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soaps-mohawk · 5 months

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 19: Daddy Issues

Summary: Your pack is back home, but things aren't quite as good as you try to make them seem. Some truths get revealed, while others remain in the dark.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 9,337 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, '09 Ghost's backstory, mentioned abuse/child abuse, still pretty heavy emotionally, language, finally some of the comfort after the hurt, plenty of fluff

A/N: This stupid fic making me cry again. I may have lied about this one not being quite as heavy as the others...it's still pretty heavy, but there are some sweet moments in there too. There is a bit of a time jump in the middle, it's roughly a week long or so. Not much, but it does cut ahead a bit just for the sake of plot and moving things along. Also yeah, I got it done earlier than expected.

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You’re warm. Sweat has begun to form in the creases of your body. You’re wrapped around something solid, something contributing to the intense warmth. The smell of leather and eucalyptus fills your nose as you nuzzle your face against soft fabric. It sends a shiver down your spine despite the heat, your eyes fluttering open. You’re staring at a blurry mass of black fabric, your brain beginning to catch up as you become more and more aware.

Leather. Eucalyptus. Something distinctly alpha.

Fuck.

You’re spooning Ghost.

He has to be asleep, otherwise he would never let you get so close to him. He would have shoved you off, pushed you back towards Johnny, who you’ve traded places with in the middle of the night. You must have gotten too hot sandwiched between the two betas and tried to escape somewhere cooler. That led to you spooning with Ghost, not that he’s much cooler than the betas.

You can get away before he wakes up, remove yourself from his personal space before he realizes and forces you away. Avoid the shame and embarrassment of his rejection, his anger at you for crossing that boundary, even just in your sleep. Despite the fact you know that boundary is there, despite the fact you did it unintentionally, you’re not sure you could handle such a rejection right now, even from him.

You slowly begin to withdraw your arm from around his middle, sliding it back towards your body. If you go slow enough, you should be able to untangle yourself from around him without waking him and avoid a confrontation.

A quiet gasp is pulled from your lips as his hand wraps around your wrist, keeping you from moving.

“Don’t.” He says quietly.

Your heart is thudding in your chest as he tugs your arm back around him, keeping you where you are. Your exhale is shaky as you slowly relax, pressing your face against his back again. You’re not sure what to do. You were expecting him to push you away, get up in disgust and leave because you got too close, you pushed past the barrier he had placed around himself when it came to you. A barrier that got let down only while you’re training, then it’s put right back up as soon as you’re finished. Now here you are, spooning him after sleeping in the same room, the same nest.

You wouldn’t have taken him for being a little spoon type.

Your eyes begin to droop again as you lay there, breathing in Ghost’s scent. It’s like a comforting blanket, lulling you into a sense of relaxation, of safety, something you haven’t felt in days. For the first time your mind is quiet, not panicking about what happened, or what could happen. You don’t have to worry about your pack now, because they’re here with you again.

You drift off to sleep again for a while, sleeping soundly in the cocoon of safety your pack has provided for you.

You wake a while later, sticky with sweat. Your back is pressed against Ghost’s, and there’s something draped across your face. You push it away, blinking your eyes open. Johnny has starfished across the nest on his back, his mouth open as he snores. He’s stolen your bear, one arm holding it against his chest, and the other arm had been what was draped across your face. Kyle is curled up on his other side, having moved from the middle to the far side of the nest. John is missing, making your brows furrow.

You push yourself up to sit, the air in the room almost like a sauna. You rub your eyes, trying to blink away the sleepiness. That might have been the best sleep you’ve gotten since your heat. It was likely the exhaustion taking its toll, paired with your brain finally being able to relax while surrounded by your pack.

You feel like you could lay down and sleep for another ten hours.

You’re warm, though, sweat causing your clothes to stick to your skin. The blankets have all been kicked to the end of the mattresses, likely ditched early on in the night. You wiggle out of your sweatpants, kicking them off the end of the mattress as well, leaving you in a baggy shirt that you think is Johnny’s.

You feel suddenly exposed sitting there, your eyes flicking around the room as a chill runs down your spine. John would have noticed if something was out of place, but he could have just brushed it off as you in his room. He had given you permission to be in his space while he was gone, if you needed to. One of them would have noticed if things were out of place in their rooms. Ghost would likely notice, since you haven’t been in his room at all.

You lay back down on your back, staring up at the vent on the ceiling. The cover is in place, and no matter how hard you look, you can’t see a camera hiding in the gaps. It doesn’t ease your worry any as you stare up at it, wishing you had your phone so you could at least try to look for one. Though, perhaps it was better you didn’t have your phone with you. You hadn’t been brave enough to pop it open and look for anything strange hidden inside, though you wouldn’t even know where to begin to look, or what to look for.

You should tell them. What if someone is watching you right now?

You flinch as John appears in the doorway suddenly, five water bottles tucked against his chest. Your skin is crawling from the thought of someone watching, someone listening in on such a private moment with you and your pack. You hadn’t even thought about it last night, the stress and your fear had taken over your mind. You push yourself back up to sit as John passes Ghost a water bottle, handing one to you as well. You unscrew the cap as John places the other bottles on his desk. Johnny and Kyle still asleep, unaware of the world.

Unaware of the danger.

A cold shiver slips down your spine as you gulp down the water. What if someone had entered the barracks last night? You weren’t in your room, and the door wasn’t locked. Anyone could have just walked in and put up cameras again easily.

One of the guys would have heard someone snooping around, right? You were so out of it you likely would have slept through one of them getting up. What if they were also so exhausted from their deployment they could have slept through someone breaching their space as well. Did Ghost lock the door last night? You can’t remember.

“Alright, sweetheart?”

Your head snaps up to where John is leaning against his desk. His brows are slightly furrowed as he stares at you, and you realize you’ve been projecting your scent. With them gone, you didn't have to worry as much. You could stink up a room without a care. It just meant more protection for you. Now that they’re back, though, you have to be more careful. You can’t just go panicking over nothing, not that you should have to panic while they’re here.

That’s their job, right? Protect the omega?

They can’t protect you if they don’t know there’s a threat in the first place.

“Yeah.” You say, gulping down more water to think up an excuse quickly. “Thought I might be dreaming for a moment, that you didn't really come back.”

John approaches you slowly, kneeling down on the end of the mattress with a quiet sigh. He has to be sore after their deployment. You can tell just by the way he’s holding his shoulders, by the stiffness in the way he moves. You can’t even begin to imagine the kinds of things they did, the kinds of things they went through over the last week.

John takes your hand, pressing it against his chest. He’s warm underneath the shirt, and you can feel the steady beating of his heart under your palm. “We’re real.” He says, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he holds it against his chest. “We’re really here.”

You stare at his hand where it covers yours. You’ve seen it before, many times. Scarred and rough with calluses. His knuckles are dry and just slightly bruised. Did he punch someone? Or maybe he hit it against something else.

His hand moves, snapping you out of your thoughts. You fight the urge to flinch as he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “You’re thinking too much.”

You swallow thickly. “Well, I didn’t have much to do this last week besides think.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “We’ll try to make life more interesting for you, then.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now, let’s get these two muppets up for breakfast.”

He pushes himself back up to stand, staring down at Johnny and Kyle, still sleeping. You shift onto your hands and knees, crawling over to Johnny before swinging a leg over to straddle his stomach. You lean forward, planting your hands on either side of his face, his breath catching as he begins to wake up, sensing a disturbance. You stare down at him, watching his eyes flutter before they crack open. The haze of sleep leaves his blue eyes, clarity coming back to him quickly as his lips begin to lift in a grin as he stares up at you.

“Didnae expect tae wake up to such a sight.” He says, voice thick with sleep as his hands come to rest on your bare thighs. “A beautiful woman on top of me? I must’ve died and gone tae heaven in my sleep.”

“Even better,” You say, leaning down closer. “Because I’m real.”

“That ye are.” He says, slowly dragging his hands up your legs, pushing the shirt up as he goes.

Ghost pushes himself off the mattress, leaving the room so quickly he nearly knocks his shoulder against the doorframe. A frown pulls at your brows as you watch him go, slowly pushing yourself back up to sit on Johnny’s stomach. Guilt starts to well up in you as you stare at the empty doorway. You hadn’t meant to make him uncomfortable.

“Don’t mind him, kitten.” Johnny says, pushing himself up to sit, sliding you backwards into his lap. “He’s still miffed he didn’t get a greetin’ yesterday.”

“Oh,” You say, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t even thought about greeting Ghost in that moment. You had been so desperate for your alpha, and then swept up by the betas, it hadn’t even crossed your mind to acknowledge Ghost. “I didn’t-”

“It’s not yer fault.” Johnny says, wrapping his arms around you. “He hasnae been the most...open with ye. It’s his own damn fault for it.”

“Oh, well, I’ll be sure to give him a big hug when he comes back in.” You say.

“Please do.” Kyle says, rubbing his eyes where he’s laying next to you. “I’ll pay to see his reaction.”

All three of you burst out laughing, Johnny pressing his forehead against yours. “Missed ye, kitten.”

“Not as much as I missed you.” You say, pouting.

Johnny chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. His hands slide to your hips as he presses another soft kiss to your lips, and then another.

“Let me get in on some of that.” Kyle says, pushing himself up to sit. He grips your chin in his hand, turning your face to his before pressing his lips to yours.

His kiss takes your breath away, deeper and more passionate than Johnny’s had been. You hum against his lips as Johnny’s grip on your waist tightens.

“Christ almighty.” Johnny breathes, staring at you and Kyle as you kiss.

“Alright, you three.” John says as the air in the room starts to turn musky with arousal. “Let’s feed our omega first before we get too carried away.”

Kyle pulls away from you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Can we...eat in here again?” You ask, wrapping an arm around Johnny’s shoulders as you turn slightly to look up at John. You had almost forgotten about his presence, caught up in the attention from your betas. The thought of him watching the three of you has a different kind of thrill racing down your spine.

“Of course.” John says, bending down to kiss you.

Both Johnny and Kyle groan at the sight of their pack alpha kissing you, Johnny’s cock twitching in his boxers beneath you. You press a kiss to Johnny’s cheek after John pulls away from you before pushing yourself up to stand. You stretch your arms over your head, the shirt riding up a bit, giving both Kyle and Johnny a good view of your legs. The musky scent of arousal intensifies in the air as they stare at you, Johnny licking his lips hungrily.

“Alright, get out of here you cheeky little minx, otherwise they’ll never get out of bed.” John says, gently guiding you from the room.

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as you leave John’s room, stepping out into the hallway. It’s much cooler outside of the room, goosebumps forming on your legs. You have half a mind to go back to your own room, but you find yourself unable to even approach the door. Memories of the fear and your panic come flooding back, the thought that someone might have snuck inside, someone might be waiting for you in there snapping to the front of your mind. It’s a ridiculous thought. Someone would have noticed if there was an intruder, if there was someone who shouldn’t be inside creeping around.

Your gaze flickers from your door as Ghost makes his way down the hallway, his clothes changed from what he’d been wearing to sleep in. You bite your lip as you stare at him, meeting his gaze. Perhaps it's the fear driving you forward, or maybe you’ve gone slightly crazy in their absence, but you find yourself approaching him, making him stop in his tracks.

He eyes you as you approach, your steps quick as you try to avoid chickening out. Your mind is repeating Johnny’s words over and over in your head, an explanation for Ghost’s behavior yesterday, and obvious annoyance at you and Johnny this morning. You wonder if he’ll take it as a threat as you get closer to him, if he might snap and defend himself. He’s completely still, not even his chest moving. He’s watching you like a predator watches its prey, waiting for your next move.

It’s like hugging a tree as you wrap your arms around his waist. He’s stiffer than a board as you hug him, resting your face on his chest. Leather and eucalyptus and musk all float around you as you press close to him, his scent enveloping you in a hug, even if his body doesn’t follow suit.

“What are you doing?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest.

“Hugging you.” You say, tightening your hold around him. You’ve been this close to him before in your training, but this feels different. “I’m sorry for not greeting you on the tarmac. I wasn’t really thinking clearly at that point.”

He lets out a quiet sigh, something you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so close to him. You can imagine it’s a sigh of exasperation at Johnny for spilling about his feelings. “It’s fine.” He says, awkwardly patting your back. “Don’t know why you would have wanted to.”

“Well, you are part of the pack.” You say. “That should be enough reason.”

You nuzzle your face against his chest, his scent going straight to the back of your brain. Your omega wants to roll in it, cover herself in it until it’s all you can smell. The intensity of his scent has something in your hindbrain purring, the sound rumbling through your chest.

Ghost puts his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back from him. You blink up at him blearily as your mind begins to clear a bit with the distance. “At least put some pants on before you completely lose it.” He grumbles.

A small smile tugs at your lips before it falls at the thought of having to go into your room. You turn to face the door, your vision almost tunneling as you stare at it. You don’t want to open it. You don’t want to go in there.

“Ghost?” You say quietly before he can walk away.

He turns to look at you, his eyes squinting just slightly as he frowns. “What?”

“Will you...will you open my door for me?” You shift your weight, knowing he’s going to want a reason, an explanation for your behavior.

He turns fully to face you, shoulders squared as he slowly approaches, suddenly on the defensive. “What is it?”

You shake your head. “Just a feeling.”

He steps between you and the door, wrapping his fingers around the handle before he swings it open, scanning the inside. His shoulders relax just slightly and you let out a breath of air. There’s no one inside. No one’s waiting for you. No one broke in last night.

He takes a step back before turning to you. “Nothing.”

You let out a sigh of relief, staring into the space that was once your nest, your safe place. You can feel Ghost’s eyes on you, waiting for an explanation for your behavior. You can’t tell him the truth, despite how easy it would be. You could confess right now, admit to what happened, what you did, the mistake you made. You could drop to your knees right now, beg for forgiveness for what you did.

“It was hard...while everyone was gone.” You say. It’s not a lie. Not entirely. “Made me uneasy, being alone here. Kept thinking I was hearing things.”

He doesn’t believe you. You can see it in his eyes. He knows your lying, he knows you’re withholding the truth from him. You aren’t, you just aren’t giving him the whole truth. You had felt lonely, you had been on edge even before General Shepherd arrived and your room was bugged. Being alone was hard. Harder than you thought it would be. It would have taken its toll on you, even without the stress of your space being invaded multiple times.

You should have told someone. You should have called Dr. Keller right away. You should have never opened the door in the first place.

“Thank you.” You say, slipping past him and entering your room.

He stands there for a few breaths, watching you warily as you open your closet, looking for something to wear. You ignore him, acting like he’s not there, but you can’t hide the squaring of your shoulders, the stiffness of your movements. You’re not sure you could resist if he pressed, if he tried to force you to tell him. You’d spill immediately, even without him using his alpha against you.

The thought has another chill racing down your spine.

Your omega is on edge as you change with the door open, not caring as the guys move around, getting dressed to head out to grab breakfast for everyone. You hate how inconvenient it must be, but you still don’t think you could handle being in the mess. Not yet. Not so soon. You’ll have to eventually, otherwise they’ll think something is up, happened, and then they’ll start questioning.

You couldn’t handle an interrogation. Especially not their disappointed and angry faces when you confess to what you did, the mistakes you made, how you allowed someone to walk in so easily. How you left so easily with a stranger. They’d never trust you again.

They won’t trust you if you keep things from them either.

They have to know. They have to know General Shepherd came to base and talked to you. They have to know about you meeting their superior while they were away. A high ranking General couldn’t just be on base without someone knowing, and why would he hide it? He had come to check in on your progress and how you were settling in with your pack. He would have included your pack in that questioning as well, right? Besides, there has to be cameras everywhere on base. Someone would have seen you and let them know.

There’s no way they don’t know about it.

You stand in the doorway of your bathroom, staring at the cabinet where the broken cameras and recording devices are hidden. They’re broken, you ensured that. They’re hidden away, buried under enough stuff no one could find them unless they were purposefully looking for something.

You let out a breath, trying to relax as you finish your morning routine. It’s over. There’s nothing that can be done now. All you can do is try to move on, try to mend the fraying bonds with your pack, heal the sense of fear and unease surrounding your safe space.

Maybe Dr. Keller could help. You could admit everything to her, everything that happened while she was supposed to be watching you. If you had just gone to her office that afternoon, perhaps things would have been different. She would have known, but that wouldn’t have stopped the cameras from being put up. It would have just made it easier for them. Maybe they might have finished the job properly, and you wouldn’t have even known. Even if you had called Dr. Keller, what kind of argument could she have made against a Commanding Officer?

If you told Dr. Keller now, she’d tell your pack. She’s promised to keep everything between you confidential, but would something like this be an exception? Would she tell your pack anyway because she thinks it’s the best course of action to help you?

You want to cry. Tears are welling in your eyes as you stare in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself. You look tired, strung out, sickly almost. Are you not, though? Is that not how you feel? You know omegas can get sick from stress sometimes, if it gets to be too much. You don’t want to get sick. You don’t want to be more of a burden than you’re already being. They have to be so tired after their assignment, and here you are making things harder for them.

“You alright, love?”

You jump, letting out a shriek as you whip around to face the door of your room. Your heart is racing as you slap a hand over your mouth, staring wide-eyed at an equally surprised Kyle. You let out a breath, slowly lowering your trembling hand as you try to calm yourself. It’s just Kyle sneaking up on you. Not a stranger.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He says, brows pinching in a frown.

“‘S okay.” You murmur, turning off the light before leaving the bathroom. “Was lost in thought.”

“The others left to grab food.” Kyle says. “They’ll be back shortly.”

You nod, trying hard not to make your trembling too visible, or give any hint at your discomfort. “Okay.”

You stare at him as he leans against the doorframe. He hasn’t entered your room. He’s still standing in the doorway. The thought has a lump forming in your throat. Your bonds have frayed so much he doesn’t even feel comfortable entering your space anymore. There’s a wall up again, and you’re only forcing it higher and higher.

“Come on.” He says, holding his hand out to you. “Let’s go to the rec room.”

You take his offered hand, letting him pull you from your room. The door clicks closed behind you as you let him lead you down the hallway and away from the place that’s become fuel for your nightmares.

Kyle sits down on the couch, pulling you down on his lap. You wrap your arm around his neck as he wraps his arms around you, enveloping you in his warmth and scent.

“I’m sorry for startling you.” He says softly, bringing your other hand to his lips so he can press a kiss to your wrist.

“It’s not your fault.” You say, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Been on edge since everyone left.”

“I bet.” Kyle leans his cheek against the top of your head. “We’re here now. We’re gonna fix that.”

“What happens when you have to leave again?” You ask.

“You won’t be alone again, that’s for sure.” A different voice says.

You nearly jump out of Kyle’s lap as John appears in the doorway of the rec room, Johnny and Ghost right behind him. Kyle’s arms are the only thing keeping you steady as your heart nearly beats out of your chest. You’re not sure how much more you can take, intentionally or unintentionally.

“I spoke with Kate this morning.” John says as he sets the food he’s carrying on the coffee table. “We’re going to do everything in our power to avoid having you left alone again. At least one of us will be staying behind with you from now on.”

Your brows pinch a little. Is that why he had been absent from the nest earlier? You’re not quite sure what to feel. On one hand you’re relieved at the thought of not having to be alone again, but on the other hand, you don’t want to disrupt their lives, their jobs. You wonder just how hard he had to fight to even get Kate to agree to something like this.

You also feel a bit afraid that they know, they figured out what had happened and that’s the reason they don’t trust to leave you alone again. You’ll make another stupid mistake or another risky decision that might cause you actual harm next time.

Kyle eases you off his lap and onto the couch beside him. Johnny sits on your other side, squishing you between them as a tray is passed into your hands. You don’t feel very hungry as you stare down at the food, but you know after a meager dinner last night, you need to eat. You won’t be doing you or your pack any favors by being hungry.

It’s quiet in the rec room as you eat. It’s almost eerie how silent it is, aside from the occasional scrape of silverware on the trays. You begin to float back into the time when they were gone, the haunting silence that had settled over the barracks in their absence. Everything had seemed so still, not peaceful, but more like the very walls were holding their breath.

Perhaps it was in anticipation for what was to come. Perhaps somehow the very walls knew they would be beached, the safety they once promised would be upended.

Or maybe you’ve just gone crazy.

You shift forward on the couch, careful not to tip your tray over as you grab the remote from the coffee table, turning the TV on.

“Finally! I couldnae handle the silence much longer.” Johnny exclaims, letting out a relieved sigh.

The corners of your lips pull up in a smile as you pass the remote off to him, letting him search for something bearable to watch on early morning TV. You’re glad at least you weren’t alone in your distaste for the silence. You curl up closer to Gaz, reminding yourself that it’s not a dream, that they really are here. They really did come back.

Now you just have to move on and put the nightmare of what happened behind you.

As the days pass, things begin to return to normal. The guys start their normal routine of training and running drills almost immediately. To avoid being stuck in the barracks alone, you ask to go with them, blaming it on the distance and your need to be clingy still. At first you were afraid someone would take advantage of the barracks being empty again, but every search has come up empty handed. No more cameras, no more recording devices.

Whoever it was who planted them must have given up, or perhaps the risk of doing it with the entire pack back on base was too high.

Despite this fact, you spend the least amount of time in your room as possible. Even when you can’t go to watch them train or run drills, you spend your time in John’s room, or in the rec room. At night you rotate between John, Kyle, and Johnny, opting to sleep with them over spending a night alone in your room.

As you discussed, you begin seeing Dr. Keller twice a week. You’re not quite sure what she told John to convince him it was necessary, but whatever it was, it hadn’t given away any of your secrets. It probably hadn’t taken much to convince him to say yes, given your current state and his worry about you.

You know he’s worried. You can see it when he looks at you, like you might snap if he stares too hard. You’ve seen the way his hands twitch when Johnny holds you too tightly or gets too rough in his affection, like he’s worried you might shatter.

It’s reassuring to see the distance has not just affected you. Johnny holds you tighter than he used to, Kyle stands closer to you like he’s trying to fuse you both into one. Even Ghost has started hovering closer, using his hands to steer you and guide you when you’re around others that aren’t part of your pack.

You’ve started eating in the mess again, knowing you can only avoid it for so long before they’ll start getting suspicious and asking questions. You still feel paranoid, being around the other soldiers on base. You can’t help but be suspicious that it was one of them that planted the cameras, that it was one of them that tried to get into your room that night. Who would willingly breach such sacred ground and invade an omega’s space like that, you couldn’t even begin to guess.

Sure, some of them still stare at you, but most of them now ignore your existence. You’re no longer a spectacle, not after a few weeks on base, not that you’re a claimed omega now.

That won’t stop some alphas.

Going up against your pack, though? That would take one hell of a cocksure alpha.

Just like the one that invaded your safe space.

It had to have been an alpha. Sure, that beta soldier had entered the barracks, but to go so far as to put up cameras and try to come back and get into your room? That takes a special kind of audacity, something only an alpha could possess.

So life has gone back to normal, or at least as normal as it can be after what happened.

The return to normal hasn’t all been good, though. Your nightmares have returned, coming on quickly as soon as you began to settle into routine again. The real nightmare has passed, so now your mind has to plague itself with nightmares that have already happened. Things that can’t even hurt you anymore.

You start avoiding sleep again, despite your work with Dr. Keller, too afraid to risk having a nightmare in front of one of them again. The last thing you need is to have to spill about your nightmare. You might not be able to stop and wind up spilling about what happened while they were gone too.

Unfortunately, things don’t work that way. They never work that way for you.

Someone is screaming. Your body feels like it’s being constricted by a snake, crushing and painful as you’re clutched desperately against your mother’s chest. She’s the one that’s screaming, the sound hurting your ears. Your face is pressed against her shoulder, into the softness of her sweater. It’s the pink one, the one she made. Her favorite.

There’s knocking coming from somewhere, a door handle jiggling. It’s locked, but you can hear someone trying to get in, multiple people based on the voices from the other side. You don’t know who it is. You don’t recognize any of them. You can’t even make out what it is their saying, if they’re saying anything at all. The voices sound more like the unintelligible roar of monsters, the ones you used to be afraid of as a child.

Everything is muted by the blood pulsing in your ears, drowning out everything but the jiggling of the door handle. Someone’s trying to break in. Someone is breaking in. You can make out the thuds against the door, the desperate attempts to get inside, to get to you.

The arms around you tighten, pressing your face harder into the soft yarn of the sweater. You inhale the familiar scent of brown sugar and vanilla, the scent surrounding you and enveloping you in a sense of safety. Nothing can get you. Nothing can hurt you.

That’s not true, though. You know it’s not.

There’s a bang as the door is finally forced open, the screaming getting louder as footsteps enter the room. You’re shaking, trembling in your mother’s arms as she clings to you desperately, just like you used to cling to her when you thought there was a monster under your bed.

The monsters were real, you realize as you desperately cling to your mother, just as tightly as she’s clinging to you.

Hands grab at you, claws digging into your skin, tentacles wrapping around your body, trying to pull you from your mother’s grip. You can hear her pleading, begging, screaming at them not to take you, not to separate you. You’ll never see her again if they manage to pull you from her. They’ll take you away, hide you away, keep you from the warm comfort of her embrace.

You let out a scream of your own as you’re yanked from her grasp, your arms reaching for her as the monsters pull you from the source of your safety and comfort. The last thing you see is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door slams in your face.

A scream tears from your lips as you’re pulled from sleep suddenly. You’re falling, hitting the tile floor with a thud. Your shoulder cracks against the unforgiving floor, making you yelp. The blanket has tangled around your legs, rendering you immobile from the waist down.

The frantic pounding of boots on the floor meets your ears, seconds before the four members of your pack are sprinting into the rec room. Their faces look just as frantic as their steps had been, concern laced with fear laced with worry. You hadn’t even realized they’d returned already. They had been at their afternoon drills while you stayed in the rec room watching TV, slowly succumbing to the exhaustion that’s been plaguing you.

“What is it? What happened?” Kyle asks, moving to step forward but John beats him to it.

“Fell off the couch.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit, wincing at the pain in your shoulder. There’s tears sliding down your cheeks despite you fighting the remnants of your terror and pain from the nightmare.

“I think there’s more to it than that.” John says, kneeling down in front of you.

You want to confess everything. How you haven’t been sleeping well for weeks now since your heat, how you keep having horrible nightmares about your past, what happened while they were away, how the nightmares have returned. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at John, the tears sliding down your cheeks as you give up trying to control them. Guilt plagues you as you stare at the worried face of your alpha. He just wants to help you, he just wants to take care of you, but he can’t if you’re keeping things from him, if you’re lying to his face.

“I had a nightmare.” You say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You clutch your arm to your chest, trying not to move your shoulder too much.

John lets out a quiet sigh, his fingers lifting to press against your shoulder, feeling around the joint. You wince as he hits a tender spot, the pain sharp, but not horrible. You’ve certainly felt worse things.

He turns to the others behind him, all of them staring at you with equally worried looks on their faces. “Get me an ice pack.” He says before turning back to you.

He lifts you off the floor, placing you back on the couch before untangling the blanket from around your legs. Johnny grabs an ice pack as Kyle moves to sit next to you on the couch, draping his arm across the back, projecting his scent to try and help you relax. John sits on the edge of the coffee table, staring at you. Despite the worry still present on his face, his eyes are sharp. You can’t help but feel like you’re suddenly in an interrogation. They’ve done this before, probably many times, though likely not as gently as they are now. You’re terrified still at the way they shift so easily into the mindset of a soldier. You can’t even imagine what it would be like if they were serious in their interrogation of you.

“How long have you been having nightmares?” John asks as Johnny takes a seat on the other side of you, passing you the ice pack.

You press it against your shoulder, trying to keep your thoughts straight. You have to try not to spill anything, try not to confess to all of your sins, all of your stupid mistakes now. Your gaze drops to your lap, avoiding the looks of the two alphas staring at you. Ghost has moved to stand behind John, his arms crossed as he watches the exchange. You can feel the pressure of their gaze, the sharpness of it digging into your skin like knives.

“A couple weeks.” You admit, unable to even think of a lie. You don’t want to lie now, not with them staring at you so intensely. They’d know. They’d be able to tell before the words even left your mouth. “Since my heat ended.”

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding sleeping?” John asks.

You wince at his question. Of course he noticed. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been trained to notice weaknesses in others, gauge the capabilities of his men. Of course he’d notice you’re more tired than usual, not sleeping quite as much. He probably even knew all the times you woke up in the night when you slept next to him.

You nod, still staring at your lap, too afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He breathes, almost sounding upset.

You’ve made a mistake in keeping this a secret. You regret it as soon as you hear the emotion in his voice. He thinks you don’t trust them, he thinks you don’t trust your alpha. You need to tell him. You need to tell him everything, but the fear keeps you paralyzed. How much more upset will he be when you confess that you kept such a major event from him, from all of them?

A quiet sob leaves your lips as you sit there, terrified of the reprimanding you’re sure to get. The shame burns hot in you, the reminder that you’ve disappointed them. You’ve let them down and now they won’t even trust you to tell them anything.

“We’re not mad at you, sweetheart.” Gaz says, shifting his arm so it’s wrapped around your shoulders, his thumb brushing the hand that’s holding the ice pack to your shoulder. Johnny shifts just slightly closer to you, both of the betas projecting their scent around you, trying to cocoon you in their comforting presence.

“I just want to know why you felt it necessary to hide something like that from us.” John says, his voice softer than it had been before.

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You find the words spilling out before you can stop them. Maybe it’s the exhaustion or the fear or your brain finally getting tired of holding everything in. This is your moment to let out a little steam, to finally release some of the pressure that’s been building. “My nightmares are nothing compared to the ones you all probably have and it’s stupid and I shouldn’t even be having them, it’s been years since the last time I dreamed like this, and I don’t even know why they’ve come back now.”

“No nightmares are stupid.” Ghost says, stepping up closer to the coffee table.

“We’re here to help you.” John says, leaning his elbows on his knees. “We can’t do that if you don’t tell us what’s going on.”

Guilt burns through you at his words. He’s right. You should be honest with them, tell them everything. They can’t help you, they can’t keep you safe even from the things that plague your mind if they don’t know about them.

“What are the dreams about?” John asks, blue eyes boring holes into you.

You feel small under his gaze, like you're a child again, facing down your father after doing something wrong, after making a mistake. You have made a mistake, though. You’re facing the consequences of your mistake right now.

“The day I left for the institute.” You say quietly, voice hardly more than a whisper but you know they heard you in the silence of the barracks. It feels threatening, like the walls are silently vowing to tell the truth if you don’t.

Your pack shifts a bit at your words, sharing looks amongst themselves. They have to know what it’s like, or at least heard stories about the trauma of being pulled from your pack to be taken to a strange place, surrounded by others just like you.

“What happened that day?” Ghost asks, staring down at you.

You can feel his gaze piercing into you, screaming the silent threat that you’re going to tell them, no matter how long they have to sit here and wait. You don’t have a choice anymore. You have to tell them.

You’re warm. The ice pack pressed against your forehead does little to soothe the burning under your skin. You’re thirsty, the two empty plastic bottles on your nightstand were not enough to ease the dryness in your mouth.

Hands shift the ice pack, pressing it against your cheek. Your mother is there, seated next to your bed diligently. She’s crying, tears sliding down her cheeks, quiet sniffles breaking the silence in the house.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, bringing your hand to her lips. “I’m so sorry,” She apologizes, as if it’s her fault, as if she brought this onto you.

She gasps quietly as the door opens, her back stiffening as your father enters. His face is stern, mouth almost twisted with disgust as he stares at you. It feels wrong, having him invade your space. If you’d had the energy, perhaps you would have been brave enough to protest his presence.

“Come on.” His voice is gruff, worn down from years of smoking and yelling. “Get up.”

“No, please-” Your mother attempts to reason with him, but he won’t have it.

“Shut up and sit down.” He snaps at her, and she has no choice but to sit back and be silent. His voice has something tingling in the back of your neck, almost like a warning. There’s nothing you can do, though. You’re far too weak.

He moves to the side of your bed, grabbing your arm and pulling you up from the comfort of your blankets. The ice pack falls from your head, your skin prickling with warmth almost like it hadn’t been there in the first place. Your brain is sluggish as you try to comprehend what’s happening, your legs giving out as you’re forced upright. You can’t get your body to work, you can’t even force yourself to behave. You want to crawl back under your blankets and lay there for the rest of eternity.

You whine as you’re dragged from your room, knees knocking on the floor as you attempt to get your feet under you to ease the pain in your shoulder. Your father drags you into the living room, two people you don’t recognize standing next to the front door.

“Please, please don’t do this!” Your mother pleads with him, right on his heels as he drops you in a heap in front of them. He catches her before she can rush forward to you. How you wish you could have her arms around you again, holding you and comforting you in your confusion.

“Enough.” Your father snaps at her, looking down at you with disgust. “She’s no daughter of mine.”

You blink up at him, the words seering through the haze, registering in your foggy mind. Tears gather in your eyes as you stare up at your parents, your siblings watching tensely from the living room as the scene unfolds before them.

“No, no!” You cry as hands close around your arms, lifting you from the floor. “Mama!” You scream, trying to fight them as you’re pulled from your home, your safe space, your family, your pack.

Your mother is yelling, fighting against your father’s hold around her, but it’s useless. He’s stronger. He wants this, so no one is going to stop him. She’ll pay later for her actions, her disagreement with him. You won’t be here to see it, though. You’re leaving and you won’t be coming back.

The last thing you see as the cool air outside washes over your feverish skin is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door closes, locking you out forever.

You’re dragged into the back of a van parked in the driveway. Two men in uniform climb in behind you before the doors are slammed shut. You curl up in the corner, sobbing uncontrollably. You want your mom, you want to be back in the safety of her arms, the warmth and comforting softness that only she can provide.

One of the men approaches you, a needle in his hand. You whimper in fear, pressing further back into the corner as he gets closer to you. He forces you down onto your stomach, the pain brief as he injects you with the sedative before he moves back to take his seat. You curl up in a ball, quietly sobbing as the drugs begin to work, your vision going hazy before you’re forced into unconsciousness.

“I woke up hours later at the institute.” You say, wiping at the tears streaming down your cheeks, but it does little against the cascade of tears falling from your eyes. “Never saw or spoke to my family again. They didn’t even try to reach me, and I know my dad was the reason why. He hated me as soon as I presented.”

“Fucking hell.” Ghost breathes, hands curled into fists at his sides. You can smell the intensity of his scent above everything, the burning ozone of anger rolling off of him. It makes you wince, even though you know it’s not directed at you.

“That’s why he wanted to send you so quickly.” Kyle says, his arm tightening around you.

“How did he get you into FIOT so soon after your presentation?” John asks.

You shrug your good shoulder. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know he’d be sending me, much less so soon until it was happening.”

“Christ,” Johnny breathes, gently taking your hand in his. “No wonder yer havin’ nightmares, kitten.”

“I haven’t had this nightmare since I arrived at the institute. They started there, lasted a few weeks while I adjusted to being there.” You sniffle. “Haven’t had them since, until now. Dr. Keller says it’s because I finally feel safe enough to process the trauma of it happening.”

John sits up a little straighter. “Is that why she suggested seeing you multiple times a week?”

You nod. “We’re working on it. I asked her not to tell you, because I did plan on telling you eventually.”

“I’m glad you told someone, at least,” He says. “And I’m glad you finally told us too. We might not be able to stop the nightmares, but at least now we can help support you in whatever way you need.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” You say, squeezing Johnny’s hand slightly. He was the only one that knew you were having nightmares, but you hadn’t even confessed to him what was going on out of fear he’d tell the others.

“It’s alright, sweet girl.” John says, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad it finally came out and now we can help you.” He wipes the tears from your cheeks, his thumb brushing your skin gently.

The moment is broken as your stomach growls impatiently. It’s past your normal dinner time, your confession having kept you longer than you thought it would. You hadn’t gotten in your afternoon snack either, your body having chosen to nap instead.

A small smile tugs at John’s lips. “Hungry, love?”

You nod. “Yeah. Didn’t get my snack.”

“We’ll go get some food and bring it here, how does that sound?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

He pushes himself up to stand, his knees cracking as he does. You fight the urge to say something, squeezing Johnny’s hand tightly.

“I’ll stay.” Ghost says, still looking at you.

John looks down at you and you meet Ghost’s gaze for a moment before nodding. John presses another kiss to your head, Johnny and Kyle pressing kisses to your cheeks before they get up, leaving the rec room to get dinner for everyone.

Ghost moves from his spot on the other side of the coffee table, sinking down at the end of the couch. You fight the urge to stare at him in surprise. You’re not sure you’ve seen him sit anywhere but in the chair the entire time you’ve been here.

It’s silent between the two of you for a few moments, aside from the occasional sniffle from you. You wipe the remaining tears from your face, removing the melted ice pack from your shoulder, tossing it on the coffee table. This feels very familiar to you, this position. You’ve been here before, back when you punched the asshole alpha who insulted you.

“My dad was a real asshole.”

You turn your head slightly in surprise when Ghost break’s the silence suddenly. He’s not looking at you, his gaze distant, far away. You know that look well. You’ve seen it on him before, and also on a few omegas at the institute. You’re sure it’s graced your face as well many times.

“He was a trad alpha, real piece of shit who couldn’t control his anger. Took it out on all of us. My mum, my brother, me.” He scoffs. “Mum took the brunt of it, but Tommy and I faced our fair share of it too. He used to bring dangerous animals home and taunted us with them. Made me kiss a snake once. He did all kinds of horrible things to us.” His voice softens a bit in a way you’ve never heard before. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable, not even when he told you about his own nightmares. “I’ve never wanted an omega, because of the things my dad did to my mum. I never wanted a pack either, but...maybe something deep down in me did because I said yes to this whole experiment.”

The silence hangs heavy between you for a moment. You’re not sure what to say, or if you can even manage to say anything in response to what he’s just told you. You had no idea what his life was like growing up, except that he was also a purebred.

“I was always too afraid the cycle would continue, that I’d turn out to be another piece of shit, just like my dad.” He says.

“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit.” You say, your voice cracking a bit.

He huffs out a breath. “Thanks.” He stares down at the coffee table, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Did your dad ever hit you?”

You shake your head. “Never directly. He got rough sometimes, grabbing us, squeezing too hard, yanking us around. He never stopped my brothers when they got too rough, though. They liked to wrestle, and I wanted to join because I wanted to spend time with my cooler older brothers. Sometimes they’d forget I was smaller than them and I got hurt a couple times. He never reprimanded them when it happened. I think he enjoyed it more than anything. He mostly just yelled a lot.”

“Trad alphas only speak the language of yelling and violence.” He says. “If my father wasn’t screaming at us, his fists were getting the message across. Sometimes he’d do both at the same time.” Ghost shakes his head. “Real pieces of shit, trad alphas. Makes me sick, the kinds of things they believe in.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to you.” You say, fishing for anything to follow up his confession with. Nothing feels right, nothing feels like enough.

He shrugs. “It happened. It’s in the past. He died a few years ago. Left nothing but a stain behind.”

“What happened to your mom and brother?” You ask.

“Tommy got into drugs for a while, but he cleaned up and got married. Mum lives with him now. Still doing well.” He says.

You’re surprised by his words. You’ve always heard that omegas don’t last long without their alphas. But what if their alpha was an asshole? Is the relief of their death enough to scrub out the grief of losing your alpha?

You stare at the side of Ghost’s head, your heart thudding in your chest. You feel sorry for him, but at the same time, you’re grateful he shared this with you. You have much more in common than you thought you did with the giant aloof alpha. Maybe, perhaps, this can be a way for the two of you to grow closer, maybe you finally have common ground that you can share with him to get him to open up to you more. You know he wants it. The revelation of his disappointment at your lack of greeting, and the fact he let you hug him is enough to tell you he wants something more with you. It might never breach the realm of romance or even a casual fling, but you can’t deny the bond is there. You can feel it, the tugging in your chest as you look at him, the butterflies in your stomach when he puts a hand on your back to steer you through the crowd in the mess.

You want him to want you. You want him to open up, to peel the layers back and bare his very soul to you. He’s already started. This confession is the beginning of that kind of bond between you. That he trusts you enough to tell you this makes something flutter in your chest.

If only he knew you were keeping something worse from him.

You could tell him. Confess to him right here, right now. Spill it all in this sort of mock confessional, this mock therapy session between you. He’ll be mad, but perhaps after everything that’s transpired today, he’ll be lenient. You’re not sure you could say the same about John, though.

“Ghost, I-” You start but he cuts you off.

“Simon.”

“What?” You breathe, blinking in shock as he turns to face you.

“My name. It’s Simon.”

NEXT ->

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nanivinsmoke · 2 months

Text

✩ Both Ain’t Shit

dilf!toji x fem!reader

♪ tender was the kiss when you held me captive….

he lying to me im lying to him…. ♪

warnings : features suguru geto & utahime, cheating, toji is married and has a child, age gap (late 20s late 30s), angst, cursing, break up-sex, mutual affair, slut shaming, pussy eating, blow job, face sitting, creampies, squirting, half a happy ending (?), mentions gojo and shoko, etc….

✩ notes: wc ~ 4.9k, finally gave yall a oneshot with a plot! and i seen the results for the poll for lost without you and im getting to it, dont yall worry—i got yall for real.

lying. I guess that’s what this whole relationship was made of. nothing but lies.

that’s how you ended up here, lying to him.

you hated liars, but this lie just felt so good.

“sh-sh…shit toji! please, don’t st—“ your eyes rolled back and you grinded on his face, cumming all over his scarred lips; as he sucked on your clit like he was an old person that found some butterscotch.

your legs shook, his lips still attached to your sensitive clit, working you to another orgasm; but much to your dismay his phone started to ring. you groaned and quickly removed yourself from his face, knowing exactly who was calling him at this hour.

grunting when he sat up, the older man reached and answered his phone, watching you as you began to get dressed. “yeah baby, im coming home right now….i'll pick up some diapers—alright, love you too.” he hung up, eyes focused on as you struggled to pull your light blue jeans over your ass.

“i can help you with, c’mere~” he flirted, pulling you close by your jean’s belt loop holes. you rolled your eyes and pulled away, jumping to finally get them up. “don’t you gotta get some diapers? go help with that. besides, I gotta get home before geto comes back.”

he sucked his teeth at your remark and started putting his own clothes on, ignoring his own hard on, “I don’t see why you still with him. he don’t even make you happy.”

“oh? you’re one to talk. remember why we broke up in the first place? only for you to go do what I wanted with her….” he was silent, the only thing that could be heard was the two of you moving around the apartment. both of you always came here whenever you wanted to get away from your partners, which always led to hot, sticky sex.

“oh. and don’t ask my why i'm still with him, when you’re still with her. did you forget that? cat got your tongue?” you egged on, watching his facial expression change. he slipped on his shirt and grabbed his keys, before brushing past you. “whatever, y/n.”

you turned the key into your townhouse’s door, slipping your shoes off and placing the key on the nearby island’s, marble countertop. “geto?” you yelled out, only to not receive an answer. you noticed some take out on the counter and walked over to it, while taking your phone off do not disturb—seeing a message from your boyfriend.

✩ ‘staying at gojo’s tonight, he’s having a get together with some old friends. hope you had fun at utahime’s. ordered you some dinner, goodnight my love and see you at work tomorrow’

you swallowed your guilt along with a spoonful of fried rice as you finished reading his message. a guilty heart only leads to disaster and disappointment, and right now you didn’t have time for either. you had your reasons for cheating, none of them forgivable, but you had them. one of reasons were that you were still in love with your ex. you hadn’t gotten over the breakup and yes, you should just break up with geto, but just thinking what he would say or do was killing you and you don’t think you would be able to handle that. so you stayed, cheating with the one who broke your heart.

after eating the food geto got for you, you turned on your shower and started slipping off your clothes—cringing when you peeled off your cold, sticky panties. your were soaked and flashbacks from earlier, turned you on.

you typed on your phone, sending a text message to toji’s second number and telling him how wet he made you—and that you were disappointed that he didn’t let you cum all over his dick. stepping into the shower you let the coursing hot water drip all over your body, washing away your guilt as the lust increased inside your body.

finishing your shower off with an electric ending and getting yourself ready for bed, your phone chimed with a text from toji.

✩ ‘pretty girl always wet for me. ill stretch her out soon’

your clit throbbed at his message and you quickly sent one back.

✩ ‘he’s not here tonight, you can come over and put that to fruition.’

he immediately liked the message and texted back that he was on his way. no longer than ten minutes later, he was here; wearing a black tee that hugged his muscular torso and your favorite pants of his—grey nike sweatpants. the man was fueled with need for you.

closing the door behind him, he picked you up with ease and sat you on top of your kitchen’s island; big rough hands immediately going underneath your t-shirt. his scarred lips turned up into a smirk, loving how wet you were for him and when his finger ran over your clit; he loved the way you jolted at his touch.

as toji kneeled down, you stopped him by holding his head with your hand. “toji….dont tease me—please just put it in already.~”

“shut up. if I wanna taste my pretty girl then i'm going to. she misses me—mhm” he dove straight into your middle, swiping his tongue between your slit and tasting your sweet silky fluids. you tossed your head back and gripped his raven locks as he ate you out with such precision. and when he added two of his fingers to the mix, stretching you out, it wasn’t long before you came—all over his face. you squirted, drenching his face with your sweet nectar.

this was your first time squirting for him and devilish smirk appeared on his face. “you could do that this whole time? don’t tell me, you’ve been squirting for him?” he sent a smack to your quivering cunt, making you yelp out. you and geto haven’t had sex in a while and when you guys did get in the mood, it was always something simple; like blow jobs or cock warming. maybe that’s another reason why you’re cheating…

“n-no, i guess i…—yes!—i just missed you….don’t stop toji, g’nna cum again~” he drilled his fingers back inside of you mid sentence, working another powerful orgasm out of you, ending it with the same result as before—with you squirting on him once more. he slurped up every last bit of your essence before removing himself from between your legs and pulling his gray sweatpants down—revealing his girth.

your eyes fluttered down to his cock, the glow of sticky precum on his pretty tip had your mouth salivating. “turn around,” he ordered while pumping his cock and you immediately got into his favorite position. you got on your hands and knees, ass up high in the air with your legs spread, so he could see your slick coated cunt in all its glory.

he pulled a hiss from your lips when he pushed his head through your tightness, you arched your back up too high for him, earning a smack to your plump cheeks. “lower it~” he grunted and you whined, slowly lowering your back down into the perfect arch.

“‘s..too big—shit, take some out please daddy~” you felt another stinging sensation to your ass and you whined some more. “you can take it—smack—now quit yer whining—smack—and let daddy make this cunt his again~,” with each smack, he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside of your sopping wet pussy; filing you to the brim was his cock.

he stayed like the for a moment, feelin pity on you before he pulled out and slammed himself back inside of you again; a scream crawling out of your mouth. he repeated the action, your walls clinging to him with each stroke, driving him insane. mewls spilled out of your mouth as his tip rubbed against that sensitive spongy spot, making you clench frantically around him.

“must’ve really missed me, hm? creamin all on my dick—fuck!” he held onto your hips, watching the cream build up, making his tan cock a nice shade of milky white.

the sound of your cunt squelching with each stroke drove the both of you crazy, minds fucked out with arousal. feeling that ball in your stomach increase with each pleasure-filled second. you pushed your ass back harder against him while reaching down to fondle his potent balls—egging on his orgasm. toji let out a loud grunt, his green eyes darting to your pretty face.

“so fucking good—please fill me up daddy, please~.” you begged, breathless as you looked at him from over your shoulder with hooded eyes, lashes fluttering.

“that’s what you want? want me to fill my pretty girl up—make you swollen with my seed? hm?” he pulled your head back by entangling his fingers into your hair, each stroke deepening as a result. you nodded frantically, and he pressed his lips roughly against yours, hips slamming into your ass repeadlty—clapping sounds echoing throughout the room. with each passing second and each stroke, your orgasm approached faster and faster; and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

your eyes rolled back as you gushed all over him, pushing him right out of your leaking cunt; your fluids soiling the bottom of his shirt and his sweatpants. he grabbed his throbbing cock and pushed right back into you, his pace hard and faster.

“making a mess all over my dick, just makes me want to breed your pussy some more.~” with a few more strokes, he painted your inner walls with his thick, pearly-white load, and a wave of euphoria washed over you. his cock twitched inside of you, and he grunted into your ear, pulling himself out and plunging his fingers into your sticky hole.

“gonna make you squirt over and over again, and im going to make sure there’s a kid in you by the end of the night. get that ass in the bedroom.~” he growled and helped you off the island, smacking your ass in the process.

the long, raven haired woman walked lazily over to the door, wondering who the fuck was pounding on it like a mad man, and when she opened it her face dropped. “suguru, what are you doing here?”

he leaned against the door frame smiling, letting himself into her house, kicking his shoes off by the door. “what’s the matter hime’, you didn’t miss me?” he held her by her waist, gripping her smaller backside into his hands. utahime shook her head, lying, stepping back to readjust her robe.

“you shouldn’t be here. does y/n know you’re here?” she asked, folding her arms underneath her breasts. he pulled her over to her brown soft sofa, and sat her on his lap, “no, does she know you liked to be fucked raw by her boyfriend?” her honey brown eyes widened and she looked elsewhere. “no…”

utahime was your best friend since forever, she kept your secrets and you kept her’s. she was your scapegoat when you wanted to go see toji, she considered herself to be a girls girl, despite sleeping with your boyfriend every other night. this little secret relationship started when geto popped up at her house one time, looking for you because you left your work badge at home. but, when he didn’t see your car outside and you weren’t inside either, he realized that you had lied.

it didn’t take long for him to put two and two together, and he figured out that you were lying from the start. he didn’t know what you were doing nor did he care, he just knew you had hurt him by lying. utahime took pity to him that night, she didn’t give you up, but she still felt for him. she hated seeing him hurt, and the way his eyes lost emotion, pained her. so, she pitied him in the best way she knew how; sex.

and here she was, about to pity him again for the third night in a row. she looked into his eyes and pressed her lips against his, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see his. she pulled away, a wave of heat washed over her and a trail of spit followed, she was breathless. utahime undid her robe, revealing her beautiful nude body. “make love to me geto~”

and that’s what he did, for the rest of the night, until sunrise.

“class is dismissed! papers are due friday and there will be no assignments for the weekend. see you until then!” you dismissed your class, watching the room empty out before you turned to dust off your chalkboard.

the muscular male eased into your lecture hall, tip toeing his way down, so you wouldn’t hear him; standing at the bottom to watch how good your ass looked in your pencil skirt, jiggling as you struggled to reach the top of the blackboard.

“need some help?” toji’s deep voice alerted you, making you stumble and drop the chalk filled eraser—causing the powder to fly everywhere. he chuckled and watched your pretty face turn into a frown. he was now in front of you and helped you dust off your outfit, sneaking in some loving grabs to your boobs.

“what are you doing here?” accepting his kiss as he pulled you over to him while he sat on the edge of your desk, his huge hands caressing your heavy backside. “got time for a quickie?~” he flirted, lips contorted in his infamous smirk. as you opened your mouth to reply, his phone began to ring and he reached back to answer it.

“what’s the matter, baby?” you pushed his hands off of you and your face contorted with disgust. you were jealous and that was a fact, his wife had everything you had ever wanted. she had his last name and his child, and she didn’t understand why he didn’t choose her?

toji stayed on the phone with his wife for a few more minutes, before he told her that he had to get back to work. he turned and saw the look on your face, and his softened.

“why’d you choose her, toji? your voice cracked as you spoke, while tears threatened to leave your eyes. he didn’t have a reason, he never did. so, he did what he did best, deflect.

“don’t start that again. you’re still in a relationship with him, dragging it on knowing there’s only one possible outcome for you two. the relationship is dead, y/n?”

“oh? but your’s isn’t? and don’t tell me nothing about mines when you keep coming back to me, when you’re supposed to be with her right? the woman you claim to love?! you gave her everything toji. I love you, how am I supposed to feel?” you were now bawling your eyes out, poking his chest with outrage, all while you poured your heart out. he didn’t know what to say to you, left speechless. you were right after all.

your phone chimed and you looked at the smart watch on your wrist, checking the notification. wiping your tears away, you went inside your desk’s wooden drawer and pulled out your purse.

“I don’t have time for this…do me a favor and just…stop pulling me back in, just for it to end up the same.”

you sat down with your best friend and boy friend, at a nearby restaurant, agreeing to meet them for lunch. it had been a while since you were all together, however there was one missing.

“where’s satoru?” you asked, picking at your noodles as you spoke—your mind still stuck on what happened between you and toji. you couldn’t help but to look at geto with soft eyes. for the first time you didn’t swallow you guilt, instead you let it through. you were sorry and thought about telling him everything.

“he’s busy flirting with some girl, as always.” utahime said with an eye roll, causing you to chuckle. you scanned your best friend’s face and noticed a bruise on her neck.

“utahime, is that a hickey i see!” you pointed out with a smile on your face. the girl blushed and felt her neck, sharing a look with geto before the two looked away. but, you caught that. and the longer you stared at the two, it dawned on you. as much as you wanted to scream, and curse the two of them out, you couldn’t. outing them right now with no evidence would only backfire. you had to play it safe.

you sent a smile to geto and held the top of his hand, a fake smile plastered onto your face. all the guilt you had washed away.

on the way home, you thought about what you saw. your best friend and your boyfriend? that was the worst thing to ever happen to you. yeah, you were the first one to step out of your relationship with geto, but you weren’t fucking his best friend. that was a different type of low.

you couldn’t believe utahime, after everything you both been through. she was more than your best friend, she was like your sister. you thought she had your back like you had hers, but it was clear that—that wasn’t the case. she was going to get hers, the both of them. however, for now only one of them were going to be punished.

you were fresh out of the shower, wearing a grey t-shirt and a navy blue thong; your hair laid freely in its natural state. you looked at geto, as he sat on your king sized bed and shook your head. you crawled on the bed and over to him, hovering over him; gaining his full attention. he smiled and leaned in for a kiss, but you pulled back and shook your head. he rose and eyebrow and watched as you grinded against his clothed crotch, reaching to hold your hips, but you swatted them.

he didn’t deserve to touch you. this wasn’t intimacy, this was goodbye. this was his punishment.

you rolled your hips, staring into his purplish eyes, biting your lip when you felt his boner poking your cunt. he watched as you pulled his boxers down and turned around, sliding your panties to the side—positing himself at your sodden entrance, before you lowered yourself down on him. he groaned, you were so tight; it had been a while for the two of you.

you rocked your hips before bending over slightly, your ass in view; as you began to ride him. you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning, he didn’t deserve to know how good he felt, how wet you were. he could tell something was wrong with you, the way you moved without looking back at him or letting him touch you. however, he wasn’t going to say anything, instead he laid back and watched as your ass collided with his pelvis, strings of your wetness sticking to him.

a singular tear rolled out of your eye and you didn’t bother to wipe away. you were hurt, for the second time in your life. how do you keep ending up in these situations? was it you? were you the bad one? no, you just happened to fall in love with the worst people.

“fuck, baby. g’na make me cum~” he warned and you worked your hips faster, your own orgasm approaching. feeling his cock throb, you rode faster and slammed your ass down on him, until you pulled him out of you; his seed dripping on your plump cheeks. he was too wrapped up in his pleasure to notice any of your tears.

suguru laid breathless and watched as you got up from the bed and over to the adjoining bathroom. geto sighed and grabbed his phone, snapping a picture of his semi hard cock and sent it to utahime.

as you sat on the toilet, your phone chimed and you looked at everything. when you got home, geto was the first to shower and left his phone in the bedroom, which allowed you to go into his phone and made a short cut with his messages. so, everytime he sent a text to utahime, it was sent to you phone too. you also sent yourself all of their previous messages before deleting it on his end.

you stormed out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind you; alerting the long haired male.

“my best friend? out of all the people in the world you just had to go an fuck my best friend!” you held up you phone to his face, every single message, nude, love note—was in your grasp.

it was no use denying it either, he couldn’t. not when you had hardcore evidence shining in his face. so, he got mad and deflected.

“i wouldn’t have to cheat if you didn’t lie about where you were. I wouldn’t have to cheat if you showed me some love. now would I?” he retorted. youd eyes widened and you couldn’t help but chuckle. he had no idea where you actually were all the time and I guess you could thank utahime for that, after you kicked her ass.

“are you fucking serious? that’s why you cheated, because I lied about where I was? that’s your fucking excuse?!” you were seething, he was a fucking idiot. you walked over to your closet and began to take your things off of the hooks, shoving them into your huge duffle bag.

“you wanna know where I was so bad? getting my brains fucked out by my ex. every single night when I told you I was at utahime’s, I was letting him cum in me so much, i’m surprised I haven’t gotten pregnant.” now he was seething, he grabbed your bagged and tossed it onto the bed; getting in your face, but you weren’t scared—you were going to stand ten toes down.

“and finally the slut confesses! going back to your ex? isn’t he married? think he’s going to leave his wife for your raggedy, used up ass?” he started chuckling when he saw your face change, he had got you right where he wanted you. hurt.

you sniffed back the tears and moved past him, grabbing your duffle bag amongst other things, slipping on a pair of sweatpants before walking to the living room with suguru hot on your trail.

“you know you’re a fucking idiot. you call me a slut, but you went to utahime’s house on a whim to fuck her because you didn’t know my whereabouts, does she know that she isn’t the only one either? ive checked every single message suguru, icloud too,” you grabbed the rest of your things out of the living room, before you grabbed your keys.

“should’ve let gojo and shoko eat my pussy when they wanted to, then I’d really be a slut. fuck you, suguru. and go to hell,” with that, you detached the apartment’s key and threw it onto the island—slamming the door behind you, leaving him for good.

as you turned the knob to the apartment across town, the door swung open and you were face to face with toji’s chest. he looked down—opening his mouth to speak, only realized the stream of tears rolling down your pretty face. he quickly pulled you inside and hugged you; letting you soak his dark grey shirt with your sadness.

you dropped your bag as he rubbed your back, soothing you as you calmed down, before you pulled back and he placed you on top of the kitchen counter. “what happened?”

you told him everything, about him and utahime, to the nasty argument, to the break up; and by the time you got finished he was angry. “ill kill him,” he started to walk away, but you grabbed him by his wrist and shook your head.

“he isn’t worth it, as much as I would love to see that happen; he really is garbage and his karma will come.” you half smiled at him before you realized something. “why are you here? trouble with your wife?”

“actually…we just got a divorce. I had one of my lawyer friends bring over the paperwork that I asked for months in advance, and we both signed it. I told her about you, how I felt about you, and the affair. she was devastated.” you pouted, another person hurt by this affair, you felt like you only had yourself to blame.

and then he moved closer to you, picking your face up by your chin; your eyes fluttering as he stared into them, “I love you, y/n. never stopped. the only reason I married her is because she was having my baby. I was a fool who didn’t use a condom, but I was an even bigger fool for rubbing everything in your face. i'm sorry.”

your eyes widened. he had never said ‘I love you’ to you before, only you with him. and to here that he never stopped only made your heart swell. you couldn't give a fuck about anything else but what was happening now. “toji!~”

you cooed, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him into a deep—passionate kiss. your lips moved in sync, your hands exploring each other’s body’s, just before you pulled away.

“what about your son?”

“she agreed on joint custody, which is good. we’ll alternate weeks and I gave her the house. now, ya got anymore questions? ‘cause, I need to make love to you.” you shook your head no quickly, and he picked you up, and carried you to the bathroom, almost sucking your face off in the process.

as soon as your feet touched the cool tiles, you proceeded to rip your clothes off, while he did the same—ignoring the cool, sticky feeling on your panties. he quickly turned on the shower, letting the water steam up all while he kissed you. he blindly led you into the shower, his hands glued to your ass; the plushness captivating him.

the steaming waters trickled across your bodies; adding to the sensual atmosphere, and helped your arousal peak. you kissed down his chiseled torso until you were face to face with his raging boner, not even hesitating to place him into your mouth.

toji groaned, his hand going straight to your wet hair, pushing your head down further onto his cock—deepthroating him. your eyes widened and filled with tears, but you kept him deep in your mouth; until you pulled away to catch your breath. you kept eye contact with him while you jerked him off, a mixture of spit and water coated his cock. “cum in my mouth, ‘kay?” you were so cute to him, he couldn’t help but nod; sucking in some air when you took him back into your mouth.

you swirled your tongue on his tip, frenching it; while teasing his balls. then you removed your hands and only used the back of your throat to please him, the sound of your gags were like music to his ears. and soon, he couldn’t hold back anymore—grabbing your head so he could fuck your pretty face to his liking.

“so…fucking…nasty!” he grunted, your cheeks puffing up with each thrust. your hand flew down to your throbbing clit, rubbing it while your eyes rolled back into your head. it didn’t take long before he spurted his thick warm load into your mouth—forcing your to deep throat him once more.

you swallowed what you can, before he let go and you pulled away; letting it trickle out once you opened your mouth, showing him the flowy white liquid before swallowing the rest.

toji pulled you up by your wet hair, kissing you again—tongue swirling on yours as he tasted himself. you moaned, feeling his fingers find their way to your wet cunt. he picked you up once more, swiftly pushing his head inside your aching entrance. “fuckkkk, baby.~” you dragged out, throwing your head back, walls stretching as he slowly pumped in and out of you.

the more he moved, the hornier the two of you became, and soon his pace quickened. the sound of your cunt squelching, and your heart beating in your ears drowned out the shower’s loudness, fueling his arousal. he gripped your ass with both of his hands and proceeded to pound your cunt—causing air to be pushed in, making you queef repeatedly.

“she’s talking to me, miss daddy’s cock. hm?” he grunted, listening to the lewd sounds of your moans and your pretty pussy talking to him. you moaned, unable to formulate a sentence due to the overwhelming pleasure. his cock rubbed against your spot with each thrust and you could feel that bubble inside, getting ready to burst.

“gna cum on this dick? hm, pretty?—answer me!” he growled into your ear, and held your waist, smacking your ass before putting his hands back onto your fatness.

“yes! yes! gonna cum all over your dick, daddy!~” you squealed and he slammed harder, bursting your bubble. you were silent as your cunt gushed, a complete contrast from the shower above you.

“that’s it baby girl, let it out. gonna get another one out of you~” his hands stayed glued to your ass and his pace stayed the same, overstimulating your leaky cunt. drool pooled out of your mouth as you let go once more, your liquids splashing the shower’s walls and drenching his cock once more.

he didn’t stop pounding once your orgasmed again, as his own was mere seconds behind you. with a few more thrusts, he slammed inside of you—holding you there while he painted your walls white, cock twitch as he emptied his load inside your tummy.

“let’s get you out of this shower before you pass out,” he chuckled and helped clean your body off.

after a few more rounds of love making, the two of you laid in bed, cuddled up to one another. toji had drifted off to sleep, after you took charge in the last two rounds; ultimately making him tap out.

you stared at his beautiful resting face, heart swollen with pure love and happiness. you had finally got what you wanted. turning on your side, you backed yourself into his embrace; ready to drift off to sleep—until your phone buzzed.

turning the brightness down, you checked the message from an unknown number.

✩ ‘we need to talk, now’

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sorcerous-caress · 11 months

Note

could u possibly do how companions would treat tav's kid? like in a situation where a tav had a child/younger sibling or smth. fluffy fluff all around

You know how sometimes fate aligns so that your past deeds follow you into the future? This request gave me a flashback to my old writing blog.

Companions reacting to Tav's younger sibling/child

[ bg3, fluff, several characters ]

[ Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Karlach, Laezel, Shadowheart, Minthara ]

Astarion

What on earth is that little gremlin following you around? Just make sure that no one feeds it after midnight.

To say he's not a fan is a huge underestimation, he signed up for a camp full of hot available single adults and not a daycare. How are you expecting him to be his usual self when a pg13 warning keeps chasing you around.

Whatever, he will just ignore the goblin-like thing. He can do that, how hard can it be?

Well...actually now that some time has passed, he has to admit that the little menace is really funny at times. Especially that one time he stole Gale's books to build a book throne in the mud, Astarion swears he could still hear Gale's heart shattering into a million pieces, what a fond memory.

What? Pfff, no, he isn't getting attached. He just...well was doing some trick with a coin to make it disappear, and the kid happened to be nearby, Astarion definitely wasn't trying to impress them.

Now the thing about picking locks is that it's better to teach them young. Think of all the small places, nooks, and crannies they could fit into, bringing them some loot and actually be useful.

And since he's already bothering to do it, might as well teach them how to wield a bow. Properly wield a bow, not like how Wyll does it no, it requires elegance only an elf is capable of and Astarion is the most expert here to train them.

Did you see that? They're actually getting better. He genuinely is impressed, so much that he doesn't register the smile of pride adorning his face, the excitement in his voice as he boasts about the kid's accomplishment and how they're clearly superior than the other crotch goblins.

Gale

Ah, children, truly the future of mankind. Humanity's hope and the ones who will carry the torch after us.

He is almost giddy at the idea of having an impressionable youth to teach, to steer and to spoil rotten like he was spoiled.

Will show off magic tricks nonchalantly, he definitely has a hidden agenda in trying to make the kid a wizard. After all who is better than him, an arch wizard, to teach a new curious soul about all the wonders of the weave? No magic is too advanced, everything is possible with imagination.

If anything, kids have the best imagination, better than adults do. Which is the argument he uses when you ask him why your little one can shoot invisible fireballs now.

He would love to read to them, he has all kinds of stories about heros, past legends and fables that will guarantee them a safe and sound mind. A healthy mindest to nurture then into a good kind hearted adult.

Even when his books end up the subject of the kid's abuse kind of a lot- Gale is nothing but forgiving. Cut the kid some slack, if anything, Gale is happy they are safe and sound.

Would make special meals for the kid during dinner time a lot, bunny shaped carrot cuts or soup with a sparkly finish. He can even teach them some basic recipes, cooking is a very important life skill afterall.

Wyll

He is very experienced with kids. Feels a bit concerned for the fact they're at camp all alone and volunteers to stay behind and watch them. And no, unlike the previous two, he doesn't try to indoctrinate them into elf supremacy culture nor tactically manipulate them into being a wizard.

He just lets them be a kid, plays ball with them. Shows them how to play fetch with Scratch. Overall a very cool and laid back older brother.

He definitely takes great inspiration from his own dad and how he raised him, offers the same advice and wisdom his own father shared with him.

Shows the kid that life is so much more than it seems, nothing is truly evil and nothing is truly good. Both can be found in each other. He treats the kid with respect and doesn't pull the older than you card unless necessary.

He wants them to establish their own being, their own character and carve their own path in life.

Definitely does whatever he can to keep Mizora away from the child. That devil cannot be trusted, and even while he knows the kid is smart, he doesn't want to leave it up to fate whether Mizora tricks them into a pact or not.

Halsin

The kid adores him and all of his animal forms. Halsin indulges them a lot and changes into whatever wildshape they deem the coolest that day to play with them.

When he looks at them, he sees a seed for the future. It requires care and nurturing to grow properly, and he is willing to make this world a better place for them.

Shows them how important nature is, how we should take care of the world just like it takes care of us. How we should respect the plants and the animals, how every meal is a gift and should be treasured.

He has a very fatherly vibe to him. It comes naturally, and he doesn't even have to try. Whenever the kid feels overwhelmed or scared, it's Halsin they run up and hide behind.

Also, when they get in trouble too because they know Halsin will take their side.

And he knows the kid is using him sometimes, but he lets it slide. Takes the kid on walks a lot, helps them make friends with the nearby cat that sometimes frequents the camp.

There is a potted plant they're both growing, a small shared project between the two of them. Halsin adores the look of happiness the kid has whenever the plant sprouts a new leaf and grows taller.

They don't have to know that it was Halsin's powers keeping it alive throughout the frequent changing of their camp and consistent travelling.

Karlach

Little soldier is what she calls them.

Picks them up a lot after her engine gets fixed, let's them ride on her shoulder and hang on to her horns sometimes. Even indulges them and pretends she is a robot that they're controlling.

Sorry Astarion, she can't stop hugging you. She's a simple robot, and the overlord kid on her shoulders demanded it.

While Wyll is the cool yet dependable older sibling, Karlach is the even cooler one who's very chaotic and would help the kid in their pranks and cause trouble a lot.

Ah, what the hell kid, sure you can pick up her great flaming axe and swing it around. Actually she will use a nearby table as a shield and you should definitely try throwing it at her.

It's not that she means to be a bad influence, it's just that she is extremely indulgent. That it circles back to being a bad influence without meaning to.

They want to only eat sweets for dinner and all day? Hell yeah little soldier she wants the same. They want to do it for the rest of eternity and never eat vegetables again? Sign her the fuck up because she is ride or die.

Oh yeah, your kid/sibling can swear now, thanks to her, you're welcome.

Jaheira

Is the one feeding them the vegetables, after telling Karlach off and putting her in the timeout corner.

It's not enough that she has a gaggle of children back home, but you had to bring another one with you to the camp? Oh cub, you and your own little cub are going to be the death of her.

If Halsin thinks he can hide them behind his bear form he better think twice, Jaheira isn't below putting the both of them in line if she has to.

She demands respect, and the kid definitely ends up giving it to her, begrudgingly or not. They understand she is the true form of authority in this camp and that they better do what she says and finish their chores.

They definitely see her as a grandma. She is secretly touched if they call her that but acts unaffected. She just doesn't want to let the kid down. She has to be strict because medicine never tastes sweet.

They remind her of her own kids backhome sometimes, she does get homesick a lot more with them around.

Shadowheart

No, she isn't emo. No, she isn't goth either. What is this kid talking about? They better know that worship of lady Shar is very sacred and not a passing phase she will grow out of.

You know how kids are overly curious and always ask these intrusive questions? Shadowheart is a magnet for that.

They just go up to her ,unannounced, and tell her about the recent camp news. She sips on her wine and gives the kid a glass of grape juice while they gossip.

Yes, she is a half elf. No, she is still as capable as an elf.

Wait, what did Astarion say about her? Really? Well, kid, thanks for being a snitch now. If you'd excuse her, she has urgent business to take care of.

She sees them and wonder if this is how her childhood was supposed to be like, if this is what she was missing out on all her life. Sometimes she can't help the burning envy at the back of her throat as she watches them be showered with love and care for simply existing.

But she doesn't let the bitterness get to her, not with how the kid looks at her in awe and admiration. She vows to be at least a decent example and not disappoint them.

Laezel

If left unattended, she will start a boot camp. Come one kid, get down, and give her 40 push-ups now.

What? She is just looking out for them. How else are they supposed to join the battlefield if they have no upper body strength?

Yes, the battlefield, why do you ask? Of course, she wants them in the front lines eventually. War is the perfect environment to raise a child, to make them strong and fast. You were very smart for bringing them here with you, she has to admit.

Bah, she scoofs at Karlach and Astarion's ways. It is a danger hazard at best. The kid needs to start with training equipment and not actual weapons. Her companions' lack of braincells does surprise her sometimes.

Well...she also does mention the fact that for them to graduate, they have to actually murder someone from the camp. You know, like how she murdered half her classmates when she was still in training.

She actually...does a good job at training them safely, she evaluates their weakness and strengths and gives them advice based on it on how to improve. She looks out for their well-being and shows them the most efficient way to end a fight.

But she's only joking? Right? Right???

Uh....did anyone see Gale??

Minthara

To put it in the nicest way possible, they are terrfied of her.

She thinks it's good because any sane person should be afraid of her. Frankly, she'd be concerned for a possibility of brain damage if they weren't.

They avoid her, and she barely pats an eye over it.

Although she was always the first to act whenever they were in danger, completely beheading the enemy with her sword before they could touch a hair on the kid. Still she doesn't care for the fact the child is drenched in blood and just saw someone get murdered.

She thinks they should get over it. The sooner, the better. Life is full of murder and blood, you'd be only dooming them if you don't let them see things for how they really are.

Drow culture for raising their children is very brutal, most of them die young and even the ones who do make it alive, don't live as long as the surface elves do.

Each drow carries deep scars from childhood, both on body and mind. Minthara wasn't the exception.

She tolerates your young out of respect for you. She tolerates what she deems as disobedience and disrespect from them.

You're not sure if they'll ever stop fearing her, but you also know that you can trust her to be there for them. To not hesitate a second in saving their flesh no matter what the cost is.

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redwing4life · 5 months

Text

For you

CHAPTER 3 | ASHES TO EMBERS

PAIRING: Firefighter!Neighbor!Bucky x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Mention of night terrors, Bucky being upset, fluff, flashbacks containing the death of a child, plenty of unholy thoughts, half naked bucky, dirty talk???, sexual tension, please let me know if i’ve missed something!!!

SUMMARY: You find Bucky at his most vulnerable when he’s sent home from work at 2 in the morning. While doing everything you can to comfort him, you realise you’re falling for him.

WORD COUNT: 4926

PREVIOUS CHAPTER // NEXT CHAPTER

“James, you home?” You call into the firefighter’s apartment, peeking your head around his front door.

It’s your day off and you want ice cream, and for some reason instead of running to the store, you chose to break into your neighbour’s home to ransack his freezer.

“James?” You shout again, double checking he’s at work as you close the door behind you and make your way to the kitchen.

Alpine greets you with a meow from above the fridge, seemingly unbothered by the sudden intruder. You crouch down to pull open the bottom door, met with a cool rush of air that leaves your arm hairs standing tall.

“Come on, I know you have some…” You mumble to yourself while you rustle through the shelves.

“Bingo!” Your fingers brush ice off the top of the tub before pulling it out of the freezer. You reach beside you to close the door and push yourself to your feet, turning to leave when you finally notice your half naked neighbour.

You jump a mile, throwing the ice cream tub in the midst of your fright. “Fuck me, James!!” You all but scream, right hand now clutched to your chest.

Bucky laughs from his stomach, an raising an amused brow at the sight before him.

“I’ve been trying to for months, doll.” He smirks. “What are you doing in my apartment?”

It’s fair to say your brain is lagging a bit, too focused on the drops of water running down his very bare chest to pay notice to his confession.

Clad in just a white towel, wrapped dangerously low on his hips, your neighbour bends down to pick up the strewn tub of ice cream. You catch the way his free hand clutches the knot of the towel in an attempt to keep it from falling, though you find yourself indifferent to the idea.

Indifferent, my ass. You’re practically begging the gods for a gust of wind. Wait did he just say he’s been trying to fu-

“You stealing my ice cream, sweets?” His teasing voice breaks you out of your rather un-holy thoughts.

“James- I- I thought you were working?”

“Ah-Ah-Ah,” Bucky tuts, stepping closer to you, “you didn’t answer my question, doll. I said are stealing from me?”

Your throat runs dry and you shake your head quickly, “No- I- I was just-“

“Just what, peach? Hm?”

He’s so fucking close to you that your brain has completely checked out; your eyes fall to his broad chest, still dripping from the shower.

“Cat got ya tongue, doll?” Bucky teases you, raising a hand to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear, skin ablaze in the path of his touch.

You drag your gaze to meet his, breath hitching at his lust-blown pupils.

“I thought you were at work.” You whisper, clutching onto that as your excuse for being caught.

A hand wraps around your waist and tugs you closer, forcing you to brace yourself against Bucky’s taut torso. With one hand on his chest and the other at the top of his abs, your heart races in your ears as the firefighter leans in closer.

“And I thought you were a good girl.” His voice is low, sultry even, against your ear, “I guess we were both wrong.”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, drawing a groan from Bucky’s throat, the vibrations palpable beneath your finger tips.

“I am good, Bucky.” You hate how submissive you sound, but Bucky adores it. All it took was a tub of ice cream and a white towel to have you like putty in his hands.

You gasp when he bites down on your earlobe, feeling his warm tongue reach out to soothe the sting. The sensation runs straight to your pussy, your panties catching your arousal as you look up at your neighbour.

“Good girls don’t call me ‘Bucky’.” His nose trails along your cheek until his mouth is hovering over yours. “Wanna try that again, doll?”

You hold his fiery gaze as you reply, desperate to appease him. “I’m sorry, James. I can be good.”

Eyes falling to his mouth when he rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, you whimper at the sight.

“Fuck, doll.” His lips nearly brush over yours as he speaks. “Lucky for you, I like it when my girl’s got a bad side…”

You’re still watching his pink lips when he takes your hand in his. He revels in the way his hand swallows yours before leading it down to the towel’s knot on his hip.

“Go on, sweets.” Bucky ushers your hand between his skin and the towel, slowly pushing the material until you feel it fall away. With one hand, he tilts your chin up so you look him in the eye, gently leading the other closer to his already hard length.

“Show me how bad you can be.”

You wake up with a startle, body bolting upright in the swarm of your sheets. It takes a few seconds for your heart to stop racing and your ears to stop ringing; you look around you, no longer in Bucky’s kitchen and no longer just moments away from kissing him.

Not just from kissing him though, were you?

As you come to your senses, you notice frustrated grunts coming from the hallway, surely the cause of your sudden wake up. With a frown, you slip out of bed and step into your slippers.

You walk to your living room, flicking on a light as you go, ears honing in on the sounds from the other side of the door.

“For fuck’s sake!” You hear, recognising the voice as your neighbours, the same one you were just dreaming about.

“Stupid piece of shit-“ He grumbles, accompanied by clanging metal.

Quickly unlocking your door, you glance down the hall to see Bucky knelt before his own, desperately trying to push his key into the lock.

“Bucky?”

Your voice passes straight through him, as though you said nothing at all. The metal of his keys clang against the lock, doing everything it can not to go in the key hole. You close your door behind you and slip your own keys into the pocket of your checked pyjama pants.

“Bucky?” You repeat, louder this time. How foolish of you to think your words would settle upon his ears this time around; one may think he’s deaf with the way your calls roll off him like water off a duck’s back.

Tentatively, your feet carry you forward, barely heard over the grunts falling from your neighbours lips.

“James?”

He stills. The new silence hits you like a brick but you’re not sure that you prefer it. No more than a couple of feet of distance and shit ton of apprehension sits between you both.

Bucky wills himself to stay still, though his hands refuse to comply. They tremble in front of him, his grip on the keys turning his knuckles white. Your gaze burns into him yet he can’t find the strength to look at you. To admit that he needs you.

Without a sound, you close the gap and lower yourself to your knees. You don’t touch him yet, you think he needs the space.

He wants you to touch him, he hates the space. If only his vocal cords would listen to his brain and ask.

Your features are blurred in his peripheral, slowly coming into focus when you stretch a hand out in front of him. The pads of your fingers barely brush over his knuckles, they trace the veins leading down to his wrist, leaving a trail of fire behind them. Not a dangerous fire, Bucky thinks; the kind that sits crackling in a fireplace in winter while you read a book, huddled into the couch.

He’s a slave to your touch, his grasp relaxing as you run your fingers over his, urging him to open his palm. His fist peels open like a lily blooming, the silver key a stark contrast to the white tension of his hand.

“That’s it, love.” You whisper, unknowingly causing Bucky to bite back a sob.

Love. The tenderness of your tone is unlike anything he’s heard before and he relishes in it, letting it wrap around him like a blanket.

Plucking the keys from his hand, you gently reach up to push them into the key hole. Bucky’s eyes fall shut in a futile attempt to hold back his tears, tears that you’re ready to swipe away if he needs. You realise in this moment that you’d do anything to ease his pain, a revelation that both terrifies you and makes more sense than anything else in your life.

The click of the door unlocking sounds and you pull the key out.

“Let’s get you out of this hallway, James.” You use his real name, now that you know it’s the most effective, and push yourself to your feet.

It’s of little practical use for you to offer Bucky a hand, yet you do it anyway. He takes it with haste, giving in to his primal need for physical touch.

His knees crack as he stands, a combination of years climbing fire escapes and the last ten minutes he’s spent on the ground fighting a key hole. Letting you push the door open, he keeps hold of your free hand and follows you into his own apartment like a lost puppy.

You string together small praises and lead him to his couch, pressing his shoulders slightly to get him to sit down. Once he eases down on the edge of the seat, your turn to close the door but find yourself being pulled back to Bucky.

“Don’t go,” He pleads, his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist; it’s not painful, but you feel the desperation bleeding into your skin. His eyes are strikingly blue and glistening with unshed tears, begging you to stay. Luckily for him, you would never leave his side when he needs you.

“I’m not going anywhere, Buck. Just gonna close the door and i’ll be right back.”

It dawns on him that he’s acting like a toddler, incapable of being left alone for even a second. He’s almost glad you’ve left to lock the door so you don’t see how his cheeks have burned crimson with shame. There’s so many thoughts swirling around his head that a dull ache is growing at the base of his neck.

Alpine saunters into the living area with sleepy eyes; she meets your gaze as you head back to Bucky, her eyes flitting between your worried stance and the stillness of her owner. She may only be a cat, but she knows when something is wrong. You offer her a sad smile. How do I help him, Alps? What does he need from me?

Releasing a slow breath, you return to your neighbour, crouching down in front of his place on the couch.

“Can I touch you?” You ask gently.

Words fail Bucky for the umpteenth time so he’s forced to nod instead. The warmth of your hands on his thighs is welcomed with a small sigh. His resolve to hold back is weakening with every rise and fall of your chest, his focus on your breathing being the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

You circle your fingers over his navy pants keeping your hands close to his knees. The last thing he needs is to think you’re making a pass at him.

“What happened, James?” Your brows pull together. “Your shift doesn’t finish till six.”

The lump in his throat swells, images of tonight’s events flashing before him like a broken film reel.

You watch his chin tremble as his memories torment him, waiting patiently for his response. You know it takes time for him to talk, but the silence is killing you. Lifting a hand from his left thigh, you reach up and brush the loose strands of chestnut hair away from his eyes.

You finally break the silence, “Bucky, darling, what happened?”

Something inside Bucky’s chest snaps and a sob tears through his whole body. He collapses into your hold, face finding safety in your neck. The wails wrack through him while his tears soak your night shirt and you quickly cradle his head.

“Oh, love, it’s okay.” You clench your eyes shut, trying to hold back your own tears. “I’ve got you.”

Though muffled by your shirt, his cries reverberate around the room. You find yourself pushing up to your feet, separating from the firefighter briefly so you can climb onto his lap. With a leg either side of his, kneeling against the cushion, you pull him near to you once more.

Those strong arms envelop you, bringing you impossibly closer; you wrap your own around his neck, the other holding his head to your chest.

Every sob breaks your heart as broken sentences fall from his lips, barely comprehensible but you pick up the few words you understand.

Fire. Boy. Trapped.

You whisper sweet nothings into his ear while you run your fingers through his hair, praying his body tires so he doesn’t have to endure this much longer. If it doesn’t, if he needs you to hold him till sunrise, then sunset, then sunrise again, you’ll do it. You won’t even lean back to take your slippers off, not unless he’s ready.

It’s funny how time works. How things can feel so quick yet so slow at the same time, with no regard for which you’d prefer. You have no idea how long Bucky has been weeping into your neck; you’ve lost count of how many times it’s seemed like he’d calmed, only for a heart wrenching sob to escape him and the process repeats all over again.

But at some point his wails became whimpers and his tears ran dry, only your shirt and his cheeks holding the remnants of his cries.

“I-“ Bucky’s voice is hoarse, forcing him to pull away from your grasp and clear his throat. “I’m sorry, doll, i’m so fucking sorry.”

You don’t even realise you’re shaking your head at him as he continues to apologise.

“I shouldn’t have made you deal with that-“

“Stop,“

“-you didn’t get a choice I just dumped it all-“

“James, stop!” Your sharp tone shuts him up immediately, a timid expression on his face. You reach behind you to grab his hands and pull them in between you. Your flatten your palms against his and watch his eyes fall to where you meet.

“I don’t know who or what made you feel like you have to apologise the moment you show your pain, but I wish I could slap them seven ways to Sunday.”

Warmth pools in your chest at the tiny upturn of Bucky’s lips.

“As long as you’ll let me, i’ll help you, no matter how long it takes.” You glance down at your tear soaked shirt. “Even if it means soggy shirts.”

Your neighbour groans, “Oh god, at least let me apologise for that.”

A relieved laugh rises from your stomach, glad to see a semblance of normal Bucky. “It’s fine, Buck, washers exist for a reason.”

Comfortable silence falls and you let your fingers pass through his, linking together perfectly. Alpine decides to finally make an appearance and jumps up onto the arm of the couch before stepping onto Bucky’s lap, nestling in the small gap between your bodies.

“Someone’s comfy.” The firefighter mumbles, quietly enjoying the comfort of his cat.

When he raises his head to look at you, he finds your kind eyes already on him.

“What do you need?” You ask, noting the unrest on his face.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to talk about it or do you need distracting?”

Bucky ponders for a moment. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it.”

You nod, “That’s okay. Distraction it is.”

Feet tapping against the hardwood floor, you wait patiently for Bucky to leave the bathroom. Alpine is oblivious to your unrest, enjoying the head stretches you’ve been giving her for the past twenty minutes.

The firefighter gladly accepted your suggestion of a shower, knowing the hot water would relax him after tonight’s events. You’ve been setting up ready for him to return; two lamps now emit warm light from either end of the apartment while the show you and Bucky have been watching sits on pause. You even laid out his favourite blanket for him, though Alpine has commandeered it for now.

Bucky’s phone, meanwhile, has been buzzing constantly - whether it’s an incoming call or a text - the vibrations against the pine coffee table are beginning to drive you crazy.

Eventually, you decide to check who it is who’s desperate to get in touch with your neighbour. You grab the phone and flip it over gently, faced with several notifications from Steve. Your frown deepens as you skim over his messages, realising how worried the captain is over Bucky’s silence.

Hoping he won’t mind, you pick up Bucky’s phone and walk to the bathroom door before knocking against the wood. The shower turned off a few minutes ago and you were meaning to check on him anyway.

“Hey, Buck, everything okay?” You call into the side of the door. No response.

“James?” You ask again when you hear shuffling on the other side.

Still leaning in close to listen carefully, you raise your fist to knock once more, only for the door to suddenly swing open, revealing a rather disheveled and very shirtless Bucky.

Being as tall as he is, you’re eye level with his pecs, small beads of water resting against his lightly tanned skin; some race down to his abs and you follow their path as they journey through the valleys of his defined muscles.

Bucky looks down at you, adorned with an amused smirk, as he leans an arm above him against the door frame. Your frozen state and peach pink cheeks has him chuckling, glad to see you don’t find him ugly after this evening.

Flashbacks to your dream earlier in the night have you rolling your bottom lip between your teeth. Mere inches separate your bodies, the gap closing briefly each time you take a breath.

A deep blue towel is tied around his hips; it’s slipped just below his waist, the divots of his adonis’ belt screaming to be traced, to follow the happy trail right down to his-

“I’m alright, doll.” Bucky’s gruff voice greets your ears, though it takes you a moment to remember what’s happening. “Sorry, I was just finishing up. You alright? You’re looking a little flushed, sweets.”

No shit, Sherlock.

Cheeks burning with embarrassment, you raise your eyes to meet his. “I- uh- I’m g-good. I was just- um-“

Bucky grins, finding your stuttering cute, before glancing at his phone in your grasp.

“Let me guess, Steve’s been calling?”

You nod quickly. “A lot, yes. I was coming to ask what to do?”

“Would you mind calling him and explaining everything while I go get changed?”

“Yeah, of course.” Fighting to keep your eyes from trailing to his bare chest, you smile reassuringly, hoping you’ve not made a fool of yourself by ogling a man who was bawling his eyes out a half hour ago.

Awkward silence arrives and leaves you with a racing heart. It’s not everyday you see your dreams turn into reality. Well, it would only your dream becoming reality if Bucky were to grab you face and kiss you till your pussy is-

“Doll?”

Shit, you realise you’ve been staring at his pecs. “Yeah?”

“Mind letting me by so I can change?”

Somehow turning a deeper shade of red, you step aside to let Bucky and his shit-eating grin by. You drop your head down to ensure you don’t end up staring at his ass as he heads to his room.

Pull yourself together, Y/n.

You walk to the kitchen, opening Bucky’s phone on the way and dialling Steve’s number. It rings twice before an agitated voice plays from the speakers.

“Jesus, Buck, where have you been? I’ve-“

“Uh- hey, Steve. It’s Y/n.”

A beat of silence passes.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah, sorry, James asked me to call and explain that he’s had a rough night.” You wince at your own words. ‘Rough’ barely scratches the surface of what tonight has been.

“Shit…” The captain murmurs, and you hum in agreement. “Where- um- where is he now?”

You glance over your shoulder, “He’s just getting changed. It was- well, he’s really struggling, Steve, he was pretty shaken up.”

A small sigh sounds from the other side of the phone. “Yeah, we had a tough call and it triggered him so I sent him home early.”

You nod, despite knowing Steve can’t see you, and he continues.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to help.”

You’re shaking your head now. “No no, Steve, it’s okay, i’m fine, really!” You lower your voice, “I mean, he scared me. I’ve never seen him like that before, i’m just worried for him.”

Eyes fluttering shut as you remember the fear that flooded your muscles when Bucky started crying, Steve replies with a somber tone, “Yeah, me too.”

“Hey,” he chirps, “i’ve already told him that he doesn’t have to come in tonight but he never listens to me. Could you try and convince him to stay home?”

Having already planned on asking him to consider taking a day off, you answer, “Yes, of course. But if he doesn’t listen to you then-“

“Trust me, Y/n” Steve interrupts you, “you’ve got better chance than I do, just let me know how it goes.”

“Will do. Thanks, Steve.”

“Thank you, Y/n. I’m glad he’s got someone who cares about him like we do.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Me too. Good night, Steve.”

“Night!”

You hang up the phone and spin on your heels at the sound of a door closing. Bucky stands just outside his bedroom door, now clad in grey sweatpants and a black t shirt, his hair still a little damp and ruffled from his attempt to dry it.

“Hey…” A small smile stretches across his lips, a far cry from the smirking tease you spoke to a few minutes ago.

“Hey, James.” You step closer. “Would you like a drink?”

“Im alright, thanks doll.”

“I got the TV set up if you wanna watch something? Take your mind off things?”

Bucky sighs constantly at the thought, nodding gently. “That sounds good.”

Settling down onto the couch, you let Alpine sit between you, leaving enough space that you’re not touching without being too far away from each other. The pair of you watch your show for a while, time bringing you closer together until you’re resting your head on Bucky’s shoulder. He runs his fingers up and down your right arm that’s lopped around his left, the tender strokes lulling you to sleep.

You battle to keep your eyes open, grateful that Bucky can’t see your face as you doze off every now and then. I mean, who can blame you when you’re being held so securely, your side pressed against his so close that you can feel his heartbeat?

You feel Bucky twitch beneath you, causing you to blink your eyes open, not realising you’d fallen asleep. Thankfully, Bucky didn’t notice either, and you watch as he stretches to the coffee table to press pause on the TV remote.

With no background noise, you hear your neighbours breath increase before he twists back to face you.

“I meant it earlier.” His voice pins you down and you sit up properly.

“Meant what, Buck?”

“That i’m sorry.” Those sharp blue eyes fall to his lap.

You shake your head for what feels like the thousandth time tonight, “James, please, you don’t need-“

“You were scared of me, doll.”

Cussing yourself mentally for not being quieter on your call with Steve, you scramble words together, desperate to fix the miscommunication.

“That’s not- That’s not what I meant, James.”

Bucky’s brow furrows deeper, head titling up but his eyes remain on his lap. “What else is it supposed to mean? I scared you, Y/n. Plain and simple.”

“I wasn’t scared of you, James.” You place a hand on his, hating the way he doesn’t turn his over to hold yours. “I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to help you, that I’d be useless at calming you down. It wasn’t you, I promise.”

“I- I was so scared that you were in so much pain, Buck, and- and I couldn’t do anything.”

A single tear falls onto his grey sweatpants just as he finally meets your gaze, eyes swarming with vulnerability. You feel his hand turn to press against your palm.

“You weren’t useless, Y/n.” He gestures to your surroundings. “I mean, all of this! You’ve done nothing but care for me since the moment you found me outside. This isn’t useless, doll. You’ve done so fucking much for me already and you don’t even know why I need you in the first place.”

A stray tear escapes you as you reach a hand up to cup his cheek. The scruff of his stubble tickles your skin, swiping a thumb over his cheek bone to catch his fallen tears.

“You don’t need to tell me a-“

“I want to.”

“Okay.” You nod and squeeze his hand. “But if you change your mind at any point, that’s okay too. I’m just here for you, James.”

Bucky doesn’t change his mind.

Once he gets over the initial nerves, his words flow like a broken faucet. Your heart fills with lead, sinking to your stomach as he tells you about that one fire that never leaves his mind. How he was only in his second year, still fresh faced and naïve, so confident in himself that he failed to find the boy trapped under a fallen beam. How he walked out of the house feeling so goddamn proud of himself for saving the little girl, only to find out the next day that her big brother was found dead in that same room.

It’s impossible to blink away your tears, as one falls, three others take its place until your cheeks are as damp as a shower wall. Your death grip on Bucky’s hand anchors him as he confesses his worst secret, the one that haunts his dreams until they fade into nightmares and then into terrors. You realise then that this is what he sees when you’re startled awake to his screams at night; while his physical body is trapped in unconsciousness, his mind it trapped in that house, staring at the little boy.

Words fail you as Bucky talks, so you focus on listening, on holding his hand and wiping away the few tears he has left. The need to reassure him burns in your chest as his words slow, eyes fluttering close when you bring his hand to your lips.

You pepper soft kisses from his fingers to his wrist. “You carry this weight everywhere, James. When was the last time you set it down?”

Bucky’s nostrils flare slightly as he breathes in deeply through his nose; he shakes his head, lips quivering before revealing his glassy eyes.

“I c-can’t… he didn’t deserve to- to die because of me, so I- I don’t deserve to put it down.”

“Oh, Bucky, darling,” You release his hand to hold his face. His pulse throbs under your palm as you slide your hand upwards, slipping your pinky and ring fingers behind his ear.

“Holding this in, letting it control you for so long, it’s blinding you, love. It’s tricked you into thinking you deserve the pain but you don’t. You don’t.”

Bucky leans into your right hand, raising his own to cover yours.

“You don’t have to believe me right now, cause I know you don’t.” A dry chuckle falls from the firefighters mouth. “But can try and trust me on this? Trust me to look after you when you need it?”

Your breathe hitches in your throat when he presses his lips to your palm, all while holding your stare. You’ll never grow old of him looking at you this way.

Bucky smiles gently, “I’ve always trusted you, doll.”

“Good.”

Sitting here, holding each other again with tear stained cheeks and tired eyes, it would be easy for someone to think you’re in love.

Maybe they wouldn’t be wrong, not about you anyway. Though, you’re happy to keep that to yourself for now.

“You should sleep, Barnes.” He huffs a laugh, pulling away from your grasp.

“Had enough of me already, sweets?”

Now you’re the one laughing, “Never,” you push yourself to your feet and offer him your hands, “come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Taking your help, Bucky lets you lead him to his bedroom. You pull back his duvet and step back, letting him climb into his bed, limbs weighed down by his fatigue.

You crouch down beside him. “How’d you feel about staying home tonight? I don’t want you pushing yourself to work when you’re not ready.”

Battling to keep his eyes open, Bucky mumbles a response into his pillow. “Okay, doll. For you.”

While it’s too dark to see, your neighbour knows that you’re blushing. You go to stand up and leave but a hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back.

“Stay with me, Y/n.”

You smile. “Okay, love. For you.”

NEXT CHAPTER

a/n: i really hope this was worth the wait! it’s taken me a long time to get this written properly and in the way it deserves. hope you can tell i was feeling shit when i wrote bucky’s breakdown - you write what you know, ay?

thank you so much for reading, don’t forget to reblog and like if you enjoyed. all the support i’ve received so far has been incredible and it makes me smile like mad when i read your comments.

as always, asks and dms are open - questions, requests, suggestions, whatever you’d like!! love, red ❤️

comment if you’d like to be added to the ashes to embers taglist 🧡

taglist: @armystay89 @rabbitrabbit12321 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @harrystylesandthegoobs @zannemes @noonespecial90 @pank0w @blackbirdwitch22 @wintrsoldrluvr @pingpongfingfong @belleofthebooks @larienjenova @chaosbarelycontained @mostlymarvelgirl @trustworthy-jellyfish @sorenevans @ozwriterchick @nervousnerdwitch @suz7days @bethexo07 @ace-27749 @bellabarnes1378

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sidsinning · 7 months

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To expand on Lucifer's neglect more

Yes he loves Charlie dearly, yes he showers her with his love and affection and semi-approval ("it's uh...got a lot of character!") when he sees her after all these years for the first time, yes he is desperately trying to switch back her reliance on Alastor to reliance on him- all these feelings are real and strong when she's right in front of him

-but when she isn't he is back in his own little world and rubber ducks. When he doesn't see Charlie in person she becomes white noise to him besides fleeting moments of courage and pining he gets to try and connect with her again. These are the moments where he regains a bit of clarity on just how fucked his family situation is.

He knows he has to maintain his connection with her somehow while also battling his own depression and urge to isolate and block off the rest of the world. They're in limbo of whether or not their relationship will finally be unrepairable, also expressed in how him and Lilith are not fully divorced, but still separated, with him still clearly loving her bc he still wears his wedding ring.

I love him, I think his love for Charlie is stronger than anything in his life, and I know he'd do anything he could for her (besides the one thing she asked which is very unluckily directly connected to his trauma)

But it's true that he doesn't listen to her, doesn't keep up with how her life is going, and has remained estranged from her as a child through her adult life for years for whatever reason (smtg implied through this flashback we don't understand yet, and/or his mental health issues)

For Charlie at this point, she's not a kid anymore, so just getting a call from him once in awhile is not enough if he still isn't addressing any of the issues that have built up between them, which has made her susceptible to being tricked by Alastor's empty words of praise and bonding

During Hell's Greatest Dad he isn't trying to address anything she's told him to, just trying to fix the surface level physical issues with the hotel to satisfy her- she looks uncomfortable the whole time he's trying to give her a sales pitch while smiling at everything Alastor says bc he is getting to her emotional needs, bc the bastard sees right through the father-daughter pair's issues

"I have angel powers! I can give you mountains of expensive things!"

"I'm always here for you! I'm so proud of you and all you've accomplished! We've grown so close bc I've always been by your side (unlike a certain someone 😇🐍🍎)"

He's excited when she asks him to come over, and we're excited for him to finally see his daughter he seems to love so much who doesn't talk to him, but from their conversation it is very much shown that Charlie is the one who has been more desperate to remain connected to him. She always updates him on her life when she can and asks him if he's paying attention to her- which he doesn't. Leading to her disappointment and/or annoyance with only jobs for her or random calls where he talks about smtg irrelevant.

I am a Lucifer stan through and through, but it is undeniable that he has not been a good dad despite being a good person. Now he's stepping up and reconnecting to Charlie again as she's fully accepting of him which is sweet.

It's also nice to see that helping Charlie and reconnecting with her is what brings him true happiness in life- bc of his anxiety and trauma he avoids the thing he knows deep down is the underlying cause of his unhappiness- his distant family and confronting their fractured relationship

So now that he's addressed a major part of the root of his depression, he stopped isolating himself, is being active, and given himself smtg productive to do, so his anxiety is down :)

Helping Charlie addressed how broken hearted he was over his family splitting, and restored the faith in humanity and good he lost after he was banished from Heaven and failed to redeem sinners when he tried

Shshsjdjdkfk I just love the characterization we get in just 2 23 minute episodes, even though the pacing is undeniably insanely fast and I would have preferred more time to marinate in it- but what can you do about capitalism vs. artistic freedom

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #charlie morningstar #sidrabbles #splurged at 2 am btw plz forgive any grammar mistakes or rambling

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savorycannoli · 1 year

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Can I talk about sugar for a second? Like all of the berzatto children are tragic and doomed by the narrative in their own right, but nat’s story means so such to me idk if I can even fully talk about it all. We see her relationship with her mom is strained at best, it seems like she’s the least favorite child, maybe BECAUSE of her existence as a woman.

And then we find out that her lifelong nickname is based off of a childhood mistake, her being overeager to help her family literally turned into a lifelong reminder of her fuck up. Is there anything more tragic?? A child wanting love but getting scorn?? And then it makes the flashback scene where she tries to add raisins in season 1 all the more upsetting because why did she add them?

“That’s how mom makes it.” she’s the only one that still follows their mom’s recipe. The reason? Could be anything. But I have no doubt in my mind if she DIDN’T add the raisins if Donna had been around she would’ve been ridiculed even more.

I have such a soft spot in my heart for girls and their complex relationships with their moms and motherhood, and it makes her scene with cicero in the car that much more impactful. When cicero says he would let his kids make more mistakes and not been as careful, i almost started crying. Nat has a nickname from her mistakes and it seems like in her mom’s eyes she’s nothing but mistakes. And then her uncle tells her that she’ll be a good mother and that it’s okay for kids to make mistakes, great, even.

I’m so happy nat is in a place where she’s happy and supported. She has a husband who deeply understands her family and doesn’t judge her for it, even making an effort to try and include Donna. I was kind of meh about pete before season 2, but it solidified for me that he’s so so good for nat and a great character. He is so excited to be a dad, he’s patient and kind with her and her family, and he doesn’t call her sugar.

She’s nat. And she’s allowed to make mistakes.

#I have so many fucking feelings about them #maybe it’s me coming off of the high of succession’s equally emotionally damaged sibling trio #but I have nothing but love for natalie berzatto #she means so much to me #she’s joining the ranks of women on tv that are hated by their mothers just for being born a woman #my baby girl #I love her so much #the bear season 2 #the bear #natalie berzatto #pete the bear #carmy berzatto

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lurkingshan · 17 days

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Japanese QL Corner

This week we begin our farewell to two brilliant shows and welcome a newcomer. Of the shows airing now, all but one are streaming weekly on Gaga and the other is available via fansub.

Takara's Treasure

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses This was the final week for the main story (don’t despair, we get a special episode next week), and the show wrapped up our core romance arc beautifully. At its heart this is a simple story between two boys seeking connection and working up the confidence to pursue what they want without fear. We spent the first half of the show grounded in Taishin’s country mouse in the big city journey, and the second slowly peeling back Takara’s layers until we understood just how mutual their affection is. I was so impressed with the show’s steady, patient approach to revealing this character to us, and I love that through knowing and liking Taishin (perhaps even more than 100%), Takara is getting more comfortable with himself, reaching for what he wants, and having genuine moments of joy. I’m also excited for him to get to know Taishin’s family and feel some of the warmth and support he’s been missing. Looking forward to whatever glimpse of their future the show gives us next week.

Happy of the End

gif by @putterphubase

We knew this one was going to be dark, and hoo boy is it. Content warnings for the first two episodes:

Assault, child abandonment, childhood sexual slavery, domestic abuse, family violence, human trafficking, rape, sexual exploitation

We meet our main characters this week and learn the basics of their backstories (though there are still gaps that I expect will be filled in later on). Both of these men have lived hard lives, and it shows. They are not particularly good people, neither of them responds normally to the situations they find themselves in, their emotional wavelengths are often odd, and there is a recklessness to their behavior that speaks to a kind of ambivalence about survival. They recognize something in each other that draws them together, but even as they share their stories and spend time together, there are barriers between them. This story has a fairly bleak worldview, so I don’t expect it will follow the usual romance beats and I’m not counting on a happy ending. @bengiyo pointed out that the show seems to be narrated from a future perspective after the relationship ends, and @illgiveyouahint said the show feels “gently hopeless” which I think is a rather apt description of its tone.

This show is beautifully shot and feels steady and clear about its subject matter, but its themes are not for everyone. Proceed with caution, and ask for content warnings if you need them—I expect there will be difficult content in every episode. This one is dropping two episodes a week on Gaga, and there is also a fansub ongoing from @isaksbestpillow. Siiri’s subs will likely be more accurate, but I recommend at least background streaming on Gaga to make sure the show gets the official views.

I Hear the Sunspot

gif by @heretherebedork

I have already talked plenty about my current feelings of frustration with this show, so I won’t belabor the point. This week Taichi dropped out of university to go work full time at his new job despite his friends’ protests, we got a long Maya flashback and another instance of her clashing with Taichi, Kohei and Taichi continued to not say anything honest to each other as they said their goodbyes, and Kohei confessed without Taichi processing it yet again. The final episode appears to include a time skip, and then maybe they will have the conversation we’ve been waiting on for six weeks. Fingers crossed the finale makes all of this time spent in stasis feel worth it.

Note: I have to get this up early today due to my travel schedule, and at time of posting episode 7 of Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding was not yet available with English subs. I imagine @isaksbestpillow will post sometime soon and I will share when it goes up and include final thoughts in next week’s round up.

Tagging @bengiyo for the anime update.

#apologies for the janky gif insertion i am working on mobile this week #japanese ql corner #takara no vidro #takara's treasure #happy of the end #i hear the sunspot #hidamari ga kikoeru #mr mitsuya's planned feeding #mitsuya sensei no keikakutekina ezuke #twilight out of focus #japanese bl #shan shouts into the void

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lavender-bundle-blithe · 2 months

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BSD but Atsushi just... has the Book.

Whenever he was locked away, the place would be barren. It always has been. But somewhere in some time, the ground oddly looked uneven.

So, taking the chance, he pulled up a loose piece of the ground and saw it. A white book that looked to have stayed clean even when laying on the ground. It had no name, but it had a pretty pattern.

Atsushi had always loved reading, and it's more or less what he's used to doing. So he picks up the book and begins reading. It's text read of numerous, mystical things; fantasy and down-to-heart, future and the past, of celebration, liberation, adventure. It was as if all the books Atsushi has managed to read in the library, all its genres, all in one book.

It brought him comfort in this cold hell of his, reading the text to almost a brand new story the next time he finds himself in his gaze. It... It made him seek for the comfort the book has repeatedly explored, over and over and over again. Repeatedly explored the prospect of a family, a family the protagonist chooses.

But the headmaster always seems to disregard his thoughts, even downplaying them, saying that he won't ever find a family. That was all the more reason he wanted to keep this book, to protect it, protect their stories. Because he had an irksome feeling that if the headmaster would find out about it, he'd burn it and make Atsushi watch as punishment.

That has been several years ago, back when he was a child. Now 18 and facing all odds the headmaster told him, he found his family in the Armed Detective Agency. He has kept the book close to him but still hidden away, managing to sneak it out with him when he was kicked out initially.

And because of how much stories he's read from the book, the others would always come to him and listen to more. Atsushi didn't think of himself as a good storyteller, but oh well.

But oh boy was he not expecting that the book from his childhood would be the source of all kinds of problems they would be facing.

(A/N: I've actually written a whole other ordeal about this one, along the lines of Atsushi finding the book when he was locked away (I wasn't aware that the book would just be in the library like that, from one of Atsushi's flashbacks). But in classic ME fashion, it was sskk =w=" | Canon divergence, Atsushi is a civilian and lives with the Akutagawa siblings, and is always reading the book. Unfortunately I couldn't touch the idea to my expectations and ended up deleting it entirely. And even if I tried finding it, it's all but buried away in those many days and hours of the "Last Edit" part of Google Docs. regardless, have this ^w^ | And maybe one day, I can touch back to this idea.)

#lavender ideas #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd atsushi

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snakes-and-fluff · 2 months

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Milgram drought be hitting hard... Anyway I was thinking what an anime of each prisoner's personal story might look like (assuming all isolated from each other and Milgram as a facility does not exist) ((also assume each 12 episodes long)) also assuming they're psychological dramas because. Milgram

Haruka: The main appeal is the artstyle, drawn like animated child's drawings for most of the time but a few scenes an episode is instead depicted in starkly realistic illustrations (not animated). It's told from the perspective of Haruka who keeps insisting he has a good life even as all the facts point otherwise, finally culminating in the murder late in the show, at which point the artstyle changes to be a strange mix of the previous two

Yuno: What first presents itself as a peppy slice-of-slice soon devolves into a painfully raw story of a teen girl. The winner of many awards but not that popular with most people who claim to find it too dry and boring

Fuuta: The murder happens towards the end of episode two but it isn't revealed to the audience exactly what happens until much later. Fuuta's behaviour clearly changes after that point and he keeps getting harassed by people who were previously friendly with him, but the actual flashback reveal is only in ep 8. The show leans very heavily into the "is he a bad person?" question and the fandom is known for starting debates about it in the comments of completely unrelated posts

Muu: It was a dark setup from the start but not many people expected a murder in episode 7. The anime switches POV between Muu and Rei until Rei dies, then it switches between Muu and a student counsellor (who doesn't know about the murder and is just trying to solve the bullying but the tension comes from the fact that the audience and Muu keep being worried about her potentially learning about the murder)

Shidou: The most niche of the bunch, some people weren't a fan of how medically accurate it was while others rejoiced in that fact. The whole thing is a flashback as it's established that Shidou has left the medical industry in the first episode but it is slowly revealed why and the circumstances behind his family's deaths as it goes on

Mahiru: Yuno's might have been a bit misleading at first but everyone who saw the promo material knew what was going down. Mahiru's managed to keep the dark twists under wraps, genuinely being sold as a cute love story though there were hints from the start. It's unclear when exactly the death happened because as it goes on it starts timeskipping and flashbacking without warning and it's clear that Mahiru isn't quite sure herself of what is actually happening

Kazui: Hinako is dead before the series even starts and it is actually told from the perspective of someone who works with Kazui slowly uncovering what happened out of morbid curiousity. Kazui is the very definition of unreliable narrator and nobody knows what to make of whatever information comes directly from him. Some fans don't like the way the show never seemed to decide on a single answer as to what happened while others praise it for it

Amane: The fandom is small but loud (though it is always recommended as "this one will tear your heart out"); the tale of a child embroiled in an awful home life, using a unique visual style of poppy colours and thick outlines to sharply contrast the horrible things being portrayed. The murder happens at the end of the last episode, giving the closest thing to a "happy ending" they could achieve for Amane, though it is left ambiguous what would happen to her next

Mikoto: Told in a non-chronological style, the reveal of the murder is towards the end (around episode 10) leaving the rest of the time as wrapup as Mikoto finally comes to accept the truth of the situation. There are still arguments in the fandom years after it ended if the murder was metaphorical or not

Kotoko: She's presented as a really cool vigilante at first but then it slowly unravels as she reveals more of her violent side and that her kill count is a LOT higher than previously thought. Her personality is divisive among fans but everyone can agree that the opening is a banger

DISCLAIMER: I just realised that some of these can be read as me throwing shade on the fans of a particular character; I promise 100% that isn't the case this was just a fun thought experiment!

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voxofthevoid · 23 days

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Like I said in my preliminary post about the chapter, my initial impression of JJK 268 was positive but lukewarm—kind of “okay, that’s decent but full of holes.” Then I made the mistake of thinking about it too much, and now my opinion is more like “that’s ass actually.”

Unflattering assessment of JJK 268 and the current state of the story to follow—stop reading here if you don’t want to see that.

There were two things I liked—and still like, to a certain extent—about the chapter: Yuuji’s final conversation with Sukuna and Gojou’s final letters. But past the initial approval, I’m finding severe issues with those as well.

The Letters

To tackle the lesser evil first, the letters are quite in character for Gojou, and the one to Megumi is on point. It’s perfect. The one to Nobara is where it falls apart. Her mother is a non-entity; her entire flashback has focused on her friendships, with Saori in particular. Her family is absent from the page/screen, and all we get are passing mentions hinting at her family dynamics. So why the fuck is that what Gojou’s letter focuses on?

I know the answer; there’s nothing else for him to tell her. They’re not close and barely know each other, so there’s no substance to their relationship the way there is with Gojou and Yuuji or Gojou and Megumi. What would have made a good letter to her was Saori’s address/number—but Gojou can’t reasonably give her that because there’s no feasible way he’d have known about Saori. Nobara sure as shit wouldn’t have told him. So it feels like Gege tacked on information about a random absent mother because the letter had to say something and this complements Megumi’s letter. It just falls flat as fuck because nobody cares, least of all Nobara herself.

What I think could have worked without having Gojou act out of character was a joke or some bullshit about her coma—something that shows his faith/hope that she’d wake up and be well without becoming emotional or trite. They weren’t close, but she was still a student he cared for. There are ways to show that without pulling a random family member into the equation.

Sukuna and Yuuji

Where do I even start?

In isolation, I adored the conversation they had at the end. It allows both of their personalities as well as their relationship to shine and stay true to themselves while delivering a powerful final exchange. There are several angles to it that fascinate me, especially the contrast between how nightmarish Yuuji's offer truly is and how tenderly he proposes it.

But how the fuck did they get there?

Specifically, how’d Yuuji go from trying to rip out Sukuna’s heart at the end of JJK 260 to being willing to give Sukuna a second chance to be his prisoner/companion until their mutual death? JJK 265 and even 266 lay out his reasoning, but how and when did he get to that point? Yuuji’s final attitude toward Sukuna has both empathy and sympathy: (i) he realizes that he and Sukuna were both shouldering curses out of their control and that it may have been nurture as much as nature that made them what they are, and (ii) he believes that Sukuna deserves a chance to be more than a cursed existence.

We never see why or how he develops these beliefs. A throwaway line from Sukuna about being a wretched child isn’t enough for Yuuji to write Heian era fanfiction in his head; frankly, Yuuji’s not the type. The only option is the much-referenced but so-far unused “resonance” giving Yuuji actual insights into Sukuna’s emotions or backstory, but we don’t see that. We don’t even get hints of that. Yuuji’s willing to tear Sukuna apart and then he’s willing to coexist with him. Forget missing steps, there’s an entire missing floor here.

I’m all for stories that require the reader to engage in inference and analysis, but you still need solid material to prompt such conclusions. JJK is lacking that. There are hints of it. You can squint and see the building blocks of Yuuji’s eventual mindset. But it feels like entire chapters are missing between his attitude in 260 and 265 and also between 265 and 268.

The Fingers

You know how Sukuna’s death only being possible via a vessel has been a driving factor behind the entire plot? Well, I guess we can just ignore that. Just pull him out and let him disintegrate as a lump—problem solved. Even the remaining finger isn’t a problem anymore! That’d have made sense given it’s still only one finger—although even one-finger Sukuna is immensely powerful and might be an issue in the future, if the next generations are weaker than the current one. But instead, it’s framed as that finger not even having the power to connect to Sukuna’s soul at all. Even that’s acceptable in isolation, except this entire thing contradicts how the fingers and Sukuna’s existence have been framed until this point.

Just a few chapters ago, Sukuna was vomiting up fingers as the connection between his soul and Megumi’s body was assaulted. Hell, he swallowed them right back. The natural conclusion here would be that tearing him from Megumi’s body would result in four fingers—Yuuji’s little finger and three original Sukuna fingers—containing some 95% of Sukuna’s soul/power. It also meant someone would need to die to vanquish Sukuna because a vessel was necessary. The question was whether it’d be Megumi or Yuuji.

The answer, apparently, is that you don’t need a vessel at all. Yuuji’s offer to him is framed as him giving Sukuna grace—sure, he’d be caged in and then die with Yuuji sooner or later, likely sooner, but Yuuji's still offering him a longer life. And then Sukuna dies without a vessel. So what was the point of it all? The change is flimsily justified while contradicting the very premise of the story, and not only does it make Sukuna’s end underwhelming, but it also cheapens all the pain and horror until this point.

Tonal Dissonance

This chapter feels like two halves of two different chapters stitched together. Compare the aftermath of the Shibuya Incident to this aftermath—where’s the gravity, the grief? The end of the battle doesn’t get time to settle before the trio are back together, healed and happy.

Happy endings and tragic endings are both good endings—when they’re well crafted and cohesive. And JJK hasn’t ended yet, but the battle with Sukuna did, and we jump right into an aftermath that has no respect for the severity and devastation of the fight that preceded it. Seeing Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara happy makes me feel nothing; it doesn’t even seem part of the same story. We see no hints of Megumi or Nobara really acknowledging everything that happened while they were possessed and unconscious, respectively. There’s no real sense of consequence either, which is just jarring after all the character deaths and associated emotions in the previous chapters.

The thing is, I think this could have been mitigated by shifting Megumi’s waking and what follows into a new chapter. It wouldn’t fix the timeline issues—it looks like Megumi’s waking several hours, maybe a day or two max, after the fight ended—but it’d be less abrupt. Follow Uraume’s death with a long pan of Shinjuku and maybe snapshots of what the survivors are up to: Yuuji gathering up Megumi’s conscious body; the state of Yuuta, Toudou, and Hana, as well as the remaining sorcerers who were involved in the fight; a quick look at the colonies and the incarnated/awakened sorcerers Kenjaku didn’t manage to kill. Just something to let the end of the fight sink in—a proper transition.

Honestly, I feel like Gege’s ticking off a few boxes in their outline to get this story done with. Maybe it’s burnout, maybe it’s loss of interest; I don’t know. But the end result is that there’s the shape of a story—an arc, an ending—that could have been incredible but is instead a sad, disintegrating lump on the ground, much like Sukuna was in the end.

There are three more chapters, so I assume some of my remaining questions or issues will be addressed, like the terms of the Kenjaku–Sukuna binding vow, the state of Japanese society, the fate of the surviving CG players and the CG itself, the Tengen fetus that’s presumably still inside Megumi, etc. They may even address some of the inconsistencies and ambiguities raised above. But this entire arc has already suffered from an excess of post-hoc explanations, and more of that won’t really make it a stronger or better story.

#itadori yuuji #sukuna #jjk 268 #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk spoilers #jjk leaks

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sharkiegorath · 5 months

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Of the main three, Maximus was taken by a militant cult as a child after his home was destroyed, and Lucy was born into a mad scientist corporation-based pseudo-cult - but Cooper, an original American, is the one who’s the most broken. It’s not only because he’s lived the longest and therefore been through the most shit. He believed the most in the most pervasive and powerful culture, and it was the deepest betrayal.

Max and other Brotherhood members, even Thaddeus, are entirely aware of how they're abused and trapped. Lucy follows the values she was taught and genuinely believes in kindness, but she quickly accepts the truth about Vault-Tec and her father. In Cooper’s flashbacks, he’s by far the most resistant to challenges to his beliefs and personal security. He scoffs at his best friend’s criticism and walks out of a meeting where he agrees with the sentiment not so deep down. He throws around the word ‘commie’ because his society actually has a label for dissidents. He's hesitant to spy on Barb not just because he respects her but because he's scared of the truth. As the truth gains on him, his reaction is consistently denial - and it's ambiguous to what extent that's his own personality and to what extent it's cultural conditioning. Unlike other parents, he was honest with his daughter about the war, but he still wanted to believe a nuke was ‘just a fire’.

In FO analyses there’s a common assumption that the Pre-War world was ‘still better’ and the post-apocalypse is regression. Actually, it’s not that simple. The current cultures are a continuation, not a reset. The wasteland’s brutality makes it possible for people like Max and Lucy to recognize the awful reality behind people claiming to protect them. They don’t cling to lies; at this point, they probably wouldn't choose to give their whole lives for a lie. Pre-War, Cooper fought and worked for outright evil people, but he couldn’t tell at first because his life was pretty good. The depth of indoctrination corresponds to how normal life seems - from the Brotherhood's open contempt for itself to Vault 33's cheery obsession with Reclamation Day to the last days of the upper class in Pre-War America.

And it's so interesting how they relate to each other?? Max tries to do things Lucy’s way, even after it doesn’t work, and he starts agreeing that it’s better to be compassionate than to demand and take. Lucy understands that morality is complex after two weeks in the wasteland, easily forgiving Max for lying, then believing Moldaver's story. Meanwhile the Ghoul tried to show Lucy that the world is terrible and she'll end up like him - not because Cooper was an asshole at heart, but because that complete loss of idealism happened to him, and even though he was once nice and honorable, his original worldview already emphasized Being Right or Proving a Point.

#fallout meta #fallout #cooper howard #lucy maclean #maximus fallout #tags i am putting you there do not bite me do not bite me do not bite me #sharkie plays fallout #anyway i love the main three no notes #fallout tv

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xielianlover2 · 5 months

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Okay. I need to talk about Xie Lian. This is gonna be a bit rambly, jumbled, and unedited because I am kinda sleep-deprived right now.

Out of every fictional character I’ve read about… Xie Lian stands out as possessing the most remarkable mental fortitude and resilience I’ve ever seen. He’s such a brave and stubborn man. He’s, well… a diamond in the rough.

I always thought him to be really mature for his age in the flashbacks. He was what, only around 16-17? And then after he descended down to save his kingdom, he was around the mental age of 20. He was barely an adult. Yet he had his whole kingdom’s fate on his shoulders, and the way he was treated was beyond horrible.

That’s the problem with getting assigned the role of a leader… a general even. The number of deaths, their successes, their losses all fall upon the one who had the most status, most importance. So many people blamed Xie Lian for the fall on Xianle, but really, none of that was on him. Xianle was gonna fall either way due to all the politics and strife. But my goodness. To put all that blame on a child??? It’s so despicable.

It made me terribly sad to see Xie Lian blame himself for what happened to Xianle and his people, when they were the ones who put him on a pedestal and did nothing to help ease his burdens. I think Xie Lian has natural charisma and could be a good leader, however he does not have the heart for it. He cares too much. He’s the type who wants to save everyone. He doesn’t like or want to see people suffer, even those considered his enemies.

Xie Lian suffers a lot. He goes through so much, goes to unimaginable suffering constantly for 800 years. However, the core message of the series is that Xie Lian, as an individual, has the power to decide his own fate. He has the power to decide to remain pure at heart in the face of immeasurable suffering and to not give into Bai Wuxiang’s manipulations.

His suffering can’t even be put into words. To be blamed for a whole kingdom dying. To blame himself for the horrifying Human-Face disease. Then he was banished and cursed and hunted by the Yong’an’s people. He became extremely depressed on top of trying to survive and take care of his parents each day. Mu Qing helped a lot, but he too eventually left. He resorted to stealing, which went completely against his morals. He was cornered by 33 Heavenly Officials, who humiliated and bullied him, Mu Qing being one of the people involved as well. All the while being haunted bu Bai Wuxiang, who’s truly a sadistic, unredeemable monster. Then he was brutally stabbed fatally hundreds of times in the most horrific way possible and the recovery-time was just two months of pain with the monster who made it all happen keeping him for company. Then Feng Xin left because Xie Lian changed too much, was too hurt and numb and lashed out.

Then his parents left him too in a way. And Xie Lian probably blames himself for that. So at that point, Xie Lian just craved death. But he couldn’t even die because of the cursed shackle.

But still. Still. Even after going after Lang Ying and having Wu Ming burn down the palace and could release the Human-Face disease all over the Yong’an kingdom.

He still chose to pin himself on the ground outside with the same sword that killed him hundreds of times… and waited for three whole days for one, just one person, one samaritan to help him. He still had a dredge of hope in humanity. In people. Because in the end, Xie Lian is an empathetic and kind person. He believes and has hope in people- because he is a pure-hearted person himself, and has to believe there are other people like him out there. Because he can’t be the only one. (He’s not, but a person like him is one out of millions.)

And deep inside he starts to believe Bai Wuxiang’s words when he come on the third day to convince him that this test/social experiment he was doing was pointless. That it is all so hopeless, and these people aren’t worth living, not after how much Xie Lian suffered at their hands.

But all it took was one person. He was waiting. To be proved wrong. He wanted to be proved wrong, even after everything. That truly… I don’t have words for how amazing that is.

And then. Even after 800 years of having literally nothing. 800 years of loneliness, suffering, and depression. Being nailed through the heart and buried alive for an undetermined time. Just so he could save more people again. He still remained the same. So pure of heart. So sweet and kind. He even asked for his second shackle to take away his luck so other people more “deserving” than him can take it.

He still has his problems. His mental health is terrible. He’s very depressed. He chose to stay in a coffin for what could be a hundred years because of self-flagellation probably.

He has no self-esteem, except he’s so interestingly contradictory. He loathes himself, but he also believes he’s completely right. If Xie Lian had to do everything over again, I have no doubt he would do the same thing, except the second-time, maybe blame himself less, because he knows deep down what he is doing is right. He has a simple, but strict moral code. All he wants to do is the right thing. That means saving the common people. Interfere and help if he sees someone suffering. If he can save one person, he will save one person. If he can save a hundred people, he will save a hundred people.

What a stubborn, beautiful person.

Book 8: “I won’t! I won’t I won’t change!”… He’s been pent up for far too long. It was as though he’d been waiting for a chance like this all these years, and tears rolled as he screamed. “I won’t change! Even if it’s painful, even if I die, I won’t change, I will never change!”

And he didn’t. He has more than proven that he won’t change even if he died a hundred times. He won’t change even if he died a million times. Even as a young adult, he stood in front of a whole village of people after experiencing what is it like to feel stabbed fatally hundred of times already and was ready to do it all over again willingly. With even more people, even a whole kingdom of people.

Insane does not even begin to cover it. What an extraordinary resilient and compassionate person.

Xie Lian is truly… something else. Something beyond words. He is also the only type of God I would willingly pray to.

I understand why Hua Cheng would go to any extent for him.

#tgcf #xie lian #xie lian rant #my favorite character #tian guan ci fu #heaven official's blessing #mo #mo xiang tong xiu #mxtx #brilliant character #analysis?

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iwantjaketosullyme · 1 year

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𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝, 𝐢'𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

…but, big spoon, you have so much to do and i have nothing ahead of me.

➺ pairing: jake sully x omatikaya!reader (fluff/angst) ➺ summary: seeing jake was easy, seeing toruk makto not so much. (w/c: 2.8k) ➺ warnings: minor mentions of war & death a/n: inspired by mitski's 'your best american girl' nd dedicated to our fav all-american boy <33 na'vi dictionary at the end !! gif credit goes to @/worldofpandora

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

Seeing Jake was easy.

It was shirking clan chores in favour of being held in the safe cocoon of his capable arms on a lazy afternoon, the two of you splayed out on the forest floor as it welcomed you into its clutch, soft grass embracing you, gentle breeze lulling him to sleep. As he slumbers you trace his features gently, eyes first, then nose.

You coast over the worry line that creases just like that when he senses a formidable threat, like the rogue palulukan that strayed a little too close to camp the previous week (or the persistent Omatikaya child that insists on having you braid his hair exactly when Jake’s sat down for you to rebraid his, meaning a rushed job and less scalp scratches for him).

Cautious fingertips are guided by the smattering of tanhi that litter his face, a map provided by Eywa, tiny stars aligning to lead you to your final destination - your favourite destination – his lips.

Being Seen by Jake was even easier.

- flashback -

Two weeks have passed since the fateful day your people reclaimed your ancestral home from the Sky People. The injured have been treated and deceased loved ones have been mourned and committed to Eywa. Now, the clan must celebrate.

Young ones chase after each other's tails (knowing the mood is good enough for them to escape chastisement from their parents), potential lovers dance around their feelings as they dance around the communal fire and elders thank the Great Mother for the privilege of witnessing another night like this – too many eclipses have passed since the clan could revel in shared joy like this.

The evening’s jubilations wind down as eclipse approaches, but the air is still charged with a sense of collective anticipation; you are yet to do what you do best. Gathered clan members form a blue sea, bioluminescent tanhi a mirror image of the stars in the skies above as they seat themselves on fallen logs.

Deep inhale, shoulders rolled back, head held high and gaze cast over young and old alike, you open your mouth and sing. Entranced, Jake looks up from where he was refilling his cup of pongu pongu (after falling victim to a particularly wily adolescent Na’vi bartering for the drink reserved for adults of the clan) and his amber gaze settles on you as he listens to the legend of a valiant Omatikaya warrior made song. His legend.

His song rolls off your tongue, volume ebbing and flowing like the waters of the Eastern Sea, reaching ‘ahhs’ and throaty ‘oohs’ conveying the highs and lows of his Pandoran alterlife. Sweeping peaks and troughs in the notes you belt out paint the picture in his mind of the mountains climbed and valleys traversed on his quest to find his humanity in a Na’vi body. Dulcet tones undulate from the soft pillows of your lips into the attentive ears of every clan member gathered around the fire, demanding the rapt attention of all that can and will listen.

Your voice betrays you, wavering slightly when you make sudden eye contact with Jake. He gawks at you unashamedly, his expression reminding you of the awe and excitement of a child watching kenten unfurl their luminous fans for the first time. Inwardly, you curse the power that this vrrtep has over you; you never get distracted! No doubt Ninat would be teasing you about this mishap til Eywa calls you home. That skxawng always liked to argue that she’s the better vocalist.

Final note lingering in the air and resonating in the hearts of those around you, you graciously accept the compliments offered. Soon after, you make a swift break for your marui, unaware of your newly acquired shadow following after your hurried steps as if still woefully caught in the spell your voice had cast upon him.

You flit about the marui, humming under your breath as you search for the herb and nectar concoction Tsahik gave you after overhearing you complaining to Neytiri about putting your vocal cords under too much pressure. An appreciative hum leaves your parted lips as the mixture soothes your throat, before a male, gravelly and obnoxious “Ah, shit!” cuts through your minute of peace, followed by the clang of a pot falling.

A stunned squeak escapes you before you have the chance to stop it, eyes widening as your ears fold back and your brow muscles raise in shock before furrowing in confusion. A moment passes.

You slowly crane your neck to look behind you, chancing a glance at whatever, whoever it is that managed to sneak into your marui and elicit such an embarrassing reaction from you. The fallen pot is still rattling on the floor as you lock eyes with the perpetrator and your upper lip raises into a sneer. Of course, you think to yourself, as if the vrrtep has not bothered me enough tonight he has come back for more!

“Oel ngati kameie,” Jake greets awkwardly, eyes shifting between your defensive posture and the offensive pot that he had tripped over in his dazed stupor. He brings his fingertips to his forehead before extending them towards you in a gesture of respect, and for a moment you are pulled from your derisive train of thoughts as your eyes follow the raised veins on his hands and you feel an unfamiliar feeling flutter in the pit of your stomach – much like the kindling of a new flame. Your examination of his anatomy comes to an abrupt stop when your eyes hone in on his outstretched fingers. Four fingers. Alien fingers.

“What is it that you want?” You throw the words at him, eyeing him up and down in an admittedly pathetic attempt to intimidate him. You are well aware of his prowess as a warrior; you’d only spent the latter part of the evening waxing poetic about it. Despite this, you cannot help but feel as if you must prove yourself to be a formidable threat to him, to this man who was once a tawtute imposter in a Na’vi body and has now made himself an imposter in your home.

He inches towards you cautiously, arms outstretched by his sides and palms open, intending to communicate his lack of malintention as he clears his throat and opens his mouth to answer you. Your eyes remain vigilant, ears pointing up, alert and awaiting his response. A series of unintelligible noises is all you hear, his mouth opening and closing in such a stupid way that you almost find it endearing. Almost.

Further incensed by the lack of answer, you jerk your head towards him, tail lashing behind you, impatient, “What is it then? Speak!” You begin to pace in front of him, agitated and expectant of an explanation. “Or do you only know how to stare?”

As if jolted back to reality, Jake blinks blankly before retorting “Damn, you sound just as good when you talk, pretty girl”. Astounded, your pacing comes to a halt, allowing you to baulk at his insolence – there is a notable pause as you compose yourself once more. His lips pull back into a self-satisfied smirk as he greedily absorbs your reaction, and there is a dangerous glint in his eyes, eyes too small to belong to a native Na’vi, that calls to you. You decline the call decisively.

“You still have not answered my question, Jakesully,” you attempt to regain control of this odd interaction, remaining firm in your affronted demeanour. “Speak!”

He lets out a huff of laughter under his breath, made bashful by the reminder of his inexplicable attraction towards you. “Well…I guess I heard ya singin’ out there and I-” he shakes his head, looks down and brushes a hand over his face, lips puckering to blow a gentle whoosh of air as he exhales. You feel his breath waft over your face and refuse to register the way it stokes the flame within you.

“I knew I gotta tell ya that you sound amazing, heavenly, even, unlike anything I’ve ever hea-” his reverent rambling is cut short by your cackle that pierces his ears that had perked up in delight while he sang your praises. He looks up to observe you doubling over in sarcastic laughter and waits, confused as ever, for you to explain yourself.

“Skxawng,” you rebuke, “do not insult my intelligence by suggesting you understood a single word other than your name. Neytiri has told me of your incompetence,” you lower your voice and let the venom seep into your tone, “Jakesully.”

He meets your narrowed eyes with a challenge in his stare, his right eyebrow, yet another tawtute feature, quirking up. “You’re wrong y’know,” he tilts his head to the right and nods as if still contemplating your rude interjection. In spite of his shock, he does not appear deterred in any way and for a moment you fear that your attempt at resistance is futile. Perhaps you have grossly underestimated his proficiency at your native language and have embarrassed yourself.

He continues, “I understood you calling me a skxawng just now.” A cheeky smile creeps onto his face as he basks in his ability to rile you up. “But I figure that might as well be my name with how many times Neytiri’s called me that”.

Insistent on finding a fault in his words, you give him an incredulous look and respond, “Now you dare to criticise the tsakarem?” A disbelieving scoff leaves your lips. “Impertinence!” Your words, however, do not have their desired effect as he remains unbothered by your jabs, seeing through them completely.

“C’mon pretty girl,” Jake tries to reason with you, “y’know that’s not what I meant.” Encouraged by the involuntary huff of defeat that leaves your body that has grown weary from the night’s activities and this back and forth that is honestly fraying your nerves, Jake perseveres with the determination of the Marine that he is. “Now stop deflecting ‘nd take the compliment.” You relent, albeit reluctantly. “Call me crazy but the way you sang out there…it felt like I knew exactly what you were sayin’, even with my thick Jarhead skull.”

He takes a breath before more words tumble out of his mouth. “I know you were singin’ about me. I never thought I would mean enough to the Omatikaya people for someone to write a song about me.” He surprises you by laughing self-deprecatingly – in the short time you have interacted with him you have become used to his natural bravado. “I never thought I would be enough for anyone to write a song about me.”

Jake wants to tell you more. He yearns to speak of the cosmic force, the pull he felt towards you the moment he heard your voice for the first time. The pull he feels tugging at his heartstrings now, plucking away at them, composing a tune to accompany the siren song of your voice. For a moment he thinks he might just really believe this Eywa shit now.

But he doesn’t tell you. For once in his life he holds back. Instead, he moves even closer to you, every inch of his eight foot figure towering over you as he encroaches on your personal space. Your eyes widen, pupils dilating as you take him in. All of him.

Spurred on by your favourable change in expression, Jake reaches forward to place a warm hand on the snug of your neck. His other hand’s forefinger and thumb frame your dazed face as he caresses your cheek with a reverential tenderness you would have never attributed to him. He shifts his grip down to your chin and tilts your face upwards, so that eye meets eye.

As your steely resolve weakens into something soft, something pliable, you are rendered boneless against your own will, putty in his hands – carbon fiber-reinforced bones be damned. He is held captive by the unexpected, soft trill of your laughter, spirited away by the light breeze that has entered like the melody of a windchime. Eyes of molten gold bore into your soul and he sees you. He Sees you.

- end of flashback -

Seeing Toruk Makto, however, was anything but easy.

You smile to yourself as you recount how you and Jake met, but are quickly sobered by the realisation that no other clan member would even fathom speaking to Jake so disrespectfully – speaking to Toruk Makto so disrespectfully. And so you are forced to confront the reason why you could not stand the man, even if he ensured your clan’s survival by bringing an end to The Great Sorrow.

You fiddle with the purple tassels of your breast covering, made up of the fallen strands of a tawtsngal plant that you had painstakingly braided to be in likeness to the whispering tendrils of the Utraya Mokri. The Tree of Voices.

To the ignorant tawtute that threatened to populate your beloved Eywa’eveng like pests it was simply one of the many flux vortex hubs that rendered their alien inventions useless, stripping them of their ill-perceived superiority and reminding them that they do not belong here. But to you, it was an awe-inspiring wonder that was the source of many a song composed by you and crooned into the ear of a fussy baby, sung to soothe an ill elder or belted out to relay the ballad of a beloved fallen warrior.

With the stories whispered in your ears by the ancestors, you weave the tapestry of the clan in song form. It is for this reason that Jake had taken to affectionately calling you ‘parrot’, explaining to you that they were birds that once lived on Earth and repeated what was said by others.

Your garment was not only of totemic value, symbolising your role in the clan as an esteemed singer, but was also a love letter to the sacred place that birthed your passion for the art of song - and in doing so established your roots in the intricate network of the clan.

If only you had known of what was to come, you lament. That a day would come when the very roots of the tree that planted you firmly within the clan would be so easily uprooted by the wretched Sky People and their demon machines. On that day, you felt as if your place in the clan was uprooted with it; you had lost your communication channel with the ancestors, and therefore your muse.

You sit up and detach Jake’s arm, limp with sleep, from your waist. As you look upon his face you try to reconcile all the affection he has extended to you with the fact that he once was a Sky Person, working for their destructive cause.

Before you can stop it, the familiar feeling of resentment stirs within your belly as you question why the Great Mother would choose to allow your life’s joy to be so mercilessly taken from you and yet bestow the revered title of Toruk Makto on such a man as Jake.

How could she turn her back on you? Strip your pride from you? Replace you with a man born not of Na’vi, but of the immoral tawtute? You cannot help but feel that Jake is more Omatikaya than you ever will be now, as you think of what you long to be.

His mate.

Mate to Toruk Makto, rider of last shadow, yet unworthy to stand with him, even in his shadow. The honour of being under this dark, ominous, yet protective shroud was reserved for a select few - the chosen ones. Proven warriors who have sacrificed their lives, their existence on this terrestrial plane for Toruk Makto, like Tsu’tey, or dutiful daughters who have overcome prejudices born from murder for Toruk Makto, like Neytiri. Not for glorified parrots. Not for you.

You heave a gentle sigh, banishing those thoughts with a soft shake of your head and rest your head back on Jake’s shoulder. Tense shoulders loosen as you shuffle back into the warm comfort of his body. Your finger begins tracing again, up, up, up his arm before a tentative hand opens up to grasp one of his larger ones.

Curious eyes explore the network of veins that branch out along his hand like the roots of a tree, like the roots of the Utraya Mokri. You feel the heat rush to your cheeks as you reminisce the first time you had been in such proximity to the veins on his hand and the feelings they aroused in you back then.

Perhaps, you muse, you could find solace in him the same way you once did in your sacred trees. You lean in, pursed lips relaxing to place a tender kiss on each of Jake's fingers, all four of them. The same fingers that once instilled a deep rage within you. The same fingers that held you with a love that can only be Eywa-given. The same fingers used to tame the mighty Toruk. A part of you, no matter how distant or small, knows that in these capable hands you can rest easy.

So yes, your struggle to See Toruk Makto may yet prevail, but Jake? Jake you would always See. It is with this conclusion that your hold on his arm slackens, and half-lidded eyes flutter close. You slot yourself into the space within his body that is made for you. Two bodies mould into one. Little spoon into big spoon.

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

na’vi dictionary

palulukan - thanator // tanhi - na’vi bioluminescent freckles // pongu pongu - na’vi alcoholic beverage // kenten - fan lizards // marui - tent // oel ngati kameie - I see you // skxawng - idiot // tsakarem - tsahik-in-training // tawtsngal - purple pandoran flower // tawtute - sky person, sky people // eywa’eveng - na’vi word for pandora

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