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halfvalid · 7 months

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the blade daughter, pt. 1

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 8.3k this part

description: as the daughter of dracule mihawk, you've been living alone at home, unwilling to go out and find a life of your own due to the belief that your father needs you around. but when he sends you off to buy him a jacket, you end up running into a pirate crew—and a particular swordsman—that end up changing how you feel.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, sexual harassment (from nameless OC), slow burn

author’s note: finally she's here! i'm posting it spaced out because i don't want to overload you all with a 23.6k fic in one post... IMPORTANT NOTE: i did some research from the animanga for mihawk's personality, weapons, and home, but this is still very much only a fic for OPLA and not the other iterations of the material.

the fic is not exactly only a romance; it focuses a lot on the reader's personal character development along with her relationship with mihawk too. i hope you guys don't mind! i kind of lost the plot lol.

reader is mihawk's biological daughter, but is stated to take after her mother and doesn't bear similarity to mihawk. so the fic is poc reader friendly!

Your dad was late to dinner again.

To be fair, Dracule Mihawk didn’t exactly follow a schedule. He was fickle—back when you’d been a girl, he’d been around all the time, because although he was a lot of things, Mihawk was not an absentee parent. But as you’d grown older, he started being less strict, leaving you alone for days and weeks until you’d finally matured into an adult. Mihawk spent most of his time away from the house, now—but you agreed to have dinner together every week, no matter what part of the ocean he was in.

And he was late.

You’d started cooking the meal early, only for Mihawk to not show up when everything was ready. Or after everything was ready. Or even when everything had cooled, and you’d eaten your fill, and waited in your chair for him to arrive. He finally showed up a quarter past two in the morning, the doors of the dining room bursting open to announce his entrance.

You cracked an eye open from where you’d been dozing in your seat. “You’re late.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” Mihawk said, taking his hat off and bowing with a flourish. He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “I got a little busy. Garp had me deal with a pirate in the East Blue.”

You made a face at him as he sat down to eat. “Could’ve at least let me know. Den den mushi exist for a reason.”

“Ah, well, my apologies.” Mihawk sighed, dramatic as ever—you couldn’t find it in you to be mad at him for more than a few minutes, though, something he knew well. “It would’ve gone quickly had some upstart not challenged me to a duel. So I had to spend the night.” He tsked, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “And then I went to visit an old friend. Red-haired Shanks.”

“I remember him.” You got up from your seat, moving to the kitchen to rifle in the icebox for a popsicle. “Another duel? What’s this week’s body count?”

“You know I don’t tally such trifling matters, sweetheart,” Mihawk said. You shrugged, leaning against the doorway of the kitchen to watch him start eating. “This pasta is cold.”

“Wasn’t cold four hours ago,” you said, languidly licking at your popsicle. “No sympathy here, dad.”

“Fine,” Mihawk said. “Anyway, I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of the man. Tall, green hair, three swords.” He wrinkled his nose. “Said people called him the Demon.”

“Roronoa Zoro,” you affirmed, slipping into the chair beside your father. “Scariest pirate hunter in the East Blue. You killed him?”

“Clearly not much of a pirate hunter, considering he’s a pirate now,” Mihawk said, the scrape of his knife and fork ringing around the room. “Joined the man I Garp sent me after, this little boy in a straw hat. And no. I let him and his crew go.”

You paused, voice faltering as you registered the words. “You let him live?”

“Yes. He was rather interesting. I expect he’ll come find me later,” Mihawk answered. You stared at him, still baffled. Your father was a lot of things, but a man of mercy was not one of them. Your earliest memory of him exacting his power over others was when you’d been two, watching from your crib as he speared the nanny for calling you a brat. A touching gesture, for certain, but still. “But enough about work. How have you been, little hawk?”

“Bored,” you said with a sigh. “It’s so dull on this island.”

Mihawk looked amused. “You could leave. I’m not restricting you here anymore.” Back in your teen years, Mihawk hadn’t let you leave the house—something about enemies wanting to kill his daughter or whatever else nonsense. He’d trained you personally, though, so you were nearly as fearsome as your father—able to beat anyone in combat in the blink of an eye. “You don’t have to stay.”

“The house would get all dusty,” you protested, lips tugging into a line. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t done any exploring. Mihawk had taken you to all four seas throughout your adolescence, and you’d taken vacations to everywhere of importance. You just—didn’t have much of a point to leave, really. You very much preferred not to, something tying you firmly to the island, to your castle. “And besides, where would I even go?”

“I hear the East Blue is interesting this time of year,” Mihawk said. “You could venture around here, but…” He shrugged. “The Grand Line is dangerous.”

You made a face. “I’ve lived here my entire life. I can take care of myself.”

“Certainly,” Mihawk agreed easily. “But it’s simply not worth it. You really should get out more, dear. It’s not good for your health.”

“Maybe,” you said, but you weren’t very enthusiastic about it. “Here, I’ll clean Yoru for you while you finish eating.” You moved around the back of his chair, lifting his sword off the jacket he hadn’t bothered to shed from his back. You grimaced upon seeing a line of dried blood along the blade. “Dad.”

“Sorry, dear,” Mihawk said, and you rolled your eyes, carrying the sword over to the living room. You set Yoru down with a heavy thud, pulling out a box of materials. Mihawk came over to watch you, one arm propped against the doorway as his aureate eyes gazed down as you worked.

Compared to your dad, you looked relatively normal. You’d always taken after your mother—a mysterious woman you barely had any memories of—and the relation between the two of you was never immediately obvious. The fact your eyes were plainly normal instead of bearing the golden hawk eyes Mihawk had was another factor added to that, too.

You pulled out a bottle of oil, pouring it generously over Yoru’s blade before grabbing a cloth to carefully wipe it with. “Where in the East Blue?” you asked abruptly, not looking up. Mihawk’s fork clinked along the ceramic of his bowl, presumably surprised you’d actually consider the offer of leaving.

“Well, I could send you out to run some errands if you wish. I’ve got some things to attend to,” Mihawk optioned. “There’s this one store in Loguetown with a rather nice jacket I’ve had my eye on.”

You shot him a disbelieving look. “You want me to go to the East Blue to buy you a jacket.”

Mihawk shrugged. “My birthday’s coming up.”

“No, it’s not.” You slid your rag along the edge of Yoru’s blade, folding it in half before wiping the entire thing again to ensure there was no grime left. “Finished. Maybe I’ll just stay—”

Mihawk gave you a look.

“Fine. Loguetown it is,” you said with a sigh. “Don’t give me a crew. I’ll just take one of the sloops. I’ll get your dumb jacket for you.” You got up, tossing the cloth over a shoulder to hand wash later. “I’ll leave later today.”

Mihawk clicked his tongue. “You’re so enthusiastic, darling. I can practically see the excitement oozing off of you.”

You rolled your eyes, moving past him to go up to your room. “Short trip,” you said. “No more than a couple of days.”

“The little hawk, so incited to leave the nest.”

“Shut up.”

Mihawk had complied with your wishes, as when you woke up the next morning, he had already prepared a sloop for you to board alone. You packed some of your things, not being too fussy about the clothing or other objects, knowing that the boat was already well-stocked on its own. Mihawk waited to send you off, though you knew he probably had affairs to attend to by now.

“Be good, darling,” he said, while you were loading up the last of your stuff. Just like your father, you preferred to wear your sword on your back; a present he’d given you at the age of thirteen. “I’ll call you. I’ve got business in the South Blue.”

“Have fun,” you said, and he kissed the back of your hand before pushing you off.

Loguetown was just how you’d remembered it, buzzing with civilians and pirates alike. The stores were plentiful, and filled to the brim with customers—it was all a little overwhelming compared to the peace and quiet you were used to. Still, it wasn’t a bad place to stay for a few weeks, and you might as well take your time there.

You slung your coat on as you exited the docks, glancing around the town in search of something to do first. Since you weren’t especially interested in retrieving a jacket for your father just yet, you beelined to the nearest tavern to grab something to eat. It was a lot easier traveling without Mihawk at your side—as much as you loved him, he had the habit of attracting both trouble and fear wherever he went, and he was near impossible to go out with.

The tavern was full, but not too crowded, and you managed to slip over to the bar without much trouble. It seemed to mostly consist of pirates—rough men with flowing jackets and holsters of guns and swords at their hip, clustered together in groupings that clearly proved their alliances with each other. You were one of the only patrons who was alone.

You gestured for the barkeep, and she bustled over from where she was serving a particularly ragtag group of pirates. They were mismatched, colors oddly paired—a girl with neon orange hair, a short man with a straw hat, one wearing a flowery shirt and goggles and the last man dressed in clothes far too formal for a bar. “What can I get for you?” she asked, a thick brogue dragging down her words.

You told her your drink order, still eyeing the group. The barkeep followed your vision and let out a sigh. “Don’t bother. Three men have already tried to capture him for the bounty. Broke half my furniture. And we got a rule here, anyway—no fightin’.”

“Does he have a bounty?” you asked with a frown. She scoffed.

“Does he ever. Thirty million berry, child. Highest in the East Blue.” She shook her head. “That crew won’t let anyone touch ‘im. Hell, I think his first mate’s still outside cleaning up the bodies.” She sighed again. “Well, I’ll have that drink out for you in a moment.”

You nodded, slipping into the closest available chair. Now that you were paying attention, you could see practically every pair of eyes fixed on the group—specifically, on the man in the center wearing the straw hat.

Before you could ask another question, the door to the tavern opened, and a lean, green-haired man filled the doorway. You glanced over at the barkeep, a flash of recognition in your eyes. “That’s Roronoa Zoro.”

“Aye,” she said, setting your drink in front of you. “If there’s someone who might be able to cash in that bounty, it’d be him. But believe it or not, he’s with the Straw Hat.”

You watched as the pirate hunter made his way to the table the others sat at. The glint of his famed three earrings reflected off the tavern lights, and the sword on his hip swayed as he walked—but there was only one rather than the three you’d heard tales about. “Yeah, my father said something of the sort.”

The barkeep hummed, turning to attend to a pirate who’d taken a seat at your left. “And who’s your father, lass?”

“Dracule Mihawk.”

The pirate beside you raised his head, turning towards you in almost alarm. Beside him, his crew quieted, and the barkeep glanced up to meet your eyes. “Dracule Mihawk?” she repeated incredulously.

“He sent me to buy him a coat,” you said. “I don’t suppose you know where any shops are around here?”

“Er, there’s a shop off main you might want to see,” the barkeep said, eyes flickering over to the pirate crew that had changed their focus to you. “Anything else for you, then?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you said, taking another sip of your drink. She nodded, leaving the bar in favor of moving over to another table. The pirate beside you turned slowly, stool scraping against the floor as he sneered down at you.

“Dracule Mihawk’s daughter, eh?” he asked. “Care if I buy you a drink?” Behind him, the rest of his crew tittered. You just sighed.

“Sorry, my father doesn’t let me go out with anyone who hasn’t bested me in combat.” You knocked back the rest of your drink, glancing up and down the pirate’s figure. He didn’t look like much—two pistols strapped to the hip, a longsword on the other, a raggedy leather jacket with a hat to match.

The pirate scoffed. “Please,” he said, though you could see his skin turning rapidly crimson. “I doubt you’re even related to him. No hawk eyes or nothing.”

You met his gaze, lips tightening into a line. “I take after my mother.”

“Biggest lie I ever heard, aye, crew?” The pirate turned back towards the rest of his men, and they cheered in agreement. You huffed out a sigh, trying your very best not to turn combative—despite everything, you were proud of your relationship with your father, and anyone trying to call you a liar for your lineage just left you vexed and angry. Before you could step away, though, the pirate turned towards the rest of the tavern, apparently having had a bit too much liquor. He raised his voice, practically yelling now. “Oi! This girl thinks she’s the daughter of Dracule Mihawk!”

Out of your peripheral vision, you saw Roronoa Zoro look up, the rest of his crew glancing over at you at the words. You were distracted within a second, the pirate shoving your arm. “Hey, don’t look away, girl. I’m trying to—”

You grabbed onto his wrist, nails razor-sharp as they embedded into his skin. “Don’t touch me.”

“Oh, you think you’re tough, do you?” The pirate yanked his hand out of your grip. “Did your daddy teach you how to fight, huh? Think you can beat me?”

“I know I can beat you,” you answered. The pirate reached for his sword, then, fingers tightening around the hilt.

“Alright, let’s make it a bet then. You beat me, I believe your claim about being Mihawk’s daughter.” His lips curled back into an ugly sneer, and you debated stepping out of the conversation and just going off to find that shop for your dad’s coat anyway. Fights like these were never worth getting into, and you really didn’t want to break any more of the barkeep’s furniture after she’d let out her annoyances to you.

Before you could, though, the pirate opened his big mouth once again.

“I beat you, and you go to bed with me.”

You were whipping your sword out before you could even think, red flashing in your vision as you scraped your blade out from the holster on your back. The metal gleamed under the lights, white steel bright as day as you leveled it in your hand. It wasn’t the largest weapon, a perfectly balanced cut-and-thrust spadroon with a golden hilt wrapped in white ribbon. You tightened your grip on the handle.

“I beat you,” you hissed, voice low, “and you’re dead.”

He lunged for you, pulling his sword out in one solid stroke and meeting yours in a loud clang. You shot an apologetic look towards the barkeep, spinning on your back leg and kicking the pirate away. The force caused him to stumble, sword skittering to the side as you shoved it off your blade.

One of his crew members had cocked a gun to your head, and you spun your swords toward him, blade cutting through the metal like it was butter. The rest of the crew stepped back, one or two of them lunging for you. You parried all of their attacks, shoving them to the ground until they stopped trying to fight.

The captain had gotten up, a fierce snarl upon his face as you slammed your blade down towards him. He blocked it with his sword, and then went for various attacks towards your figure—you dodged each one of them, parrying them easily as you moved backwards. At the last one, you used your weight to buck the sword back in his direction, and he stumbled again.

You ducked down, sweeping him off his feet with a well-aimed kick to his shins, and he fell, sword clattering out of reach as he dropped flat on his back. You towered over him, pointing the edge of your blade at his throat.

“You want me to go outside to kill him?” you asked. The barkeep sighed.

“If you don’t mind, lass.”

“Not at all.” You bent over, grabbing firmly onto the pirate’s shirt and yanking him upwards. His crew made a move towards you, but you just shoved your sword in their direction, and they stepped away. You spun your sword’s hilt around in your hand with a flourish, then started dragging the captain out the tavern door.

“No—wait—let me go,” the pirate begged, once you dropped him to the gravel outside and moved your sword to his throat again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t mean it—you’re a pretty girl, that’s all—”

“I don’t date men who can’t beat me in combat,” you said coolly. “Lower your expectations.” With that, you spun your sword again, sliding it back on the holster of your jacket. “I’ll let you live just this once. If you ever make any comments towards a woman again—”

“I get it. I’m sorry,” the man said, scrambling to his feet. You just eyed him.

“I need another drink.”

The tavern was dead silent when you returned to your seat, gingerly sitting back down on the stool you’d first occupied. “Another drink, if you don’t mind,” you said to the barkeep, and she nodded. A moment passed as she filled your mug, and then she asked—

“Is Dracule Mihawk really your father?”

“Unfortunately,” you muttered, taking the drink she offered and taking a swig. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the Straw Hat pirate and his crew muttering amongst themselves. One of them nudged Roronoa Zoro in the side, and he grimaced, the loose shirt he wore parting with the motion. You caught a glimpse of bandages, wound tight with blood seeping through a familiar line. Yoru’s doing.

Zoro stood up, making his way over to the bar beside you. He propped his elbows on the table, but he didn’t sit, nodding at the barkeep. “Another round for my friends,” he said. His voice was quieter than you’d expected; a low mutter and almost soft in timbre. He glanced over at you, eyes flickering down and up again before he spoke. “I tried to kill your father.”

“Yeah, he told me,” you said. “Roronoa Zoro. What happened to your other two swords?”

Zoro scoffed. “Your dad.”

“He can be a little dramatic sometimes,” you said apologetically. He glanced over you again.

“You don’t look much like him.” He paused. “Figured I’d know if Mihawk had a daughter.”

“I take after my mother, and he’s very overprotective,” you said, getting just the slightest bit annoyed about everyone questioning your parentage. The barkeep returned then, sliding five beers across the table over to Zoro, and you stood up. “Now if you’d excuse me, I have some shopping to do.”

You exited the tavern after paying your tab, wandering around the streets of Loguetown to find the closest clothing store. Your father’s style was ridiculously grand, so it’d be something in the nicer branch of the city—you had just entered your best guess when you pulled out a shell phone, pushing the little snail into your ear and calling your father’s number.

He picked up on the first ring. “What is it, darling?”

“Did you have a specific coat in mind?” You glanced through a row of black leather, trying to find one that’d match Mihawk’s liking. “I’m at this place called Lady Tide’s Dressing Boutique. It’s the bougiest place I could find.”

“Lady Tide’s would be correct,” Mihawk said. “I trust your taste. Pick something I’d like.”

“You better be paying me back for this,” you threatened, turning the corner as you spoke. You jumped back in surprise, letting out a squeak as the Straw Hat pirate from before appeared right in front of you, a grin stretching up his face.

Mihawk’s laugh crackled through the line at your surprise. “Get startled, dear?”

“The pirate Garp sent you after is stalking me,” you deadpanned. The Straw Hat pirate’s grin only widened. “I’ll call you back.”

You hung up, taking the den den mushi out of your ear and back into its case. “What?”

“You’re a really good fighter,” the Straw Hat said brightly. “I’m Monkey D. Luffy, and I’m going to be King of the Pirates. You should think about joining my crew!”

“I—” you stared at him in disbelief, mind reeling from the whiplash of his words. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not a pirate.”

Luffy tilted his head to the side in question. “But your dad is Mihawk.”

“That doesn’t make me a pirate. I just stay at home for the most part,” you said. Luffy continued following you around the store, however, even as you stepped past him to browse more jackets. You glimpsed the rest of his crew hanging around the store, though none seemed to do any actual shopping. You figured Lady Tide’s was probably out of their price range. “Why are you still following me?”

“I think you should join my crew,” Luffy repeated. “Have you ever been to the Grand Line? That’s where we’re headed next.”

You gave him a look. “I live in the Grand Line.”

“Whoa,” Luffy breathed. “Well, you must know all about it, then!”

You turned away from him, picking a jacket off the rack in front of you and appraising it. Golden buttons, long tailcoat, wide lapels—not really Mihawk’s taste. You set it back. “Not really,” you finally answered. “Like I said, I stay at home for the most part. Haven’t done much exploring.”

“Don’t you want to?” Luffy asked, taking a step closer to you. You flinched. “Your dad’s one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea! You should be going out and adventuring, not just staying at home and doing whatever Mihawk tells you to!”

“Don’t,” you snapped, voice low. “I stay home because I want to. Not because my dad forces me to.” Your words bore no lie, but still, there was a rumble of uncertainty deep in your gut. Mihawk had always been supportive, but pirating had always been his thing. You preferred the solace of your own home, and there was no point in adventuring when Mihawk had seen it all before.

“I’m just saying, what do you even do all day?” Luffy asked with a quirk of the lip. “Stay home and clean? Go out once in a while to buy groceries or get stuff for your dad?” He gestured at the coat you were holding, and you flushed, shoving it back onto the rack. “Isn’t it boring? Don’t you want more than such an average life?”

“I’m perfectly happy with my life right now, thank you,” you snapped. “Go preach to someone else.”

Luffy had stopped walking, then, looking at you with an almost sympathetic expression on his face. “Living isn’t the same as thriving, you know,” he said. “You should go out. Find adventure. Aren’t there things you want to know? Questions you want answered?”

“Luffy.” You turned to see Roronoa Zoro move to his captain’s side, head dipping as he spoke to him. His tone was quiet, but you could still overhear— “Leave her alone. We’ve got business.”

Luffy looked dejected at that, but he agreed, bowing his head towards you before turning to the rest of his crew. They’d gathered by the mouth of the store, engaged in their own various activities as they waited. You watched Luffy turn to leave, words climbing up your throat even as you tried to swallow them down. “Wait!”

Luffy turned, that bright smile reappearing on his face. “What?”

“I want to know one thing,” you said, taking a step closer to the captain and his first mate. You glanced up at Zoro, who met your gaze. His face seemed carved of steel, skin bearing no grimace, eyes betraying nothing. “Why did my father let you live?”

Zoro looked away, and you realized he probably didn’t know the answer himself. Before you could speak again, though, Luffy interrupted.

“Because Zoro’s the best,” he declared, capturing your attention away from the injured swordsman. He slapped Zoro’s bicep with a heavy thud, and you were surprised when the other man didn’t even flinch. “And he’s gonna be better than Mihawk one day. He’s going to defeat him in a duel and take his title and become—”

“The world’s greatest swordsman,” Zoro finished. The words were muttered under his breath, clearly to himself rather than intending for you to hear.

You watched them for a moment before finally turning away. “Okay,” you said. “Good luck with that.”

Luffy stared at you for a moment longer, but Zoro was already turning away and walking towards the rest of the crew. There was an unsettling feeling in your gut, one you tried to squash. Whatever—you had better things to do than worry about some Straw Hat pirate and a retired pirate hunter.

You returned to your browsing, looking through various jacket designs until you finally fell across one you were certain your father liked. It was ridiculously expensive, but your father’s taste had always been so—you purchased it without a second thought, slinging it across a shoulder and returning to your sloop for the rest of the day.

To your great disappointment, the Straw Hat pirate’s words continued to echo throughout your head. His demeanor was off-putting, to say the least—the extreme amounts of candor and cheeriness he had made for a disorienting combination. Even as you tried to stop thinking about his terrifyingly honest words, you couldn’t. Don’t you want more than such an average life?

You sighed, mood irritable from the day's events. You’d returned to your sloop and hadn’t done much of anything for a few hours—past having a meal and cleaning up your boat, there was nothing to do. You mulled over your options, wondering if you shouldn’t just start the journey back home. But Luffy’s words came back to you.

“I need a drink,” you muttered, donning your coat and leaving to attend the first bar you could find.

You went someplace ritzy this time, near the peak of Loguetown where neon lights glimmered in the dark hour. It was crowded, and music blasted through the bar, pounding bass nearly making the floor reverberate. You slipped inside without much trouble, squeezing through the crowd and making way for the bar at the other end of the room.

You bought yourself a drink, knocking it back in just a few gulps. There were marines patrolling around in the building, although none of them seemed too keen on completing any of their duties. Pirates walked around freely too, but these ones were more dignified than the ones you’d seen in the tavern at town.

“You hear Straw Hat Luffy’s here at Loguetown right now?” someone muttered to your right. You glanced over with a furtive gaze to see who was speaking—two men, dressed in fine silks and coats. Swords dangled from their hips. Pirates, maybe, or pirate hunters. “His ship’s docked over by south port.”

“You’re not going to try and nab him, are you?” the other pirate hunter asked, fingers pinched around a thin glass of something. “That bounty’s hefty, but fighting them’ll be…”

“I’m getting a bunch of hunters together,” the first one said. “We’ll split the bounty. At midnight, once the whole crew’s asleep. I followed the navigator; seems they’re not leaving until the morning.”

“Thirty million split between many isn’t much.”

“Well.” The hunter made a vague gesture, a smirk playing at his lips. “I doubt we’ll all be alive by the end of the night, if you know what I mean.”

“Right.” The second hunter downed the rest of his drink. “I’ll be there. Where’s the rendezvous point?”

“Slip forty at south port. Come at midnight,” the first one replied. “My boat. Theirs is at fifty-two.”

You turned away, knocking back the last of your drink before setting the glass back down on the counter. Your mind reeled, and you pulled out a pocket watch to check the time. Nearly eleven. Only an hour left.

“Another drink,” you called, but you stopped after that one. Logically, you knew the Straw Hat crew would be able to handle themselves. Your father wouldn’t have let Zoro go had he not been an impressive fighter—and Luffy certainly had to have some tricks up his sleeve, having such a high bounty and all. But an ambush was an ambush.

You needed to go home.

You paid your bill and slunk outside, taking the long road down to the port. You were docked in the east, but you found yourself wandering towards south port, hands shoved in your pockets and sword heavy on your back.

There was no logical reason to get involved with pirates, you tried to tell yourself. That was Dracule Mihawk’s area of expertise. That was Dracule Mihawk’s life. Not his daughter’s. You were not a pirate—there was no point in being one. Mihawk has done everything already.

You stepped onto the pier of south port, the wooden ramp trembling under your feet. They were shoddily constructed; oak on water, with pegs every few feet or so and ropes thrown casually across the walkways. It was overcrowded with boats, too—ships of every kind and size, smushed into spots not big enough for them depending on how much you paid the dock men. The moon shimmered on the surface of the East Blue. She was calm today, waves lapping at the edges of the docks, tranquil in the night.

You checked your watch again. Nearly midnight.

Dock forty moored a relatively small ship, but it was crowded with men—ten or fifteen, maybe, and you knew they’d be killing each other when the fight was through. Thirty million berry divided between so many people was barely worth it. You slunk past them, counting the numbers of the boat berths.

You knew the boat before you looked at the slip number based on appearance alone. It was large in size, a caravel sporting a gigantic goat figurehead. You stared at it, brows furrowed, jaw slack. Well, it was certainly a ship. There was a large sail boasting the ship’s jolly roger—a crudely designed skull and crossbones sporting the same straw hat their captain wore.

With a sigh, you pulled yourself onboard, careful to not make a sound as you landed on the deck. It was quiet, but you doubted the crew didn’t have at least one lookout for trouble. You tiptoed around the mast, moving towards the foredeck.

You were just about to step a foot on the staircase when a gleaming katana came to your throat.

“What are you doing here?”

Roronoa Zoro was as calm as ever as he held a blade to your jugular, posture perfectly straight, eyes tilted in your direction. You glanced down at the blade, registering the smooth metal. It was the white-handled one; upon seeing it closer, you could better register its quality. It must’ve been insanely durable, more so than his other blades considering Yoru hadn’t shattered this one in battle—one of the strongest blades in the world.

“What’s the sword’s name?” you asked.

Zoro ignored your question. “What are you doing here?” he repeated.

You sighed, turning towards him, although you were careful not to touch the sword. Zoro’s grip didn’t budge. “There are pirate hunters coming here,” you answered. “At midnight. An ambush.”

Zoro still didn’t move. The night sky cast his entire face in shadow, the only light on board being a trembling lantern by the interior doors. You could just barely see the gleam of one eye, yellow light shining on his cheekbone. “Why would you come?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” you answered coolly. “My father let you go for a reason. It’d be a shame if you died before you realized why.” It was an easy lie—because the real reason was one you didn’t want to think about. Because Luffy’s words struck something in you. Because they rang true.

“We don’t need your protection.”

You shrugged, only one shoulder moving upwards before relaxing again. “Just a friendly warning.”

Carefully, Zoro lowered his blade, the steel scraping along the edge of its scabbard opening before he slid it closed. “The Wado Ichimonji.”

Your eyes were still on the sheathed katana. “Hm?”

“The sword. Its name is Wado Ichimonji.”

You tilted your head back, angling it towards the sword strapped to your jacket. “Hiru,” you said. “That’s mine.”

“Day,” Zoro translated. “You have matching swords with your father?”

“Just matching names,” you answered. “It’s a spadroon, not a kreigsmesser. Much smaller than Yoru. Birthday present. When I was thirteen.”

Zoro eyed you. “I’ll wake the rest of the crew,” he said. “You can go.”

You made no move to, consulting your watch as Zoro rang the ship’s bell. Five minutes to midnight. You could already hear the near-noiseless patter of footsteps on the pier.

The orange-haired woman was the first out, fingers wrapped around a short wooden rod. She exchanged a look with Zoro, and he nodded towards the pier. She somehow knew exactly what he meant from that, dodging back inside the ship and returning, dragging a dark-haired man out.

“Uh, what’s going on?” the man asked, stifling a yawn as he fiddled with a slingshot. Both Zoro and the woman shushed him. “Jeez, okay.” He noticed you then. “Oh, hey, you’re the hawk dude’s kid—”

“Shut up, Usopp,” the woman snapped. She’d moved by the boat’s side, ducked under the rim. The footsteps were getting louder.

The blond man came out next, hands shoved casually in his pockets and dressed in clothes you genuinely did not think functioned as sleepwear. “Hunters,” the orange-haired woman said. “Ambush.”

“Isn’t that lovely,” the blond man murmured. He caught your eye, and a smile lit up his face. “Well, hello there.”

Both Zoro and the woman rolled their eyes. Before the blond could say anything more, though, the hunters’ footsteps abruptly stopped.

The orange-haired woman spun up from her crouch, wooden stick extending into a long staff as she whipped it out. She slammed one end of the staff into an incoming hunter’s gut as he leapt aboard the ship, forcing him off the side of the vessel.

Everything happened all at once, then—you heard the slick shing! of Zoro unsheathing his katana, and the blond was up and running towards another gaggle of hunters within the second, legs flying in an assortment of well-placed kicks.

You reached over your shoulder, tugging Hiru out of its straps. The blade shone bright under the moonlight, and you caught an incoming hunter’s sword with the lick of it, shoving him backwards as you spun.

“Why’s Mihawk’s girl here?” the blond called, as he slid across the deck, leg raising up into a spinning hook. “Not that I’m complaining, of course. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He met your eyes and winked, leaving you staring in utter disbelief until another hunter distracted you. “I’m Sanji!”

“Okay?” you asked blankly, letting out a huff of exertion as you whipped your sword toward the hunter. He’d pulled out one of his guns, wielding his blade one-handed as he fumbled with the trigger. You breathed in, recalling your father’s words from the thousands of hours spent training. Take advantage of any imbalances, sweetheart. Focus on the center of gravity.

You aimed a sliding kick at the man’s gun, using Hiru to push against his blade. The pressure caused him to fling halfway across the ship, body thudding against the mast before falling to the ground in a heap.

“Impressive,” Sanji whistled from his spot across the ship.

“Shut up,” Zoro and the orange-haired woman said in unison. Zoro was beside the fallen hunter in a second, katana slashing cleanly through his torso before he spun and shoved the blade straight into an incoming man’s stomach. Sanji just scoffed.

“Show-off,” he said accusatively. Zoro rolled his eyes, turning towards Sanji to argue, when you glimpsed someone at his back. You lunged for the man, sword cutting cleanly through his jugular before he fell across the deck, decollated.

Zoro turned, glancing over his shoulder at the body and then up at you. “You’re welcome,” you said, flicking Hiru to the side. Spatters of blood dripped off its blade.

“...Right.” The number of hunters had considerably thinned, only three or four left. The orange-haired woman was still fighting two of them, placing hits of her bo staff along two mens’ skulls. Usopp had crouched by the forecastle, firing pellets off with his slingshot. Sanji dusted off the final two men, until only the ringleader was left.

“Wait, wait.” The hunter backed away until he ran into the ship’s railing. He scrambled for his pistol, but as Zoro, Sanji, and the orange-haired woman advanced on him, apparently realized the idea was in vain. “We—we can talk about this.”

“I don’t think we can.” You turned at the new voice, watching as Luffy slipped out from the captain’s chambers. His hand came up to adjust his hat, crowned atop his head as always. “You came aboard my ship and tried to hurt my friends.”

The hunter’s jaw fell slack, mouth drying over as Luffy came to stand in front of him. The rest of the crew had parted to allow him space, and Luffy titled his head up, the lick of light from the lantern shining against his skin. A crescent-shaped scar under his eye glowed bright, the skin paler than the rest of his face.

“Gum gum…” he started, voice steadily rising in volume as he extended his hand backwards, fingers curled into a fist. To your surprise, his arm just kept stretching back, limb getting longer and longer with a distinctly rubbery stretch until it was all the way at the other side of the ship. “Pistol!”

His arm snapped back all in one, knocking the hunter straight in the jaw and shoving him off the ship in one, devastating blow. You stared at his flailing body, watching as he dropped straight into the ocean ten or so meters away with a loud plop.

You turned towards Luffy, one brow arched in question. “You’re a Devil Fruit eater?”

“The Gum Gum fruit,” Luffy said brightly. He adjusted his hat once more, fixing it atop his head before reaching an arm out to pat you on the shoulder. “Thank you for warning us. You’re a good person.”

“Don’t mention it.” You glanced down at Hiru. “Have anything I can clean my blade with?”

“Sure! Let Sanji cook you something while you’re here,” Luffy said. “It’s the least we can do.”

“Of course,” Sanji said with a little bow. “What would you like? Name anything and I’ll make it.”

You eyed him. “…Anything.”

Sanji let out an exaggerated sigh. “So uninspired. Meet you in the kitchen, then. We can leave the mosshead to clean up the bodies.”

The orange-haired woman just rolled her eyes. “I’m going back to bed,” she declared. She glanced over at you, appraising you in one solid sweep up and down your body. “I’m Nami.”

With that final word, she departed, snapping closed her staff and slipping back into the boat. Luffy, Usopp, and Sanji shuffled into the boat, presumably the kitchen. Zoro just sighed, setting his katana to the side to start cleaning up the corpses left after the battle.

You made no move to follow the others inside, watching as Zoro easily lifted up one of the hunters. The lines of his biceps strained as he climbed off the ship, still hefting the body before finally placing it down on the pier.

“Just toss them into the ocean,” you called. Zoro glanced over his shoulder, registering you standing there. He picked another body up.

“I don’t want to block our slip,” he answered.

“Fair enough. Any oil around here?” You wandered to the ship’s side, glancing through the boxes fixed to the deck. Zoro gestured in some direction that harmed more than it helped, really, but you dug through some boxes before unearthing something you could clean Hiru with.

You worked in silence, slicking the blade with the oil and rubbing off all the blood and mess that had gotten onto it. Zoro was quick, piling up all the corpses and barely-alive bodies by the dock. He shoved a few of them awake with his boot. “Go find a doctor,” you heard him mutter under his breath. You suppressed a laugh.

Eventually, Zoro climbed back on board, searching for his sword only to find it in your hands. You carefully polished off the last of the blade, then presented it to him. “You’re welcome.”

“…Thanks,” Zoro said, sheathing it in one smooth swipe.

“The cut,” you said, glancing down at his torso again. His shirt was covering the bandages, but you knew they were still there. “It was Yoru that did it. Not Kogatana.”

“The big one, yeah,” Zoro answered. You watched him thoughtfully, although you didn’t say a word. He seemed to get impatient by that, and was speaking just a moment afterwards— “Why?”

You gave a quick shake of your head. “Nothing,” you answered, the lie slipping easily off your tongue. But your mind churned with thoughts, the mere brain activity making your stomach curdle. It hadn’t clicked before, but now—your father didn’t use Yoru on anyone who wasn’t worthy. And letting Zoro live—letting the entire crew go, against Garp’s orders?

This was a more interesting group than you’d anticipated.

Zoro eyed you for a moment as you were lost in thought, though he didn’t say anything to interrupt you. Once you finally looked up, he adjusted, clearing his throat. “Should go inside to make sure the waiter isn’t burning down the kitchen,” he said, straightening.

You stood up, sliding Hiru into its scabbard on your back. “The… waiter?”

Zoro shook his head. “Long story.” He gestured with his head, nodding towards the double doors. “Kitchen.”

You followed him, the soft aroma of garlic and meat wafting around the room the instant you stepped foot inside. Everyone was crowded around the kitchen island, propped on chairs and staring as Sanji prepared a meal before them. You joined the group, glancing over Usopp’s shoulder to watch.

There was a stir-fry on the stove, garlic and onions joined by various other vegetables. Sanji drizzled soy sauce along the pan, scraping it around once with his spatula before turning down the heat. He added in some rice—leftover, it looked—along with some battered eggs, mixing it all together.

“Vegetable and chicken fried rice,” Sanji said, turning off the heat once everything had cooked through and starting to distribute it into servings. “I went for something universal because I don’t know what you like.” He met your eyes, flashing a giant, warm smile again. You took the bowl he offered, fingers wrapping around the warm ceramic.

“Thank you,” you said. The four of you stood in silence, and you had the feeling that you were intruding. The crew was a tight unit, that much was certain—wound tightly around each other, ropes intersecting in delicate knots and bows. You turned your attention to your meal. You hadn’t had a real supper, so the food was a welcome surprise, and it was damn near close to the best thing you’d ever tasted.

“So,” Luffy started, “Not to bug you about it a hundred times, but…” You glanced up. His expression was earnest as he met your eyes, lips tugged upwards in an encouraging smile even as he spoke. “Are you joining us?”

“Am I—? Oh,” you said, realizing what it was Luffy was referring to. “Is the offer still standing?”

“Always,” he answered brightly. “You’d be a good fit for our crew, you know.”

Would you really? There wasn’t much of anything special about you besides your parentage. You were as skilled a swordswoman as any, but there were hundreds better and stronger than you. There was no one thing you truly excelled at. “I’ll think about it,” you said hesitantly.

“Well, think quick. We leave at dawn,” Luffy said. “Meet us back here at blue hour if you’d like to join up.” He smiled again, all unassuming, and it was hard to believe a boy so pleasant had a thirty million berry bounty hanging suspended over his head. He yawned, stretching out his long limbs. “Well, I’m off to sleep. Sanji’s next watch.” He glanced over at Zoro. “Why don’t you walk her back to her slip, Zoro?”

Your brows furrowed, about to object, but Zoro was already standing up. He opted to say nothing, leaving you to set down your empty bowl and say your goodbyes in a hurry to follow him out.

The bodies on the pier had thinned, the alive ones presumably having dragged themselves to town to find a doctor. Zoro stepped over the heap of corpses, and you followed suit, walking in silence down south port. “I’m a little far,” you said. “You might lose your way heading back.”

“I’ll be fine,” Zoro dismissed. “I’m… sorry about Luffy. He can get overly enthusiastic.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” you said with a shake of your head. “Are the rest of the crew open to me joining, though? It didn’t seem like he consulted any of you.”

Zoro’s brows lifted at that, though you weren’t certain why. “We’re all fine with it,” he said eventually. “Luffy wouldn’t invite someone who wouldn’t fit.” He hesitated, the plod of your footsteps creaking against the dock walkway for a few paces before he parted his lips again. “I’m going to fight Mihawk again, you know.”

“I figured,” you answered. You could feel Zoro’s eyes on you, scraping along your skin like they were blades themselves.

“You’re not upset by that?”

“Everyone wants to kill him for some reason or another,” you said. “You’re not the first.” Though there was something undeniably special about him. The fact he was still alive, for one. “I figure you’re a long way from that, so I’ll have a father for a few years more until you try to kill him again.”

There was something in the way you phrased your words that sounded so very ironic, and Zoro couldn’t suppress the light grunt from escaping his lips. It was dry, brittle—but closer to a laugh than a scoff, you could tell. “Is that your blessing?”

“Sure,” you said. “I, Dracule Mihawk’s daughter, hereby allow you, Roronoa Zoro, to murder my father in a duel.” The lightness in your tone dropped. “If you don’t mind me asking…” you took in a light breath, letting the taste of the words melt on your tongue before slipping them out. “Why do you want to, anyway? Defeat him, I mean?”

“I made a promise to someone a long time ago,” Zoro answered. His footsteps slowed as you reached your slip, the small sloop you’d sailed all the way to Loguetown calm as ever where it was moored. The black sails—vague, nondescript—sucked away all the light the moon attempted to cast on it, so it was even darker than the rest of the surroundings. “I told her I would become the world’s greatest swordsman.”

“That’s heavy,” you remarked, turning to face your companion. His skin was waxy and dull under the moonlight—aftereffects of the injury he still hadn’t fully recovered from. Zoro just shrugged.

“Maybe. It’s my life’s dream.”

“He’s a good father,” you said. “I think he’d like you.” You paused. “Well, he does. He wouldn’t have let you live if he didn’t.”

Zoro stiffened, the lines of his body tightening, spine pulling up just slightly. You noticed the change—you always did. Observation had always been one of your biggest strengths. Maybe you hadn’t gotten the golden irises your father had, but you had hawk eyes of your own in that way. Never missing a thing, picking out all flaws and details in a scene. “I’m not sure if I want him to like me.”

“He doesn’t feel hatred for a lot of people,” you said. “Just disdain. Though I’m fairly certain he’d have skewered that drunk at the bar earlier if he’d been with me.”

“The one who—” Zoro looked distinctly uncomfortable as he remembered what the pirate had offered you. He made a vague gesture instead, just mildly vulgar in motion. You suppressed a laugh.

“Exactly,” you agreed. “He doesn’t have patience for that sort of thing. He also feels no man who’s weaker than me in combat isn’t man enough to be with me, though I have questions about that particular rule.”

Zoro snorted. “You could definitely do better than the drunk pirate.”

“Right.” You glanced up at the moon, watching the steady silver glow of her face along the edge of the horizon. She was full, round and white, soft powder creasing the dents and shadows of her face. “I’m out for the night, then. Thank you for walking me.”

Zoro shrugged. He didn’t say anything, so you turned away, stepping onto your sloop without another word. You ducked into the interior room, closing the door firmly behind you so you could finally relax.

You had only a handful of hours of rest ahead of you, after all.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

i'll be making a taglist for this series; just comment if you'd like to be added!

#opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro #opla #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #reader insert #x reader #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece live action x you #one piece live action x reader #opla fanfic #opla fanfiction #dracule mihawk #opla zoro x reader #kiki writes!

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cosmicsully · 8 months

Text

OBSESSED WITH YOU

aged up!Neteyamx aged up!human(f)!reader

Summary: In which…. Neteyam crosses paths with a human, but what is that sudden obsession with her, where did that need to protect her come from?

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: fluff, Y/N’s personal space is quite literally violated by Neteyam, Y/N is the first Human Neteyam has ever seen, Neteyam barely speaks/understands English, kissing, slight make out, lowkey unrealistic storyline lmao

My Masterlist <3.

What are you called? = fyape syaw fko ngar Stay calm = mawey beautiful: (of people) = sevin take it off = kämunge tsal I want to see = Oe new ne kame hurry up = win säpi nefä so soft = nìftxan 'ango

I hope you enjoy! If you do, feel free to reblog, I might consider writing more parts to this :) <3

I can still remember how it happened. The day that I met Neteyam still lingers in my mind, the young Na´vi boy consuming my attention at all times.

About a week ago, I can still feel the soft breeze of air flushing against my legs, I remember smelling the green plants that had just been drowned in the heavy rain the previous night. The loving light of the warm sun embraces my figure as I walk across a muddy path, trying not to step on any kind of animal. I was outside although I was not allowed to leave the lab. Secretly slipping out of the back door, the mask that is pumping oxygen into my lungs well secured on my face, as I made it my new goal to explore Pandora further.

It is a memory I cherish. The adrenaline that runs through my veins as I took one step after the other, putting as much space as possible between me and the lab.

With the feeling of well-secured safety and no one having caught me fleeing from my home, I slowed my steps, taking in my beautiful surroundings. All kinds of exotic colorful plants surround my form, my eyes darting to one and then another, trying to see everything all at once. My ragged breathing slowed down as I sprinted across the mud, my feet now slightly covered in it.

I can’t help but feel joy consume me whole.

The beauty of Pandora yet again swallowed me, pulling me in. I let my feet work on their own, deciding on taking a small walk to find new interesting and unexplored corners. My fingertips glide against a pulsating bluish plant, as it vibrates against my hand in return, letting myself smile at the uncommon feeling.

This world is so alive.

It is beautiful, I hope its owners treat it well, with respect and cherish it just as I do. Although from the stories I have been told, Na’vi are very spiritual species who inhabit these forests. And now that I think of it, I have never truly seen a real Na’vi.

Dreamwalkers don’t count.

Not letting my mind linger on the thought of facing a real Na’vi, I continued my exploration, It felt like mere minutes, but because it was slowly becoming darker around me it must have been at least a few hours. The only sound that reaches my ears is my breathing from behind the thin glass that is covering my entire face, and the nature that I’m currently moving in. Deciding that I have seen enough for today and that Norm is most likely worrying about my well-being, I take a turn and walk to the path I have been walking all along and slowly but surely make my way back to the lab.

Just as I took a few steps, I heard a quiet huff and leaves moving behind a tree a few feet away from me.

Midway through me turning my head, a blue figure emerges from the bushes. There he stands. A tall male Na’vi. His stripes-covered skin glows underneath the small amount of light that is still falling on Pandora.

He is beautiful.

So beautiful the nature around me is no longer on my mind. All my focus and attention is now drawn to him as I see his fist tightening around a weapon that is firm in his right hand.

With quick movements, he is pointing an arrow at me.

“Wait- Wait- Wait-“ I start as his face wears an angry expression, his frown-covered face facing my direction. I can see his ears perk up at the words that left my mouth. The foreign language fills his head as he decides on killing or spearing me.

“fyape syaw fko ngar?” he hisses, flashing his fangs at me. His white teeth sparkle in the sun as he takes a big step closer to me. His sudden movement made me trip over, my backside making contact with the now slightly dried ground. Him now towering over me even more, his height is scary.

“I- I’m sorry I don’t understand you, please talk slower,” I say, trying to speak slowly, he probably doesn’t understand my words. He tilts his head in confusion, his eyes widening as he takes in my form. Here I am, halfway sitting up in the slightly muddy forest of Pandora. My eyes are fixated on the Na’vi that is towering above me.

“fyape. syaw. fko. ngar?” he repeats, now trying to talk as slow as I did. His pronunciation is now much clearer, his eyes squinting close as if he can see the wheels whirring behind my eyes. This situation throws me back multiple years, remembering the Na’vi lessons we were put through at the mere age of ten. He must have said something about me. Asking about my age? No that would not add up to the situation I’m currently in. Maybe he asked what my name is. That makes way more sense, him emerging from the forest, probably taking me in as a threat.

Slowly, I raise my hands on either side of my head a little, to show that I have no weapons on me, and don’t mean any harm to anyone. At my gesture his ears stand up, their previous position flattened against his head long gone. While doing so, his curiosity must have grown, he lowers his weapon, no meaning to harm me for now. The unknown Na’vi male lowers himself into a crouching position, as he fixates his bow on his back and secures the arrow back in its holder. With me still staying put on the ground, he starts to crawl over my much smaller form to take in my face.

His expression is still confused, but the curiosity must be getting a hold of him. He slowly makes his way above me, his face getting closer to mine, I can feel his warm breath hitting my cheek, his sparkly yellow eyes boring into my own. Pupils now grown bigger and bigger with each second that passes.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, my questioning tone must have shown him that I asked a question. He shakes his head in a way to tell me that he has no idea what I just said, but he doesn’t leave his current position, instead, he’s only inching closer to my body. His face slowly moved to the left side of my face, flattened nose touching my cheek and slowly moving down to my neck. His way of moving and actions remind me of an animal, I can feel him take a deep breath through his nose when it hits my pulse point. It’s like he’s taking in my scent, trying to burn it into his brain to never lose the smell of me.

His actions makes a shudder run down my spine, a shaky breath leaving my mouth only now realizing that I have been holding my lungs oxygen-free for the past minute, them now aching and burning for more.

He breathes me in again, this time with eyes closed, my scent filling his nostrils. My breathing stays unsteady, his presence making my heart quicken in my chest, he seems to notice that, his eyes now fixated on my chest, watching it rise and fall again. When my eyes caught his never leaving my chest, a frown forms on my face, my mouth gaping at him and my arms moving to cover my chest. Slightly uncomfortable under his stare that is on one of my most intimate parts.

He quickly shakes his head and uses one of his three-fingered hands -that is at least twice as big as mine- to move them away, his now gained free access to my chest making him move his head closer, the side of his face making contact with me, his ear hovering above my heart. My heartbeat echoes in his head, its beating pumping hot blood through my veins. Although he does not seem to have the intention to hurt me in any way, my heart doesn’t slow its fast beats. His heavy head makes contact with my chest, I can feel him resting his head completely.

He stays put for a few seconds, the sound of soft breaths leaving his nose hit my ears. My heart still hammers in my chest, continuing to reveal my unsure feelings about the moment and this stranger who is quite literally breaking the definition of personal space. He stirrers up removing his ear from my chest, now much softer yellow eyes meeting mine.

“Mawey.” he whispers. His soothing voice makes it seem like a sweet gesture, the way he talks, the way his eyes move from me to my chest, no, to my heart, its like he wants to tell me to relax. The next thing that catches his attention is the oxygen mask that covers my slightly blushing face. With one of his fingers he taps against the glass, the tap rather harsh as it shoots through the glass and right to my ears echoing softly.

"Neteyam." he speaks up, the pronunciation lingering in my mind. As he speaks, he points the finger that just tapped my mask to his chest, gesturing to himself, it seems to be his way of introducing himself to me.

"Y/N." I say telling him my name. His ears perk up as my voice hits him.

"Y/N…" he tries to pronounce my name just like I did, but fails miserably. I can´t help myself but let a giggle slip past my lips at his terrible attempt at pronouncing my name, squinting my eyes closed in the process. He doesn´t exactly laugh at my reaction, but what seems to be a small smile makes its way across Neteyams face. I like the way my name sounds when he speaks.

"Sevin." he whispers pointing at me again. His hand glides downwards to my own and he takes a look at it, his eyes fixated on my little finger. He slowly but surely wraps two of his fingers around it, completely engulfing my pinky with his. His hand is huge compared to mine. If he wanted to, he could cover my entire hand with his and nothing of my hand would be visible.

"Sevin?" I ask, questioning his last words, why did I barely pay attention when we were told simple words that are commonly used by Na´vi?

"Beautiful?" he now repeats, his accent thick as he tries to translate his words.

"You mean me?" I ask a little unsure, it is not unknown in the lab that Na´vi and humans don´t usually interact with one another, let alone find any interest in each other. He points his finger against my chest again, still trying to get me to understand that he thinks I´m pretty.

I can´t help but blush at his actions, not quite used to being complimented by someone.

"You´re beautiful too" I answer, already aware of the fact that he probably doesn´t understand what I just told him. So I point my finger at his chest just like he did to me and say

"Sevin."

His eyes fall to my pointer finger that is currently resting against his chest, his hands now following his eyes, a blue hand yet again engulfing my own. I feel a certain warmth spread through my chest.

Am I supposed to feel like this?

Probably not.

No, definitely not.

Then why does his presence feel so good? Why do I feel this special security with him? When his warm eyes meet mine?

His attention is now back on my face, the way he is now directly in front of me, allows me to take a closer look at his facial features. His yellow, big, cat-like eyes are pulsating with warmth and softness, his slightly flattened nose wrinkling when he senses new smell. He seems to be studying me just as I do him.

"kämunge tsal" he whispers, now again tapping against my oxygen mask.

Although I could not exactly translate his spoken words in my head, it must have been something about my mask. I shake my head hastily, if his intentions are about me taking it off he can forget it.

"Oe new ne kame" he urges me on, his eyes filled with curiosity and desperate pleading.

"Off," he says quickly his demanding tone fitting to his accent, his hand already finding the bottom of the mask and lifting it off of my face. His sudden actions make me gasp and quickly breathe in, to catch another wave of oxygen.

The mask is now all the way off, Neteyam places it on one of his muscular tights, but his vibrant eyes are darting across every moving muscle on my face. He studies me carefully as if he is afraid of breaking me with a grip that might be too firm for my body.

His left-hand moves to the right side of my head, the warm palm of his softly meeting me. His palm swallows half of my skull, it’s like a puzzle fitting, his piece connecting with mine. A few seconds later I have a sort of ticklish feeling against my upper thigh, his strong tail curling twice around it. The movement makes me blush, I feel my cheeks and half of my neck warming. It’s like Neteyam is trying to be as close as possible, though I can not really tell why.

His face inches closer to mine, he’s so close again that I can feel his breath on my lips, his eyes dare to look at them for a quick moment but just as he meets them he averts his gaze again. I can’t help it but copy his movement, my eyes darting down to his lips.

I can feel the atmosphere between us get turned upside down within one quick glance at his lips, a sort of tension building up.

What I’m doing here is insane.

I should be home by now.

Just as I can feel him getting even closer, the need for oxygen is growing and growing, my lungs aching for relief. My eyes shoot down to his leg hastily grabbing the mask that my body so desperately seeks. The moment it hits my face I take a deep breath, my heart beating at a quickening speed. Neteyam groans in response his hand falling from my head, instead both of his hands land on either side of my waist. As I try to steady my breathing, he pulls my smaller form into his lap.

"win säpi nefä" he lowly whines, making my eyebrows raise in confusion at his whining. He waits a few seconds for my chest to raise at a normal speed again, his eyes boring through mine as if he is asking for permission, although I can not quite tell for what.

"Enough" he orders now quite needy ripping the mask off my face, but before I can respond in annoyance, warm lips are pressed against my very own. My eyes widen at his sudden actions, I can`t hold back the quiet unexpected sigh that sounds like a soft moan leaving my lips.

Neteyam responds eagerly, his tongue now parting my lips ready to claim my mouth, the taste of me lingering on his tastebuds, he pulls me closer by my hips, the close proximity making him groan. The kiss quickly becomes feverish and passionate as his desire for more keeps growing. His hand moves to the back of my head keeping me in place to continue his almost assault on my lips. His rough palms skim down my waist to hook around my hips, pulling me flush against his chest.

It is something I have never felt before, the adrenaline coursing through my veins making my head dizzy. Or maybe it was the lack of oxygen that was making me feel lightheaded.

I can´t help but try to pull away from him, his much stronger grip on me only tightening in response, in order to gain focus again I let my fingers tangle into his braids, softly tugging his lips away from mine. Neteyam growls in protest, chasing my lips with his but I lean back and reach down to put the mask that dangles down my body back on my face. As I keep filling my lungs with air, I look up through the thing glass with heavy-lidded eyes, my chest still heaving and my heart thrumming in my chest.

Neteyam pants softly, just as breathless as I am.

Behind Neteyam I can see his tail swaying with excitement from side to side, his own heavy eyes now focused on a part of my neck. He quickly connects his lips with my neck, softly coating it with open-mouth kisses. With his other hand, he gently tugs on my hair to expose my neck to his mouth. Not caring about the noises that could slip out of my mouth, I let a soft moan leave my lips at the feeling. That seems to urge him on further, his lips traveling from my neck, to my collarbone and lastly to my pulse point. It is the place he breathed me in earlier, he growls at the memory, lips quickly working at sucking on my delicate skin.

I close my eyes at the feeling of his soft but rough lips as they work against my sensitive skin, my mouth slightly agape at the pleasure that is shooting through every inch of my body.

"nìftxan 'ango" the Na´vi male moans against my neck, at the sound of a twig breaking somewhere in the distance, Neteyam quickly breaks away from my sensitive skin. His tail tightened around my thigh in a protective manner.

"Come" he hushes at me, now raising to his feet and full height, With one swift movement he claims my wrist in his hand sneaking around it in a soft grip. He pulls me up in no time as if I weigh nothing to him. I can feel myself hovering over the ground for a split second before he lets go of my wrist now fully placing me back on the ground I was laying on only minutes ago.

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #avatar #neytiri #avatar twow #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x human reader #loak sully #cosmicsully #fanfiction #imagines #avatar x reader #jake sully

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carionto · 8 months

Text

We'll do it our way

Been reading a bunch of Humans are Space Orcs and the like, and got me thinking - what if when aliens found humanity and our level of technology and method of propulsion for space travel, they decided that since explosions are way too hazardous and risky, that they're just not gonna let us leave on our vessels (via BS alien magic space tech). As a sort of intergalactic rite of passing (and poor results in the past of elevating a species like that), we have to figure out on our own how to not blow ourselves up once in space. But humans can be spiteful. We "have" to go in a direction they want? Fuck that. Aliens put a dome around Earth so we can't leave? Okay, that's a clear and practical problem to solve. Let's fix that instead!

_____________________________________

It had been just over sixty local cycles since First Contact with Humanity, and exactly sixty since the Federation had unanimously deemed it necessary to position a Responsibility Barrier around Earth.

Through countless observation relays, mass field generators, warp inhibitors (and the less spoken of and even less used laser batteries), any vessel - outside of local communication satellites, unmanned research vessels, or suborbital test vehicles - were prevented from leaving the planet.

Upon discovering Humanity, the Exploratory Commission Fleet quickly discovered a very hardy, innovative, diverse, violent, and adaptable advanced civilization on the cusp of entering the interstellar stage. There was one problem. Humans used explosions. For. Everything.

Their orbital spaces were already littered with micro-debris from their regular ventures into the local system. Practically every type of propulsion utilized highly volatile solutions, and they didn't even pretend to hide or be embarrassed by their history of weaponizing, well, anything and everything to be frank.

Wars and violence were common among nearly all sentient species, but there was something… peculiar, about how nonchalant the Human diplomats were about their supposed "solutions" to "tragedies" of the past.

We explained to them the dangers of their methods, showed examples of what happens when such line of thinking, without discarding these explosive ways, leads to - impassable fields of junk around once well traveled planets, now isolated; hastily jettisoned parts causing mayhem and destruction years down the line; entire Habitation Stations and their occupants reduced to faint rings around their homeworld from an "unplanned ignition"

We explained why we could not simply give them our safe technology, as they have to on their own give up the irresponsible ways first, lest they turned what was once safe into yet another means to an end. They "said" they understood, but it was all too clear the Humans would not follow our advice just like that. Hence the Barrier. This really angered the Humans.

They said it was stifling, that it was barbaric to "imprison" them like that. We tried to explained again why, but they would not listen, but we knew better. This had happened before and we would not allow it to happen again. It was for the greater good of both the Humans and the rest of the Galaxy.

For nearly sixty of their cycles, Humanity continued to advance and develop and flourish. We watched them with excitement at every new avenue of research they steered towards, silently encouraged them to keep going with every failure. They were getting close in several fields, we could see that Humanity was on the precipice of the right track. Then, one day, with a slight shimmer enveloping the planet and an eerie silence on all frequencies, the Earth just… vanished.

The Humans kept their true activity a secret, only after careful analysis of seemingly unrelated and unremarkable records did we figure out they were investigating a long abandoned line of research by all others in the galaxy - interdimensional travel. But there were no other traversable dimensions. That had long been tested by everyone - you can twist and bend and cut through the ones we have, but you are always bound to at least one of them.

It remained a mystery as to what truly happened to Humanity. Officially it was called a tragic scientific accident on an unprecedented scale. Earth and Humanity were memorialized as a bright species with infinite potential, but a recklessness that would serve as one of the starkest examples in the annals of Galactic history.

Until, nearly a millennia later, Earth just… popped back in. Right where it would have been had it continued to orbit around their star, almost as if that's exactly what it had been doing.

There was only a memorial station close to its original orbit, and some small research outposts dotted around the local system - it was decided to not terraform or colonize any of Sol's planets or install major stations within the system, as both a sign of respect to the deceased and a warning to all about the dangers of foolish science.

By the time the scrambled and panicked messages reached the nearest Coalition world and a small squad sent to investigate, everything had changed. Not only did they find Earth and Humanity, they were met by dozens of the largest space worthy vessels anyone had ever conceived of let alone dared to construct; orbital shipyards that each would put the production capacity of whole planetary SYSTEMS to shame; and a defiant attitude unmatched even by the previously thought exaggerated tales of our brief history with Humanity before the Vanishing.

The message we received from the Humans was simple:

"Thanks for the advice, but we do things our way. Now, let's start over, from an equal footing, shall we?"

(more while we were gone)

#humans are space orcs #humanity fuck yeah #humans are deathworlders #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #carionto #story

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fleurriee · 1 year

Text

— change in plans ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!reader

synopsis ; you and neteyam had been mates for a short while now. when you start to feel ill, suspicion starts to cleave your mind, and you can’t help but worry about your mates reaction.

word count ; 2.4k

themes ; fluff, slight angst, established relationship (mates)

warnings ; mentions of being sick, worrying thoughts of not being a good enough mate, use of y/n

author’s note ; starting a dad!neteyam series bc this man is all i want in life and he’d be the perfect dad if he was only given the chance :(( screw u, james. lol this was originally going to be a drabble series but when i checked the wc for this & saw over 2k, i just thought fuck it. so, this series is gonna have a different wc every time 🤙🏻

next part

dad!neteyam series masterlist main masterlist request a fic!

Groggily opening your eyes, attempting to blink away the sleep that was still lingering there, you take a deep breath in, grumbling noiselessly to yourself. Fresh air and morning sunlight filtered in through the gaps until they surrounded your sleepy figure. You feel around on the bed next to you for the familiar presence that has been a comfort to you for around several months now. When your hands only come in contact with the bed mat beneath you, you turn your head in the same direction, heart sinking at the emptiness of the space.

You knew Neteyam was important to your clan — he was next in line for Olo’eykyan, after all — but sometimes you wished he wasn’t. Without the title weighing down heavily on his shoulders, you’d be able to spend a lot more time together, planning out your days and getting ready for your future. Instead, you awoke more often than not alone, your homely tent slowly start to turn isolated and desolate.

Of course, you’d never tell your mate of your thoughts — Neteyam was already guilt-ridden enough whenever he eventually made his way back into your arms after such a long and strenuous day, apologising profusely for not having spent enough time with you. In those times, you do nothing but comfort him, reassure him that you’re okay and that you understand.

But, that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard.

Stretching out your limbs to get some life back into them, you slowly start to climb up off the mat, looking around your hut for some breakfast. Your tent that you shared with your loving mate was a place you treasured deeply, one you considered to be your very own safe-haven. Not too long after your official mating with Neteyam, he had secretly been sneaking off whenever he had the spare time — which, admittedly, wasn't that often — to built a home for the two of you. Initially, you hadn't really thought of his disappearances that much, but when he started sending you sneaky glances out the corner of his eye, subtle smiles directed only at you, you began to get your suspicions.

He had taken you away from his family, covering your eyes and carefully walking you in a random direction, before revealing the surprise. Your heart had melted into a pool of warmth, surrounding you completely and utterly. You were a blubbering mess — whilst this was something you knew would be happening soon for the two of you, you were never expecting it to feel such a way for you.

It felt official.

Now, your home was filled to the brim with memories and personal memorabilia. Beads and feathers you had collected all your life that represented a different moment in your relationship; personalised weapons and clothes that you had made for one another during your courting ceremony, and one corner that smelt entirely of the two of you from where you sleep, where you come together as one soul each night and show one another how much your love means.

In another corner of the tent lies two baskets — one filled with fruit, and the other filled with meat. When you’d first mated with Neteyam, he had insisted on collecting all the foods the two of you would need for your home. You had found the offer loving, your heart fluttering in your chest as his desire to provide for you, but declined. You were to be mates, which meant you wanted to provide for him, too. So, after several long discussions, you’d compromised that Neteyam would hunt the meat, and you would forage the fruit.

It was a routine that worked quite well, taking note of the good amount of the ratio as you looked down in the baskets. Giving yourself a moment to contemplate what you wished to eat on that particular morning, moments away from reaching down and grabbing to your heart’s desire, a funny feeling started to tingle in your stomach.

Taking in another deep breath, you told yourself that it was nothing, that it would disappear, but it only seemed to grow worse. With one hand on your stomach, the other covering your mouth, you rushed over to the entrance of your tent, opening the flap and spewing up last night’s meal into the empty bucket outside.

You took a moment to breath afterwards, catching your breath and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You looked around at the clan surrounding you, wondering if anyone had taken notice of you — as far as you were aware, no one had. So, walking back inside your tent, you went over to the fresh water yourself and Neteyam kept stocked and washed your hands.

Looking back over at the basket of fruits and meats, you decided you’d skip that morning’s breakfast.

“And then what happened?”

You were out in the lush forests of Pandora, taking a walk with Kiri as she used even her spare to time to prepare for her healing work with her grandmother. The two of you walked side by side, the day’s sun basking down its warmth on your retreating figures.

When you’d originally met up with Kiri earlier that morning, you had expected her to be her usual self — bright and excited to explore more of what Ewya offered her children. Instead, you had been met with a much angrier version of your sister-in-law.

Before you’d even started walking together, she was reciting her own morning back to you. Apparently, Lo’ak had believed it to be funny to scare Kiri whilst her back was turned away from him, causing the paste she was making to jump out of her hands and become ruined.

You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle out her crazy morning antics.

“And, then,” Kiri started, grumbling at her situation as she bent down to pluck a small part of a plant away, placing it delicately into her pouch, “father grounded me.”

You turn your head towards her, furrowed eyes on display, showing off your confusion. “What? Why?”

As Kiri stood back up, her anger dissipated and a smirk played on her lips. “Because I punched him in the face.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that completely tumbled from your mouth, loud and clear as any other creature within the forests. Grabbing at your stomach in an attempt to cease the laughing, your sister beside you only making your enthusiasm worse by joining in and exclaiming that he had it coming!, you felt elated, until your happiness turned into queasiness.

There was a split second where you knew what was going to happen before it actually did, but you weren’t given enough time to react. Your only option was to bend low, throwing up once again, although this time you had no idea where the contents had come from, considering you hadn’t eaten since last night and had already thrown up earlier that morning.

Coughing and clutching at your stomach, you felt Kiri’s gentle hand against your back, smoothly rubbing your skin to calm you down. Once you felt that was everything, you stood back up straighter, head groggy and eyes glazed over — you had never felt more worse in your life.

“Oh, y/n, you look terrible!” she chastised you, her eyes moving fervently over your figure, shaking her head in disbelief that you had gone from one emotion to another so drastically. “Is this the first time it’s happened?”

Breathing deeply, you shake your head. “No,” you swallow, pulling a disgusted face at the taste lingering in your mouth, before running a hand over your face from the exhaustion of it all. “It happened this morning, too.”

“And, you haven’t been to see grandmother?” Kiri’s voice was slowly beginning to raise, her obvious annoyance at your stubbornness beginning to effect her clearly. “Come, I will take you to her now.”

Immediately, you tried to refuse. “No, Kiri, I’m fine—“

But, your sister was relentless, adamant. “I’m not taking no for an answer, not when you could be ill.”

As she starts to pull you arm back in the direction of home, you look back over your shoulder at where you had reluctantly left the mark of your presence. “But, what about—“

“I will clean it up later. Come.”

From the moment you had arrived in the Tsahik’s tent, skin becoming clammy, sweat beading along your forehead and dry heaving into your hand, you were sure she knew what was wrong with you.

The woman who was like your own grandmother had gestured you closer to her awaiting figure, moving forwards and leaving Kiri hovering worriedly by the entrance to the tent. Mo’at gently grabbed your chin, looking so intently at you, all you wanted was to cower away, but you stood your ground, knowing the woman would only get annoyed.

When she was satisfied with what she saw, she gently grasped at your arms, guiding you down onto the floor in front of her. You started to feel just slightly better when you were no longer standing, swaying and feeling like you were going to fall any second. Mo’at moved back over to her shelves that held an assortment of healing herbs and ailments for those in need, coming back to you. She moved behind you, prodded at your back gently and pressing her ears against your spine, before moving back around and doing the same to your stomach.

You looked over at Kiri worriedly, hoping to find some sort of semblance hidden within her gaze, but her expression only mirrored your own. She, too, had no idea what was wrong with you — she was only training to be like her grandmother, and she clearly hadn’t gotten to this part of her lessons just yet.

“You are pregnant, my child.”

Your head snapped in her direction, not fast enough, those particular words reverberating within your mind, bouncing from one corner of the walls to another until you were sure you hadn’t imagined what the woman in front of you had said. You could feel your ears subconsciously fall against your head, your tail solemnly wrapping around your figure protectively, although, you were unsure what you were protecting yourself from.

You were pregnant.

Tears started to form within your eyes, pleading desperately within yourself to not let them fall. Your breathing started to pick up in pace a little, too, but you will it to calm. Looking down at your stomach, you placed a gentle hand against it, like you were caressing your unborn child.

Your unborn child.

You and Neteyam had had conversations about having a family — any pair of mates would — but your plans were to wait a little longer, to live your lives as you were supposed to before delving deeper into that chapter. It was all too much — you were unsure what to think. Should you be happy that you were having your firstborn child, or should you be worried of your mates reaction, scared he’d resent you for not waiting longer like you’d originally planned?

No words left your lips, throat too parched and nerves too calculated to form a barely coherent response, but you found that you didn’t have the time to. In that moment, Neteyam burst through his grandmother’s tent, eyes wide, ears alert and tail pointed tensely in the air. Someone had clearly seen you enter the Tsahik’s tent with Kiri, looking pale and unwell.

Looking up at him, you could only feel more tears consume your eyes until your vision started to become blurry. He rushed over to you, crouching down next to you, cupping your face in his hands and inspecting every inch of your body. When he couldn’t find anything external, he began to panic, confused. “What is it, ma muntxa (my mate)?”

Your eyes trailed both of his own, looking deeply into them and seeing nothing but pure love and adoration. From next to you, you could see Mo’at and Kiri silently leave the two of you alone in the quiet of the tent, giving you the space you needed.

Hands still stroking softly against your stomach, you looked down, then back up at him, hoping he would understand what you were trying to say without you having to utter the words. His eyes followed to where your hands lay, widening in surprise, his tail beginning to flick back and forth rhythmically.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, almost inaudible. A tear falls down your cheek, cascading to the bottom of your chin.

Neteyam continues to hold your face in his hands, eyes never once leaving your own as his thumb wipes your emotions away. A breathless laugh tumbles from his lips, smile wide and unable to disappear once it’s made its presence known. “What could you possibly be sorry for?”

Despite the loving features Neteyam was bearing only to you, you couldn’t help the guilt still continuing to eat away at you. “We didn’t plan for this,” you pause licking your lips in contemplation, “we were going to wait a little longer...”

“Listen to me,” Neteyam starts, voice firm. He shuffles closer to your figure, practically pulling you on top of him, leaving your face in the palms of his hands. “Sometimes plans change, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” One of his hands leaves your face to place it lovingly against your stomach. “Especially when the change involves something like this.”

You can’t look away from, too scared that if you do, he might suddenly change his mind. So, you don’t, and he doesn’t.

Your tears are now winning over, falling onto your face tumultuously, but this time, they’re happy tears, joyful tears. You laugh along with Neteyam, disbelieving to have been so lucky with this blessing from Ewya — both being Neteyam, and your unborn child.

He brings your faces together now, foreheads touching as he rubs your noses together. “I cannot wait to start this new life together with you, ma muntxa (my mate).” You nudge against his nose out of love, causing him to chuckle at your affections. “I will protect you both with my life — and I will care for you both, always.”

Placing a gentle kiss upon your lips, you feel his hands return to the flat of your stomach — this time, his thumbs are running smoothly against the skin there. When he pulls away from your face, you lean closer, desperate for more of him, but you feel your heart ache fondly when you watch him lower himself down, pressing such a feather-like kiss to your stomach that you barely feel it.

“I love you, ma’eveng (my child).”

#��𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐑’s work ── ✎#neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x fem reader #dad neteyam series <3

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kitscutie · 5 months

Text

snow and roses: part III (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none except the nature of the Hunger Games franchise! later on in the series there will be hints to dark!coriolanus snow and lots of angst so be prepared!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: part three is finally hereee! sorry it took so long i've been dealing with some shit and doing a lot of work as life's just gotten very busy but don't worry - nothing will be left undone and trust me when i say i already have the ending for this series planned out :)

im sorry to say guys but i will have to close my taglist as the size has began to affect my posts and tumblr keeps glitching out, sorry!

word count:2k

find parts one and two in my masterlist!

After the incident the previous day between Brandy and Arachne as well as the suggestions from Coriolanus taken on board, the mentors had been allowed one hour with their tributes to discuss tactics.

It was good yet bad all at once. You wanted to give Wovey advice, a fighting chance but yet you knew no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much help you gave her, she stood no chance compared to people like Reaper and even Lucy Gray.

She was small and innocent, young.

"In spite of yesterdays - tragic events, our president has decided that the games must go on. Show everyone the Capitol is unafraid of such acts of terror, to which I and Doctor Gaul wishes you to preview the arena this afternoon - with your tributes. Later this evening, there will be a specialised television presentation of each tribute to our audience to, well get to know them. You will have an hour to discuss strategy. You may begin." Dean Casca Highbottom spoke into the echoey room, so large it was almost comical.

All of the tributes had been chained to the tables like animals and it made you sick to your stomach. You were aware they may harm you but at the same time such treatment would drive anyone to violence, it wasn't simply because they were District.

"Hi Y/N." Wovey smiled, so innocent. So naive.

"Wovey. I was thinking about how you might approach the games and I figured what might be best is to hide. You're small, an advantage that the other tributes don't have. I'm sure we can find some spaces this afternoon that might prove useful?" You suggested, not wishing to make this conversation more painful and personal than it had to be.

"Sure." She murmured, gaze positioned on the chains around her wrists.

"And if you wait until it's dark and everyone is sleeping you could go to the middle - collect whatever weapons they have left, just in case but otherwise I recommend waiting it out. If they can't find you they can't kill you." The sentence left a bitter taste in your mouth, you had never pictured yourself recommending a child to wait her death out in your life. The Capitol Academy was sold to you with visions of wealth and power, and now you has gone from student to mentor.

"I don't want to kill anyone." She frowned. She didn't even care that she could die, only fearing harming others. You felt your heart ache and yet, you could do nothing. No words would be good enough to reassure her, no actions would be able to save her. For once, you were useless.

"Wovey-" You began your sympathetic speech though Casca cut you off.

"Snow, Y/N. Let's go." He said as peacekeepers arrived to escort you to Doctor Gaul.

You rose without another word to Wovey, aware nothing you could say would be of any help at this time.

You knew it was about Coryo's proposal which you had not helped in and yet you weren't too upset about it. You didn't need the Plinth Prize nor did you need Doctor Gauls' approval and so you set out to let her know of your lack of involvement in this task.

"How is your tribute?" Coriolanus asked after minutes of silence.

"Her name is Wovey and she's fine. A little frightened but aren't we all?" You said, you were hesitant to tell him too much of Wovey's weaknesses and you didn't know why. This was Coriolanus. Your best friend of over ten years and your boyfriend of a few months and yet, you had a feeling whatever you said would be used against you.

"I suppose." He answered. You supposed his tone was meant to come off charmingly but all you felt was unease.

"This proposal. I haven't done it." You let him know, it was the least you could do before facing the psychopath known as Head Gamemaker.

"We have. I handed it in this morning." He answered with a hint of pride. Impressed with himself that he had taken initiative, helped you.

"I thought I made it clear the other day that I wanted no part in this plan to profit off of peoples lives, Coriolanus." You muttered, increasingly angry with his dedication to the Games and what they stood for.

"Well if you want to help Wovey, I suggest you don't tell Doctor Gaul that." He smiled, holding the door to her office open for you in a feign attempt at being a gentlemen.

As you walked into her office you couldn't help but feel disgusted. It was littered with mutants, clearly created to kill, all sat in glass jars on shelf upon shelf. Stacked all the way up to the ceiling.

"Mr Snow, Miss L/N. Come and see my new babies." Gaul said as she appeared at the back of the room. Where she had been hidden, you had no clue.

You did as she said, never one to disobey your superiors, climbing the snake tank alongside her.

"Is there a point to their colour?" You asked curiously. The snakes were surprisingly beautiful, chromatic as they shifted around on top of one another.

"There's a point to everything Miss L/N. Or to nothing at all, which brings me neatly to your proposal. Which one of you actually wrote it." She asked, as if to catch you out but you felt no remorse in admitting it wasn't you.

"Coriolanus, Doctor." You answer, sensing Coriolanus' hesitation in baiting you out.

"Well, how shocking. I expected more of a conflict." She replied, as though she were annoyed by your honesty as she reached into the snake tank, pulling Coriolanus' proposal out. "They're good your suggestions. I'm going to recommend my team implement as many as possible for tomorrow. Now run along you have an arena to promote, and Miss L/N I must say - I am most disappointed by your lack of involvement in these brilliant ideas."

"Well thank you, Doctor Gaul for your offer but, I thought Mr Snow had it safely under his control." You smiled politely before you both left to 'promote' but more so survey the new arena. "Wait." You said stopping Coriolanus before you got into the truck. "I don't know what has become of you Coriolanus Snow, but I want the little boy who fought to provide for his family while also caring for others back. You are turning into one of them, and I'm not going to be there to watch the world burn beneath your feet." You spat, leaving him to think as you sat in silence for the rest of the journey.

It seemed Coriolanus felt spiteful towards your words as he too ignored you up until this very moment as you walked into the arena.

You smiled reassuringly down at Wovey who looked just so scared. You were only three years older than her and yet you felt a motherly protection towards her, one you couldn't shake off.

Infront of you was Coryo and Lucy Gray. At first you pitied the girl, coming from twelve must be hard as they were food deprived and worked to the bone and yet now, as she stood holding your boyfriends hand in her beautiful rainbow dress, you loathed everything about her.

Your eyes rolled as far back as they physically could, your disgust clear to anyone looking but only one person was. Sejanus. He looked at you with pity and for once, you appreciated it. You decided he must know about you and Coriolanus and seeing as nobody else did they all whispered about him and Lucy Gray, how sweet they seemed.

You walked around alone before he appeared at your side.

"You deserve better, Y/N." Sejanus said, eyes never meeting your own as you continued to survey the arena, never even noticing his eyes stuck on his watch.

"Debatable." You chuckled, feeling a sense of self responsibility for getting with a man as dangerous as Coriolanus Snow in the first place.

"I wouldn't worry. If there's anything I've learnt about Coryo it's that he likes shiny things, new things - and she's definitely a spectacle." he chuckled to himself, it was safe to say Lucy Gray's ability to impress a crowd hadn't been missed by anyone.

"He'll grow tired eventually. I was his precious rose once." You sighed as the reality of the situation finally settled in.

You soaked in the silence for a few moments before you realised Sejanus' lack of response, turning in annoyance to see his eyes following the hand of his watch clock closely as he mouthed a countdown of the minutes.

"What are you-" You began.

"We've got to go." He said, grabbing your arm and beginning to walk towards the exit cautiously, not catching the attention of any guards.

"What do you mean? Sejanus?" You asked as he would not slow, not for anything. You looked around, seeing everyone else still stood stationary as they calmly conversed.

"Just follow me, Y/N." He said, still attempting to stay calm but you noticed his wide eyes.

You walked in silence, your heartbeat getting louder in your ear with each step until you hearing went completely silent, vision going black as both you and Sejanus were thrown to the floor in a cloud of smoke.

It took a few moments for you to be brought back to reality as you sat up, dazed hearing the yells of people around you. Once again before you could even figure out what was happening Sejanus' grabbed you, pulling you to your feet as you ran out of the door. 'Enjoy the show' now sounding muffled.

"What about Coryo?" You cried out in desperation, no matter what he put you through he was your first love and you had always pictured him to be your last.

"If we go back now, Y/N, we'll die." Sejanus replied as he continued dragging you until you reached the fresh air outside. Your charred lungs welcoming it.

As you looked back through the doorway you saw nothing, no one. Simply black smoke. You felt guilty and yet still - deep down - your heart yearned for the death of Lucy Gray.

It had been five hours now, sat around Coriolanus' bed alongside Sejanus and Tigris.

He hadn't so much as twitched and it had your heart racing with panic, if he died, you knew a part of you died with him.

Tigris comforted you as best she could in her own worry, noting how his chest continued to move up and down steadily and that the doctor only mentioned an injured arm, not that he was at risk of death.

The appearance of bright blue eyes caught everyone's attention as you rushed to be by his bed.

"Coryo." You said, a large smile on your face. You watched as his eyes flickered around in confusion, landing on you for a few moments. You don't know what you expected, a look of love? What you most definitely didn't expect was one of disgust.

"Lucy Gray, is she-" He stated, looking to Tigris for an answer.

"She's alive." Tigris responded through gritted teeth as she looked to you with sympathetic eyes. Her reply was lost to you as the ringing in your ears after the explosion returned. Your heart beating loud in your chest. You placed a hand over it, feeling it pound against your palm.

Your eyes glazed over as you walked away into a secluded corner, waving Sejanus off as he attempted to follow you.

It felt now more than ever so official, so real without a doubt. You had lost Coriolanus Snow. He no longer loved you, cared for you or even worried for you.

The cage that was his heart had opened wide, setting you free and instead capturing something new and desirable. A songbird.

TAGLIST: @savannahsteen, @shine101, @tfimherewhy, @iloveyou3000, @summerli-u, @coconut-dreamz, @serrendiipty, @zucchinimalfoy, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @-ice-heart, @aza-writes, @bellstwd, @kaitlyn2907, @wheepsworld, @sarahskywalker-amidala, @velvet-spider, @gloryekaterina, @prettyinsatiable, @bduchrnskei, @riddlerloveb0t, @girlalwaysathome, @thegoldenskies, @runningfrom2am, @riordanness, @charmed-asylum, @suvgs, @podiumprincess, @annaelise, @mywitchycat, @italiekim, @darkestbeforethedawn16, @stelleduarte, @leafydinosaur, @witheringawayagain, @clementinechatsshit, @lokidala, @notyourwildestdream, @prettyppetty, @motley-baby, @taylvvrr, @autistic-deer, @gamorxa, @jakesguitarpick, @pepperonipastas, @sbrewer21, @emma-andrea1, @nekee-lilac02, @tabea3, @im-sidney, @rosarosse, @jenifer0305, @Idontwanttobeehere, @chiyopipi, @coisas-da-dani, @sunnydays-funnydays, @italiekim, @andrew-garfield-is-bae, @rororo06, @soulessjourney, @upwritingallnight, @kierramofficial, @cellui, @xav-ie, @Stwoosevens, @LightVo1d, @lilanna34, @pinki-minki, @annaelise, @alexameliamg, @gloryekaterina, @bia-wayne-west, @hinata7346, @yunloyal, @perks-of-being-jojo, @iheartfike, @lucygreene, @utopiakys, @ennycutie, @eggmia, @malayawr18, @chess1ca, @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf, @elynswan, @siriusly-rem,

@justacaliforniandreamer, @http-ilysm, @touyasside, @camilleverreault, @maraalo, @allcheesemelts, @-ice-heart, @sunghoonsbakery, @onlyangel-444, @geeknerdanseverythinginbetween, @Chmerkovskiy-chmerkovskiy, @tfimherewhy, @loxbbg, @th3-archer, @yazmunson, @buckysmainhxe, @puppyminnnie, @winkevm, @czarinera,

#coriolanus snow x reader #the hunger games #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger game fic #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg fic #thg fanfiction

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talaok · 11 months

Note

Hello!

I was thinking about this a little too much today. I often read fics / drabbles about Pedro being all sweet and flirty or him being very confident and flirty … I just want to read a fic about him being the worst flirt ever 😅 I know he’s a flirt in his interviews , but what if he’s really bad at it when it’s time to really seduce someone. Like he messes up what he wants to say , he makes stupid jokes that don’t land.

Do you think you could write that?

summary: Pedro is a bad flirt

A/n: I'm genuinely sorry this took so long, but I had to study like a bastard just for my professor to be an asshole

"please introduce me to her"

"why don't you go there and do it yourself?"

"because I can't"

"why?"

"please"

"fine"

__ __ __

It was a relatively small party, just a few friends and some friend’s friends, nothing huge.

Vanessa, your best friend, had insisted on throwing it, encouraging you to “live a little now that that asshole isn’t in the picture anymore”.

“That asshole”, was indeed your, as of two weeks, ex-boyfriend.

Neither of them had ever been fans of each other, and thinking back at it now, that should have probably been if not red, at least some kind of colored flag.

Anyway, as always, when it was V talking you into something, you had accepted, with a few conditions of course.

Hence, the small party and your playlist playing in the background.

“Y/n, did you know that?”

right, you should have probably been listening to the conversation.

“Uh, no, it’s news to me” you topped with an awkward laugh you hoped would go unnoticed.

“that’s crazy, you learn something new every day” Ryan commented, making you wonder for a sec if perhaps you had actually missed something interesting.

Just as you turned to Claire beside you to investigate, everyone’s attention moved to Vanessa as she strolled toward you.

Not unusual, you thought, she wasn’t a woman that got unnoticed.

What you found when you turned too, however, did pique your interest.

A man walked beside her, Pedro Pascal.

He fell into the friend-of-friends category.

He was one of Vanessa’s oldest friends from back when she studied in New York. She talked about him sometimes, but you had never actually met him, which, thinking about it, why was that?

"hi there, how's it going?" V asked

"very well, Pyke here was telling us that sharks do not have bones"

There it was, mystery solved.

V raised her brows clearly unimpressed "Wow, well that's great" she patted his shoulder, as everyone made space for the pair.

Pedro still hadn't spoken, and a match of awkwardness lighted as you all came to the same realization.

"Alright then, I think I'm gonna get another drink" The shark expert spoke, and all of a sudden Claire and Ryan both got really thirsty too as they followed him to the kitchen.

A strange smile pulled at V's lips

"Anyway, Y/n, this is Pedro" she gestured "Pedro, this is Y/n"

You felt like one of those women in period dramas when their mothers introduce them to a man they think they should marry.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you" You shook his hand "V has told me about you"

"H-hi" he cleared his throat "it's very nice to meet you too"

" Pedro's here to film a movie"

"are you?" you asked, interested

"yes, I- Uhm- I am"

He looked nervous, and you had no idea why.

"Can I know which, or is it like one of those secret Marvel things?" you joked.

"Oh, no, of course" he laughed, "It's Weapons, it's like a horror movie"

"oh" you winced "Well that's lovely, but you'll have to forgive me if I'm not going to watch it. I hate horror movies"

"Oh, why?" he asked looking genuinely perplexed

"I get scared very easily, and... I'll sound like a 5-year-old, but every time I watch one I have troubles sleeping"

"oh that's fine" he laughed " I get it" he nodded "You don't look like a five-year-old at all" he blurted out, his eyes instantly widening as his brain realized what he had just said "Sound! I meant sound like a 5-year-old" he breathed "you look- you look extremely beautiful, not like-" he stopped himself before he could talk again, and just let out a small "oh god"

You shot Vanessa a glance.

"it's fine" you laughed "I got it," you reassured him, placing a hand on his bicep.

"so, since I'm not going to watch it, why don't you tell me what's about?"

His eyes found yours again, something sparking inside of them at the question.

"Oh you know, it's about guns and swords and rifles," he said with a smile.

You couldn't hide your confusion

"I'm sorry?" you asked, half-laughing

"y'know, because it's called weapons" he explained, his voice getting smaller as he realized the joke had bombed.

"Oh" you laughed, actually laughed "Of course! I'm sorry!"

"No, no don't be sorry it was a stupid joke"

"it was funny, I'm just..." You mimicked something with your hands.

"Y/n!" a shout from across the room caught your attention.

Mary was waving desperately at you, which could only mean that she had either broken another piece of furniture or wanted to do shots.

Neither of those options seemed particularly interesting, for some reason you wanted to know more about the man in front of you.

However, you also couldn't ignore one of your best friends.

"I'll be back in a second, I just need to make sure she hasn't broken another vase" you joked with a grin.

"o-ok" he nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed harshly.

"get ready to tell me about all those weapons!" you called out, already walking to the kitchen.

Once you disappeared, Vanessa raised an eyebrow at him, her expression an open book.

"Don't say anything"

"I'm not"

"good"

there was a brief moment of silence before Vanessa couldn't hold it anymore.

She busted out laughing

"Guns and swords!?" she laughed, recalling his joke

"Shut up"

"And the five-year-old thing!?" she kept going "Dude you've been drooling over her for two years and that's what you go for the moment you finally get to talk to her?"

He couldn't do anything but sigh "I need a drink," he said "And I thought it was funny"

"Yeah, you were the only one, my friend"

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pink-key · 4 months

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How would Toby be with a romantic partner if he ever entered a relationship (like would he be toxic/romantic/etc??)

This will be long, buckle up, as I want to tackle multiple questions.

This is an x y/n headcanons visual thing.

Warning: Terrible writing. Might be slightly dark. Very very long

Firstly, all depends on the closeness you have with Toby.

🍨 Plaything

🍰 Congratulations, you got him interested in you. Maybe it's your overly humorous reaction to him running after you, while he was chaotically swinging his hatchets. Maybe you had a drastically different reaction to his previous victims.

🍰 Either way, he loves tormenting you; his morals are either absent or corrupt. He likes to scare you, looking into your window to your room at night, laughing and rambling nonsense once you notice him (doesn't matter which floor you live on; he can climb). He can inflict some minor or not so pain on you, especially during his episodes, from randomly swinging his weapons in anger or excitement to pushing you around. There is no particular aim in that; he just feels like it, or his mind is fogged by voices and emotions.

🍰 Contrary to popular belief, he isn't shy, he isn't easily embarrassed. He is loud, obnoxious; he will make his opinions known to you; he will comment on anything you do or any of your clothes, personal belongings, even your family. He is here to have fun, not to worry about your feelings. As long as you entertain him, he will keep you alive, driving you to madness.

🍰 He can and will find you anywhere, will make you look like an insane person to other people. He is good at hiding and is skilled at hurting physically and emotionally from a distance (throwing a rock in the head, displacing objects in the room to make one paranoid, etc.). A 2-meter-tall stalker running around with two axes after you? You're hilarious, y/n!

Coincidentally, his boss doesn't order him to kill you; maybe you don't disturb his work much, after all, he doesn't visit you all the time (his life doesn't revolve around you). Just the least when you expect him.

🍰Telling him he is disgusting or commenting his mental issues will result in an instant end, unless he would want to play a chasing game in the forest with you before that.

🍰 If you have an S/O, he will mock you for choosing such a pitiful person as a partner. Just hope he won't involve your S/O in your little games. He doesn't care about your personal life, but he sure knows how dear this relationship is to you.

🍨 "We are buddies, r-right?"

🍰 You somehow managed to survive his attacks, random outbursts, mood swings, threats and, for some reason, decided to befriend him.

Honestly, being his friend is the healthiest you can get and keep bits of your private space at the same time.

🍰 He, despite being insane, brainwashed, and amnesiac, starts to see you more than just an amusement park attraction as a cute little pet, not really an equal. Your relationship is a bit more than him having a blast using physical or mental torture on you. Your presence and personality are also fun, who knew?!

🍰 Maybe, would EVEN feel a slight parody of pity for you. Especially if you tell him your sad stories of your life. He is terrible at comforting, but if the stars align right, he can play his favorite cassettes to you with cheery songs or try to make jokes, but don't expect that to happen every time. Maybe a pat on the head would happen, usually, he would tell you to stop being sad as there are worse things to cry about.

🍰 He teases you and pranks you a lot. Doesn't matter what state you are in.

🍰 His idea of friendship is a bit twisted. You won't mind that he will destroy your belongings if he finds them annoying, right? You are friends! Friends don't hold grudges against each other! Or if he would hurt your family members or friends because they said or did something that triggered his aggression, right? Friends forgive each other! You don't mind sharing everything with him, from food to information, because friends don't keep secrets from each other!

🍰 There is a good part to this relationship. He is kinder to you. Perhaps, would bring you a cute little trinket or object stained in blood. Friends make gifts for each other! He would appreciate it if you would give him something. Be careful what you give him, as he interprets your gifts in his own way. New hoodie? Are you implying his tastes are bad? Are you mocking him?

🍰 This is also where you can shape your friendship into a seemingly normal one. Food is a safe option. Learn what he likes to convey to him that you care about him. The man needs kindness deep inside. It will confuse him; he might get angry at you, at the world without understanding why, but the long-term result is worth the risk.

🍰 If you are in danger, he might save you. Although you will bear the guilt of some hooligans being either deadly hurt or dead.

🍰 He is also more open to you. You can hold small conversations with him, discussing music, for example. However, if he is in one of his episodes or even just mood swings, he can snap, shout at you or just be mad at you for an unknown reason, while rambling something incomprehensible and leave you alone for a week or more. Violence isn't completely off the table either.

🍰 If you have an S/O (or just hangs out with friends), He can get jealous because you don't pay attention to him at that exact moment. He isn't always jealous, just sometimes. If he is in a terrible mood, might even hurt your S/O, he isn't shy at that stage to involve anyone in the mess. He can complain about your S/O. It's not advised to dispute him, as he can get angry at you. You are his friend! Why are you fighting him?

🍨 Obsessive

🍰 After a lot of talking, gifts and, if you were bold enough, light friendly physical touch, he is feeling smitten by you.

🍰 You notice weird signs of attention from him, he makes some sort of romantic gestures, but it comes off as creepy to you. For instance, he thought a fur coat is what you would like, but he didn't realise you need to work on the fur instead of giving it bloody to you.

🍰 He doesn't understand himself, his voices aren't helping him either, he is feeling hate then sickly love from one second to another. If he thinks too much about that, he twitches and tics more than usual, especially in your presence. He is more distant; he doesn't respond to you. He just sits there, shifting his eyes without focusing on anything, occasionally roughly turning to one of his auditory hallucinations.

🍰 You don't understand his ramblings or whispers, and now they are more disjointed than ever. He avoids you for a few months or even more. It worries you more than him being around you, as you're used to his presence by now. Who knows, maybe he got bored with you and just contemplates how brightly he could end your life.

🍰 He can't run from his feelings forever. As a snow during summer, he busts into your house and just dumps all his thoughts on you—just an incomprehensible jumble. You won't understand it right away until he grabs you by the shoulders and forces you into an embrace, then pushes you away, twitching, staring into your soul, waiting for your response. He doesn't say, but he already knows how you feel, even if he lies to himself. He is attentive and sensitive to human emotions, and he reads body language quite well.

🍰 You have a choice. If you deny his love, either one of things will happen. You die because he feels like it. You don't like him, if he kills you, he kills his feelings for you at the same time. Yet, there is a slim chance he can just forcefully make you like him, can lead to kidnapping, but you won't love him that way either, he would realize that, that's not right, and you are also dead in this scenario.

🍰 If you lie and accept his feelings, you won't last long, either. He notices all the slight restless movements around him, your discomfort, the way you look at him. He hates liars, so it's best to be honest and die quickly rather than slowly.

🍰 If you have a strong, twisted friendship and you learn how to talk to him, how to act when he is difficult to interact with, and you just find him with his bouquet of disorders and trauma charming in his own way, then you don't need to say much to him.

🍰 He doesn't know anything about relationships. He can come off as toxic, as his jealousy flies from low to high in a matter of moments. He is still a snappy, angry, insane serial killer, he just now sometimes apologizes if he was too rude to you. More gifts too, woo-hoo!

🍰 He is obsessive, but that also depends on a lot of circumstances. He wants to be around you as much as possible. Just your presence gives him some sort of emotional bliss when his thoughts are a bit less loud than usual. At the same time, his thoughts are chaotic and get under his skin, and he can disappear for some time. Or one of your words can trigger him; he can be violent or distant.

🍰 Dates with him are attempts to replicate what he sees in movies. He watched whatever old VHS he found in abandoned cabins or houses in the woods, so it's pretty vanilla and traditional, dare I say: eating ice cream together, watching movies, slowly dancing to some old music. He uses old pickup lines too if he feels particularly spicy.

🍰 He isn't touchy. He is touchy unless there is a sinister goal in mind or he wants to be annoying. Toby subconsciously associates touch with bullying or violence. You have to teach him to appreciate affection and kindness, and it will take you a lot of time.

🍰 Eventually, with a lot of pain he adjusts to your taction. He likes to sit next to you, shoulder pressed against yours, while resting his head on your shoulder or head, enjoying peace and silence, while you fidget with his fingers, occasionally placing brief kisses on bruises on his hand. He likes small touches. Once he learns what a surprise hug is, he abuses the life out of it. Be prepared to have mini-heart attacks when he screeches into your ear and hugs you from behind while you return from a small grocery trip back home. Other than that, his level of tactility remains the same.

🍰 His mask and goggles are also mental protection for him from the world. You notice that he takes them off when he is around you.

🍰 He is weak for compliments..even if he overthinks, in some instances, becomes angry or sad, whatever mood hits at the moment, but deep down he is squealing. He will hint at that in his own way by trying to compliment you. This is also important as at times he feels paranoid you are plotting something against him, so compliment him when you can.

🍰 Small acts, like maybe washing his bloody clothes or sewing them as they have a lot of holes, makes him intensely love you. He just stares at you, you just think he is probably hallucinating something.

🍰 Movies showed what women truly desire, so he is a gentleman, ..tries to be, so he would bring you flowers that he probably snatched from a nearby garden. Would keep the door for you, all that, his twitching, ticking, can make it unpredictable. If you're slammed by the said door on your side, trust him, he didn't mean it.

🍰 If you see him just lying down and doing nothing for days, don't try to extremely cheer him up or, goodness forbid, say "smile some more." Just be by his side, be patient. He will become cheery again soon.

🍰 He is jealous, he cares about your attention more than ever. So be careful how you act around your friends, family, or strangers if you want them to be at least alive by the morning.

🍰 His mind can be fogged by rage sometimes, so stay out of his way, he isn't in his head when he is like that.

🍰 Oh, if you have an S/O while he is in this state. No more of that S/O, maybe not you either. If anyone dares to flirt with you, no more of that person, either. You can beg Tobs to just end the lesson with a severe beating but good luck with that. He may switch his unstable bloodthirst onto you if you try too hard.

If you reach this, thank you for reading this war and peace, hope this all makes a bit of sense lmao.

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faeriichaii · 3 months

Note

Hi!! Can you write something fluffy between Legolas and a female human reader? Even though Legolas has been around for a while, he is always watching the reader because he wants to learn about her little quirks and customs. The reader is always like “uhhh Aragorn why is he just staring” but Legolas reveals that it’s cause he finds her cute and wants to get to know her more while they’re together on the fellowship :)

Little Quirks ~ Legolas x Fem!Human!Reader

A/N: Ahh I missed writing for Legolas haha!! At this point he is like a major part of my life lmao <33 Ngl this took me longer than normal? Maybe I got a little rusty during my little time off haha rip but yeah here you go I hope you like it!!

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: fluff ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 1.3k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Meleth Nin ~ My Love ࿐ྂ

Summary: The elven prince for some reason couldn't stop staring at you, which in return made you confused and very curious, as to why his eyes were constantly following you around.

Legolas tilted his head to the side, smile gracing his lips, as his eyes focused on the way you polished your weapons to perfection. The dagger in your hand reflecting the bright fire in front of you, while you rubbed a cloth against the handle. A few gems were embedded into the metal, giving it some colour. You can’t quite remember when you got the dagger, but you knew you would be incredibly upset if you ever lost it. Holding it out in front of you, you inspected it for any kind of grime or dirt that still could be there. While doing so you notice that the elven prince has been staring at you for quite a while. He always seems to be staring at you, no matter what you were doing. It not just confused you, but also made you feel unsettled to some extent. “I hope you don’t mind me taking up the space beside you.” Aragorn said, as he made himself comfortable on the log beside you. His sword was on his lap, as he began to clean it off of the dried blood from the battle of a few hours ago.

“Of course not.” You placed your polished dagger into the leather holster that was secured on your thigh, before grabbing your own sword to take care of it as well. Taking a quick glance towards Legolas, you notice that his attention was now on Gimli, who seems to be mentioning one of his stories to him. “You know the elven prince well, right Aragorn?” You asked him, while running the cloth against the metal. “I wouldn’t say that I know him well, but I do know him longer than most of the fellowship do.” He sat his sword aside, before turning towards you. “What is on your mind?” “Well, I have noticed that he always seems to be watching me, no matter what I do. Like for example last week.”

Standing in front of the pot, you stirred it with the wooden spoon before adding a few more leaves. Normally Sam would be the one in your place, however you insisted to take his place for the night and make everyone one of your favourite dishes. You added in the few chopped vegetables you had prepared earlier. Noticing a certain gaze on your figure, you looked up from the dinner you were making. Legolas smiled softly at you, before lowering his gaze from you. You didn’t think much about it, until you took another glance into his direction and caught him again.

“Is everything alright Legolas?” “Yes, of course.” He said, his eyes never leaving you once. After a bit of more stirring, you poured a little of the stew into the bowls, before handing them out. Walking over to Legolas, you sat beside him before giving him his own food. “I really liked the song you hummed.” You tilted your head to the side at his statement, not really understanding what he meant. He noticed your puzzled expression, smiling gently at you. “You were humming while you prepared the dinner.” “Oh- I did not notice.” A soft embarrassed blush dusted your cheeks. “I hope it did not disturb you in any way. I normally hum only at home but I guess I was so much at ease that it just happened.” “Like I said (Y/N), I really enjoyed it. Maybe you could teach me the song sometime.”

“That does sound completely normal to me. He just enjoyed the melody.” You huffed at Aragorns statement. You knew that this sounded like it was nothing special. But it was not the only time you caught him staring a little longer.

You were standing in front of one of the many stalls of a small town. The fellowship decided to take a quick tour through the closest town, in order to stack up on some essentials needed for your travels. Of course, you tried to focus only on things you really needed for the journey, however the shiny jewels from the table beside the one you were currently browsing through caught your attention. “Welcome young lady, what can I do for you today?” You gazed upon the silver and golden necklaces that were laid out in front of you. “How much would that be?” You asked the merchant, holding up a golden bracelet, that had a little heart charm attached to it. “Around 30 coins.” You bit your lip in thought at his answer, only having so many coins in your little pouch. “I will be thinking about the offer, thank you.” Putting the bracelet back onto the table, you made your way towards another one. This one sold various items like books, as well as scrolls, bags, pouches, brooches and other little trinkets. Taking a beautiful hand mirror into your hand, you looked at your reflection. You noticed a familiar elven prince in the background, who seems to be looking into your direction. Tilting your head, you stared back at him through the reflection.

After a while of staring back at him, you put the mirror back onto the table and decided to approach him. As soon as he noticed you, a smile graced his lips. “Have you already gotten everything you needed?” He asked you, as you stood beside him. “Well, not really. But I have been wondering something else.” You tilted your head to the side as you mustered him. A smile was still present on his lips, as he mirrored your movement. “Why have you been staring at me again?” “Have I?” “Yes!” At this point you believe he was mocking you. You caught him through the mirror and he still tries to deny it. “I think you are mistaken.” He said, giving your shoulder a soft pat before joining Aragorn at one of the stalls.

“And what if you really were mistaken?” “I was not! Aragorn, I know that he has been staring at me not just those two times! He stares at me while I eat, while I talk, while I polish my gear, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was staring at me now.” The both of you turned towards the elven prince, who in fact was looking at you once more. “See? I would just want to know why he does it.” Aragorn let out a lough at your desperate sigh. “I am pretty sure that you will get your answer very soon.” And with that he stood up and left you alone.

After finishing up polishing your weapons, you decided to approach the elven prince once more to try and get answers to your questions. “Hey Legolas, can we maybe talk?” You asked him, while taking a seat beside him. “Of course, what is on your mind?” “I have noticed you were staring quite a lot at me. Is there a reason behind it?” A chuckle left his lips, as he grabbed your hand gently. Warmth spread over your cheeks at the soft touch. “I really enjoy watching you (Y/N). Not in an unsettling way! I just love to see you react to specific things. Or how your eyes shine when you find something you like at one of the stalls. Or how you just sometimes have that little jump in your step when you are really excited.”

Your face was red, as you nodded to each of the words that passed his lips. “I think your quirks are so interesting and so cute. You always catch me off guard.” A smile graced your lips, as you squeezed his hand. You didn’t know he felt so drawn towards you. “For example, right now. Your eyes are shining brighter than the stars above.” His finger graced your warm cheek, as he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I want to get to know you more and understand you better with every passing day.” “I will only allow it, if you let me study you as well.” You answered boldly, earning you a laugh from Legolas. “Of course, Meleth Nin. Anything that your heart desires.”

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beiasluv · 1 year

Text

neteyam x human!reader

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•

a/n: the domestic bliss got me so, here it is / let’s say you guys are the same age /spoilers??

masterlist

enjoy!

being a human on pandora isn’t easy as you might think. breathing air? not possible without a mask. traveling around? quite difficult with human’s capability.

but those didn’t stop you from loving this planet any less.

you are one of those babies who didn’t got a chance to travel back to earth 10 years ago, and you are not complaining.

pandora is much quieter and more peaceful (well, not yet, and we are here for fluff)

spider is one of your friends, well your only friend, until you meet netayam and the sullys. spider taught you the na’vi language, until you are fluent to a certain level. you can catch many phrases, but, unfortunately, can not reply.

you first met neteyam when you were both still young. he was practicing hunting for fish and you were exploring around the forest

“ok, near the rock, just as dad told…,” a young blue na’vi mumbled to himself and stretched back his arm, holding his weapon. splash! a loud sound echoed from the water as the fish was caught dead by the sharp tip. “yes! dad! I did it! I caught a fish!”

“…dad?” he looked into the bush as he saw your (e/c) reflected by the sunlight.

he crawled closer to the bush as he saw you running away deep into the forest. without any delay, he followed your footsteps and scents. along the way, admiring your beautiful choice of path into the damp grassy area. there, he found you napping peacefully by a tree and woodsprites surrounded you. your hair contrasted the green grass perfectly, yet your exomask covers your face from his.

“…hey,” the boy nudged you slightly causing you to stirred awake.

“wh..who are you?” you gathered yourself quickly, hiding your face from him. “oh wait, do you even know what I am saying? um…sorry, Ohe can’t tukru na’vi (I can’t speak na’vi)”

“you are funny, because you are speaking it right now, i am neteyam, who are you?” he giggled “I haven’t seen you around before, let alone a human,” he turned your face towards him. he tapped playfully on your mask, examining it as he looked into it.

“i am um…(y/n), and I haven’t left the lab that much,” neteyam stared into your eyes. “you must be spider’s friend, he told me about his friends.”

“are you related to spider?! must be nice keeping you to himself,” he fake pouted. “i want to have more human friends, my brother have five fingers like you!”

“well, you can meet me again by the lab. I didn’t left it that much, because i don’t have friends, except spider, of course, but he likes to leave me alone in the forest,” you rolled your eyes and received a giggled from neteyam.

“i can be your friend! and i promise I’ll never leave you in the forest!” he grinned showing his whitey teeth.

it was easy to say that your life had never been the same ever since

your duty patrolling grace’s tank at the lab isn’t so boring as before, and you get to meet and know grace’s legacy, kiri

neteyam would visit the lab with kiri more often, making up excuses like he wants to make sure she is okay while visiting grace.

another reason he likes to see you in the lab, because he can touch your face without the difficulties of a mask. he likes to hold your hand and especially your pinkie.

you, neteyam, and kiri became greats friends. while sometimes you would visit them in the forest; you noticed neytiri wasn’t giving spider the warmest welcome, so you learned to keep a space from her

neteyam, the being the older brother he is, is always protective of you and his siblings. you two are often teased as the parents of the group.

neteyam will carry you wherever and whenever you want. even times when you insist you can walk on your own, but he will carry you through the jungle.

tuk is very attached to you, even though she is 2x bigger than you but she’s your baby sister.

kiri is your bestieee, and she definitely knows all the tea. you will always comfort her when she gets picked on for her hands.

“these pinkies are here for special reason, it is for pinkie promises. a special promise for special someone, and you are special to me, kiri,” she smiled back.

the middle brother, lo’ak, is quite reserved at first but you’ve managed to melt his wall away. your warmth that his brother couldn’t resist made him comforted every time he is around you.

he sees you as an older sister and you’ve managed to made him listen more than his own brother. you know how to cheer him up and comfort him wherever he felt that he is his brother’s shadow. you became soft mother figure to him.

jake, being somewhat of a human, took you under his wings. he sees you and neteyam often teasing each other, and that reminded him of himself. (neteyam: one down, one more to go)

he is always glad that there is someone helping him and his wife around the house. you were there to support his children emotionally and physically, sometimes.

well, years had passed and the ‘lovebirds’ had grown stronger ever than before.

everything was going smoothly, until two reasons.

one, the sky people are back again.

two, you have grown weaker than before.

your human body was great but you hoped that you could have an avatar of your own, and coincidentally, the lab had been creating one for you. (definitely neteyam did not asked for one and definitely he did not begged his grandma to help with consciousness transfer)

“we have to take your DNA, okay? my (y/n)…” neteyam ran his hand through your head and hair calming you down. “i don’t know ways to help you other than this, i don’t want to lose you, alright? you are my best friend.”

‘you are the love of my life!’ you thought. “yes, i know, neteyam, take my DNA even if it means i am dying soon.”

“no! you are not dying, the sky people are here, well, yes, they might be your species, but you are special to me, okay?” he sighed. “I will not lose my best friend, not to a problem we have a solution to.”

“i don’t know what are we fighting for! you know that i am about to die, why then worth trying something that can be passed on for spider or other human with more opportunities and possibilities than me!”

“please, dont make this harder, okay?”

“neteyam! neteyam! nete-“ and that was the last thing you saw, netayam holding you down and a scientist with an anesthesia.

…

“grandma, how is she taking it?” neteyam strolled hurriedly around your body.

“wait out, you hot-headed boy, she’s going through…”

“what- what is going on?”

“(y/n)! (y/n)!” the blue faced boy went ahead and hugged your body close.

“neteyam, glad to see you-“ “woah- you aren’t so big anymore, my- my feet! they’re huge! woah- i have a tail? look! woah- what- my ear is like a cat’s”

“woah- woah woah, take it easy, my (y/n), that’s what i went through for 15 years, you just had it for one minute and you’re going crazy!” he giggled. “see? it wasn’t so bad after all and what’s a cat?”

“silly of you, neteyam- but why the tree of souls?”

“got cha consciousness transferred, wouldn’t have it done the scientifac- scientific ways,” he tapped your forehead slightly. “i begged for grandma myself, glad she’s helping out, or we’re doomed.”

“thank you, neteyam.”

life didn’t get easier after that, but you were now together, at last.

the sullys welcomed you quickly and warmly. neytiri had some hard times but jake reminded her once again of their past.

-spoilers-

uncertain times calls for uncertain choices, the sullys decided to move to the metkayina for shelter.

neteyam and his siblings, along with you, flew across the ocean toward your temporary home.

the flight there was risky as you guys had to travel across the storms and oceans. neteyam held you tightly within his embrace the whole flight.

the first few weeks, he often cries whenever he is alone with you, saying you are his safe house.

“i- i want to go home, (y/n), i can’t do this anymore,” he sniffles on your lap.

“i am so sorry, nete, we are here now, i miss our home too, but this is for the best for the people,” you cradled him close.

“you- you shouldn’t say sorry, my (y/n), it’s not your fault,” he grabbed your hair tight as he cried.

“ow, nete, c’mon let’s go swim and calm down,” you swayed him like a baby and sang him songs.

at the ocean villages, the leader welcomed the sullys with not the warmest welcome but satisfying enough for the time. they must live and depend on it for now, that’s the least they could do.

kiri and you got called out for having five fingers which neteyam did not take it very well. he had been hostile towards anyone who made fun of your hands.

tsireya, ao’nung, and the rest welcomed them as well, although the boys could’ve been much friendlier in your thought.

tsireya and you kicked along pretty well, she’s beautiful, kind, caring, and hot. 😳 (sorry, not sorry)

of course, you gotta tease her with lo’ak, and how she told him ‘i see you’ before you and neteyam was a disgrace. you love her like a sister and adores her so bad.

likewise, she never misses a chance to tease you with neteyam.

“please, y/n, when? when are you going to do it!”

“not now, not never, does he even like me?” you pouted. “he calls me his best friend, i am obviously in the friend zone.”

“c’mon, please, that boy is head over heals for you,” she rolled her blue eyes. “when i taught you guys to swim, he is drooling over you underwater, almost choking himself unalive i supposed,” she giggled.

“maybe he is just amazed by the ocean, it is really pretty,” you sighed.

“girl- you are not taking hints.”

and boys are boys, they were fighting on the beach over kiri. kiri stood there laughing and her brothers getting themselves into the mess. while you walked out of the water sprinting towards neteyam and lo’ak, grabbing their ears and dragging them out.

“i apologize for my friends,” you laughed politely at ao’nung’s face.

“e- erm, i am sorry, too,” he was stunned by your face, dampened by the water, and your hair sticking to your body. ‘grrr’ neteyam scowling in the background behind your back to ao’nung.

“now if you please excuse us, i am so sorry, let me know if you want me to treat your wound as an apology,” you smiled and turned back to widened your eyes at neteyam and lo’ak.

“so- sorry” “sorry🖕”

“lo’ak!”

wound-tending sessions wasn’t as fun as watching them fight.

kiri took lo’ak and you took neteyam.

earning ‘ow’s and ‘ouch’s form neteyam you scolded him while patching him up.

“squeeze my leg if it hurts.”

he did tried not to but he ended up left some red marks on your legs.

during harsh and cold times, you still find your comfort in neteyam. you guys cuddle every night together before bed, and singing lullabies together, reminding each other of home.

neteyam likes to be the big spoon but you can be the big spoon, too, ever since your human form to your avatar form.

now for domestic stuffs in metkayinaa

you guys love to swim together in the ocean, and sometimes hiding the reefs (shh, they make a great place for a kiss on the cheek)

neteyam loves your hand, he will hold them wherever you go.

he loves finding pretty shells for you and clipping them onto your hair.

ao’nung having a crush on you, and tsireya told him off. because, obviously, she is your biggest shipper.

neytiri and jake knew there is no use separating you and neteyam, so one calls for a family meeting.

she noticed how her children received an emotional support whenever they need it from you. neytiri slowly accepted you into her family and realized that you had become more than a friend to their family, but a part of them. now, she sends a heartwarming smile for you. (neteyam, two down, it’s only you babe)

“thank you, (y/n), for taking care of my family,” she hugged you. “you are a part of us, never let them separate us apart.”

“I trust you, (y/n), i see a great potential in you, take care of my sons and daughters in this time of war,” jake touched his forehead against yours.

fond moments must come to an end; the thing they dreaded the most had arrived, the sky people

you guys fought until your very last breath, and every moments felt like it is your last

“go! y/n! go!” lo’ak and spider jumped into the middle pool of the boat, while neteyam took the gun.

“okay! love! on my count okay?” you shouted back.

“no! on my count- OKAY HE’S DOWN! 1…2-“ he was taken back by your push, and as of everything goes in slow motion. your body push his against the rails and made him fall into the pool.

the bullet made its way towards your chest, and everything flashes back. your mom, your dad, your lonely childhood, meeting him for the first time, meeting the sullys, growing up together, transferring your consciousness, traveling here, and fighting along side him.

you felt an impact within your body, and his eyes widened as you both fall into the water. he cradled your body in his as you both meet the impact of the water. slowly, your bodies submerged into the water and he pulled you out…and everything seems to black out.

…

“no no no no NO!” you heard neteyam screams.

“rip that cloth, RIGHT NOW!” jake shouted. “she is losing her consciousness!” you felt a burning sensation and a tightening sensation on your shoulder.

“is she alright DAD! SHE IS SHAKING! DO SOMETHING!” neteyam cries and clings onto your body.

“y/n…” tsireya hold your hand and her wet tears dropped on your arms.

“No! My child, my guardian protector!” Neytiri screamed in agony, as she lose her voice in the attempt.

“neteyam! take her to the village if you still want to have the love of your life,” he pushed her into his embrace. without a second thought, he calls his ilu and drove head straight to the village.

the boy waited impatiently in front of the village’s nurse. he traced back and forth and his breath hitched whenever the nurse made any noise. he prayed to the great mother that she will be fine. his meals were untouched and he didn’t bothered fighting along his brother’s side for once.

he loathed the demon ever than before, he prayed his mother would’ve finish him off the second time.

it has been three days and the family is back together. they’ve been healing together spiritually and physically, except one boy who refuses to join them, neteyam. he had been sitting in front of the nurse room for four days full, until he heard a sound.

“neteyam?”

“yes? is she alright?”

“go ahead and see her for yourself,” the nurse opened the curtain.

“(y/n)? are you awake?”

“ne- neteyam? are you hurt?”

“(y/n)! thank the great mother!” he hugged your body so tightly that you might rip apart. “i thought i had lost you!” he cling onto her lap. “promise me you’ll never take a bullet for me again! pinkie promise me!”

“i can’t make promises i can not keep, love…,” you smiled and knitted your ringer finger with his. “do you know what finger is this?”

“um…longer pinkie?”

“no,” you chuckled. “this is a ring finger, a ring is put in the right side for engagement and left for marriages.”

“then i will never have to lose you with our ring fingers attached,” he rest his forehead on yours.

“how could you lose me, when i see you,” you smiled and kissed his forehead.

“i see you too.”

today’s a great day to take care of yourself, 🤍

#avatar #avatar imagine #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #avatar the way of water #lo’ak x reader #fanfiction #neytiri #neteyam x you #avatar x reader

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highladyandromeda · 1 month

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Shadows of the Heart

Part 4

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: After years apart, Y/n returns to Velaris, bearing the weight of sacrifice and secrets from her past. Reunited with Rhysand and his Inner Circle, she navigates the complexities of rekindled friendships and unresolved tensions.

WC: 1.5k

Warnings: n/a

[Prologue], [Part 1], [Part 2], [Part 3]

Azriel would never confess it aloud, but restless whispers haunted his night—echoes of Y/n’s radiant scarlet gaze and soft, pink lips lingering in his thoughts. The dinner had unfolded in a blur, his embarrassment at his shadows’ untamed curiosity barely contained. Amidst the flurry of attention, Y/n garnered, he found himself sidelined, his usually silent insecurities amplified as laughter and light seemed to orbit her effortlessly. And her unexpected friendship with Lucien, it gnawed on Azriel to watch them exchange glances and secretive smiles, angry at how easily he captured her attention, going as far as to ignore his mate, no matter Azriel’s own dalliances with Elain.

Muffled by his pillow, Azriel’s sigh was a mix of frustration and anticipation; he longed for dawn, not only captivated by her allure but also intrigued by the essence of her power. Y/n’s presence had marked a rare moment where his shadows' invasive dance hadn’t sparked fear or repulsion—an interaction that lingered persistently in his mind.

So when he made his way to the training ring, expecting to be alone to gather the rest of his thoughts, he was stunned to see a crowd already there. Traditionally the first to arrive, Azriel cherished these moments of quiet preparation before the day's chaos ensued. Yet, there they all were—Cassian joking with the Valkyries, Rhys descending with Feyre in tow, and even Amren positioned with her characteristic aloof observation.

For a moment, Azriel considered questioning the time, so out of sync with his expectations, before his gaze settled on the ring's center. Y/n commanded the space, her figure, cross-legged, suspended above the earth. The sight of her, ensconced in her crimson magic, edged with ethereal white shadows, captivated him wholly.

As her eyes opened, locking with his, a silent acknowledgment passed between them—a momentary connection that sent an unexpected jolt through him.

Dressed in tightly fitted leathers that accentuated her form, she exuded a presence that continued to stun Azriel, compelling him to avert his gaze in a rare display of discomposure. The subtle shift in his demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by Cassian, who, with a chuckle, seized the moment to lighten the mood.

“I guess the training ground got a bit more interesting," Cassian quips, earning an eye roll from Feyre. "So, what are we starting with today? Or are we just here to admire the view?"

Y/n, only smirking at the banter, rose with an elegance that seemed to defy the very nature of gravity. She motioned towards the practice weapons as a dagger flew into each of her hands, inquiring "Who's up for a spar with me?"

Before the others could process her actions, surprised at her magic; Azriel steps into the ring, the shadows at his command receding as he speaks, "I request the honor."

The agreement is silent but understood—no magic, just the skill of arms. Y/n stood ready, her dual daggers gleaming like extensions of her will, while Azriel, wielding a single dagger with a calm assurance, mirrored her posture. Their duel began with the two warriors slowly circling each other, each step measured and deliberate.

Y/n's gaze sharpens, her focus solely on Azriel as she searches for any sign of vulnerability, deliberately setting aside the distracting thoughts of how his attire complements the deadly intent in his posture. Despite years of rigorous training, honing both body and mind, she finds herself momentarily caught up in how pretty her opponent’s curly hair is, inviting an almost irrepressible urge to reach out and test the spring of a single curl.

Yet, she's quickly snapped back to reality as Cassian yells– “Oi! Will you two fight or keep making eyes at each other!”

Y/n's cheeks flush with a heat that rivals the morning sun, her focus briefly fractured by Cassian's teasing. The realization that her momentary distraction had been so visible, so palpable to everyone else, ignites a spark of embarrassment within her. She glances up at Azriel’s eyes, expecting to find amusement or perhaps annoyance, but instead, she catches a glimpse of a blush creeping up his neck, a show of discomposure that mirrors her own.

The air between them, charged with an unexpected tension, shifts as Azriel suddenly lunges forward, his movement a blur of precision and speed. It's a surprising aggression from him, given the usual patience and strategy he displays in combat. A chorus of exclamations erupts from their audience, a mix of surprise and excitement that fills the training ring.

In the split second it took for Azriel to lunge, Y/n's heart skipped a beat—not from fear, but from an electric jolt of understanding. So the spymaster was prone to the same bouts of flusters and rush of emotions as anyone else.

Y/n's reaction was immediate, her training kicking in, allowing her to duck and counter with a swift maneuver, her daggers slicing through the air in an arc aimed at Azriel's midsection. He parries with his blade, the metal singing as it meets her attack, deflecting her strike with a precision that speaks of centuries in the shadows. They break apart for a fraction of a second, assessing each other, before launching back into the fray.

Y/n, wielding twin daggers, utilizes a fighting style that is as much about misdirection and movement as it is about attack, staying in each position for only seconds at a time. Azriel, anticipating this, counters with his single, heavier dagger, meeting Y/n’s attack and attempting to use his opponent's momentum against her. The battle quickly transitions into close-quarters combat, their movements a blur to the onlookers.

Azriel, seizing an opportunistic moment, aims a strike at her left thigh—a reminder of her old injury. It's a low blow, figuratively speaking, leveraging his knowledge of her past vulnerabilities. But time and her magic have woven strength back into her form, allowing her to sidestep with a grace that hides the remnants of the wound.

Y/n feints then spins, her dual daggers a whirlwind of deadly intent as she aims for an opening in Azriel's defense. He counters, stepping in close, his single dagger thrusting towards her in a series of rapid strikes that she narrowly deflects.

At that moment, as Y/n faced Azriel, time seemed to dissolve around her, the world narrowing to the space of their duel. She felt an exhilarating rush of clarity, her usually tumultuous mind quieting to a whisper, leaving only the pure, unbridled focus of the fight. Her body moved of its own accord, every step and twist a testament to years of training, her consciousness drifting away from reality, disconnected and free.

Then, in a breathtaking display of agility, Y/n launched into the air, her body spinning horizontally in a swift, fluid motion. She landed gracefully behind Azriel, catching him off guard. With a precise, rapid swipe, she crouched down and swept his legs from under him, sending him tumbling to the ground. Before the onlookers could even process the move, she was already flipped over him, straddling his chest with a dagger poised at his throat and another aimed at his heart, her actions so lightning-fast, the crowd barely had time to blink.

Pinned beneath Y/n, Azriel found himself momentarily lost, mesmerized by the sight of her above him. Her cheeks were flushed from the exertion, breaths coming slightly heavy, yet there was a glow about her, enhanced by the sunlight that kissed her face, transforming her red eyes into sparkling rubies. At that moment, he couldn't determine what left him more breathless—the intensity of their spar or the sheer force of her presence.

A part of him silently pleaded for her to rise, fearful of how his body might betray him under her proximity. Relief washed over him as she extended her hand, a silent offer to help him up. Instinctively, he reached out, then hesitated, the sudden realization hitting him that she would feel the scars that marred his skin. The thought of pulling back flashed through his mind, but it was too late; she had already grasped his hand. He braced himself for any sign of flinch or disgust, but it never came. She pulled him to his feet, her gaze never dropping to his scars, her touch devoid of any hesitation. The slight smile she offered him at that moment was something he wished he could preserve indefinitely—a memory to be cherished.

Their quiet moment of understanding, however, was swiftly broken by applause and Cassian's booming voice, punctuating the air with both humor and admiration. "That's the most intense spar I've ever seen Az lose!" he exclaimed, clapping Azriel on the back before draping an arm around Y/n.

Rhys, joining in, added, "Clearly, you've been working hard on the continent, Y/n. Even injured, to have the spar last nearly an hour…" His words trailed off, leaving a note of respect hanging between them.

Azriel, his heart still racing from the duel and the exchange that followed, barely registered the passage of time. It had felt like mere minutes to him, not nearly an hour. But before he could think further, Nesta and the Valkyries converged around Y/n, their admiration clear as they bombarded her with questions about her technique, eager to learn from her prowess.

A/N: Yay! Azriel and Y/n finally had a one on one interaction!! I had a fun time writing this chapter and planning out their spar scene. I've only practiced martial arts with hand-to-hand combat and fencing so dagger fights aren't something I have much experience in -- Y/n's horizontal jump is inspired by the dagger fight in Dune 2, where Paul does that action and it looks really cool.

For my tag list, I tagged everyone who asked and those who commented on the previous parts. If you'd like to be included, please just let me know. 💕

TAGLIST: @strangelygreat @enfppuff @trip-n-sal @inloveallthetime @annamariereads16 @mybestfriendmademe @mariahoedt @annblvd @ania-swissweet @yearninglustfully @sleepylunarwolf @quiettuba @gorlillaglue25 @lilah-asteria @naturakaashi @sillymercury @itsswritten @xlosttdreamss @kennedy-brooke @xyzmeh @lucky7rosie @copenhagenspirit @collide-with-the-music @starsinyourseyes @dianxiaxiexie @maybefoxysouls @golden-canyon @violet-potter @thisiskaylin @acphengene @katherinejess @sevikas-whore @kalulakunundrum @hibye02 @madscamp02 @willowpains

#azriel au #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #acotar series #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azriel x oc #rhysand #morrigan #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #lucien vanserra

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seireiteihellbutterfly · 2 months

Text

Second Chance Sorcerer

Chapter 1

Summary: After surviving Mahito's Idle Transfiguration in the Shibuya Incident, Nanami finds himself in an unknown realm between life and death. Will he escape?

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Fem! reader

A/N: I can't believe I actually got around to writing this! *sobs*. I hope everyone does take the time to read it, and enjoys what I've created here. This will be a multi-chapter fic, quite different from the one-shots I've posted before. It was originally made with an OC, which can be read on my AO3 account, but all changes have been made to y/n here.

Thank you @actuallysaiyan for making the lovely title banner and for listening to me rant and giving me all the encouragement to finish this chapter. Everyone needs a cheerleader like you. 💜

Nanami masterlist | Chapter 2

“You’ve got it from here…Itadori kun.”

Those were the last words Nanami remembers saying before Mahito’s Idle Transfiguration fragmented his soul into smithereens. All he felt was pain, gut-wrenching pain as his soul collapsed and rearranged itself, piece after piece trying various combinations of alignment, trying to come back into some semblance of a whole, like chromosomes after being hit with a lethal dose of radiation.

His eyes squeeze shut, senses overloading as he prepares to meet whatever awaits him on the other side. Would it be a lovely afterlife like he’d hoped? Filled with long days on the beach, reading the backlog of books he’d been holding off on? Laying in the sun, no work, no obligations, just doing whatever he wanted to his heart’s content? He felt warmth against his chest, a bright light emanating from it, and for a split second, it felt like someone was calling out to him, a very familiar voice…

And all of a sudden it stops. With a thump, he crumples on something solid, his side colliding with the surface. Was this it? Was he in the afterlife? Nanami hesitantly opens his eyes and takes in his surroundings.

At first, it appears like he’s landed on a sidewalk that wound deeply into a very gloomy and derelict-looking city. He could make out buildings, traffic lights, and little shops tucked away in between these larger structures, all of them looking abandoned or in various states of disuse. Not exactly what he’d hoped for. Was this actually the Great Beyond?

Nanami pushes himself to his feet, relieved when he realizes he’s not in pain anymore. Had Mahito sent him to a separate contained domain? He squints, trying to find his bearings. There was no sunlight wherever he was, but the street lamps were lit along the length of the sidewalk, casting shadows along the way. He cautiously looks around. The place looks strangely familiar…

He grasps his weapon, the blade having still been in his hand when Mahito touched him, and advances down the road. As he walks, he realizes with a jolt that wherever he is appears to be a phantom of his neighborhood. He recognized this road now, as he had frequented it so often. Up ahead was the grocery store he would go to every Saturday. And right opposite it, a little cafe he would sometimes wander into for their lovely croissants and artisan coffee. The more he walked, the more he started piecing together a map of this area, astonished at what he was seeing. This certainly couldn’t be a domain expansion. There was far too much detail resembling the real world and, although the place gave a foreboding aura, seemed to be unoccupied except for himself.

He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, lowers his weapon, and tries to think. Logic was telling him Mahito had sent him somewhere, perhaps a sealed space, rather than kill him outright. But if that was the case, why was he healed? His entire left side which had been covered with fatal burns was gone, the skin healed over like new, his eye regenerated, hair grown back. His clothes and shoes had somehow been restored to their original condition, his glasses back to their position on his face.

Things weren’t adding up. He continued to walk, then came upon a library he remembered passing by in the real world but had never really paid attention to before. Deciding this was as good a spot as any to glean information about his whereabouts, he enters, squinting through the darkness. Lines and lines of shelves stood neatly arranged in the building. Nanami walks between the rows, pausing in between sections for a brief moment before continuing his perusing.

He rounds the corner, then quickly presses his back against a bookshelf as he senses an unusual energy signature fading away from him. So he wasn’t alone, and the thought wasn’t comforting. The energy didn’t match a human or a sorcerer, so he had to assume it was a special-grade curse. After his interactions with Jogo and Mahito, he didn’t know what to expect in terms of its abilities. He was tempted to escape but knew he had nowhere to go. If he was trapped in this domain what hope was there to escape this odd being he was sensing?

Raising the clothed blade with its polka dot pattern, he follows the energy steadily, not daring to breathe too loudly as he advances. It moves stealthily and silently, as though trying to elude him. This makes him immediately wary, sensing he could be getting lured into a trap. He follows at a distance, then stops as he comes to a reading section, the area cleared out and decorated with little chairs, poufs, and tables. Struggling to see in the dim light, he moves into the open, instincts screaming that he’s making a mistake. He pauses, trying to sense the energy again.

“It’s rude to chase one with a weapon you know.” A voice says from directly behind him. Nanami startles and spins around to face his pursuant, arms immediately coming before him to block an impending attack. Upon seeing the sight before him, his gaze fills with both fear and wonder, the being in front of him a vision of amazement.

All he sees at first are a pair of piercing silver eyes that seem to probe the very depths of his soul. There’s a quiet insightfulness to them like he was looking into the eyes of an old friend, yet an unsettling intensity that made him feel apprehensive. The being appeared to lack a shape, but as Nanami took another step back, the light from the street lamps showed it to be made of wisps of black shadowy mist, neither fluid nor gas, swirling endlessly around it.

Something within him tells him he shouldn’t fear this creature, yet all instincts were telling him to charge the attack before it got to him first. They stood, staring at each other through the dimness, before Nanami gathered his courage and asked, “What are you? A curse?”

The being huffs, as if it was an impertinent question. “What am I…Who am I…The question has been asked for centuries. Yet, even I do not have an appropriate answer…But I am most definitely not a curse.”

It glides silently over the floor, and Nanami instinctively raises his weapon. The being appears to look amused, based on the way those intense silver eyes glowed. “Put away your blade, Nanami Kento. The things I could have done to you once you entered my realm can’t be defended against by you, or even a special-grade sorcerer for that matter. I doubt even Ryomen Sukuna would stand a chance against me.” The smoky form billows, ebbing and flowing as it circles him.

Not entirely reassured, Nanami puts his weapon back in the holder of his suspenders. There’s an odd feeling of reverence despite the eerie nature of the being.

“I am what they call The Mediator, The One Before Death, or The Spectator.” It answers his question.

“And where am I?” Nanami asks the shadow.

“You are in between worlds, Nanami Kento.”

“In between worlds?” The blonde man repeated skeptically. Did such a thing exist? He had never given death much thought (beyond the dying part), and always assumed it was like being asleep one moment and waking up in paradise the next. To be in between worlds…had Mahito somehow just locked him away in another dimension that was a bleak version of his neighborhood?

“So…am I…alive? But in another dimension?”

The Mediator looked at him thoughtfully, as though wondering how best to explain to him. “You are alive for now. But you definitely died, otherwise you wouldn’t have ended up here in my realm.”

“I died, and came back to life?” The sorcerer frowned at the obscureness with which this said. “That makes no sense. People don’t just arbitrarily resurrect from the dead. I was severely weakened. My soul was unprotected. Mahito’s attack should have killed me.”

“It did. However, something at that moment reversed the attack and restored the various fragments your soul had shattered into.”

Disbelievingly, Nanami started running his hands over his torso as though trying to find evidence that he had died. It was just…fantastical…impossible…He had survived Mahito’s attack? What divine intervention could have possibly saved him from something so deadly? As his fingers near his wrist, they brush over a small chain, hidden under the cuff of his shirt. He quickly undoes the button and looks incredulously at the small charm, an Aum symbol, dangling from the chain.

“Y/n…” he murmurs her name softly. His apprentice. He now remembers her fastening one of these to not just him but to Ino and Itadori as well before they were deployed to Shibuya.

“That’s probably what saved you,” the being said evidently, interrupting Nanami’s thoughts. “Whatever that is, it was imbued with a heavy concentration of neutralized curse energy. So when you died from the attack, that charm activated and repaired your soul.”

Nanami absently fingered the charm, trying to think. Y/n’s ability to neutralize cursed energy had improved immensely under his tutelage, he knew that, but he hadn’t imagined it to this extent. Her other ability included being able to manipulate any cursed energy she neutralized into forms of heat, summoning flames on her palms that towered at least 20 feet tall. How she had imbued the energy into the charm was anyone’s guess.

“And I’m in between worlds.” He repeats again, trying to make sure he’s not misunderstanding the conversation.

“Indeed. Think of this as your own personal purgatory.” Those silver eyes bore into him like moons against a black sky, waiting to see his reaction.

Purgatory. Nanami pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, unable to fathom how insane this sounded. “I thought purgatory was for people who needed to be redeemed.”

“It is usually. But in your case, it looks like the veil partitioning the worlds got confused, seeing as how you left one dead, and then suddenly became alive in another. Death probably couldn’t figure out what to do with you so it sent you here instead.”

“So I’m stuck here?”

Despite the miraculousness of it all, Nanami couldn’t help but feel a twinge of irritation. He had been prepared for death for several years now. So much to the point that he had a will drafted, signed, and sealed, declaring all his possessions to be donated to charity since he had no other family or next of kin. A copy of the keys to his house had been entrusted to the lawyer who had helped draft the will. He had all his affairs set in order with the expectation that his death would be sudden and he was unwilling to burden anyone to deal with the repercussions.

He had known he would die in the line of duty. He had accepted his fate the moment Mahito had laid a hand on him in the underground, welcoming death as a tranquil friend. His whole life had been struggle after struggle, a gamble, clawing his way to stay alive. All he could say was that he had been lucky so far. There had to be a moment when that luck ran out. He had been dreaming of knowing peace and death seemed to be the only option for that.

“Does it bother you, that you are alive?” The purgatory being asks him curiously, noting his less-than-happy expression. “Most would rejoice at this second chance for life.”

The question hits Nanami with a gravity he hadn’t been expecting. “Most people haven’t lived my life. I’ve done enough. I’m tired. I’ve earned the right to a peaceful death.”

“And yet, it looks like someone desperately wanted you to live.” Those hypnotic eyes wander over to the charm dangling on his wrist. “Is that not reason enough? To not want to die?”

Disturbed by the notion, Nanami grips the charm. Y/n’s energy had kept him alive, unwittingly preventing him from moving on into the afterlife. Whether that had been her intent was debatable. Her desperately wanting him to live? It just didn’t seem likely to him. Sure, perhaps she didn’t want him to die in the way that people didn’t want others to die in general. But beyond that? He couldn’t fathom her being so consumed by the thought of his death that she would create a charm that essentially kept him alive after having his soul damaged to what should have been a point beyond repair.

Y/n had a late start in her career as a sorceress, and certain concepts about it seemed to stymie her, more typically seen in a younger student than someone her age. He had repeatedly told her to not worry about him when he took her on missions, to value her life more than his. He drilled it into her head when he taught her self-defense, that if there was an opportunity to escape she should take it, the hand-to-hand combat sometimes leaving bruises on her skin because she’d been unwilling to take a shot at him. It always pained him when that happened, marking her, leaving those unsavory blemishes on her but how else was she going to learn that fairness wasn’t something that existed in Jujutsu? Her willingness to get a little scuffed up if it meant protecting him from a curse irked him. She was rather like a kitten unwilling to be shooed away from a reluctant petter. His lips curled wryly as he imagined her expression if she ever heard that comparison out loud.

‘Don’t be so cruel Nanami san!’ She’d probably say, those large (color) eyes looking at him reproachfully. And for a moment, his mind’s eye couldn’t picture anything else except that; those large (color) eyes, and the shock in them when he told her that he didn’t think he’d live very long. She hadn’t said anything to convince him his mindset was wrong, but she did look like he had betrayed her by expressing his very honest and logical opinion. As though he had broken an oath to her by not saying he wanted to live long and prosper.

Nanami gives himself a mental shake. This wasn't the time to be thinking about Y/ni's opinion on his death. The bigger task at hand now was figuring out what to do about his imprisonment in purgatory.

All the while, the shadow hadn’t wavered and had merely continued to look at him work through his inner monologue. Realizing that Nanami had reached a limit, it said, “No, you are not stuck here. At least, not for very long.”

The sorcerer’s head snaps up at those words, eyes narrowing behind the green glass of his frames. “What do you mean, not very long?”

“Well, the neutralized energy imbued into that charm? It’s not infinitely going to remain contained in that. The seal broke when it saved your life, and it’s essentially trickling out little particles of it. It will run out at some point, although it’s difficult to say when that is.”

“And when it does run out?”

“You’ll die.” The being says simply. “And move on into the next realm. That’s the way purgatory is supposed to work. Cleanse you to be fit to live in the realm of death.”

“And it’s unknown when that will happen?”

The shadow appears to ponder his question before offering a hesitant guess. “A few days, maybe 4 or 5 at maximum, based on the energy intensity that it's currently emitting.”

“And what am I to do for 4 to 5 days here?” Nanami gestures around the gloomy library, obviously not impressed with this arrangement. These extra days before his impending death somehow made a vein pop in his forehead. It was like a pre-death before the actual one.

“Well, you must have noticed by now that this is the neighborhood you used to live in. You are free to wander around here and experience your old life one last time. You can visit your apartment, take the subway and wander around the Jujutsu High campus, or watch a movie in the theater.” The shadow suggested, sounding like a pleasant tour guide for the afterlife. “Think of it as a vacation before your death.”

It struck Nanami as a little absurd but he strokes his chin, considering. “And that’s my only option? To experience my old life before dying?”

“It’s not the only option. You could go back and live.”

A pregnant pause hangs in the air at those words. Nanami’s eyes widen at the thought. He could go back to the land of the living? He hadn’t even considered that as an option. He only had death on his mind. Thoughts of living on a beach, days filled with no responsibility still flickered through his mind but at the same time…

“What is it about life that makes you so hesitant?” The purgatory being asks him inquisitively.

Nanami opens his mouth but no words come out. Had he been thinking about how to escape his situation that all he had ever thought about was dying? It wasn’t unexpected of him. He had learned so long ago that life was mostly shit, with a few moments of relief folded in. At least it was for curse users. He remembers seeing all the people he knew die, how he had tried to escape from Jujutsu, only to be sucked back in because he knew he didn’t fit in anywhere else. When faced with the choice of remaining in a job of corporate greed, or one that endangered his life but was somewhat altruistic, the choice became apparent. He had returned to Jujutsu. Not entirely selflessly, but with the idea that it was the quicker way out of his misery.

“Is there nothing you would like to return to?” The shadow presses. “Remember that you are a very rare case. Hardly anyone ends up in purgatory under your circumstances. I would hate to see a life go to waste because you don’t know what to do with it.”

A sudden memory comes into Nanami’s mind. A day of unexpected frivolity, when Y/n, Yuji, and Ino had convinced him to come along to an amusement park. It was an odd day but to his surprise, he hadn't hated it. Y/n had mostly stayed away from the roller-coasters, leaving it to Yuji and Ino, wandering with Nanami to the food stalls, closer in age to him than she was to the boys. It was a strange feeling of domesticity he had never experienced before, almost like they were a hodgepodge family of misfits. It was the closest thing he had experienced to a normal day in a long time.

But days like that were rare. They were like sprinkles on top of ice cream. People could never have more sprinkles than ice cream. Life just didn't work that way. However, Nanami found himself contemplating his choices. Perhaps he had been so jaded that he thought life was wading through ice cream instead of appreciating the sprinkles? And here he was dreaming about sprinkles when he was stuck in purgatory.

He sighs and shakes his head. “If I did go back, would it make a difference?” He asks doubtfully.

The being’s eyes crinkle warmly, almost like it's smiling. “To one person, yes. And isn't that more than enough?”

The charm swings from his wrist like a pendulum. He considers the shadow’s words and feels his heart clench uncomfortably. The stakes almost felt too high, wagering his return to life on the chance that it would make a difference to Y/n. Well, maybe not just her. He frowns as he feels the energy in the trinket resonate for a brief moment when he thinks of her, as though it was trying to convince him to make the gamble. He had never quite paid attention to her energy signature before now, so concentrated within the tiny object; it felt like a warm cup of coffee on a lazy Saturday morning. He feels disconcerted that he could sense this now and it was making him want to change his mind about dying. He sighed deeply, feeling his resolve begin to solidify, even though it felt like he was making the wrong choice.

“How do I get out of here?”

The shadow has no features except its eyes, but if Nanami could assign it an expression, it would have to be triumph.

“I’m so glad you asked.” It appraisingly looks at him, before continuing. “Perhaps you might want to let the lady know you’re alive.”

“Must I?” Nanami asks with a hint of exasperation.

The shadow looks amused but continues in an even tone. “I’m afraid I must insist. It's better to give people a warning when you’re coming back from the dead. Prepares them for the prospect of seeing you again. Trust me, it’s better that way.”

“And how do I do that?”

It merely continues to look at him with that amused expression and Nanami almost lets out a growl of frustration. “Listen. I died. Then I was told I wasn’t dead, but I’ll die soon. Then I changed my mind and decided I wanted to live. The least you can do is tell me how to get a message out of here.”

The purgatory being laughs; it’s an eerie noise, yet had all the comfort of a long-lost friend. “Very well 7:3 Sorcerer. It’s simple really. To send a message out of here, all you need to do is blend your cursed energy with the cursed energy of the person you’re thinking about going back to life for. Imbue this energy into a small object which will then find a way to its recipient.”

The elementary way this was said nearly cracks his temper. “Is that all?” He asks, unable to keep the bite of sarcasm out of his voice.

The shadow chuckles at this, adding to his ire. “It really is. Just try focusing on something other than your disappointment of not dying today.”

Nanami takes a deep breath and exhales through his nose trying to keep his composure. “A small object…” His hand grips the handle of his blade and pulls it out, eyeing it carefully. The whole blade wouldn’t make it. He just automatically knew it. But he wanted to make sure Y/n would recognize the message was from him. He fidgets with the blade, thinking, and then by accident, the edge of it comes in contact with the Aum charm.

The blend of energy that shoots through him was a shock; a mix of the warm coffee on Saturday mornings, coupled with the calculated preciseness of a seasoned Q-grader who assessed those coffee beans. The polka dots spattered all over the cloth wrapping the weapon glowed at the edges for a brief second before the blade lost contact with the charm.

Nanami observed the whole process with fascination. Dormant instinct took over him, and he moved his hand so that the charm now swung over the blade. Focusing on that combined energy signature, he purposefully touches the charm to the blade. Y/n’s neutralized curse energy flows into the blade, and he feels his own beginning to fuse with it. He concentrates on his ratio technique, and with a flash, all the polka dots lift off the blade, glowing with a pale sea foam green aura.

“Find her,” he whispers to the dots, and in a hazy glow, they vanish.

Nanami watches, as though in a daze, unable to believe what had just happened. He turns to look at the purgatory being.

“Message sent. Now, how do I get out of here?”

The shadow being had been looking at the spot where the polka dots had vanished. It swirls around and looks at him in the eyes.

“By facing your deepest regrets.”

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estrellami-1 · 8 months

Text

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie exchange looks. “Can you tell how long?” Nancy asks.

“Less than a day,” El says, sounding apologetic. “Other than that…” she shakes her head and slips the blindfold off. “I am sorry.”

“You’ve done more than enough, El,” Robin soothes. “Thank you.”

“We have to go after her.” Nancy looks pleadingly at Steve. “You want to save her, too, right? Not just Will?”

“I do,” Steve nods. “I didn’t know how long we’d have. I’d hoped we’d have more time, but it looks like we’ll have to go in twice: once for Barb and Will, and once to kill Vecna.” He looks around the room, focusing on the three boys. “I know Will was the artist, but Lucas, I know you can draw too. If we get you a map, can you find points and direct us?”

Lucas sets his jaw and nods. “I’ll do my best.”

“Okay. Here’s the plan, then: you three, stay here with El.” He looks at Dustin, Mike, and Lucas. “We’ll have walkie talkies, so we can keep in constant communication. El, how long can you stay in that space?”

She looks at him steadily. “I can do it.”

Steve looks at her, then nods. “I trust you. Robs, you’re with me?”

“Just try and get rid of me, Dingus.”

Dingus? Jonathan mouths to Nancy, who shrugs.

“Nance, Jon, and Eddie. You’re with us. We’re getting in and out as fast as we can. If all goes according to plan, we’ll have two more people coming with us on the out. They’ll be weak, but between the five of us, we can and will get them out safely. Robin, you stay here, direct the weapon-making. Make sure I get a bat. I’m going to go get walkie talkies, masks, and a whole lot of first aid supplies.”

“Got it,” Robin nods, then points at Eddie, Jonathan, and Nancy. “You three, with me.” She leads them to the backyard, and Steve knows she’s bringing them to the shed, where his old sports things and various tools are.

He looks to the boys. “Keep working on those plans. We’ll need them for the second attack. El, do you want to rest before we begin?” She considers it, then nods. “Okay. You know where the bed is. I’ll be back in less than an hour, alright?”

She nods and begins climbing the stairs. Steve looks around once more, taking stock, then grabs his keys and walks out the front door.

He gets to the store no problem, walks inside and starts filling his basket. Seven walkie talkies, seven masks, seven pairs of goggles, antibacterial cream, bandages, a suture kit, some ice packs. Two bottles of pain pills. He thinks about it, then makes his way to the front desk, smiling at the employee. “Hey, could I use your phone for a minute, please?”

He looks at Steve, unimpressed, then shrugs and gestures towards it. Steve thanks him and dials his home number.

“Hello?”

“Dustin. Do me a favor and get Eddie?”

“Yeah. One second.”

He hears Dustin yelling for Eddie as he walks outside, then a minute later, Eddie’s on the line. “Hello?”

“Hey, Eddie. I grabbed some pain meds, but I’m wondering if they’re going to be strong enough. I can pay you, but could you…”

“Yeah, no, I’ve got it. And no, dude, you’re not paying me. Not for this. I’ll head home and get them right now.”

“Perfect,” Steve says. “Thanks so much, Eds, you’re a lifesaver.”

“Uh, y-yeah, no problem. I’ll, uh, go now.”

“Okay. I’ll probably beat you back. See you there.”

“See you,” Eddie agrees, and they hang up,

Steve looks around for a few more minutes, finds a package of nails, adds those to his basket and goes to check out.

He’s well aware he probably looks like a serial killer, but he knows from experience the cashier is blindly scanning his items.

His luck runs out when Chief Hopper walks in and ambles towards the checkout counter. Steve does his best to keep the sigh internal. “Chief,” he says, giving him a little nod. The chief returns the greeting, peering over into Steve’s basket.

Steve suddenly becomes very interested in the gum options.

“What’s all this?” Hopper asks, inclining his head towards the basket.

Steve shrugs. “A few different things.” Please accept it, please accept it, please accept it-

“Like what?”

Dammit. “Uh… well, I noticed I didn’t have a first aid kit, and I figured I probably should, y’know? And I wanted to do some work around the house.”

Hopper grunts. “The masks and walkies?��

“Um.” Steve blanks. “It’s for a game with my friends?”

Hopper sighs. “If I get a call from your neighbors-”

“You won’t,” Steve says. Promises.

“Fifty-one sixty-four, sir,” the cashier says. Steve’s never been more grateful to be interrupted.

He pays, grabs his things, and sends Hopper a salute on his way out the door. He notices Hopper watching him as he leaves the parking lot, and he forces himself not to speed on the way home.

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danikamariewrites · 9 months

Note

Hi! Could you write a story where the reader has a very high fever and she has nightmares and Azriel takes care of her? Thank you!

I adore your stories and you're one of my favorite writers.🤗

Fever Dreams

Azriel x reader

A/n: hi anon! Thank you that’s so kind of you to say. I hope you enjoy this, I love comfort!Az

Warnings: angst and comfort

A violent cough shakes your body as you reach for the glass of water on your bedside table. The lights in the room were dim due to your headache, making it hard to see the glass through your watery eyes. Azriel rubbed your back and handed you the water as your couch calmed down.

You had a fever for a few days thanks to the flu that was currently infecting the citizens of Velaris. Azriel didn’t want you to be alone so he had been working in the bedroom all week. Having Az take care of you was wonderful. He knew when you wanted space, made you your favorite foods, and cuddled you whenever you wanted. He didn’t care that you were sick, you needed him and that was all that mattered.

Once the glass was finally in your hands you gulped water down like your life depended on it. “Slow down or you’ll make yourself sick again, love.” Azriel said, pulling on the glass a little. You let go and Azriel takes it from your lips, setting back down on the table.

“I have to go talk to Rhys and Cass for a bit. Try and get some rest and I’ll be back soon.” He places a gentle kiss on your forehead before leaving. Az let out a disapproving hum at your temperature. The fact that your fever hadn’t broke yet was scaring him, but Madja had done all she could for now.

As you lay down you mumble an ok. Closing your eyes you hear the door close softly and Azriel’s footsteps receding down the hall. You shiver, your eyes getting heavy with sleep. You decide to give in and finally rest.

You were running as fast as you possibly could. It felt like you were getting nowhere. Finally, you crash through the door and fly down the stone stairs, following the screaming. Azriel’s screaming.

Your heart was pounding. Sweat dripped down your forehead. You come to a screeching halt at the end of the long hall. Your eyes going wide at the sickening sight in front of you. Azriel was chained to the wall, his back exposed and wings dripping blood.

One of stepbrothers was standing behind him holding a dagger, the other dancing his fingers over a table laden with an arrangement of weapons. You went to enter the room but bounced back at the threshold. They look at you, vile smirks on their faces as they taunt you. You felt faint, like you were about to empty the contents of your stomach on the floor.

You kept running and banging on the invisible barrier keeping you from your mate. The males mouths were moving but you couldn’t hear them. The one with the dagger made a slice on Azriel’s wing. You couldn’t hear their words, but they sure as hell made sure you could hear Azriel’s cries of pain.

One of the stepbrothers approaches the invisible barrier. A taunting smile on his lips as he intensely stares into your eyes. You get closer to the barrier, putting on a stone face. He slams his fist down in front of your face and you black out.

Jolting awake, you feel the cold sweat coating your body. Your heart was still racing as you whip your head around the dark room looking for Azriel. You were shaking violently. Between your sickness and the dream that felt too real your mind was confused.

You rip the tangled sheets from your body and drop to the floor on your hands and knees. Pulling yourself up you stumble over to the door. Your stomach squeezing with each step. Your bones ache and knees scream in protest of your movement.

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. You had to see Azriel with your own eyes. Know that this sickness wasn’t caused by his wicked stepbrothers. Gods, you were so disoriented.

You finally made it to the hallway. The cool air from the open windows freezing the sweat on your body, easing some of your nausea. You hold yourself up on the wall as you hobble as fast as you can to Rhys’ office.

You’re so close to the door. Just a few more steps and you’ll be there. You notice Cassian coming up from the other end of the hall. He tilts his head in confusion at your hunched over frame. Noticing it’s you he runs over, grasping your arms to hold you up.

“Y/n? What are you doing out of bed?” His brows knit together and concern flashes in his eyes. You steady yourself on his broad chest, your eyes staying glued to the office door the whole time. “Y/n?” He says louder.

“Azriel.” You mumble out and push off him. “What about Az?” You keep walking to the door. Cassian finally notices you are far from ok. He steadys you from behind, flinging the door open. “Az!” He calls out in panic.

You free yourself from Cassian once more and quickly stumble to your mate. He clears the room in two long strides and scoops you into his arms. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Panic is clear in his face. His eyes roam over you. You lift your shaking arms to place your hands on the sides of his face.

“You’re ok.” Your words come out broken and scratchy thanks to your dry throat. “Yeah I’m ok. What happened, baby?” You lick your dry lips while trying to find your voice. “Bad dream.” He nods and starts to walk back to your room.

Azriel places you back down in bed. He leaves your side for a moment and you let out a cry. Thinking that if he walked away he would never come back. He returned a moment later with a cold wet cloth for your face. Placing it over your eyes you feel the bed dip next to you as he sits.

He runs his fingers through your hair slowly as he hums to calm you down. You feel your heart beat return to normal and your nausea die down. Your shaking stops and your body relaxes into the mattress. “Az?” He lifts the cloth so you can see him. “Thank you. For taking care of me.”

Azriel gives you a small smile and pulls you close to him. Snuggling into his side you feel yourself regain some strength. Like his presence is curing you. “You don’t need to thank me, my love. I’m your mate. It’s what I’m supposed to do.” You let out a hum and feel a wave of exhaustion hit you. Sleep claiming you again.

tags: @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane @aroseinvelaris @twsssmlmaa

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader imagine #acotar reader fic #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel fluff #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel imagine #azriel fic #azriel

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b33zlebubz · 3 months

Text

RECKLESS ABANDON--------

CHAPTER SEVEN - dogfight

TASK FORCE 141 X READER (PLATONIC)

PREV CHAPTER || MASTERLIST || AO3 LINK || NEXT CHAPTER

TAGS: gender neutral reader, angst, fluff, slow burn found family, PTSD, trauma bonding, kidnapping, reader is a foster kid in high school, family drama, blood, violence, guns

"After your life falls apart at the seams very early on, you work hard to keep the small amount of peace you still have. Foster care is rough, work is draining, school is a drag...but you eventually find yourself in a good place. All of that quickly goes to waste, however, when your family's unfinished business finally finds its way back to you."

Suddenly, everything is a blur of red lights and yelling and running.

Price ushers you to your room with a stern: "go go go." You grab your pack and shove what you can into it as he guards the door, handgun firm in his grasp as he shouts orders to soldiers as they dart up and down the hallway grabbing gear. Your heart pounds in your ears and you barely have time to zip up your rucksack before he's urging you out again.

Sandwiched between everyone with your head ducked down, you run. Gunshots ring out over your head and under your feet, and you yelp whenever Ghost grabs your arm and yanks you away from a sniper hit just as you're leaving the building; urging you along. Price is yelling. Soap is yelling. Nikolai is with your small group—sharp, Russian orders shouted over the loud buzzing of a helicopter as you're all but pushed inside.

It's off the ground the second your back hits the wall. Suddenly, Price is in front of you again—but you can barely see him through the panic that floods your senses.

"Breathe. Deep breaths, kid. C'mon," he says as he coaxes a headset onto your head. You try to help, but your hands are too shaky. The others are yelling, and Ghost is leaning out of the side of the helicopter as it bobs and dips, returning Shadow Company fire with abandon. The sound, as well as the raspiness of Price's voice, are both muffled by the earphones around your ears until Price's voice comes through on the comms. "You're safe with us. Y'hear me?"

You swallow the bile that threatens to rise in your throat, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to force your breathing to regulate. You nod, but your hands squeeze at his sleeves anyway—knuckles white as you use his presence to ground yourself.

"Okay," you force out. "Y-yeah. I hear you."

"Good. Keep breathin','' he looks over his shoulder to where Ghost, Soap, and Gaz are all fending off the others. "Does anyone have a visual?"

"They've got their own helos after us, sir!" Gaz shouts. "Things might get ugly!"

"Helos?!"

"There's five of 'em!" Soap clarifies, reloading his weapon. His arm is bleeding, but he doesn't seem to notice. "The cunt isn't fucking around this time! It's either we go down, or they do!"

"Yeah, well, that's not fuckin' happening," Price all but growls, bracing you against him as the helocopter lurches to the side. "Give 'em hell!"

"Yes, sir!"

You press yourself back against the wall, watching as everything goes to shit around you. A line of fire dents the wall of the helo right by your head and you yelp. "Price—"

As if on cue, there's an explosion.

You're knocked sideways. Your vision blanks whenever your head hits metal, a ringing in your ears exploding from your senses. In a split second of quick thinking, your hand wraps around a metal railing as the helo tilts. Curses and yells of surprise fill the small space as everyone scrambles to the side.

Except one.

"Soap!"

He slips with a yell and you grab his wrist before he can slip out the side opening. You watch boxes and supplies slide out and into the snow maybe twenty stories below as the Earth below you tilts and spins. Shocked, he looks up to meet your gaze—your eyes meeting his with nothing but sheer panic as he lifts his other arm to grab your wrist in both hands, legs flailing.

Nikolai is quick to right the helo again and you're launched back onto the floor at Soap's side. Disoriented, you pant as your shaky arms pull yourself upright to meet Soap's gaze. He's shocked, eyes wide as he blinks with you—as if he really didn't expect you to save him.

He nods his thanks before Price pulls you to your feet again.

"We lost Gaz!" Nikolai's voice explodes over the comms.

"Fuck's sake!"

"Again?!"

"We'll have to go back—"

"No time!" Nikolai calls over his shoulder. "You want to stay alive—no turning back. Not now."

"Gaz," you huff, scrambling out of Price's hold. "No—no we gotta go back!"

Price grabs you before you can get too close to the opening. "There's no time, kid!"

"We can't leave him behind!"

"We have to!"

You shove yourself free just as there's a loud blast and the helo lurches again. This time, you're too late to grab something.

There's yelling before there's silence. A bright light and the feeling of something large knocking into you before there's nothing but blinding white and bright blue sky. Your headset flies off your head, getting swept away in the wind as you watch the helo spin out of control from afar.

You're falling.

You're screaming, you think, but the ringing in your ears drowns out everything else. Your body spins in the air as you flail and air rushes into your eyes and lungs.

The ground gets closer.

Closer.

Then, your body breaks ice with a smash and everything is loud again. The water roars as the breath is punched from your lungs. You know you should move, flail, kick your legs—but your body doesn't respond. You watch the bubbles fly past the dog tags around your neck as the light of the surface sinks past your fingers.

Calm. Quiet.

Your body goes limp. For the first time in weeks, the panic ebbs way to peace as the freezing cold numbs your senses. You think, maybe, you could sleep like this—silent, undisturbed, as your eyes sink shut and your nerves die.

Then, a hand grabs the front of your jacket, and you're yanked to the surface.

Simon gasps when he breaches the ice with you in his arms. Not that it supplies him with much air to begin with; as the sopping wet cloth of his mask seems to choke him with each breath. Waterboarding, a torture he's grown very familiar with over the years—and it sends an extra surge of adrenaline through his veins that helps him drag you up and onto the ice before climbing up beside you.

He turns on his side and it feels like the world tilts with him as he sputters and coughs up water. The ringing in his ears is bright and loud as it seems to leak into his vision, blurring everything into smudges of white and black that are nearly incomprehensible. Be it blind panic, or just his natural instinct to get up, keep moving—drilled into his brain after years and years of experience—but he shoves himself to his knees anyway.

He hears what sounds like coughing, gagging. Panting. His eyes flit over just as the sharpness in his vision returns and you're the second thing he sees: on your hands and knees, curled in on yourself at his side as you spit bile, blood, and water onto the ice with an arm curled around your stomach. It's then that everything rushes back to him. The alarms, the gunfire, the helo, Price's shouting, the Shadow Company.

He reaches out with a hoarse and quiet: "Kid..."

Your breathing doesn't settle. Instead, it seems to speed up as you scramble backwards and the ice cracks underneath you. Your movements shake, arms and legs dumb, slow, and useless as you force them to move you backwards; away from him. Blood coats your face and your eyes are bleary and unfocussed. He recognizes the look you give him—one of panic, confusion. It's identical to how you looked at him whenever you first met, with a dead man's blood splattered on your clothes.

"No," you mutter, your breath coming in fast puffs. "No no no no."

Simon stumbles over, grabbing your shoulder, "Easy now—"

Startled, you kick him away. "Get off me!"

"Keep your head on, kid, it's me!"

"Fuck off!"

In a split-second decision of disparity, Simon reaches up and yanks off his mask. He grabs your shoulders, keeping you still as you freeze—the figure of your nightmares gone and replaced, instead, by something more human. Something sopping wet and equally as freezing. He watches the fear in your face give way to confusion, and then the confusion give way to shock.

"It's me," he huffs out between breaths, the cold air stinging his skin, "It's me."

He watches your mis-matched pupils scan over his face, the furrow in your brows smoothing over as a rivulet of blood drips down your temple from the gash on your forehead. There’s a split on your lip, too, and all the blood mixes together as it drips off your chin. Simon can’t imagine he looks much better as you take in his facial features for the first time.

Then, he watches your eyelids flutter as your head lulls forwards, and he catches it in his hand.

“Don’t,” he commands, immediately shifting into action again. “Stay with me."

“How…” You rasp as he turns, leaning you against his geared chest to free his hands—each breath fogging up into the freezing air as he keeps you in a sitting position. He reaches for the comm on his shoulder. With shaky hands, he switches through channels until he gets to one that's dead silent. He swallows thickly before he speaks.

“Watcher, this is Bravo 0-7, do you copy?”

The radio sputters. The only thing that greets him is the silence of the snow and your shaky breathing. He tries again, more urgently.

“Ghost to Watcher. We fell out the helo. Kid’s injured bad do you copy?”

Again, silence. Ghost hears your breathing hitch and he purses his lips together. Just as dread begins to settle deep in Ghost’s stomach—a voice comes loud and clear through the speakers.

"Watcher to Ghost. I hear you. Any word on Price?"

You let out a sigh of relief at the sound of Laswell's voice. If Ghost didn’t have a probably-broken rib, he’d do the same.

"No," Ghost grunts. "We fell in a lake. Helo is nowhere in sight."

"Are you injured?"

Ghost tastes copper in his mouth when he breathes. "I'm upright."

"And the kid?"

You go to speak, "I'm fine—"

"Hit and in shock," Ghost interrupts. "Probably concussed."

Then, Price's out-of-breath voice cuts through the comms. There's shuffling and other voices in the background. “Ghost, this is Price. You’re safe?"

This time, Ghost does let out a breath. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. We’ve crashed but Laswell's sent a team out to grab us. We’re coming back for you two, you hear me?”

You grab Ghost's arm, "But Gaz—"

“Loud and clear, sir.” Ghost breathes, “loud and clear.”

“Good man. Get to safety, stay warm. We'll be there A.S.A.P."

"Solid copy."

And, with that, all was silent aside for the sound of you and Ghost's combined breathing. He places a hand on your shoulder, easing you back to look up at him. "You still with me?"

Your eyes squeeze shut. You shake your head as if trying to shake something out of it, your countenance flushed and dazed from the freezing cold. He rubs your shoulders, trying to restore some warmth to your body.

“Keep talkin’. Tell me what hurts.”

“Can't…” You swallow thickly. Your hands fumble to grab at your leg. “Fuck, c-can't think…I can’t…”

“Stand?”

“Yeah.”

"You fell out of a helicopter, Mutt. It would stand to reason if you were a bit shaken,” he huffs, shifting into a kneeling position with his back to you. “On my back. We gotta keep moving.”

The shock fading a little from your system, you slowly push yourself upright enough to settle against his back.

"Mutt?" You question as your arms fall around his neck. His gloved hands grab under your knees, keeping you secured to his back as he hypes himself up to stand.

"That's what Soap called you, ain't it?" He breathes as he stands. "Some mutt the C.I.A. dragged in."

"Don't tell me…don't tell me that's what I'm stuck with now, after all this."

He scoffs a little, righting himself. "What sticks, sticks, kid."

He barely takes a step forwards before his leg unexpectedly gives. You gasp whenever he stumbles, falling to a knee in the snow.

"Bloody hell…"

"Ghost?" You prompt, worried, as he breathes in and out. The world spins sound for a moment, and his eyes go dazed. Your voice, however, pulls him out of it and your bloodied hand tugging at his ruined vest grounds him back to reality. "Ghost if you're shot, we're fucked."

"I'm not hit," he wheezes, a bold-faced lie. He's been hit in the calf in all the chaos, but it missed any major arteries so he chooses to ignore it for now. Instead, he forces himself shakily back to his feet again. He takes a few wobbly steps before he's walking steadily once more, his limbs feeling heavy as they waft through the freezing snow. "Just old. Can't take a fall like I used to."

You let out a breath that fogs up into the air, quivering from the cold as water drips from everything.

“Okay…okay, good,” you breathe, your hold around him tightening. “Where are we going?”

Simon looks up. The cold bites at his bare face and he squints through the eye black and water that clings to his lashes to look up at the snow and the trees around them. He swallows thickly, his mind cycling through S.E.A.R. training as he fights to stay focused, get to safety.

Safety. Shelter.

You needed shelter.

His gaze sweeps the empty forests with a newfound determination now that he has a goal to focus on; something to work towards. His footsteps slow to a stop as he looks around, the only sound in the forest being the crunching of snow and the buzzing of a far-off A-10 that makes his stomach twist.

But you were alive—and that’s all that mattered to him.

So, he picks up his pace. He presses onwards.

“I don’t know,” He huffs. “But we'll find somewhere."

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