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pallastrology · 8 months

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the midheaven and imum coeli

aries on the midheaven makes for a native that aspires towards independence. they are natural hunters, relentless in their pursuit of their goals. they often have a reputation for having authority issues, and this can be true, they don’t cope well with working under the boot of other people, but they aren’t difficult to work with in general; when given the opportunity to work with someone they can build a strong connection with and when given a common, meaningful goal, aries midheavens are wonderful team members and are encouraging, passionate and energetic. with the midheaven in aries the lower heaven is in libra, and that’s where we see that slightly uncharacteristic talent for working in partnerships. growing up, the natives may have lived in a household where everything had to look perfect, where there were poor boundaries and avoidance and comfort-seeking from caregivers, rather than firm but fair treatment. the native had to grow up quickly and is very much a self-made individual now, but in some ways, they can feel stunted, like they’re stuck developmentally. they need to learn to uphold boundaries without becoming militant, to work with others while still supporting and encouraging themselves, to stay connected to the people that matter while they chase their prey.

taurus on the midheaven brings a desire for security. the native is artistic, stoic and determined. they don’t necessarily want fortune and fame, but they want to be valued and respected. they aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty or put in long hours and hard work to get to where they’re aiming for. their career paths can sometimes look more erratic than you’d expect for an earth placement, and this is because taurus midheavens often have issues with under - or over - valuing themselves, taking on meaningless work because they feel they haven’t earned better, or refusing opportunities out of stubbornness or a feeling of being out of their league. they work well with others when they are given time and patience, because these natives often have trust issues and can’t open up easily. with the midheaven in taurus the lower heaven is in scorpio, and a lot starts to make sense. they often grew up in homes with intense emotions and little in the way of healthy outlets or communication, homes where distance and mistrust was the norm. secrets were often kept and love may have been treated as a resource to guard fiercely and rarely give away. as an adult, the native has to come to terms with these early experiences and understand that we all have inherent worth, and are all deserving of unconditional love; it isn’t a thing to be earned, it’s within us all and can - should - be shared freely.

with gemini on the midheaven, the native aspires towards connection. they are adaptable, expressive, creative thinkers, who are quick to ask questions and quicker to learn. they have a strong desire to fly the nest and discover some of the world for themselves, and they usually do just this. the native can sometimes struggle to focus; they have a tendency to spread themselves too thin and get overwhelmed. they can be rather insecure, lacking faith in themselves and their abilities at times. this is often down to their upbringing. as a gemini midheaven, they have the lower heaven in sagittarius, which can indicate that they felt alone a lot growing up. perhaps their caregivers were very busy people, or they struggled to make friends, or were ostracised in some way. they may have felt like an outsider as a child, and so relied on their hobbies and dreams to sustain them when other people couldn’t. as an adult, gemini midheavens are a little anxious, quick to doubt themselves, but quick to seek out connections too; whether social or developmental. they would suit a life path that involves flexibility, a fast pace, multiple routes to progression and the chance to experience many kinds of people. however, they do need to stay still sometimes and listen to themselves. they may feel inferior at times, but they can learn a lot from themselves if they open their hearts.

cancer on the midheaven makes for a native that aspires towards comfort. they are highly attuned creatures, sensitive to others’ emotions and needs without them needing to say a word. the native is naturally maternal, not necessarily in the sense of wanting children, but in that they have a lot of care and love to give to whom they choose. they are traditionally well-suited to a career in the public eye, as this nurturing quality reflects well on others. the intensity of their life will often ebb and flow quite dramatically, even as far as water signs go. they need periods off to just rest and return to themselves, or they burn out terribly. with cancer on the midheaven, capricorn is on the lower heaven. growing up, the home was often a cold and clinical place, not one where emotional connections were the norm. as a result, the native, often subconsciously - as is the nature of water signs - goes through life searching for the warmth and comfort they needed as a child. they can become dependent on loved ones, or go the other way and give everything to these loved ones without getting an ounce back. it can be really helpful for them to research reparenting and go through life with the concept in their mind’s eye.

leo on the midheaven brings a desire for adoration. they may aspire to be seen as a star in their chosen field, though, honest as they are, only want this reputation if they can back it up. they are deeply passionate people, who work and play hard. their creativity and generosity will take them far in life, if they can learn to accurately identify and work on their flaws. at times they can be stubborn, and this is both good and bad for them. they are driven and determined, but often lack self-belief and rely heavily on loved ones to encourage and praise them when things get hard. with leo on the midheaven, we find aquarius on the lower heaven, and so we learn a little more. the native’s childhood was often quite a lonely one. whether that’s through an unconventional upbringing, emotionally distant caregivers or living somewhere isolated from peers, the native often felt they were alone in the world. now, as an adult, they are powerful people with the heart of a child. they are honest and loving and often a lot more vulnerable than they appear. they want love and support, but can get stuck feeling they need to “perform” to earn affection, becoming reliant on external sources for validation. building some self-esteem and learning to validate their own experiences and emotions is invaluable for these gentle giants, and they start to step into their strengths.

with virgo on the midheaven, the native aspires towards health and contentment. they are quick thinking, careful and dedicated, with a tendency to plan ahead down to the minutiae. there can be a habit of rushing ahead to their chosen destination without being able to enjoy the path they’re taking, and they are prone to anxiety and overthinking. a virgo midheaven is a judgemental placement, in that they are constantly assessing their situation and adjusting accordingly. this can make them seem controlling or critical at times. with the midheaven in virgo, the lower heaven is in pisces. the native’s childhood was often a chaotic place, with few boundaries and little emotional stability, leaving them to fend for themselves in a confusing and uncertain world. the native’s need to feel in control now makes a little more sense, but living life in constant fear of losing it is no real way to live. making use of their penchant for routine, their ability to learn any skill - especially those they deem practical in some way - and their softer, compassionate side will come in handy to help them loosen the reins a little. over time, with the same devotion they give to their loved ones and their chosen field, things do feel less daunting.

libra on the midheaven makes for a native that aspires towards peace and beauty. they are soothing, reflective and highly intelligent, with a craving for an easy, yet meaningful life. they have a tendency to choose pleasure and comfort over growth, to their detriment. they can be very afraid of confrontation and authority, making themselves small and silent to avoid it. they are attracted to careers in the arts, human rights, or paths that find them developing one-on-one connections with people in some way. with libra on the midheaven, we find aries on the lower heaven. the native often grew up in an explosive house, where conflict was handled poorly and communication was last in line. their caregivers may have been draconian and not allowed them to develop much of their own self, which can explain their fascination with how people work and their struggle to maintain healthy boundaries as adults. they are sensitive individuals and work very hard to make others happy, often at their own expense. it takes time to spot these patterns and start mending them, but it’s worth the work to build a beautiful life, by and for one’s own self.

scorpio on the midheaven brings a desire to know all their is to know about their chosen field. they are intriguing, determined and passionate, but they aren’t loud about it. they chase their goals with a fierce drive and focus, which can leave them blinkered to the rest of their life in the process. they can be overachievers, pushing themselves beyond their limits, and are often attracted to the “darker” side of life; what classes as dark, i’ll leave up to the individual to decide for themselves. the native is an intense individual, and not one that makes friends easily, but they tend to make friends for life when they do, chart depending. scorpio on the midheaven means taurus is on the lower heaven. the native’s childhood was often quite traditional in terms of values, with strict and hardworking caregivers who perhaps had some secrets. difficulties were between family, and we therefore kept quiet and not addressed, left to fester. as an adult, scorpio midheaven looks to excise secrets and half-truths in their life, and lives a life of integrity at any cost, or alternately, if they internalise their early experiences, they live a double life, hiding themselves from the world. to thrive, they need to be honest with themselves and their loved ones, and make use of their intense drive to work on themselves and their goals.

with sagittarius on the midheaven, the native aspires towards growth. they are detached, curious and enthusiastic, with an insatiable lust for knowledge. they are often attracted to careers that involve a lot of education or personal development, but can find it hard to settle down. traditionally, this placement would denote travelling or uprooting for a career, which suits the native just fine as they don’t attach too easily, to places or people. with sagittarius on the midheaven, gemini is on the lower heaven. growing up was a lonely experience for the native, who spent a lot of time alone. they craved connection and spontaneity, but instead of their caregivers, who may have been anxious individuals themselves, they found solace in the world around them. as adults, they are very cool externally, but struggle to attach closely and may struggle with commitment issues and a need for freedom that beats everything else. if they can settle their hearts and learn to let people in, they’ll find that their unique way of seeing the world, their creative thinking and wealth of knowledge will serve them very well indeed, and the world is just waiting for them.

capricorn on the midheaven makes for a native that aspires towards independence, respect and mastery. they are driven, strong-willed and surprisingly fiery at times, with a strong sense of responsibility. they are natural leaders and managers, but often fail to see themselves this way until they’re older and wiser. they don’t tend to find the prospect of self-employment attractive, preferring instead a more structured pathway, though they suit working for themselves very well. with capricorn on the midheaven, cancer lies on the lower heaven. the native’s childhood was spent having to “mother” those around them, whether that is because of unstable emotions from caregivers meaning they couldn’t do it, or life circumstances leading to an inability. the native had to learn to put aside ideas deemed childish in order to try and become what was expected of them. as an adult, capricorn midheaven is capable of truly amazing feats, but they are prone to melancholy and find it hard to believe in themselves. when they do learn this vital skill, their passion, drive and determination will take them far indeed, and help them strike a balance between work and life.

aquarius on the midheaven brings a desire to better things. they are more patient than they seem, but their brains move quickly and they do find it hard when those around them can’t keep up. they need support from their people and a good network to really thrive, being a social sign despite the mad scientist stereotype. they may be attracted to almost any field, but it has to be important to the native. with aquarius on the midheaven, leo is on the lower heaven. throughout their childhood, they felt different. not necessarily a bad different, but they knew they were cut from a different cloth to their caregivers, or peers perhaps. being a compassionate and conflict-avoidant placement, they often tried to act the part of one of the gang, and now as an adult they can feel unsure of who they really are and where they really fit in. they have a wide range of often-contradictory interests and skills, and make friends with people of all backgrounds, so they are something of a patchwork quilt. but that’s no bad thing, and embracing every part of themselves will allow them to find meaning and support in life.

with pisces on the midheaven, the native aspires towards healing. they are kind, perceptive and willing. their goals can be ephemeral and easily clouded, leaving them confused about their place in the world. they aren’t afraid of work but are deeply afraid of being stuck in a situation that drains them, as a sensitive and honest individual. with the midheaven being in pisces, the lower heaven is in virgo and so this fear makes a lot more sense. growing up, the native lived in a stern, restrictive household, where they felt they had to be perfect to be loved. they may have struggled with health issues which caused them some delays, or other rifts in the family. now, as adults, they can lack direction and feel easily overwhelmed and burned out, falling into pits of despair and depression relatively easily when they don’t take extra care. they have a huge store of compassion and this will be their most vital asset, along with their genuine interest in humanity and the world. they have a willingness to help others, an understanding of the depth of the human soul, and the ability to sit and listen and absorb. building healthy boundaries and letting themselves explore will serve pisces midheaven well in life.

#pallastrology #astrology #astrology blog #astrology post #midheaven #mc-ic #imum coeli #midheaven in aries #midheaven in taurus #midheaven in gemini #midheaven in cancer #midheaven in leo #midheaven in virgo #midheaven in libra #midheaven in scorpio #midheaven in sagittarius #midheaven in capricorn #midheaven in aquarius #midheaven in pisces

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forever--darling · 1 year

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the outsider | neteyam x avatar!reader

summary: tension can only run so thick, so suffocatingly so until it brings you down with it. or so high until it snaps. after weeks of learning, it's clear that nothing has changed between you and neteyam. he still treats you like the outsider you are and after stepping on his toes just enough and with the help of lo'ak it seems all of the tension has built just high enough. so much so, it eventually snaps right in your face.

pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader

word count: 12.0k

warnings/notes: swearing, angst, slow burn, jealous neteyam with a splash of attitude, a flirting lo'ak (the usual), lo'ak x avatar!reader (one-sided), arguing, minor fluff

series masterlist | one of us: part three | requests are currently open for now

Pandora is so much more than the biology and the greed it had portrayed itself as for so long to the sky people. It’s so much more than all of it. It's about reading the trails, the tracks of the land, the tiniest scents and sounds. There is this constant flow of energy within everything: the spirits of animals, of the Omatikaya, and the way it all connects with the planet. That deep connection of the forest resides with the people. Neteyam talks about that network of energy and how it flows between all living things. He says that all energy is only borrowed and one day it has to be given back.

It's something you couldn’t fully understand through the journals and the video logs. It’s something no real sky person can understand until they live it. That’s what you were doing, every day. Living. Jake was right that at some point it all becomes backwards like out there is the true world, and in here is the dream. That had become your life — somehow overnight, within a month, you had felt like you had become a completely different person and you weren’t even close to being finished with your training.

The days began to blur together and before you had even known it, it had been a month. Four weeks of lessons and four weeks of settling into this completely different life. You were faster, your feet had gotten tougher and you were able to run farther every day. You had to learn to trust your body to know what to do, something you had been told the very first day.

With Neteyam, it's keep your mouth shut and learn fast or die. So you learned how to do that. No more getting angry with him and his attitude or questioning what he says. You just shut up and do it. It became easier for everyone that way. In fact, you had never even addressed that second day with one another. The day you had first rode a direhorse. No, after a few hours spent washing the mud away, you returned after dinner ready to learn again. He made you stay late that night and work on your pronunciation and it was never mentioned again. You had fallen asleep in front of the camera that night, the video log still running and Norm had to help you to bed.

That was another thing. Norm and Max were still making you do those and they had become far easier, your ability to speak your mind freely in front of a camera felt as if you were just talking to another person. It was natural, honest, and what they were meant for — real concrete evidence for the study. Your change was noticeable and everyone in that lab could see it. Max and Norm especially as your video logs had become longer and more animated, going on and on about energy and the relationships within the forest as well as the biology.

They saw Grace in you those nights. It was the tone in your voice, how you swung your hands around in the air as you talked about these people. Specifically, they took note of how you talked about the eldest Sully son, the future clan leader. You were still convinced he didn’t like you in the slightest but no one would ever believe you based on those video logs that you felt the same about him.

It had been a month and though you hadn’t had any more arguments, and continued to follow what he said, you were sure his hatred for you hadn’t lessened at all. He was bossy just as Kiri had told you the second day you were here and moody but he held it all in, sticking to his role with perfection. He didn’t budge an inch and it was difficult for you to get anything out of him about himself. It was like conversations about anything other than the Na’vi culture or your lessons were prohibited. If you tried or asked anything unrelated to that, he would give you this stern look; his brows furrowed, lips formed into a fine line. You would drop it then and there. Over the past four weeks though, you noticed more and more that the only person he ever gave that look to was you. Sure, he liked to put his brother in his place more than anyone but still, you were the only one he would look at that way.

“Again.”

His voice was unwavering, his eyebrows raised as he nodded at the bow in your hands. You sighed under your breath, already feeling the soreness within your muscles after having already pulled it back so many times that day. You knew why the lesson had gone too long though, you were unfocused, missing the target with pore posture. A posture that you both had spent hours upon hours for weeks perfecting. Just a few days ago you hit the target's center with a strong core and fingers that weren’t ripped open from the chord of the bow.

Somehow things had changed, your habits had reverted and you hadn’t hit the target once that day. Your biceps were tired from the constant pulling on the muscles, and you were sure your fingers were bleeding due to how the string rubbed against them. He wouldn’t let you go until you hit the target once. Only a few more lessons until he would allow you to go hunting for real.

“Pull back the bow, Y/N,” he stepped closer, eyes staring holes in the side of your face.

You were so close to rolling your eyes, so close, but then you remembered that he was already on edge and any sudden movements could piss him off. Instead, with a deep inhale, one that brought out a crack in your voice, you pulled your arm back stretching out the bow. You have to bite your tongue from wincing at the way the muscles in your back stretch creating pain, just as the already blistered skin of your fingers rubs further against the string of the bow. Based on the way Neteyam’s ear flickered and his eyes scanned your form, you knew it wasn’t good, possibly all wrong. You held the position though as he began to circle you, eyeing you from a different angle.

He gripped your forearm of the arm that held the bowstring, pushed it up higher, and stared at it for a second to ensure you kept it where he placed it. The burning between your shoulder blades worsened. You continued to stare forward knowing that if you turned your head to look at him he would just make you turn it back. He circled you again, his hand pressing firmly against your stomach, the touch making you shiver slightly at the contact. If he had noticed it, he didn’t react in any way. His palm pressed against your abdomen just above your belly button and pushed in to signal to you that you needed a stronger core. Something he knew he didn’t have to tell you after all these weeks.

“Better?” you asked, but he ignored you fully and instead walked around you so he was no longer in front of you but behind you. You felt his breath on the back of your neck and his hands ghosting over your sides.

Taking in a deep breath, you let your eyes flutter to a close, trying to ignore how badly you wanted to drop the position, to let your back and your arms rest. You knew better than to go against what he said so even though you could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, you remained still, back arm pulled up high and core flexed.

“What the hell happened these last few days?” he snapped, his voice gravely within your ear.

“What?” you turned your head slightly but before you could ask anymore a gasp was being ripped from your throat as his hands took a hold of your waist and pulled you flush against his chest. You stiffened underneath the foreign touch as after all these weeks, Neteyam had never once communicated through physical touch. He only really touched you when he couldn’t explain through words.

It was surprising how hard his grip was on your skin and how it seemed to rip a shiver out from you, starting at the base of your spine and traveling to your neck. “Your back needs to be straight like this. We’ve gone over this. It’s like you don’t listen to a fucking thing I say.”

His hand wrapped around you pressing against your stomach, demonstrating the way your back was straight and pressed up against his chest. “Not slouched and definitely not arched. Your pullback is weakened, which I thought I had taught you at least a week ago.”

He stepped away, clicking his tongue and though the burning was now completely unbearable, you kept it. This time your back remained straight even without his body pressed up against it, reinforcing it. Walking around you one more time he nodded in approval. You kept your eyes forward, staring at the target on the tree that Neteyam had marked two weeks ago when you started bow training. You felt like your arm was going to snap in half and like you were running out of breath, but you waited and waited for him to ensure that everything was perfect. Taking in a deep breath, you felt your abdomen contract and the string rub even worse against the blisters.

His eyes shifted from the side of your face to the target on the tree. He leaned forward and lowered his voice, “Release.”

At the sound of his voice, you exhaled and let go of the string, letting the bow snap just as you felt your back was going to. The arrow plunged forward, quicker than you could follow but you felt a pit form in your stomach. As well as the need to scream in frustration as you didn’t hear the thunk it usually made when it hit the tree, piercing the bark. Instead, it flew by the side of it by no more than an inch, disappearing into the bush. You had missed the target and the entire tree, which meant your aim was completely off.

“Fuck,” you groaned, your arms dropping to your sides, “That’s like the fourth time I’ve missed today.”

“Go again.” That was all he said and somehow that alone made you forget about your pact with yourself to not piss him off.

You glared over at him, “No.”

“No?” he tested the word, it made his tail swish in annoyance and his head tilt to the side.

“No,” you repeated, “I am not going to go again. My body is killing me.”

“And who’s fault is that?” he shot back, eyebrows raised as he crossed his arms over his chest. You noticed the way his biceps bulged but quickly looked away, worried he would see it. “I don’t know what’s been going on the last few days, but you have to get it together because we don’t have time for this. We can’t afford for you to take two steps back every time you get something right.”

“It’s not like I am doing it on purpose,” you sighed, peering down at your fingers to find that the blisters had broken open. You hissed as they brushed against one another.

“I don’t believe that,” he said, challenging your every word.

“Are you serious right now?” Your face pinched together in both surprise and anger.

He wasn’t being kind in the least but an annoying pain in your side. It was like he wanted you to yell in his face and tell him that he was wrong. It was like he was doing everything in his power to make you snap and scream at him. To scream and walk away. Almost as if he found satisfaction in your frustration. The slight quirk in his lips proved that. Though he was exasperated with you, a part of him found this completely amusing.

“Then what is it?”

“What is what?”

He took a step forward, so close that if you leaned any closer your chest would brush against his arms that still sat firmly crossed. His gaze narrowed at you but you didn’t look away this time. “You’re distracted. Unfocused. There’s something clearly on your mind and I am getting fucking tired of it.”

“Excuse me?” you asked.

You were unfocused because of him. He was making you crazy and even when you weren’t here, you were constantly thinking about the village, about him, about the fact that he hated you. He hated you and you had no idea why. That’s why you were so unfocused.

“You’re wasting my time. The longer it takes for you to learn, the more of my time you’re wasting. So whatever is distracting you, you need to fix it. Do you understand me?” he explained, not backing down from you but neither were you.

His words had completely pierced through your skin to the inside of your body and if he kept looking at you like that, you were sure that at any moment you would give in to him completely. If that spring in your stomach would snap, you weren’t sure if you would slap him across his face or do something else. Something far more stupid than the former and something you knew you wouldn’t be able to take back.

Instead, you held your composure, your pettiness rising to an all-time high as you lifted your hand to rest against your chest. Your expression softened for a few seconds as if you actually felt bad for him. Like at that moment you were pitying the great warrior and the fact that he had to deal with you.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t realize that you were the only one that has actual problems. I’m sorry that you have to hold up so much on your shoulders all by yourself. Oh, poor Neteyam. Poor future Olo’eyktan Neteyam. Your life is so hard.”

He fumed and it was clear for a moment he had fallen for your soft eyes and puckered lips. For a single moment, he thought you were being serious, but at the end of your sentence with the shift in your tone, he realized you were just being condescending. You were trying to hit him where it hurts, piss him off more than he already was. His arms fell to his sides, his hands tightening into fists as his breathing became more erratic. He glanced from your ears to your mouth and he realized all that he saw when he looked at you was fire.

You chuckled in annoyance, your hand tightening around the bow in your hand. Glancing down at it, you looked back up at him to see him still staring right through you, chewing on the bottom of his lip enough to make it bleed. He could taste the blood but he didn’t stop.

“You know what,” you paused and shoved the bow in his chest as hard as you could, “I think we’re done for today.”

He didn’t even flinch or shift backward but just took it from you anyway. No other words were expressed and all he could focus on was the fading sound of your footsteps as you stomped away. As soon as you were far enough away, he chucked the bow to the ground as hard as he could. He groaned and as much as he got under your skin, you left a permanent imprint on his.

Staring down at the bow, he cursed at himself. He had touched you. He had let his hands linger and pull you flat against his chest when you both knew he could have actively told you in minimal words what to do. Instead, he did the worst thing he could do. It was like he could still feel your warm smooth skin under his hands and your firm back pressed against his chest.

He screamed again, angry at himself and even more infuriated with you. He shouldn’t think of you that way, especially when you did nothing but make his life more difficult. You were talkative and argued with him, and did everything you could to waste his time. At least in his eyes, that’s what you were doing.

You made it back to the village just as the sun was setting, still stomping, cursing profanities underneath your breath. People stared at you as you walked by as they always did even after a month. They didn’t approach you. Some of them had started to in the past week and it was a great way to practice the language but they were still timid. Even now they were able to point out that your brows were furrowed, your lip tucked away in between your teeth and you walking too aggressively to not be upset. They watched, mumbling to one another as you walked, your tent the only place in mind to go.

Even the youngest Sully son could hear you from a few feet away and he stared as you approached him. You were stuck in your thoughts, talking to yourself, that cute angry look plastered across your face. He more than anyone noticed the pinched look and the fierceness that occupied your eyes. He also knew more than anyone that the cause was his older brother.

He watched as you walked right by him. Smiling, he called after you, “Y/N.”

“What?” you said, harsher than either of you expected as you spun around to face him. When your eyes met his, your entire body language shifted, the expression on your face softening. “Oh, sorry. Hi.”

“Done with lessons already?” he asked, curiously glancing over his shoulder, surprised to see Neteyam hadn’t followed you out of the forest.

You didn’t respond but instead peered down at your feet, that angry look returning to your face. That furrow in between your brows pinching together as your ears twitched. He then glanced around you to see your tail swishing rapidly back and forth.

“You okay?”

Slowly, you lifted your head and met his eyes, the same ones that resembled his brother’s way too much. You didn’t answer that question either, not feeling the slightest bit inclined to discuss it with anyone, especially Lo’ak. You knew it would only make you angry all over again and then you would say something you would regret; either spitting out names you wished to say to Neteyam’s face or worse admitting that you liked the way he handled you a little too much.

“You know you’re cute when you’re angry,” Lo’ak said, voice lowering as he said it.

At that, you felt your shoulders relax and you couldn’t help but smile over at him, his flirting usually annoyed you but at that moment you accepted it willingly. He watched as the sharpness in your eyes and the angry twitch of your tail disappeared. Instead, your head tilted curiously to the side, ears raised high and a small smirk forming on your face.

“Lo’ak,” you warned, staying put as he stepped closer that smug look slapped across his face.

“It’s true,” he said, “Might be even hotter in blue.”

“Watch it,” you laughed, shoving his shoulder.

Your laugh. He took in the sound and realized he could never get over that sound. He also knew that as cute as you were when you were angry, he found you even cuter when you had that smile on your face. He wanted to see more of it. The way your fangs poked out and a gleam entered your gold eyes. He wanted to hear the sound of your laugh again and again. He also knew no matter what Neteyam did, he couldn’t fix it, but more than anything he could distract you from it. Lo’ak was good at many things; getting into trouble, doing all of the things that were opposite of what he was supposed to do, and being a distraction. He was a great distraction.

“You want to get out of here?”

“Lo’ak, it’s almost dark.”

“Great Mother, my brother has made you into such a rule follower,” he rolled his eyes but his smile never left his face. “Oh wait, you’ve always been one of those. Once a fun killer always a fun killer.”

“Lo’ak—”

“We don’t have to go far.”

You closed one of your eyes, swayed from side to side, and tried to keep a smile from reappearing on your face because it would mean he had you right where he wanted you. He would have you giving in and running off with him to who knows where. He was enticing and he knew it. He was a troublemaker and he was asking you to give in to his white smile and his glimmery eyes. It was easy with him and it always had been though anyone else would disagree. They would find Lo’ak difficult, unable to follow the rules, and a complete pain. But he wasn’t that to you. He was Lo’ak — the fun and easy Sully son who just liked to make you smile.

The corners of your lips lifted up and he knew he had you. His ears twitched at that look on your face. “Yes?”

You nodded then. His own smile widened and he walked by you bumping your shoulder with his. He continued forward a few steps and then peered back at you, that smugness as evident as ever. “You coming?”

A part of you wasn’t sure how it had happened. How you had allowed it to happen. One minute you were standing in the middle of the village, just as the sun was setting, and then it was like you blinked and you were somewhere else. In the forest past dinner alone, looking every which way unsure of where to go. The foliage behind you was lit up like a bioluminescence trail of where you had come from and there were so many different creatures and insects lighting up the sky. It all provided so much light and you still had no idea where you were.

You couldn’t believe you had let Lo’ak talk you into this. One moment you were just walking through the forest talking and the next thing you knew he was telling you about this game. Before you could even agree, he was already gone, quietly like a thief into the night.

You felt like you were prey as you had ran and ran, eventually slowing to better calculate your steps. And your predator? Lo’ak. It felt like a weird game but you submitted to it anyway. You were to get back to the village before he could catch you. It was that simple but easy? Not so much. You were looking at the tracks, taking in the scents around you but it felt foreign. Because any moment you felt like you were close, you heard him nearby, getting closer and closer to catching you. Then you would run off, sprint as far as you could in the opposite direction, deeper into the forest, and then you would have to start all over.

Your thoughts shifted to the idea of something else catching you, a real predator, something far more dangerous than Lo’ak but he had assured you that you both would be fine. That you would remain close enough to the village and that it was still too light out for anything to come out and provoke you. Now, as you stared forward at the dark forest with far too many shadows you weren’t as convinced.

Bending down, you let your fingers trace your own tracks in the mud as you looked up all around you. You could just follow them back to where you started and to where it felt safer, but you were hesitant to go back in the direction you were sure he was. You could take a different route, though risking you getting more lost, you could avoid Lo’ak. Where safety would be the better option, you were also just as competitive with a desire to win.

As you were trying to decide in your head, you heard the sound of a twig snap behind you, so loud it had to have been from a person or something else. Your head turned in that direction, your ears twitching hoping to catch any other sound but it was silent after that. Too silent and then it was as if something was watching you and waiting. Waiting for the perfect moment to jump out and claim its prey — you. Slowly, you stood to your feet and took a deep breath, knowing you had to make up your mind fast in case it wasn’t Lo’ak.

After a few seconds, you began to take off, in the opposite direction of the tracks, away from the village and towards the inner depths of the forest. As you run, though, more noises are heard, and they weren’t that far behind you. It was the sound of quick footsteps following you, closely. You felt your heart rate pick up, a small inkling of fear forming as a part of you worried about the worst possible scenario. All you had on you was your knife, your bow you had thrown at Neteyam hours ago. No other weapon to protect yourself in case this had turned into an innocent game gone wrong.

All of your thoughts disappeared though as the sound got louder and then two strong arms were wrapping around your waist, almost making you both fall to the ground. The individual came to a stop and lifted you up off the ground, their grip too tight. You were squirming, able to feel their chest pressed along your back, their blade, from where it sat upon the person’s chest, poking in between your shoulder blades. Your hands fell to where they had you and that’s when you felt their hands. Hands all too familiar to you. Five fingers. You sighed then, relaxing against their form.

“I got you,” Lo’ak announced proudly in your ear as he carefully set you down.

You turned around and punched him in the chest, harder than you normally would. His hand reached up and touched it as if it had actually hurt. Of course, that’s how he had played it too, being the dramatic type, “Ow!”

“You scared me,” you admitted, looking around at the darkness around you, occupied by less flora than there was before.

“You kidding?” he chuckled, following your gaze to find nothing around you but trees and plants, “It’s fine. We’re fine. There’s nothing to be scared of.”

“I just…” your voice trailed off as it all came back to you. He was right. It wasn’t that late and you weren’t entirely that far from the village but there was still that feeling in your stomach. That this was wrong and that something could have happened despite how fun it had felt at first. “Can we go?”

He noticed the shift in your tone and suddenly he realized that your feelings had changed. “Yeah. Yeah, we can go. We probably should anyway. I think we’re late for dinner.”

You nodded but then let some of that fear fade from your face, replaced by a smirk he knew all too well, “Race you back to the village?”

A smile began to form on his face but before he could respond, you took off bolting in the direction where you both had come from. You didn’t make it very far though. Maybe a total of two feet before you collided straight into something, or in actuality someone. The person shifted backwards a couple of steps to steady themselves in addition to you. Their hands moved up to take your shoulders in them. Their grip was firm and you hissed under your breath as you happened to recognize their touch as easily as you had recognized Lo’ak’s.

Slowly, lifting your head, you felt your stomach drop as you found an angry Neteyam looking down at you. Not as angry as he had been earlier that day when you left him alone in the forest but it was close, too close. It was like steam was going to come out of his ears any second, and there was a permanent crinkle in his nose. His hands didn’t drop from you when he looked up over your shoulder to Lo’ak.

The younger Sully leaned back on his heels, stopping short in front of you, and couldn’t help the way the smile slipped away from his face. His entire body slouched as the look on his face was too entirely familiar, “Shit.”

“What the fuck do you two think you are doing out here?” Neteyam questioned, the tone of his voice making you stiffen under him, “And don’t you dare say having fun Lo’ak or I swear—”

“Well that’s exactly what we were doing,” Lo’ak raised his arms, matching his brother’s tone easily, “Having fun, but oh wait you don’t know what that is, right Neteyam?”

“Lo’ak,” he warned his younger brother as his fangs began to poke out from behind his lips.

“You know you’re the reason we are out here in the first place. If you weren’t running your mouth the way you have been lately then we would be back at the village with everyone else. Instead, though, Y/N needed a break from lessons, the attitude, and the orders. Mostly she just needed a break from you.”

You heard Neteyam growl under his breath as one of his hands dropped from around you, stepping forward intimidatingly so towards his brother. His other hand slid down from your shoulder all the way to your wrist where he kept a firm grip. Not hard enough to hurt you but enough that you couldn’t run off.

“Lo’ak it’s dark. It’s not safe out here.”

“Safe?” Lo’ak laughed, “Are you serious? We’re fine. I can take care of us just fine.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what?”

Neteyam took a deep breath as if trying to calm himself down, not daring to steal a glance at you as he tried to talk down his brother, “It’s almost curfew. There are rules for a reason. You shouldn’t be running around in the dark. Just, please go back to the village.”

“Did Dad order you to come out here? Send you out here to find us and save the day, yet again.”

You couldn’t help but look up at Neteyam as Lo’ak said that, the blow hitting him straight in the chest. His eyes faltered for a second, something flickering in them you couldn’t quite decipher. But then as if it was never there, they hardened again and he didn’t back down. “Lo’ak enough! Mom and Dad make the rules. We don’t. Go home!”

Lo’ak backed down, knowing it was an endless fight he wouldn’t win. As his brother’s words registered in his ears though, he glanced over in your direction and then at Neteyam’s hand that was still wrapped around your arm. “What about Y/N?”

“I need to talk to her for a minute,” he explained, still refusing to look over at you. He hadn’t even asked you but made a decision again for you. “We won’t be far behind you. Only a couple of minutes.”

Lo’ak opened his mouth to argue but Neteyam lifted one of his eyebrows as his lips curled into a scowl revealing his fangs again. You felt his tail flick you at how hard it was moving back and forth. His voice a warning, “Lo’ak.”

You watched as the younger boy raised his hands in the air, surrendering completely. He gave you one more look before he stalked off, hitting his brother’s shoulder as he walked by. You found yourself watching him until he disappeared among the trees and the foliage. As soon as you could no longer see him, you were reminded of the person in front of you and the grip he had on your wrist. Tilting your head up, you found him already looking at you, silently with rage.

You held his stare for a second before you found yourself pulling your arm free from his grasp, “What is wrong with you?”

“Why are you out here with Lo’ak, Y/N?” he took his own question and directed it back at you.

You scoffed, folding your arms over your chest, trying to ignore how that same feeling from earlier returned. The one where you felt like your body was burning. He made you so angry but somehow you knew that what you were feeling deep within your stomach wasn’t anger and it only pissed you off more. “I should have known. You didn’t come out here because your father asked you to, did you?”

“Except that my dad did ask me to come find you and Lo’ak,” he argued.

“Yeah, you said that already. Really there is no other reason?”

He was quiet for a moment, eyes straying from your face and the way you were looking at him, so intensely. You were demanding answers and no one other than Jake asked that of him. Suddenly then, he shook his head as if he had finally found an answer, “No.”

A moment of silence passed between the two of you, a pause before he stepped closer to you. This led to you taking one back, your glare not faltering in the slightest. He asked again, “Why are you out here, Y/N?”

“Ugh,” you yelled as your hands reached up holding your head in them. You inhaled and dropped them back to your sides, letting your next sentence fall freely from your lips without a second thought. "You are fucking unbelievable, you know that? I just don’t get it.”

He turned his head to the side curiously as if silently urging you to go on. He was biting onto his bottom lip so hard, he thought he was going to reopen the cut that had formed earlier while his eyes traced over your face and your pinched expression. A look that was commonly reserved for him. You didn’t look at anyone else that way. He noticed it. He noticed it too often.

“I don’t understand you,” you sighed, your hands forming into fists at your sides, “Everyone goes on and on about their future Olo’eyktan Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan. This young warrior who has grown up perfectly into this strong leader. They say he is fiercely loyal, independent, and exceedingly respectful. For weeks I have been hearing people of Omatikaya describe Toruk Makto’s first son as a brave soldier with a strong heart. But for some reason, I haven’t seen any of those things. I have spent all this time with you and this Neteyam they talk so much about I have never met.”

He groaned because once again you were saying things you shouldn’t be saying. Going on and on about things you had no idea about. As if you knew who he was or the type of life he was set up to have, but you didn’t. No one really knew him at all. Everything that people said about him, everything they claimed he was, was handpicked by his father and entrusted to him at a young age. He was chosen to be the future Olo’eyktan which meant he had to be brave, loyal, and respectful. A strong heart. That is what they said about every warrior. It doesn’t mean it’s entirely true.

He doesn’t say anything, not at first. He stands still and holds his ground as he scans your face. His heart begins to speed up in his chest as he watches for a second as the anger dissipates from you. The rage that had settled between you two and that had been going back and forth for weeks was no longer there. Your expression had softened and it was almost as if it had been replaced with desperation. As if you were hanging onto every word you were whispering out loud to him.

“Just why? Why do you act so differently around me? Why do you have to be so difficult?”

His ears perked up at the way you had called him difficult. The brief moment between the two of you, where the anger and the resentment had seemed to disappear because before he knew it, he felt his statue tense up and that familiar feeling that came with arguing with you appeared again. Annoyance. Anger. Fear. It all was there and suddenly his walls were pushed back up to where they were before. Shown in the way he chose his next words.

You opened your mouth as if you were going to say more, but his voice silenced you completely, “It’s because you’re not one of us. You think that I am difficult but it’s only because you don’t belong here. You aren’t one of us and you never will be."

The words pierced through your heart and as you stared up at him in complete shock, you felt them rip your heart completely into pieces. A gasp fell from your lips, your hands wrapping around yourself as if it was the only way to remain standing. The worst of it all was how he stared down at you without even the slightest sign of regret. He said it and he said it without any hesitation and because of it, he cut you so deeply - like he had reached your core.

The Omatikaya had never liked outsiders, you knew that. You knew how they felt. They expressed it visibly and without remorse but, this wasn’t something you were expecting. Especially from him. You didn’t get along, not in the least, but out of anyone who could utter those words to you, you never thought it could be the understanding future clan leader and the son of a past dream walker. But there it was, right in front of you and you couldn’t hide from it any longer. The truth. The truth you had been trying to run from for years and more so this last month. He solidified it for you, no matter how hard you tried, if you managed to pass all the training, you would never be one of them, not truly.

Neteyam watched as all light faded from your eyes. You took a step back from him, your whole body caving in on itself. He shouldn’t have said it. He knew that, but he did it anyway. He put all of his frustration and his anger in one place and somehow that was you. You didn’t want it and you sure as hell didn’t ask for it but it was too late now.

He noticed the way your eyes glassed over, your face was so bright under the flora and it was like he was seeing every one of your emotions under a microscope. A tear slipped past your waterline and he couldn’t help but reach his hand out to you. You looked up at him incredulously, your body becoming cold as you suddenly felt completely exposed, as raw as the blisters on the divots of your fingers. It was like he could see every part of you; every emotion, every weakness, everything you hadn’t granted him permission to see. It was enraging because at that moment he not only had all of you, but he had all of the power.

You watched as his hand froze mid-air stopping from grabbing onto you. His eyes had softened, desperately trying to meet yours but you wouldn’t dare give him anything else. Just as you felt more tears falling from your eyes across your cheeks, you turned around and took off. You ran faster than you had ever had before, the sharp intake of air paired with the quiet whimpers made your lungs burn.

Your legs felt weak and your vision was blurry, so blurry that you found yourself tripping every few seconds but you wouldn’t stop. You couldn’t and within a matter of minutes, you could see the lights from the village accompanied by the sounds of voices. You bursted out through the forest but you couldn’t stop. The ache, the pain that was still ripping through your chest made sure you wouldn’t stop running, not until you were away from it all. You felt eyes on you as you pushed by people, your lungs gasping for air.

You felt your foot get caught on something, digging so deep, and a second later you felt a sting of pain. Even when you knew something had cut you, you couldn’t stop as Neteyam’s words haunted you. They pierced your eyes just as they had your soul. Wiping at your face with your sweaty hands, you cried out just as the pain worsened.

Neytiri, Kiri, and Tuk were standing near your tent waiting for you as they had heard you were talking with Neteyam after he had found you with Lo’ak in the forest. Jake was busy lecturing his youngest son and both of the women wanted to be there in case you were next. They were talking to one another but their conversation was interrupted by the uproar that seemed to be taking over the village. They heard the mumbles and the lingering words from people across the village about you, what they had seen. Soon enough, their attention shifted when they saw you appear sprinting your way through the village.

Kiri called out your name but you blew past them, ignoring her completely, the only thing you could focus on was getting away, far away.

Tuk tried to go after you when you didn’t acknowledge them or even say hi to her, “Why didn’t she stop? I yelled her name loud enough didn’t I?”

Neytiri shared a look with her oldest daughter as they both noticed your tear-stained cheeks. Neither of them said a word though as they looked forward again to find Neteyam emerging from the forest, walking hurriedly towards them, stress evidently strewn across his face. Neytiri’s stare had hardened at her son, connecting the dots rather quickly as you had faded completely from view towards the far side of the village. She still hadn’t fully accepted you, knowing she couldn’t until you proved you could be one of the people, but for weeks she had spent hours upon hours talking about you with Jake.

He told her about your life, where you came from, and the type of person you were. She couldn’t help but become far more understanding than she had been the first night you had arrived in the village. You were a bright young woman, beautiful, with a pure heart and she knew that even if you weren’t one of them yet, she couldn’t stand the thought of you being hurt, let alone because of one of her sons. Somehow she just never thought it would be Neteyam.

He approached them, something heavy clearly weighing on him and within seconds of seeing them, he could see the looks his sister and mother were giving him. They were stern and entirely scary. Neytiri’s ears were flat, lips curled down, her fangs poking out. Kiri stared daggers over at her brother, as she had become the most protective of you over the last few weeks. His eyes widened innocently almost as if he hadn’t don’t anything wrong. They both could see right through him though.

“What did you do?” Kiri asked, her voice demanding as she pointed a threatening finger in his direction.

He didn’t respond but instead looked over at his mother. She lifted a brow up disapprovingly. “Neteyam?”

“You did what?”

Neteyam flinched at the sound of his father’s voice as his stare was locked solely on him. He looked over his father’s shoulder to his mother who stood just a few feet away, arms crossed over her chest expectantly. She had been outside when you had run through the village and it was evident she saw how upset you were. When she asked him herself what had happened, he didn’t have the words to explain. Just as he thought he had found the right words, Jake emerged from their tent, Lo’ak followed him that usual look slapped across his face after having been lectured. His lips were in a fine line, his shoulders slouched, and his head hung low to the ground.

Jake found them standing out there and instantly caught onto the way the two women were looking at Neteyam. He looked around and once he didn’t find you anywhere he knew that something had obviously happened. His eyes narrowed at his oldest son after having just dealt with his youngest and he sighed, cautiously asking where you were. It was that question that led Neteyam to be stuck in his family’s tent with his mother and father both staring at him the way they were after he had told them what he had said.

“I obviously didn’t mean it,” Neteyam argued, voice raising.

“Then why did you say it?” Jake yelled back, eyes drilled onto his eldest son, the one he never had thought would do this.

Neteyam didn’t have an answer for that, instead, he just let his head drop, his eyes finding the ground. Jake exhaled, one that only spoke volumes of disappointment especially since he had spent so much time trying to make you feel comfortable to ensure that you would be okay here. But instead, you were completely exiled but his stupid son.

“Skxawng," Jake stepped forward, examining his son from head to toe, the supposed future Olo’eyktan.

Something had clearly been off ever since you had gotten there and it was then that Jake had finally noticed it. The countless eye rolls, the bickering, the way Neteyam was always tense if you were ever in close proximity. He was pushy, bossy, and insubordinate. Jake glanced over his shoulder at his wife who hadn’t even said a single word since Neteyam had explained what had happened, what he had said. Nothing. As their eyes met, Neytiri nodded toward their son, urging her husband to say something more to make Neteyam fix this.

Turning to look back at Neteyam, Jake took a deep breath to try and calm himself, “Neteyam, look at me.”

The eighteen-year-old boy hesitantly lifted his head but didn’t back down as he met his father’s eyes. Jake’s hand firmly took hold of Neteyam’s shoulder, “What is going on?”

“Nothing,” Neteyam said without hesitation.

“Really?” Jake asked, not believing him in the slightest, “Because ever since she has gotten here, you have been acting differently. You’re distant, hesitant, more annoyed than usual.”

“You told me to teach her and that’s what I have been doing,” Neteyam snapped back, the tone taking both of his parents by surprise, “You want me to be Olo’eyktan one day and you said this is what I have to do. So, that’s what I’ve been doing.”

“You want to be clan leader one day then start acting like it,” Jake said, “This isn’t you, and you know it. Whatever is bothering you, get over it. Do something to get it out of your system. I don’t care what it is. Just figure it out because I am not going to deal with this again, do you hear me, boy? You don’t want to tell us what’s going on… Whatever. Fine. But you will go say something to her, do you understand me? You will go apologize and fix this.”

Neteyam didn’t argue because his father was right. He had been distant, cruel, everything that they hadn’t raised him to be. It was eating away at him for weeks. This anger inside of him, he shoved down for years, slowly coming back up like bile. It was acidic and sickening and yet he didn’t know how to stop it. Instead, he had seen glimpses of it when he was with you. A rage that scared him, spiting out of him when the two of you were together, yelling at you as if you deserved any of it. Because it was easier, easier to take it out on you rather than his father, his siblings, or his village. You were the outsider, the last one in, so why not make you out to be the problem.

It was horrible, wrong in so many ways, and it weighed heavily on his chest as he left his parents' hut ignoring the glares his siblings sent his way. They stood outside listening to every word and he felt the guilt begin to swallow him whole as he stepped into the forest. You hadn’t gone far and within a matter of minutes, he had found you, sat within a tree on a branch, your arms wrapped around your legs. You had them pulled tightly to your chest, your chin pressed against your knees, your head tilted up towards the sky. The air nipped at your face which was stained with tears and you were shivering unable to stop the clattering of your teeth. Your ears were flat, eyes wide and still glassy, and all energy was drained from your body.

He stood afar for a few minutes just taking you in, the way you held yourself, and the diminishment of your frame. The sky was bright enough to reveal your face and the tears still clouding your eyes. Sighing, he walked forward unable to hide the way his footsteps echoed loudly among the trees. It made your ears twitch and due to the sound, your head snapped towards him, arms dropping as your body stiffened.

Below your swinging feet, the ground glowed under his footsteps, his broad figure stalking its way through undergrowth already peering up at you. As your glassy stare met his, your shoulders relaxed, but your frown deepened. Rolling your eyes at him, you wiped at your face trying to hide the tears that still coated your cheeks.

Neteyam felt even worse as he looked at you, realizing his words' full effect on you. Stood just under the tree, he watched as you actively turned away from him, looking back at the sky. He scratched at the inside of his arm nervously, suddenly unsure of what to say to fix this. He couldn’t take it back and wasn’t sure how far an apology would go when he hurt you the way he had.

“Can we talk?” his voice was quiet but firm as he asked the question.

You scoffed at the fact that he would even ask that. You shook your head, “No.”

He looked at you expectantly, noticing how his face pinched together in seriousness, which looked entirely unreadable. He kept his ground though, his golden eyes staring up at you, unwavering.

Sighing, you glanced down at him, the earnestness clear as day. That didn’t stop the image from earlier crossing through your mind. You could still see him snarling, eyes filled with rage, body not showing an ounce of remorse as he managed to say the one thing that could hurt you the most. You are not one of us.

You took in a deep breath, feeling the way your chest began to tighten up again. That lump in your throat was rising and the anxiety began to swarm you. You couldn’t do this. Not anymore.

Sighing, you brushed your hair out of your face, over your shoulder, and stood from where you were sitting. You climbed down from the tree and jumped down, the luminescent green color of the leaves immediately lit up as your skin connected with the plants. Unable to look at him any longer, you stepped by him. As you did though, you heard your name fall off of his tongue lowly, no more than a whisper as he managed to grab your elbow, keeping you from walking any further.

He leaned closer to you and at the feeling of his hand and the sound of his voice, you felt your entire body shift away from him, that pain reappearing in full force. It was like you were being slapped in the face for him to come here out of obligation to his father. Huffing loudly, you ripped your arm from his grasp just as you had earlier on the other side of the village.

“Stop!” you yelled in his face, no longer worried about hiding your face or the betrayal you felt, “Stop saying my name and stop grabbing at me. You have no right. No right to come here after what you said to me.”

“Y/N,” he said it again, this time louder than he had before and you hated the way it made your heart pick up in your chest and your stomach tighten.

Two feelings you were still unable to comprehend when it came to him. It only made you angrier that your body would react to him this way.

“I know you’re here to apologize just because your father told you so, but I don’t want it,” you admitted, a single tear slipping from your eye and falling down your cheek. His eyes followed it as you didn’t bother to wipe it away. “I don’t want your empty apology or your lies. I can’t, okay, so please just go.”

He couldn’t look away from you, his feet somehow stuck to the ground as he took in your face underneath the night sky. Your bottom lip was chewed to the point that the skin was starting to break open. Your face was flushed, eyebrows raised, and a worry line evident in between your eyebrows. Streaks extended down across your cheeks and more tears were slipping past your water line as he refused to walk away from you. Instead, he held his ground, arms pinned to his sides, eyes wandering across your face trying to take in all of you and everything you felt in that moment.

“Neteyam,” your voice cracked as you said his name, trying desperately to make him leave you alone. Even the sound of his name didn’t break his gaze that was permanently locked on you.

Just as your lips parted again to say something else, he interrupted you, letting the question fall quickly from his tongue, “Can I show you something?”

“What?” you whispered, unsure if you had heard him correctly.

His face remained stoic, serious, the question falling of his toungue again, “Can I show you something, please?”

Your eyes widened and your lips parted in shock. He leaned closer to you, the word please having completely taken you by surprise. You didn’t owe him anything. You knew that, even after everything he has taught you, you had every right to walk away from him and not give him any more of your time. But somehow you couldn’t. You found yourself standing there in front of him, unable to look away from him and walk away. His gaze, so different than you had ever witnessed had you glued there in front of him just trying to decipher it. So, you found yourself with so much hesitation nodding, giving into him entirely.

His lips lifted up at the small action, relief washing across his entire body. The smile dropped though after a few seconds as you continued to look up at him skeptically. Nothing else was said. He began to walk in the opposite direction of the village and you followed him. Silently, you walked side by side. As you pushed your way through tree limbs and bushes, you followed closely behind him, able to feel his body heat radiating off of him. He kept glancing in your direction, his gold eyes tracing your side profile from the curve of your nose to the shape of your lips.

However, you stared forward into the dark forest, even as you felt his fingers brush against yours. After about the third time though, you wrapped your arms around your waist to prevent it from happening again. Under your fingertips, you were able to feel the flush of your skin and for the rest of the walk to this place he wanted to show you, you denied that it could have been because of him.

Eventually, his steps slowed to a stop just behind the secluded area. He brushed the drooping leaves aside and stepped into the glowing space. As the forest broke open, it revealed the river, one of the few that ran within the forest. The sound of flowing water filled your ears and you closed your eyes for a moment to listen to the peaceful sound. As you opened them, you noticed a small waterfall hidden off to the side of the river, slightly out of view by some smaller trees.

Additionally, flora occupied the bank bathing the area in bright neon colors that reflected off the clear blue liquid of the river. Bioluminescence was the sight of this secret spot; from the plants to the water, to the insects that floated around in the air. Your head was on a swivel, looking around at the spot that seemed to be perfectly hidden within the forest and untouched by anyone.

As you looked over at him, head tilted up innocently, you found him already staring down at you. “Is this it?”

“Yeah,” he replied, taking in the soft curve of your lips and the doe-eyed expression that had snuck up on your face, “I come here when I need time to think and to just be by myself.”

He began to walk forward and you followed him quietly, listening to the way his deep voice was interlaced with something different. Something more uncommon than you had ever heard before. It was the same way with how he was looking at you as if all the anger had been flushed from his body and this was an entirely different person in front of you. He approached the edge of the river and took a seat, the ground glowing at the contact of his body. His long legs dipped into the water, ripples forming around them. You looked down at him for a moment, examining the way he stared forward at this small sliver of his world. A world he had never shared with you.

It was that observation, that fact alone, that convinced you to sit down next to him, close enough that your knee brushed his as you dropped your own legs into the cool water. “Have you ever brought anyone else here before?”

Your question took him by surprise and he found his gaze meeting yours, the water reflecting off of both of your faces. His gold eyes glistened and you couldn’t help but trace them as well as the soft smile that formed on his face. He shook his head, "No."

He watched as your face pinched together and you turned your head back towards the river, confusion taking over your features. Your bottom lip found its way in between your teeth and you were pulling on the tips of your fingertips, mind obviously busy with something. At least based on how you appeared and all the telltales your body was giving away that’s what Neteyam figured.

He looked at you and saw all of the little actions you weren’t even aware you were doing. He just studied you as if you were some problem that couldn’t be solved which was ironic considering he was the one who had been pushing you away from the start and doing everything he could to keep you at an arm’s length away. Truthfully, he was the problem that couldn’t be solved.

Softly, he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and your head snapped back into his direction. As his golden gaze slipped down to your lip that was still in between your teeth, you released it. “Neteyam, why did you bring me here?”

“I came to you just as you originally had thought, to apologize,” he said, pausing to watch your reaction unfold, but you didn’t give him an inch, “But it wasn’t just because my father asked me to. I shouldn’t have said it. Any of it. I knew it even when I was saying it but…”

“You said it anyway,” you finished sadly.

“Yes and it was wrong. I am sorry, Y/N. I know that might not mean much but it’s all I really have.”

Those words felt just as heavy as the ones he had said earlier that day. You are not one of us. Somehow for a completely different reason within an opposing situation. You didn’t think you would feel again after that, especially anything for him. He had hurt you right where it would the most — the most fatal spot within you. The need to belong had become your entire life and when he said that it felt like you were destined to be alone, not quite fitting into the lines of any certain place or established group.

Your heart felt as if it had been taken from your body and plunged with an arrow dipped in the deadliest neurotoxin. That was the only way you could describe it but now sitting in front of the very same man who had created that feeling for you, who had made you feel crazy for weeks on end, was in so many ways reviving you. I am sorry. Who knew such three little words, three little words that had become meaningless over so many years somehow in that single moment had regained all of their meaning at once.

“It’s just you don’t understand,” he started, suddenly unable to look at you as he tried to figure out his next words, “My entire life I have been taught to be a protector. I have to put everyone’s emotions and wants above my own and keep everyone safe, no matter what. My siblings, my family, and someday the entire village will be under my authority. I have to worry about everyone.”

His ears flickered as he lifted his head slowly to peer up at the sky, the thousands of stars that reflected down onto Pandora — one of them happened to be the dying planet your parents were from and where his father was from. Somehow of all them and everything that had happened had led to this moment; you and him sitting together.

He sighed and shook his head, almost in personal disappointment, “You just became another thing I had to protect and watch over. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to be responsible for another person. My anger and my dislike towards you was never because you’re an avatar or because you ended up here in the village. It was because I felt like I had to look out for yet another person without even being asked what I thought.”

You were staring at him, he could feel it, your lips slightly parted as you tried to process everything he was saying. A part of you wondered if he told anyone this but based on how he had never even brought anyone to this spot, you weren’t so sure. For his whole life, just like Lo’ak constantly argued with him about, he was trying to be the perfect soldier; the perfect son. Someone had to take orders, had to make sacrifices.

There had to be a next Olo’eyktan and Neteyam took that responsibility selflessly and he was the only one paying for it. It was doing so much more to him than you had originally thought and suddenly his outbursts, his condescending tone, and his cold glares all made sense. He couldn’t mess this up. He couldn’t let anyone down, let alone his father. Somehow you had added so many more things required of him on a stack and there was no one he could express his frustration or direct the blame to other than you. That’s what it all had been. An angry young man repressing it all to only have it burst out at you, a mere outsider.

“Neteyam,” you said his name, so quietly he didn’t even shift his attention until your next sentence came slipping past your lips, “Would it be better if I left? Left the village and didn’t come back. Would you want that?”

It was the only solution that you could find as the two of you had sat in silence. You were the extra weight, the overwhelming hours of his long days, and how could he alleviate that stress and those harmful effects? Remove the weight that’s causing it.

Suddenly, the stars were no longer an interest to him. Your questions had him turning his body towards you, enough that his knee pressed firmly into the side of your thigh. At the foreign touch, you didn’t even flinch or lean away, but almost like a part of you wanted it. His eyebrows had shot up on his forehead and you felt his tail flick so hard, it hit you in the back. The question had shocked him completely. “What? Why would you ask me that?”

You bit onto your tongue, looking down in between your bodies surprised to find you’d be this close to him, ever. He shook his head as he searched for your eyes, leaning down until yours flickered up to his. “I was given an order to teach you the ways of Omatikaya and I will do just that. My father was right if I want to be—”

“Olo’eyktan, yes, you’ve said it so many times,” you cut him off, his answer somehow leaving a lump in your throat, disappointment at his words the only feeling you could register in your chest, “I know that’s what your father has asked of you but what do you want Neteyam? Do you want me to leave? Would that make this easier for you?”

His brows furrowed and his fingers twitched from where they sat, pressed into the ground. Tilting his head to the side, he shook his head slowy almost as if he wasn’t entirely sure of the answer himself. “No, it wouldn’t.”

You nodded slowly and he glanced down at the sight of your hand pulling on the ringer finger of your other. The answer was satisfactory, it wasn’t expected, but it was what you thought you had wanted to hear. To know, that you were wrong and he was wrong and that he never hated you like you originally had thought. Somehow though that disappointment still remained, lodged in your diaphragm.

“Tsap’alute si (I’m sorry),” you suddenly say, your pronunciation perfect. You knew because the corner of his mouth twitched lightly, proving he had picked up on it. “For having been so difficult.”

“You weren’t. I was the one being an asshole, remember?”

You laughed, the sound gracing his ears and suddenly that twitch at the corner of his mouth developed into a full smile, teeth and all. Something you weren’t entirely used to seeing and you couldn’t help but stare at it, trying to take in the moment as long as you could in case it would be the only time he would smile at you. “Only a little bit.”

“Sure,” he chuckled, denying your hospitality to his rudeness, “I used to like to think of myself as anything but an asshole.”

You hummed softly, struggling with the urge to let your hand fall down on top of his. It never did though and instead you just hugged your arms tighter around your waist, deciding the touch of his knee was enough. “So, what do you want to do?”

“Nothing. We’re going to continue what we have been doing for the past month. Except now I will be less of an asshole. I can’t promise you I won’t be bossy and lecture you once in a while though.”

“That’ll be expected coming from a soldier who accepts orders and follows through with them. I wouldn’t ask for anything else,” you smiled, and it was like he was seeing it for the first time that night. At least the first time he saw it actually being directed toward him.

He rolled his eyes slightly but was amused by your comment. As both of you became quiet after a moment, stealing glances at each other while turning to the river, you suddenly felt him bump his arm with yours. “So… this means?”

You held your hand out towards him, your thumb facing upwards, palm outstretched for his, “A truce?”

And just like that as his hand slid into yours with perfect ease, clasping around your smaller hand, warmth began to spread from your fingertips down to your arm and you knew then that he had melted the icy walls around you. And that weight that seemed to be pressing down on your chest and shoulders was gone, blowing away into thin air as if the pain was nothing but a ghost.

His next two words just confirmed everything you had been working to deny. That he had more of an effect on you than anyone had before. “A truce.”

It was late by the time you emerged from the link pod and as you swung your legs over, you felt as if the world before you was nothing but a dream. You stared down at your hands - your hands, that appeared so foreign to you, and your legs felt weak. Weaker than ever before as for over a month all you did was sit and lay down in a metal machine. The air in the lab felt like it was suffocating and as you closed your eyes you swore, you could still feel his hands, his touch, feel the way his breath fanned across your face. His voice filled your ears and for a moment you could believe you were still in the forest with him.

You heard heavy steps and as you opened your eyes to find Norm standing in the doorway, you felt it all hit you too hard. That you were starting to feel things you had never felt before and for someone you should’t be. You were a human, an outsider, and somehow the life you were suddenly seeing before you was just another reminder of what you didn’t want for yourself.

“You were out late,” Norm said, watching as you stretched your arms above your head, “Who were you with this time? The younger Sully boy or the eldest?”

He watched the way your face flickered with emotion at the end of his sentence. You avoided his stare and just like that chuckle fell from the older man’s mouth. Your silence was confirmation enough for him. “Really? You and the future Olo’eyktan?”

Sliding down from the link pod, you sighed not ready to face your own feelings, let alone express them to anyone else. You shook your head rapidly as he continued to look over at you, laughing.

As you stood on your own two feet, you felt the effects of them being stuck in a small box for hours on end. They were asleep but as you took a step forward and stumbled over nothing but yourself, a strange feeling appeared in your chest.

Grabbing onto the nearest desk, you leaned over it, your breath feeling heavy within your lungs — almost as if they were struggling to even operate properly or take in oxygen. Shown in the way you began to cough, your hand reached up to hold your chest. But just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. Your breathing stabilized again as well as the strength in your legs.

“You okay?” Norm asked.

You nodded but you weren't entirely sure yourself.

#avatar #avatarimagine #avatar way of water #neteyam x reader #writing #fanfiction #neteyam imagine #avatar imagine #avatar fanfiction #lo'ak imagine #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak fanfiction #neteyam fanfiction

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renmarrr · 1 month

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Basically this is Flowey in Papyrus’s body.

What happened? Most likely this is one of Flowey’s hundreds of routes where he tries everything “the game” has to ofer him. Every possible way to deal with everybody. Every possible way to find boredom with Papyrus.

How did it happened? Most likely Flowey found a way to get inside Papyrus’s body and absorb his soul. Story context is missing, I admit.

How’s he functioning? Papyrus is alive but out of control over his body. There’s almost none of signs of him being conscious and present. The only one is when sometimes Flowey struggles to move freely as if this body resists. But nothing more.

Stats? Power? Flowey would be more powerful if he absorbed a human soul but this one goes well too. Basically their abilities are summed up and have magical nature. Papyrus’s attacks are covered with Flowey’s red spikes, his blasters have those red-green eyes. And vines and petals.

Personality? Same old Flowey. He has Papyrus’s regular amount of memories and knowledge, tho he can’t unlock the deepest ones. But he doesn’t need to. Despite being in adult monster’s body and having his own long live, it’s still a mind of a kid.

Soul? He does have a monster soul and he genuinely enjoys whatever he has in life now (which is rather a world he’s erasing). At least he’ll be like this for some long time until he gets bored or his “toy” will break (probably of determination). There is a small chance that he’ll feel sorrow for his actions and that’s only because of a soul he has.

Why he exists? Evil expression on Papyrus’s face is my weakness.

#my art #undertale #digital art #papyrus #flowey #photoshop papyrus

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inbarfink · 7 months

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Part of Fionna’s frustrations with Mundanewold were subconscious longings for her old life of magical adventure, but a lot of her problems tied more into deeply-rooted issues of monotony and a feeling like she can't do anything to change her lot in life and like her actions don’t matter.

And it does seem like Fionna and Friends’ lives have been kinda Stuck in a Rut - especially when you compare the way their lives parallel and diverge from their Mainworld counterparts. Most of the differences are... rather than just different choices diverging into different arcs - it’s the same arc, but the Fionnaworld characters are just stuck behind.

Fionna is still reeling from the breakup with DJ Flame and only met Hunter at the very day our story starts. Marshall Lee has more Unresolved Issues with his mom compared to Marceline and her dad. He and Gumball haven’t even met yet. Not to mention the Mundaneworld-specific problems like Fionna being unable to hold a steady job or Gary eternally spinning his wheels about opening his own bakery.

Fionna thought she wanted a world of magic, but while the added bits of strangeness and whimsy to Fionnaworld by the end of the show are certainly a cool fun bonus (and Cake is surely thankful to have the ability to freely think and speak her mind and stretch) - what Fionna and friends were really missing was a world where their actions matter, where things change, where they are real.

And especially important for Fionna and Cake to admit it, because handling the fact their actions have consequences has been a huge part of both of their character arcs. For Cake it was all about getting used to the fact that her newfound human-like sapience means being measured against human-like morality. For Fionna it's about not comparing everything in her life to video games and thinking through her actions at least a little bit.

Consequences are the thing Fionna and Cake struggled with the most, but it was what they were missing all along.

Now this seems to be, like, an actual metaphysical thing. I mean, the show hasn’t gone super into detail of how Fionnaworld worked but it does seem like Prismo’s stories had an active role in moving the events of the World forwards, possibly using the same event-manipulating-Magic that make sure his Wishes have that Obligatory Ironic Twists?

And once Ice King turned back to Simon, Prismo lost all ability to observe or create stories for Fionnaworld. And what happens to characters of a story once the writer can’t access their external hard-drive anymore? They just sorta get stuck. Moving their own lives forwards without Prismo’s stories is just a lot harder.

And if there is some sort of force in control behind the scenes of Fionnaworld at the start of the series, it’s only Simon’s subconscious - a fact F&C alludes to numerous times

And at the start of the show, how was Simon’s feeling about his own life?

In addition to Simon’s longing and memories for the pre-War world shaping the exact form of Fionna’s nonmagical world, perhaps his feelings of ennui and depression and helplessness have also subtly ‘infected’ this world?

It is perhaps not a coincidence that Marshall Lee and Gary Prince’s storyline only starts moving forwards after Simon embarks on the adventure and starts climbing out of his mental rock bottom. When things seem to move forwards for him as well.

As such, ‘Canonizing’ Fionnaworld solves more of Fionna’s problems much more than simply making it as magical as Ooo but keeping it as a tiny hidden bubble in someone's dome. It ensures the World’s inhabitants’ free will and agency and ability to enact change on the status quo with no need for Prismo’s stories or being dependent on the still-kinda-shaky mental health of Simon Petrikov. Thus giving them a world where everything matters and things can always change.

But also there's a psychological element for the Fionnaworld protagonists. You know, the reason why Fionna is stuck in her rut is because she’s too impulsive and careless. Gary is too perfectionist. Marshall never had someone who would stand up to him against his mom.

Fionna’s whole arc in the show is about learning to be more thoughtful and careful and considerate through her Multiverse Adventure. While Gary and Marshall Lee find release from the thing holding them back within Fionnaworld, with each other.

‘Canonizing’ Fionnaworld is like... half actively altering their world into a ‘real’ one where change is possible, or at least easier - and half about an affirmation that their world was always real because change is about them outgrowing their personal issues (and also, y’know, about protecting their universe from the spiteful Beetle Cop).

And with how Fionna used to feel ‘trapped’ in the City, with nowhere to go and nothing to do - there is another change in Fionnaworld as a result of ‘canonization’ that feels very notable.

I’m not entirely sure, but from Scarab's dialogue it seems likely that becoming a ‘real’ authorized universe just kinda manifested a whole planet and universe beyond the borders of the small existing Fionnaworld. Although I guess it's also possible that the process of repairing the existing city they found a way to expand it gradually - maybe it doesn’t matter as much as the fact that either way, Fionna’s horizons have been literally expanded.

So you know, if she ever gets that thirst for adventure again... she actually has a Whole New World to travel and explore, it might not have (a lot of) magic but... she already heard Simon's stories of his adventures in a similar low-Magic world. It's a totally viable outlet for her.

What Fionna really needed to find the joy in her life is to be Real - to know that her actions have consequences for ill and for good. Because sometimes an adventure looks like saving a Prince of candy from an evil Ice Witch, or going on a multiverse journey to uncover a cursed Magic Crown… but it can also look like backpacking through Europe or campaigning against your evil landlady.

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shallyouobeyme · 7 months

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Fortune

Platonic Yander Malfoy!Family x Dragon!reader (GN)

Summary: A long time ago there lived a species of dragon-hybrids with magical gifts. You - one of these hybrids - had the gift of bringing good fortune to whoever was close to you, but as you'd soon learn, using your gift to help others would only endanger you...

! Minors do not interact !

TW: Not Canon Complainant about the Malfoy's backstory, imprisonment, manipulation, kidnapping, infantilisation (kinda), I do not condone this - this is all fiction

One or two Centuries ago, when muggles still believed in magic and fantastical creatures roamed the earth almost freely, many more kinds of species lived in nature. Some of them were closely related to creatures still on this planet in the present. One example of such a case was a kind of dragon that had long since left the face of the earth, one that shared many similarities with the humans around it. In fact, these dragons had the ability to shift from their full dragon form to that of a bipedal, humanoid dragon-person hybrid. Further than their ability to shift though was their ability to innately use magic.

Now, their abilities were not like the abilities of wizards and witches who could put their magic into words and gestures, using their magic as a medium to achieve many different goals. Instead, they tended to be born with a specific magical talent that differed from case to case - some could control different elements (since these dragons did not naturally have the ability to breathe fire or water), some could communicate with nature, some changed the weather, and others could use their scales to make themselves invisible to any living and dead being.

One of these dragons, still a young fetchling when this story began had a rare and sought-after ability - the ability to attract fortune. Something every dragon with a knack for hoarding (so almost all) would kill for, which was why the little dragon-hybrid was told from a very young age to keep hidden from creatures that would use them and their powers for their own gain. This young dragon was you - and often, when you now fell asleep, you still dreamt of the night that would turn out to be the one to doom your entire life.

You had barely just started to fly without your parent's supervision and after being kept at home for your entire (short) life in hopes that no one would try to use you, your curiosity for real life and everything beyond the mountain you called home grew restless. So you did what any curious child with the ability to fly would do and you took off to where you knew the nearest village to be. You landed a few miles away from it, well aware that your parents would be furious beyond belief if you went into town and let your existence be known to humans. After all, your parents always did make a point of mentioning just how greedy and selfish humans tended to be.

You were a fool to not believe them. You were in your humanoid form - comparable with a human child of about eight or nine years - as you stepped into a clearing. The sound of sobbing echoed through the trees around you and your eyes fell onto a form hunched onto the floor in sobs. They looked similar to you, but a lot smoother, and without any horns or wings protruding out of their back. Honestly, they looked really strange, but your parents had described something similar to what you were seeing and they had said that these smooth wingless things were humans. Obviously, you were intrigued.

"Why are you crying?" you asked in your young, squeaky voice and the human jumped up, turning to look at you in shock. Their eyes widened even further at your appearance, but they seemed too shaken to properly realize what was going on.

"You-You're a - You're a dragon?" they finally stuttered out, their tears long forgotten. You couldn't help but giggle, of course, you were a dragon, what else were you supposed to be?

"Yes I am, and you're a human, right?" you asked and they only responded by nodding, "then why were you crying, human?"

"I-" They seemed to question their reality for a second, probably wondering if they should tell a random little dragon-hybrid their sorrows, but they responded nonetheless, "My mother... She's very ill and I don't have the money to buy the medicine she needs, I fear that she'll pass away soon and then I will be all alone in the world."

As their tears build up again, you feel yourself sympathize with the human. Sure, you had your parents, but they were travelling all of the time, leaving you to your own devices and even your siblings had been allowed to leave the nest and make a way of their own, it was just you who was kept alone in the cave under the pretence of protection. So you very well knew how it felt to be alone, to be lonely. And so you knew that if you could do something against someone else feeling like that, then you would.

"I can help you!" you exclaimed excitedly at the thought of doing something good.

"What? How?" the human - you decided that if humans were at all similar to your own kin then they must have been a man - asked, completely perplexed as you walked towards him, stopping just a step away.

"It's my gift, I can bring fortune to people, I can help you make the money you need for the medicine," you were smiling brightly now, but the human still seemed confused. 'How,' he just asked and you told him to kneel down. Usually, your presence alone was enough to attract riches and riches beyond most people's dreams, but you knew that if you wanted to help someone attract fortune without being near them, you had to use a different tactic. And so, once the man had knelt down, you pressed a kiss to his forehead and a shimmer of silver light sparkled over his face - the same silver of your scales.

After that you left for home, but before you could take off the human called out to you: "What's your name? Will I see you again?"

"I'm Y/N - and I don't know, I hope so," you responded as you took flight and the last thing they shouted to you before the distance was too large to hear them was that their name was Layton Malfoy.

After that, you used every chance you had to fly to that clearing where Layton was usually already waiting for you - he'd tell you all these amazing stories of his life and he'd entertain you, trying to be your best friend. At least you thought that was all he wanted. What you didn't realize was that slowly but surely he was trying to keep you by his side longer and longer, always finding another reason as to why you should stay, telling you how your parents were using you, about how they weren't these amazing dragons that you thought them to be. And maybe because you were just a lonely child who was just desperate for the attention or maybe because Layton was your first friend and you didn't believe friends would lie to each other, you believed him. And so after he kept telling you all these things about how he was the one who would actually protect you, about how he'd finally let you live a normal life, you left the clearing with him towards his home town - thinking about how you'd return home one day and tell your parents about how wrong they were about humans and about all the great things you lived through.

You never returned home though, in fact, you never saw your parents again. Decades later - you were now comparable to a human teenager - Layton's grandchildren had told you that the dragon-hybrids had been declared extinct after they had been hunted for their powers and their horns. The Malfoy heir told you that he was so happy that his grandfather had 'taken you in' and how the entire family just felt thankful that you hadn't been hunted as well. He elected to ignore the fact that you were shackled to a wall in a secret Cellar below their large estate - possible only because they had you locked away to attract them money,.

After finding out about the cruel fate of your kin, you shifted into your dragon form attempting to not give the Malfoy any sense of result by responding to them or even just paying attention to them. You rolled into yourself, closed your eyes and stopped things but eat, drink and sleep. No matter how often the ever-evolving generations of Malfoys tried to get you to interact with them, you just stayed silent. Honestly, you were surprised that after decades of silence, they still tried to talk to you - wasn't your presence in their cellar enough? You were still attracting fortune for them, what more did they want? Over the years they tried to get you out of your shell by decorating your cellar with numerous pillows and blankets and things that dragons loved in their hord. Your Chamber probably had more money, jewels and riches in it than their bank account. And yet, as much as you secretly appreciated your new horde, you stayed silent.

At least until a new Malfoy was born and old enough to come down to you on his own. Lucius was just a child when he saw you for the first time lying curled into yourself in your pile of riches and pillows and blankets, but even he could see the sadness in your form. And so he tried to talk to you, but like his parents and grandparents had told him, the dragon in their cellar did not talk. But he didn't stop, he told you about how he thought the family had enough money already, about how he thought they should let you free and how you'd be able to breathe fresh air again once he became the patriarch of the family. Maybe it was the earnestness in his voice or the fact that he reminded you of yourself when you were a hatchling, still trusting in the world around you, but you caved and you shifted for the first time in what must have been over 100 years.

It was safe to say Lucius was ecstatic and the two of you soon became close. You talked to him and him only, and he enjoyed it immensely. He tried to spend as much time as possible down with you and was so close to you that you actually let him nap with you in your horde (he always got to lie on the parts with lots of pillows and blankets, because you knew humans were a lot more sensitive than you). And as he grew older you tried to remind him of his promise and at first he agreed, but the older he grew the more unsure he seemed. Still, he agreed - probably knowing that you'd stop your friendship with him once you realized that he didn't intend to keep his promise anymore.

It was only once he came down, dressed all in black, now an adult with his own child, telling you that his father Abraxas had passed because of a case of Dragon Pox - a cruel wink of fate as you couldn't help but think - that you excitedly ran towards the bars of your cage, believing that you'd finally be let out of this horrible prison. Only that Lucius didn't open the door. 'Why?' you asked him, silver streaks of tears streaming down your cheeks, 'Don't you have enough Fortune? Is the money really worth it?'.

"It was never about the money, at least not for me if it was just that I would let you go in a heartbeat, but I know that the second I let you out you'll be gone. You'll leave me behind, here without you, and I don't think I can do that Y/N. I need to know that you're here, safe, where I always know you're well cared for. I hope one day you'll be able to forgive me - even if I'm not there to experience it."

That was the day you realized that Lucius and Narcissa - and after his son Draco as well - would never let you go. They did try to make your living 'situation' more comfortable, changing out the bars to your cave with an actual door after putting enough spells on you to keep you from ever leaving the premises of their mansion, keeping you from kind of violence against them and keeping alerting them should you ever be in any kind of distress or danger. Soon they had integrated you into their everyday life, treating you like a child to be protected and not like you've had lived longer than they could ever imagine. Even Draco - who grew up with you as a constant in his life - developed the same sense of protectiveness that his parents had, as if he wasn't a literal child, and when it was time for him to leave for Hogwarts he insisted you writing him at least once a week, because otherwise he was sure he'd go insane with worry (at least that was what he said).

And so, while for a few decades, you had actually thought freedom was close, you soon realized that you had just switched one prison against a slightly more glamorous one - and it seemed that as long as there were Malfoys, you'd never be able to escape it.

A/N: This is based on another great idea by @sol565 so I wanna give them a big thanks and a big shoutout ❤️❤️❤️

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bitchy-craft · 3 months

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What Mythological Creature Are You | Pick A Pile

Hello and welcome to this Pick A Pile! In here you'll find out what mythological creature you are and what is associated with said creature. I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful. Do make sure to leave comments down below on your experience! I do want to remind you all that this is a General Pick A Pile which means this is for a lot of people; therefore keep what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Masterpost > Questions > Paid Readings

Pick A Pile!

Pile 1:

The Phoenix is a legendary bird from Greek and Egyptian mythology. It is said to be a magnificent creature with colorful plumage and the ability to regenerate itself. According to the Greek myth, the Phoenix lives for centuries before igniting itself in flames and being reborn from its ashes. This cycle of death and rebirth symbolizes immortality and the eternal nature of life.

The Phoenix is often associated with themes of renewal, transformation, and resurrection. It represents the concept of rising above challenges and emerging stronger from adversity. The Phoenix's ability to rise from the ashes serves as a metaphor for personal growth, spiritual transcendence, and the cyclic nature of existence.

Pile 2:

Kitsune is a mythical creature from Japanese folklore, often depicted as a fox with magical abilities. These shapeshifting creatures possess intelligence and possess anywhere from one to nine tails, with each additional tail indicating greater power and wisdom. Kitsune are known for their mischievous nature and their ability to assume human form.

In Japanese mythology, Kitsune represents both positive and negative aspects. On one hand, they are associated with wisdom, cunning, and the protection of their chosen human companions. On the other hand, they are known for their trickery and illusions. Kitsune symbolize the complexities of human nature, the power of transformation, and the blurred line between reality and illusion.

Pile 3:

A pegasus is a winged horse from Greek mythology. According to the myth, Pegasus was born from the decapitated neck of the Gorgon Medusa when the hero Perseus slew her. Pegasus is often depicted as a majestic white horse with wings, capable of flying freely through the skies. It became the trusted mount of the hero Bellerophon, who rode Pegasus during his battles against various monsters.

Pegasus symbolize freedom, inspiration, and the power of the imagination. The ability to soar through the heavens represents the pursuit of higher knowledge, transcending earthly limitations, and reaching new heights. Pegasus is associated with artistic and creative endeavors, as well as the exploration of the divine realm.

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milkywaydrabbles · 8 months

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geto and 39? :>

A/N: foaming at the mouth I love Geto sm. I'm not sure if this was quite enough body worship but also I feel like he wouldn't be that obvious with it, especially after his defection and leading up to the night of 100 curses. But I am a FIRM believer he would try to baby trap. Hope you like it mwuah

CW: riding, pet names, baby trapping

Body worship x Geto Suguru

"A-ah, Geto-Sama!" Thrust. "Please, beautiful." Thrust. "I thought I asked you to call me Suguru when we're alone." Thrust.

It had been a few months since you and Geto had met each other. You, an apparent normal human being who has been saying what you thought to be ghosts for your entire life. You had ignored them the best you could, being in and out of psychiatric hospitals because of your bouts of fear with the paranormal. Society had shunned you for your "insanity". But you knew they were there, even if you were the only one who saw them. Eventually, you faked being cured of whatever level of psychosis they thought you had, stopping the medication that sedated you. You simply learned to pretend they weren't there. It got easier as the years progressed, however some days were more difficult than others, depending on the size of the curse, and depending on how in your face it wanted to be. You thought you would just live like this—on the verge of a mental breakdown one day at a time. Until you met Geto.

You saw him one day, at the tail end of swiping away at one that seemed to be a pretty big nuisance for him, before condensing it into a black orb and ingesting it. You couldn't help but stare, eyes wide and hands trembling. It was someone else that saw them, someone else that can do something about them. There was no way you hallucinated that. He glanced over at you in disgust that a monkey would even have the audacity to look at him. But tears accumulated in your eyes, and you whispered "you see them too?"

He softened immediately after that.

Geto took you in, soothing your tears after telling him all the terrible years you've endured. Days turned into weeks, of helping you understand what the world of jujutsu is, of what curses are, of his end goal. Weeks turned into months, of him letting you stay with him even though you weren't a fighter, and your healing abilities were barely sustained. He let you stay because he had a soft spot. And feelings emerged. Started to cherish you, started to steal glances, fingers grazing just a bit more than deemed normal.

Geto was in love with you. The rest of them could see it, but they wouldn't dare say anything around him.

"Ah—fuck—'msorry Suguru" you hiccuped, bouncing on his lap, cock buried deep inside your sloppy pussy. Suguru loved you like this, chest to chest, as close to him as possible. It felt right this way. "Let me take care of you, pretty girl. You deserve it" he slowed his movements, wanting to take his time with you. Suguru placed open mouthed kisses on your chest, lavishing your nipples under his tongue. "You're so perfect" he'd whisper, hands caressing your back like he was holding a doll. "I can't believe I've gone my life without you." Another kiss to your chest, and a suck to your other nipple. You gasped, clenching around his dick, juices flowing freely over his balls. "Suguru," you whined "feels good." He kissed your neck, and pressed you closer to him. A hand came up to your head to pull you down for a kiss on your lips, slow and deliberate, taking his time to taste you fully. "I want to make you feel good always, my perfect baby. Taking me so well, your pussy was made for me." Another clench and whine, head lulling to the side out of sheer bliss. "Never want to let you go" he murmured, though he wasn't sure if you heard it.

Geto quickened, a hand coming in between your bodies to rub at the swollen nub at the apex of your thighs. You cried out and tightened around him, orgasm closing it. "Come on, beautiful. Cum for me, I want to feel your cute little cunt milking me" Suguru bit at your neck, angling his hips to hit that delicious squishy part inside you that made you see stars. "S-suguru! A-ah fuck, oh fuck" you cried out, legs trembling and body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. You rode out your high as Geto continued to pump his length into you. "Gonna cum in you, pretty, gonna fill you up." He thrusted into you a few more times before shooting his load into you. He fucked his cum into you, wanting more than anything to keep it inside that puffy cunt of yours.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

He was going to make sure it took, that you'd get pregnant. You wouldn't leave him now, he was sure of it. But he needed a guarantee.

#getou x reader #getou suguru #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto smut #milk kinktober #milk writes #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen

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novalizinpeace · 1 month

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Well, this is my fastest reference so far

Space Rider Au Belong to @onyxonline

some data and backstory

His home planet can be found in NGC 7331, a spiral galaxy inside the pegasus constellation. There, the pegasus live a kinda nomad/nature oriented life, a lot of them are really carefree and peaceful people, so comfortable in their lifes thanks to the protection of the high clouds: Pegasus that learned to use the power of the sun (and light) to create illusions and been able to hide their communities around the galaxy for eons.

But one day, one of this community got the bad luck to get found by the Prototype's Cult, and all hell broke loose.

They knew they had to kill the High Clouds first to get to the people in the community, and with all of them dead they almost succesed in their goal.

But then a lil foal put himself in front of the cultists, and that was the end for them.

The news about a child scaring a butch of dangerous cultists obviously got to the riders, that after some debates with the eldest in the community, were able to get custody of the child in exchange of protection for said community without high clouds, and the promise in paper that the child would get back to his home to become a high cloud once he became able to control his illusions.

Personality

Sunny is a literal walking sunshine; carefree and talkative, he's mostly in the air, since the idea to be just walking is boring to him, but even if he seem distracted while talking to someone, he's actually paying a lot of attention, is his body that can't be quiet, his mind is actually really clear and bright.

He's not really the fighter type of guy, he wouldn't have a problem taking a weapon to defend his friends and teammates, or fight a one on one for the same or for training sake, but if you ask him he would prefer to just walk away or be the defensive part of the plan, he's not going to enjoy making other feel pain, it something he was teached to be a truly last resort, so not the best sparring pal for other riders.

Were he really shine is in ability to detect lies and fake things/scams. Is his thing after all. He would never use this ability to trick others, so if he catch someone trying to take advance of others by using trick, you can be sure he's going to expose them REALLY loudly in from of everybody. This had sometimes end in awkward situations for him, like exposing the wrong guy...

The fact that he speak his mind so freely is also a constant problem for him, in his community there was no such thing as uncalled comments, everybody was happy to take advise in others, or answer gracefully when a advise wasn't right/needed, and compliments were good recieved for everybody, things like get stressed by other's opinion was completly taboo, why hurt your mind in such way?

So the fact that people in the riders get so confused/shocked/embarrased/frustrated when he speak his mind in a matter would truly confused Sunny at time, he's kinda afraid to speak in big groups due this, 'cause he had already scare away possible friends for be too open, but at least he know compliments are a good way to go if he didn't make a lot of them so suddenly.

But somethings i forgot that last details...

--------------

Before someone call me simp /j i didn't create Sunny just to openly fangirl over Gale, his critter design is as old as Lizzy, but i had never been able to do something with him.

Now, did i create all this backstory and design just for shipping/fangirl reason? No... Also to have a excuse to draw Gale, that two things /j

Galestorm belong to @qxuiara

#poppy playtime #smiling critters #smiling critters oc #space riders au #galestorm space riders au #when the brainstorm hit i just roll with it #you can say i got inspired with this dude #nova say

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madelynraemunson · 8 months

Text

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ plz

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

Chapter 002: Wing Man

You start your first night of work. Eddie requests a private show. But not for him; for his friend — a rich and lonely bachelor who can’t seem to get over his ex.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020

word count: 7.2k words

NSFW — lap dance, steve creaming his pants, abusive relationships, talks of trauma, steve and reader trauma dumping lol

pairing: lonely bachelor!steve x fem!exoticdancer!hargrove! reader (and lowkey eddie)

author’s note: yes we get with steve before we get with eddie, but we will get there okay??? 🫣🫣🫦 also don’t tell me you guys wouldn’t homie hop in hawkins because these men are SO FINE

tags: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n

“Let me see you dance I love to watch you dance. Take you down another level, and get you dancing with the Devil” -Wicked Games by The Weeknd

♡

A sultry black set.

A hot pink set with bows. Caribbean blue. Army green for the military men. Some cuffs. Personal wet wipes. Sanitizer. And lastly, a stethoscope to play the part.

“I can’t believe you accepted a caregiving job,” Max scoffs as you both make your way out of Scrubs 4 Less. “Do you even have healthcare experience?”

Your stepsister loved to mask her prying with carefully crafted screening questions. Even if they sounded pessimistic.

“Sure I do,” you shrug. “Remember that summer I cared for Great-Aunt Dotty when she had Parkinson’s? Figured maybe it’d be similar.”

“I guess.”

You take it upon yourself to remind Max that you are certified in CPR. And with that cert, you saved numerous people from drowning as a lifeguard. Of course that was for one year during high school, but it was experience nonetheless.

"Well, what about the heavy lifting?"

"Easy. All in the legs." you pat your thighs. Despite being calm on the outside, you are getting nervous now. About everything.

"Takes a lot of core strength too. And upper body."

It's like she knows what you actually will be going to be doing. However, there are parallels between both professions, and you made sure you made a choice like that so you wouldn't have to lie as much about the physicality of things.

"You seemed to have gotten the job pretty fast,” Max notes.

"Nursing homes are really short staffed. Especially with the pandemic and everyone leaving from all the burnout, they’ll take anybody who qualifies."

"Did they even determine if you do?"

"Are you questioning my ability to take care of people?”

You know you’re being manipulative. You can spot a manipulator from a mile away. But this little white lie is for you and Max’s own good. Even if it means selling her a fake story. Even if it means lying. Living a double life.

“An abusive home life and all-timers isn’t comparable.”

“Have you considered that some people with Alzheimer’s are combative as well?”

“And you had to accept the graveyard shift?” she pries further, ignoring all your valid points.

“It pays more,” you answer sharply, readily. “Two dollar shift differential.”

“Oh my god, we’re practically millionaires.”

The sudden change in Max's behavior is really catching you off guard. She was optimistic on her birthday. A little withdrawn when the weekend was approaching. Now the pain is evident it is almost unbearable. Sure, Billy isn't a problem anymore, but with all of his chaos, Max has found solace in using her hobbies as coping mechanisms. Her body needs that adrenaline, and now you have cut off access to all of it.

Max can't go surf. She can't run around freely just yet because she doesn't know good routes and trails. She doesn't have friends in the area besides you, Robin, and Vicky. She misses Donovan.

Max is hurt. You know she is, but you don't blame her. Still, you’ve had it.

“Hey.” you snap.

Max halts. She knows she went too far.

“I know it's sucky... the situation we're in right now," you sigh. "But I'm doing this for us, remember? It’s temporary. We just need a soft place to land, and this is paving the way towards that.”

At least that’s something you didn’t have to lie about: It’s a sacrifice you were making for her.

———————𓆩♡𓆪—————-

Orientation day comes in a blink of an eye.

Eddie is giving you a tour of Hellfire while discussing how his particular ‘system’ works. You’ve got to give him credit. His system makes sense.

“I don’t ask my girls to pay to dance here,” he explains. “I just think that’s bogus. Also, it’s Hawkins. Not that many competitors, so if I let you dance here, you’re automatically staff.”

You two walk down the hall. Eddie shows you where you would clock in and out, promising you your punch-in code by the end of the week. You learn that everyone gets paid out every Friday, because in Eddie’s words, “fuck that biweekly shit”. Tips go home with you every night, but you are expected to help tip out staff members patrons don’t really see or interact with. Therefore: Jonathan’s girlfriend Nancy whose House Mom, Henry, and Argyle. The boys make their money from bussing and serving. Jonathan earns tips from POTIONS.

“I figured as much.”

You graze your hand along the kukris on the wall as Eddie talks. He stops to take note of it and gives you a boastful smile.

“You like ‘em?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool.”

“That’s the perk of owning your own business,” Eddie says exuding a lazy stretch to graze the kukris himself. “You choose where the money goes, when it goes, how it goes.”

He ponders for a while longer.

“Most of the time at least.”

Clearly a majority of the money also went to the chicken wings.

Eddie leads you to back of the house where he then proudly showcases his wing menu to you. There’s the Hawkins Hot Chick for Nashville inspired hot chicken. Chicken Strippers for the picky eaters. And the ‘Hot As Cluck’ buffalo wings with spice scales named after Metallica songs: Fuel (mild), Fight Fire with Fire (medium), Creeping Death (hot), and The Unforgiven (Extremely hot). All are served with one’s choice of carrots and celery or crinkle cut fries on the side.

“Crinkle cut fries are the best kind of fries,” Eddie states. “Ain’t that right, chef?”

“Ay ay!”

One chef. For the entire back of the house. Though that seems like the textbook definition of a staff shortage, the friendly Latino man with long, black hair that he concealed with a hairnet and baseball cap most likely had it covered. He flashes you a kind grin with kind, hooded eyes to match, quite possibly revealing to you that he’s likely stoned out of his mind. But if it helps him through the shift…

“Argyle’s the man,” Eddie explains. “Pitched the chicken wing idea to me when we were both blasted.”

Suspicions confirmed.

“Is it just Argyle?” you inquire waving hello to him.

“Sometimes Eds helps out back here too,” Argyle answers for him. “Like when we’re really fucking shlammed, he’ll come back here and help cook.”

Argyle turns to you. You smile at him.

“But most of the time I got it,” he says. “That man’s got enough on his plate.”

“Yeah, Argyle’s a beast,” Eddie confirms. “Don’t know what I’d do without him.”

While Eddie tidies up back of the house, you and Argyle converse with one another. He’s 28, produces music on the side, and learned how to cook from his mom at the age of three. California native as well. By observing the mini station he has set up, you notice that Argyle keeps a stash of Yerba Mate with him at all times, and some bud in his mini gym bag. You also learn that he and Eddie often take breaks together, hot boxing one another’s vans as if it were some sort of competition. But, as Argyle had mentioned, with how much Eddie currently has on his plate, those joint breaks (no pun intended) have been pushed to the backburner.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Hargrove,” Argyle concludes. “Excited to have you on our team.”

“Likewise!” you shake his hand with a smile. “Looking forward to bugging you for chicken wings.”

“You bug me all you want, mamas,” he insists. “I’ll make you allll the chicken wings in the world.”

“You a flats girl or a drumstick girl?” Eddie questions.

“Flats,” you respond instantly.

You receive a distraught gasp from the cook while Eddie cackles.

“Atta girl,” Eddie smirks patting your back. “I knew I liked you.”

“BLAS.PHE.MY!” Argyle screams. “Drumsticks are where it’s at bro.”

The three of you argue back and forth about chicken for the next couple of minutes, Eddie sticking beside you through and through. Though play-fighting with your new coworkers seems meniscal in the grand scheme of things, you reveled in it. It’s the first time in a while you felt a sense of community outside your sister. You wanted to savor it, especially since you know that this is temporary.

“You’re a red flag, Hargrove,” Argyle jokes, clutching his chest. “You were perfect in my eyes until you said you were a flats girl.”

“Well it’s a good thing she’s mine and not yours,” Eddie jeers.

Your heart flutters. Eddie and chicken wings. You’ve GOT to be in heaven.

“Alright, word,” Argyle calls after Eddie as he pulls you away from the kitchen. “Word. I’m still gonna spoil her with food like she’s mine though.”

“He’s such a flirt,” Eddie says to you once you’re both out of earshot. “Endearing and endangering at the same time.”

“All in good nature right?”

“‘Course!” he exclaims. “We’re all about respecting women at Hellfire. Everything’s lighthearted banter.”

And you’ll revel in that too. Especially since ‘respect’ and ‘lighthearted banter’ weren’t things you were able to experience at home.

“Also!” Eddie adds. “Respectfully… Wear something simple but classy on Friday.”

“Ooh,” you chime. “Simple and classy?”

“Yeah, I’m talking neutral tones. Red lipstick also preferred but you can do whatever you want. I’ve got something I need you to do for me on your very first day.”

I’ll do anything for you, Eddie. Your intrusive thoughts are starting to take over.

———————𓆩♡𓆪—————-

It’s Friday night now and everyone is in their respective stations preparing for the rush. Argyle is prepping the fryer while Chrissy flirts with him for nachos. She waves at you with her fingers and gestures that you can have some too. You smile and mouth a, “thank you” to her.

You really like Chrissy. Of all the dancers you’ve seen so far, she is the most memorable. She is charming and sweet, soft but firm with her boundaries. She has regulars lining up for her daily, all with different types of quirks and interests. But Chrissy somehow fits all of their molds, just by how fast she can switch from doe to siren depending on her audience. You want to be just like her.

You and Eddie stop by the kitchen before heading off to finish orientation. There are chicken wings — flats only, of course — on the line waiting for you with a note scribbled on the back of an old ticket order.

“Shy Girl<3”

“Eat up, mamas,” Argyle encourages you. “Gonna need the energy for tonight.”

“Yeah!” Chrissy cheers. “It’s Fridaaay!”

You thank them before heading out with Eddie once again. Eddie steals a flat from you and flashes a thumbs up to the cook before you two leave.

“Mm,” he approves. “Fight Fire with Fire Buffalo.”

You are just about done with wrapping up orientation training and ready to start the first night on your own. That is until Mike Wheeler, Nancy’s younger brother and bus boy, comes along and interrupts Eddie’s train of thought. You walk with Eddie in silence, munching on your food while Mike relentlessly hounds him about bringing his girlfriend into the club. She is 18 but Eddie is refusing.

“But but-” Mike stammers. “The club is already eighteen plu-”

“But nothing,” Eddie interrupts. “This is Hellfire Club. Not babysitting club.”

“Well I’m 19 and you let me work here. Why does it matter if she’s 18?”

“Because you’re a dude, Wheeler,” Eddie hisses in return. “It’s different for the ladies.”

Not willing to risk any liabilities, he leaves Mike with just that. You follow Eddie, fiddling nervously with your hands as you watch him tsk and shake his head in disapproval.

“I can’t have teenage girls in here,” Eddie mutters. “That’s just blatantly obvious right? Or have I lost it?”

“No, right. Totally!” you agree.

Eddie has another rule. No strippers under the age of 20. Anyone under, including ages of 18 and 19 are children to him. He admits that he gets squeamish when guys bring their younger looking girlfriends into the club. You assume it pertained to his colleague’s girlfriends too.

You walk past the bar with Eddie, waving hi to Jonathan as you did so. Dustin is at the bar as well but is too busy to say hello. You manage to glance over and watch him fix his hair, trying to look his absolute best while FaceTiming his Mormon e-girl from Utah, Suzie. After eavesdropping for the past couple of days, you pick up that she insists on video chatting with Dustin every time he is at Hellfire to ensure his fidelity. Suzie wanted to be his “only wifey” to which ‘Dusty Bun’ assures her that she is.

“Uh oh,” comes a voice ever so soft it sounds eerie when it echoes through the club. “Someone’s in a bad mood today.”

Slithering into your periphery is the same tall, lean guy that you ran into earlier last week. Today he's sporting a white tank top that revealed a couple small tattoos scattered around his body, black pants that were tight enough to be yours, a loose wallet chain belt, and chunky work docs. His gorgeous blonde hair looks attainably messy by what you suspect is mousse. He smells of beer and cigarettes tonight, his tired eyes a precursor to his lust-filled gaze. A poster boy for all the men you wouldn’t want to bring home to your parents is none other than,

“Henry Creel,” Eddie says. “Mike’s just picking a bone with me. Have you met Hargrove? She’s our newest dancer.”

It’s seemingly Henry’s first day back. From the first day of orientation to now, you’ve only had run-ins with Jim, the older gentleman who is also a bouncer. Jim spent years with the Hawkins PD, but after a scandal that only Eddie and his peers seem to know about, Jim found a home protecting young women at the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club. The only place that gave him a chance.

You like Jim. You like everyone here. You are also ecstatic to see Henry again, this time as a dancer. You can see the excitement blooming in his eyes, with a steady increase in his pupil size by the second.

“Well, well,” Henry smirks. “Look who decided to join us.”

You two shake hands again.

“Henry’s my other bouncer,” Eddie explains, but you already knew that. “He’s my right hand man. He’s tiny but mighty. Could snap bones in an instant.”

You peer over at Henry with shocked eyes, to which Henry acknowledges with a dramatic bow.

“You’ll see it,” Eddie hovers a hand over your back. “I sure hope not anytime soon, but there’s always that one douchebag.”

“And they always underestimate me too,” Henry says. “I get a nice kick out of it. It’s a win-win.”

Henry is certainly not beefy, but judging by his muscle tone and sharp upright demeanor, he can put up a fight. Dude seems like he does a lot of the dirty work for Eddie. He can get away with it too.

After bidding ‘see you later’ to Henry, you continue walking with Eddie.

“So,” he starts. “Did you put together a cute simple outfit for tonight?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Good,” Eddie says. “I can tell it’s gonna look amazing. I dig the red lipstick and the choker.”

Eddie wanted classy so you gave him classy. Underneath the cloak, you are sporting a lacy black set with a matching black choker and classic red lipstick. Your hair is straightened tonight since beach waves are your signature.

“You want a sneak peak?” you smirk.

Eddie quirks up. “Oh man, do I? Let me at it.”

You take off your cloak to reveal what you have underneath.

Eddie stops in his tracks, taking in the sight in front of him. His gaze is both soft, yet lout. Delicate in the brows, yet carnivorous in the eyes. Slowly, his jaw lowers, uttering a silent gasp as he fully processes the sight of the vixen — you — in front of him.

“Jeez…” he strains. “You look…”

You blush. Electricity whirls through you as Eddie continues to relish in your beauty.

“Showstopping,” Eddie finishes.

He reaches his arms out and you take them, letting yourself fall into his chest as he pulls you to him. During the embrace, he sets his lips beside your cheek, brushing against them delicately as he gives you a verbal kiss.

“Mwah!” he exclaims, leaving you longing for a stronger peck. You feel like you’re on a cloud when he spins you to get a full 360 of your look. “I was expecting like a light color, or pastel…but black — black is your color.”

“Yeah?” you reply. “It’s not too edgy? Choker and all?”

“A lil rough around the edges won’t hurt,” the club owner approves. “He’s gonna love it.”

You follow closely behind. “He?”

Your first client. You had a feeling that’s what Eddie had planned for you today, but reality didn’t sit in until right now.

"Ever given a lap dance before?" Eddie inquires.

"Yeah, but not in this setting."

He seems amused with your answer. Eddie smirks as he gives you a nudge. "Perfect."

You two are walking down the corridor now, down to an isolated room at the end masked by a beaded curtain. You’re unsure if the goosebumps that form on your skin is because of the slight chilliness of the club or because you were walking into a seductive hideout with the boss you had the hots for.

You two stop just a yard short of the curtain. Eddie turns to face you.

"I've got a buddy named Steve. Not short for anything, his parents just... loved the 80s." he chuckles. “You’re giving him a private show tonight. One hour.”

Eddie’s buddy. The pressure is on. The name rings a bell, you believe Dustin was talking about him the first day you set foot in Hellfire.

“Oh,” you say. “I think I heard your friend Dustin talking about him last week.”

As if it were some inside joke, Eddie sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie mutters. “Don’t even get me started on those two.”

Eddie motions you forward, extending his arm to signal an “after you” gesture as you proceed into the private show room. The beads of the curtain carelessly clash into one another as Eddie saunters in.

"Anyway, Steve has been going through it lately. His lady left him for another dude, he lost his job because the city wanted another basic coffee shop instead of a place to rent cheesy B movies…and the last time he worked in the food industry he had to wear a sailor’s uniform, so he’s since opted out.”

You wander around what was going to be your office for the next hour as Eddie aimlessly takes his own path and furthers his lay-down.

“His folks want nothing to do with him because he doesn't wanna be nepotized by them. When he’s not working, he’s babysitting — you guessed it — Dustin and the rest of the boys when they’re not here or playing D&D with me. Oh yeah, and on the topic of girlfriend, he hasn't gotten laid in a fat minute.”

Eddie pauses.

"It's kinda depressing,” he says. “Now that I say it all out loud.”

He makes a sharp turn and walks toward the boombox he kept in the corner of the room.

"That is depressing," you mumble nonchalantly, as if you yourself had not been laid in a fat minute… contrary to your obnoxious brother’s popular belief.

“How do you sleep at night knowing you’re a fucking slut?” Billy’s voice haunts you.

You’ve only had one real boyfriend and Billy knew that. And that boyfriend, shortly after he left you for the girl he told you not to worry about, admitted that you were simply a placeholder for him. They’re happily married now and it tortures you knowing that being the first choice was never in the cards. Billy knew that too and used that backstory to fuel your insecurities. Billy knew you hated feeling used, yet brought it up every chance he got. Making his victims feel small, that was the source of his power. You shudder it off.

You watch as Eddie plays around with the boombox, ensuring that the aux chord was working along with all its other components.

"Tell you what," Eddie begins to barter. "You give him a good show, you can keep a hundred percent of your tips tonight. Consider it a sign on bonus."

“Wow, Eddie really?” you exclaim. “That…helps me out a lot. Thanks so much.

“Of course, doll,” Eddie grins. “Happy to help.”

Eddie finishes up tidying the room before walking back over to you.

“I can’t get over how amazing you look,” he adds one last time. “You’re gonna knock his socks off.”

“Thank you, Eddie,” you thank him one last time.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

He lingers for a while longer before going outside to look for Steve. Meanwhile, heart’s-a-fluttering you try to acquaint yourself with the place, choosing a seductive song of your liking before getting prepped.

Wicked Games by The Weeknd.

More ruckus sounds from outside of the show room. You assume your client has arrived.

“That’s the boy,” Eddie confirms. “BRB-right back.”

You excuse your boss as he makes his way over to his friend. While you wait, your mind begins to race. Does your outfit look okay? Does your breath smell? Do you smell? Despite all the wardrobe and wellness checks you’ve done, your mind is insistent that something else was off. To calm your nerves, you decide to take a quick gulp of Bombay Sapphire, a gin Eddie had provided for the room, before Steve walks in.

Liquid courage. May help with the performance too.

“There he is,” Eddie cheers as the two men greet each other outside. “What took you so long?”

“There was uh, traffic,” a softer voice responds.

“I call bull.”

The two talk a bit more, voices too quiet for you to make out what they’re saying. That, or the sound of your heart pounding against your chest drowned out their conversation. Steve sounds friendly. Timid, but friendly nonetheless.

You listen in on Eddie’s spiel about you. He called you stunning, explained that you just moved from California, and that you are exactly Steve’s type. Whatever that could possibly mean. You then hear Eddie go over the rules. No touching you without consent. No verbal or physical harassment. No sexual intercourse. And to tip generously.

“She sounds lovely. Thanks for the run down, Eds.”

“‘Course. She’s all yours, Big Boy.”

The beaded curtains clash once more.

In walks a man around Eddie’s age, late 20s, early 30s with sleek mahogany hair and slight puffy eyes. He’s sporting a gray North Face sleeveless jacket with a plain black shirt underneath and denim blue Levi’s. He’s a lot more preppy than you thought he would be. Steve’s reaction to you was similar to that of Eddie, despite how different they seem from each other.

“Hi,” he greets you.

“Hi,” you smile. “You’re Steve?”

He nods shyly. “You’re who they call Shy Girl?”

“That’s meee.”

It doesn’t take a body language analyst to see that Steve is guarded. It takes another fragile, sullen demeanor to know one.

“Are you one of Eddie’s shy friends?”

The comment earns a laugh from Steve. “You think I’m shy?”

“Just a little.”

He attempts to mask a gulp. “I’ve just never gotten a lap dance before.”

“You think I’m supposed to believe that?”

You stalk towards him and rest a hand on his chest when proximity and Steve himself grants you permission. You sink your palm in deeper when you pick up he’s receptive to it.

Oh yeah, that’s all gin.

“With your handsome self?”

Steve’s blushing now. “Yeah…strip clubs are kinda not my thing. They’re starting to be though, cuz I always come and support Eddie.”

“What a nice boyfriend,” you joke.

“Eddie and I do have a budding bromance,” he admits with a laugh.

“Boy I’d love to be in the middle of that,” you tease him honestly.

Steve is left stunned and speechless while you grab his hand and lead him to the futon in the middle of the room. He attempts to relax, exhaling the tension out of his shoulders and manspreading as he watches you encompass him. You walked in a slow circle around Steve as the music starts and he peers up at you with curious eyes. Alas, you stop in front of him, cupping his face softly in your hands and synchronizing your hip movements to the rhythm of the song.

Relate to your customers. Talk to them. Build a connection with them, you think to yourself.

“So how’s your day been?”

Steve cracks a faint smile. "Good, how's yours?"

"Good," you chime as you slowly lower yourself onto his lap.

Steve sharply inhales, sucking the tension he had just released right back into his body. You shake your head in disapproval and stroke his face calmly.

“No, no,” you coo. “Just sit back, relax. You’re safe with me.”

“I’m safe with you, huh?” he responds in an is-that-so kind of fashion. “You seem like pure danger to me.”

“Oh, please,” you snarkily disregard his comment. “I’m an angel.”

“In a place called Hellfire?” he challenges you. “I find that hard to believe.”

Steve wants to touch you. So bad. But he refrains. You feel it in his levitating palms, resting just inches away from the small of your back. You start to lightly ride his thigh, hoping to catch his palm in passing as you move your hips about. Instead you’re met with something hard at the base of his pants, an outline and protrusion that wasn’t there before.

Steve looks down and acknowledges it with a shrug.

"Sorry," he chuckles. "It has a mind of its own."

You laugh faintly in return. "It's okay. I'd say it's responding appropriately."

"Yeah?"

"Given the circumstances," you say as you grind slower, deeper. "Yeah."

"Well, that's a relief."

Steve is cute. And a polite man who values your consent was sure to receive it. You two lock gazes before one of you dared to speak again. It all feels like a blind date, and you’re two giddy young adults.

"You..." you start. “You can touch me if you’d like.”

"Really?" Steve asks. "Usually dancers don't let you do that."

"It depends who you ask," you smile. "Consent is subjective...and you have mine. C'mon."

He obliges and starts to graze your ass softly with his hands. You run his hands through his hair, then along his neck without lifting them. A muffled moan is slowly released from his mouth.

"Shit," he sputters. "Feels really good."

He tosses his head back.

"You make me feel so good."

"Aww," you grin. "Me?"

"Yeah you," his voice is deeper now. Huskier. "All because of you."

His hand moves upwards towards your bra and he begins to fiddle with the straps, and then the clasps. You continue your steady grinding, rolling your hips to the beat of the music, tossing your head back for the full effect while Steve holds back the urge to cup your perfect breasts in his kneady hands.

A whimper escapes Steve’s mouth when you find the sweet place to roll, resting a palm over his abdomen for leverage.

“Needy, are we?” you tease him. “Needy for me, Stevie?”

“So fucking needy,” he breathes, a nervous gulp swallowing another sneaky groan. “You’re gonna be the death of me, woman.”

I’ve got my heart right here, I’ve got my scars right here.

Suddenly, you cease the grinding, going from cowgirl to reverse. Grabbing a hold of both his knees with the back of both your hands, you sink down to the floor, knees bent, slightly out turned. Your hands move from his knees to encompass his elbows, accommodating the playful headlock he abruptly decided to have you in, watching you squat down beneath him.

“Mmm,” he hums. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

His arms creep from the sides of your face to the front of your face. You crane your head upwards, peering up at him and refrain from shivering when he brings an arm across your neck. His other hand rests on your face, stroking it tenderly.

“Get up here and, ride my thighs again, please.” he pleads. “It was feeling so good.”

“Okay,” you oblige before standing back up.

“Before you do though, let me get a good look at your ass.”

You stand there for him, bending down ever so slightly so he could run his hands across your back. He grabs a fist full of your hair gently with one hand and strokes your ass cheek with the other.

"Wow," Steve hums as he runs his fingers along the birth mark on your lower back. "I like this birthmark."

"Yeah?" you say. "Some people have said it looks like a tramp stamp."

"It's cute," Steve insists, pulling you onto his lap. “It kinda looks like a bat."

He points to where the wings would be and the fangs and you laugh. No one's admired your tramp stamp-esque birthmark the way Steve did.

"Thanks," you reply. "My brother has a matching one."

You pause.

"Sorry, that didn't sound all that sexy."

Steve tosses his head back and chuckles, hand resting firmly on your ass again. "You look sexy talking regardless, so I don’t mind.”

The chemistry between you and Steve feels so natural. You know if your nurturing heart felt like this with all clients you would be in big trouble. This profession isn’t for everyone and you realize that. But you decide to realize everything else later. Meanwhile, your focus right now is pleasing Steve.

You resume the thigh riding per his request, and chase your own subtle high as you did so. Steve whimpers and whines, seeming to long for you even more with every stroke of his hair, every brush against his cheek, every steady and calculated grind against his—

"Woah, are you okay?"

Suddenly you’re cut off by Steve abruptly pushing you off his lap. When you peer over at him, his face has gone completely red.

Did you do something wrong? Did you violate a boundary? Millions of thoughts race through your head. You can’t get fired on the first day of your new job…

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, I just..." Steve stammers, flushing a deeper red hue with every word. “I... uh, kinda came in my pants."

"Oh..." you begin.

"I am so sorry," Steve sighs. "Embarrassed is an understatement. I’m such a loser.”

You two start frantically talking over each other, one extremely apologetic, another sympathetic to the concerns. Again, it’s like you two are clumsy young adults on a blind date set up by your bold friends.

"It's been a while... so..." Steve stammers.

"Steve," you stop him.

"And..." he cuts out.

"It's okay," you reassure him. “It’s okay, Steve. If you need a break, we can stop.”

“Sounds good,” he agrees with a resigned sigh, the red colored flush migrating to his ears. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You go to put your cloak back on again and strut towards the gin. Perhaps offering the man a drink would help loosen up his nerves.

"What should we do with the allotted time left?" Steve wonders eyes following you. He’s rubbing his knees anxiously with his palms. “Eddie has this room booked for an hour. He needs to think you're doing splits on my dick or something or else he won't be satisfied."

Laughter erupts from the deepest parts of your belly at Steve's comment. Steve can't help but laugh as well.

"Hm, we can wait a bit and I can give you another lap dance?” you suggest. “Or a strip tease?"

You weren't used to those words coming out of your mouth, so you attempted to make it sound as normal as possible. Wow, you really just gave a lap dance. And someone came from it.

"Do you think..." Steve inquires. "That we can just... talk?"

----

So you and Steve do exactly that. You talk about your families, and your aspirations, your deepest fears, and your core values. Steve Harrington isn’t the loser he thinks he is. He’s a really cool guy. But deeply misunderstood.

“So you and your brother have similar birthmarks?” Steve questions.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Except his is on his belly. We literally took the term identical twins to a whole new level.”

He laughs.

“Your brother sounds cool.”

“He was.”

Steve gasps in astonishment.

“Oh, my god. I’m sorry. Is he…”

“He’s not dead. Just an asshole.”

The color returns to his face. He exhales steadily and shakes his head. You find his reaction funny, despite how twisted that made you sound.

“Dead to you though?”

“Pretty much,” you giggle. “Dead to me.”

You two do a cheers to that with your alcohol-filled glasses and take another painful sip. It burns.

“Tell me about yourself now,” you prompt him.

There’s a dramatic pause.

“Well,” Steve begins. “I’m an only child. So eyes have been on me for as long as I can remember. What’s Stevie up to? This is what we expect of him and this is what happens if he’s not what we make him out to be. It didn’t take til young adulthood to realize that I have been living in my parents’ shadow. I don’t even know what I like.”

Steve spurs on about how he has struggled with his identity, going back and forth between if what he was pursuing was a desire of his or his parents’.

“And for a while I thought I knew who Steve was. Until I lost myself again in a girl named Nancy.”

“Aw,” you pout.

“A girl,” Steve pauses waiting for you to catch on. “Named Nancy.”

Your eyes widen. “House Mom Nancy?!”

Steve nods as you slowly piece things together.

“So Jonathan’s girlfriend is your…”

“Ex girlfriend,” Steve confirms. “Small world, huh?”

You suppose it wasn’t good that Hawkins is so small. You’d hate for someone to recognize you when you’re taking a casual stroll outside.

Nonetheless, you push that concern to the side and continue your conversation with Steve.

“What happened?”

“Some petty high school shit,” he explains. “But it’s always been her. She made me a better me. The closest to Steve that I’ve ever felt.”

“Wow,” you say. “So you saw a future with her?”

“Marriage, kids, everything,” Steve confirms. “Then she decided I wasn’t what — who — she wanted.”

It’s silent for a while. Steve shakes his head bitterly and downs the rest of his drink. You slosh yours around waiting for him to speak again. Besides, if you did, you’d end up ugly crying about your ex. And no one wants their stripper trauma dumping on them when they’re supposed to be performing.

Thankfully, Steve is the first to speak again.

“Yeah, Nance. She looks… she looks happy,” he turns to you with dismal eyes. “I don’t ever wanna get in the way of that.”

“Do you ever see her here?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, she’s in the back being House Mom, making sure all the girls are taken care of and all that. And I’m sure she doesn’t come up front because she knows Eddie has been trying to play wingman.”

You chuckle. “With a stripper?”

“With anyone,” Steve chuckles. “God that sounds awful. I sound like a loser.”

“Would you stop saying that?” you snap. “You are not a loser, Steve.”

“I know I’m not a loser. Just feel like it sometimes. Especially when it dawns on you that you’ve been living life for other people.”

“I kinda know how you feel.”

You two lock eyes again. Steve rests a hand on top of yours, intertwining your fingers briefly before he begins playing with each of your fingers one by one.

"I guess…going back to the previous topic…” he proceeds. “If I could change anything about myself, I would've done more of what Steve wants to do. Not what Todd and Marsha want Steve to do. Or what Tommy H. and Carol want Steve to do. Because maybe then Nancy and I would’ve been endgame. Or maybe Allison. Possibly Tammy? Who knows? See? Everyone’s world but Steve’s.”

"Steve," you start. "I hope you realize that I have no idea who any of these people are. It’s kinda hard to keep up.”

"And that is such a relief to hear that," he sighs again, this time in exasperation. "I just feel so free talking about them to someone who doesn't know who they are. Hawkins is small, you know. And it’s good that the only bias you can form is in my favor since you only know of me."

You offer him a consoling pat atop the hand, to which he responds by leaning his head on your shoulder. With how tender everything has been with Steve, there’s a temptation to plant a delicate kiss on his forehead. But you stop yourself.

"I'd like to know you, know you, though,” you find yourself saying.

He gazes up at you. You two smile at each other.

“I’d like to know you more too, Shy Girl,” he answers. “If you’d let me.”

“Duh, it’s what I just said.”

He chuckles. “You’re not saying that for the tips?”

“No. Just human to human.”

You stroke his cheek longingly, running your hand along his stubble.

"It's also been a while since I've gotten laid too," you admit. "And I've got a lot of pent up stress I need to release. You seem like a trustworthy person to do that with.”

The energy changes. Steve’s grip on your hand tightens.

"Oh yeah?" He rubs your thumb with his and soon you find yourselves holding hands.

"Yeah.”

“Sounds like we have a deal then, Shy Girl.”

Before Steve gets any ideas, you interrupt him.

“I don't wanna have sex at work," you admit. "Especially not on the clock."

"Oh, yeah I didn’t think it’d be now. Some people do find that hot though.”

"It's my first day. I can’t disappoint Eddie this early in the game.”

"You're kidding."

You shake your head.

"Wow, I would've thought you've been doing this a while."

You blush. "Thank you. But nope, you’re my Guinea pig.”

Steve continues to gawk in amazement. Then he reaches for his wallet, grabbing a huge wad of Benjamin Franklins and handing it to you.

"Tell you what," Steve bargains. "You buy yourself something nice, get your bills paid, and come through in a couple days. The roomie won't be home so we'll have the place to ourselves. We can get takeout or something too. Whatever makes you comfortable, of course.”

You bite your lip. "I'd like that."

“Good. I’d like that too.”

———-

"So, how was it?" you hear Eddie ask Steve.

"Dude...I just about creamed my pants," he says as you hold back laughter. "You got yourself a good one."

"Nothing's ever too TMI for you, Harrington," Eddie says. "But thanks for the imagery."

"Yeah. I gotta get going now. I got laundry to put away at home. It's been piling so much I think it's going to tip over."

“Roger,” Eddie says before bidding him goodbye. “Oh, speaking of which, did you tip her good?”

“You bet I did. Woman like her needs to be spoiled rotten.”

————

You make your way back to the dressing room after saying bye to Steve and finishing the flats Argyle had specially made for you. At your locker, you subtly attempt to count the hundreds Steve gave you for his lap dance and talk session. The man left you 10 of them. A whole band.

You were stunned. What did King Steve do for a living anyways? It didn’t matter to you. You had enough for groceries, gas, and a portion of your rent, all earned in an hour’s work, and all yours to keep as Eddie insisted.

The realization makes your heart skip a beat. You and your sister were good for the next few weeks.

Knock, knock.

“Don’t freak out ladies, it’s just me!” Eddie shouts from the other side of the door. “Put your cloaks on I’m coming in!”

You watch as the girls scurry to get their covers back on. The amount of respect Eddie has for his dancers is insane. Perhaps it’s common decency but it was such a striking difference than what you were used to. It warmed your heart in a way, but also made you sad. You deserved this respect all your life.

When Eddie finds you, he starts towards you, a look of approval spread wide across his face. As deeply as you wanted it to be because he found you attractive, you infer that it’s because you’re bringing in good business — and that you’re good, given a small amount of experience with the pole.

You two are face to face now. Eddie speaks up first.

“Steve, uh,” he says. “Steve really likes you.”

“Oh really?” you smile. “I’m glad.”

“You’re just a natural, Shy Girl,” he compliments you. “Everyone’s just raving about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Based on what I’ve seen so far and what Stevie told me, yeah,” he confirms. “But I guess it’s no surprise. Shy girls are almost always the freakiest, huh?”

You try not to laugh while you’re witnessing the imagination of your boss running in the complete opposite direction of what really happened between you and Steve. Nevertheless, you let him. You didn’t mind taking up space in your dashing boss’s mind.

“You should come to work a little early next time you’re on,” Eddie says. “I’d like to take you to lunch.”

Heat spreads across your cheeks. “Really?”

“‘Course! I do it with all my dancers as a welcome thing. I’d like to know more about you. You’re more than just a pretty face and someone who simply works for me.”

‘I do it with all my dancers.’

Your heart sinks. Back to square one.

Eddie clears his throat.

“Anyway,” he says. “I’m gonna head out now. Gonna go see the lady friend. I’ve got Johnny boy, Argyle, and Henry holding down the fort.”

The tinge in your heart intensifies.

“Oh, sounds fun!”

“Yeah, I rarely see her cuz she bartends. Even though we work similar hours we work opposite days. But she got first cut tonight so I’m heading over.”

“Have fun, Eddie.”

“I sure will,” Eddie says. “Goodnight, Shy Girl.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

Eddie soon disappears out of sight and now your shift seems ten times longer. Regardless, you stuff your tips into your tote bag and prepare to meander around the club, enticing other bachelors for a dance.

Without Eddie around, it seems less exciting.

“Doing it for Max,” you remind yourself while fixing your hair in the mirror in front of you.

You reach for your phone to see the amount of time that has transpired since the private show with Steve. But the clock wasn’t your concern when your Home Screen lights up.

Your heart nearly sinks to the floor.

Billy Hargrove

1 Missed Call

Billy Hargrove

iMessage: 1 message

You open it.

What the actual fuck.

#the babyboyification of steve harrington #daddy eddie #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson smut #Steve #steve harrington #Steve harrington smut #Steve and reader #Eddie and trader

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vagabond-umlaut · 9 months

Text

gray cashmere

Solitude makes many a tough decision too easy to make.

However, is one truly ever 'one'? Or are they 'one' from a collection of many such 'one's' — guaranteed to be affected by the actions of one another?

Strictly isolated systems are mere hypotheses, anyways.

[Alternatively: Amanai Riko's life overlaps with that of three young students from Tokyo Jujutsu High for only fifty-five hours, yet the effects they leave on her and the effects she leaves on them– they can be felt even after a period of one-hundred-and-fifty-five months.]

▸ student! gojo satoru x student! fem! reader; 4400 words of me trying my best to forget the horror of the 'Hidden Inventory Arc' by writing THE CANON-DIVERGENT FIC I DESPERATELY NEEDED TO FUNCTION ATP; riko is the little sister yours truly the reader never had; kuroi is the gentle sunshine on a winter afternoon; THE sweet romance between satoru & reader; suguru is the most awesome best friend and/or brother figure ever; FUSHIGURO TOJI IS HIS OWN WARNING; Hidden Inventory Arc Spoilers with Canon-Level Violence; Angst with a Happy Ending.

▸ notes: The reader's CT was to read others' thoughts freely without them knowing, but after a binding vow she undertook when young [disgusted with the way the old geezers governing the jujutsu society misused it for their personal gains], she lost it, gaining the ability to instantaneously kill an entity the moment she opts to read their mind in place. Not even a special-grade can stop her attack. Aniki = older brother in Japanese.

▸ belongs to series we're the summer to our winter rain but you can read this as a stand-alone if you wanna!

▸ the gif, divider and characters used ain't mine. please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

DAY 1; 11:44

Yours is a beautiful, awful life when it's the one chosen for the sake of all.

Everyone everywhere will remain smiling, crying, speaking, yelling, moving – living, if put in a word– yet you'll be nothing more than a name and, if lucky, a fading face filed away in a mind. Yet, yet, yet– everyone everywhere will remain smiling, crying, speaking, yelling, moving— and one young Amanai Riko thinks that's what makes her fate so bearable.

Too bad one of her three bodyguards doesn't think along such lines.

"She's too young to die. Why is she even agreeing to this merger?"

Your quiet voice breaks Riko's scuttling from one room to another, in search of the things she needs for school.

Craning her neck, she peeks into the room, only to find you standing by the windows, holding a cup of tea delicately as you look intently at your companions. Geto's shoulders rise and fall in a short sigh. Gojo gets up from his slouch on the couch to drape an arm round you.

The girl thinks it's the softest she has seen the goggles-wearing boy appear in the time you all have been here.

(Honestly, this is the first time she is seeing Gojo act so careful and you, so disquietened, in the three hours the three of you have been here—

A jarring contrast to the way the boy introduced you as 'the coolest and hottest jujutsu sorcerer ever' who also happens to be his 'better half' while you greeted them with a beam (which did not reach your eyes) and turned away, focus switching to your beeping mobile.)

(Geto looked like an old grandpa then, when he whispered to Kuroi, a wide smile on his face as he looked at you, how difficult it was for the two of you to get together as a couple – and how happy and relieved he and your other friends are now, watching the two of you be so very in love with each other. Kuroi let out only a tiny quiet sigh with a small gentle smile at his words.)

Your boyfriend's voice pulls her away from her mind.

"You heard the brat, didn't you? She is Tengen-sama; Tengen-sama is her. So she isn't really going to die; she's going to live forever and ever and eve–"

"I thought I was the one who couldn't read between lines well in this relationship, 'Toru," you interrupt him, frowning. Riko finds it too hard to stifle the giggle that threatens to follow – albeit, the threat doesn't stay strong for long, vanishing away at your next words. Thrown into the room, a mix of visible anger and despair.

"The kid was obviously spouting all that nonsense, more as a means to convince herself than to convince us," you say; the young student considers bursting into the room, exclaiming she ain't a little kid, yet a voice in her urges her to stay put outside the door. Begrudgingly, she listens to it. You continue, tone the same as before.

"There's some part in Riko-chan which doesn't really want to merge with Master Tengen, but a burden once dumped on one's shoulders has to be carried, and Riko-chan has no option left but to choke that wily voice in her head until it quietens forever."

Gojo's eyes drift over to the door once. A bit startled and a lot scared, Riko shrinks into herself, yet budges not an inch from her spot. Focus returning to your puckered features, the junior high schooler watches him croon softly into your ears, "Babe, how about we discuss–"

"I don't think there'll be a later, Satoru," you say, then exhale air out in a burst of clear frustration, "And I seriously cannot understand how in this world you and Geto senpai can be so relaxed about this? Y'all are answering Yaga's calls as if Riko's an important but lifeless mail, while we three are some FedEx employees and not three sorcerers leading a girl a few years younger than us to her death, grinning and singing."

The cup in your grasp looks dangerously close to shattering; not to mention the way your cursed energy swells and swells until it comes too close to suffocating the hell out of her — it ebbs away faster than it came.

Face morphing into an easy smile, the girl watches you slip out from under your boyfriend's arm and walk over to her. She wishes the grin she shoots back is half as bright as she hopes it is.

"Hey, Riko-chan," you greet, voice shifting into a soothing melody, "Ready to go to school? Geto senpai's already called the driver. He must be waiting downstairs."

"Oh, I see," Riko responds, a bit lost as her gaze rakes over your face, then darts over to the two still in the room. The weird-bangs-sorcerer offers a small smile while he cuts an apple into slices. The other boy's eyes remain trained on the back of your head, upbeat nature nowhere to be seen.

She looks back at you. Kuroi asks her to hurry via a frantic yell of her name. The girl sighs and slowly moves into the direct line of sight of everyone.

"Have any of you seen a thin blue notebook anywhere? I can't find my music no– OH MY GOD, ONEE-CHAN!!! YOUR STUPID AS HECK BOYFRIEND DID NOT JUST MAKE PAPER PLANES OUT OF MY NOTES, DID HE!?!?"

———

DAY 2; 19:55

"Satoru is not really bad, y'know?"

Your comment arrives few hours and many adventures later – though Riko wonders how much of an adventure they were for you or the two upperclassmen of yours, given the way you three were kicking ass for the entirety of the time, both before and after Kuroi was captured.

Lips curving into a teasing smile – one which the woman, taking care of her since the latter's childhood, shares – the teenager returns her attention to you.

You blink back, a tiny smile playing with the corner of your lips before it widens, digging into your cheeks and crinkling your eyes.

"What?" you ask with a giggle, "Is there something on my face? Or is suggesting my boyfriend to be kind of good really that outlandish of a concept?"

"Hmm, do you want the nice answer or the honest answer?" Riko asks back, plopping a spoonful of the ice cream you bought, then breaking into a shiver as her brain freezes from how insanely cold it is. Neither you nor Kuroi bothering to hide your chuckles, you hum. "I'm not sure which I will find honest and which, nice; why don't you shoot both my way, Riko-chan?" you suggest then add, mirth gleaming in your voice, "Of course, when you're okay again, only then."

The girl thinks of retorting to you with a silent glare but opts to think better of it. Couple of minutes pass in almost silence, Kuroi and you chit-chatting about Okinawa in general while the three of you amble down the sidewalk lining the inky-black sea, casting eerie shadows in the sparse lights dotting the streets — when she decides to reply to your suggestion from before.

"I don't really think Gojo-san is a bad person," She says, stopping and offering you a smile over her shoulder. You too stop and accept it with a bright smile of your own.

Riko continues, "I mean, yeah, he's very, very annoying all the time – making fun of me and calling me a kid or brat – but if you chose him to be your boyfriend, I guess he's kind of fine. Maybe. Plus, you don't really seem to have a bad taste," she adds with an appreciative once-over at the sundress you're wearing.

You crack an amused grin. Riko turns to her caretaker. "C'mon, Kuroi. Tell onee-chan. She has a pretty nice taste in outfits, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, you do," the other woman is quick to agree with a kind grin, "I suppose Riko-sama is correct in saying this; although, Riko-sama..." trailing off, Kuroi smiles at the addressed girl the way she used to in her childhood, whenever the latter used to babble the stuff children always do, and gently rebukes.

"Having a good taste in outfits is not the best indicator of someone's taste in men. You must never view a person from an angle as shallow as that."

"Kuroi-san is right, Riko-chan," you pitch in your two cents an instant later, then cast the woman beside you a sly glance, "Though I wonder if that was an indirect criticism of 'Toru... I hope it wasn't – was it?"

"No, of course not," Kuroi denies with a small laugh. Riko watches you crack a freer smile at her words, which slowly softens when you move your gaze back to her. The ice cream in her hand seems four seconds away from melting; still the girl decides to ignore it in favour of giving you her undivided attention.

(Ever since she met you three, you've always struck the young girl as someone a bit... different.

From the way you train your focus on your opponents during a fight; to the way you speak, neither too loud nor too quiet, just the perfect loudness and pitch required to snatch everyone's attention and keep them for yourself; to the way you carry yourself, neither as pompous arrogant akin Gojo nor as discreet smug as Geto, but as a girl who is aware of her worth and won't hesitate to show another their place, if the need so arises.

Riko thinks if she lived a little longer, she might have wanted to make you her role model. Not that it matters now, though.)

Your musing voice break through her thoughts.

"Satoru was the one who suggested this trip," you say, sharing a half-smile with Kuroi, "The best option would have been to take you back to the school as soon as possible, where you and Kuroi-san would be safe and sound. Plus, our mission too would have been complete. An extra feather to our cap, given we delivered the Star Plasma Vessel to Tengen-sama and secured the foundations the entire Japan is based on. Yet he argu–"

You abruptly fall silent, the loving look on your face withering to one of helplessness and profound sadness when the ticking hands of the wrist watch you wear catches your eye; and you shove your emotions beneath a forced chuckle.

"Oh no, it's almost eight," you say, a faux buoyancy to your words, "Do you wanna go back to the hotel and have dinner there, Riko? Or some place outside, maybe? Our schedule's packed tomorrow – our littlest Riko-chan needs some good sleep tonight to not be fussy tomorrow, doesn't she?"

Glancing at Kuroi, only to find her with the same tense cheerfulness, Riko stifles a sigh and parts her lips into a mirthful beam she doesn't feel at all.

"I really wanna try the soki soba and the yashigani. Do you know any good restaurants nearby?"

You nod exaggeratedly, lips thinning into a solemn line though the faint ray of fun can still be made through the grey clouds cast over your irises. "Don't you worry, Riko sama. Your two faithful servants will certainly find a place to dine to your liking. You just keep being the cute little princess that you are."

The girl opens her mouth to snap back at being called a little girl yet again – you aren't very different from your boyfriend, after all – then shuts it, then opens it again, a teasing giggle wanting to bubble out.

"Y'know, onee-chan," she says, skipping over to you and smiling in an innocent fashion, "I answered your second question, but I never gave a reply to the first one – you wanna know it?"

You take a second before shrugging. "Um, yeah, why not?"

Throwing a mischievous glance to Kuroi, who hides her mouth with a palm and looks away, shoulders shaking a little, Riko returns her eyes to your expectant smile. And beckoning you to come near, whispers.

"There isn't anything on your face. But the foundation's on your neck and shoulders is kind of off, I guess. Were you bitten by a bug, onee–"

An obnoxiously cheery ringtone cuts the girl off. Your face burning a deep hue of coyness, she watches you pluck your phone out of your bag, then walk a few steps away, voice dropping to a hushed murmur – which takes a minute before growing shrill then silent. Your cheeks and ears sport the deepest shade of red Riko's ever seen.

Asking them for a little more time, grin so sheepish and flustered, you whirl on your heels and walk a couple of feet away, your hand fiddling with the Okinawa keychain your boyfriend bought you today at noon.

Lips quirking in a fond smile, Riko looks away from your shy giggling figure to the chuckling Kuroi, to the big ocean waves crashing on the sands below.

Yeah, it might've been good to have a chance at a bit longer life.

———

DAY 3; 15:08

This is not good.

Oh heavens no. This is so not good.

Tears springing forth and streaming down her cheeks, Riko moves to take a step towards you. Then, stills when you put up a bloodied hand asking her to stop. Face scrunched into a smile which, the little vessel knows, conveys nothing of the agony tearing at your insides; you cast a glance at the gaping hole in your palm, then drift your gaze back to her.

Something acidic and pungent surges to the girl's mouth — though not at you, never at you – but at herself, the sole reason why you're clutching your profusely bleeding wound, left by the bullet originally meant for her; why Geto stands shocked and numb, with a hundred curses looming round the room, ready to attack at the slightest hint of an order; why Gojo's probably lying near the torii gates, dead and swarmed by cursed maggots – if what she heard less than a minute back, isn't a lie, that is.

Judging from the sharp gasp of air you drew in then — it isn't, Riko thinks.

Your smile stays as pathetically serene as ever; the only traitor now being those rivulets of grief carving their courses on your face. You part your lips in a heart-wrenching plea.

"Run, Riko-chan. Run to a place far from here. Somewhere none can find you. And don't ever come back. Please."

Shaking her head a 'No!' as fiercely as she can, the girl bites back her sobs. A cold hand pulls her by the shoulder towards the entrance; she keeps her feet firmly planted to the ground.

Everything was going so, so well– why then did this abominable man have to appear out of nowhere and upend everything in her life? Only when she realized she did not want to be the sacrifice for the sake of everyone else, and that, she too could afford an ounce of selfishness — why then did this man have to appear and extinguish that singular flame of hope lit in her world? Why, why, why—

A harsh bark of a laughter barges into her thoughts.

Your eyes develop a pinch of panic as they travel from the man you froze in the entrance to them, then back to him. The victim of your cursed technique sneers.

"You're that girl with the psychic powers, aren't ya? Thought you can only use your power to kill a person; since when can you freeze them like a statue, eh— can see, hear and feel everything, but can't move a single muscle, except to speak, huh? Or, no, wait–" A second raucous laugh rings through the halls and corridors; you clench your wounded hand into a fist so tight, she thinks she too can feel the pain weighing on your senses right now.

The assassin jeers, "You must be so, so tired to not be able to kill this poor cursed energy-less bastard, hm? And on top of all that, you also must not have refined the technique enough to shut me up, yeah?" A vein throbs in your temple; the man speaks, more gleeful than ever.

"And given how I'm slowly losing the numbness in my arms and legs... your technique is so fucking weak, girl. And the jujutsu society called you their messiah, eh? Fucking fools, the whole lot. Their six eyes in a pool of his blood outside while their other trump card's soon to meet a similar miserable end at this monkey's hands. How funny, ain't it?"

Giving no semblance of a reply to him, you turn your eyes back to her – no, to Geto who's standing behind her – and urge him, so desperate and desolate, every breath you take a short jerky heave of your chest, "Take Riko somewhere safe, senpai. And don't return till you've gotten help. Now, go. Quick."

Craning her neck upwards, the teenager catches a glimpse of the boy grasping her shoulder firmly — hoping he'll refuse to listen to you and stay right there, fighting the monster right beside you — but finds no fragment of dissent on his face.

Extreme reluctance? Yes.

Profound melancholy? Yes.

Stifling resignation? Yes, yes, yes.

But dissent? No.

It makes an appearance, now and then, but never persists for long.

She makes yet another attempt to get closer to you.

"Onee-chan, no," Riko begs, snarling and thrashing from under Geto's unyielding hold on her arm now, "please don't do this. I wanna live my life to the fullest, but I cannot if I don't have y'all beside me. So, you–"

"Riko-chan, no–"

"–ask me to go away like an escapist coward–"

"Riko-chan, listen–"

"–staying right over here, next to–"

"RIKO!"

The harsh call of her name makes the girl stumble and stutter. It isn't you who called her so; it's Geto, peering down at her with moisture in his eyes. An ugly sob crawls out her throat. He mumbles, "You're way too young to understand all this, but know that, if you're out there in the world– safe, free and happy– the Star Plasma Vessel mission can be marked successful only then. Whatever sacrifices all of us made or are going to make today," a glance at you shows the bittersweet smile you're wearing; Riko's wails worsen, "they won't make any sense if, at the end of the day, you're harmed. So, please listen to us and escape with Kuroi-san, yeah?"

The man to her not-so-distant left flexes his fingers a bit. The three of you look at him before looking at one another. You look a few minutes away from passing out, skin paling and breaths growing labored with every second that elapses.

Eyes screwn shut, Riko lets go of the fight she was harbouring in her body. Geto's voice breaks with unshed moisture. "Try not to die, kid. I already lost a best friend today, don't wanna lose a sister too."

Riko doesn't need to open her eyes to know your reaction; the heart-rending sob paired with the "No promises, aniki," you let out tells her enough – before your cursed energy expands yet again, and a chilled palm pulls her by the hand into a swift run, the hit of her shoes on the floor echoing in the stuffy underground air.

Air which soon switches from the suffocation of ancience to that of blood and death — the teenager takes but a moment to realize who the person is. Biting down harshly on her lower lip, she swallows the raw anguish tearing her sinews apart, and keeps her eyes shut firm.

Willing the darkness reigning behind her eyelids to overtake every part of her body – especially her mind, being hurtled one memory after another, and another – Kuroi making her lunch for school; Kuroi teaching her to tie her braids; Kuroi congratulating for every success of hers and supporting her after every failure, be it big or small; Kuroi being the family she once thought she had lost in a car crash–

The sharp ding of the lift and the crackling warmth of the sun on her tear-stained cheeks are the last two things Riko registers, before the world round her fades away into a noiseless black — finally.

———

DAY 4718; 16:02

"Anableps can see both above and below the water at the same time, y'know?"

The statement and the awed "Woo!" that follows it rouses Riko from the siesta she was teetering on the brink of. She yawns and rubs her eyes. Then yawns again, a bit more subdued this time, considering a family walks past her.

Uni's been very stressful of late, and to top it all off, the woman who's supposed to handle this shift has called in sick – so, as fucking same as before, the manager is gonna call in some newbie to work instead.

The newbie being none other than Riko – very unfortunately – on a tiring Friday afternoon as today.

At least, the job pays well and she gets to spend time explaining fish and their world to excited kids, plus the occasional one or two adults who look a touch different from their usual bored indifference.

But, of course, there's always a group of friends who come bounding in.

Worse than a class of kindergarten children fighting for the single toy of a dinosaur their teacher has brought — Riko avoids such crowds of like the plague. Storming past them, turning down their query, asking a coworker to fill in for her – the young grad student applies all tricks and methods known to her to escape the situation.

To escape the familiar buzz of cheer and enthusiasm.

To escape the familiar weight of nostalgia and gloom.

To escape the—

"Um, miss, where can we find the whale sharks' tank? Heard it's the main attraction here... And, uh, we're also a little lost, actually."

Trains of thought thrown off-track, the young woman squeezes her eyes shut, then opens them again, a customer service smile flitting onto her lips as she turns back. And holds back a very exasperated groan. Why the fuck did Mio had to leave for a snacks break now of the innumerable times she could have gone before? And why does this crowd have to be the very thing she hates dealing with? Ugh... Never mind–

"Just turn to your left, go down the corridor, then to your right. You'll find the whale sharks there."

The pink-haired boy accepts the reply with a nod and a bright thanks, before the black-haired boy places a hand on his shoulder and he falls quiet. The latter looks strangely familiar, Riko thinks... ignoring it, she shoots the boys a quizzical smile. "Is there anything else you would to like to ask or—"

"You're my mom's friend. I've seen your pictures at home," he cuts her off, brows furrowing. His friend looks at him, so perplexed, not much unlike how Riko's feeling. He pays no mind, continuing, "You attended a Catholic school, love music and aquatic life, and have an obsession with coconut crab meat and soba, don't you?"

"Megumi..." A slightly older girl standing behind them with two girls donning identical t-shirts, begins in a lightly chastising tone, but the tour guide feels she's miles away from them. Catholic school, music lessons, aquariums, soki soba, yashigani, Okinawa... it simply cannot be you—

"Tsumiki! Mimiko!" A voice, Riko once was under the impression she'll never be hearing again, except in nightmares, rings through the near-empty hall of the aquarium, soon followed by the appearing of a face she thought she'll never see again, except in the sole photograph left with her on the phone Geto gave her, besides 5000 円 and contacts he asked her to get in touch with, as soon as possible, that evening a good twelve years ago in Osaka.

You reach a stop before the group, a young brown-haired girl trailing you with a worried scowl on her face. Dumbstruck, Riko watches you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.

"I can understand Nana-chan's phone is busy being used in clicking photos but the same excuse cannot be extended to you, can it? No. So, why on earth can't any of you four pick your mobile up when I'm calling you, hm? Or please don't tell me the batteries are dead. Again."

The blonde girl, presumably Nana-chan, smiles smugly while three out of the addressed four kids shoot a sheepish smile your way. Your frown slowly gives way to a fond grin and you huff a chuckle, shaking your head – which only grows in intensity when the girl following you lets out an annoyed hmph! and launches into a tirade how extremely worried the two of you were and how much dumb and careless them five are.

Eyes welling over with emotions percolated over the course of many, many years, Riko watches you grin so freely — only for it to still and fade when the spiky-haired boy says he has met your friend from the photograph, and you look from him to her standing inconspicuously, half-hidden in the shadows.

A painfully slow second passes.

The entire gaggle of kids falls quiet at the disbelieving watery chuckle you let out. Taking two steps forwards, she offers you a mirror image of your expression.

"Told you the aquarium's fun, didn't I?"

A call of your name bounces off the grey walls in a saccharine tone: Riko knows instinctively, can be no one's except one blue-eyed and white-haired bastard's. You cast a glance at the tall man rushing to you, then return your gaze to her, with the same radiant beam you gave on that day twelve years back, when Riko first expressed her real thoughts out in the air.

The young woman wastes no moment before running to you and engulfing you in the tightest hug she can possibly manage, tears rushing down her face. Your gentle voice shushes her, the way an elder sister would do to a younger sister.

Riko's lips stretch in the widest and freest grin she has felt in forever.

Joyful and thankful her onee-chan is finally back in her life, giving the added length it received some much-needed hues — 'cause a longer life is obviously good but it's the best when your life is long and spent with your near and dear ones.

▸ notes: The reader was in the process of developing and perfecting a new CT, hence her CE was so unstable – spiking and ebbing – besides the fact it drained her energy like hell. Toji was a smart man, he figured it out pretty quickly and easily. [And for the ppl who're wondering how the reader was able to stop the attack on Riko: she used a tendril of thoughts emanating from a person's mind to detect their presence, instead of their cursed energy remains.] [She can't read those thoughts, though.]

▸ masterlist

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tojifile · 10 months

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Kibutsuji Muzan: Succubus Survival

Hush.. just one more..

Genre: Romance // Muzan x succubus!reader

⚠️: Heavy suggestive and sexual references, kinky reader, immoral, not fully consensual, DO NOT BIND THE CHARACTERS TO REAL LIFE MORALS THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION

A/N: I'm so frustrated rn, this is like the 3rd draft I've had because it would suddenly post and answer privately ??? It was so annoying, so now I'm editing this on a private post. I love the request so much and thank you for requesting it but I will not be writing anything until I get my new device, I hope there'd be less mishaps there.

REQ: @cursetopia

Each night, in the houses of young noblemen—loud cries echoed through the corners of their rooms. You loved seeing tears fall down their cheeks as pain turned into pleasure until they couldn't tell the difference.

"Good boy.. just one more and you'll be free." You whispered in his ear cunningly. You were on top of him, freely guiding his body as you moved yours. His yogi was messily hanging from his body while your kimono fought to stay on your shoulders.

You used your blood demon art: Pearls of Restraint, which stuck to their name. They restrained his movement and ability to speak as you moved your hips in a quick and steady pace, chasing your own high as you ignored his pleas.

After a while you finally got more than a taste of your release. He immediately passed out from exhaustion. You fixed his yogi gently and put the covers over his body.

You stood up and fixed your kimono. You stood near the headrest and hovered your hand over his head, you made a motion, as if you were tugging on air. You pulled out a pearl from his head.

The pearl held his memories, you took the pearl and added it to your necklace—he was just one of the many men you've seduced into a soul-sucking night, literally.

You left his room through the window. You hid in the night sky, running swiftly yet quietly through the roofs to avoid getting caught. You ran to your room, in the most exclusive house in all of the entertainment district.

You disguised yourself as an oiran by day to avoid suspicion and to keep living amongst the male noblemen of Japan living in Kyoto, who—in your opinion looked better than the others.

Once you reached your room you were met with a calm glare, given by Muzan. "Darling~ you're finally back, come here." He spoke with calmly with a faint smile on his face as he patted his lap, insinuating that you should sit on him which you happily obliged to.

He stroked your hair gently, propping his chin on the top of your head as he held you tightly with his unoccupied hand as you sat on his lap. "Now then, let me ask you a question darling." He spoke, you hummed in response to let him know you were listening.

"What exactly do you want to achieve with sleeping with different men each night?" He asked, you took a moment to think of an answer but then realized he could read your mind so might as well just say what comes to mind.

You held your face as you kept an innocent smile on your face, "Survival, their souls and energy, if you're asking for practicality, my lord. Although if you meant to ask about my sexual desires, I love to see their reactions, it's quite.. adorable." You spoke happily as you looked up at him. It seemed like even the thought of their reactions turned you on.

Muzan found your answer amusing, he chuckled and continued to stroke your hair gently. "Adorable.." he whispered as he softly kissed the top of your head.

"Won't you be a good girl and show your lord this 'energy' you speak so highly of?" He spoke suggestively, he put you down in between his legs, "Go on my dear, I'm sure you have enough energy now." He held your cheek as he spoke, leaning down to you, offering you a soft kiss.

Spontaneous post: 07/09/23 23:34PM GMT+8 Philippine Standard Time

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simplysparrow14 · 1 year

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I think the one thing that I love the most about GoW (2018) and GoW: Ragnarok is the fact that the women of the world have the most power out of all of their male counterparts. And it isn't because they have higher power or any special abilities.

It is because they are women. And they are messy and angry and don't always have the best view of the world, themselves or others.

And that they are actually respected by the story itself.

Like, say what you will about how Faye had to die to kickstart Kratos' redemption arc, but I find it unbelievably badass that said dead woman played the long-game of the century, made herself a living legend in all of the 9 realms, knew fully that she was going to die young, but instead of wallowing in despair, she chose to smile and love her husband, son, her heritage and friends to the fullest despite it all.

Freya rallies armies, beats the shit out of her ex, regains her warrior spirit, reunites and rekindles her relationship with both her Valkyrie sisters, Kratos and Atreus and twin brother, heals from the death of her son and regains a new family.

Angrboda uses her companionship, trust and gentleness with Atreus to show him a glimpse at the life and skills of a giant, peace and comfort and overall domesticity that he had been lacking back home due to odin and fimbulwinter, as well as give him the skills needed for his journey into who Loki is.

The Valkyries are able to be well respected warriors who are fully proud to be fighting aside true commanders and fighters and not have to follow Odin's command.

Thrud becomes worthy to wield her fathers hammer, is respected by her mother and those around her for the first time.

Sif controls, rallies and persuades Thor, the meanest of the aesir to nearly kill Atreus and Kratos for revenge against the deaths of their sons, just by her words and love for him alone. SHe even tries to be a better mother to Thrud due to having lost Magni and Modi.

The Norns freely use their creepiness and vast knowledge of fate and time and wisdom to scare the shit out everyone they meet and because of that, people don't dare mess with them, not even fucking mansplain-manipulate-manslughter Odin.

The Lady beneath the water is so respected and worshiped that it's factually known that you don't talk to the lady, she talks to you.

A lot of GoW is about swinging axes and ripping apart enemies. But the most powerful characters don't do that. They use their emotions and smarts and intelligence rather than their fists.

the true character arc for God of War isnt about Kratos at all.

It's the fact that God of War went from a dudebro power-fantasy hack-n-slash game where the women were either relegated to sex minigames, sub-par emotional justification for *why* we are killing gods, and villainous roles---to actual 3-dimentional characters who are given proper respect, courtesy and value, who are integral to the story as a whole and are crucial to the long term consequences of the game.

#god of war #god of war ragnarok #gow ragnarok #kratos #atreus #angrboda #freya #the norns #thrud #sif #gow faye #gow spoilers

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micropoe10 · 5 months

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Batstarion & Batav (A Headcanon)..Pt.1🦇

I finally got the epilogue from the new patch, and first thing I did was stare this man down til he went to bat form and it did not disappoint! He is so perfect (not like he isn't already 100% of the time), but I wanted to hold him and squeeze him and just take care of him.

I have absolutely adored seeing everyone's wonderful batstarion artwork, and so many of you have inspired me to write Batstarion x Batav Adventures. Recently though I've been inspired by the amazing @pani-artz and their rendition of our favorite fuzzy flying menace.

So I thought what if...(Ascended Astarion and spawn/vampiric TAV) can move freely between themselves and their bat forms. And fly around Faerun causing chaos and going on adventures living their best lives....GET READY FOR SUPER FLUFF PART 1!!!

----

Taking place somewhere between his ascension and the epilogue party, Astarion and Tav are living the high life in their dark palace in Baldur's Gate. Hosting lavish parties, meeting foreign dignitaries, enjoying each other's company everynight. When they aren't entangled in one another's arms Astarion is working on his ascendant abilities.

Walking on walls and ceilings was a breeze, turning into mist nothing too it. But transforming into a winged creature of the night gave him a little more trouble then he'd like to openly admit.

He'd be all too entirely happy to show off to Tav one night after mastering it, hoping for a bit of praise..

He'd transform into a pale white pat with a little pink nose, red eyes, and yes the fluffiest hair on his head between his ears perfectly coiffed.

Tav would be so happy, telling him that he is glorious and magnificent, feeding into his ego lovingly before telling him how utterly adorable he is, as he flies around their head.

He would tell them "Darling, the Vampire Ascendant isn't adorable!" with an exasperated huff "I'm to be feared, I'm a menace look at me." He'd say standing up and puffing out his little chest. They'd be able to understand each other easily without the use of speak to animals due to their bond with each other.

"Of course my dark lord." Tav would reply with a chuckle under their breath, trying to keep a straight face because he is really is too adorable. Tav would then ask if it was a possiblity for them to transform into a bat as well.

Astarion would tell them that of course with Mephistopheles blessings/power there should be no reason that they shouldn't be able too. But that it would probably take many months of practice to be able too, and Tav should feel discouraged if they didnt get it right away. It would take meditation and focus and then POOF in the middle of Astarion talking Tav would transform into a bat.

No of course if Tav was a druid this would be super simple, as they would easily be able to turn via Wildshape.

Tav wouldn't be entirely steady with their wings quite yet, and would just run around on the ground. Because vampire bats can not only fly, but can run and walk on the ground with ease. Which makes them excellent predators.

Astarion would get broody over Tav being able to master transformation so quickly with ease. Pouting his little bat lips and crinkling up his little nose calling Tav a show off. "You just couldn't let me have this one thing."

Tav would crawl over to him, both of them still in their bat forms and try to look him in the eye, but he would keep turning around on them slightly annoyed grumbling to himself.

Tav would climb up on his back, knowing his ears are super sensitive when he isnt in batform and would take this opportunity to lick his ear now knowing how much he likes it. Before setting their head on his between his ears closing their eyes and chittering happily.

Astarion's little nose would flush super red with Tav's actions and he'd sigh contently, as Tav rested on top of him. As annoyed as he'd be about Tav learning it so fast he'd be really proud of them. He'd tell them later.

While entertaining guests in the palace, Astarion gets bored easily, he's into power, and controlling, not diplomatic speeches and old men talking.But also yearns for adventure like they use to have, so without warning he'll change into bat form infront of everyone and just fly off.

Of course guests will be shocked and startled, Tav would excuse themself telling the staff to start "the protocol" the bat has flown the roost.

The protocol is a safe guard for moments like this; normally means the use of the spell Modify Memory, or simply killing off all the guests.

Tav would go and search for Astarion who would be sitting in one of the windows upside down in one of the many towers over looking the city.

Tav would dramtically hold theirs hand to their head as if to swoon "If only there was daring roguish vampire acsendant to rescue me from the drabble and idle chatter of grumpy old aristocrats..." they'd peek up at him with one eye to see him wrapped up in his own wings.

"Darling people will talk if you're the only bat in the belfry, it's not a good look. Besides towers are for damsels, and while you're worth rescuing to me, a damsel you are not. Please come down my love." Tav would say to him before turning their back putting their finger to their lips, thinking aloud.

"I wonder if Gale has space in his tower for you...I'm sure he'd enjoy the company. Would possibly even want to study you." Astarion would fly down at the mention of being sent off to Waterdeep unwilling. Flapping his wings in Tav's face as they grab him and swiftly ties him up in a cloth swaddling him on his head poking free.

Astarion would be screeching and chattering away..."unhand me, I am fear on wings, terror of the night, I am the darkness!!"

Tav carries him into the throne room, as he continues to chatter and struggles against his bind "darling you know I dont understand you when you're chattering that fast".

Tav puts him down still swaddled on the throne kneeling before it. Astarion has stopped thrashing around for now and then the world goes sideways as he falls over his head hitting the stone throne with a thud.

He blinks repeatedly.."I'm going to fucking kill you." as Tav picks him back up and props him up with pillows.

Tave winks at him, "A lot of talk from a little guy, but if you did that my love who would help you take over the world? Bring our enemies to heel..help me drain every last one of those pompous aristocrats out there?" Tav pouts playfully while gently stroking Astarion's head between his ears.

Astarion makes a sound somewhere between a hum and a purr, enjoying Tav showering him with attention, rubbing his head, playing with the little tuft of hair on his head twirling it around their finger.

Astarion also is starting to enjoy the comforting feeling of being swaddled, held tightly in place has a calming affect. Like when Tav normally comes up to him while they are both in their mortal forms and wraps their arms around him in an embrace. Holding him a little longer each time without breaking away.

Astarion smiles at the thought as Tav runs their finger down his small furry cheek and under his chin, bringing their lips to kiss him on his tiny pink nose.

---

A/N: 🦇🦇 WHEW that was a lot, I will be posting many more HCs and you know, bat adventure snippets 🦇🦇 if you have anything you'd like to see, any batstarion x batav adventures you'd like to see, or want to be put on the Tag List just drop me an ask. 🦇🦇 - until later my Bat Babes🦇🦇

---

Tag List

@pani-artz @tragedybunny @tallymonster @bunnidarling @spacebarbarianweird @justporo @just-a-refrigerator

#astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #bg3 stuff #bg3 oc #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #my headcanons #astarion headcanons #batstarion #batav #my seratonin #astarion fluff #possible angst #batstarion x batav

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cheralith · 1 year

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if the shoe fits — 「 prince!vash x reader x prince!nai 」

content warnings ; gn!reader, they/them pronouns, reader wears a ball gown and mentions of makeup, mild violence, mention of a tri98 character, not much romance but more so tension from nai tbh whoops

contains ; royalty!au, cinderella-esque!au, gardener!reader, friends to lovers (?) (vash), enemies to lovers (?) (nai)

notes ; i can't stress enough how well rachmaninoff's symphony no. 2 in e minor: adagio, followed by largo suits this so much, please take a listen as you go!

The names of Nai and Vash Saverem of JuLai were no strangers to the townsfolk of their kingdom. Firstborn twins and only children to the late queen Rem Saverem, the two were notorious for sticking by each other’s side almost on the daily, but also for their contrasting personalities. In front of the people, Prince Nai is distant, only preferring to stare straight ahead when in an open carriage and seemingly ignoring his townsfolk. His lips would subtly purse at the sight of the crowd before drawing a breath and crossing his arms over his chest. He says that it’s the best way to make an impression on the townsfolk—their future king cannot be bothered with sillier antics, unlike a specific someone.

Prince!Vash cannot be any more different from his brother, who is to be crowned with the regal title of “king” when he is of age. He’s much more connected with the townsfolk, often waving excitedly to them while in the carriage and taking any gifts that are handed to him with a large smile on his face, cherishing and archiving them in his bedroom. The ladies love him, their babies too, and he loves them back. A natural charmer—he’s managed to easily win the popularity contest amongst him and Nai, since he prefers to frolic out of the castle without suspicion to spend time with his people.

Prince!Nai busies himself more with work-related matters, ruling the palace with an iron fist. Make one move out of line and your fate is already decided by him before you can even beg on your knees. It’s not to say he’s completely authoritarian, however, since if he could rule the way that he truly wanted to, the townsfolk would despise him and would demand his younger brother to usurp him, despite the fact that the younger twin has no interest in royal politics.

Prince!Vash brings joy and light to the palace, he makes the place much more lively. He prefers to dine in the boisterous servants’ quarters rather than with his brother and other boring royal officials in the quieter dining hall, enjoying their stories about what life was like in the village or their stories about his late mother. They often say he reminds them of her—the fondness in his eyes, his soft and playful voice, and his pacifistic, loving demeanor. It’s also there that they freely complain about his brother without fear, to which Vash can only laugh and excuse Nai to the best of his abilities.

Prince!Nai knows his place in the world. He belongs to the higher pedestal, like a true future king should be. White gold and royal blue adorn most of his clothing, signifying his importance and regal nature. He knows his place in the world—he just wishes that everyone else does, too.

Prince!Vash forgets he’s a prince half the time, just like how he “forgets” to wear his crown (he just merely doesn’t like the feeling of superiority it entitles to him, but he guises it under the complaint of it being too heavy). He’s intrigued more by the culture of his kingdom and what a “normal” person would do rather than the gleam and glory offered by his palace.

On an early Saturday afternoon, Prince!Nai frowns at the sight of his brother talking amongst a particular someone when he passes by the gardens with his royal court following behind him while they continue mumbling about incessant political meetings with other kingdoms. He can recognize those dirtied gardening boots and soiled apron that sit a little too close to Vash’s thigh for his liking anywhere, and his frown deepens when he watches as an amateur royal gardener hands the younger prince a red flower with its petals all bustled together, clicking his tongue when dirt-stained hands touches the pure white of Vash’s glove.

Prince!Vash is awe-stricken by the flower you hand to him, carefully twirling it around with his fingers. It was his mother’s favorite flower, according to the other gardeners. You give him a toothy smile and say he came to the garden at the right time—geranium season has just bloomed and the garden sprinkled with their beauty all over this spring in honor of the late queen.

“I hear your mother was a lot like you,” you murmur quietly, watching as the prince pets the petals tenderly when you change into your spare, cleaner shoes. “Do you have memories of what she was like?”

He looks at you with a glimmer of longing flashing through his cerulean eyes. You’re about to apologize for your hastiness when you see his lips thin momentarily before he gently smiles and leans back into the seat of the gazebo that protects you and him from the afternoon sun.

“Gentle,” is what slips past his lips, “is what I remember best. Kind and wise, too. She used to always tell me that there’s beauty everywhere, even in the harshest of places. All it really takes is for one to just simply,” he reaches over to you and gently nestles the flower neatly in between your hair and ear, not noticing you stiffen at his touch despite him looking at you straight in the eyes. “... look a little closer.”

Prince!Nai can only huff at the shared touch between a lowly gardener and the other branch of his royal blood before briefly excusing himself from the royal counsel to escort himself to the gardens, not wanting his brother to be in such close radius of you any longer. He calls out his name sternly, making you and him flinch at the sound of his voice. His nerves relax themselves when Vash pulls away from you, but his jaw clenches slightly when he sees a speck of dust on the fingertip of his glove that Vash scratches his cheek with, embarrassed.

“You should be getting ready for tonight’s ball,” Nai states flatly, not even acknowledging your existence when you bow and greet him. “There is much preparation to do.” His eyes fleet towards you, where you stand still, your head still bowed to show your respects to his majesty. “I expect the flowers for the ballroom to be set up by early evening,” is all he says to you before trotting away with his head held up high.

Prince!Vash makes sure that his brother is out of sights before he sighs and urges you to lift your head up. Apologizing for his brother’s rudeness, he can only sigh at the fact that he couldn’t sneak out of the palace tonight like he usually does, making you laugh when he pouts at the thought of entertaining boring old nobles and lords.

“I wish I could say that,” you mention as you smooth your pants out. “Balls seem like fun—dancing around in pretty clothing and eating all those tasty desserts the chefs make.”

Vash snorts. “Sure, they’re fun if you like talking awkwardly with people twice your age and having people step on your feet after not being able to sit down for almost three hours.”

“But still!” you exclaim. “Just the thought of being in a ballroom and being with everyone enjoying themselves would be such a delightful sight.”

As you sigh dreamily about your fantasies, Prince Vash can only stare at you incredulously, marveled at the two different worlds that sit side by side so close under a gazebo. He wonders if you fantasize about royal life a lot, wondering if you think like him but with his fantasies about being a commonfolk and not worrying about the societal pressures of living up to his brother. He finds it so fascinating that such two different people from two different worlds can be together under a single roof, bonding over miniscule things like flowers. It’s what he finds so amazing about human nature the most—the skill of connection.

He looks at you from the corner of his eye as you gaze longingly into the garden when all of a sudden, an idea pops into his head.

Prince!Nai carefully watches with contempt as you and the younger prince talk amongst each other from his office window that sits a few stories above the garden, sneering when Vash holds both of your speckled hands suddenly and nods excitedly, the sparkle in his eyes evident even from a hefty height. His eyes narrow in suspicion when you shake your head to his unknown words; your brows furrow in nervousness before Vash caresses the top of your hands with his thumbs, making Nai’s icy blue gaze harden.

Prince!Vash is about to beg on his knees at this point.

“You must come! You’d enjoy it, I promise,” Vash pleads as he grips your hands tighter. “I’ll be by your side the entire time, so you won’t feel too anxious.”

“Your majesty—” you attempt.

He pouts. “Please don’t call me that,” he says with a soft frown, not enjoying the sudden formality.

“—it would not be wise for a menial gardener such as I to attend such a regal event,” you whisper, your eyes darting over the place to avoid any eavesdroppers. The palace does enjoy its part-time gossip, after all. “I am not suited for it.”

“But I am inviting you!” he exclaims. “You would be coming on my behalf. I’m allowed to do that, I swear!”

Your lips purse in anxiousness, a thick swallow trailing down your dry throat. “It would not be deemed appropriate… and what if his majesty found out about one of his staff attending a royal ball and not tending to it?”

“Then that would be my problem to handle,” Prince Vash retorts. “Please come. It’d make me eternally happy.”

“I…” your words fail you, and you do consider giving in for a brief moment just to get the prince off your tail before your eyes deepen with disappointment one more time. “I’m sorry, my prince, but I must refuse your offer.”

Prince!Nai cocks a brow when he sees his younger brother’s smile disappear and morph into a saddened frown at your words that he can’t seem to articulate from the window above. He watches a little too intently when Vash heaves a great big sigh and finally stands up, his eyes rolling when he offers you his hand. Assuming that the conversation between a gardener and blue blooded prince is finally over, he moves his eyes to his royal secretary.

“Must this be a ball with the intention of finding me a spouse…?” Nai huffs, settling himself in his chair. “I can rule a kingdom perfectly fine without the nuisance of a marriage.”

Legato can only shake his head at his superior’s words. “Tradition goes as follows, your majesty. Your coronation cannot take place without a spouse by your side. At least you are able to choose them—your mother was not granted that option.”

The future king of JuLai knows that, and he also knows that he should be more grateful to what he is given. But he has always been alone and prefers to keep it that way, his younger counterpart being the only exception. Yes, his mother may have married to a more irrelevant royal, but after his death, she was able to rule JuLai properly by herself, so why couldn’t he? Nai only shakes his head before staring at the royal orb and scepter that sit in their glass box on the dresser, a reminder that he keeps close to remind him of his goals and his duties. He can feel the ghost of their coldness on his palms from practicing so much in the mirror. His hands twitch.

“Your outfit for the ball is in your quarter’s, my prince,” Legato says before excusing himself to make sure the preparations for the ball are in place.

Nai can only sigh in disappointment when he watches the doors of his office close before standing up again to face the window. His eyes graze around the garden again before sharply landing on the gazebo again, where nothing but soil-ridden boots stand under it

Prince!Vash looks into your eyes, where disappointment hides under a curtain of uncertainty. He sighs, releasing your hands from his grasp. He supposes that it does seem a little too risky to sneak in a commonfolk into the royal ballroom, and he wouldn’t want you to face any punishments if you were caught.

“Thank you for the invitation, though,” you retort. “I truly do admire your enthusiasm.”

“If I was able to invite the entire kingdom, I would,” the prince sighs, biting the inside of his cheek. “I’m sure everyone would enjoy it, especially the children.”

You smile softly at his words; he was always a man of the people and it never fails to show even during more private moments. “I have no doubt about that. Perhaps in another lifetime, when you are king, you’ll be able to do that.”

A haughty laugh escapes his lips. “If I am able to do that without being a king or leader of sorts, that’d be better. Honestly, if I’m able to just one day escape this life in general—I’d be satisfied.”

You shrug casually. “What’s stopping you? You could always just escape and go live under a fake name, I wouldn’t tell a soul.”

Prince Vash pauses suddenly. He snaps his head to look at you with a sudden idea lingering in his head at the mention of a fake name. Glassy eyes go to scan your figure up and down and slowly, an almost mischievous grin starts to etch onto his face.

“Fake name, huh?” he raises his eyebrows at your confused countenance. You exclaim out of surprise when he suddenly tugs you away from the gazebo and back into the castle. “I have an idea.”

The evening sun is beginning to rest its rays. Prince!Nai watches from the leveled floor as the guests begin to flock in numbers into the ballroom, occasionally bowing to greet those who greet him. Legato stays by his side closely, making sure no one would get too comfortable to the royal host, his eyes darting to eye any suspicious characters.

“Is there anyone that you find… interesting so far, your majesty?” Legato murmurs. Nai finds his attempt at loose matchmaking poor.

"Do not ask such foolish questions,” Nai scoffs quietly as he bows to a curtsied countess that bats her lashes at him. “Where is Vash? He should’ve been down by now.”

Prince!Vash waits outside an almost-never used dressing room, wincing occasionally as he hears you yelp from the pain of having your hair tugged in a certain direction or cough from the amount of powder dabbed onto your face. His plan was sure to work; have you be disguised under a fake name with a fake title from a fake kingdom and merely just have you accompany him the entire night under the impression that you and him fancied each other when in reality,it’d just be you helping him get through the night to avoid talking to other political figures and most importantly—let you have fun.

“Are they almost ready?” Vash asks the head seamstress that runs in and out of the corridor. He pulls out his inherited pocket watch from his mother, its hands ticking a little too fast for his liking. “I’d hate for us to be late.”

“Nearly, your majesty,” she replies, ribbon between her teeth as she shuffles back into the room. “Give us another moment—they do not seem to have a tolerance for a makeover, I’m afraid.”

He gives out an amused laugh when he hears you hiss through your teeth as your hair gets pulled back. “P-please be more gentle…” he hears you mumble.

“Work your magic however, Meryl,” Vash grins and says with a wink, “I’ll give you and your team double the pay if you manage to make my jaw drop.”

Prince!Nai anxiously taps his foot, his eyes flickering back and forth between the growing crowd of nobles and the large clock that screams Vash is quite late. The guests themselves have asked a number of times where the younger Saverem is, his presence already ghosting around the ballroom.

“Legato,” Nai calls. “Take Livio and Monev to search for Vash. I cannot have his tardiness stain our reputation like this,” he stresses.

“Prince!Vash!” Milly, a handmaiden, calls out worriedly. Distress floods her entire being, causing her to trip on the rug and fall towards him. His reflexes do not fail him (he can thank all the swordsmanship training for that one) and manages to break her fall with his arms. “Prince Vash! They’re looking for you! Prince Nai’s bodyguards are asking about your whereabouts—!”

Vash curses under his breath, knowing that your transformation wasn’t complete yet. “Meryl, how many more minutes do you need?” he calls aloud to the head seamstress, only for his face to pale when he receives a reply of a plentiful fifteen more minutes at minimum from the closed door. He turns back to the handmaiden, urging her to, “Tell them I’ll be down there shortly, and that I was just um… occupied in the bathroom!” he laughs unconvincingly before urging her to leave the corridor and forward the message.

He knocks on the door. “(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

His heart lightens at the sound of your voice coming from all the commotion. “I, uh…”

He wanted a chance to at least look at you to see if you were properly fitted for the part before the ball. “I unfortunately have to go down to meet my brother, so I won’t be able to escort you like I promised… but I’ll meet you down there once you’re down!”

There’s a brief pause before you ask, “You’re not coming with me?”

He swears the mild disappointment in your voice is enough to break him whole. “I can’t, I’m so sorry. But both Milly and Meryl know what to do, I’m putting them in your care!”

Vash begins to dart out of the corridor before he pauses and quickly walks back up to Milly, and in a hushed tone, reminds her, “And please… do not forget about my gift to them.”

Prince!Nai hears his name being called aloud from the right side of the ballroom. His silver eyes meet deeper azure ones in sweet relief, before becoming unamused again at the sight of his brother’s hair all tousled, his sash not properly seated across his chest, and his crown sat improperly atop his head.

“Where were you?” Nai mutters to him before fixing the brooch on Vash’s collar. “Everyone was asking about your whereabouts?”

“Ouch!” Vash exclaims when Nai tightens his collar. “On the toilet. I think I had too much to eat for lunch, haha.”

Nai only looks at him with mild disgust. “No matter,” he waves off. “The fact is that you’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

Nai’s next few minutes are filled with him commemorating the ball to the currently present guests, thanking them for taking time out of their schedules to celebrate such a festivity with him and letting him host such a regal event. He etches on a fake smile to the people below him, making it subtly known of his position above them on the leveled flooring by refusing to greet them from down below and making them come to his feet.

The last few guests are still flocking in by the time the first couple of dances start, and Nai can’t help but eye Vash’s fidgeting and consistent scanning of the ballroom floor. He watches as Vash’s eyes go to dart at the clock while bouncing on his heels—biting his lip in what seems to be a foreign anticipation of sorts. Nai is about the question if he was alright, seeing as how nervousness was an extremely rare face that his brother would put on until when Vash’s eyes return to the dance floor. They no longer bounce about the crowd but instead, fixate on a specific sight that makes his jaw drop slightly. But when Nai attempts to share the same sight, Vash beelines down to the dance floor, Nai’s shouts of his name falling deaf to his ears.

He hesitates to follow him, but his foot stops in place and almost enables him to move. Before becoming paralyzed at the sound of his name being called by one of the royal advisors. Nai snaps at him to leave him be, glaring at the man and making the advisor stiffen and scurry away, but when he returns his eyes back to the dance floor, Nai almost loses sight of his twin just before he spots him weaving through the dancers thanks to his bold red suit.

“Vash!” His eyes follow him until Vash slows towards something—no, someone that Nai can’t see thanks to his brother’s broad build. He grits his teeth, almost losing his composure at his brother’s hyperactiveness.

His tension suddenly seems to ease itself when Vash finally moves out of view to reveal what had gotten him so worked up.

Prince!Vash looks at you breathlessly, eyes wide and an open-lipped smile gazing down upon you as you stare up at him.

“You look…” he scans your complete appearance ever so carefully, savoring every detail.

The flecks of the lights given by the chandelier embellish you in a soft spotlight. Adorned in a shimmering, celeste blue ball gown bespeckled with diamonds that had made everyone around gaze at you in wonder, Vash bit his lip—the color suited you a little too well for his liking. Elbow-length silk gloves snaked their away around arms that were usually shielded with soil-stained gardening gloves, and instead of a wide-brimmed sun hat like you usually wore that hid your face and hair from view, your hair was neatly done and atop your head settled not a sun hat, but a jeweled tiara with matching earrings and a choker that opened up your painted face.

Normally, you do not get a lot of eyes following during the daytime when you’re in your usual outerwear. But Vash can’t help but feel weary when he sees people eye you with curiosity and admiration in your current attire—some part of it wants to believe that it’s only because you’re talking with him, but all their attention is on you, like his own.

When Vash doesn’t finish his sentence, you worriedly fidget with the itchy material. “Do… Do I look weird?” you inquire with no self-security in your voice. “Is it too flashy—”

“No!” Vash shouts a little too loudly, gaining a couple of stares and raised eyebrows around him. “You look…” he swallows thickly, attempting to find better words to describe your appearance, but all that weakly chokes out is, “beautiful. Incredibly beautiful.”

A heat rushes to your face before you softly smile. “Thank you. You look just as dashing tonight, my prince. Oh and uh,” you lift the skirt of your ball gown up slightly, just enough to reveal the beauty of a pair of iridescent, sapphire-dusted glass slippers that sparkle just like the crystals in the chandelier above the ballroom. “Thank you for the gift. Your goodwill is valued greatly.”

He can’t help the bashful smile that creeps onto his lips; it feels like he was just complimented by a divinity themselves. “I-I hope it’s to your liking, and I tried my best to guess your shoe size. Are they too tight? Too large? I can quickly ask for a replacement pair if—”

You hold your gloved hand up to pause his rambling, lips curling into a soft smile. “They’re the perfect fit, my prince.”

Relief floods Vash, and he lets out a dramatic breath that makes you laugh from his antics. The young prince then reaches his hand out towards you, moving aside to let you take a better look at what you desired most—the elegance of a ballroom floor.

“Well then, shall we dance?”

Prince!Nai breathes in sharply as he sees a stranger take his brother’s hand—so sharply it stings his nose, not enjoying how the stranger touches Vash so unbelievably casually. It doesn’t help his case when he doesn’t recognize who the stranger was in the snowy blue ball gown despite him knowing nearly every single person in the ballroom. He first wonders why Vash knows them, then he second guesses himself and asks why they know Vash seeing as how the conversation between the two was friendly—a little too friendly.

He’s brushed with a sense of familiarity, almost. The air feels thinner.

He stares at the two as Vash helps them onto the dance floor, where the stranger seems to already be stumbling over their own two feet. Nai can recognize a face of worry anywhere, and it’s currently plastered on their visage—pursed lips, wide eyes, he’s seen every form of it from the palace’s workers when he’s around.

Another conversation busies itself between them and Vash… and it almost looks like he’s giving the stranger instructions on how to waltz properly. From the looks of it, the stranger seems to be some sort of a viscount or baron, judging from how particularly young they were… but what sort of noble doesn’t know the basics of a waltz? Nai’s brows furrow, his ears drowning out everyone else who tries to receive him in concentration between the two particular individuals on the dance floor.

“Legato,” he chants, his eyes not leaving the two when the stranger accidentally seems to step on Vash’s foot, making them both exclaim in surprise, a short burst of laughter between the two quickly following. “Who is that dancing with Vash? The one in blue.”

“Hm?” his royal secretary looks up from his clipboard and squints at the stranger stiffly dancing. He squints. “I’m not… too sure, your majesty… I don’t think I can recall them on the invitation list.”

“Perhaps a trespasser?” Nai mutters to himself, poorly attempting to hide his horror. It was not uncommon for those not under noble titles to attempt to sneak into festivities they were not allowed into, though they had never made it particularly far. How dare a lowlife commoner sneak onto royal property and seduce his brother?! What sort of things or favors could the stranger possibly want from the royal prince? The thought of his more naive sibling being taken advantage of by a mere villager makes Nai’s blood boil hastily. “Bring them to me at once.”

Prince!Vash looks at you with a partiality embedded into his eyes, watching as your own fleet over the beauty and articulation of the ballroom’s interior and marveling at the people decorated in fancy clothing. Joy is plastered all over your face, even though you’d never admit it.

“How do you take the ball so far?” Vash asks quietly as he gently picks you up on a strengthened beat, settling you down easily. He can hear the clink of your glass slippers being set on the dance floor softly, like two champagne flutes toasting together.

“It’s all I ever could’ve dreamed about,” you sigh happily. “Thank you again, I truly do appreciate it.”

“I thought I could use the company,” he laughs, “I haven’t run into any weird marquesses or dukes yet, so keep at—” Vash’s smile suddenly falls flat onto the floor at the sight of a familiar bluenette approaching your and his way, a sternness that replicates his elder brother’s on the royal secretary’s face. A nervous bob of his throat attempts to hide itself under his ascot. He can’t let his nerves get to him or you.

“Legato.”

“My prince,” Legato greets flatly, giving a poor bow that would be completely unacceptable under Nai’s eyes, “Your majesty requests you and your…” Legato’s narrow eyes trace your figure, his brow raising when you look away instead of greeting him. “... accompaniment at once. He would like to meet them properly.”

Vash’s spine freezes, and he can feel you stiffen as you grip his gloved hand a little tighter. “O-of course, we’ll be there in just a mo—.”

“He requests your presence, now.”

He and you can only anxiously follow Legato’s figure in the crowd, a worried glance from you meets his half-secured one, silently telling you, “Rest assured,”

Prince!Nai watches under stone-cold eyes as the mysterious stranger, Vash, and Legato come before him, all three of them bowing in respect to the future king.

“Vash,” Nai declares, making his younger brother look up, “Would you care to introduce me to… your companion?” he asks, not even attempting to acknowledge the stranger that stands idly beside him.

There’s a pregnant pause that skims through the thickened air between the three of them before Vash exclaims out in surprise and nods his head rapidly, a large smile (yet somehow doesn’t reach his eyes) plastered on his lips. “A-ah! Yes, of course!” Vash gestures to the person beside him.

Prince!Vash steps aside to introduce you properly, signaling to you that he will do most of the talking for you, giving Nai your given fake name. “They’re the child of a noble from the high court of the kingdom of Marche, and they’re coming on their father’s behalf since he has fallen ill.”

You curtsy to him out of respect, trying your absolute best to avoid the future king’s cold gaze looking down upon you. “It is such an honor to be invited to such a prestigious event, your majesty.”

Prince!Nai doesn’t reply to you, only letting out a soft grunt of semi-acknowledgement. His stare doesn’t break from you, though, still halfway convinced that you were who you said you were.

“Marche…” Nai mutters and tucks his chin in between his fingers. “Where is that on the map? I don’t recall such a kingdom.”

“It’s a rather small domain!” Vash exclaims hastily. “It’s up towards the northern hemisphere, so it’s almost entirely covered in snow—! All the way up to one’s knees!”

Nai’s eyes narrow. “And how exactly do you know that?”

Prince!Vash’s mouth suddenly pools with regret at what he said. Words get caught up in his throat and his mouth hangs open like a fish.

“Prince Vash was so kind enough to send food and supplies to our kingdom after we were hit with a sudden blizzard,” you interrupt. “Our kingdom thanks him charitably for such generosity.”

The older Saverem turns to look at Vash with a hardened look on his face. “When was this? Why was I not made aware of it?”

“You were too busy with leveling out the war between Augusta and Mei-City during the time,” Vash continues, “I didn’t want to make things worse since you were so stressed, so I decided to take matters into my own hands with Marche.”

Prince!Nai’s irritation seems to grow more and more with the passing seconds that he’s in close proximity with you. He finally takes a step down from the pedestal that sits viewing the ballroom and lifts your chin up with his gloved hand—examining your features. Something about you seems too… retrospective.

Nai thinks it’s too loose of a term.

His face scans your weary eyes, your painted, warbling lips, the slope of your nose, the crease of your eyes… he can’t quite place his finger on it, but your face doesn’t only look familiar, but feels familiar, as well, as if the shape and angles of it mimic someone else. It frustrates him that he just doesn’t know who. All he knows is that you are not worthy of the tiara placed atop your head because it looks too strange… too foreign on you.

“You remind me of someone,” he murmurs as he changes the angles of your face with his hand whilst brushing your bottom lip with his thumb. “Someone I know. Someone I’ve seen before.” His voice goes criminally soft, so quiet that only you’re able to detect the poison in his voice that stings you with disarray.

You step back a little too rashly. “I have… rather the common face, your majesty,” you excuse with a tight throat.

“I see.” The future king continues to study your features for a few more seconds before almost thrusting your face away from him—you draw a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding as you attempt to regain your balance. Returning his attention to Vash, he merely states, “I’d hate to spoil your fun for tonight, brother. I hope that you and… your company… enjoy yourselves,” before brisking off stiffly somewhere else, most likely somewhere he can quietly watch you two with watchful eyes.

Prince!Vash notices your shaken-up disposition and places a hand on the small of your back to let yourself breathe properly when you and him head back to the floor. “Are you okay?”

You nod, but your eyes warble with a curtain of glass over them. Vash thins his lips and briefly apologizes again, per usual, for his brother’s antics, attempting to ease you with excuses of how he’s always like that towards people he didn’t know and he’s just too overprotective of him.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” you choke out, pacing a bit forward. “I should probably leave before he really confirms something—”

“No! Don’t!” Vash abruptly grabs your hand and forcefully turns you around to face him before you can escort yourself out the ballroom you had been in for less than half an hour. He had done too much effort for you to be here, it’d be too much of a waste of time (and money!) if you left so early.

Your eyes widen at his rashness, blinking owlishly.

“I-I mean… there’s still a lot of time left… and I could really, reallyyy use the company,” Vash pleads and grips your hand a little tighter while he waltzes you onto the ballroom with him. “I promise I won’t let him near you without me,” he softly whispers before the large crescendo from the orchestra.

“Just follow my lead.”

Prince!Nai watches from the corner of his eye as he talks amongst different dukes and earls about the latest news regarding the seven kingdoms, not exactly picking up on their words like he usually does considering his mind was displaced somewhere else that needed his attention more desperately than political scandals.

He bounces about the ballroom, going from individual to individual in hopes to try and get a better glimpse of Vash and the seemingly uninvited guest from “Marche.” It wasn’t too difficult considering the blue gown you were wearing on the dance floor was eye-catching, but the other people in the crowd made it much too difficult to get an unblocked view of you. Vash doesn’t seem to be letting go of your side, either, unwilling to move more than a couple of meters away from you even as he talks amongst others.

“Livio, what do you know of a kingdom by the name of ‘Marche?’” Nai asks his bodyguard.

The half-masked man turns to him, confused. “I have never heard of such a nation, my prince.”

Nai is half-convinced. Livio had never been all the best at book smarts, let alone geography, so he turns to the embodiment of his second brain, asking the same question. Legato chuckles darkly, clutching something behind him. “I checked the historical archives a few minutes ago, and you would be quite intrigued as to what I had found, your highness.”

Legato shows him a torn-out, faded map of the seven cities, subcities still etched onto it…

… minus the addition of a particular northern region.

“There is no such nation under the title of ‘Marche’, your highness,” Legato says, a smirk sneaking onto his lips. “Your suspicions were right. That person besides Prince Vash… is a fraud.”

Prince!Vash happily dips you down just before the exuberant song played by the orchestra ends, making you yelp in surprise before laughing aloud with him at his sudden caper. He pulls you up again with ease and wipes the sweat of his brow. “Probably the best song they’ve played so far!”

“Indeed,” you sigh out as you fan yourself. You never expected a ballroom to become rather stuffy—or perhaps it was the constant dancing you had been doing for the past couple of hours that caused you to become so flushed. “I’m going to get some air outside before I pass out, is that okay?”

Vash, completely forgetting the vow he had made to you at the beginning, nods and tells you he’ll be close by to grab some refreshers and leaves you to your own accord. “Don’t take too long! The final dance is about to begin!”

A soft laugh escapes your lips, nodding before you whisk away to the chilled air of the garden. The night is young—you’ve never felt more alive than you did now. Perhaps you did make the right decision to tag along with the young prince this evening, since starting tomorrow, you would no longer be able to experience the joyous experience of tonight and would have to go back to tending to the garden that you walk about in. A statue honoring the late queen Rem sits in the center of it all, and it gazes upon you with a familiar gentleness. The moon is set high and it smiles down upon you as you breathe fresh air into your lungs again as you settle onto a stone bench that sits in front of the statue, watching as the nocturnal wildlife in the garden play and prance.

A rabbit peers at you from underneath a rose hedge curiously, mimicking your actions as you tilt your head at it. You fight the urge to let out a coo before you motion it towards you, you’ve always had somewhat of a knack with animals. It slowly reveals itself and prances toward you with its eyes mirroring the moonlight before it scurries away when a looming shadow approaches you from behind, obviously frightened.

“I take it you’re enjoying yourself quite well tonight,” Prince!Nai declares behind you.

Startled, you let out a soft cry of surprise before you turn around and face austere, glacial orbs that belong to the one and only future king of JuLai. Your heart pulses—already having a sneaking suspicion of why such a prestigious royal figure was isolated with you in the lone garden.

“Y-your highness,” you answer weakly, knees about to give out as you stand on weak legs. You aren’t sure whether the ache from your calves is because of all the dancing or because of the nerves.

“How is the ball?” Nai questions whilst he circles around you like a hawk around its prey. You can only stand so still as you look straight ahead, not daring to look into those eyes. “Is it to your liking? I hope the music fairs nicely, I picked it out myself.”

Clutching onto the fabric of your gown, you nod compliantly as you continue to avoid eye contact. “You have… great taste in music, my prince.”

“Why, thank you,” he replies, a confidence he exudes casually distinguished in his voice. “How is the food? The pastries are not too sweet?”

“Not at all, your highness…” Your nerves slowly begin to freeze over the more laps Nai does around you, caging you in an invisible rope as his eyes never leave your figure, the same eyes that were used to examine you much too closely.

“That’s good, that’s good,” he mumbles. “Tell me, what foods do you usually have in Marche? I have a particular sweet tooth, are there any desserts you’d recommend me if I were to… take a visit there?” he stops pacing and settles himself in front of you, his aura wading off nothing but dominance. “To just check up on how the state of it is, you know. That must’ve been a terrible blizzard, I’m sure.”

The inked sky hides your heated sweat, but doesn’t hide your chest rapidly going up and down and your breath betraying you. It falls too short. “There’s…” your words get mixed up, voice going soft. “There’s a cake th-that we eat annually during the celebration of the… the…”

Nai cocks a brow, tilting his head almost coyly to the side. “The…?”

“The… anniversary of the war against the neighboring kingdom we won a few decades ago,” you complete with little confidence.

“Oh?” Nai’s eyes narrow, a subtle smirk snaking on his lips. “Which kingdom?”

You can feel your voice begin to fail you. Eyes darting around for a familiar tuft of straw blonde hair and a dashing red suit, you don’t seem to spot anyone else in the garden except for you and the future king.“I… I can’t seem to recall, your highness, my apologies…”

He chuckles and comes to your aid all of a sudden and answers for you, instead. “I recall Augusta having conflict with a certain kingdom in my history books, perhaps it was them, then?”

A haughty laugh and nod sneaks their way past you without second thought. “Y-yes! Augusta—! I’m honored to say that we were able to triumph over them, despite a rather tough beating—”

“Liar.”

A thick pause goes through the garden before it’s broken by the sudden loud gong of the palace clock, alerting the stroke of midnight was upon you.

“P-pardon?” you hesitantly ask, turning your head up to the prince before your nerves completely freeze over and paralyze you in your spot at the sight of his ice cold eyes piercing straight into you.

Prince Nai slowly steps towards you, his sullen countenance never faltering. “Augusta… is located in the southwestern hemisphere, where there is nothing but dry land and deserts for iles. I do not think that such a land would be neighboring a kingdom where a blizzard devastated it.”

Your breath hitches. Vash is nowhere to be found, no matter how hard you look around you, and you are much too far away from the ballroom courtyard to see anyone else that can come to your rescue. Not even the animals of the night seemed to appease you with their presence, leaving you entirely to your own devices in the hands of the future king of one of the most powerful kingdoms on the planet.

“I—must’ve gotten my facts mixed up,” you choke out, feeling the air around you become thinner and thinner with each step Nai takes. “W-was it Augusta? Oh no… it was Dec—”

“December," he starts, his voice knowing. "was perished in an avalanche more than two centuries ago,” Nai interrupts, as he circles behind you. “Nothing, no one remains there except ruin,” he murmurs into your ear, his breath sending shrills up your spine.

His foot goes to step onto the fabric of your gown, making you fall over backwards and prey to his wrath. Your lip trembles as he looms over you with his broad build. You second-guess your thoughts from minutes earlier, the blood from your heart pumping into your ears all too loudly.

You should’ve never accepted Vash’s invitation.

You should’ve never put on those beautiful, gifted glass slippers.

You should’ve never given into temptation.

“So now, tell me why…” his voice drops to a poisonous whisper when he crouches beside you. “I also was not able to locate Marche on a recent map.”

His actions repeat from earlier, but this time, they have too much force and strength. Nai grabs your chin almost painfully and ignores your cries of pain when he squeezes your jaw between his hand, forcing you up on your feet to look up at him.

“Y-your highness—”

“You’re a fraud,” Nai declares venomously. “A fake, a trespasser, and a criminal who wants to squeeze every living cent out of my brother, yes? Tell me, you pest…” his grip on your jaw tightens so harshly, you’re frightened that your cheeks, now beginning to stain with pained tears, will bruise from his fingers and your attempt at prying his fingers off work to no avail. You’re frightened that your teeth will squeeze out of their cavings from the strength of his grip. “What did you want from Vash? Money? Jewels? Or did you wish to harm him in the work of another kingdom? Are you a spy? Answer me, snake.”

Your rapid shakes of your head do not convince Nai that you aren’t a threat at all, only making his hand that grips your jaw go to your throat. “I am none of th-those…”

“Liar!” Nai thunders, his voice booming throughout the garden as he draws his sword from his hip and places it aside your throat, the prick of the blade grazing your skin. Nai’s eyes wind with malice as your gaping ones that tangle with fear stare straight at him. “Tell me the truth or face a fate worse than death it—”

“Nai! Let go of them!”

Prince!Vash goes to sprint towards you from the entrance of the palace’s courtyard. Nai drops you out of shock and your fight or flight instincts finally begin to kick in when your nerves thaw from the shock.

You watch for another split, merciful second as Vash quickens in pace, but he’s still much too far to reach you in time. As you get up, your slippers barely supporting your weight, fatigue is beginning to kick in much too early. The muscles in your limbs ache and suddenly feel all too heavy for your liking, but with a final burst of strength given to you by an unknown will, you manage to get away from his grasp by shoving him. The strength shocks both you and him, however, and launches you straight backwards into the stone statue of the late queen. You can only watch in horror as it lands forward, shattering into little pebbles of cobblestone.

The impact of the statue of Rem Saverem knocks you down to your feet again, as well as Prince!Nai, and he uses your disposition to his advantage before you can start your getaway. His hand determinedly locks around the heel of your slipper as he hisses out, “You… are not going anywhere, trespasser.”

“Please—!” you cry out as you tug with all your strength from his grip, vision blurring from the tears that rim around your eyes. “I meant no harm!”

Another wave of strength fueled by adrenaline rushes through your body and through the fatigue, through the fear, through the horror of it all, you manage to slip your foot away from your slipper before finally sprinting away.

Prince!Nai begins to get up and chase after you until he’s tackled shockingly by Vash, forcing the two into a wrestling fight on the dirt. Nai shouts at him to let go and chase after the trespasser, with Vash retaliating with a firm decline and holding him down to the best of his abilities whilst taking in the kicks and punches and insults Nai forces upon him. Unwillingly, he blows a punch to Nai’s gut and Nai spits out a mixture of blood and saliva, doubling over on the garden floor that’s now littered with trashed petals of flowers and speckles of stone and marble because of two.

The head of Queen Rem Saverem’s eyes glisten up at them almost disappointingly in the moonlight.

Vash staggers up slowly, limping from the scratch marks his elder brother clawed into his leg. He glares at his brother through a black eye. “They said it themselves, they meant no harm!”

“Who were they, Vash?!” Nai cuts in, glaring up at him. “If they meant no harm… who were they?!”

Prince!Vash can only look at Nai almost pityingly as his chest rises and falls. If he were to admit who you truly were… he knew for a fact Nai would have you exiled from the kingdom… or worse, executed entirely. He couldn’t let that happen—even with his excuses that he was the one that dragged you into this mess. His brother’s bias towards him could never be swayed.

He licks his lips, his eyes glancing at your minimizing figure in the distance.

“I…”

“Your highnesses!”

Prince!Nai and Prince!Vash look behind them to see Livio, Monev, and Legato rushing toward the two, all three appalled at the scene in the now-ruined portion of the garden and the sight of two dirtied princes with dirt and blood soiling them.

They do not have time to ask what on earth had happened, as Nai has already devised a plan to capture and punish the trespasser accordingly. His eyes fleet over to the crystal slipper clenched firmly in his fist, tightening it in his grasp more at the sight of it as a reminder of his failure to properly protect his brother from the lowlife that call themselves commoners.

“Tomorrow…” he heaves with a steady breath, his eyes darkening as he stares at the slipper, “Get every single young person in the kingdom into the palace and force this upon their foot.

“This…” He raises up the glass slipper for all of them to see. “... shall help us catch our criminal and punish them accordingly.”

“Nai—” Vash pleads through a bleeding lip. “Don’t!”

“Once you do find who suits the slipper,” Nai continues, before turning to where you ran off. His eyes bleed into your disappearing figure venomously before he picks up his sword and throws it at Legato’s feet.

“Bring them to me at once. Alive. I want to see them beheaded with my own two eyes.”

(a/n): hi again! i recently just watched the 2015 live action version of cinderella, and my, was it gorgeous. as the main inspo for this piece, i hope that the cinderella aspects were clear enough in this with my own twists to the story, since that was my main aim. i may include another part to this, maybe even turning it into a miniseries as a whole for all the nai lovers out there (i did him dirty here, sorry!!) because i myself want to include something for him, but i'll see how this piece does first and if anyone would be interested in a part ii to this.

other than that, thank you for reading, and reblogs are always appreciated :] !!

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