…” you sniff, leaning your cheek against his hand, “You were so scared of losing me that you didn't even stop to think of what losing you would do to me. I lost you so long ago, Luke. And you’re not mine anymore. I don't think you have been in a long time.” In these heels, your forehead is closer to his lips so he kisses that too, hoping that somehow this time he can will away your pain instead of his. He doesn’t know what to do but hold you until you say something again.

“I’ll tell you something you need to hear. And no matter what you say or think, babe—it’s the truth. Even without all the glory in the world I would still be yours. I still am, even if I can’t bear it.”

Though he’s holding you, it somehow feels like the opposite—a purer version of him in your embrace while he holds the broken pieces of you together with his golden touch. Right now, you look into honey instead of gold. The both of you look at each other in the mirror melded together like kintsugi, something good still shining through the cracks of you two together like this.

The sound of keys jangling in the lock of the front door lifts you from his embrace, and with one look you both know its time for him to go; Luke’s brows furrow as he mutters, “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this, and we’ll be together. I promise.” You nod anyway, hoping at least one of you believe it.

“Go home, Luke. She…I still need you. I’m always gonna.”

He’s already got Backbiter in hand and one foot through time when he looks back at you. Your voice sounds a lot like how it does when you tell him you love him. Luke wonders how long it’s been since you did. Your bedroom door opens with a bang and some laughter.

“Hey troublemaker, you left the dryer on! All your clothes are gonna shrink,” Jo grins, peeking her head through the doorway of your room and she’s looking at you in your graduation gown standing there alone.

“Were you on the phone? Who were you talking to?”

It’s quiet in the apartment again. Your fingernails make indents in your palms, bunching up into fists before you let go. A sad smile crosses your face as you let the settling wind kiss your cheeks, before reality kicks in and everything settles back to how it was before.

“Just someone I used to know.”

—

“And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them, and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be, and you don’t trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy.” -Richard Siken

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?)

1/2 luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko@bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #pjo x reader #made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan imagine #percy series #luke castellan angst #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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kingkatsuki · 9 months

Text

— late

This was completely inspired by a conversation I had with my friend about her kids.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Warnings: girl dad!Bakugou, established relationship, not proof-read as always.

Word Count: 1.1k.

Juggling family as a Pro-Hero in the top 10 is never easy. No matter what you do to ensure your plans go smoothly, crime doesn’t sleep— especially not when it’s your daughters fifth birthday.

“I hate you!” Is the last thing Bakugou hears before his daughters bedroom door is slammed shut, the silence after is deafening as you watch the colour drain from your husbands face.

His chest still heaving from the speed in which he rushed home, dirt and grime stain his skin as he stands dejected in the middle of the living room. Boots that are usually abandoned at the door trudge filth through your home as Bakugou stands statuesque in place.

“Baby,” You hum, reaching around his frame to bring him closer to you as you rest your chin on his chest to stare up at him, “You know she doesn’t mean that—”

“Course she does,” He rasps, “She said she fuckin’ hates me.”

You can tell from the slight lilt to his gruff voice that your big, strong husband is on the verge of tears. Bringing his arm up to rub at his blackened eyes with the ball of his hand, smearing the eyeliner along his cheekbones.

Bakugou was used to being hated, from the public to the media and the Hero Commission. It was usually something he could brush off with ease, laughing off angry emails or poorly written articles. But it was a different kind of hurt when the words had come from his own daughter.

“She’s hurting right now,” You soothe, tightening your grip on him as his Adam’s apple bobs, “She was just excited for you to be at the party, but she understands—”

Bakugou had booked this day off a year in advance, it was always the first thing he looked at on the calendar, even before your birthday. It was his daughters special day, and he was determined for it to be perfect. Fully embracing whatever theme she’d decided on for her celebrations— this year had been a Barbie theme that had left your home embellished in vibrant pink and glitter that would probably stay embedded into your plush carpets until her next birthday.

He’d spent the previous night carefully wrapping a custom Barbie doll in pretty pink paper as you prepared the house for her party. Bakugou had even picked out an entire hero outfit that was an on brand Barbie pink, instead of his usual colours that he was planning on surprising his daughter with.

But even with all these plans in place, and even arranging backup from his dutiful sidekicks at the agency— the life of a Pro-Hero is never easy. And just as Bakugou was preparing to change into his outfit for his daughters party, he was called into work. An emergency that superseded anyone working at his agency today, as the Hero Commission requested his presence in the field.

It’s not the first time it’s happened, and Bakugou knows it won’t be the last. Even a last minute phone call to Deku to take the lead wasn’t enough to save his day, as the Commission ended up calling both heroes to the scene.

Hours later, he was explosive and inconsolable. Telling the authorities to fuck the crime scene reports and statements as he shoved an unwitting reporter out of his face as their camera crashed to the floor, certain his PR team would be in his inbox about that incident first thing tomorrow morning. But he was completely uninterested in humouring any of them today, not when he could’ve been at home with his family.

Coming in through the front door as he finally realised just how late it was when the house was completely empty besides you and his daughter.

“I should’ve been here, she needed me—”

“The city still needs Dynamight,” You murmured, “What was the situation?”

“Bad,” He grumbled, “Shithead derailed a train in the city, had a group of school kids on it. One almost— the look in his eyes when he was fallin’.“

He trailed off, scrunching his nose as he thought back to the scene. You felt his arms wrap around your shoulders as he clung to you, leaning into your warmth as he tried to calm his racing heart.

“But he didn’t, right?”

He shook his head as you smiled, breathing in the scent of smoke and ash from his quirk as soot covered his body.

“Because Dynamight is a hero.”

“But not to my own daughter.”

“You’ll always be her hero, baby.” You soothe as he leans down to bury his face in the curve of your neck, deeply inhaling the scent of you.

“I’m a terrible dad,” His breath tickles your neck as you pull back to frown at him.

“Don’t you dare say that,” You scrunch your nose in irritation, “You’re the best dad, Kats.”

“If I was, I woulda been here for her.” He scoffs.

“You’re out there keeping us safe, keeping other kids safe. Making sure they get to go home to their dads too.” You cradle his face in your palms to press a soft kiss to his chapped lips.

The sound of little feet coming down the stairs breaks him away from you as you turn to see your daughter, still dressed in her full party outfit, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey, is that my little princess?” Bakugou rasps as she comes towards you both, crouching down to her height and adjusting the pink tiara that sits on top of her head.

“Barbie princess.” She whispers, holding a piece of pink paper out to him as he takes it.

“Barbie princess.” He corrects himself, moving his attention to the words words etched onto the page as he unfolds it.

‘I’m sorry I wouldn’t trade you for any other daddy in the world.’

A smile spreads across your face at the cute sentence as you feel the muscles in Bakugou’s back immediately relax, reaching down to lift your daughter up to hold her to his chest as her small arms immediately circle his neck.

“I’m sorry I missed your party, sweetheart,” He rasps, smoothing her wild hair down.

“I’m sorry too,” She sniffs, “I don’t hate you, daddy.”

Bakugou’s lips curl into a soft smile as he leans forward to press a kiss onto her cheek.

“I love you, princess.” He whispers, nuzzling her cheek with his nose.

“Love you too, daddy.” She smiles.

“But you know you can’t trade me anyway, right?” He frowns, pulling back to meet her gaze, “I’m your daddy and I always will be.”

#bakugou x reader #soft bakugou

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itadore-you · 3 months

Text

show, don't tell

pairing: itadori yuuji x fem!reader (side note i wrote this with her wearing a skirt in mind btw) content: smut (basically netflix & chill)!! & mdni plsss w/c: 1.8k a/n: trying to get back into writing. thoughts of yuuji have ravaged my mind for the past 2 months straight

♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡♥︎ᥫ᭡

Thinking about your casual nights with Yuuji, the ones where the rest of your friends are off doing something else, leaving the two of you alone at last.

This seems to happen a lot more recently, and you just can't put your finger on why. His place is just so comforting, despite how small it is, and its clutter. You know he's been saving up recently to afford a better place. Those extra hours he's been putting in as a part-timer are starting to show their effects. It started off with him missing the group's Thursday nights out, when he opted to stay in and rest instead. You asked him if it was okay for you to come over and check on him since you hadn't seen him in a while, and soon it became a habit to stay in with Yuuji. Sometimes you'd even share a home-cooked meal because he didn't have enough time to cook dinner. One thing was for sure though, you would always stay for hours longer than expected, both of you reluctant to say goodbye.

It's late, so he doesn't want you walking home by yourself at this time. He would walk you home anyway, but isn't it so much easier to stay over at his instead? He had just finished cooking a late-night comfort meal before you came over, and there's enough for the two of you - such a coincidence, isn't it?

And the winter makes it so, so cold. You can't help leaning into his arms after settling down to watch a movie on his laptop. Pirating wasn't a good idea - you've offered your Netflix subscription to Yuuji a couple of times, but he still refuses to take you up on it, because that's the thing about Yuuji; he always, always is willing to give, but never take. The way that you're lying down on him right now - back pressed against his firm chest while his arms wrap around your centre - makes it hard for you to turn from the screen and look at him. You want to start something. You want to take this somewhere. But you don't know if he does. It's been a couple of months, being in this weird limbo with Yuuji. It started off with you just wanting to be around him more. Wanting to talk to him more. Not just more, but every day. Wanting to touch him, feel him, taste him.

But that's the thing about starting off as friends. If he didn't feel the same way, then that would end everything. And Yuuji was a great friend. Always there for you, kind to others but still always somehow makes you feel special, could make you laugh but would never make you cry. You can't let him go! You don't want to mess this up. Meeting him is one of the best things that ever happened to you.

Your heart can't help but beat a little bit faster when you hear Yuuji's light laugh - it's at some witty one-liner from the sidekick character. You didn't even hear the joke, but you're smiling a little too much as you can feel the heave of Yuuji's chest from behind you. Eventually, you break into laughter too, both of you are laughing so hard together that your sides hurt. This is when you choose to sneak a glance at Yuuji, when he's in such a state of pure joy, that tears collect in the corners of his eyes and almost trickle down his cheek.

He's so adorable.

You reach over to wipe them off for him, and his laughter dwindles, trying to keep steady for you. But there goes that handsome smile again, as he locks eyes with you, making your hand a little more unsteady.

"Sorry," he murmurs, still chuckling a little as he averts his eyes. 'Nervous laughing', as he calls it, is a typical response for Yuuji. It's when he laughs hard, unapologetically, and without restraint. It makes you wonder if he'd love you like that, too.

"The joke wasn't even that funny! I just..." His sentence trails off and he looks away, again. At this point, you have completely no idea what's going on in the movie's plot. No way you're letting him get away without finishing that sentence.

"Yuu? What were you going to-"

He chuckles nervously again, shaking his head. "Nothing, nothing. Just sit back and enjoy the film. I like holding you like this."

"Yuuji." You tilt yourself so you can take hold of his face, almost as if you're forcing him to choke out his words. "You can tell me anything. Literally. Anything."

You can practically see the cogs turning in Yuuji's brain as he thinks through his response. Yuuji runs a hand quickly through his unruly pink hair before he speaks again.

"I - No, I mean, it's just that I like spending time with you. A lot. I just-" Yuuji sighs, then continues, "I want to show you what I mean. I don't think I can really say it how I want to."

"Go on."

"But you don't know what I mean...?"

"Well there's one way I can find out," you tease him. You're really, really hoping that he's implying what you think he is.

"Okay."

"Okay?

"Yeah. Okay then."

He takes another deep breath in as you lean against his chest, and the arms wrapped around you now wander, until his hands interlace with yours. Yuuji's voice is a tone quieter as he asks 'Is this okay?' and you answer with a quick squeeze of his hand and a nod. Everyone knows that Yuuji is that one touchy-feely friend, always offering hugs and slinging an arm over your shoulder, but the way he touches you now feels different. The atmosphere has changed. Your heart is beating so fast now, you can't pull your eyes away from the screen to look at him. Even though you want him to keep going, you want to show that you want him just as badly. So instead you move his hand to rest on your thigh, firmly placing yours on top. You can tell that Yuuji is holding his breath at this point, taken by surprise at how forward you are. Maybe you should give him some time before you do anything else.

But only a couple of minutes pass by before Yuuji makes his next move. His fingers curl tighter around your thigh as he kisses your neck. It's a light peck, to test the waters, before he kisses you once more, moving along your neck. On your jawline. Languidly moving up to your cheek, his lips are soft but a little chapped as they taste your skin.

So you lean your head towards his, capturing his lips in a short-lived kiss. Both of you are hesitating because once you go this far, you can't come back. But it's so clear that you now both want each other. The realisation makes you start to bite the inside of your cheek as you turn around quickly to keep watching the movie - Yuuji wants you back. Just as much as you want him. Even though you know this, it still doesn't feel real.

Have you made things awkward? You didn't mean to. It all just happened so quickly, the blur of a kiss and a glimpse of his soft brown eyes. You didn't mean to turn away, you want to continue. His hands clasp yours worriedly.

"Y/n? Are you sure this is okay?" His voice wavers as he fiddles with the rings on your fingers. If you want to go further with Yuuji, then you're going to have to show him.

"Yes, Yuuji. I want you to."

With that, you place his hands on the inside of your thighs. "Please."

He nods from behind you, going slightly rigid for a moment at how breathy you sound asking for him. "Okay."

Then he starts to really touch you. Massaging the inside of your thighs as he murmurs that you should 'keep watching the film'. You're holding your breath every time he drifts further and further up, and you're struggling to focus on the screen; opting to fix your eyes on the subtitles instead. He stops from time to time, only to restart lightly brushing his fingers over the tops of your thighs, and eventually, his fingers disappear underneath the hem of your skirt, still going higher. You can't help trying to look at Yuuji from the corner of your eye - is there a light blush on his cheeks?

"Pay attention, this is the good part," he whispers to you, gently taking hold of your face to keep your eyes trained on the screen.

You start to relax in Yuuji's arms until, just for a moment, he grazes over your underwear, right against your clit. The brief contact with such a sensitive part of you makes you jump a little, as if every nerve on your body lit on fire at the same time. You want more, and this slow tension has been killing you inside. And Yuuji knows it.

"Just relax into me. I'm going to make you feel good," he whispers, as he rests his fingers on your clit again, beginning to trace small circles onto it. With each and every movement, Yuuji is precise, and he can feel your wetness through the fabric. He presses a couple more kisses onto the side of your neck every time he stops touching you, teasing you over and over to delay your orgasm. He can tell that you're feeling especially close when you try to cross your legs, forcing his hand even closer to you, but his steady hands stop you every time. You're positive that your panties are completely soaked through at this point, but it gets even better. Yuuji's deft fingers then pull your panties aside, and they delve into you.

A thumb is kept steady on your clit, whilst he pumps his fingers into you. Yuuji never goes beyond a certain speed, making sure that you feel each and every stroke of his fingers against your walls. Your soft gasps of his name spur him on as he starts to suck on the side of your neck, thrusting deeper with his fingers until he finds your sweet spot - the part of you that is most sensitive. You cry out when he curls his fingers directly up into your g-spot again; It's impossible to hold back anymore.

When you cum, your body almost goes limp - Yuuji groans lowly in response, feeling the way how your hole contracts around his fingers. He can only imagine how that tightness would feel around his dick. He is slow to pull his fingers away from you, still slowly pumping them in and out after your orgasm.

"Fuck... Yuuji....."

His heart tightens in his chest at how breathless you are, how weak you are for him.

"Do you get what I was trying to say before ...?"

"Yes, Yuuji. Yes."

That's all he needs to hear for now. The end credits of the movie will roll soon; whatever has begun between the two of you, is to be continued.

#yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #yuji x reader #yuji smut #yuji x you #itadori x reader #itadori smut

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dreamescapeswriting · 2 months

Text

Royality ~ SCB

CONTINUATION OF THIS PIECE

WORD COUNT: 3.2K

GENRE: Mafia AU, SMUT MINORS DNI, mafia changbin being a huge simp for yn, pulling off a job together, first time, cute, fluffy, blow job, unprotetced sex,

PAIRING: Changbin x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of blood, killing, stealing, heists

"I'll come and get you every night from now on. I don't want anything to happen to you," When Changbin had first said it to you, you thought he meant that he was going to keep sending a driver out to you but you couldn't have been more wrong. For the last 12 months, whenever you were working, Changbin was waiting outside of your apartment with a warm drink ready to take you to work.

The arrangement had been simple and kind of him and you got to know him over the nights you'd spend together. You loved getting to spend this time with him and you'd grown so close he was beginning to include you on his plans and jobs.

Over the last few months, you'd sung in different clubs he was frequenting while his men and other ladies robbed and stole from people in the crowds. Tonight was a little different though which you could tell was making Changbin a little more nervous than usual. It was his last big heist for a long time, after tonight he was strictly going to be on his own business deals instead of getting involved with the dirty work but it was still strange to see him so anxious about something.

It wasn't like him to be nervous about any of his jobs but since bringing you into them he'd grown protective over you and worried that you'd get hurt because of him. If something ever happened to you he was sure he wouldn't be able to survive it and that scared him more than anything else in the world.

No one should have that much power over someone and yet when it came to you, Changbin would lay his life on the line or throw himself in front of a bus if you ever asked him to.

"Binnie, you okay?" Your voice came out soft making him remember what he was doing and who he was in the car with. He slowly turned to glance at you, nodding before his eyes went straight back to the road. But you knew something was bothering him since his knuckles were starting to turn white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel.

"Are you sure you're up for this tonight, princess?" He asked, using the affectionate nickname he'd given to you long ago and it made your whole body tingle. A flicker of concern crossed Changbin's voice and you smiled a little.

"Of course, Binnie." It was your reply every single time he asked you to join him on a job and it would continue to be your answer.

"I'm always ready to light up the stage," You smirked at him. It was your job to sing for the crowds and distract them enough so they wouldn't realise that they were being robbed. Changbin's job was to be overly friendly with the owners, and keep himself busy with them so they'd have no idea he was in connection with them and when the news would break out about the robbery. Changbin would be there to offer his protection - with significant pay that was.

"That's my girl," Changbin beamed in admiration of you. Tonight was going to be the last job and the biggest one either of you was going to pull off. Inside the club there were going to be billionaires, it was a special night for them with the club owner working closely with Changbin to pull something huge off.

You hadn't known all of the details, just that you'd be singing for the rich and famous who would be wowed by you and many of the female dancers that would be with them on the floor.

"Tonight is the last one, after this, we'll be royalty," Changbin smirked and you rolled your eyes at him. Changbin was already Royalty, everyone knew who he was and he was rich beyond anyone's wildest dreams.

"You mean you'll be king," You teased him softly, Changbin reached his hand across and gently squeezed your thigh.

"You'll be on the throne right beside me if you wanted, princess, you know that." He winked as he rounded the corner to the club.

The neon sign flickered outside and he sighed a little, it was now or never for him and he slowly got out of the car, walking to your side and helping you out.

"Remember, Princess, stick close to me. We don't know who might be lurking in the shadows." You resisted the urge to tell him that he'd found you in the shadows as a man began making his way toward you. As he got closer you recognised him from a charity gala not long back, he was one of Changbin's closest friends.

"I've got your back, Binnie. Just like you've got mine." You promised, quickly kissing his cheek making his cheeks flame a little, he stared at you before someone gripped his shoulder.

"Changbin! Yn! So wonderful you could join us tonight." Lorenzo greeted, taking your hand in his and kissing the top of it gently causing Changbin's blood to boil.

He hated that people would touch you whenever they wanted to, if it was down to him it would only be his hands allowed to grace your body.

"I didn't think you'd be able to make it tonight," Lorenzo said, turning his attention to Changbin who gave him a simple and smug smile.

"And miss my girl sing? Never." You smiled, your body heating up as he called you his girl.

Your relationship with Changbin had been strictly professional when everything had started but as you grew closer the lines began to blur and you'd flirt back and forth with one another.

You didn't know what was a joke and when he was being serious with you and to be honest, you didn't care. The attention you got from him was something unlike you'd ever felt before and you never wanted that high to end.

"The stage is ready for her, but she won't be able to go on wearing that." Lorenzo dragged his eyes slowly up and down your body as you frowned. You were wearing a red floor-length gown, backless and sexy something you'd wear for almost every single one of your performances.

"It's not sexy enough." Lorzeno shrugged as you all walked through the back door of the club toward a dressing room door.

"And what do you suggest she wear?" Changbin grumbled folding his arms over his chest, the door to the dressing room opened and Lorenzo smirked,

"Something to match the dancers." He gestured to the girls that were all wearing black mini skirts or shorts, some even in underwear that you could have sworn were riding up their asses. But Changbin was seething, there was no way he was going to let you display your body for some sick fucks who were going to oogle all night long at you.

"Over my dead body."

"People will find it suspicious," Lorenzo grumbled at him,

"Like hell, she won't be wearing-" You knew the two men were only going to continue bickering so you sighed and shook your head.

"Just hand me something in my size, and I'll make it work." Lorenzo headed into the changing room to find you something and Changbin shook his head.

"You shouldn't have to." He pouted a little, he hated the thought of you having to flaunt your body like this,

"It's the last night, right? It'll be the last time and then it's back to dresses and only singing at your club." You reassured him but Changbin was shaking his head at you.

After tonight he wanted you to be by his side, the queen next to him on the throne it was all he'd been wanting for months but he had no idea how to tell you,

"You don't have to sing at my place." He said simply making you giggle a little. If you didn't sing at his place you'd be down on money and you needed that to live,

"I'd be out of a job, Binnie. I need my job."

"Not if you came to stay with me." The air turned thick as you stared at him, wondering if you'd heard him correctly or if your mind was playing games on you.

"What?" You waited for him to tell you he was joking, or that he was just thinking out loud but he stared at you with a serious and unreadable expression.

"If you stay with me, be by my side in all of this..." You stayed silent, neither of you speaking as you tried to figure out what he meant. You needed him to come out and say it to you instead of playing games,

"Binnie...Are you asking what I think you're asking?" He gently ran his hand over your cheek and smirked at you

"We'll be royalty, King and Queen. No one would ever fuck with us again," He spoke so surely of himself you weren't going to argue back with him.

"I'd-" You were cut off by Lorenzo holding up a hanger with clothes on for you.

"People are arriving. Out in the bar Changbin, we need to make this good." Changbin didn't have time to protest as he was shoved out of the side door and you were left alone to smirk to yourself.

You'd rule by his side, that was what he was asking you and you couldn't stop the smile that was beginning to grow on your face.

If Changbin was pissed at Lorenzo before for taking him away from you he was more pissed at what he'd seen the man dress you up in right now.

You were donned in a black leather mini skirt with a black bralette covering your breasts - barely anyway. They were a sheer material with roses covering your nipples, the sight of which had made Changbin hard the second you'd stepped onto the stage and he was sure his pants were going to explode any second now.

"One final song for the night," You spoke into the mic, smirking in Changbin's direction as the band began to play an upbeat song for you. The girls out on the floor started to dance for the men who had their eyes on the women and you all night long.

It had been a long night of Changbin trying not to kill anyone for complimenting your outfit. Every single person it seemed had something to say whenever you'd move on the stage and it grated on him more than he thought it would have and Lorenzo was loving every minute of it. Seeing his friend so riled up it was worth every single grumble he heard back from him.

"She's very good, I wonder if she charges by the hour." Someone chuckled from in front of Changbin making him squeeze his glass so hard it shattered all over his hand. But he hadn't noticed you coming over to him, gently sitting on his lap. A smirk grew on your lips when you felt how hard he was beneath you, your confidence growing more as you sang directly to him.

"I'd take over the country, everyone would bow to me." Your voice was angelic as you sang along to the band, running your hands gently over Changbin's tie and twisting it around your fist.

"Sit up in my palace and baby you'd be my King. We'd run this ship together, just you wait and see...We'll be royalty." You sang the final line before biting his ear softly, giving Changbint confirmation to his earlier question he'd been dying to know all night now.

"Girl it's ride or die." He smirked, running his hands down your hips as he dragged you closer to him, groaning as you ground your hips against him forgetting for a minute that you were in a crowded bar until someone cleared their throat behind you.

"When you're done with her can I use her, I don't mind sloppy seconds." You barely had time to react before the man was on the floor, a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. You didn't even flinch or scream, it was something you'd grown used to after spending so much time with Changbin.

"He was disrespecting you." He said plainly making you giggle as he stood up, taking your hand in his. People stared over at you in horror but your hands were caressing Changbins chest softly

"Does anyone else here have anything that they need to say about my girl?" He turned his attention to the group who all turned to look at their laps and Changbin smirked.

"I'll come and help you get dressed." He suggested as you slowly made your way through the crowd and back toward the stage door.

"Do you think I need help?" You asked in a teasing tone only for Changbin to grab your ass softly and squeeze.

"Maybe." He winks dragging you toward the backstage door.

"Out." He growled at the people who were back there who quickly scampered out of the room leaving you both alone.

"So you'll be King and I'm queen?" You questioned, running your hands over your bralette and smirking as Changbin's eyes never left you.

"Whatever you want princess, it's yours." He promised as he slowly stalked toward you, but you shoved him down onto the sofa that was inside the changing rooms and smirked at him.

"I want you, I always wanted you." You breathed out, slowly sinking to your knees in front of him. You palmed his coc through his pants, feeling him strain against the material as he let out a disgruntled groan from how slow you were going.

"Princess. I need you, you don't have to do this," He whined as you slowly began to pull him free from his pants until he was naked in front of you, your mouth watering at the sight of him. You'd wondered how big he was before and nothing you'd been imagining had been like this. You wrapped your palm around his cock and began to pump him slowly, rolling your wrist as you circled the tip at a slow and steady pace,

"F-Fuck, princess." He groaned out, rolling his hips up to get you to move a little face as he greedily searched for more from you.

"Patience, Binnie." You giggled before running your tongue along the tip of his cock before you moved to wrap your mouth around him. Your tongue swirled along the underside of his length, tracing the veins as you slowly lowered your head. Your eyes shut as you bobbed your head, trying to take as much of him as you could at a steady pace.

"Shit princess, you're so good at that," He moans out loudly, your hand moved to cup his balls squeezing them teasingly between your fingers up he grunts loudly.

"Shitting hell," His hands gripped the sofa cushions as he tried to list baseball players in his head preventing him from finishing too soon.

"S-Stop, I'm too close," He moans out, you slowly pull away from him and giggle a little.

"You don't want to cum?"

"Not in your mouth." He growled before dragging you onto his lap, kissing you hungrily while wrapping his arms around your waist and dragging you closer to him.

"You're going to be the death of me." He moans out against your lips, your hips grinding against him as he practically rips the leather skirt off you.

"I'm on the shot, please Binnie." You didn't care how desperate you sounded as you watched Changbin line himself up with you before pushing inside of you, filling you to the hilt.

"F-Fuck, Binnie you're so big." You cry out, your eyes screwed shut as you clutched onto him trying to adjust to him. It was only a few seconds before he gripped your hips and slammed into you again and again, his cock driving into you and hitting that one spot that made your toes curl.

"Just like that!" You cried out, your hands dragging down his bag as you searched for anything to cling onto. You held onto him as your head rolled back in ecstasy, the pressure inside of you building as it hit near breaking point.

"C-Changbin!" You cried out, grinding your clit against him on every stroke of his cock,

"Good girl," Changbin groans, biting down on your nipple as your skin is covered in goosebumps.

"Look at the mess you're making, princess," He grunts as he looks down between you, his thrusting getting rougher each time.

"Maybe I should make you lick it clean while I fuck you," He moans out, your hips circling as you cried out his name. Your orgasm slams into you making your back arch from the sofa.

Within a couple of seconds, you were on the floor though, on your knees in front of the sofa with Changbin behind you, pushing into you as you cry out his name again clutching onto the sofa in front of you.

"Good girl," He groaned, running hands down your back as he gripped your hips tightly and began to pound into you. Your mind felt as though it was blank as he continued to fuck into you, completely knocking the air out of your lungs.

"Do you want everyone to hear how much you love being fucked?" He moans out reaching in front of you and pinching your clit sending you over the deep end again as you screamed his name out, cumming around him as you heard him grunt a little until his hips came to a slow stop.

"Fuck, you're so perfect," He moans out, kissing your shoulders softly as you both lay there sweaty and panting together enjoying being close.

"That sounds awful, I'm so glad you're okay." You said to Jisung's girlfriend, Who had been telling you all about how she'd been caught up in a bank job a few months back with a gun pressed against her head.

"We will date dangerous men," Hyunjin’s girl said said making you giggle, and turn your attention to the quietest one with you. It was Seungmin’s date and she’d been left with you while the guys had left to go and talk business leaving you all to gossip about them behind their backs. Seungmin’s girl had only been out with him once, meaning this was their first date and you worried it was scaring her but it seemed to fuel her more as she beamed with excitment.

"My ears are burning," Changbin chuckled as he snaked his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, you quickly kissed his lips softly.

"All good things," You promised as he smirked down at you,

"I hope so, I hate to think of my baby girl bad-mouthing me," Chan said as he grabbed his wife from behind and kissed up and down her neck making everyone chuckle in the small circle that was forming.

"I hate you," Someone grumbled as Felix stood behind her, you'd not been introduced yet but she'd been fairly quiet since getting there.

"I hate you more, my little firecracker" Felix smirked down at her before she swatted his hands away from her.

"Muse, little muse is making a fuss, we have to go," Hyunjin said before he and his wife made an exit and you dragged Changbin onto the dance floor.

"I'm sorry about them all," He mumbled before you loved it, spending time at events with them was fun.

"I like it, it's like a mini family." You giggled, swaying with your fiancé on the dance floor.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp

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askdiscordwhooves · 4 months

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This update was drawn by me, @jitterbugjive

I want to address one thing that I KNOW some people are going to complain about because they've already complained about if it would happen, and that’s The Doctor and Derpy getting together in the end. I understand the concerns. This is in no way meant to say ‘your abusers will eventually change for the better if you just say the right things to them’. This isn’t that kind of story. These are special circumstances that DO NOT EXIST in real life where the abuser was under MAGICAL mind control. That’s not who he actually is and when he’s himself he’s not remotely an abuser. He is safe from having a relapse, the curse is gone and over with because the core Discord was killed while the fragment left over in their universe has been reformed.

Real abusers are not under any kind of puppetry or mind control when they do what they do, and no not even getting drunk counts as this because when someone is an abusive drunk they’re still choosing to get drunk when they are well aware of what they do when under the influence. If The Doctor did any of this abuse on his own terms, I wouldn’t have let them get back together. I’m an abuse survivor, I know better than that. When you try to compare completely fantasy scenarios that can’t happen in real life to.. Well, real life, you’re kind of reaching at straws at that point. Besides, this relationship wasn’t automatically better just because he returned to normal. Both of them suffered damage and trauma and both needed to navigate around it to be able to trust one another again. If there’s any kind of comparison to make, it’d be more like a loved one suffering a psychotic episode and doing horrible things they’d never do in their right mind. And some people are able to understand and forgive, while others are not. The pain of having a psychotic episode and saying and doing things that hurt people is really hard to overcome, it’s hard to trust yourself and it can be hard to make amends. But a psychotic episode does not dictate who a person is. It just doesn’t. And that’s the closest thing to reality this story is. I tried to handle this as best I could, because in my line of work recovery is the most important thing and I understand that someone coming out of a bad episode needs support and compassion (Unless they’re a terrible person in general) and there have been extreme cases where perfectly good people end up going as far as murder- even murdering their own children, but their loved ones are able to reason that they were sick and they are going to suffer great pain upon realizing what they’d done, and they are going to seek help. Maybe you wouldn’t be able to forgive someone who did terrible things in a psychotic state, and that’s within your right, but it doesn’t mean people who can forgive are any less valid. Listen, if a husband can be capable of not blaming his wife for killing their kids in a psychotic state (a very real event that happened rather recently, simply google “wife psychosis news killed children husband forgives” and you’ll find it), it's perfectly reasonable that someone can forgive someone who was under magical mind control.

If you are in a physically abusive relationship, you need to get out of it. The likelihood of this person changing for the better is extremely low, and you can’t cling to the idea of the rare few people who manage to work through these kind of things. Those are very special circumstances and in my opinion if there’s a relapse into violence after making genuine efforts to change, that should be the end of it once and for all. It shouldn’t be happening to begin with, it should not be tolerated. You matter, you deserve to be treated with kindness and compassion. Never let anyone tell you or make you feel otherwise. Please take care of yourselves, and DO NOT use this story as a basis for how to manage your own relationships, no matter how much you might think you see yourselves in it. This is fiction, and the scenarios in this story do not happen in real life. If you can’t discern reality from fiction, that is all on you, not me.

#discord whooves #doctor whooves #my little pony #derpy hooves #dinky #sparkler #warden #aurora #pierce #neosurgeon #carrot top #jack harkness #disclaimer

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neteyamswifee · 1 year

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ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ; ᴀᴏ‘ɴᴜɴɢ xᴏᴍᴀᴛɪᴋᴀʏᴀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary: You and Ao‘nung are on your way to collect special fruits for an Assembly of the Mitkayina Clan, but things are getting weird and… hot?

Warnings; Fluff, Kissing, sexual …talk? Enemies to Lovers, mentions of death (hate that) lol thats it enjoy

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"Aonung wait." I hissed, kicking some leaves out of the way. Below me the wet grass between my toes. We must have been walking for almost an hour now and the bag in which I was collecting the fruit for the Metkayina assembly almost overflowed. "What's the matter? Can't you keep up?" Ao'nung taunts and swings over a tree trunk closely followed by me, who somehow struggles over it.

I was sure we'd had enough and all this fuss was just to annoy me. After all, I was allowed to carry the heavy bag, although he always talked about how strong he was. Idiot. With ease he pushed some branches to the side which then almost killed me. I was angry and I wanted to push him off a cliff. After I had overcome the last dangers that Ao'nung had exposed me to, we entered a sandy beach. Almost a bay I would say. The waves hit the rocks and far behind I recognized the spot where our ilus were waiting for us.

"You're kidding me, aren't you? We could have just come here straight away, then we would have saved ourselves the difficult journey." I snapped spitefully. Me and Ao'nung have always had our...differences. In the beginning he was really likeable to me, until he became an absolute ass. After Neteyam's death he dropped this whole macho scam and I was free from him insulting me everyday but I'm still being screwed 24/7 until I can't anymore. Fine, from time to time I'll take revenge and sometimes it's even funny. Still, I can hardly judge Ao'nung at all.

"Don't get so upset, the way is the goal." he laughs and sets off into the bushes to pick whatever I'm allowed to carry anyway in the end. Rolling my eyes, I put the bag down and stretch. A moment later, Ao'nung comes back out of the bushes. He walks over to me at the end of the beach and holds out a pink prickly fruit. I look at them both skeptically and raise an eyebrow.

"Thanks, but I'm poisoning myself." I decline with a grin. But Ao'nung doesn't let go of me, pulls out his knife, cuts off a piece and puts it in his mouth. "Something of poisoned." he whispers, dramatically holding his stomach. I suppress my laughter and just roll my eyes. Again he cuts off a piece and puts it in front of my mouth. "here." I try to reach for it but he pulls his hand away. "I thought you wanted me to try?" I ask. "Yes-but not that you hurt yourself." Only now do I recognize the barbs on the shell. However, he doesn't seem to mind. "bite off."

Somehow I don't really feel comfortable with it, but I bit it off and felt his cold fingers. Juice dripped from my chin, which Ao'nung brushed away with a gentle movement, and then licks his finger. I freeze, barely able to breathe. I was beyond confused, and somehow, …suprised."

" swallow." he breathes softly and raises his eyebrows. My head is a red room full of panic signs that glow brighter than neon lights. "wa-what" I bring out with my mouth full. "I said swallow." I get goosebumps. At no point did I think that Ao'nung's words could provoke a reaction of this kind, but I press my legs together and swallow the sweet fruit. Ao'nung eyes wander up and down my body, knowing what that just was. Funny, I would also like to know that. I swallow again.

"Do not look at me like that." I command him. "How am I looking at you?" smiling, he takes a step towards me, his eyes look deep into mine. "N- well the way you're looking at me. Stop that." "I can not." he blurts out.

Fuck. I think to myself, undecided whether I should just kiss him or run away. Then being confused because of my own thoughts. Ao'nung was all flirtation... just not usually with me. "You know, then just turn around or-" I keep getting quiet until my air to breathe is replaced by Ao'nung's lips. While I still hold my hands in the air in surprise, Ao'nung throws away the knife in his hand and grabs my waist. I reflexively wrap my hands around his neck.

The moment he lays me down on the sand, I forget all my principles and pull him down to me. I feel the cold sand beneath me, Ao'nung hands in my hair. I pull away from him, breathing heavily.

He just grins, with those cute dimples and his perfect eyes. "okay that was… quick." I gasp, trying to cover my nervousness with a laugh that only makes it more obvious. "fast?" he asks, looking at the air thinking. "Well, this is the first time you've let me get closer than a foot without hitting me, you're actually pretty slow today." embarrassed, I put my hand in front of my face. His confident flirting makes me more than nervous. "Don't talk such nonsense, there were at least a two." He licks his lips and presses another kiss on my lips. "You could hit me right now and I'd still want you, not gonna lie."I clench my teeth tightly and still roll my eyes in shock at what just happened.

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Send in what you want me to write:)

#avatar smut #avatar kiri #avatar neteyam #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar jake #avatar ao‘nung #Jake sully #neytiri #aonung x reader #aonung #tuktirey #way of water #Lol idk im just trying to safe you needy people from getting no Avatar smut

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antidesire · 1 year

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a lazy lil rushed piece about (id/vendetta/di) leon eating you out, that’s all,, afab!reader

prickly stubble tickled and grazed the supple fleshy skin of your inner thighs- your body jolting and a faint yelp that would spill from your plush lips, bitten and glistening with a mixture of gloss and salvia from you and your boyfriend, leon, currently underneath you, in between your thighs.

“i’m not gonna bite you, honey.” the chuckle that vibrated in his throat ignited a domino affect of goosebumps scattering along your skin, reminding you how close he really was.

both leon’s hands were cupped at your thighs, casually slinked around them, rubbing and massaging fingertips into the plump of your skin, a gentle encouraging push to ease your hovering, surprised gasp erupting from your mouth when the tip of his nose came in contact with your clit, sparking the bundle of delicate nerves, “m’sorry sweetheart, i don’t mean to be impatient, you just smell so sweet..” he sighed out and you didn’t miss the way his brows furrowed, as though he was stressing in that beautiful head of his.

“you can sit down, i got you, your legs must hurt hovering like that.” he glanced up, speaking once again before you could worry about hurting him, as if, “i’m your big, strong, old man, don’t worry bout’ me.” he winked, “can handle sweet little things like you, my speciality.”

you couldn’t bear hear it anymore, thighs giving in, a ache lingering from holding yourself up- even though leon had been supporting your weight. “y-you’ll go slow?” you asked in something no more than a whisper.

you got no reply from the man beneath you though, about to speak up again incase he didn’t hear you but you broke out into a spew of mewls upon feeling his tongue dart out, taking a long drawn out lick of each of your labia before an even more painstakingly long lick in between, and gods, he knew he was already in love but surely this sealed the deal.

anyone may have found it overbearing, maybe silly that you were already so worked up it seemed but he just found it cute, so very cute, everything you did, your entire being, to him was cute.

and right now you smelt like that florally, fruity fragrance he bought you, and that some expensive soap from those hotels you’d been to whilst travelling with him.

you tasted even more addicting than you smelt, a sweet venom that lured him further and further.

you asked him so prettily earlier, he was really intending to do as you wish, be sweet on you, go slow but his senses were blurring along with his self restraint- if he weren’t stabilised on the bed, head between your pillowy thighs his own knees would’ve been trembling.

“leo— hghhnn!” you squeaked, hand flying up to cover your mouth, in a meagre attempt to muster up some composure.

oh but only if you knew your delicate little sounds only egged him on further, his tongue dashing out with much more force, a little sloppy but he’d chalk it up to how pretty and wet you already were.

his tongue was fucking you open, pussy slick with spit and your pearly arousal, and you only got increasingly pathetic sounding when the tip of his nose smushed against your clit, the friction and nudging adding a delicious sensation to the mix, having your toes curling and hands reaching out in a desperate manner to cling something, one of his hands reaching out, firmly lacing his fingers in between yours and squeezing enough to hurt but it didn’t matter, you squeezed back just as hard.

“m’ really— oh, oh.. think i’m really close.” broken moans gasped out, your free hand flying into his hair and tugging, earning a gorgeous grunt sound from his lips which only vibrated against you.

leon knew you wouldn’t last leon, despite your hesitations and lesser experience it didn’t take a genius to know how sensitive you are, how deprived your body really was before him, poor thing. leon was just being nice, doing you a favour, so kind of him.

he didn’t let up, neither did the grip he had on your hand or your thigh, it was painful, surely to leave bruises but your mind was far more preoccupied by the bubbling feeling sizzling in your lower stomach.

you sobbed, fat tears rolling down your warm cheeks as you pushed yourself further against his face, body moving on its own to greedily chase the oncoming euphoria.

he would’ve laughed at your eagerness if he didn’t have a face full of your pussy right now.

“le— leon! o-h my god, leon, leon!” you chanted out like a prayer and in your eyes, right now leon was the only god.

burning hot heat spread all throughout your body and you felt like you were cumming endlessly, eyes screwed shut and mouth draped open, chest almost burning from how long you had held your breath upon chasing your high.

“fuck, oh my god!” you cried out, whole body shivering as you fluttered your eyes open, heaving to catch your breath, your fingers in his hair relaxed but his grip on your hand never left, you could feeling his thumb rubbing against the back of your hand and it helped bring you back to reality.

you were dazed, brain almost lagging behind as you jutted out your lips, eyebrows furrowed as glanced down at leon between your legs, shifting your weight off of him with his help, settling yourself on his chest.

“you okay sweetheart?” he rasped out, tongue dashing out to lip over his cum soaked lips, chin glistening with it too, feeling a bolt of that same pleasure run through your body against at the sight.

you couldn’t muster out a coherent sentence, deciding a nod would suffice.

“n’aww, you’re so fucking cute, c’mere.” he pushed you against him until you were laying on his chest, brushing the back of his hand against his chin to help clean the mess you made.

you melted into a puddle as soon as his arms wrapped snuggly around your waist, your own coming around to hug onto him, head nuzzling comfortably into his chest as though he was your very own pillow.

“i love you..” you muffled out quietly against his chest,

you would’ve heard him say it back, more than once, would’ve felt the array of kisses on your head and fingers tracing along your back but you had succumb to the sweet call of rest far quicker than either of you expected, he didn’t mind though, he’d say it a million more times.

#leon smut #leon x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 9 months

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The Agency's Older Brother: or, Ranpo's Character Development

I want to talk about Ranpo and the development he goes through in the series, because for as much as Ranpo is an important member of the Agency, his story is focused on in small chunks that may not always, at first read, seem to be overly significant. In fact, Ranpo’s arc is very consistent and I’m fascinated to know where it’s building to, because he’s done a lot of growing in the series. A lot of the themes of his story are to do with responsibility and faith in others.

The Ranpo we meet at the beginning of the story is not the Ranpo we see now. The biggest change is that he’s a lot more personally involved with the struggles of the Agency members, taking it on himself to be proactive and protective, while previously he had to be pushed and bribed into helping much of the time. When did this change?

Well...

[ID: Two screenshots from a scene in Poe's introductory episode of the Bungou Stray Dogs anime. In the first screenshot, Yosano lies on the carpeted ground, an axe embedded in her chest, blood pooling around her. Ranpo is crouched beside her, supporting her shoulders with one hand and clasping her hand with the other. The second screenshot is a close up of Ranpo's distressed face. End ID.]

The thing is, it's almost easy to overlook the effect this scene had on Ranpo, because Poe’s introductory chapter/episode is such a brief one. Moreover, afterwards, Poe becomes an ally and is a bit of a silly character, so it’s easy to forget sometimes that he was a legitimate threat here - and Yosano nearly died for it. This scene was incredibly significant to Ranpo for a few notable reasons.

It’s the first time someone in the Agency was in serious trouble/died without a backup plan.

It is, unfortunately, kind of on him. (Let me be real clear here: I am not blaming Ranpo. But he probably was blaming himself and that's something to keep in mind.)

To recap: Poe pulls Ranpo into his novel out of revenge, also trapping Yosano, who went with him. Ranpo realizes that they are in a world with no abilities, and importantly, he doesn't have the glasses Fukuzawa gave him.

We know those glasses mean a lot to him. When Ranpo was at his lowest, when he was convinced the world hated him, Fukuzawa gave him those glasses and told him he had a special ability. That he had a gift that no one else did that allowed him to see the truth that no one else could. Untold Origins makes it very clear that if Fukuzawa hadn't reached out to Ranpo when he did, Ranpo may have forever been outcasted. He was a kid kept in a bubble then suddenly and rudely shoved into a world he was unprepared to cope with, where he continued to get rejected and thrown out over and over - and all this on top of the grief he felt from his parents' passing. Ranpo was bitter and terrified of people, and thought everyone was pretending to be oblivious just to hurt him. Fukuzawa saved him the only way he could, in the only way Ranpo would hear him. It's not an exaggeration to say Fukuzawa saved Ranpo's life. And, while cute, it's also telling how quickly those glasses became an intrinsic part of his identity. Only maybe twenty minutes after he first received them, he was already making little doodles of himself wearing them.

Suddenly, the glasses are gone, and Ranpo goes into a funk because he "can't activate his ability without them". Obviously, we know that isn't true, and so does Yosano. Ranpo probably, deep down, knows this too, but to admit that would be to admit the president lied to him, and to uproot the very thing that gave him the means to perceive the world in a brighter light. The reason Fukuzawa had to lie in the first place was because the truth would be to tell Ranpo that his parents lied to him, something he angrily denies could ever be the case. And now, Fukuzawa is very plainly stated to be Ranpo's adoptive father. Ranpo's parents do not lie to him. He does not want to see it - and so he doesn't. This is a recurring thing with Ranpo. For as much as he sees the truth clearly, he also chooses not to see it at times when it would be uncomfortable/go against the intuition of someone he deeply trusts and respects.

And I think it's very easy to just leave it there, and say, "Oh, Ranpo realized at the end of this chapter/episode that he didn't need the glasses, that he doesn't have an ability, and that's a key turning point" but I don't feel that's the full picture or even the focus here, especially since Ranpo still hasn't reached the point where he can properly admit it aloud, even to Yosano.

The thing is, those glasses aren't just of use to Ranpo - they have sentimental value. A heck of a lot of it, for a character who is not very sentimental. The real turning point here is that Ranpo put on Yosano's glasses in order to save her.

[ID: A screenshot of a panel from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. Ranpo puts on a pair of glasses. His hair is blown out of his face and he wears an intense expression. End ID.]

Shortly before this, we are informed by Yosano that not only was the Agency specifically formed for Ranpo to make use of his talents, but also that it was Ranpo who invited her to join - which we later learn was a pivotal moment for her to start over after she was completely broken by her experiences in the war. And now, he is watching her bleed out because she had to take over. Because he couldn't solve it. And that, to Ranpo, is unacceptable.

But again, there's more to it. Ranpo is fundamentally a self-centered character - this is not a judgement; I actually love that about him. He's the center of the Agency, the (ostensibly) good guys of the series; a narcissistic guy with little in the way of sensitivity who wants to use his skills to help others. Not for some higher ideal, or because it's "right" necessarily, but because he's good at it, and because he's supposed to protect all the "babies" who can't solve things for themselves. I love it because it highlights a major theme of BSD, which is good as something you do rather than something you are, and also because it explains something about Ranpo himself.

See, if everyone in the world is a "baby" who needs Ranpo's assistance, then the people in the Agency are a little different. They're people hand-picked by Fukuzawa to support him, both through praise and through backup. Remember that Ranpo trusts Fukuzawa's judgement more than anything - this means that he expects the Agency members can handle themselves. So, in chapter 10, when Ranpo doesn't really care that Atsushi has been taken, citing that it's a "personal problem" and he should handle it, I really think this was some odd form of "Atsushi will be fine" and "why should I worry or do anything when I know he'll be fine". And in the past, this has been true - the Agency members always pull through. None of them, up until that point, have been in a situation that they couldn't eventually fix. Ranpo has a bubble of safety in the Agency, that basically amounts to a "villain of the week" type beat from his perspective, where troubles gets fixed up pretty quickly. All in a day's work.

But then Yosano dies in Poe's book, someone he actually had some level of responsibility for when he invited her to join his safe little circle in a world that had no place for people like them. And it's a direct result of Ranpo's refusal/inability to act.

In order to fix this, Ranpo uses Yosano's glasses. The lens he's seeing through has changed. The people in the Agency were initially "his" in that they were meant to support Ranpo, the special one "chosen" by Fukuzawa's glasses, the reason for the Agency's existence in the first place. But now the people in the Agency are "his" in that they are his to protect. He's their big brother they all look up to in a way, and as the big brother, he's got to take responsibility for their safety.

Why did this not stand out in the moment? Well, we learn something about Ranpo from Untold Origins: he's very good at pretending he's doing okay and things aren't bothering him as much as they are. He's able to hold it together up until it all comes spilling out of him during the play. Also, I do think Ranpo cares about people a good deal more than he'd have you believe. A common fanon thing about Ranpo (from what I've seen) is that he tends to forget people, which, I can see how one would come to that conclusion, but I actually think it's completely wrong. I don't think Ranpo's forgotten a single person he's accused. I don't think he's forgotten a single person he's helped.

He lied about not remembering Poe, in fact, he remembered him pretty fondly as a real challenge. He remembers the information on a person from the Special Division he was asked to look into and gave the info to Mushitarou to allow him an in. He recognizes an officer he'd helped, and it's implied he recognizes every single officer who had been present while he was working on cases in the past. Does this mean he cares about all of them? ...eh. Probably not. But it does mean that Ranpo keeps a lot of his cards close to his chest. He's disarming with his intentional childishness. And so it can be difficult for the characters and readers both to notice that events like Yosano's almost-death... actually bothered him a lot more than he let on.

Because it was his fault. Because she was his responsibility. Because he's supposed to be invincible.

And unfortunately, the story from here on out does not get any kinder to Ranpo as his safe bubble that is the Agency is repeatedly targeted in ways that are increasingly hard to repair.

Fukuzawa falls ill and nearly dies in Cannibalism arc.

A girl gets blown up and Kunikida ends up in jail because Fyodor managed to manipulate Ranpo's intel.

Mushitarou is believed to have been shot and killed trying to warn Ranpo about the Decay of Angels plan.

Taneda bleeds out from a stab wound and falls into a coma. Ranpo can do nothing but listen and cannot get him help.

The amount of times Ranpo has seen people nearly die in front of him... bro it's almost as bad as Kunikida.

Much like Kunikida having extreme faith in his lofty ideals which make him fall just that much harder when he fails to uphold them, Ranpo has practically zero self-doubt and complete and utter confidence in his abilities... so when problems arise, Ranpo is very harsh on himself. He takes the blame because he's supposed to be better than that. Because he is the one with the powerful "ability" that should never fail.

In this sense, Ranpo's position in the Agency reminds me a lot of a certain person in the Port Mafia, someone who also has a powerful skill he puts towards protecting his own, someone who also received life changing words from the boss which earned him his loyalty, and someone who would do anything to defend the only place in the world he feels secure.

I think there's definitely a reason Cannibalism arc had Ranpo and Chuuya face off, I'm just saying. Both of them ostracized and thrown out as young teens by people who should've been looking out for them. Both the instigators of that arc, proactive and desperate to protect the person they are most loyal to who changed their perspectives. They've even got the same power stance, look. :P

[ID: Two panels from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. The first is a panel of Ranpo with the silhouette of Fyodor behind him. He is standing with his hands in his pockets, facing front with his head tilted back and to the left a little, a fierce expression on his face and his cloak billowing outwards. The second is a panel of Chuuya standing in a similar manner, arms crossed, facing front with a fierce expression as his coat billows out around him. End ID.]

Of course, there's more interesting comparisons and contrasts to be drawn between them, but I'm focusing on Ranpo in this analysis, so I think I've made my point. Chuuya is the Port Mafia's best martial artist. Ranpo is the Agency's strongest man. And that places a burden of responsibility on them that they both believe they must uphold. They're both ready and willing to do whatever it takes.

The thing is though, is that Ranpo doesn't actually have an ability. When up against someone like Chuuya, he is at a distinct disadvantage, and he knows it. "Regular people can't defeat ability users". But he's still going to come up with a way to do it anyways, and why?

[ID: A screencap from the Bungou Stray Dogs anime. The members of the Agency all stand around Ranpo, who is seated at his desk with a smile, one hand holding his cap, the other held up in a casual gesture. The image is filtered in a soft light. End ID.]

Because his friends think he's invincible.

If Ranpo wants to maintain his safe place in a world of fear, then he has to step up to defend it, and he has to get creative about it. And that's exactly what he does. Ranpo becomes steadily more active throughout the story, which is a huge change from the start, where he had to be practically bribed to help at all. I see a lot of people point out his channeling of Fyodor's tactics to secure Kunikida's release, which is definitely a dark turn for his character, but it's not the only change.

Ranpo is now choosing to place his faith in others, the first obvious instance of this being his use of Poe's novels - which was how he defeated Chuuya. Ranpo knows that he is not going to succeed against people who drastically overpower him all alone, even if he does still take things on as personal burdens. He's also far more obvious about his protectiveness, going on the rescue himself to save the Agency members, driving a car (whereas before he needed someone to take transit with him - another indication of his increased proactivity since he's now literally driving instead of being driven), and bodily shoving Atsushi out of harm's way.

It all culminates in one of my favourite Ranpo scenes where he speaks at the conference to the police, who've worked with him before, where he asks if they will think for themselves - and tells everyone gathered there that anyone can be a detective if they think for themselves and look with their own eyes (!!!). He manages to get half the police force on his side, just through his words and his logic alone! Minoura assumes he somehow knew it would all work out, because, well, it's Ranpo. Ranpo knows everything.

But...

[ID: An image from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. Ranpo sits in the passenger seat of a car with an honest, helpless smile. End ID.]

He reveals he didn't know if his ploy would work at all. He had to trust that it would with no solid proof. He had to trust these people would use their heads and look beyond the obvious. He respects these people enough that he thinks at least some of them will make the right call.

Fourteen year old Ranpo, bitter and estranged from other people, would never. For him to have come such a long way is testament to the security that the Agency provided him with. In a way, Fukuzawa forming the Agency allowed Ranpo to "complete" his childhood in relative safety, so that when the world became hostile once again and his family destabilized, Ranpo had matured enough to meet it and defend himself and those he has a responsibility towards head on. The Agency is his family, and Ranpo cares for them enough that he puts his faith, not just in them, but in the people they put their faith in too.

[ID: A panel from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. Ranpo is kneeling in front of Fukuchi, who is sitting backwards on his chair to face him. End ID.]

...aaaaand then Fukuchi went and ruined it. Thanks, Fukuchi.

Ranpo again chooses to put his trust in someone without proof because Fukuzawa trusts him, only for that to have gotten thrown back into his face in the worst way possible. And it's in this regard, the trust aspect, that I think we'll see Ranpo develop as the story goes on.

Will he continue to show this tentative faith in people? Or will he begin to hyper-analyze, unwilling to trust again without proof?

If this arc gets resolved decently well, I think Ranpo will have no issue brushing this off as a one-time thing. However, if what I fear might happen does and Fukuzawa doesn't make it out of this arc... Ranpo will be destabilized.

I don't know that Ranpo would go "bad" per se. He likes the other Agency members. He cares about them - that's genuine. But if Fukuzawa dies, then Ranpo may begin to take darker actions in order to keep them safe, almost overprotective and harshly logical, with little room for blind trust or risks in the name of justice or honour. It may put him at odds with Kunikida, in that Ranpo may start to develop a strong "do what's necessary" mentality, even if that may be immoral. He may regress a little into his old trust issues.

However, I really don't think Ranpo will go too far down the path of darkness, even if the worst should happen. He's a lot tougher than he seems, and he has a good support system in the Agency. I guess it remains to be seen where Ranpo's story takes him next.

Until then...

[ID: A screencap from the Bungo Stray Dogs anime. Ranpo sits in his chair in a cuter art style, having taken a bite from the pastry he has in his left hand. End ID.]

I love one good boy. :)

#ranpo's such a good character man. there's so much i couldn't cover here but he's so so good.#but anyways. ahahahahaaaa i finished it! yesssss #sorry for the. VERY. long delay on this #i'm back baby #bsd #bsd ranpo #bsd meta #call me ace detective the way i am ace. and also a detective.#storyrambles #hope i got everything. whee.

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shadowdaddies · 5 months

Note

omg can i please request a part two to the cassian x azriel x reader fic where az gets mated to both of them snd they get into a threeway relationship? maybe some angst where the bond snaps for him first and he thinks they seem happy and he doesn’t wanna ruin it for them, but little does he know that the bond had snapped for them and they’re just waiting for him. please, the way i’d kill for this😀😀😀😀

it's like you read my mind anon, lol I can't help but add feelings to all smut I write. This turned out very angsty but there's a happy ending dw

A/N: this is a follow-up to part 1, but can be read separately

Between a Rock and a Hard Place (II)

Cassian x Azriel x Reader

A cool rush of air brushing your cheek jerked you from your sleep. The bed felt colder now than it had last night, and you turned away from a sleeping Cassian to find that Azriel’s side of the bed was empty.

Your heart cleaved in two at the feel of the cold sheets beneath your hand, a single tear running down your cheek as Cassian grumbled, releasing a yawn as he woke.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” your mate murmured in a gravelly voice. Leaning over to kiss your cheek, Cassian noticed the tear. He sat up abruptly, searching your face and scanning the room for visible threats. “Love, what’s wrong?”

You sniffled, unsure how to articulate what you were feeling when you didn’t understand it yourself. “Azriel left. I don’t know why that bothers me... Do you think he regrets last night?”

Cassian sighed, running a hand through his hair as he sat up against the pillows. He studied you for a moment as he seemed to contemplate an answer, before his broad arms wrapped around you, pulling you to curl into his side as he pressed a kiss to your hair. “You know how Az is. He’s not the type to stick around and talk.” Cass took a long pause before speaking again. “Did you have something you wanted to talk to him about?”

You chewed your bottom lip as you looked to the empty space in the bed next to you, an echo of the one you felt in your chest. How could you explain this to your mate? You didn’t want Cassian to think that he isn’t enough for you. He was more than enough - a kind, loving, mate.

“You know,” Cassian started, interrupting your thoughts. “Az and I have always had a special connection. We’re really different from each other, but we’ve always had an understanding. And last night, you with here as well...” You turned around, eyes wide as you looked at your mate, urging him to continue. Cassian chuckled, leaning in to kiss you before he spoke again. “It felt different. I just felt... whole.”

You tried to contain your excitement at Cassian’s admission, but it was impossible to hide the bright smile that graced your features in response. “I feel the same, Cass. I really missed him when I woke up and saw that he was gone.” You reached out to Cassian’s chest, putting a hand over his heart as if the touch would heal the hurt in your own chest.

A shock ran through you - one that you had felt once before in your life. Your world turned on its axis as you locked eyes with Cassian, jaw going slack. He nodded at you, softly encouraging you to verbalize what the both of you had just realized. “Mates,” you whispered.

The both of you got dressed quickly, running downstairs in hopes of finding Azriel eating breakfast. You called out to him, checking his room, the kitchen, the library - anywhere Az might be. You tugged on the bond, hoping to feel Azriel, but the bond felt weaker now. Tears threatened to fall as you shoved the door out of the library open.

“Woah,” Rhys chuckled, jumping just out of the way of the door. He froze when he noticed your emotional state. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

Hugging your chest, you choked back a sob, looking up at Rhys just as Cassian entered the room and saved you from having to answer.

“Rhys, have you seen Az?” Rhys turned around to see Cassian looking as distressed as you. The High Lord quickly took stock of the situation, wisely making no comment other than to respond to Cassian. “He came to me early this morning, wanting to monitor activity his spies had picked up on between the Summer and Spring Courts. He left around dawn.”

Your gaze shot to Cassian’s. That explained why the bond with Azriel felt weakened - he had traveled so far, to get away from you. “We have to find him, Cass,” you choked out, fully crying at this point. Whether Cassian mindspoke to Rhys, or the High Lord figured it out on his own, realization dawned on his face.

Cassian crossed the room, picking you up in his arms before you could crumble to the ground. He carried you to the couch, holding you close as you reveled in his comforting warmth. Rhys strolled over, picking a piece of lint from his tunic before shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I can bring him back,” the High Lord offered, looking at you with violet eyes full of pity. Somehow, that offer made the pain even worse. You didn’t want to force anyone to be with you.

Wiping the tears from your cheeks, you shook your head vehemently. “No, we should give him some time. I don’t know if he’s even aware of the bond.” Cassian held you close, pressing a lingering kiss to your head as Rhys nodded, leaving the room to grant you privacy.

You shifted in Cassian’s lap, holding his face in your hands as you found comfort in his eyes. “What do we do, Cass?”

He gave you a sort of sad, soft smile. “I think we give him time. Az has always needed his space. Let him process, and if he’s not back-“

You were interrupted by the sound of a door opening downstairs, footsteps running through the house. Your bond leapt in your chest, warmth rushing through you. Azriel bounded to the top of the staircase, wild-eyed as he took in the sight of you.

“I felt you, hurting. Even from the Spring Court, I could feel you, missing me,” Azriel whispered, warily watching your and Cassian’s expressions.

Unsure that all your emotions would come pouring out if you dared to speak, you simply nodded. Cassian brought an encouraging hand to rub your arm, speaking the words you couldn’t say. “The bond snapped for us after you left this morning. I don’t know how you feel about this, but we love you, Az. We want to work through this.”

Azriel’s arms were across his chest as though to protect himself as he nodded, processing. Taking a deep breath, you found the words you had been dying to say. “Missing you doesn’t quite describe what I felt. Azriel, when I woke up this morning to find you gone, it was like someone cut a hole in my heart. You are a piece of my soul I didn’t know was missing until now.”

Azriel’s own eyes lined with tears at your words, shaking his head as though he refused to accept what you were saying. “I can’t... I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve two mates, and not both of you-“

You rushed to Azriel as he broke down in tears, stopping to gently hold his hands. Your heart swelled as you looked in those hazel eyes, your mate’s eyes. “Az, we love you so much, I couldn’t have dreamed of having a mate-“

You were cut off by Azriel pulling you into a hug, that hole in your chest filled as Cassian came behind you, wrapping the both of you in a hug. “Please never leave us again,” you murmured to Azriel against his chest.

“I couldn’t if I tried, love,” he promised back, pressing a gentle kiss to your head as the three of you embraced, fulfilled just by being in each others’ company.

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writeforfandoms · 7 months

Text

Fear Not This Night

Find my CoD masterlist

Being part of the 141 pack meant you watched out for your boys, always. As their medic, it meant you sometimes flew into danger for them. When someone uses that knowledge against you to separate you from your pack, you pay the price.

Warnings: Blood, treating wounds, medical inaccuracies, shifter biology, shifter dynamics, psychological torture, physical torture, being blinded (hood over head), brief self-harm (pulling feathers). This one is a bit dark so if you would like more in depth warnings, come ask me.

Word count: 7.6k

Harpy eagle f!reader x 141 poly

You soared over the trees, sharp eyes watching for your team. You’d gotten the call that they needed you a few hours prior, so you knew they’d likely moved some from their last coordinates. But you doubted they’d gone far. You weren’t even tired yet, broad wings carrying you and your pack.

Finally, you spotted Soap, in a convenient space between trees. Good man, making your life easier. You didn’t cry out in recognition, because that was dangerous. But you did dive, tucking your wings close and waiting until the last possible moment to pull up, flapping down to land on your pack. It was specially designed to be sturdy enough for you to land on, fortunately.

“There ye are,” Soap murmured, grinning at you and reaching out one hand to stroke the top of your head. You blinked at him, chirping. “C’mon. Someone got a lucky hit on Ghost.”

You hopped off your medic pack, hopping a few steps away before you shifted. “How bad?” you asked, opening up your pack and throwing on clothes. For the chill more than for modesty.

You had no modesty around your boys anymore.

“Price wants ye to check, because Ghost is bein’ an ass.”

“I heard that,” came the grumpy growl from Ghost.

You rolled your eyes and picked up your pack, which looked more like a picnic basket when you carried it this way. “If you’re alive enough to growl, you’re alive enough to behave,” you pointed out. He still had his mask on, but he wasn’t arguing lying down, either. Hmm. Must be feeling worse than you thought.

You settled on your knees next to Ghost, giving him a quick once-over. Bandages had been packed down against his thigh, though you ignored them for the moment. Nothing else looked out of place.

“Anywhere hurting besides the thigh?”

“Took a round to the vest,” he admitted, a little reluctant and a lot grumpy. Probably mostly grumpy that he got hit.

“Just bruised,” Gaz said as he crouched a little to the side of you and behind you, out of the way but ready to assist. “Didn’t even crack a rib.”

“Lucky bastard,” you agreed, shifting your attention down to his thigh. “And this?”

“A graze,” Gaz said. “But it bled a lot, more than normal.”

You hummed acknowledgement, leaning closer. Ghost shifted, and you cooed softly, almost reflexively. He huffed but settled.

The wound wasn’t bad under the bandages, but it was in a tricky spot, just above his knee. You couldn’t see any real reason why it would have bled more than normal except use, which was kind of inevitable. But even so, just to be on the safe side, you smeared it with ointment and rewrapped it.

“How far do you have to go?” You packed up the rest of your supplies after forcing Ghost to drink more water.

“Little ways yet.” Price shrugged, planting his hands on his hips.

“I’m fine to keep going,” Ghost said, because of course he did.

“You finish your water,” you said, poking his hip. “Then we’ll see.”

He huffed, eyes narrowing at you. But he subsided. Mostly because you both knew Price would side with you.

“If you left now?” You raised one eyebrow at Price.

“We’d make it by dawn.”

You puffed out a breath. That was not too bad. Ghost was tough, you knew he could last that long, especially since he’d already been forced to rest (and probably to eat something, knowing the rest of the pack). “I’ll scout ahead,” you said, pushing up to your feet. “Circle back and follow behind, make sure you’re fine.”

“I’ve got your pack,” Gaz offered before you could say anything more. You rolled your eyes at him but didn’t protest. You knew better.

You also knew better than to shift again without eating something, so you ripped open a protein bar and ate it as fast as possible under Price’s approving eye. Tossing your clothes back at Gaz and grinning at his playful huff, you shifted back and took off again.

The route forward to their exfil point was clear and quiet, even to your keen gaze. Turning to circle back, you made sure to check back in on your guys as you flew above them.

No enemies behind, either. They’d done a good job of either killing everyone who’d tried to follow, or losing them. You expected nothing less from them.

Pleased, you made a few big circles just to be sure. Still nothing. No sign of enemies. You took your time following your pack to the exfil point.

True to Price’s prediction, just as the sun broke the horizon the pack made it to exfil. You dove down to join them, landing next to Ghost. Gaz tossed your clothes to you as soon as you shifted, and Ghost shoved water at you.

“You all are mother hens, y’know that?” you grumbled without any heat, grinning, even as you double-checked Gaz’s straps.

“Says the biggest hen of us,” Soap pointed out with a wicked grin.

“Now now, just because my tits are the best–” you started playfully.

“Enough,” Price interrupted, sitting on Gaz’s other side, between him and the opening. Smart man.

You and Soap subsided, though you did both roll your eyes. “Everybody good?” You looked around at them, meeting each gaze squarely for a moment, to make sure none of them were lying. They all tolerated it, well used to you by now. Satisfied that none of your guys were about to keel over, you settled back for the trip back.

Flying in a heli had never been your favorite thing to do. You much preferred to fly on your own. But you had to admit that the heli was faster - you’d tried once to keep up, and couldn’t. Which wasn’t actually surprising, just disappointing.

This flight was not bad. Not too long. Which was good, because you were getting antsy. Ghost had caught a nap on the heli, but you still wanted to make sure he was fine in better conditions than you’d had before.

As soon as the heli landed, you were out, watching Ghost carefully. He wouldn’t accept help, not in front of others, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t check in.

“‘M fine,” he grumbled at you very quietly as you fell into step next to him.

“I’m sure you are,” you agreed. “And I’ll be more sure after I get to look you over.”

Soap leaned closer, waggling his eyebrows. But he didn’t say anything, because he couldn’t. Not here. Not where people could overhear and get the wrong idea.

Simon was fine, as it turned out when you finally got him to medical. Heightened metabolisms were good for some things, after all, and that included faster healing.

But you still bullied all your guys into the nest to take a nap.

“Stop fussing,” Price grumbled, lifting his head to pin you with a look. “And get in here.”

“It is literally my job to fuss,” you grumbled right back, although you did stop messing with the pillows and observed the nest. There was a good spot next to Simon. You carefully stepped over Gaz and Price before you settled down with a soft chirp, nestled between Simon and Price. There. That was better.

Price’s soft huff made you grin to yourself. At least until Simon tucked you under his arm and started scratching your scalp. Then you relaxed into him.

Okay. Maybe you could take a nap too.

One good thing about having pack-only spaces was that you could be with your guys without fear.

Simon had been ordered to stay and rest and finish healing while the other three went on what was supposed to be a quick mission. A day or two all told, is how Price had phrased it. You didn't know the details, didn't need to know the details, but you did know that Simon hated this.

"Relax," you murmured to him soothingly, scratching your fingers against his scalp. "They'll be back soon."

He grumbled wordlessly, one hand curling against your thigh where he was also using it as a pillow.

"Easy, Simon," you murmured, low and soothing. The little bit of grooming helped both of you, you knew. And it was almost all you could do for the moment.

Until you got called to help with exfil.

You hated leaving Simon, knew he'd be all but climbing the walls in his anxiety, but… needs must. He understood.

This time you went without your med pack - supplies would be available after exfil.

You weren't even sure Price had called for you. But the order came from higher up, so off you went to go help.

From high in the air, the battlefield looked bad. You could see bodies still laying where they'd fallen, a visual indication of the path of retreat. It took a little time to find your guys, the three of them huddled together behind a half-burned building. There were no immediate threats, but you could see where enemies had set up to hinder them.

It was not an easy situation, nor an easy fix. You flapped your wings a few times, changing your trajectory.

You needed to give them a distraction, a chance to get out. Most people didn't look up - you could use that, get a good sneak attack or two in. Cause a little chaos in the line.

It would do for now, until you came up with a better plan.

You flew a little higher, using the angle of the sun to help disguise your descent. And then you dove, aiming for one soldier a little apart from the others. He never saw you coming.

But he screamed as your talons ripped through the vulnerable skin of his scalp and neck.

You flapped hard, leaving him to bleed out even as shouts started up around you. You managed to vanish into the sun, flying up high again. You'd be harder to hit that way.

Of course, now they were on alert. Damn. That hadn't quite been enough of a distraction for your guys to get away.

You needed something bigger.

Scanning the ground, you looked for something out of the way to pick up and drop on the enemy line.

It was a good plan, and it even worked.

Until you were flying away. Someone must have been watching, because there was a sharp pain in your wing, enough to make you screech. Your wing faltered and you fell, just able to slow yourself enough that you didn't injure yourself further.

You hit the ground in a flurry of blood and feathers and screeching. Your wing hurt, leaving you unable to fly.

Behind enemy lines.

The first man to lunge at you got your beak to his throat, blood hot as it splashed across your face and chest. Maybe you'd have time to get to safety, maybe you could shift and–

Something heavy fell over your head, completely blocking your vision. You screeched, loud and angry, but more heavy things landed on top of you. Something held your wings firmly down against your sides, the pain sharp enough to make you try to jerk away. But you couldn't, too many hands grabbing you and securing you.

Blind and trapped, you could only feel as you were picked up and moved.

But you weren't dead yet, which was terrifying.

People handed you off between them, and you tried to flap your wings or flex your claws or anything. But movement of any kind resulted in you being squeezed to the point of pain.

With no way to see where you were or how many of them there were, you gave up. Conserved your strength, so you'd have a better chance of escape once you could see again.

An engine rumbled to life, and you got squished in against a body.

"Try anything funny and I will break your wing," a man hissed to you in heavily-accented English. You didn't doubt that he, or someone, would.

So you behaved, because you wouldn't be able to escape if you had a broken wing. You listened to the occasional chatter in Arabic. You tried very hard not to panic.

Sooner than you expected, the car stopped and you were once again handed off. The thing never came off your head, never let you see anything.

But you could hear more people, orders shouted in Arabic, more movement.

Oh this was bad.

Someone carried you somewhere cooler. More movement around you, and for a brief moment you could see as the heavy thing over your head was yanked off - you could see two men in front of you, one of them grinning to show off two empty spaces where teeth should be.

Then darkness again as a hood was secured over your head. You'd never been put in a falconry hood, but you knew immediately that's what it was, just from the feel of the leather and ties around your head. You screeched, trying to flap your wings.

"Enough of that," a sharp voice scolded. You nearly startled to realize it sounded like a woman. There was another flurry of Arabic, orders it sounded like, and then hands grasped your right wing, the one with the bullet hole. Big hands held you in place, wing extended, other wing pinned to your side.

You had no idea what they were doing until you heard the snip, snip, snip. You screeched, enraged and despairing and agonized. But they didn't stop, and there was nothing you could do.

"There." The woman sounded far too smug, too pleased. "Now you can be my bird." She laughed, low and throaty and sadistic.

You shivered, tucking your wings in as tight as you could, shifting restlessly from foot to foot. Bells jingled as you moved and you froze in horror.

Hood and jesses. They were treating you like a falconry bird.

If you could, you might have thrown up. As it was, you made a tiny distressed noise.

A door shut somewhere nearby, leaving you with the terrible feeling that you were alone.

You tried to pace off the room, but the fucking bells kept breaking your concentration. You could stretch your wings, at least, though the right one hurt. And the way the air moved around your wing was… wrong.

That was all the confirmation you needed, even as you pulled your wings in tight again and huddled in place, shivering. They’d clipped your primaries.

Even if the hood was gone, you wouldn’t be able to fly.

You had no idea how long you stood there, alone in the forced darkness. Time was meaningless as you mentally went in circles. Simon knew you’d gone. There was a chance the other three had seen you or heard the commotion. People knew you were gone.

Someone would come for you.

Or you’d be killed first.

But you didn’t want to die, your pack needed you, you couldn’t leave them, they’d never forgive themselves if you died here–

The door opened hard enough that it slammed into the wall, and you jumped, wings flaring in agitation.

“There’s my pretty bird,” the woman from before cooed, over-sweet and mocking. “Hungry yet?” Her steps were deliberately loud as she approached you. You stiffened, holding yourself tense, but didn’t move. “Now, are you going to cooperate? Be a good bird?”

You didn’t reply, but you figured that lack of fighting would be a response. Because you had no idea where you were, and you held almost no power here. You knew that if you got too uppity, they’d make your life worse. Probably not kill you - they’d had plenty of opportunity to do that, and hadn’t yet.

But you could think of plenty of things they could do to make things worse for you.

The hood was pulled off your head, and you blinked rapidly as you adjusted to the light. The room had no windows and only one door. The artificial light washed everything yellow.

And, most importantly, left you no way to know how long it had been, how long you’d been gone.

The woman in front of you wore khaki and brown, simple clothes that were more functional than fashionable. Brown eyes held yours, a smirk slowly stretching her lips when you refused to look away first. But she didn’t seem to care about a dominance game. She just stepped further into the room, setting down two bowls for you.

Like you were a pet.

Your stomach turned and you stayed very still, head tipped, watching her closely.

“Well? Go on. Eat while you can.” Her grin had stretched into a cruel thing, showing too many teeth.

You shuffle-hopped forward, the bells on the jesses setting off every nerve you had. You hated this. Hated her. But this wouldn’t be forever, you knew it wouldn’t. You needed to eat, needed the fuel to heal and save up for your escape (as soon as you had a decent plan).

So, much as it grated on you, you ate from the bowl, keeping your gaze on her as much as you could. It felt demeaning, dehumanizing.

You felt like some exotic pet. The feeling made your blood boil, made you seethe. But you were careful to do so very quietly, only to yourself.

“Good bird,” she cooed mockingly. “We shall see how long it takes to train you.”

Before you could do more than flare your wings in protest, the hood was shoved back on your head, plunging you into darkness once more. You flapped your wings twice, momentarily off-balance.

The door shut. A lock clicked.

And you were alone again, in darkness and silence.

It was impossible to track how much time had passed. You could hear only occasional muffled sounds beyond your room, had no way to mark the passage of time.

The only breaks from the darkness were for food, always far enough apart that you were hungry, always the woman and one underling. Always demeaning. Always difficult.

You suffered through five meals. Five meals. Each one worse than the last, with more taunting, more mocking. It was harder every time to not just leap at her and rip into her.

But you remained patient, somehow.

The muffled sound of gunfire drew your attention, and you moved back and forth restlessly. It was hard not to get your hopes up, after however many days of being stuck here.

When the gunfire got louder and you heard the muffled shouts outside your door, satisfaction surged. That was probably your pack, coming for you.

And if it wasn’t, well… There was more than one way out of here.

You waited for a lull in the fighting, in the shouting and gunshots and chaos. And then you screeched, as loud as you could.

There. If that was your pack, they’d know it was you. If it was anybody else… You’d deal with that when you could.

The fighting and gunfire got closer, and you backed up slowly, carefully. The jingling of the fucking jesses still grated, but it was easier to ignore with the fighting outside.

There were two shots outside, two thuds. Your heart beat faster and you half-spread your wings, talons clicking against the floor.

“Found her,” came Soap’s voice from the door, and the breath whooshed out of you all at once. “Fuck,” he ground out, as angry as you’d ever heard him. “Okay, ‘s just me, sweets. Ah’m gonna take this off, yeah?” Hands fumbled with the hood for a moment before it was gone, leaving you blinking and near-blinded by the sudden brightness.

And there was Soap, clothes a little bloodied, expression torn between rage and sympathy. He spared a moment to smooth a hand over your head.

“Can ye shift?”

You clicked your beak and awkwardly held out one leg, jingling the jess still attached.

His expression immediately darkened. “Ah’ll burn the whole place,” he swore, rapidly removing one jess, then the other.

Relieved, you immediately shifted back. Your arm ached where the bullet hole had mostly healed, and you knew you probably looked a wreck. You felt a wreck, a little shaky and unsteady. But you were also determined to get the hell out.

“Give me a gun,” you rasped, throat dry.

“Ah donnae have supplies for ye,” Soap murmured apologetically, even as he unclipped his handgun and handed it to you. “Keep close.”

You nodded silently, pushing down everything else. You’d deal with everything else later.

Warm wetness on your feet made you look down as you followed Soap out of the room that had been your prison for however long. Two guards, both dead. Clean shots. Blood had pooled in the hallway. Your upper lip curled and you stepped carefully through the hall, not wanting to slip on anything.

Soap motioned you to wait as you came up to a corner, and he peeked around first. A gunshot had him jerking back.

“Counted eight,” he murmured to you. “Wait here.”

“But–” Your shoulders raised, and if you’d had feathers they would have been floofing out.

“Ye have no vest, no protection,” Soap pointed out, soft but firm. “Jus’ got ye back, sweets. Donnae ask me this.”

And you deflated again. As much as you wanted to kill every bastard in the building yourself, he had a good point. “Okay,” you agreed quietly, grip tightening briefly on your gun. “I’ll wait.”

Soap pressed a quick, hard kiss to your temple before he was gone, picking off one before he even rounded the corner. You could do nothing but listen to the chaos and wait for the all clear to move up.

A scuff behind you had you whirling, gun up. The woman stood no more than ten paces away, teeth bared, a gun in her hand.

“Well well, is this what pretty birdie looks like when she’s not a birdie?” She laughed, the sound unhinged, divorced from reality. “What a waste.”

“Don’t move.” Your voice didn’t shake. Your hands didn’t shake. But your mind… your mind quailed.

“What’s the matter, birdie? Missing your hood?” Her teeth were bloody, eyes fixed on you as she took a step closer.

You swallowed hard, breath coming faster. If you never saw a hood again it would be too soon.

“We can fix that.” She took another step forward, lifting the gun slowly, as if it was much heavier than it actually was.

You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t blink. You shot her, center mass.

She fell.

“Sweets?” Soap sounded only a little panicky.

“Clear!” You swallowed. Then again. You were a medic, yes, but this was far from the first time you’d killed. You’d hoped this would bring a little peace.

Instead you were simply numb.

“Move up!” Soap called after another minute. You obeyed wordlessly, turning your back on the corpse without another thought.

“How far?” you asked softly, stopping behind him, letting him be your shield again.

“Not much farther.” He glanced back at you, worried. “Ye alright?”

“Fine.” Your answer was short, clipped. Because you couldn’t think about being anything other than fine. “Let’s go.”

Soap hesitated a moment longer, gaze searching your face, before he nodded once, slowly. Then he moved, keeping you behind him. You kept close to him, moving as quietly as possible, ignoring the tackiness of blood drying on your skin.

He had you wait as he cleared one more room, and then the two of you met up with Gaz. Gaz breathed in sharply when he saw you but was quick to tug you to him in a hard hug, the edges of his vest and gear blunt and uncomfortable against your skin. You didn’t care, returning the hug with an edge of desperation.

“Here,” Gaz murmured, pulling spare clothes from one of his pouches. “Couldn’t bring extra gear for you, but this’ll do for now.”

You nodded, pulling the clothes on silently. They didn’t actually help you feel any better, but being with two of your pack did.

“Price and Ghost are almost done,” Gaz told Soap, tucking you between the two so you were protected. “Ready to meet up?”

“Ready.” Soap grinned, brief and vicious. “Ye’ll like this,” he promised you, taking the lead. You followed him, Gaz on your six. The building was quiet now, tension thrumming under your skin. But you kept up, swallowing back your nerves as best you could.

“All set up?” Soap asked as he stepped into a room. You followed, a little more cautious.

“All set,” Price agreed, eyes immediately finding you. A bit of tension leaked from his shoulders and he smiled, just a little. “Ready to get out of here?”

You nodded silently, but didn’t say anything. Which didn’t matter, because Ghost was in front of you in a few long strides, one hand gently cupping your cheek to tip your head.

“Injuries?” he asked softly, gaze sweeping over you.

“Just my arm.” And your feathers, but you couldn’t think about that for longer than a moment or you’d start screaming.

Ghost nodded, pulling you into his side.

“Let’s go,” Price ordered, taking point. The others kept you in the middle between them all the way out.

At a safe distance, the group of you turned. Soap waggled his eyebrows at you, grinning, before he pushed down on a detonator.

The entire building collapsed, shaking apart as explosions ripped through it. It was incredibly cathartic to see. Or, well. It probably was. You were… kind of numb.

“Here.”

You blinked slowly to find Price holding out a water to you. Your hands trembled as you took it, drinking slowly under the watchful gaze of your pack.

“It’s not far to exfil,” Gaz murmured, one hand resting on your shoulder. You leaned into the touch, breath momentarily hitching.

“Okay.” You swallowed hard and took the protein bar Price handed over, eating mechanically. You could barely taste it.

You knew this was bad, but. Not much to be done about it yet.

“You alright to walk the rest of the way?” Price asked, glancing down at your feet.

You blinked. You… couldn’t actually feel any discomfort from your feet, though you knew you should. You were standing barefoot on the ground, and it wasn’t even flat ground. “I’m fine.”

Price eyed you for a moment before he nodded. “Let’s get out of here, then,” he murmured. Contrary to his own words, he leaned in until he could press his forehead to yours, taking a moment to just breathe. Then he pulled back, once again taking point.

You followed, a little slow but moving under your own power. At least you weren’t in pain.

Yet.

The heli was waiting for you when you arrived. You shivered briefly against the wind and hurried in, buckling in with shaking hands. Soap dropped down on one side of you, Gaz on your other side. They both double checked your harness.

The flight back didn’t seem to take any time. You sat upright, tired and numb and cold, but unable to show any of that. You would eventually, you knew. You should probably warn your guys, you knew.

But you couldn’t.

The heli set down with a bump and you jolted. Two pairs of hands steadied you, Gaz and Soap both looking at you with concern.

But nobody said anything as they escorted you to medical.

You answered anything directly asked of you, quiet and stiff. The bullet hole in your arm was deemed mostly healed (it should have been more healed, really, but you hadn’t eaten enough), and otherwise you were dehydrated and bruised, but mostly unharmed.

The problem arose when one of the medics asked you to shift.

“No.” The word was only a whisper but you leaned away, hands curling into fists, muscles pulling taut.

The medic paused, eyeing you carefully. You were known to be more easy-going and cooperative, so this? Was unusual. “If you need privacy–”

“No.” It came out a little stronger this time, even as your gaze darted to the door, heart racing. No. Absolutely not.

The medic slowly leaned back, away from you. But their voice was calm as they called, “Captain?”

Price was in front of you a moment later, taking in your posture in a quick glance. He put one heavy hand on your shoulder, ducking his head to look you in the eyes for a moment. “Easy,” he murmured, frowning a little. “You done here?” He glanced back over his shoulder at the medic.

“She hasn’t shifted yet, so we’re not technically done,” the medic explained.

Price glanced down at you, and you shook your head, jaw clenched so tight your teeth ached. “Another time,” Price grunted, gently tugging you off the exam table.

The medic sighed, exasperated but unwilling to fight. “Fine. Make sure she sleeps,” they ordered, moving out of the way. “And eats.”

Price nodded, letting his hand fall from your shoulder. You tried not to focus on that, tried to focus on following him instead. But it was hard. The touch had been grounding, helpful. Helping to pull you back into yourself.

“You should get cleaned up,” Price murmured, heading back towards your quarters. “It’ll help.”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t manage more than that, couldn’t force more out. The numbness was slowly fading, leaving you aching. And tired. So very tired.

Price paused outside your door, studying you. “Do you want someone here?”

You swallowed and forced yourself to nod. You didn’t want to be alone. But you didn’t want anyone looking at you just yet, either.

Price nodded slowly, brow furrowing a little. “I’ll stay,” he rumbled, pushing your door open and ushering you through first. “Get cleaned up, dress down for the evening.”

You nodded wordlessly, slipping past him and grabbing comfortable clothes. You had a bathroom to yourself, something you were extremely grateful for, and you shut the door between yourself and your alpha. And then immediately opened it a crack, because you felt too trapped otherwise.

Hot water felt heavenly, after everything. Getting to scrub your head felt heavenly. Everything else… Well. You definitely overdid it washing yourself, scratching your skin nearly raw in places. You did make yourself bleed again, accidentally breaking open the wound in your arm.

But you finally felt clean enough for the moment and emerged, drying off and wrapping your head in a towel. That would do.

Price was still sitting on your bed when you emerged, phone in hand, though he turned his gaze to you as soon as the door opened. His gaze lingered on your skin, and you knew he was making note of everything. But he didn’t comment.

“Figured we’d go to the pack room,” he said, carefully phrasing it as an option, rather than an order. “Got Gaz and Soap bringing food.”

You nodded. “Food sounds good,” you admitted, walking over to him. You didn’t ask, just plastered yourself to his front, cheek pressed to his chest, inhaling the comforting scent of your alpha. Price hummed softly, one hand cupping the back of your head, his other settling on your back.

“Take as long as you need,” he murmured, low and soothing. “We’ll walk together, hm?”

“Yeah.” You closed your eyes, relaxing into his warmth. Just a minute. You just needed a minute. Price only held you tighter.

You finally pulled back with one last deep breath. “Okay,” you croaked. “Let’s go.”

Price didn’t object, but he did keep you close as the two of you walked to the pack room. Almost nobody was around, which worked out well, because you were starting to use your captain for help staying upright.

No sooner had you stepped into the pack room than you got swarmed. Somehow, you weren’t exactly sure how, they settled you on the couch pressed up against Simon, with Gaz and Soap chattering as they made up plates of food, and Price hovering behind you and Simon.

“Don’t ask,” you murmured to Simon, fairly sure Price could hear too. “Not yet.”

Simon hummed softly, carefully bundling you even closer to his side. “Not yet,” he agreed, about as soft as he ever got.

Gaz and Soap carried the conversation through dinner, both of them settling around you as well until you were entirely enclosed by pack. It should have made you feel better.

It didn’t.

All you could think of were the past eight days. Eight, you discovered when Soap let it slip. Eight days you’d been stuck in that hood and silence but for the jesses, treated like an animal.

It was almost enough to make you sick.

You swallowed down what you could, but ended up leaving food. It was odd - you would have thought you’d be ravenous, after the last days. But you weren’t. You were barely hungry, only ate to try to stave off their concern.

Which didn’t entirely work, from the quick looks and little touches you endured through the evening.

And then you just… settled. Let one of them take your plate when it was obvious you weren’t going to eat more, and relaxed. Simon stayed on one side of you, refusing to move. You leaned more and more into him as your eyes tried to shut, until he simply pulled you in to use his chest as a pillow. You murmured something, half complaint half thanks, and closed your eyes, the soothing sounds of your pack settling around you.

You woke to total darkness.

For a moment you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. If you moved you’d hear those damn bells, and there was no point because you couldn’t get anywhere, you were trapped, and your wings– your wings–

“Hey, hey, s’alright love,” Simon murmured urgently, hands patting at you. Which was when you realized you were keening, breath hitching in your chest. You still couldn’t see but you could feel your pack moving around you.

“Get the lights,” Price ordered. “Simon?”

“Not sure.” Simon put one hand over your chest. “You need to breathe.” It wasn’t until he put your hand against his chest, letting you feel the exaggerated inflation of his lungs that you realized he was talking to you.

The lights flipped on, bright and sudden, and you went limp. You were fine. You were in the pack room. You didn’t have a hood on.

“Love?” Simon leaned closer to you, eyes dark and worried.

“‘M okay,” you gasped, blinking a few times, finally settling back into reality. “Just. A minute.”

Simon didn’t move, just breathing in again. You did your best to follow along, nerves still strung taut from waking the way you did. Soap pressed up close to your side, his head resting near your hip. Your fingers curled gently in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp to help calm yourself. Based on his pleased hum, that’s what he’d wanted in the first place.

“Better?” Price moved carefully closer, doing a quick visual check.

“Yeah.” You licked your lips, very aware of your dry throat now. “Just.” You clenched your jaw. Admitting weakness was never easy, and this was no different. “Couldn’t see.”

Soap lifted his head to look at you. “Sweets,” he started, carefully, like he was feeling for land mines. “Did they keep the hood on ye?”

You swallowed hard. “Except for when they brought me food.”

“Hood?” Gaz asked, handing over a bottle of water to you, expression mostly blank.

“And jesses,” you confirmed before taking a deep drink of water.

“We’ll make sure there’s a light on for you,” Price said, before anyone else could say anything. Which was honestly for the best - you didn’t think you could talk any more about what had happened just yet.

“You should go back to sleep,” you murmured, setting the water bottle down and scratching Soap’s scalp again. “Too early to be up.”

“Hm.” Price tipped his head, looking at you. Then he huffed softly. “Stubborn.”

You only had time to blink before he was settling back in with the rest of you, getting comfortable. The nest was big enough for all of you, because you’d made sure of that, but still.

You didn’t think anyone would manage to get back to sleep, especially with the light on. But they surprised you - Gaz snored gently against Price’s ribs, while Soap used your hip as a pillow. (He always made the oddest choices.) Price didn’t sleep, but he did close his eyes and relax.

Simon just kept you close, his steady breathing helping your own.

Your pack didn’t quite hover the next few days. They did, however, take rotating shifts making sure someone stayed with you. Simon nudged you into the pack room every night. Gaz had pulled up a nightlight from somewhere, the soft yellow light always left on now. They didn’t let you feel ashamed of it, either, though shame still tried to wiggle into your brain.

Things weren’t okay. Wouldn’t be okay for a while. But they were getting better.

Except for your wings.

You managed not to think about it most of the time, focused on staying human and getting through the worst of the aftereffects. Sure, it wasn’t conventional torture, but it was almost worse.

Things finally came to a head when the rest of the pack shifted, Gaz and Soap racing outside immediately, growling playfully at each other. Ghost followed, more placid, looking at you once over his shoulder.

Price stopped in front of you, the bear easily able to meet your gaze. You knew that if he stood up straight on his hind legs, he’d be much taller than you.

“No.” Your smile was small and tight, pained. “You go. I’m not shifting.”

His head tipped, fuzzy little ears flickering back towards the open door and back to you. He grunted softly and nosed your ribs gently.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll come out for a bit.”

Satisfied, he huffed and went first, lumbering out the door. You followed him, briefly squinting against the light before you adjusted.

Gaz and Soap raced across the open space, occasionally trying to trip each other or jump over each other. Soap even got bold enough to bite Ghost’s tail and run for it, angry cat hot on his tail and gaining fast. Price found a nice sunny spot to watch and make sure they didn’t actually go overboard.

Pretty normal. Except for you. You stood stiff and still, watching them and making no effort to join. It was… too much. It wasn’t their fault, or yours. The only people responsible were dead.

None of them looked when you slipped back inside, as quietly as you could. You had one more thing you needed to do, and you needed some privacy to do it.

Your room was far enough from them that you didn’t worry about being found immediately. You carefully took off your clothes, folding them on your bed. One deep breath. Two.

You could do this. Hell, you’d been doing this since you were a child. Nothing would stop you now.

You shifted between breaths, braced for… something. But nothing happened. You didn’t immediately panic.

Okay. So far so good.

You spread your wings carefully, flapping them a few times. You could just see your reflection in the mirror. Your beak was just as sharp, your crest still upright. Bits of downy feathers stuck up from a lack of preening, but you ignored the vague feeling of wrongness. You had something more important to fix.

Your primaries had all been cut on your right wing. Not just some of them. All of them. It would take months for them to molt on their own. Months of being grounded, being flightless, being useless.

The soft, mournful sound ripped free from your throat, and you flapped again. You could hop, maybe get a bit of air. But you couldn’t fly, not like this.

Unless…

No. No, that was a terrible idea.

Except that it wasn’t, really, a terrible idea. The longer you stood there, head tipped, staring at your clipped feathers in the mirror, the more sense it made.

One last deep breath in and you dipped your head, tipping your wing to make it easier. It took a little shuffling and a little preening to get the right feather in your beak.

The first one came out cleanly, a few drips of blood accompanying it. You dropped the shaft to the floor, not giving yourself time to really feel the pain. You just did it again. And again. And again.

Until the floor was littered with blood and snipped feathers, the red stark on the black and white banded feathers. Your wing burned and ached, throbbing in time with your heart, and your chest heaved with your panting, beak open. You felt almost dizzy with it, mind gone blank.

“Sweets?” The panicked yell made you blink and cheep softly, though you didn’t move yet. Your door was unlocked. “Sweets, I smell blood.” Gaz hit the door a moment later, nearly tumbling inside when the door opened easily. He froze when he spotted you, anguish twisting his features. “Oh, Sweets, what did you do?”

You chirped at him, turning carefully, keeping your right wing flared.

Gaz knelt in front of you, ducking down to examine where you’d pulled out your feathers. “Doesn’t look like you’re still bleeding,” he murmured, almost absently preening your feathers. “But why–?”

You chirped at him and picked up one of the feathers by the shaft, showing him the cut end.

“Cut?” He frowned, gaze darting between you and the small pile of feathers, before realization hit. He swallowed hard, rage like a dark thundercloud. “But why pull them?”

You chirped softly, dropping the feather and hopping closer to him. You were not designed for flat floors, dammit, you were designed for trees!

“Do you wanna shift?” Gaz asked, frowning a little at you.

You shook yourself. Now that you’d shifted, you actually felt a little better. Still kind of awful, because you couldn’t fly, but you didn’t feel quite as raw.

He huffed. “Course not,” he agreed with a wry smile. “Can I help you preen?”

You chirped softly again, ducking your head under his hand. He took it as permission, which it was, and began combing through your feathers gently.

“Gonna have to talk to one of us eventually,” he murmured, hands gentle over your injured wing. “Can’t put it off forever.”

You clicked your beak at him and stretched, gently preening his hair. He huffed but allowed it, muttering something about you being a menace.

Gaz ended up letting you perch on his arm as he walked back to the pack room. Price huffed at your wing, gently pulling it to get a better look.

“Did you do this or did they?” His voice was calm, but you knew your alpha. He was not calm.

You chirped softly, looking to Gaz to answer for you.

“She pulled ‘em, but they were clipped.”

“Ah.” Price blew out a breath, fingers gentle as he checked your secondaries. “Force ‘em to come in sooner?”

You chirped a soft affirmative.

“Gonna need to eat more, then.” The look he gave you told you this was not an argument you would win. So you didn’t fight.

You let them take care of you and fuss (not too much), and you just worked on being better.

It took time, but the worst of the nightmares faded. Pitch black still bothered you but it was manageable, rather than panic attack inducing every time.

Things got better.

Your feathers still hadn’t come in yet, but you could be patient a little while longer. You could feel the itch where they were forming and growing. Good enough.

Your first op was supposed to be an easy one. Well. As easy as anything the 141 took on.

You, Price, and Gaz were clearing one building while Soap and Ghost cleared another. It was… not easy, but routine.

Until you stumbled over one man Gaz missed.

The man was in the back of the room, laying low. You probably wouldn’t have spotted him except a bit of light fell right on a very familiar feather. The black and white banding could, hypothetically, have been from any number of birds.

But you knew.

An angry snarl twisted your lips, and you stepped intentionally into the room, barely remembering to call to Price over your shoulder, gaze locked on your target. Your gun was steady on him.

He watched you right back, one hand reaching for a weapon from a fallen comrade in a way he probably thought was stealthy.

The bullet you planted between him and the weapon disabused him of that notion.

“Where did you get that feather?” you asked, voice low and growly. If you weren’t so focused, it would have startled you to hear how furious you sounded.

He looked up at you and grinned, front two teeth missing. You jerked back, body recalling more vividly than your mind the sudden darkness that had followed that grin.

“Easy,” Price murmured from behind you, just to the side. Close enough to support you and take the shot if you needed, but giving you space to do it yourself.

You breathed in deep. And shot him. For many reasons, including not leaving an enemy alive at your back.

But bending down to pull your feather from his shirt was just for you.

“You broken?” Price watched you, giving you space still. Letting you decide.

You tucked the feather in your vest and smiled. “Not today.” You nudged him, tipping your head to rest against his shoulder for just a moment, before you started walking again. “If we finish up before Soap, he promised he’d buy cookies.”

Price’s chuckle followed you out of the room. Gaz called over comms that the building was clear, and Soap started swearing. He and Gaz went back and forth on the matter of the cookies, easy bickering in the middle of everything else.

You just laughed, knowing your pack had you. Always.

#shifter au #f!reader #reader x 141 #john price x reader #simon “ghost” riley x reader #kyle “gaz” garrick x reader #johnny “soap” mactavish x reader

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skipper1331 · 9 months

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Butterfly // Alessia Russo

Brody Armstrong once said: "When you meet someone for the first time, that’s not the whole book. That’s just the first page" and she’s totally right. When you first met Alessia you didn’t know that quote, you could barely speak let alone read but over the years, when got older, you started to understand it. The day you met her, the first page was written and your story began. Now, Alessia and you have been together for 9 years, 3 of them married and it‘s still not finished.

age 4

You have known each other since you were 4. The two of you lived in the same street and played at the same playground.

You were building a sandcastle with 3 towers, two of them already finished when a little girl ran towards the sandbox you were sitting in. As clumsy as the girl was she stumbled over the edge of the box, falling on your towers, smashing them under her body. With wide eyes you looked at the blonde, her face full of sand "i‘m sowwy" she apologized immediately. You looked to your mother who was talking to a stranger. "That‘s my mum." the sandcastle smasher pointed at the woman next to your mother. "You broke my castle" she looked at you before filling your bucket with sand, ready to build a new castle. "I‘m Alessia"

"My name is y/n"

That day Alessia and you became friends.

age 6

Less was standing at the table, drinking something while she watched you. You were running around in the Russo garden, trying to catch a butterfly. But not only her eyes were on you but also the eyes of her mum and your mum. "She‘s my butterfly" the blonde admitted without thinking. "Lessi, she’s not a butterfly, she’s a girl." her mother said to her, not liking that she referred to you as an animal. "Then, she‘s my girl!" she put down the glass of water and ran back to you with the intention to help you catch the butterfly. It didn‘t work. Either it was too high to reach or no longer in sight so you decided to kick a ball instead.

age 10

The two of you were in training when one of your teammates stood on your ankle. It wasn’t on purpose but when the italian saw you go down, holding your ankle, crying, she ran up to you, pushing the girl away from you. She didn't want her around you any longer. "Please stop crying, butterfly" Lessi begged as she wiped the hair out of your face. "It hurts" by now the coach joined you as well, taking of your boot. You winced, Alessia instantly put her arm around shoulder, trying to comfort you and sort of protect you. Your ankle was red, surely there was going to be a bruise "Let’s get you to the sidelines, okay?" Coach said as the helped you up but you couldn‘t put weight on your foot. "I got it from here, coach" the blonde grumbled as she took your hands. "You sure?"

"Yes" when the coach walked away to the others girls Less took the matter in her own hands. "I‘m gonna carry you to the side" she stated as she picked you up with an ease. She carried you out of the way and sat you back down slowly. She sat beside you, glaring at the girl who hurt you. As a thank you you laid your head on Lessi‘s shoulder.

In that moment, Alessia promised herself to protect you forever.

age 14

When Alessia was 14 she realized she liked girls. That she liked a girl, a special girl. You. She loved the way your laugh sounded, she loved the way you smiled. She loved the way you would take care of her if she had been clumsy, she loved your kindness. She loved your eyes, the way they shone. She loved that she could make you laugh and blush. She loved you, you‘re her butterfly.

You fell in love with Alessia a long time ago, probably to a time where you didn‘t know what love was. She made you feel special.

It was after a home game when Alessia first kissed you. Alessia scored a hattrick and you scored as well. It was afternoon as her mum picked you up, "see you in 30 minutes, butterfly?" the striker asked as her mum dropped you off. She loved to call you butterfly and has done it for years now. Everybody knew. "Yes. Thanks for the ride, Carol!"

"No problem, honey"

Later that day, you met at your spot. It was a bench at the small lake your town had. "Your hattrick was amazing!" you stated proudly as she got off her bike. "Your goal was a banger though" she smiled as sat down next to you, her hair still wet. You blushed under her gaze, the tip of your ears turning red "no need to get shy, butterfly" the italian smiled while she pinched your cheeks "stop it" you whined as your cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. "I- i can‘t" her hands cupped your cheek as she gazed in your eyes, getting lost in them. "Lessi" you breathed as her face inched closer. You could feel her breath against your lips. Her gaze flicked to your lips before she looked back in your eyes. As she made the final move with pushing her lips against yours you rested your hands on her knees, not knowing where else to put them. It was your first kiss with Alessia and your first kiss in general, you didn‘t even know how to move your lips so you didn‘t and neither did Lessi. "Oh my god," she whispered as she pulled apart "i‘m so sorry." Quickly, she grabbed her bike and cycled home, leaving you alone at the bench. Dazed, your fingers touched the spot where Alessias lips had been a minute ago. "Wow"

age 15

Behind closed doors, you kissed multiple times a day. It was one of your favorite things to do yet you were not offically together. Sometimes she asked you to take you out on a date and sometimes you asked her but the girlfriend question has never been asked, both of you too shy.

You were hanging out at her house, sitting on her bed while she sat on the bean bag. "You don‘t know what happened today"

"Tell me, butterfly"

"You know, Josh, the dark haired guy. He asked me out" you laughed, letting your head fall into her pillow. "What?!" the striker shouted, jumping off her seat. She didn‘t find it funny at all that Josh asked you out. You, her girl, her butterfly. "What did you say?" she asked as stepped closer to you. "I said no," a sigh of relief left her body "did you think i would‘ve said yes?"

"I don‘t know?" she admitted, you weren‘t fully hers yet. "Lessi," you pulled her on to you, your fingers playing with the hem of her shirt "I want to be your girlfriend"

"Be my girlfriend, butterfly."

The two of you shared a sweet kiss, the first one of many as girlfriends.

age 16

"Do you want sleep at mine, tonight?" your girlfriend of one year asked. "My parents and brothers won‘t be home until sunday afternoon" her face turned bright red as she played with your fingers. "I would love to"

You didn‘t know why you were nervous, you had stayed at Alessias house multiple times but this time it felt different, for the both of you. "Hi, butterfly" the blonde smiled as she opened the door. "I hope you‘re hungry because i made lasagna" you stepped into her home - your second home - as she closed the door. Pressing a kiss to your temple she pulled you into the kitchen. "It looks perfect, baby"

Your girlfriend and you ate dinner on the couch while watching Mamma Mia. After finishing the dish, the empty plates rested on the coffee table. Alessia was hugging your smaller figure with her head hiding in the crook of you neck, the movie long forgotten. Your legs were tangled together while you played with her hair as she started to press kisses along your neck. "Baby" you breathed, only encouraging her to leave some hickies on your neck. Her kisses trailed up your jaw and then to your lips which she kissed passionately. Her hands held your neck while your hands made their way under her hoodie, scratching her back, occasionally running your fingers over her abs. It made her go crazy. "Do you wanna go upstairs?" she asked, wanting to take steps further with you. Her lips were just as swollen as yours. "Yeah"

In her room, she immediately started to kiss you again, grabbing your waist and pulling you in to her. Your arms looped around her neck as she walked you back against her door. She pulled on your (her) hoodie, asking If she could take it off. Within seconds you got rid of it. "You‘re so beautiful" the italian whispered as she looked over you. "Take yours off, too" - she did.

On her bed, she was hovering above you, the two of you only in your underwear. "Are you sure you want this?" she questioned, just to be sure. "Yes, lessi. Yes" you smiled at one another before you leaned up to re-connect your lips.

"I love you"

"I love you, too"

age 18

Long distance. With Lessi being at unc and you being in England, it was hard but you managed. You had to.

"Were gonna be okay even when i‘m at unc, don’t we?" Her voice was quiet, afraid of your answer. She was playing with your hair while your head rested on chest "of course we will" you stated confidently. Yes, it would be hard, maybe even horrible at times but you loved her and she loved you. "You won‘t find another girl, promise me." Your head snapped in her direction as she looked so vulnerable. "Lessi, i love you! There‘ll never be another girl, okay?" your girl nodded shyly as you whispered "i promise you" before kissing her forehead.

To be honest, your relationship had it‘s problems with her being far away. Jealousy, and longing were the two biggest problems on both sides but you communicated your feelings and worries. And in the end, it made your relationship grow stronger.

age 21

Lessi was nervous. For months, she had planned this day. Ella was her savior because she couldn‘t talk to you about it like she normally would. The italian was about to propose to you. For years, you have been her girl, her one and only. She knew you were the one, she wanted to spend forever and longer with you. The plan was simple: the two of you would visit your hometown and her brothers would distract you as long as she needed them to so that she can prepare everything at your spot. She had the blessing of your parents, from everyone that was important to you.

As she finished preparing everything, she texted in the siblings group chat.

Less

ready.

"Lessi is waiting for you" Luca said as she scanned her text. "What?" you asked confused, not understading anything. She told you she would get food. "Go to your favorite spot" Gio stated as she pushed you gently out of the door. And you did.

You saw her standing near the lake, she looked beautiful under the sun light. Rose petals were spread on the floor, music playing softly in the backround. "Baby, what’s this?" you asked, admiring everything around her. "Butterfly," she grabbed your hands, pulling you in front of her "when I was 4 I met you for the first time and when I was 14 I first realized that I liked you, I kissed you for the first time, too. In that decade you became my butterfly. I‘ve never told you why or how but that changes now. It was a summer day, you were at my house. I remember drinking some water as you chased after a butterfly. Then you became my butterfly. You‘re my biggest supporter, my number one fan, you bring the best out of me as a football player and human and I love you so much. I couldn’t have wished for a better friend, best friend and girlfriend" you were crying by now while she took a deep breath before she continued. "I want you to be my wife." As she went down on one knee, she pulled a velvet box out of her pocket "I promise you to cherish you and I promise you that I will do everything in my power to make you happy so will you make me the happiest person alive, will you marry me?"

"Yes!!! A thousand times yes!"

A year later, the two of you got happily married and you could proudly call yourself Y/n Russo.

age 23, summer 2022

"We‘re champions!" you shouted as you jumped on Lessi who hugged you like her life was depending on it. "We did it" she mumbled into your neck, still completely in shock. When your feet touched the ground, you didn‘t let go of your wife and neither did she. Surrounded by your own little bubble, you only cared for one another in this moment. As Alessia pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead your little bubble was broken by an Ella Toone. She jumped on both of you, one leg around Less' hip and one around yours as she hugged you in a death grip.

Each lioness was drunk as hell. Everyone had their jerseys on and their medal around their necks as they danced. "I‘m so proud of you" you whispered against your lovers lips. "I love youuu" she replied in her drunken state, twirling you around. "My name on your back always does things to me" she almost moaned, her fingers tracing over the letters of her - your - name.

Both of you felt at peace, surrounded by each other, your family and friends. It was a night to remember.

age 24

The world cup dream came true. Less and you were in the squad. As you heard the news you squealed, jumped up and down, ran through your home. Your bodies were filled with pure joy.

The first night in Australia was wow. You couldn‘t believe that you were actually here. Also that the two of you shared a room was amazing; waking up and going to sleep in each others arms.

When your off day came by you slept a little longer than you normally would. Lessi had her arm around you, already awake as she traced her finger over your tattoo. Shortly after the euros, you decided to get matching tattoos so now there rested the 23 on your collarbone while she got a butterfly at the same spot on her body. It was nothing big but it held so much meaning behind it.

Your story began 20 years ago and still hasn't come to an end nor does it intend to end as you promised one another in your vows.

Each day, the story of the 23 and butterfly will continue.

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