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animeyanderelover · 7 months

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Prompt 153 "Tell me how much you love me whilst I fuck you into the mattress.” For Muzan?

I’m so excited for the new season to come out. By the way, I'm not sure who exactly his real parents were back in the Heian era so this is conjured up by my own imagination. This is one of the darker pieces that I have written so be aware of that.

@leveyani @kanaosprotector

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, manipulation, violence, death, afab s/o, Nsfw, blood kink, dacryphilia, degradation, non-con, s/o starts bleeding during sex

Words: 5.9k

Prompt 153

“Muzan?”

You called out hesitantly as you stepped onto the property of his family's residency. It was already night, a chilly breeze blowing through the district that made you shudder in the yukata that you had hastily put on when you had been notified by one of his other servants that the young lord had wished for your presence. Had something happened? Had his health further deteriorated? The servant hadn't answered you any of those questions as they had quickly left you as soon as they had delivered the message. But they had looked terrified for whatever reason.

Obviously you were worried about Muzan as you had been his personal maid for years now and had stayed with him despite his fragile condition. You had stayed up many nights whenever he had been bedridden and had always accompanied him whenever his health had been slightly better and he had wished to go outside. You had even been there when a doctor had diagnosed him with a terminal illness that would kill him before he could even reach the young age of 20 years.

The mortified look on Muzan's face, the angry glint in his eyes, his shaky hands as he had grabbed the doctor with the weak strength he still possessed in his sick condition as he had hissed at the doctor in sheer wrath yet also fear, had demanded from him to find a cure only for you to quickly help him to lay down again when a coughing fit had suddenly sized him.

It was a terrible memory as you had never felt as hopeless before as back then, unable to help Muzan to escape from the inevitable death that had been trying to take him from the moment he had been in his mother's womb. Even your words hadn't been able to soothe him from that moment on. In fact it had been from that moment on that he had started rejecting you completely for reasons you didn't fully understand but had accepted silently anyways. You knew that you were only a servant and hadn't been able to truly feel angry at him. Muzan was lonely and confused, scared and angry. You hadn't been able to blame him for his behavior. It had still come as a shock when you had been informed that he had told the remaining few servants in the household that he didn't wish to see you anymore yet you had swallowed your sadness and confusion and had moved on by helping your parents.

Yet here you were again. It hadn't been that long since you had been last here but for some reason it still felt strange. Precisely because you had spent so many days of your life here were you able to notice that something felt off. You couldn't detect any other sounds which was strange because normally some servants would still be awake at this time and enjoy some quiet time for themselves. You could also not see any light behind the shoji doors nor were any of the lanterns outside lit up for your arrival. The only source of light was the crescent hanging in the sky.

"Hello?" You called out again, this time in a slightly raised voice, your eyes trying to decipher anything within the compound that would indicate that someone was there. You just needed the validation that your gut feeling was lying to you by seeing a servant somewhere or just seeing anyone on here who belonged here.

You gulped comedically loud, the sound of you swallowing cutting through the thick silence that made you fidgety, your hands unable to relax as you clutched the thin material of your yukata in your sweaty palms. You didn't know what to do. No one was here to welcome you, to invite you inside and the uneasy feeling somewhere deep inside your stomach warned you that something was wrong and that you should leave. You just stood there within the residency, contemplating if you should leave and just come back tomorrow.

"(y/n)."

You nearly jumped when you heard Muzan's voice from somewhere. You looked up in surprise, eyes flying over the scenery before you spotted his silhoutte. You hadn't heard him at all and wondered when exactly he had appeared. On the other hand you could only see very little due to the darkness anyways so it was just likely that you had missed him because of the lack of lanterns being lit.

"What are you just standing there? I believe that I ordered you to return to me, didn't I?"

There it was again. The knot of anxiety somewhere in the pit of your stomach that only tightened when you heard his voice. He sounded... so cold. His voice held a strong and confident tone that you had never heard before yet there was also this underlying tone of iciness that you just hadn't expected to hear when he was talking to you.

"Forgive me, please. It's just that I saw no one awaiting my arrival so I was unsure if I could just enter without any permission." You quickly spoke when you pulled yourself out of your slightly shocked state. You bowed to express your apology before you straightened again. Your eyes tried to recognize his face yet it was hidden by the shadow of the roof as the moonlight only shone enough to help you identify the rough outline of his body and the dark robe with a pattern you couldn't discern.

He seemed to consider your reply for a while, to gauge your every reaction before you could spot him turning around.

"Don't make me wait again the next time."

Again you were caught off guard by the coldness in his voice but you did not let him wait this time as you picked up his silent command to follow him. You quickly removed your shoes before you went after him. As you had already expected from the looks outside the house, inside was no light on at all. No lanterns, no fire, no nothing. It was even darker than it was outside as the only natural light from the moon could only reach so far inside. As your sight was so greatly restricted, you found your steps being hesitant and slow as if afraid that you would stumble over something otherwise. Even now that you were inside, you could still hear nothing. It was almost as if only Muzan was in here but that wasn't possible. There were the other servants, there were his parents and also the doctor who had recently visited Muzan with the promise of finding a cure to his illness.

Were all of them asleep already?

"I thought I just told you to not make me wait. Is there a reason for you to ignore my words again?"

The clear tinge of displeasure in his voice was palpable to you as he stopped walking for a moment. Your steps came to an abrupt hold too. You were shuffling your feet nervously in an attempt to deal with the tension in the air.

“Muzan…where are the other servants?”

There was no answer. Only the thick silence that made you slowly break out in cold sweat. Had you said something wrong?

“You’re here for me. You’re my maid. What the rest of the servants are up to should be none of your concern.”

You bowed your head when you could now hear the sharp disdain in his tone, the clear annoyance he now felt for your behavior.

“I-I’m sorry. I won’t ask again.”

You kept your head low, didn’t dare to look up. It was only when you heard his footsteps walking again that you looked back up and did your best to follow him. You didn’t want to be scolded again. There were so many questions and worries in your mind yet you had to silence them all.

When Muzan slid open the shoji doors which led to his room, you were right behind him. You could very faintly identify some furniture within the room, even though the lack of any candlelight made you still uneasy.

Both of you stood there, in his room where you had catered to his health for so many nights on end. It was a room more familiar to you than your parent’s house yet you had never felt more uncomfortable than in this moment. You stood silently right behind him, not moving and not speaking until he would do it first.

“Sit down.”

You slowly bent your knees down, your fingers stretching out to feel the floor beneath you so that you wouldn’t accidentally sit on something that was laying on the ground. As soon as you were seated on the floor, you folded your hands politely in your lap. Your eyes kept on glancing at his form briefly before going back to your lap.

“Stay here and wait for me.”

You nodded your head, although you weren’t even sure if he could even see it due to the darkness. You could sense his body passing your own sitting on the ground before he was gone, even his footsteps disappearing after a while. That’s when you let out a deep breath you hadn’t even been aware that you had held in. Your chest felt heavy as you took deep breaths to regulate your beating heart. The pressure and anxiety you had been feeling since he had found you outside had had a bigger toll on you than you had anticipated.

Muzan was your master and you held him dear in your heart but within the confinement of the heavy darkness, you found yourself dreading his return.

It was the beam of light that caught your attention whilst you were sitting and waiting for him. You could see it through the shoji doors as the brightness approached where you were. There was a sense of security washing over you when you saw the light. When the doors were slid open, your surroundings were instantly dipped in the dull yet warm light of the lantern Muzan had brought with him. Relief took hold of you when you could finally see your surroundings better. You wanted to thank Muzan for his consideration but your words got lost in your throat when you were finally able to take your first good look at his face.

He had always been pale as he had been forced to spend most of his days inside, sick and bedridden. Right now, even in the gentle glow of the lantern he was holding up, you could see that his skin was paler than it had ever been before. It almost reminded you of the drained face of a dead person. Only that Muzan didn’t look like he was close to death. The dark rings under his eyes were gone and you were sure that he had gained muscles on what used to be a fragile and ill body.

What caught you by surprise the most were the plum red eyes that were looking at you. Muzan had never had red eyes. His stare was cruel and unforgiving and it matched the cold tone he had used on you ever since you had returned. Those red eyes made your chest tighten, made you hyperaware of every breath you struggled to take in as quietly as possible. Your mind was racing, trying to come up with an explanation of what you were seeing right now.

“You-you look a lot…better.” You spoke with an audible tremble in your voice. You had wanted to say “healthy” at first but this sickly pale skin of his didn’t allow you to do so.

The silence didn’t break with your words as you had hoped. Instead it only increased your uncomfortableness and nervousness as those red eyes appeared to stare straight into your soul. You had to suppress the urge to swallow, his look giving you the impression that by merely opening your mouth you would do something to displease him.

Muzan put the lantern wordlessly down, his gaze focusing on the source of light for a moment before he turned away. He wasn’t looking at you though, his back facing you as he turned into the other direction. You could see how he lifted up one of his hands, curling it into a fist before uncurling it again. He did this multiple times, flexing the muscles on his arm as if needing the reassurance that it was real.

“The medicine worked.”

It should have been a sentence that would bring you joy and relief. Muzan was healed. He would live. Yet why didn’t he sound happy? Why did he sound so angry?

“That’s a good thing… You must be relieved.” You still decided to say, although you made it sound more like a question than a statement.

When he turned his head around and his crushing gaze found yours, you almost felt the weight on your shoulders. Your body sank further down, your shoulders hunched over and your head hanging low as you attempted to make yourself smaller. You should have just stayed quiet after all.

“Relieved?”

Your heart dropped when he closed the distance between you two with a few long strides. Chills erupted all over your skin when icy hands grabbed your face and forced you to look up. So cold. His skin was so cold that it felt like the hands of death were gripping your face tightly. Red eyes were blazing with such anger and frustration, his pupils narrowing into slits as his nails dug into the skin of your face.

“It’s not enough, (y/n). I’m close… So close to becoming the perfect being and yet I’m being it denied. How can I feel relieved when I can’t walk in the sun?”

His glare was scorching and freezing you at the same time as cold sweat started coating your skin. Your breath was shaky, your heartbeat drumming against your rib cage as you squirmed in his hold. You didn’t understand anything that he was saying. It sounded like he had lost it yet there was this twisted anguish on his face that gave you a bad feeling.

“Muzan…You’re hurting me!”

You cried out as your hands started grasping his biceps to pry his hands away from your face. His nails were embedded in your skin and had already created crescent-shaped imprints. The hold he had on you was still tightening as his emotions of anger seemed to overflow. You were afraid that his nails would break through your skin at any moment.

That’s when he suddenly let go of you and pushed you forcefully back. Your body flew backwards before your back made a sudden and forceful impact with the floor beneath you. A pained groan left your lips, your hands grasping the material of the futon that was lying behind you. Your breath left your mouth in stuttering patterns, tears gathering in your eyes as you looked up at Muzan like a scared child.

Your chest tightened and your lips started wobbling. Those plum red eyes were unforgiving and cruel as they scrutinized you without any hint of sympathy.

“What did you do to all the servants and your parents?”

The words had left you before you had been able to even grasp your thoughts. You didn’t even know from where these words had come from. When you felt a knot in your chest though, one consisting of anxiety and fear, you knew from where those words had originated from. It was a bad foreboding that had now manifested as you tried to endure his cruel eyes.

Nothing on his face changed. The cruelty, the coldness, the apathy remained on it as he answered your question.

“I killed them.”

His words were so uncaring, so indifferent that it almost made your heart stop. You couldn’t even begin to phantom how anyone could talk so detached about people who had cared for them their entire lives.

However…if he had killed all of them…Why had he called you here?

You scrambled slowly away from him as if slower movements wouldn’t trigger him to jump on you. Your heart was hurting from its racing speed and your chest felt as if it was made out of stone as every breath you drew in felt difficult.

“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”

Your voice sounded pathetic as you whimpered the accusation. You couldn’t help it though, you were too scared to care about this. At your words, Muzan tilted his head in a dangerous way as if the sound of your soft crying annoyed him.

“Kill you?”

You couldn’t quite tell if the short flicker of pitiful amusement was only an imagination of your hearing or not. Your body started stiffening when he stepped closer to you. Every movement felt heavy as it felt like your limbs had been turned into stone when you shuffled away from him again. Your movements looked clumsy, a strong contrast to his own. There was confidence in every twitch of his muscles, his eyes glowing with a new emotion that you pinpointed down to be anticipation and desire. His gaze was so intense, so thorough that you felt vulnerable and exposed as if those eyes had stripped you completely naked.

When he finally knelt down to your height, your breath got caught in your throat. You could almost feel the inhumane coldness of his skin and as a reaction goosebumps started to appear all over your skin.

Your stomach was twisting and turning with nausea as you saw his eyes traveling over the swell of your breasts and the curves of your body. You felt violated but there was also a steady fear rising inside of you due to the lust you saw in his piercing red orbs.

"I didn't call you here to kill you." He began as one of his hands came up to rest on your hips, his thumb digging into the skin of your pelvis. Your throat closed up when he leaned close, too close for you.

"I want something else from you."

No...

You couldn't stop the salty tears from cascading down your cheeks as you shook your head in useless resistance. Your hands trying to push against his toned chest did nothing as he pushed you down, your body halfway on the futon and halfway on the tatami floor.

"Undress."

He told, no, demanded from you in an authoritarian voice that almost made you want to obey out of fear of what would happen if you wouldn't do as he said. Apparently your hesitation was already enough to anger him as you could see from the way his eyes narrowed as he observed you.

"What's wrong?"

Your mouth was agape as you tried to force anything out of your mouth.

"I-I don't want to do this." You ultimately spoke, honestly expressing your emotions as you started sobbing in silent terror. Your vision was blurry as the tears wouldn't stop.

A short burning flicker of anger you had never seen been directed at you before his cold palm struck you with a strength that made your head nearly collide with the floor. You started crying harder as you felt the hot and pulsing pain on the entire half of your face.

Muzan had just hit you. He had never done this before.

"Have you forgotten that you are my servant? A servant doesn't speak up against their master. Do you understand, (y/n)? Do you understand why I have to punish disobedience?"

You were looking at him with wide eyes. You felt the urge to throw up but you swallowed the acetous bile down your throat as you bit your lips in pain and nodded.

"If you understand, then do as I say."

With the pain still throbbing on the side of your face, your hands shakily peeled off all the layers of your clothing. You could see now that your entire body had started trembling. Fear, shame and humiliation were all mixing together in your core as you could see the greed and the lust in his eyes.

He was now right above you, his long hair touching your face as his hands rested on either side of your head.

"That's better. Now do the same for me."

You had to muffle your cries by biting your lips as you shuffled around to get his robes off of him. Your warm body was forced to touch his cold one as you did so and you didn't know if you were only imagining it but you could have sworn that you could his heartbeat from multiple parts of his body at once. His eyes monitored your shaky hands closely as you slowly pushed his own yukata off of his body. When you saw his already half-erect cock, you had to really suppress the urge to dry heave.

"That wasn't that hard now, was it? That's a good girl."

You flinched when the same hand which had struck you was now caressing your stinging face, the coolness of his skin now almost soothing your burning cheek.

Your hands, still clutching his shed yukata tightly as a way to vent out some of your turbulent emotions slowly pulled back to your own body. Only that they were stopped when Muzan grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

"Your job isn't done yet."

You knew exactly what he meant when you glanced back to his half-hard member. You wanted to cry, to scream to push him away and run but all of those urges were eclipsed by the overwhelming fear his eyes alone spawned inside of you. So you could only continue sobbing silently as you forced your trembling fingers around his cock and started squeezing and rubbing up and down his pale shaft all whilst Muzan was watching you, only adding to your growing shame.

The only thing you were grateful for was that the tears flowing down your face blurred your vision so that you couldn't notice every vein visible on his hardening manhood. You had to really focus on not pulling away the moment you felt the pre-cum on the tip of his penis that was smeared all over his shaft and your palms as you slid your hands steadily and clumsily over his dick. Through your tears you could barely see the way his eyes twitched occasionally, his brows knitting as he forced you to pleasure his cock.

"Stop."

You pulled back almost too fast and for a moment you were worried that you had offended him. When he forced you to spread your legs further apart though, you knew that he had other plans with you now. You could only watch through your tear-stained eyelashes how he positioned yourself and how he took one last anticipating look at your body.

He gave you no warning and no preparation before he brutally entered you dry. You let out a scream as he forced himself with one smack of his hips fully inside of you, your tight walls in searing pain as they struggled to adapt to the rapid intrusion. Your legs were cramping and kicking around, your hands grasped the futon beneath you tightly until your knuckles turned white. You saw black dots dancing across your vision as you could only gasp for breath whilst tasting your own salty tears. The burning pain spread from your lower regions to your stomach, your gut churning around and pushing the acidic bile up your throat again.

You wanted to beg him to pull out or to at least have enough mercy to give your body some time to prepare but the pain cut out your ability to speak as only whimpers could leave your mouth. Perhaps even if you would have begged him, he wouldn't have listened.

"Tell me how much you love me whilst I fuck you into the mattress.”

That is the only warning you got yet your scrambling mind still isn’t prepared when he starts thrusting in and out of you with the same brutal hip movements without giving you any break. You could barely catch a break as he pulled out almost completely until only his tip was kissing your burning hole before thrusting with full force back inside of you until his hips met your own. Your whole body was bouncing with every intense slap of his hips and your sobbing only continued as every intrusion of his cock in your most sacred body part renewed the pain. You could barely process what was happening around you, the pain all-consuming.

Muzan and you were on completely different spectrums of emotions. Every thrust of his body that brought you agony brought him sparking pleasure. Tight. You were so deliciously tight as your warm walls struggled to wrap around his thick girth. He had always known this but now he could really feel that you were a virgin. Untainted, unclaimed and ripe for him to take.

He had always fantasized about what you would feel even when he had been sick and weak. But even his greatest dreams could have never prepared him for the euphoric feeling of plunging inside those plush virgin walls and shaping your insides to take him in perfectly. It was exhilarating. It was euphoric. And it wouldn't be the last time.

You let out a strangled sob when he suddenly grabbed your hips and lifted them up, allowing his dick to disappear even deeper into parts that no one before him had ever had the pleasure of experiencing. He intended to keep it that way.

Sweat and tears were coating your face, your stomach twisting and turning in a nauseating mixture of pain, disgust and the occasional spark of growing pleasure. As hard as you tried, it was impossible to ignore the feeling of his length defiling you and brushing against your seared and sensitive walls.

When he ankled his cock in a particular way, you let out a shriek as the pain abruptly exploded and ripped away at your insides. Your cries rose in volumes in response yet Muzan didn't slow down at all.

You made the mistake of glancing down and when you saw his cock sliding in and out of you, coated in the little bit of slick you had started producing and your own blood, you wanted to throw up. The sight went right through yout intestines and you started heaving. You pressed the back of your hand against your mouth, trying your best to suppress the gagging reflex that threatened to cause you to vomit.

The moment he tore something inside of you and caused you to bleed though, you heard a growl coming from him. You dared to glance up at him and felt your blood freezing. You saw his eyes turning to thin slits as his nostrils flared up as he took in the sweet aroma of your blood. His lips parted as he bared his sharp teeth, his pupils quivering as if he was a wild animal about to devour his prey. His gaze flew down, staring at the part of your body where both of you merged and at the sight of your blood, he could feel his mouth salivating. Even your blood was lovely.

It took some willpower before he was able to tear his gaze away from your bleeding vagina and back to your face. You were a mess. Your face was sticky with hot sweat, tears and snot all running down your face. You looked at him with such despair in your eyes, your mouth trying to form words but unable to let out anything else besides sobs that probably would have broken the heart of everyone else. But Muzan wasn't everyone else.

His head was suddenly pressed against your neck, taking in deep breaths as he could hear and feel your racing pulse against his cold lips and the flowing blood right beneath your skin.

When one of his hands roughly seized your shoulder to stop you from squirming so much and you could already feel his tongue drawing over your skin as if searching for a good spot to start, your trembles intensified. Yet you knew that you could do nothing as you felt another additional pain when sharp teeth bit into your flesh and you could feel the vibrations of a growling moan of pleasure resonating somewhere from deep within his chest.

Your sweet blood melted on his tongue as he dug his tongue into the wound, greedy for more of it. It was a delicate and flavourful taste, far better than any of the flesh he had tasted from his parents and all the other servants.

You were shaking, heaving, sobbing as everything became too much for you and all the different sensations overwhelmed you and slaughtered your coherent thoughts and senses. The searing pain between your legs, your guts clenching around whatever food was still being digested inside of you, your body heaving the acidic taste up to the back of your throat only for you to swallow it constantly down again, the skin of your face tingling with all the salty tears streaming down, the burning sting of the bites Muzan placed all over your shoulders and chest, the multiple heartbeats you could feel through his cold skin as he pressed you beneath his body further into his futon and somewhere in between all of that the dull knot of pleasure somewhere else in your body.

All of it melted together into one giant blop of sensations that blackened your vision and made your ears ring. Everything felt overwhelming to in one moment and then dull and distant in the next moment as your brain started shutting down.

You wanted to embrace that pitch-black nothingness, you could almost grasp it...

Then something tore through all of your senses like a tsunami with such an intensity that for a few seconds you were wide awake. Your eyes flew open, your whole body was trembling with spasms and you opened your mouth to let out a high-pitched scream as it came over you and held you in its hold for a few seconds. You felt your walls clamping down around Muzan's length and somewhere within the depth of your mind you finally understood that you were having an orgasm as your vision was overwritten by pure white for a few fleeting moments before it all stopped as abruptly as it had come and your body fell limply back onto the futon.

You could still feel Muzan snapping his pelvis against your own, his speed increasing as he could feel your own body coming around his cock before with one last grunt he pressed himself as deeply inside of your bleeding warmth as possible as he reached his own orgasm. You could faintly feel thick spurts of cum staining your insides as he kept on grinding his pelvis against yours for a few seconds to fully ride his orgasm out before he stopped.

You didn't know what he was planning to do now and you didn't care anymore either. All you cared about were those dark spots taking over your vision, promising you temporary release from all of this.

"You haven't told me yet."

Through your slowly darkening vision, you could make out his face. There was a frown on his face that expressed his mild annoyance but for whatever reason he didn't seem as mad as he had been before. Perhaps because he had released all pent-up emotions on you.

Your mind was working very slowly as you tried to understand what he meant. What did he want you to say?

"Tell me that you love me." He repeated for you and you could faintly recall that he had said that before he had raped you and abused you. You stared at him as your mind started drifting away, his face slowly vanishing until only those red eyes remained that seemed to find you even in this darkness. You could only feel it from far away when he started thrusting inside of you again, not done with you yet.

"I love you. More than anyone else." Was the only coherent thing you were able to conjure up before your consciousness was swallowed by the dark nothingness where even those haunting red eyes couldn't reach you...

---

Your head was propped up by him with one arm as the other one gently pushed a cup of water through your lips and teeth, forcing the cooling liquid down your dry and burning throat. You looked for the first time on that night peaceful within the depths of unconsciousness where he couldn't reach you yet. A part of the demon didn't want you to have this rest. He wanted to force you to say his name over and over again and have you screaming that you belonged to him whilst cumming around his dick yet he had to remain himself that you were only a human. Weak and limited.

He had been like that not too long ago too, only that he had been even weaker than you had been. His entire life had been nothing but a pathetic fight against death and his own useless body. Now that Muzan had been stripped off his humanity and mortality though, he felt a confidence and strength that he had never been able to experience before.

As he gazed at your sleeping face, he couldn't help but reminisce about how long he had been longing for you already yet had been tied down by his own sick body. He had always wanted to ask for you to marry him yet he had been far too ashamed of his own pathetic condition to do so. So when he had been told that he wouldn't even live longer than twenty years, the desperation had crushed him as he had realized something.

That you would never be his. That you would move on after his death, marry a healthy and strong man, bear his children and eventually completely forget about him. He hadn't even been able to look at you after the visit from the doctor without imagining it. How dare you being able to forget about him? Bitterness had tarnished him and had turned his love for you partially into hatred as he had started harboring a resentment against you and your kind words tainted in pity for his health. Every gaze and every action from your side had felt like an insult to him as he had grown to fully despise how you had secretly looked down on him for his inevitable death. It had always felt wrong.

Now everything was right though. Now everything was finally as it should have been from the start.

He took notice of the way you started shuddering when he wrapped his arms around you, his body not providing any warmth for you. He narrowed his eyes, contemplating something before he grabbed the blanket that was lying on the end of the futon before wrapping it around you, giving you the warmth you were seeking for subconsciously. Then he wrapped his arms around you again, hoping that the blanket would shield you from his cold skin. He pressed his face against the back of your neck, taking deep breaths of the stenching smell of blood, sweat, tears and sex clinging to your skin.

He would have to keep you inside the house as soon as the sun would rise but it was very unlikely that you would be able to move your body around in the first place after he had finally claimed you.

He finally had you. The only thing that was missing now was the Blue Spider Lily...

#yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere kny #yandere demon slayer #yandere muzan #yandere kibutsuji muzan #yandere x reader #muzan x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader

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kazumist · 3 months

Text

EYES SET ON YOU .ᐟ

✩ — xiao realizes that his eyes were set on you the whole time. if it was since you made your entrance to the party or if it was since you met fifteen years ago, he doesn't really know.

✩ — prompt: felicity – the most chased after of the season asks you for a dance. (another entry for @xianyoon's event yayyyy)

✩ — includes: xiao x f!reader. fluff. cw: alcohol consumption (again,, it never gets old with me sawry) but there's only like two details about it, ooc!xiao pls i have no idea if i wrote him well during the second half. wc: 4164. kuni is reader's twin so you're technically the daughter of ei in this. some liyue and inazuma characters mentioned kinda. slight dual pov?? i guess ... yeah that's pretty much it. no beta i die like xiao almost did during the perilous trail quest tbh !!!

a prince should be confident, courageous, sophisticated, and dignified.

prince xiao checks out on most of those things. if anything, the townspeople in the kingdom of liyue take pride in their beloved prince. king zhongli is proud of his son as well as his older sister, princess ganyu. however, out of all the four traits stated above, there’s only one that prince xiao doesn’t count himself in: confidence. he isn’t referring to confidence when it comes to his abilities; heavens no, prince xiao knows and is proud of his capabilities (although not verbally; he had always been the reserved type of man even when he was a child) in terms of strength and wit. it’s more like the crowned prince of liyue doubts his abilities in terms of being sociable. having connections is a crucial thing for a man like him who’s currently in line for the throne after his father, as these connections could aid him when he takes king zhongli’s place one day.

marriage, of course, was an inevitable thing. it’s a requirement, a demand that needs to be fulfilled, whether one likes it or not. king zhongli pities his son that he couldn’t escape from this predicament, but the king just assures his son that he should marry someone that he loves. having a loveless marriage has more cons than pros anyway. he wants his son to be happy, this is the least he could do for him.

…as well as the ball that he held in hopes of his son meeting someone of his interest.

it has been a short while since the ball started. many of the young women around xiao’s age had decided to make their move, yet all were fruitless attempts as xiao had already turned them down. they’d put on a forced smile, walking away but as soon as the prince’s back faces them, you could see their grip getting tighter around the fan in their hand if you squinted. xiao retreats back to his father's side, sighing in exhaustion. his social energy wasn’t really made for posh events like these. he looks at the crowd below, catching a glimpse of his sister talking to her friends and entertaining other guests. (xiao had wondered at some point why he was in line for the throne rather than his older sister, who is more capable of ruling than he is, but he soon realizes that it is how the royal hierarchy works.)

his eyes shifts themselves towards the entrance. he’s not surprised that people are still arriving at this hour because, as far as xiao could recall, his father had invited a few other kingdoms to this ball as well. yet xiao could vividly feel his eyes widen as he saw a familiar face that had made it’s entrance—yours.

and all of a sudden, xiao suddenly finds himself being seven years old all over again.

— — — — — — — —

the young boy hid behind his father, his head peeking out ever so slightly as he eyed the child in front of him. it was a young girl who looked just around the same age as him. she was rather coy as well, as she clung to her mother’s hand. xiao looked at the child’s mother. he had heard of her before, of course. queen ei of inazuma—his father told him that she would be visiting today along with his daughter and son. though he doesn’t really see the son present at the moment. perhaps he didn’t join?

“my apologies for being a tad bit late, king zhongli. kunikuzushi really didn’t want to accompany us.” he heard queen ei sighed. well, that answers one of his questions, at least. king zhongli laughs at her words, “it’s quite alright. there are times when children could get rebellious against their own parents.”

“rebellious? i prefer to call it disobedient.”

his father chuckles again before reaching a hand behind him, patting the seven year old xiao on the head. “xiao, i would like you to meet (name). she’s queen ei’s daughter and is just the same age as you.” he gently says. zhongli knows that his son is not particularly fond of socializing, but he tries to get him out of his shell bit by bit. xiao steadily steps out, slowly stepping forward in front of his father. “(name), i’d like you to meet xiao. i told you that you’d be meeting him today, didn’t i?” queen ei softly says to her daughter. the child silently nods and lets go of her mother’s hands. she approached the young boy, lending out her hand for him to shake.

she stuttered in her words, clearly nervous. “i-i’m (name).” xiao reaches out and receives her hand, saying his name in return as he lets go. “well then xiao, why don’t you take (name) to the castle garden for the meantime? me and her mother are just going to have an important chat.” xiao heard his father. he nods in acknowledgement, and this time it was his turn to reach out his hand for the girl to take. (name) looks back to her mother for approval, eyes asking for permission to allow her to join xiao. “you can go; i’ll come and pick you up as soon as we’re finished.” she says, giving her daughter a little head pat.

hand in hand, xiao led her to the castle’s garden, where the gardeners planted all sorts of beautiful flowers located in liyue. xiao immediately leads the girl to where the qingxin flowers are located. but he doesn’t say anything when they get there—he doesn’t know what to say. should he state how this is actually his favorite flower? but he thinks that boys having favorite flowers isn’t allowed. should he say that this flower reminded him of her? the white flowers swayed against the light breeze in front of them.

“this… this is called a qingxin flower.” he starts. he doesn’t really know what he should say. might as well start with telling you what this flower is, right? “it’s pretty..” you say, admiring it. a fresh and minty scent wafts over your sense of smell. you’re pretty, xiao thinks. but he swallows his words instead and blushes at the thought. but it’s true, you are pretty. you had that small sparkle in your eyes that xiao finds himself captivated by.

your time continued on with you and xiao admiring other flowers such as glaze lilies and silk flowers until your mother and king zhongli entered the castle garden, a sign that their important chat is now over—and that (name) needs to head home. she bids xiao farewell with a small wave and a smile, while her other hand has a qingxin flower in her hold (xiao gave it to her as a little souvenir) and xiao finds himself doing the same. there were no actual goodbyes said, as they both silently hoped that they would cross paths once more.

— — — — — — — —

the flashback ends when he hears your name being announced. the crowd below him whispered, as your family had already caught the attention of the ton. well, no one could really blame them. xiao noticed numerous things already. your hair had grown much longer, you had grown in terms of height too, and your strides as you made your entrance had confidence in them. this time, xiao noticed how much you took after your mother in terms of aura. queen ei, who’s aging like quite the fine wine, leads you and your brother, kunikuzushi, as you continue walking inside.

it has been fifteen years since xiao last saw you; your last meeting with each other was when they visited—the day you met. of course, you weren’t the little (name) that he met when he was seven anymore. even your brother had taken in some changes, xiao notices. he had spent a fair amount of time with your brother when he went abroad to study and train at the age of eight. this is also a reason why xiao didn’t really have the chance to meet each other again. kunikuzushi had a stern look on his face, while you had a calm one.

king zhongli smiles at the sight of the royal family of inazuma making their entrance. it has been a while since he and queen ei met, as their busy lives as rulers of each of their respective kingdoms are quite demanding. “why don’t you go down and greet them on my behalf?” zhongli muses. xiao simply nods at him, making his way towards kunikuzushi first—after all, he knows him more than he knows you.

“kuni.” he greets his old friend as he approaches the two of you. their mother had her on business to take care of, he supposes, as he takes notice of her sudden absence by her children’s side. “ah, alatus. it’s a pleasure to see you again.” he says. you looked at him in confusion and said, "i’m surprised you’re friendly with other people, brother.” kunikuzushi looked at you, offended by your remark. “sister, what do you simply take me as?” he replies with a forced smile since they were in public at the moment. you ignored your brother, doing a curtsy as you greeted xiao. “it’s wonderful to see you again, prince alatus.” she says.

again? so you remember that time too. “again? since when the hell did you two meet?” kunikuzushi asked. “around fifteen years ago, when mother visited the kingdom of liyue to discuss something important with king zhongli. you were throwing a random tantrum that day and didn’t want to accompany us. also do mind your words, brother. we’re in public for goodness sake," you replied, scolding kunikuzushi.

“and you don’t really need to point out how i had a tantrum back then. i was seven!”

“we were both seven, if i may remind you.”

xiao watches the twins interact with each other. it was different from how he and his older sister would interact. but nonetheless, xiao is somewhat glad that there’s someone in kunikuzushi’s life who could match him in verbal terms. “whatever, how are you faring as of late, alatus?” his friend shifts the topic, giving you an eyeroll, to which you return with a slight jab to his side. xiao then grabs a drink from a refreshment table nearby, taking a slight sip. the taste of alcohol makes contact with his taste buds as he slightly smacks his lips after. “i’ve been...” he trails off. how has he been lately? xiao doesn’t recall. he’s been busy with all of these ball preparations and the mental preparation he needs to take when he is to be married.

“well. i’ve been quite well.” he finishes. “i’m glad to hear that. i heard you’re looking for a bride this season?” kunikuzushi then asks. “ah, yes. my father thinks it’s about time i start to settle down.”

“what’s the rush? we’re only at the age of twenty and two.”

“he isn’t pressuring me to get myself married away, kuni. but he wants me to start looking now, hence why this ball was held.” xiao sighs. kunikuzushi looks at his friend in pity; well, he isn’t any different. marriage has seemed to be a recent topic as well for queen ei and her son. “excuse me, gentlemen, as i see a friend quite close. i wish the best for you, prince alatus. and brother, watch your behavior, will you?” you then said, stepping away. “hey, what do you—” the other sibling swallowed his words back down his throat, not wanting to suddenly raise his voice.

“god, what does she take me for?”

“someone not trustworthy enough to be left alone, as it seems.”

“shut it, alatus.”

— — — — — — — —

alatus then encounters you again.

you were alone this time. and xiao had just escaped the horrific clutches of mothers showing off their daughters to him. “it’s nice to see you again.” xiao then greets you, taking the spot beside you. “mhm, same to you.” the silence wasn’t awkward—it was rather serene. both of you stood there, hiding away from the crowd. perhaps you weren’t someone who finds socializing all fun, preferring to be in your own little bubble instead. or perhaps you were also hiding yourself from the other nobles that have attempted to make a move on you.

“what brings you into a corner like this?” he decided to ask.

“oh, it’s... you know, not every noble is necessarily a pleasure to be in the company of, if you get what i mean.” you replied, choosing your words rather carefully.

in your peripheral vision, you see xiao then nod in agreement. so my second guess was right, he thinks. “honestly speaking, i promised my mother that i’d dance with at least one noble tonight. she wants me to step out of my shell, per se, since whenever i accompany her to balls like this, i usually just glue myself to her side.”

“at least you find yourself accompanying your mother either way. i don’t really escort my father a lot.”

“really? and didn’t you make your debut when you were just eighteen? that’s around four years ago already. “didn’t you make your debut at the same age? we’re simply allies in this boat, princess.” xiao then shoots back. you went blank for a moment, processing what he had called you. well, you were a princess. he wasn’t wrong about it, but why did it sound... something different when it rolled off his tongue? “touché.”

maybe it was the alcohol that he consumed taking it’s effect on him, as xiao felt rather bold now, making a smooth step to stand in front of you. he wasn’t that drunk, but maybe it’s some sort of liquid courage. “well, if you promised your mother for her to be an audience of you dancing with a noble...” he reaches out a hand towards you. the sight is familiar—and this is when you started to realize that a lot of things have changed between you and alatus over the past fifteen years. “may i have the pleasure of being your dance partner tonight?”

you take his hand. “you may.”

widening eyes and hushed gasps weren’t everything you noticed as you and xiao casually made your way to the dance floor. kunikuzushi had his eyebrow immediately raised as he watched your arm linked with xiao’s walking together, pausing himself as he was about to take a sip from his drink in hand. “well, would you look at that?” king zhongli hums in amusement from above, queen ei turning her head to see what he’s looking at.

“my, well, i certainly knew she had taken a liking to your son when they were children, but i didn’t expect it to continue into adulthood.” the queen says.

a new song had just started as xiao took the lead. they swayed—to the left, to the right, forward, and around. with one hand holding yours and the other on your waist, he twirls you around. he then catches you in his hold once more, pulling you close. close enough to hear your steady breathing, close enough to admire your face, and close enough to get himself lost in your eyes.

the close proximity aided you in observing just how much had changed with xiao over the past fifteen years. he had grown taller; that is obviously for one. he wasn’t that shy anymore, as he is now rather demure. his eyes still fascinated you with their unique shade of yellow, as his pupils were sharp—it reminded you of a cat’s. his hair had a few highlights of a lighter shade of green, in contrast to his main hair color.

you then realize that everything has changed.

the scowling of both men and women envied the two individuals dancing in the center. after all, they technically lost. the other women had lost to the princess of inazuma and the other men had lost to the prince of liyue—they wouldn’t dare to even come between them. because as much as they would hate to admit it, both of you were a perfect match. you complement each other well.

then, something xiao had been concerned about for some time happened: the part where he would have to lift her up. it may have been the proximity, the intimacy, or just the fear of letting her fall because it would be difficult for her to stay upright in such heels if his hand slipped. the lady gave a little yelp and fell back to the ground, thankfully without breaking a bone, but there was no time to consider anything more despite the slow music. xiao raised her up with an erratic act of trust.

“what a strong gentleman you are.” you whispered in his ear, commending him for the successful dance move. all eyes were on you now, as everyone was too hooked onto your performance. it was alluring—you were alluring, xiao thinks. the dance then comes to an end as you bow to each other as a sign of respect. he guided you away, and you quickly sneaked in a kiss to his cheek when no one was looking, not even xiao. his eyes widened as he felt your lips come into contact with his cheek. he then raises his hand to feel the spot your lips landed on.

xiao feels something in his chest, something rather warm.

— — — — — — — —

after all this time, xiao is still not the one for long conversations. he prefers to indulge in a comfortable silence rather than spend his time in a bustling crowd. so naturally, xiao finds his way into the castle’s garden. he can’t really withdraw from the party; the season has just begun. maybe give him a good two or three more parties and maybe xiao could find a way out to leave early. his cheeks are greeted by the cold and gentle breeze of the night as he steps foot into the garden.

fifteen years is enough time for one to mature and grow up. you and xiao are aware of the dark side that society holds. but one thing hasn’t really changed: his love for qingxin flowers. xiao learned as he grew up. it’s that boys are actually allowed to have favorite flowers. (could you really blame him for thinking otherwise? he was just seven.) making his way to where the qingxin flowers are, he stopped in his tracks as he noticed that he wasn’t apparently alone in the area.

the lightly dimmed lights that surrounded the garden are what helped xiao see that it was you who was standing there, admiring the qingxin flowers. you seemed to have sensed that someone was behind you, turning around to see who it was, and much to your relief, it was xiao. “prince alatus.” you greeted him again with a curtsy. “princess (name).” he greeted in return with a bow and walked closer to stand beside you.

“it feels nostalgic to be here again.” you said. xiao stays silent, preferring to listen. “do you remember? you bought me here when we were seven. i remember myself being very shy back then.” you continued, laughing as the memory replays in your head. xiao tries to construct a reply. “mhm, do you know what a qingxin flower symbolizes?” he then asks. “not really. what is it?”

“affection and happiness.” xiao softly smiles. it was just a small one, as he reached out his hand to touch the flower before him. you glance at him, admiring the look on his face.

and suddenly, you found yourself being seven years old again.

— — — — — — — —

she was nervous. very nervous. as far as she could recall, this was her first time meeting someone outside of their kingdom. she really, really wants to be friends with this xiao boy—she’s heard a few from her mother. so she doesn’t really want to mess up, but she doesn’t even know how to approach him!

as soon as they arrived, she first looked at the tall man in front of them. that should be… king zhongli! she thought that his description fit the one that her mother gave her when she described him. but she looks at her surroundings for xiao. she doesn’t really know what he looks like, since her mother only told her that they’re of the same age and that he’s a nice kid. but she soon notices something behind king zhongli—something dark green? she watched him as he peeked his head out from behind his father and joy washed over her. he’s here! she thought.

although her expressions don’t really show it, she was overjoyed when she realized that she wasn’t alone. perhaps it’s a common feeling amongst children whenever they encounter someone their age, there’s a familiar force that pushes them to befriend that person. she was no different from that, of course, as this is how she feels towards the boy in front of her now.

after they had been introduced, xiao was holding her hand and directing her to their garden. she took in everything she saw as they walked past, including paintings, decorations, and other things on display. they stopped in front of a small field of pretty white flowers. “this… this is a qingxin flower.” she hears the boy beside her say. a qingxin flower? that’s a bit hard to pronounce… she thinks. as she leans closer to inspect the flower further, it’s minty scent meets her sense of smell. “it’s pretty…” she lets out.

xiao picks one qingxin flower; there’s apparently four on one stem. xiao then takes a flower from those four. she silently watches him, wondering what he’s going to do with it. as xiao stepped closer, she held her breath. she feels the familiar feeling of a flower being tucked behind her ear. she reaches out one hand to touch it. “m-my dad always told me to be nice to girls. but i don’t really know how but i hope that’s okay.” xiao then says, looking away as she giggles at the sight of his ears turning red.

“thank you, xiao!”

while she was on the way home with her mother, she had a huge smile on her face as she gently caressed the qingxin flower’s petals with her fingers. “did you have fun with xiao today, honey?” her mother asks. “mhm! he gave me this flower; isn’t it pretty, mommy?” she exclaims. the little girl then tells her mother about what happened while they were in the garden. queen ei smiles to herself at the sight of her daughter being enthusiastic about her interactions with prince xiao.

— — — — — — — —

deja vu seemed to take over as you saw xiao pick a qingxin flower. even more when you watch him take another flower from the four. you were replaying the memory of the day you met inside your head but surely you’re back in reality, right?

you breath hitched when xiao stepped closer, tucking it behind your ear again.

“are you perhaps taking me on a trip to memory lane tonight?” you chuckled. xiao simply smiles in return as he steps back. maybe, he swallows the response down his throat. “i realized something tonight.” he then says. “hm? and what might that be?”

xiao was never the type who would say a lot of things. he usually kept his thoughts to himself, hiding them in the back of his mind and dismissing it right away. but for once, he finds himself rambling. “that despite the fact i’m rather modest or demure and the fact that i’m not really an individual who is up for long conversations, i find myself enjoying sharing a silence that’s covered in tranquility. i am a mundane man, (name), yet in spite of that, i can’t help but yearn for an individual like you to accompany me for the rest of my life.” surprised at him for dropping the formalities, you still listened.

“i—forget that. my apologies. i doubt there is anyone who could compare for a woman like yourself in the first place. we aren’t the same seven year olds that spent their afternoon in this exact garden anymore. a lot—if not everything—has changed between us. so let me be selfish for once: would you accept my invitation for a mundane life? you don’t have to feel obligated to give a response now.” you took another qingxin flower from its stem; only two remain now. it was your turn to step closer.

“i won’t give my answer now, xiao.” you start, dropping the formalities with him as well. “this is all rather shocking, after all, but promise this: once summer comes around, there will be a summer festival held inazuma as it does every year. can you promise me your attendance? the sight of the fireworks prepared by the naganohara family is certainly one to commend.”

“i promise.”

xiao then realizes that he had his eyes set on you this whole time—whether the past fifteen years are counted or not, that’s for him to keep.

#( writings )#astronetwrk #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #xiao x reader #xiao genshin impact #alatus x reader #xiao #x reader #kinda messy if you ask me #the pacing and development are all over the place #im like. a good 30% proud of it while the other 70% is me thinking i could do better #(i really could)

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 1 year

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Imagine there is a god who been asleep as many fear them, till they have forgotten about them, and the moment Ragnarok have started Zeus, Odin, and Shiva feels their presence and it's the physical primordial of primary fear

And they are fighting for humanity survival, as their physical appearance is the every common thing that many fear to a body of a pale white human body who is both beautiful and terrifying

-The day had finally arrived, Ragnarok, the fighters on both sides were ready, ready to fight for their entertainment and their survival, unaware that a long-forgotten storm was about to return.

-The different fighters for both sides were announced, giving the audience a glimpse of the impending fights, all warriors in the center of the ring, sizing each other up, as they didn’t know who was going to fight each other just yet.

-This gave a chance for opponents to see who they could challenge, and in turn, tell the organizers who they wanted to fight against.

-Brunnhilde and Zeus met in the center, going over the rules for the matches, so there would be a fair fight, including weapons and the assistance from the valkyries, to give humans a fighting chance.

-A low rumble then shook the arena, starting off small before growing to a full-blown earthquake, causing screams to echo through the arena, even the gods were shouting, demanding an explanation.

-A rush of power ran through the arena and Zeus, Odin, Hades, and Shiva all froze, turning and looking around as an icy cold aura seemed to fill the arena, one that everyone could feel.

-Many felt chills of fear running down their spines before an icy hold took over the arena, as if a snowstorm arrived. Goll’s teeth were chattering, “What’s going on?”

-Zeus swallowed hard, looking terrified, “Y/N…” confusion filled the arena as many looked at him and Shiva turned, “Parvati- take Ganesha and the others and get out of here- now!”

-Odin then spoke, his voice echoing, “Warriors- humans and gods- prepare yourselves. We may be facing the only person who could destroy Valhalla!”

-Brunnhilde summoned her sisters, preparing to fight alongside the warriors and they were quick to answer.

-Goll then spoke, clinging to Brunnhilde, “What’s happening? Who is Y/N?” Odin, who came to stand beside the two valkyries, answered, “An ancient deity of winter, the first winter deity. Y/N is the reason that the Ice Age caused by the meteorite that killed the dinosaurs didn’t destroy both earth and Valhalla. They pulled the rampaging storm, the cold, ice, and snow, into their body, at the cost of putting them in a sleep for centuries, as it was too much for Y/N to handle.”

-Goll panicked, knowing of the event, holding onto Odin’s robe, “Now Y/N’s awake?!” He nodded, not looking at her, “There is no other explanation to this power we all feel.”

-The warriors prepared themselves, preparing to fight as a figure moved through the icy mist into the arena, slowly revealing you, pure white hair and skin, looking like you were made of ice and snow yourself, stunningly beautiful, and your eyes glowing an icy white, your breathing harsh and ragged.

-Your mouth opened as another wave of energy rushed from you, chilling all of them to the bone as slowly rising scream escaped your lips, one that sounded so pained, like you were in agony.

-Odin’s eye widened before narrowing, “The power is still too much for them!” your eyes closed and then snapped open, ice appearing at your feet, as you were completely bare, but unbothered by your nakedness, as the ice encased the ground of the arena.

-People were screaming in fear, begging to be saved, but Zeus held out his arms to the side, “Don’t do anything! Y/N may not attack us if we don’t attack first.”

-Shiva glared, punching his fists together, “So what we just wait for them to attack us first?” Zeus turned with a slight glare, “You’re one of the few that know just how powerful Y/N is. You know we can’t risk this.” Shiva’s jaw clenched, knowing it was true.

-Your movements were stiff and achy, your back hunched, posture awful from being asleep for so long, the power making you lose control of your body.

-Another rush of energy escaped you with another pained scream before you collapsed to your knees, steam rising from your body as you panted heavily, your eyes slowly returning to normal as you slowly made your power, the power of the Ice Age, submit to your whim.

-Everyone remained still, waiting on bated breath, afraid of something happening before one human, Sasaki Kojiro, ran towards you, pulling off his red haori and quickly kneeled wrapping it around you, as you were completely bare.

-The gods flinched, terrified this human just offended you, but he just smiled, “There- now you’re at least covered.” You lifted a hand to his cheek, and he found you like ice as you gave him a soft smile, “Thank you human.”

-Seeing you calm and not at all hostile, the strongest of the gods, who knew you, instantly exhaled in relief, as they knew, sensing the power in your body, that they would be no match for you, even working together.

-You stood as the others approached, Zeus looking nervous as you looked down at him, reaching out to cup his cheeks, “Zeus?” he nodded, looking hopefully that you wouldn’t be mad, as he was the one who didn’t control the meteor and underestimated the power behind the Ice Age, which led to your unending nap.

-Moments later he was shouting, “Ow-ow-ow!! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!!” you were pinching and pulling his cheeks, scolding him, “What were you thinking doing something so reckless?!”

-After you let him go, you turned and instantly Odin, Hades, and Shiva covered their cheeks with their hands, making you smile before you looked around, seeing the humans and the gods together, “What is all this?”

-Everyone was hesitant on telling you, as you were always soft on humans, as you knew they were stronger than the gods believed, and the gods knew that if you found out what they had planned to do, you would be pissed.

-Zeus then popped up, his cheeks red and swollen, “We were having a fighting tournament to celebrate the relationship between gods and humanity!”

-Everyone froze, panicking that this wasn’t going to work, as Brunnhilde told the humans to go along, as there would be no way for them to fight you and you smiled, “I apologize for interrupting then.”

-Everyone waved off your apology, telling you they could clean up and have the tournament another day, as all the gods instantly agreed, silently, that they couldn’t go through with the tournament and they needed to quickly fix the mess that they caused, not wanting to incur your wrath.

-Everyone had to be careful in the coming days as you got used to life in Valhalla again, not wanting to piss you off, they didn’t want to risk their lives and homes, and keeping you happy was their most important mission.

-However, thanks to Kojiro and several other humans that you got to know, this was easy, as you loved to hear about their lives, hearing about their battles and how they survived, it proved you right, that humans were stronger than anyone expected.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror hades #ror zeus #ror odin #ror shiva

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chuckeroo777 · 1 month

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Laios got Eaten AU Chapters 53-85

Chapters 1-52 <- Be sure to read part 1. Falin being alive does cause some ripple effects which will continue in this part.

Welcome back! Today we continue where the anime cut off. We'll be going all the way to right before the final confrontation. (Mainly because I haven't figured out how to resolve that yet. I might do two versions, a good end, and a bad end.)

Let's get going! Massive spoiler warning for canon, if it wasn't obvious.

Chapter 53-54:

Same as canon.

Chapter 55:

Everything is mostly the same except Laios shows up instead of Falin. When escaping, Laios is much less gentle with Thistle.

Falin gets turned into a gnome by the giant changling. She is quite smitten by ogre Marcille, though she tries to hide it.

While Seshi and Chilchuck prepare the burgers, Falin assists with the ointment. With her healing expertise, it turns out even better, and she prevents Senshi from using it to cook.

Chapter 56:

Chilchuck has been noticeably grumpier than usual. Not only has Marcille been bugging him about his wife, but the tension between Marcille and Falin is really getting on his nerves. As before, he claims to have cheated to shut her up.

They spot the bicorn and Falin looks it up in the guide. They come up with the plan to be sinful.

When doing envy, Marcille can't help but be annoyed how Chilchuck has been giving her and Falin such judgemental looks, but then he goes and flirts with Senshi.

Without Laios, greed is a little tricky. Falin yoinks Ambrosia, and plays keep-away for a bit. She's giggling so much, she nearly forgets about the bicorn.

Then Lust gets brought up. Chilchuck and Izutsumi stare at Falin and Marcille, but before they can defend themselves, Senshi points out that it isn't lust when it's between two people who respect each other. Marcille then tentatively suggests that maybe Chilchuck's infidelity counts.

After Chilchuck gets attacked, Falin and Senshi rush into action. Falin can't body check it, but a mace to the face has the same effect. They manage to restrain it, then Senshi beheads it.

Falin is very impressed by Marcille's romantic acumen. Chilchuck is mostly left wondering why the romance expert is having such trouble admitting her feelings.

Chapter 57:

The dullahan is a type of ghost, so Falin has no trouble warding it off.

Much to Marcille's chagrin, Senshi decides to start with the head, since those parts don't preserve as well as the muscle.

Chapter 58-59:

When Senshi is discovered, it's Chilchuck who fills the party in about succubi. Unlike Laios, Falin doesn't rush off to grab milk, but she does start sweating profusely.

Thanks to there being three of them conscious in the room, they last a bit longer against the succubi, but when a succubus appears targeting Falin, things quickly break down.

Falin's succubus... is Marcille. But not merely Marcille. Due to a rather lonely childhood, Falin has a few fetishes she had been repressing. The succubus reflecting them for all to see. If she hadn't had her life force drained, she would probably have fainted from the shame and embarrassment.

Izutsumi saves the day, and everyone slowly recovers.

Marcille and Falin are mortified, and can barely even look at each other. Chilchuck finally reaches his breaking point and demands that the two of them talk about their feelings instead of continuing to bottle them up.

They end up having a heartwarming conversation where they confess their feelings. Marcille confesses that she always felt caring and protective of Falin, but the strangely fluctuating age gap made her way too uncomfortable to admit she was developing romantic feelings. But now that they are both adults, she wants to give this a try. Falin confesses that she always admired Marcille and wanted to get closer, but Marcille kept (unintentionally) rejecting her advances, so she just assumed she wasn't into her, which is why she stopped trying. Falin is so glad she was wrong. The two share a loving hug.

Chilchuck is happy for them to finally have these feelings out in the open, and they don't seem to be the sort that used to cause issues in his old groups. However, as the resident dad, he puts his foot down and insists that until this adventure is over, no sleeping together.

Speaking of sleeping together, that reminds Marcille of the dream she had while unconscious.

Chapter 60:

Marcille's dream with the Lion is similar to Laios', but with a few key differences.

Instead of appealing to Laios' care for the monsters and environment, the lion talks about how it IS the power of the dungeon. The power that the ancients discovered and misused. The very power that Marcille has desperately been looking for.

This is all very tempting for her, but she's still uncertain about becoming queen of the golden country, so the lion creates the hypothetical dream.

Marcille 'wakes' to find herself in bed with Falin. After changing out of their pajamas, they explore with the lion. Marcille's kingdom is a place where all the races are treated equally, with magic prolonging their lives to match hers.

She has also incorporated her ideas about a 'safe dungeon', expanding on the golden country's monster domestication to allow the harvesting of all sorts of useful things. Laios is in charge of this program.

Overall, it's all very nice and reasonable. As the audience, we know the lion will actually convince her to try and envelop the world, but for now the scope is realistic.

Marcille doesn't remember most of the dream, but relates that the lion is watching them through Falin's pearlipede. She talks a little about the 'safe dungeon' stuff, but keeps the whole age equalization thing close to her chest. And of course, beware the canaries.

Chapter 61:

Mostly the same, though Kabru's reaction to having to eat monsters is a little less severe. He hates it, but Falin and her group seemed sane enough. He isn't worried about going insane like Laios, he's just severely repulsed by it.

Kabru's nightmare is about the Laigon, stalking and hunting him down before eating him whole. Somehow, despite the massive changes, Kabru still manages to be disgusted yet intrigued about Laios.

Chapter 62:

The first half is identical, with Mithrun's story.

But when they start talking about Falin, that's when they get a bit confused. Despite Kabu's skill, he couldn't get a good read on Falin's desires. She is friendly and kind and thinks monsters are neat, but he's really unsure what would happen if she became lord of the dungeon. The only strong desire Kabru could identify was her unyielding determination to save her brother.

Mithrun begins to suspect that Falin isn't the one the demon is targeting, but unfortunately, Kabru doesn't know enough about the rest of the party to deduce who it could be.

Once the bell goes off, Kabru isn't worried about Falin, but with the demon involved, and so many unknown variables, he decides to go after them.

Chapter 63:

Falin's pearlipede leads them to Thistle's house, and they cautiously make their way in after shooting the bird.

The phoenix proves difficult, but Falin's flame wards buy them enough time to realize it's keeping its distance from the table with the bodies. They manage to weaponize Yaad and defeat and eat the bird.

Chapter 64-65:

Marcille wrenches open the book and they meet the lion. They begin thinking of a way to take down the Laigon.

Falin points out that if the Laigon is hanging out with Thistle, then it hasn't been sleeping or hunting, so her brother is probably really hungry. Senshi points out that flight is very energetically demanding too, and his mouth is real small.

They quickly get to work. The rest of this chapter and chapter 65 are skipped, since they still have plenty of bicorn meat. Notably, due to the Laigon being able to fly, they will arrive quicker, but the gang doesn't need to hunt, so it works out.

Chapter 66:

Between his panicking and self-harm, Thistle takes a bit longer to figure out what to do, since the Laigon doesn't comfort him like the Faligon did.

Chapter 67:

As they watch Thistle and the Laigon arrive, Falin is having second thoughts. Seeing him again is making her think about the plan to eat the dragon parts later. After all, isn't this exactly what Laios always wanted? But can he even survive on the surface like that? What if they save and restore him... and he's furious with her for ruining his dream.

The Laigon takes the bait and excitedly (and messily) devours the bicorn curry and rice. He then curls up and goes to sleep.

Unlike Laios, Falin doesn't consider that the chimera might have more than one brain. Tears in her eyes, she carefully approaches, and swings her mace-staff with all her might.

Falin breaks down crying. Marcille sees the results, and heals Laios' fractured head without reviving him. Now he's just sleeping. After a group hug to comfort her, Falin redoubles her determination, and they go to confront Thistle.

Chapter 68:

Identical, other than some slight name-drop changes.

Chapter 69:

Marcille has long term plans for being dungeon lord, but for now they plan to just use it to help Laios.

Falin isn't surprised to hear that Marcille is a half-elf. She suspected for a while. However, Thistle's callous taunting quickly pisses her off, and when he mentions the sterility, he nearly falls over as a stone spike erupts through the table and nearly impales him.

Infuriated, Thistle warps the room and unleashes the dragons.

The rest of the chapter plays out the same, with everyone getting separated. Falin escapes to the shelf, but everyone else gets got.

Chapter 70:

As the dragons begin fighting each other, Falin hides behind some bowls and starts chanting something while keeping an eye on Thistle.

Once he is distracted shouting orders at the dragons, she takes careful aim with her staff, and unleashes her spell, teleporting right behind Thistle, and disarming him. She may not be as burly as Laios, but Falin is a tough girl, and is easily able to overpower the elf twink.

Chapter 71:

She ties him up to her back and starts retrieving everyone's bodies.

Thistle cries fraud, and Falin explains that teleportation is actually a fairly recent invention. No wonder Thistle was terrified of Mithrun. This is the sort of magic not even the ancients were aware of.

Falin is still furious at Thistle, but decides to make a deal with him. He may choose. Either she kills him, and the party does as they please, or he may dispel the dragons and restore the room, and remain as their prisoner. If he does this, he has her word that they will do nothing to harm the people of the golden country.

Chapter 72:

Thistle, terrified what they may do to his people (An empty implied threat, but Thistle doesn't know that), reluctantly agrees. She lets him have his book just long enough to dispel his magic (Under threat that she'll teleport a rock into his head if he doesn't return it right away. Another empty threat), then she ties him up again, using proper rope, so he can't even move.

Falin revives the rest of the party. Marcille is very distraught that she died, and hugs Falin tightly. They are all very impressed that Falin managed to pull it off.

The lion is miffed that it can't feed on Thistle's desires while its current marks are watching. To make matters worse, Marcille is in no hurry to unseal the book, slamming it shut so she can rest after being revived.

Marcille and Falin talk about half-elves while Isutsumi and Chilchuck go grab drinks. Thistle continues to seethe.

Senshi prepares the tiny green dragon. He doesn't have the plant nectar, but it still turns out great. They feed some to the tied up Thistle. He reluctantly admits it's pretty good.

The gang take shifts over the night to watch the prisoner. As a curse of immortality person, Thistle doesn't need to sleep.

Chapter 73-74:

Marcille wakes up with a massive hangover. For a moment, she conflates a dream she had with last night, and panics that her first 'time' with Falin wasn't in her right mind.

Kabru arrives with the canaries. No one knows about Marcille's black magic, and Falin is pretty reasonable, so Kabru is optimistic about this meeting between them and the canaries.

Izutsumi and Marcille hide upstairs, Senshi prepares tea stuff, and Thistle sits in the corner, still seething.

Negotiations... go shockingly well! The canaries are impressed they were able to capture Thistle alive, and after a little questioning, it's clear Falin hasn't fallen under the dungeon's spell. They are a little grossed out by the bavarois, but most adventurers are a little weird.

When Falin mentions the lion, Kabru asks for permission to explain the danger. After all, the reason demon discussion is banned is to hide the existence of wish granting, and they already know about that part.

With Chilchuck and Kabru's help, Falin ends up coming to a very satisfactory deal with the elves. They will hand over Thistle and the books, on the condition that the canaries' forces provide all the assistance they can in preserving, transporting, and eating Laios. Falin is even able to cite the phoenix as evidence that this plan is viable.

Falin and Pattadol shake on it, and everyone is excited that the danger has passed.

Unfortunately, this premature happy ending is disrupted by something everyone forgot about.

Falin's pearlipede is privy to this entire conversation. And so is the lion. It manages to pop out of the unsealed half, and warns Marcille about the canaries, fueling her fear, and when Mithrun breaks into her room as the negotiations are being finalized, Marcille panics and unseals the lion.

Chapter 75:

Chaos erupts in the house as no one is quite sure what is going on. The canaries rush upstairs to help Mithrun, but they fail to stop Marcille before she declares her lordship.

The canaries are attacked by giant spiders while Marcille absconds. She vanishes before Falin or the others can see her. Falin's party heads upstairs to find Marcille, but only find dead spiders and wrapped up elves.

Chapter 76:

They help Lycion and Kabru carry everyone outside, including Thistle. Lycion fills Falin in on what happened upstairs and she is mortified. They leave Thistle with them, and head out into the remixed dungeon to try and find Marcille and talk her down.

Chapter 77-78:

Everyone receives word that Falin has taken down the lord of the dungeon.

When the chaos starts to unfold, Flamela receives an update from Lycion. Negotiations had been going well with Falin, but a member of her party went rogue, and is now the lord.

With Falin's party confirmed to be working to stop Marcille, the canaries do not attack them, instead focusing on finding Marcille.

Worried that the elves will kill Marcille, Namari, Toshiro, and the Orcs head out to try and find Marcille or Falin first.

Chapter 79-80:

Marcille has approximately 25% less longing in her eyes as she stares at Laios frozen in ice.

Not being in quite the same rush as canon, they don't accidentally fall in the water, instead running down the stairs.

They find the mushrooms and retrieve their stuff. The familiars are disconcerting, but at least they are ostensibly on their side.

They attempt to head in the direction the mushrooms were heading, but don't get far before hitting a dead end. As they try to figure out what to do, a massive flying snake pounces and gobbles them up.

The party panics as the long thin chamber begins to slowly fill with fluid. With the mouth clamped shut, they decide to run as far back as they can. Falin is pretty sure intestines don't have acid, right?

After a harrowing few minutes, they are pooped out in Marcille's front yard.

After reuniting and bathing, Falin tells Marcille about their deal with the canaries, and implores Marcille to reconsider.

Marcille refuses and reveals her dream. Falin doesn't laugh at her, but is concerned. She remembers how miserable the people of the golden country were. Surely the dungeon's power can only extend lives through that same curse.

Notably, due to not eating Thistle, the lion is still in its quadrupedal form. The lion does its best to convince Falin and the others, but after what Kabru told them about the demon, it rings pretty hollow.

Falin refuses to help the demon, not wanting Marcille to become another Thistle.

Marcille is upset, and decides she can make her dream come true by herself. She has the gang confined to the kitchen. She'll do it herself, and they'll see how lovely her dream is later.

Chapter 81:

Falin has no idea what kind of monster Donato is.

Operation Hometown Cuisine proceeds as normal, though Falin doesn't have the realization about Marcille's fears, since she didn't pry into her nightmare.

After failing her persuasion roll on Marcille, Falin gets fed up and grabs Donato's hand, then teleports the doppelganger out of the tree.

Chapter 82:

Identical.

Chapter 83:

Mostly the same. Kabru isn't a prisoner. While the canaries prepare to fight the monster army, they have Kabru escort Thistle to the entrance. Thistle is mostly just resigned at this point. He spots the golden country as part of the new patchwork dungeon, and notices it is off in the corner away from the action. At least Marcille isn't putting them in danger.

Kabru meets up with Toshiro, Namari, and the orcs.

Chapter 84:

Ofc Falin also comes up with the mushroom disguises. Toshiro isn't sure how to feel seeing Falin dressed as a big dumb shroom.

Falin frantically explains how she's pretty sure the lion had been grooming Marcille to be the lord the whole time. That's why she's so out of control.

Lycion explains that when things get this bad, the only solution is to kill the dungeon lord. Thistle calls bullshit. He lost the position without being killed. Lycion clarifies that as long as the demon supports them, there is no other solution.

So Falin proposes they deal with the demon itself.

Lycion shoots that down too. As everyone heads out to fight the monsters, Falin is left despondent.

At Marcille's behest, the lion possesses the pearlipede, engulfing her arm, and speaks to Falin. It tries to convince her to join Marcille. After all, don't they love each other? Chilchuck retorts that if you really love someone, both sides have to be willing to compromise.

The lion tries another tactic. It asks about their favorite foods. Falin's favorite food is ice cream, particularly a swirl of orange sherbet and vanilla ice cream. (If she had been given the chance, she would have discovered exorcism sorbet to be her favorite.)

Unlike Laios, who realizes the lion's weakness in this fight, Falin is just left feeling even more hopeless. But ultimately, she decides to head for Marcille, not knowing what else to do.

Chapter 85:

Falin is quite delighted to see Laios, and is sure it means Marcille isn't too far gone.

Things proceed mostly the same, except Falin again poofs the doppelgangers away. As the party keeps climbing towards Marcille, Falin throws out the armor piercing questions. If Marcille is so callous to create fake versions of her parents, why not just create fake versions of her friends that agree with her dream.

Because a fake isn't the real thing. And what Falin wants is Marcille. The real Marcille.

Marcille starts to break down, admitting that the whole reason she's doing this is because she can't stand the thought of losing Falin and the rest of her friends.

Falin gently embraces Marcille, and explains. If Marcille spends all her time worrying about when their time together will end, then they won't get to enjoy the time they do have together. As they look deep into each other's eyes, Marcille's eyes swimming with tears, she leans forward and-

Senshi ruins the moment by explaining that they already know how to live longer healthier lives. A BALANCED DIET! A HEALTHY CIRCADIAN RHYTHM! AND MODERATE EXERCISE.

The moment is ruined, but it's okay. Marcille clings to Falin as she can't help but laugh as she sobs. Falin smiles and gently rubs Marcille's back. Everything finally feels like it's going to be okay.

Right?

Chapter 86-Finale

#delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #manga spoilers #anime spoilers #alternate universe #marcille donato #spoilers #laios touden #falin touden #farcille #fanfic #role swap au #Laios got Eaten #dungeon meshi fanfic #chimera laios

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"Show Me & Teach Me" Part III - A Heart Full to Bursting

Neteyam x fem!Omatikaya OC Part III Summary: Will Seyla finally find the courage to tell Neteyam how she feels?

Content: SMUT 18+ MDNI, angst & fluff, pining, protective Neteyam, romance, Neteyam is your mentor, teacher-student chemistry, eventual happy ending, slight age-gap fetish, older man-younger woman. Word count: 9.3k

Part I - Show Me & Teach Me Part II - I Like Your Stars Better

Author’s Note: I apologise for the delay between Part II and this final Part III. I’ve had a difficult few weeks at work and I can’t write when I’m tired, the words just don’t flow. But here it finally is! The conclusion to Neteyam and Seyla’s journey. This part is more emotional than the last, but it’s no less spicy. Enjoy! 😉

***~~~***

It had started as a dull ache at first, just a mild pressure in Seyla’s chest that niggled at her throughout her days; three unspoken words whispering and swirling gently in the tender depths of her heart. I love you...

She kept them a secret.

The small ache had then grown, ebbing and flowing like the modest currents of the spring water streams that ran down through the mountains and hills, feeding into faster-flowing waters. And as more time passed, the three words began to chant themselves louder within her, the ache surging into capricious currents like river rapids that frothed and churned, filling her heart with a deep yearning to speak what she felt aloud. I love you, Neteyam…

But still, Seyla kept her lips sealed.

Now, the three unspoken words roared like furious thunder in her soul, demanding to be freed so they could dance on her tongue and slip past her lips into the realm of spoken truth. It was almost unbearable how full her heart felt, so full it was close to bursting. The pressure was almost akin to pain.

Seyla did not know whether it was her timidity, her fear or just plain youthful inexperience that caused her to cling on so tightly to her silence. Perhaps it was a combination of all three. She had no doubt about her feelings; there was nothing she felt more certain of in her life. She loved Neteyam. Her heart was his to possess and yet she could not find the courage to speak the words.

The only times she was distracted from the agonising ache was when she was deep in concentration; focused singularly on a complex healing task at work, or focused so entirely on Neteyam during another one of their lessons. Indeed, her heart was not the only thing too full of him at the present moment. Her mouth was currently also too full to speak the verity in her heart even if she wanted to.

A deep, rumbling moan sounded from Neteyam as his hands threaded themselves into Seyla’s beaded braids where she was knelt before him, his cock in her mouth. His grip was firm and her braids pulled against her scalp where he had fisted them in his hands, but the slight pain was pleasurable, Seyla found.

Running one hand in a tantalising caress along the inside of one of his thighs, she moaned keenly, bobbing her head while she worked his beautifully hard length in and out of the wet heat of her mouth. Her other hand was wrapped tightly around the base of his cock where it was too far down for her mouth to reach, and she stroked him in time with the bobbing of her head.

A string of expletives ground their way out from between Neteyam’s gritted teeth, “Fuck, that feels so good. You’re getting too good at this, numeyu (student).”

Hollowing her cheeks and drawing up his length with a long, slow suck, Seyla’s lips popped free of his cock with a soft slurp and she looked up at him through coquettish eyes, “Mm, I’ve got a good tutor.”

With her bright green eyes never leaving his, she stuck her tongue out and began to run it in a slow swipes from side to side against the sensitive, ridged underside of his cock head. The move earned her a strangled grunt from Neteyam and a little spurt of pre-cum against her tongue, salty and sweet. His head lolled backward against the bark of the tree he was leaning against and she revelled in the way his breaths came in deep heaves; each one causing his broad chest and shoulders to expand and contract raggedly.

Seyla could feel her own arousal like a thumping beat between her thighs. Her sensitive flesh tingled and she was sure she could feel core drenching itself in slick. She absolutely relished seeing Neteyam like this, completely undone and unguarded. It made her feel empowered in a way she had never felt before to have such a formidable male at her mercy.

“Yawntu, please stop teasing.” Neteyam’s words were a pleading whine and his grip tightened in her braids, though he made no move to force Seyla’s head closer to him. She giggled. He was ever the gentleman even amid his burning desire.

Licking a teasing stripe up his length, she conceded to his request and took him into her mouth again, carefully puckering her lips like he had taught her so she would not nick him with her teeth. Enjoying the way his girth stretched the moist confines of her mouth, she slowly pressed her head down until he hit the back of her throat, before pulling back up again in another tormenting suck.

Seyla carried on at her unhurried pace, making sure to pay special attention to the swollen tip of his cock every time she bobbed back up to it with a particular suck and swirl of her tongue. She caressed his balls with her free hand, encircling them in a loose grip and fondling them with her thumb and fingers. Neteyam emitted a whimper and his hips jerked.

Humming in satisfaction when his cock hardened impossibly further in her mouth, Seyla brazenly reached down with another hand to touch herself. Her fingers ran easily past her core, collecting the slippery moisture that had pooled there. Her eyes lifted to Neteyam’s face again and she found him watching her with a slack jaw and hooded eyes. Raising her slick-soaked fingers from her core, she ran them smoothly up the skin of his thigh, leaving a glistening trail of dampness in their wake, all the while still dutifully bobbing and sucking like a conscientious student.

Neteyam’s face twisted and he panted wantonly, his hips squirming a little under her ministrations, “Seyla, please.”

Drawing back off him again with another pop so she could speak, Seyla purred, “Please, what? Tell me what you want karyu (teacher).” She continued to fondle his length with a hand, squeezing and stroking his shaft, but she stopped her strokes just short of the sensitive head in a deliberate move to tease.

It was at times like this that Seyla amazed herself. She had discovered a feminine confidence within herself these last couple of moons in these provocative situations with Neteyam. She took control where she wanted to, whispered filthy things to him, coaxed whimpers from him and made him beg with a self-assurance she never knew she possessed.

It was ironic really. She was like a bold palulukan during their carnal evening explorations, but when it came to voicing the ardent emotions she harboured for him in her heart, she was like a wilting tsawksyul (sun lily).

A bead of pre-cum seeped out from his cock and Seyla swiftly cleaned it away with a keen lick of her tongue. Neteyam had yet to give her an answer, but he appeared too consumed by his pleasure in that moment as she proceeded to play with him even further. She toyed gently with the mushroom-shaped tip, softly caressing it in small up and down strokes with only her fingertips.

Neteyam was clearly becoming impatient in his endeavour to find ecstasy. He pumped his hips lightly, seeking more friction against the devilry her hands were wreaking upon him. Deciding to indulge him a bit, Seyla clasped his length firmly with both hands and allowed him to thrust into her grasp. She lowered her head towards her hands and positioned her lips in such a way that would permit the head of his cock to press against her puckered lips in a salacious kiss with each upward thrust of his hips.

The daylight was diminishing quickly now with the onset of eclipse and Seyla absorbed the masculine vision before her in the tawny light. Neteyam’s tanhì (bioluminescent freckles) were aglow now in the darkening atmosphere. His skin glistened with a sheen of perspiration and a single rivulet of sweat was beading its way down his sternum between impressive pectorals. The muscles of his abdomen and his thighs flexed from time to time with his thrusts and by Eywa did he smell divine.

An intoxicating musk was pouring off him, a rich aroma of woodland pine and pure male sex appeal. It made Seyla very much wish that his cock was filling something else of hers instead of her hands. Her core pulsed and clenched in want between her legs, disappointed at the emptiness it felt which she knew would be so satisfyingly filled by the beautiful, hard cock pumping in and out of her grasp.

But she and Neteyam had yet to cross that line. And besides, they were late for dinner at his family’s home now too.

Seyla saw Neteyam’s gaze flicker briefly to the darkening horizon as if he too was registering the latter-mentioned fact. His lips peeled back from his teeth in an unsatisfied grimace and he panted at her through his thrusts, “I’m so close. Can you be a sweet girl and finish me off like I taught you last time?”

Seyla felt a spark of excitement rush through her at the memory of their last encounter. Neteyam had guided her around what he liked and he had been a striking and wild picture of pleasure when she had thrown him over the edge. “Yes, karyu.”

Remembering what she was taught, she grasped his balls with her left hand in a firm grip, snug enough that she felt the skin of his scrotum pulling but not so tight as to be painful. A pleasure-filled hiss from Neteyam confirmed she was right. Encircling his shaft with her right hand, she positioned it at the base to hold him still before wrapping her lips over the swollen tip of his cock. Focusing just on the tip, Seyla began to bob her head quickly, the flat of her tongue roving over the oozing slit at the top with each rapid draw and suck.

Neteyam’s reaction was immediate and a long, throaty groan exhaled from him, “Oh Great Mother, yes. Just like that, yawntu.”

Seyla knew he would not last long based on the telltale stuttering of his hips and the shuddering of his breaths. He was so beautiful like this, all rippling muscle and moaning with wild abandon as he hurtled towards his peak. She felt her own nipples stiffen at the stimulating sight and the throbbing want between her own legs intensified.

His groans were getting harsher now and Seyla felt one of his hands leave her braids to cup her jaw, which she had learned was his indication that he was about to orgasm. She was not going to pull away though. She wanted to taste him on her tongue and imbibe every drop of the essence he was about to gift her.

Neteyam’s entire frame tensed and Seyla took a quick and indulgent glance at his face, noting how his jaw was dropped and his eyes were screwed shut while he sailed over the edge into oblivion. Gorgeous. She pressed her head down, taking his length as far as she could go. She felt his cock harden before it pulsed and jumped, hot fluid spattering the back of her throat as she instinctively swallowed it all down with a gratified moan.

The stifled cries of bliss from Neteyam as he came were music to Seyla’s ears and she rubbed his thighs relaxingly while he came down from his climax. She slowly drew her mouth back over his sensitised flesh one last time to clean him off before she released him, licking her lips demurely and patting the sides of her mouth with her hands to make sure she had not missed any stray drops.

A breath blew out from Neteyam’s lips and he chuckled at her with a shake of his head, “By Eywa, look at you, you’re so beautiful on your knees. Pleased with yourself, are you? Enjoyed your dessert before dinner?”

Seyla rose elegantly to her feet with a smug smile, “Very pleased.”

She moved to pluck her loincloth from where it lay over a nearby rock, but she felt Neteyam catch her wrist and spin her to face him. Clutching her against him, Neteyam stole a hungry kiss from her. Evidently his desire had not been completely slaked.

“We’re late for dinner now and it’s all your fault.” Neteyam murmured against her lips, his hot hands roaming in a searing trail down her back and over her pert bottom.

“You needed it.” Seyla breathed in return, “You were so wound up after the disagreement you had earlier with the other warriors. You were strung tighter than a bowstring that’s too short for its bow. Do you regret my offer?”

“No, I could never regret that delightful mouth of yours.” Neteyam’s hands roved past the cleft of her buttocks and she gasped when two of his fingers slipped easily through her folds to breach her core. He smirked, devilishly handsome, while he curled his fingers within her tight heat and revelled in the way Seyla writhed against him, “Perhaps the only thing I regret about letting you have your way with me is that I now have to wait until after dinner for my own dessert. I’m not done with you, yawntu. We’ll finish what you started later.”

***~~~***

Dinner with the Sullys went tremendously. The comfortable teasing and banter they all shared was both a wonder and a comfort to Seyla who had grown up an only child. They shared the happenings of their day with each other, joking and laughing as they ate.

Neteyam had been incredibly attentive to Seyla the whole evening. Not that his family had excluded her by any means, but knowing she was shy, he had made sure to keep her included in conversation and had encouraged her with a squeeze of her knee whenever she spoke. He had checked what foods she preferred and consistently ensured she had enough on her grazing mat, topping it up with more teylu grub, stewed yerik, spiced grains and leafy greens as she ate. In return, Seyla had peeled and cored the various fruits they shared afterward. They had fed each other fragrant pieces of sweet fruit by hand, so wrapped up in each other that they were completely oblivious to the quietly approving eyes of the rest of the family, Neytiri and Mo’at in particular.

“They make a very sweet pair, sa’nok. She’s a good choice for Neteyam.” Neytiri remarked under her breath, sitting alongside her mother as they enjoyed their dessert of fruit.

Mo’at’s eyes crinkled in the corners, a wizened smile gracing her lips as she watched her grandson and his betrothed. They were sat closely together, their crossed knees touching. Their sides were pressed against each other’s and their tails were twined like lianas while the downy tufts of hair at the ends whipped and frolicked in a frisky tango with each other. The tsahìk breathed a tranquil breath, “Yes, they suit each other remarkably well and the bond they share is deep.”

“Seyla is blessed by the Great Mother too. I can feel the grace of Eywa about her. Her heart is tender, but her spirit is strong.” Neytiri added, chortling to herself when she saw Seyla attempting to fend off another piece of fruit, which Neteyam was trying to coax into her mouth.

“Indeed, she will be a formidable tsahìk in time. I daresay they will be among the greatest leaders the Omatikaya have ever seen.” Mo’at agreed, “Eywa calls to them both, maite. It won’t be long, I feel, before we will be celebrating their blessed union.”

“No, not long indeed.” Neytiri smiled, feeling balmy warmth swell in her heart at the sight of the young pair. She recognised the expression Neteyam wore, his attention focused singularly on the young woman beside him as he beamed at her through golden eyes that were radiant with contentment. Her son was absolutely besotted and it only warmed Neytiri further to see the same enamoured expression mirrored on Seyla’s face.

“One more.” Neteyam cajoled, lifting another saccharine fruitlet to Seyla’s lips. Her giggles were infectious and he tittered along with her, playfully zipping his hand this way and that to avoid her repeated attempts to bat him away.

“No, I’m full! I’ll be sick otherwise. The fruit is very sweet!” Seyla twittered, twisting away from his fruit-laden fingers.

“Just like you are.” Neteyam said, yielding to her wishes and slipping the fruity morsel into his own mouth instead, “Although, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you, yawntu.” He bumped his nose softly against her cheek in a tender nuzzle and winked at her, before helping himself to more fruit.

Seyla sucked in a small breath at his affectionate words and she felt herself flush from her cheeks all the way to the pointed tips of her ears. There it was again, that teeming pressure in her chest and the uncomfortable tingling on her lips; an ever-mounting urge to confess to him how she felt.

Great Mother, Neteyam was so beautiful. His cerulean skin gleamed slightly in the lambent glow of the firelight and Seyla particularly enjoyed the lean flex of the muscles on his broad back as he reached across the platters of food to pick at more teylu grub. Physical appeal aside, Neteyam was also a good man, a much-loved brother and son, and a wonderfully attentive partner.

Neteyam was her betrothed. They had kissed, played and enjoyed each other’s bodies for many weeks now, and she had known him and respected him as her mentor for far longer still. He had been clear in his initial affection for her, had asked her to accept him as her future mate, so why was she struggling to tell him she loved him?

Or perhaps her struggle was fuelled by the underlying insecurity of the converse question: Why had Neteyam not told her he loved her?

Those three words that hankered to escape the confines of her sealed lips had not crossed the threshold of his either. Maybe he did not feel for her as deeply as she did for him and Seyla did not want to make a fool of herself by being too eager.

“Seyla!” Tuk called from across the space, approaching them with a cheery grin, “I hate to peel you away from my brother, but can you re-do my braids for me, please? You’re so good at them. Besides, we’re overdue some girl time and Lo’ak is being gross over there.”

A loud burp sounded from the far corner where Lo’ak was lounging and Kiri swatted his thigh before scrambling away from him. She heartily agreed with Tuk, “Yep! He’s got enough gas to light a bonfire currently.”

“Hey, man!” Lo’ak protested with an exaggerated pout, patting his distended belly, “Go easy on me. I feel like I’ve eaten an entire sturmbeest cow.”

Neteyam gave an emphatic laugh, “You look like you’ve eaten a cow, bro!” He placed a warm kiss on Seyla’s forehead then and gestured for her to join Kiri and Tuk where they were seated not far away. His voice was low as he uttered a promise, “I’ll catch you later. I haven’t had my dessert yet, remember?.”

Seyla’s eyes widened at him in shocked warning, hoping his voice had been quiet enough that no one had overheard his comment, but she grinned at him anyway and joked, “Go, I think Lo’ak might need your help burping him. Firm pats on the back should do it.”

Kiri was already helping Tuk to undo the existing braids of her hair and Seyla moved to join the two women. Being only a couple of years older than Tuk, Seyla was closer to her than she was to the other Sully siblings. She and Tuk had been in the same circle of friends as children and she had a few fond memories of the games they used to play together.

“Your hair is getting so long.” Seyla breathed, settling herself at Tuk’s back as Kiri moved over to make space for her, “It’s nice and thick and healthy too.”

“Groundnut oil, like you said. Works wonders for the hair.” Tuk beamed.

“Yes, I’m sure Tuk wants to look her best to impress her tunutu (crush).” Kiri teased, jabbing Tuk lightly in the ribs, which the young woman protested with a playful swat at her older sister.

Seyla sucked in an excited breath, chortling impishly at the topic of conversation, “Ooh, who is it?” She ran her fingers through Tuk’s hair and her skilled hands began their braiding work, “You’re stuck here now while I do your hair so you have plenty of time to tell me about him.”

Tuk gave a narked harrumph and Seyla saw Kiri laugh at what must have been a glower on her younger sister’s face.

Kiri snorted with an eyeroll, busying her hands with some flax weaving, “She isn’t going to tell you so you’re going to have to guess. I’ll help you.”

“Kiri!” Tuk squealed in complaint, though her tone held more embarrassment than heat.

“Is he around our age?” Seyla queried. Tuk stubbornly remained mute, but Kiri shook her head and tilted her head upward in a hint. “Oh, older? Let’s see, what does he do?”

The kittenish game carried on, Seyla guessing various occupations and making several deductions based on Kiri’s enthusiastic hints and expressions. Tuk was muttering curses under her breath at the discomfiture of the whole situation though she had no choice but to sit still while Seyla finished her hair.

“It doesn’t matter.” Tuk grumbled, “He doesn’t take any notice of me.”

“Well, why don’t you go up to him and talk to him?” The suggestion earned Seyla a pointed look from both Kiri and Tuk, who turned to purse her lips at her with an expression of scepticism.

“That’s a bit rich coming from you, oh shy one. You barely speak to anyone you’re not familiar with.” Tuk retorted.

“I just mean that maybe you should put yourself out in his space? Greet him as you walk past? I don’t know. I can’t really offer any tips if I don’t know what he does or who he is.”

Another peevish harrumph from Tuk, “I would go and put myself in his space, but he’s never alone.” Her sentence was punctuated with a sulky pout and she turned her head slightly to shoot a glower in the direction of her older brothers.

A distant memory of her and Tuk talking about boys as children wafted through Seyla’s mind as she registered the scowl on the other girl’s face... An image of the warriors’ party coming and going on their daily assignments came next, and her brain conjured clear recollections of Neteyam and Lo’ak laughing and joking with one of their warrior friends…

A bright spark went off in her brain and Seyla gasped by Tuk’s ear, “Ateyo?”

A startled gulp from Tuk and a victorious hoot of laughter from Kiri was all the confirmation Seyla needed that her guess was correct.

“Shhh! Stop it!” Tuk squirmed, swatting lightly at Kiri again who evidently found the entire situation incredibly entertaining. Tuk cast wary eyes in the direction of her brothers, “Be quiet or they’ll hear you!”

Reaching for another bead to adorn the braid she was working on, Seyla chuckled, “I remember you liked him even when we were kids!”

Tuk shifted self-consciously on her crossed legs and sighed dreamily, “He was cute when we were young. Now he’s hot. Don’t tell Neteyam or Lo’ak or I’ll never stand a chance! They’ll think he’s too old for me.”

Kiri scoffed, turning her flaxen work over and holding it up to the light so she could check her patterning, “Ateyo is only four years older than you. You’re grown now, Tuk, our brothers shouldn’t be meddling. Besides, Neteyam can’t really talk on that point.” Her perceptive eyes fixed on Seyla and they narrowed deliberately while a grin played on her lips.

“Well, Seyla is two years older than me. Plus, you know what Lo’ak is like. Ateyo really looks up to him and Neteyam, and I don’t want Lo’ak to pull the whole ‘don’t touch my baby sister’ shit on him.” Tuk griped, reaching back to carefully pluck at one of her finished braids. She surveyed Seyla’s handiwork with admiration and gave her a grateful smile.

“One last bead,” Seyla breathed, her skilful fingers securing the last braid, “And there, you’re done.”

Tuk ran a gentle hand over her head, patting at her new braids and she turned to give Seyla a hug, “Thank you, sister!”

“Immaculate work as always.” Kiri praised, tucking a loose strand of her own chin-length hair behind her ear, “The only time I feel a tiny inkling of desire to grow my hair out is after seeing the results of your beautiful braiding, Seyla.”

Seyla smiled appreciatively in response at Kiri’s words and returned Tuk’s hug with equal fervour. She placed her hands on Tuk’s shoulders as they drew away from each other and she said, “Mantis orchids are in season right now and our healers’ stock of the flower’s nectar is running low. The orchids bloom their widest at night. I think you should be brave and ask Ateyo to accompany you on an evening walk while you gather more mantis orchid nectar for your grandmother.”

“Just like you should be brave and tell my brother you love him?” Tuk’s riposte came without missing a beat and Seyla’s breath caught in her throat on her next inhale, and she choked, coughing.

“Tuk.” Kiri reproached her sister, knowing her remark bordered on inappropriate as it touched on a very personal subject. Her eyes still held a twinkle of mirth though and her smile was astute as she regarded Seyla.

Seyla felt the saliva in her mouth dry up. Her ability to speak also proceeded to abandon her in a poof of smoke and she felt hot blood rushing to her face and neck in mortification. Great Mother, was she that obvious?

“I don’t- I mean, we haven’t-”

Tuk was now sporting a shit-eating grin that could rival Lo’ak’s at Seyla’s discomposure, and Seyla knew this was her friend’s cheeky payback for being teased about Ateyo.

Tuk gave Seyla’s knee a supportive pat, “It’s OK, it’s not just you. You’re both really obvious.”

“You’ve got that look on your face when you look at Neteyam.” Kiri added, “That moony-eyed and slightly constipated look that people wear when their heart is bursting to jump up their throat and out their mouth.”

Squirming under the scrutiny, Seyla murmured under her breath, “I don’t want to be too forward.”

“He loves you too, I know it.” Kiri reassured, “My brother is good at many things and he’s a fairly open person, but he’s shy with his words especially where he feels deeply about something. He’s a mighty warrior, but even the bravest of warriors will be less than mighty when it comes to matters of the heart.”

Tuk nudged Seyla’s side with a giggle, “I’ll do you a deal. I’ll ask Ateyo out if you tell Neteyam how you feel.”

“Only if you’re ready, Seyla.” Kiri countered with a pointed glance at Tuk, “But don’t be afraid to speak your truth if it’s burning in your heart. Be brave for my brother and tell him.”

***~~~***

The light twittering of the insects and the gentle croons and calls of the nocturnal wildlife resonated through the woodlands like a peaceful melody. Their swift footfalls lit a bioluminescent trail on the mossy ground as Neteyam and Seyla jogged toward the forest loft that served as their private retreat.

The nights were cooling off rapidly with the approach of the cold season, but their speedy pace as they headed for their destination kept them warm. Seyla trotted ahead of Neteyam, her heart beating both in excitement as well as in nervous anticipation of what was to come. The jogging kept her warm now, but she knew that the sensual activities they were soon to engage in would do more than stave off the cold. Neteyam wanted his dessert and she was going to let him indulge.

She felt a playful tweak on the tuft of her tail behind her and Seyla increased her pace, laughing. This was a game they often played. Neteyam was understandably stronger and faster than she was, and the only reason he always ran behind her was because he enjoyed chasing her flicking tail.

Reaching the familiar cluster of tall trees where their loft hung, Seyla scaled a massive trunk with Neteyam hot on her heels, reaching for one last tug of her tail. He succeeded just as she reached the flat of the woven platform and she squealed, whirling away from him.

“You can be such a child sometimes!” Seyla laughed, her chest heaving slightly from the physical exertion of the climb.

“How many times did I get you today? Four? Five?” Neteyam questioned, chasing her over to the warm rugs and blankets they had laid out in a corner over the past few moons. “You have to keep me guessing a little better.”

“Like a child.” Seyla admonished again with no real crossness in her tone, her expression mirthful.

Neteyam dipped his chin, his gaze turning predatory, and she spied the roguish weaving of his tail behind him. She watched him intently, loving the way his eyes glowed with mischief and his tanhì glimmered in the darkened atmosphere. Great Mother, he looked anything but childlike. He was an imposing picture of masculinity; like a stone-cold hunter that had identified his next target, whose countenance held the promise of the most delightful kind of danger that she was quite happy to fall prey to.

Seyla remained undaunted. On the contrary, her heart gave a tight squeeze, full of fondness as Neteyam stalked her towards the blanketed corner. Though his eyes were hungry, his smile was warm and her arms instinctively twined around his neck when he lunged forward to envelope her about the waist and take her to ground.

He laid them both on their sides facing each other and showered a series of kisses over her forehead and cheeks, “Thank you for coming to dinner with my family again tonight. It means a lot to see you getting to know them all. I hope we weren’t too rowdy.”

“It was wonderful. Your family has always been very welcoming.”

“You looked like you had quite a good time with my sisters. What were you all talking about?”

A nervous pang hit Seyla at the recollection of her conversation with his sisters and Kiri’s words rang in her ears; be brave for my brother and tell him… She licked her lips and swallowed, suddenly feeling edgy. Remembering Neteyam was still awaiting an answer, she brushed the subject away, “Just girl stuff. Secret girl stuff.”

“Yeah?” Neteyam did not look at all deterred from the topic. He trailed a warm hand down Seyla’s arm, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles and then each of her fingertips, “You’re not supposed to keep secrets from your betrothed, yawntu.”

Eywa help her… Seyla gulped and gave a taut chuckle and tried feebly again to end the conversation by making it seem mundane, “We were just talking rubbish about boys.”

If anything, her remark had the opposite intended effect and Neteyam cocked his head coyly at her, “Are your eyes wandering towards other men, Seyla?”

“No!” She gasped in a mild panic, and while her next words refuted his statement, they also damned her further into the conversation she was trying to get out of, “We were talking about you!”

“Oh? What about me?” Neteyam’s voice was a low and teasing rumble, but Seyla found nothing about her present circumstances funny.

Her eyes were wide as she stammered, trying and failing to find an answer. Seyla froze, looking at Neteyam who had his head propped up on one elbow as he surveyed her. She probably looked like a stunned yerik facing the pointed tip of a hunter’s arrow.

The truth in her heart swelled and the pressure amplified in her chest. The words she so badly wanted to say crept up her tightening throat. She was a little concerned that she was going to be sick, but there was no nauseous roil in her belly, just a jumble of nervous flutters.

You know he loves you… he has shown you that he does through his actions… Seyla’s brain supplied encouragingly. His sisters, those closest to him have reassured you…

Sure enough, Neteyam sensed her upset and he was quick to soothe her, “Hey, it’s alright. You don’t have to tell me. I was just teasing you.”

A little bit of the pressure in Seyla’s chest fizzled out and she shook her head with another attempt at sounding light-hearted, “Sorry, it’s girl code.”

A chuckle rumbled through his chest, “I can accept that you were talking about me and not to me. As long as you were only saying good things.” Neteyam ended his statement with a wink at her.

Seyla forced a grin and rolled gently onto her back, pillowing her head on a small bolster roll, relieved that at least she did not have to lie, “Yes, it was only good things.” A yawn overcame her then and she rubbed lightly at her eyes.

“Tired? Grandmother said that it was busy today in the healers’ hut.” Neteyam asked, to which he received a bleary nod in response. He chuckled again and reached out to stroke her cheek, “Just rest then, go to sleep.”

Seyla’s heart was galloping behind her ribs and she still felt on edge. Sleep would not find her easily in this state and besides, she wanted Neteyam to have his dessert. He was about to roll onto his own back and get comfortable when she protested his movements and pulled him in for a kiss.

She slanted her lips against his and his upper body moved to shelter hers as he deepened the kiss with a groan. It never failed to amaze Seyla how he stole her breath from her every time. Her blood began to heat and everywhere, all over, she felt like she was liquefying into a pool of desire. She wanted him, all of him.

Neteyam drew away slightly and the cold air of the night caressed her lips again at the absence of his warm mouth. He spoke, “We don’t have to do this. I know what I said earlier, but you’re tired and you should sleep.”

“No, I want you to touch me.” Seyla took hold of one of his wrists and manoeuvred it to cup one of her breasts through the delicate string of leaves over her chest. Still sensing and seeing the hesitation on his face, she added, “It’ll relax me and help me sleep. Please?”

With a shake of his head, Neteyam took a deep inhale before his breath whistled out of him in a sigh that sounded very much like a surrender, “I can’t deny you anything, yawntu. You have me wrapped around your finger. And I guess I’m happy to help myself to dessert too. Just relax, sweet girl.”

He claimed her lips again with so much fervour it was a little painful and Seyla clutched at his face with both hands, letting her mouth fall open to his plundering. This would be an apt distraction from the yearning in her heart. The pleasure would divert her attention away from it and a climax would relax her enough to find sleep.

Her heart gave a hard and petulant thump, almost as if it wanted to challenge her cunning plan.

Neteyam’s lips roved over her neck and chest, and her chest covering was swiftly discarded. He busied his mouth with the supple skin of her breasts, his tongue and lips worshipping her peaked nipples in hot and moist suckles. Seyla let her eyelids slide shut and she focused on the pleasurable madness that he continued to wreak upon her body.

I love you… The thought speared through her conscience. Seyla pushed it away, doubling down on her efforts to concentrate elsewhere.

The ties of her loincloth were being loosened by large, hot hands and she lifted her hips to help Neteyam shimmy the fabric from her hips and legs. She heard him groan at the bare sight of her, which made her lips quirk a little.

Pressing his lips to the inside of her thigh, his hot breath tickled her sensitive skin, “You’re so perfect, Seyla, and you’re all mine.”

His words sent her heart into overdrive, her tender emotions spiking exponentially. Seyla’s conscience chimed in yet again, tell him how you feel… he has claimed you as his… tell him you love him…

She was panting now, but she was unsure if it was because of the rising tidal wave of emotion within her, or because of the fact that Neteyam had buried his face at her core. Heady bursts of pleasure shot through her as he lapped and suckled at the little nub of nerve endings above her entrance. Her core pulsed in bliss under his attentions and a wanton moan escaped her when he snaked two fingers inside her.

However, despite the pleasure, Seyla was trying and failing to lose herself in it.

Her emotions had risen to the challenge and they were steadily overwhelming her. Her plan was not working... She could feel that her entire body was tense from the mounting anxiety, and a painful lump was forming in her throat where she had clamped her tongue to the roof of her mouth in a bid to stem the pressure.

Speak the words... Be brave… She pressed her fist against her open mouth, the points of her teeth digging into the bony protrusions of her knuckles. It caused her pain, but it was yet another helpful distraction from the pressing burden of the words that threatened to evict itself from her body by force.

Eywa, she was being absolutely ridiculous... Why was she so afraid? This was Neteyam, her Neteyam…

Seyla knew there was no escaping her predicament anymore. She had kept her love for him to herself for too long and it had eaten away at her slowly until now. Her feelings had reached a head and she needed to tell him tonight.

Neteyam stilled between Seyla’s legs. She was sprawled on her back for him as she had been all the previous times he had pleasured her like this, but that was where the similarities started and ended. Her legs trembled where his firm hands pressed into her pliant thighs, but they were not trembling with need. The air around him was devoid of her breathy moans and panting breaths. Instead, her torso was stiff and she was silent.

He kissed her clit gently, drawing it into his mouth again while curling his fingers within her, but his head shot upright and away from her when a hitching sob reached his ears.

Bolting upright and wiping his mouth on the back of his wrist, Neteyam shifted so he could peer at Seyla’s face. Her fist was wedged tightly against her mouth and she peered back at him through wide and anxious eyes that were pooled with tears.

Panic flared in Neteyam’s gut and his concern was instant, “Seyla? Have I hurt you?”

Seyla’s legs lowered themselves until they were flat again and she rolled onto her side to sit up. She was partially facing away from him now and he could see her dabbing at her cheeks. Her response was a wet gurgle, “I’m sorry. It’s not you, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Why are you apologising, yawntu?” Unable to help himself, Neteyam placed a cautious hand on her shoulder and applied pressure, urging her to turn back towards him. She did, but her eyes remained downcast. “Something’s bothering you, what is it?”

Her head bobbed in a slow nod and she took a shuddering breath, “I need to tell you something.”

“Alright, take your time.” Neteyam said in a gentle croon, fighting back the urge to press her further. Patience was something he learned early on with his siblings, especially with Kiri or Tuk when they were upset. Putting pressure on them for information before they were ready to speak only had the opposite effect of making them shrink further into themselves.

Worry and dread started to bubble like an amalgam of trepidation in his belly. Seyla was clearly upset and his mind was jumping to all sorts of the worst conclusions. Was the pace of their relationship moving too quickly?... Had he scared her with his enflamed desire for her over the past weeks?... Or worst of all, was she having second thoughts about being his betrothed?...

The points of Seyla’s ears rose and fell with her next deep breath and she began softly, “I hope that this doesn’t change what we have or make things awkward. And it’s fine if you aren’t where I am with things.”

“Go on.”

Seyla lifted her gaze to meet his and while it pained Neteyam to see her cry, the wetness of her tears shone beautifully in the moonlit reflection of her bright green eyes. Her hands lifted from where they had been clasped in her lap and she reached out with overturned palms. Neteyam took them intuitively in his, rubbing his thumbs pacifyingly over her smooth palms.

He could see she was struggling with her words and her tail had curled itself around her knelt thighs, the furry tuft quaking slightly. Keeping careful control of his own insecurity, he reassured her in a measured tone, “Don’t be frightened. Whatever you have to say, it’s just me. Even if it’s bad news.”

That earned him a watery laugh from Seyla and she shook her head, “No it’s not bad news.”

“OK, then speak freely.” Neteyam raised her hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles again. It was one of his favourite things to do to show his affection for her. Seyla had beautiful hands; healing hands that were gentle and soft, skilled and lifesaving. They were also hands that had set his body aflame with desire, hands that had brought him to the edge of paradise and beyond.

“Neteyam,” Seyla murmured, her voice almost barely a whisper. She squeezed his hands then, drawing strength from the feel of them around her own, “I love you.”

The moment the words left her, it was like a great weight had heaved itself free of her being. Seyla felt as if her lungs were suddenly able to expand better, the cool air filling and refreshing them with renewed vigour as if they had been impeded previously by the emotional burden she had carried.

Neteyam sat in speechless silence for several moments. Seyla could glean no hint of his thoughts or feelings, his expression the careful and neutral mask she had seen him don before in high pressure clan situations that called for composure amid heated chaos. His silence felt like an eternity to her and the black tendrils of her dreaded doubt began to unfurl in her heart.

But then his face split into an effulgent smile, stretching across his cheeks, all gleaming teeth and bright eyes.

Seyla could not help her own smile in reaction, her face illuminating in an overjoyed reflection of Neteyam’s. He pulled her towards him, one of his hands cupping one side of her face as he drank from her lips again in a deep kiss.

Cradling her face in his hands, Neteyam rested his forehead on hers, “Is that what you needed to tell me, sweet girl? Great Mother, I love you too. I love you so much.”

Seyla’s heart was bursting now with a different kind of pressure. It was light and warm, full of gladness and teeming with her love for him, which she now knew was returned with equal fervour. Sniffling and giggling in turn, she pawed at her eyes, “You never said anything and I was scared to tell you in case you didn’t feel the same.”

“That makes two of us. I was scared too. We’ve come a long way in the last while and I didn’t want to rush you or put any pressure on you by admitting how I felt too early.”

Seyla chortled at the thought that Kiri had been right about Neteyam (as she often was with most things). Rubbing her cheek affectionately against his, Seyla teased by his ear, “My mighty warrior was scared?”

Neteyam pressed a kiss to her neck, “Only when it comes to you. Only you have that power over me, to rattle my confidence and make me question my actions. I told you when we started this that we would go at your pace.”

Secure now in herself and in the profound connection they shared, Seyla knew what she wanted. “Then I want you tonight. I want to have all of you.”

“My life and my body are yours, as you wish.”

Neteyam groaned when Seyla climbed into his lap and her sweet mouth slanted over his. Their position elevated her head a little over his, giving her better control of their kiss as their faces twisted and moulded to each other’s from side to side. He was very aware that she was naked atop him and his cock was painfully hard within the confines of his loincloth.

Skimming his hands up her bare sides, he found her breasts and cupped them, delighting in the way her nipples stiffened immediately against his palms. Toying with the interested peaks, he felt Seyla whimper into their kiss, her hot breath sweet and moist against his mouth. He moved one of his hands to grip the softer flesh of her bottom, while his other hand snaked its way between their bodies to rub at her centre. She was so silky slick and she raised her hips to allow him to insert two fingers.

A gasp left her and she threw her head back, clutching at his shoulders as she undulated her hips, grinding herself against his hand. Neteyam’s other arm moved to her lower back to support her movements and he nuzzled the soft skin of one breast, purring, “That’s it, sweet girl. Do whatever feels good for you.”

To say that Neteyam felt like his control was slipping was an understatement. Watching Seyla like this and feeling the sensual clench and pulse of her core around his fingers inside her, as she writhed in his lap, was the best kind of torture a man could ask for. It was so easy for him to pretend that it was his cock she was riding. He knew that the fabric of his loincloth would be damp from the pre-cum he was leaking if he touched it.

Neteyam knew her peak was fast approaching by her breathy whimpers and the rhythmic fluttering of her core. Burying his face against her bosom, he attached his mouth to one nipple, sucking and flicking it with his tongue to further push her towards her oblivion.

However, Seyla gave a cry and abruptly stilled her movements, “Wait no, not yet.”

“What? Why?”

Seyla gingerly clambered off his lap, her hands reaching for the ties of his loincloth, “I want you inside me when I finish.”

Neteyam felt very divided in that moment. His body screamed its approval, but his mind hesitated with his concern. He gave a cautious chuckle, “This is your first time and it could be a little uncomfortable. It’s not a bad idea to finish first before we explore further.” He saw her wrinkle her nose in disagreement and she looked resolute.

Seyla loosened the ties of his loincloth and tugged at it insistently, prompting him to raise himself onto his knees so he could free it from his body completely. She stated clearly, “You said I could set the pace. This is what I want.”

Neteyam could never refuse her, he was powerless to. His cock throbbed with the relief of being freed from its cloth prison and he palmed it gently. Seyla was about to lie down on her back when he reached for her, “No, come here, numeyu. Stay in my lap like you were before. It’ll give you all the control.”

Following his guidance, Seyla settled over his lap again, greeting his cock with several tantalising strokes. Neteyam’s hips jerked, but she instantly understood what he meant when he said that this position gave her total control. His hips had jumped at the contact of her hands, but her weight prevented his pelvis from doing much more than squirm in place with no real upward motion.

She felt the aching throb at the apex of her thighs heighten at the sight of him, hard and wanting. She did not need any more foreplay. She felt hot all over, sensitised to every whisp of wind that whispered past her tingling skin; sensitised to every caress of Neteyam’s hands as they roamed her hips and back.

A flush had begun to tinge Neteyam’s cheeks a dark violet and his breaths blew out of his parted lips in shallow puffs. His golden orbs were desirous, but Seyla still perceived his gentleness in them and she smiled, “I’m ready.”

Neteyam swallowed tightly, resting his hands on the swell of her hips and guiding her as she raised them to position herself over him, “Take your time. Don’t worry about me, I’m already enjoying this far too much. Just focus on you.”

The blood was pounding in Seyla’s ears and they burned hotly too, but she was not afraid. Her heart was thumping in sensual anticipation. She reached down between them to take hold of his hard length, running the blunt head through her folds to find the right angle for entry. Neteyam whined at the contact and he buried his face into her neck.

The head of his cock nestled itself into place where Seyla could feel her entrance was and she slowly began to press downward. Her mouth popped open as the tip of him breached her with a slight burning sensation. She carried on, seating herself further and further down along the length of him. The girth of his cock filled her with an uncomfortable and burning stretch that made her wince, but there was also a satisfying fullness to it that urged her hips down all the way until her thighs were pressed flat against his once more.

Seyla’s discomfort thankfully did not last long and the stinging pain soon gave way to a gratifying pleasure at the notion that he was inside her. Sitting back a little, she beamed at Neteyam who grinned at her through half-lidded eyes and he squeezed her hips encouragingly.

Neteyam was going to explode from the sensation of Seyla’s tight walls around his cock. Her body was wet and so, so blissfully hot. She began to tentatively swivel and lift her hips and the friction made him hiss aloud in pleasure. He was vaguely aware that he was also cursing under his breath and he fought against the urge to press her hips down harder with his hands. Her pace was what they had agreed on and he would not violate that.

“You feel so amazing.” Neteyam breathed as she rocked against him with a gratified moan.

“So do you.” Seyla returned breathlessly.

Neteyam’s hands shifted to support her pert bottom, easing some of the pressure in her thigh muscles while she continued to lift and sink her hips, stroking her core up and down his erection. His head spun with blissfulness and his cock throbbed its enjoyment within her. However, he could soon feel that she was tiring and one of her hands was rubbing desperately against her clit as she chased her climax.

A whine of frustration escaped her as Seyla tried and failed to reach the peak she was yearning for. It all felt so good, but her thighs burned and she somehow needed more of him. Sitting herself against him and pausing to catch her breath, she felt Neteyam kiss her chin tenderly.

“Let me take over, yeah?” Neteyam carefully manoeuvred them both to lie her on her back, never breaking the contact between their bodies as he did so. Her thighs hugged his hips and she turned to press a kiss against one of his biceps where he was now leaning over her on his forearms.

Seyla loved being caged by him like this, their bodies pressed as close as they could be and his face hovering by hers, close enough to kiss, nuzzle and whisper in his ear. Her hands ran up his muscled chest and she pulled his face towards hers for a searing kiss.

Neteyam rolled his hips, thrusting into her with a full stroke and she broke away from his lips with an abrupt inhale. She gasped at the new sensation. She felt him even better like this, even fuller and more completely than before. He had stilled at her gasp and his expression was concerned as he stared down at her.

“I’m fine.” Seyla reassured, pressing her thighs against his hips and squirming in an unspoken urge for him to continue, “That feels great, keep going.”

Placing a gentle kiss against her lips, Neteyam nodded before tucking his face against hers to rub his cheek along hers, “Alright. Stop me if I’m hurting you, yawntu. You feel so amazing and I’m on the brink of losing my control.”

Neteyam rolled his hips against hers once more and then continued, setting a sustained rhythm that made Seyla’s head loll to the side as her pleasure consumed her. Every roll of his hips pressed his pubic bone against her clit while the length and girth of him pushed and pulled in and out of her core in the most delicious manner. Her entire body prickled and seared with ecstasy, her orgasm building quickly where they were joined between her thighs.

Moans and whimpers were leaving Seyla with each solid thrust of his hips against and the sound was the most titillating thing Neteyam had ever heard. The burning coil of his impending orgasm was winding low and tight at the base of his spine and his control wrestled with his pleasure. She was close to her own climax and he was determined to see her through to it without losing his control.

Cracking open her eyelids to catch a glimpse of her lover, Seyla relished the picture before her. She could not see Neteyam’s face as it was buried into the crook of her neck, but she could feel his expression was pinched, no doubt in pleasure, and his breaths were tearing from him in ragged moans against her skin. The muscles of his shoulders and torso contracted with each punishing thrust of his hips and she trailed her hands up his sides to press her palms against his hot skin, wanting to feel his muscles bunch and flex beneath her fingertips.

The telltale pulsing at her core signalled her impending climax and Seyla’s head lolled back, a hoarse cry leaving her as her body went rigid with ecstasy. Her fingernails clawed involuntarily across the skin of Neteyam’s back while her core contracted and throbbed around his cock in a powerful orgasm that made bright spots burst behind her clenched eyelids.

If Neteyam thought that he had enough control left to let himself savour his bliss a little longer, he was wrong. The violent clutch of Seyla’s centre around his cock as she orgasmed was vise-like and it forced his own climax from him with a guttural shout. He was helpless to stop the intense pleasure from consuming him as he ejaculated, his seed surging from him in harsh spurts into her welcoming heat.

Neteyam was panting against her like he had sprinted for a sustained distance. His chest heaved and his perspiration made his skin slick against her body. She nosed the side of his head where his beaded braids fell, tickling her cheek, and she inhaled his musky scent which was always the most potent after they had played.

He slipped off her to the side and she whimpered a little at the feel of his cock leaving her body. The sensation was closely followed by an oozing trickle of warmth that seeped down between her buttocks. An immense sense of gratification filled Seyla as she relished in the idea that Neteyam had reached the height of his pleasure inside her. She marvelled at how perfect she felt; how perfect it had all been bodily and emotionally.

Seyla whispered a small prayer of thanks to Eywa and her heart was so full.

Now that his breath was returning to him, Neteyam rolled onto his side to face her, “I love you, yawntu. Know that I always will. You’re the most precious thing in my life.”

“I love you too.” Mirroring him to roll onto her side as well, Seyla ran a hand across his forehead to wipe away several beads of his perspiration. She glanced downward at the thick braid of his kuru (neural queue) which was lying between them. Perhaps the afterglow of sex made her daring, but she reached out to trail a gentle hand down its tightly braided length.

Neteyam shuddered and his drowsy eyes slipped open at her touch. She watched him carefully. It was an incredibly intimate gesture, to touch the kuru of another. However, he appeared unbothered and a sloppy grin danced across his lips. Seyla’s own queue trailed at her side next to his, not touching but close enough that a mere shift of either of their arms would put their queues in contact.

Neteyam reached out to return the gesture, his hand stroking gently down her corded braid. It was a very pleasurable sensation and most definitely erotic in nature.

Seyla settled her hand over his, “I meant what I said earlier. About wanting all of you.” She traced her hand down his kuru again.

“What are you saying?” Neteyam murmured quietly. His eyes were bright and the corners of his mouth were twitching upward in what looked to be a hopeful smile.

“That I’m ready to be yours, fully, when you’re ready too.”

Seyla nudged her neural queue to lie alongside his, the thick braids coming into contact. The fleshy pink tendrils at the ends of their kurus unfurled, twisting and undulating in delicate coils. A few of the tendrils on each of their queues reached for the twisting wisps of the other’s, feeling and tickling each other but not fusing completely.

They both sighed in mutual pleasure at the intimate exchange, but they would not do this here tonight. It was not the way of things. Mating bonds needed to be forged before Eywa at the sacred grove.

Neteyam wrapped a strong arm around Seyla, pulling her body flush against his, “I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

Seyla snuggled against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart as slumber called to them both. She pressed a lingering kiss to his jaw, her heart singing with elation, “Well then, we better tell your grandmother that we have a wedding to plan.”

The last thought that flitted across Seyla’s mind before sleep claimed her was a humorous one and it brought a small smile to her lips: Tuk was going to have to hold up her end of the bargain after all.

***~~~***

Author’s Note: A massive THANK YOU again to all of you for reading and for your support. Leave me a line if you enjoyed this, I’d love to hear from you. It makes it so fulfilling to write when I hear your feedback. Reblogs are also massively appreciated! This is the last part of this work. I don’t have any plans to continue it. Maybe now I’ll be able to go back and add to my epilogue draft for ‘To Know You Again’ and hope my writers’ block for that gets lost! Much love to you all. xx

@glimmering-darling-dolly @liluvtojineteyam @han-sirentell @cinetrix @bluealiensimp @nmin @bellstwd @baahsaama @oasiswithmyg @creepytoes88 @strawberri-blonde @luvteyams @couragemydearheart @jaeyutabae @fandom-geek17 @anonymousailurophile

P.S. If you asked for a tag and you aren't in this list, then for some reason it hasn't worked and I wasn't able to tag you, sorry. 😟

#neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar movie #atwow neteyam #avatar james cameron #avatar twow #avatar neteyam #atwow #avatar #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x oc #neteyam smut #avatar smut #neteyam fic #neteyam fanfiction #avatar fandom #james cameron avatar #avatar fanfiction

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grantgustluv · 1 year

Text

his champion - lando norris

pairings: lando norris x fem!footballer!reader

author’s notes: THIS IS MY FIRST IMAGINE AHHHH so let me know what I need to improve on. Also, just pretend that it wasn’t the Hungarian GP on 31st July 2022

warnings: some mentions of anxiety, implied smut (i’m not ready to write that yet sorry)

comment any requests please - i’m going to try and put a new one out every Wednesday

30th July 2022 - the night before the final

Lando and Y/N had been together 4 years, but known each other since the age of 4 and despite their demanding work schedules and busy lives, still found time to love and support one another. They decided to keep their relationship private (with the exception of close friends) because they knew just how brutal their “fans” could be with the introduction of a significant other in their lives, and, although they considered themselves too young to be fully settling down yet, they still only saw each other as their future and they didn’t want that ending yet, especially not by fake fans.

Lando was incredibly proud of his girlfriend and all her achievements despite her only being 23, he had been by her side through everything, all the best parts, like signing for her childhood club, scoring her first goal for both Manchester United and England and making her first appearance at the 2015 World Cup at the age of 16, but also all the lowest moments of her career too, the injuries, the hate, the doubt and all the rumours. Lando had been there through it all and he would always be her biggest supporter no matter what. The same could also be said for Y/N, she was his biggest fan and came to as many of his races as she possibly could and Lando insisted that she was his lucky charm. The only way they could support each other while not physically being there was by sporting the number 4 on their backs, Lando being McLaren’s number 4 and Y/N being number 4 for both Manchester United and England. It was their number. They were each other’s person.

The Women’s Euro tournament had been life changing for England’s Lionesses so far, they had truly done their country proud in every game, but they still had one more to go, the final, against Germany, their toughest opponents yet. Y/N was the top scorer of the tournament so far and was determined to walk away with the golden boot, but she knew it wouldn’t be the same without also winning the Euros altogether with her team.

She never usually got nervous before her games, but this was different, it was one of the biggest games of her career. But all that took over her mind was that she knew that Lando was going to be there. Thankfully, a break in the f1 season had fallen right on the day of the final, which meant Lando and a few of the other drivers were able to come and show their support.

Y/N couldn’t help the smile that took over her face when she looked at her phone, more specifically, her home screen as a notification popped up. It was a picture of Lando wearing her football shirt from last season with the cheesiest grin on his face. Lando hated the photo, but she absolutely loved it, because whenever she would look at it, it would brighten up her day. In that moment she couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have someone that radiated so much joy and happiness by her side. He was the daylight in her life.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. Slowly, she walked over to the door of her hotel room and opened it to be greeted by a bouquet of gorgeous roses and the very same smile she was grinning to herself about a few minutes ago. “Missed me?” asked Lando as he handed her the flowers. Y/N didn’t even answer as she jumped straight into his arms and held him as tight as possible. They both breathed a sigh of relief at finally being back in each other’s arms and they weren’t ready to let go yet, they could’ve stayed like this forever. Y/N pulled away first and looked at the flowers. “They’re gorgeous Lan, thank you,” she beamed as she walked over to put them on the side table. She felt his arms wrap around her waist and the tickle of his faint stubble in the crook of her neck. “Not as beautiful as you sweetheart,” he mumbled softly, kissing her neck. He gripped onto her hips and spun her round so they were face to face. “How are you feeling?” he asked, knowing how anxious she could sometimes get before big games like this. “I just feel like I want to get out there and play, I hate the waiting around before,” she ranted. He chuckled lightly, “I know baby, but you’re going to do so amazing, Daniel and I have already predicted what’s going to happen” she raised her eyebrows encouraging him to carry on. “You’re going to score, I just know it. And not just one, but two. It’ll be a tight game but I really believe you girls will win, you all deserve it so much, especially you Miss L/N” he finished. She just gazed at him lovingly and said with a teasing smile, “I hope you’re right Mr Norris.”

It was the day of the final at Wembley and all the girls were getting ready in the changing rooms for the last push of the tournament, giving each other encouraging talks and of course a last minute motivational speech from Leah. Higher up within the stadium was Lando, he was in one of the family boxes with the rest of the L/Ns and had brought along Daniel, Carlos, Max, George, Lewis and Charles (Y/N’s second family, she would call them), all there to support not only their friend’s girlfriend, but someone who had supported them in their careers too.

As Y/N was listening to her pre-game music, her phone buzzed, it was a message from Lando. She tapped on it and chuckled to herself, it was a picture of Lando, Daniel, Max, George, Carlos, Charles and Lewis looking out onto the pitch, all wearing an England shirt with her name and number on the back. She felt a tear form in the corner of her eye at the sweet gesture from the boys and replied back quickly with a red heart when she felt a tap on her shoulder from her teammate, signalling that they need to go line up ready to walk out.

Stood behind her was Jill who squeezed her shoulders and said “We’ve got this kiddo.” Y/N laughed at the nickname that had stuck since the first time she played with Jill in 2015 when she was in fact still a kid. She took a deep breath and replied with “Yes we do.” All of a sudden she was walking out into a packed out Wembley, screams and cheers surrounded her as the two teams made their way onto the pitch. Lining up, Y/N started to look around and her eyes locked onto him. There he was. They gazed at each other lovingly and Lando waved down at her and then made a love heart with his hands, causing Y/N to blush and a big grin to take over her face showing off the dimples that Lando loved so much. It wasn’t until a nudge in her ribs from Lucy Bronze broke her loving gaze from him, letting her know that the national anthem was about to start.

The first half had been pretty uneventful with neither teams scoring a goal and England knew they needed to up their game in the second half or their dream of winning might just slip away. It was in the 62nd minute when Lucy was running down the wing and spotted Y/N outside of the box with no one marking her. Y/N saw the ball coming her way but she knew she wouldn’t have time to stop the ball in order to get the right angle for her shot, so as it came closer she prepared herself and as the ball made contact with her right boot, she volleyed it into the top corner of the net. She couldn’t believe it. She had scored for her country in the European final. She ran to the corner of the pitch towards the England fans and the subs that were warming up alongside the rest of her team, with Leah launching herself onto Y/N’s back. All she could hear around her was her famous chant the fans had come up with a few years ago and the encouragement from the girls. This was a dream come true.

The stadium was still buzzing as the players made their way back to their positions, she looked around for him and when she spotted him she held up an ‘L’ with her fingers and then formed a heart. Lando got a few teasing shoves and comments from his friends. “I think that one was for you mate,” Daniel said with a chuckle. Lando just blushed and mumbled “I know” back to him.

Unfortunately, due to Germany scoring as well and bringing the score to a draw, the game was forced into 30 minutes of extra time. The last thing any of them wanted was it going to penalties, because they knew how much pressure they were, especially in a final. Everyone was on the edge of their seats as it edged into the last 2 minutes of the game and Germany were given a corner. Y/N decided to hang back instead of getting in the box with every other player, even the Germany goalkeeper had joined the rest of her team in the box in hopes of scoring a last minute winner. The delivery into the box was near perfect but no way was Mary letting that ball into the goal at this point so she pushed it away straight out of the box. The ball flew over all the player’s heads and straight towards Y/N and the player that was marking her. She collected the ball, turned around and started running as she already knew that she was onside. She could feel the German player close to her trying to catch her up but she kept pushing. She was running towards an open goal and they were surely into the last minute by now, so she increased her pace as much as she could for one last push. She kept her gaze forward as she took the shot just after entering the box.

Time slowed down completely as she and nearly ever person in the country watched the ball hit the back of the net. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion as she ripped her shirt of her head and swung it round throwing it to the ground as she saw her teammates running towards her. She looked around the stadium. The fans were screaming, the girls were grinning from ear to ear and Lando was cheering and beaming down at the love of his life. He already thought that he was madly in love with her but right now he swore he had never felt this much love for a person, his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest and without thought reached into his pocket to feel the little box he had been carrying around with him for the last 3 months. He wanted this, he wanted forever with her, no, he needed forever with her. He caught her looking up at him and nearly fell to his knees when she grinned up at him with teary eyes, pointing to herself, forming a heart and then pointing at him. Lando chuckled nervously to himself, wiped his eyes and then repeated the action.

All the players were eagerly awaiting the full time whistle from the referee and finally it came. Y/N dropped to her knees and burst into tears, they had done it. She had done it. She felt herself being lifted off the floor by a few of her teammates and they couldn’t even produce words as they just cried into each other’s embraces. They approached the German players, congratulating them on a good game and comforting those in tears.

‘Three Lions’ started blaring through the speakers after a few minutes causing the girls to start dancing and singing on the pitch, the whole of Wembley sung in unison and gazed down at their Lionesses, their champions.

After applauding their fans and the German players receiving their silver medals, it was time for the Lionesses to collect their Gold medals, she was nearly there. “And now, give it up for your golden boot winner, your player of the tournament, your number 4, Y/N L/N!” the announcer spoke and suddenly, a loud roar burst through the stadium. She couldn’t believe it. To have the support of your family and team was one thing but to have the support of your country was like no other feeling in the world. She shook Prince William’s hand after receiving her medal and walked over to the trophy, admiring it before walking over to the rest of the team who were now just waiting for their skipper Leah to bring over the trophy ready for the proper celebration to begin.

She didn’t think it was possible, but as Leah lifted up the trophy into the air, the stadium grew louder than ever. Y/N and Millie were then handed a bottle of champagne each and they knew exactly what they needed to do. Y/N turned up to her families box and winked at Lando and he immediately caught on as to what was about to happen. She gave the champagne a little shake and with some force banged the bottom of the bottle against the floor, causing the champagne to shoot out of the top and high into the air, the screams of her teammates then took over as Rachel stole the bottle out of her hands and started spraying everyone with it. Y/N looked up at Lando and could see Daniel and Max next to him cackling at the stunned and lovestruck expression on his face. He was a little embarrassed by himself with how easily that turned him on.

The girls all jumped around on the pitch taking turns holding the trophy and when it was finally handed to her, Y/N kissed the top of it and lifted it high into the air. Just as she was about to pass it on, she felt multiple pairs of arms lift her up in the air and the stadium yet again let out a huge cheer for their number 4. The girls had never experienced an atmosphere like this, things were changing and they knew that they were a part of that change.

As the celebrations had died down, the player’s families were allowed to come down onto the pitch, and as Y/N was getting yet another picture with the trophy, she felt arms wrap around her from every angle. She turned around to be met by the proud expressions of her mum, dad and little brother, she shared tight hugs with all of them before she heard her name being called by a familiar voice behind her. She turned round and jumped straight into Lando’s arms as her legs wrapped around his waist. After a few moments she unhooked her legs and Lando placed her down onto the ground with their foreheads still touching, neither of them could care less about being private anymore as they both leaned in and connected their lips together in a loving and passionate kiss, hearing the sound of cameras clicking around them. They were pulled apart by the sounds of fake gags coming from behind them, they turned around to be met with the boys sharing fake looks of disgust on their faces. Y/N and Lando went over to them and they all joined together for a group hug, which again, caused a ricochet of camera clicks to go off around them. This moment was exactly what Y/N had waited for, winning the European Final and doing it with her team, her family and the love of her life.

Lando and Y/N walked out the stadium hand in hand, heading back to the hotel to get changed ready for the real celebrations to begin.

Lando couldn’t tear his eyes away from her all night, she was jumping up and down to the song playing, her hair bouncing as she did so, her dimples prominent due to the gorgeous smile on her face, her dress clinging to her beautiful figure and her angelic glow causing her to stand out perfectly in the room full of people. Lando could confidently say that he was the luckiest man on earth to have a girl as perfect as her being in love with a guy like him.

It was getting into the early hours of the morning now and both Lando and Y/N were ready to go back to the hotel room, both had craved to be sleeping in each other’s arms again after a month away from each other. They arrived back at the hotel room 15 minutes later and Lando watched as Y/N flopped onto the bed dramatically. Chuckling to himself, he began to remove her heels that she had been complaining about for the majority of the evening and placed them to the side, before carefully lifting her up with her clinging to him like a koala and carrying her to the bathroom and placing her gently on the countertop. Lando stared at her lovingly and softly pushed her hair out of her face. Her eyes flickered open slightly and she let out a little hum as her eyes met her favourite person. Lando proceeded to gently remove the makeup from her face and then carry her back through to the bedroom before removing her dress and replacing it with one of his tops that drowned her figure.

Just as Lando had snuggled in beside her, he felt her shift slightly in his hold. “I love you Lan, you’re everything to me” she mumbled tiredly, followed shortly by her soft snores. The faint traces of the early morning sunrise had started to peek through the curtains allowing Lando to gaze at her sleeping figure. Being careful not to wake her, he placed a gentle kiss on the side of her head, “I love you too my champion,” he whispered softly into the kiss, before drifting off to sleep, holding his girlfriend tightly to his chest.

#lando norris #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 #lionesses #football imagine #england #womens euros #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc #george russell #imagine

375 notes · View notes

naughtystiel · 1 year

Text

DEANCAS AU FIC REC MASTERPOST II

Here's another list of fics that I've read! They're all amazing, but the first two? They hold a special place in my heart because of how tender they are. If you decide to read them - prepare for an emotional rollercoaster.

You can check out the previous fic rec list here.

Happy reading! ♡

Restless wanderer

Just west of the town Porthgwarra, Cornwall, Robert Singer’s farm lies, a mess of ravaged land gaping out onto a fretting sea. Robert's orphaned godson, Dean Winchester, is named sole beneficiary of the farm - and though he hasn't seen his godfather in fifteen years, he travels across the Atlantic with his brother and half brother to care for Singer in his old age and tend to the farm. All of them hope to leave behind the squalor and famine of their old life.

What Dean meets is the bird-infested home of a widowed eccentric, and a new shepherd whom he can neither stand nor see any use for - stoic, rude and conceited, Dean plans to fire the mysterious and wandering Mr Novak the moment he comes into legal possession of the farm. But upon the shepherd's offer to teach him the trade, in anticipation of Dean replacing the man himself, Dean finds in the wild and roaming man a steadiness and certainty his own life has never yet contained. And one day Dean will have to ask, not tell, the shepherd to stay.

Down by the water

AU, set in 1853 — When Castiel loses everything dear to him due to a botched river crossing, including his supplies, livestock, covered wagon, and even his wife, he has no where to turn, no way to survive stranded in the middle of his journey. That is, until he meets Dean Winchester, who offers him a life saving deal: in exchange for help on his farm, Dean offers to provide much needed room and board. But how will this decision affect Castiel as he moves through his grief, and discovers feelings he never would have expected? Fighting with injury, pain, grief, and even the threat of death, Dean and Castiel find themselves in the one place they would have never expected: down by the water, struggling to accept their unforeseen love.

Dark side of the moon

Five months into his six month mission, an accident leaves Flight Engineer Dean Winchester stranded on the moon. It comes down to a man he has never met to bring him home.

Angel in the iron mask

Finally free of his actual shackles, Castiel finds himself in a situation a lot worse than being locked in the dungeon with an iron mask to conceal his face. The intrigues of the court will make his head ache, but it would all be worth it if he could just find a way to save the omega that had been enslaved to him.

Protect and serve

Sam Winchester is America's newest sweetheart. An in-demand actor and all around Boy Next Door. However, with his fame comes the need for protection. And Sam only trusts his older brother, and former beat cop, Dean, plus his best friend, Castiel Novak, to keep him safe. However, Castiel and Dean share not only a desire to keep Sam safe, but also a lot of friction between them. In an attempt to smooth the edges, Sam pleads with them to find a way to make things work. Castiel thinks Dean needs discipline. Dean thinks Castiel needs to lighten up. Together, they discover a lot more about each other than anticipated.

Playing with fire

When two best friends foray into a supposedly no-strings sexual relationship, someone is bound to catch feelings, someone is bound to fuck up, and someone is bound to beg for forgiveness; because that’s the recipe for a romantic comedy.

But life is not a romantic comedy, no matter how much Dean Winchester secretly wishes it was.

Instead, we present: Boy finds out boy, who has been his best friend for over twenty years, is secretly a Dom. Boy then sorta tricks boy into taking him on as his new sub. Boy discovers a side of himself he never knew existed. Boy is in way over his head.

Quarantension

In which Dean and Cas weather quarantine together like any Good Friends would — by developing outstanding skills in self-deception and providing all the casual affection and strictly platonic* orgasms the other could possibly need to make it through.**

*Really not platonic

**Spoiler: They need a lot.

Expectations

For centuries, the Winchester princes have taken omegas from the northern town of New Eden to bear the royal heirs before exiling them to the countryside - a punishment for a past dispute caused by the town's strict beliefs. When Prince John marries Lady Mary of Campbell and puts a Queen on the throne, however, most people assume the tradition has been set aside.

Thus, it's a complete surprise to Dean when he's sent to New Eden to retrieve the girl they've arranged for.

Cas, as a male omega in backward New Eden, has been ostracized and condemned by his town since he presented. To make matters worse? His sister is being given away to the crown prince of Winchester, never to return.

But when the morning before the prince's arrival dawns and Anna is nowhere to be found, the town's council decides there’s only one thing for it:

They’ll simply have to give him Cas instead.

It's the end of the world (as we know it)

The year is 1996, and Dean’s stuck in Kankakee, Illinois while Dad’s on a long-haul hunt. It’s not too bad. He’s even got a friend, now—even if Cas is a weird, gawky loner kid who gets way too intense about his sci-fi novels and doesn’t know how to stop staring. Just business as usual.

Until his dad comes back, and it isn’t.

The year is 2011, and the shadows known as ‘angels’ and ‘demons’ are falling from cracks in the sky, raining death, destruction, and monsters where they pass. When the Joint Task Force asks for their help in stopping the end of the world—John Winchester, his sons, and a ragtag band of hunters—well, that’s just business as usual, too.

Until Dean meets the cold blue eyes of their team liaison—Dr. Castiel Novak.

The meaning on my skin

Castiel Novak never wanted to be a Dominant. Living with the mark on his skin that designates him as one has haunted him every day of his life, and he goes to great lengths to avoid the part of his biology that he hates. When he makes the decision to get a tattoo with the intent of hiding his mark away, he meets Dean Winchester: tattoo artist and confident submissive.

Dean turns Castiel’s world upside down and subverts every expectation Castiel ever had about himself and his designation. Will Dean be able to teach him how to be comfortable in his own skin?

Roll with it

For two years, Dean’s been slaving away beneath his boss – many label him a secretary, but he fucking hates that and feels like it only applies to someone wearing a pencil skirt, so he insists on his title of Executive Assistant. And for what? In the vain hope that one day he’ll manage to become an editor for Sandover Publishing, and that he’ll see the manuscript that he’s slaved over since college finally realized in print.

That’s the dream, anyway.

Right now, he’s fucking late.

Dean wants to be an editor. Castiel just wants to stay in the country.

‘The Proposal’ – as you’ve never seen it before.

Stay in my arms (if you dare)

Grammy award-winning singer/actor Dean Winchester is on top of the world. His latest role has him tipped for an Oscar nomination and his life is damn good, thank you very much. That all comes crashing down after a series of death threats forces his manager, Bobby Singer, to hire a bodyguard. Bobby knows just the man for the job. Castiel Krushnic, former CIA field agent and the only person Bobby would trust to protect Dean.

Tensions are high and personalities clash from the first meeting, with Dean unwilling to change his lifestyle and Cas just wanting to do the job in peace. A series of events turns the pair into reluctant friends while both try to ignore their growing attraction for each other.

Dream house

Castiel Shurley and his best friend Dorothy Baum have decided to move in together. After his aunt assumes they are dating, she offers them money for the house, but only if they apply for a famous reality show ‘Dream House’. Since they could use the money and he doesn’t want to come out to his aunt, Castiel and Dorothy agree to fake date for the show. But things go wrong when Dorothy falls in love with the show’s producer and Castiel starts to develop feelings for one of the hosts.

Dean Winchester is a co-host of ‘Dream House’, along with his brother. Sam, being a realtor, finds a fixer-upper and Dean turns it into a perfect house for their clients. Even though he has what most people only dream about, Dean is incredibly lonely. He had bad experiences with relationships in the past and he doesn’t think he will ever meet anyone who can earn his trust. Until he meets Castiel.

I'll be good

Dean has always been the good guy. He made the hard decisions and rose to the occasion whenever his family needed him. He became a parent way too soon after the deaths of John and Mary Winchester along with Sam’s big oops moment. Resettling his entire life to Beaufort, NC for the sake of those he loves the most.

Now at 25 an opportunity to finally be good to himself has been delivered in the form of one gorgeous Castiel Novak. The new arrival to town is the worst driver Dean has ever seen. As the eldest Winchester strives to overcome several bumps along the road of life can he also help Cas to steer towards a happily ever after with him or will Novak’s turbulent past cause them to crash and burn?

In other words a BDSM love story.

Shatter me

Dean Winchester started his day in seven easy steps.

Step one: Survive attack from a giant drool monster

Step two: Shower and shave

Step three: Suck down a cup of coffee while walking the drool monster to her favorite tree

Step four: Feed and water the drool monster

Step five: Have a balanced breakfast of microwaved egos, six medications, and two more cups of coffee

Step six: Check his email and schedule for the day

Step seven: Pack the pup and himself a hearty lunch and leave for work

In none of these steps did it say: meet your soul mate, hate them on sight and cause bodily harm…. and yet.

Crashing in

Castiel Novak is convinced he’s the last unwillingly single person in Lupine Cove. Even Gabriel, his perpetual bachelor brother, has found love. It’s probably because Cas leads the most boring life in existence. He’s a gay man living in a rented, one-room cottage in the same small coastal town he grew up in, just getting by as the owner of the same convenience store he was practically raised in. The most excitement he gets is chatting with the locals or maybe, if he’s unlucky, oversleeping and rushing to work. So when a baby is left at the Safe Haven drop-off at the local fire station, he takes the opportunity to step in for the child temporarily, at least until suitable parents, plural, can be found.

Life certainly gets more interesting.

And it gets even more interesting when a handsome man comes crashing—literally—into his life.

Partnered

Dean didn't think that his life as a detective could get much worse after Castiel was promoted to lieutenant.

Castiel was a stickler for the rules, had no sense of humour, and never seemed to give Dean a break, even though they used to be partners.

But then, despite all of their questionable history, the two are asked to go undercover on a case in the wealthy suburbs of California. . . as a married couple.

Lead by your beating heart

After a night of celebrating (heavy drinking) with his brother surgical intern Dean Winchester discovers that his resident, talented Cardio surgeon Castiel Novak, is...well a huge douche bag...kind of hot but still a huge douche bag. A douche bag that he's stuck with for the rest of the year, that's if he survives the year without Castiel killing him and making it look like an accident. So why is it that an easy friendship forms between the two men that swiftly becomes something Dean never expected to find when he moved to Chicago.

Bold will hold

All Dean Winchester wants is to open his own tattoo shop, which is why he signs up for Tattoo Gods, a tattooing reality show with a $100,000 grand prize. He also wants to avoid making an ass of himself on national TV, and he definitely wants to avoid falling for Cas Novak, another artist who’s not only his direct competitor, but someone he’s had an unspoken rivalry with since before he started apprenticing, and is just as ridiculously talented as he is stunning (and, as Dean comes to find out, kind and funny and passionate and sincere). Is that too much to ask?

Apparently, yes. Yes, it is.

Breathing into you

‘Beware the deep sea, that’s where the monsters come from.’ Dean had heard these words since birth, his father’s warnings shaping him into the man he is today.

That’s not the root of Dean’s hatred for merpeople, though. Twenty years after the day tragedy had touched the Winchesters’ lives forever as well as the end of the Great War between humans and mer, Dean is still haunted by that moment. But loving the sea is just as much a part of him as the dread for the merfolk, so when he isn’t working at the local bar, he is there, underwater, immersed in the vast blue his mother used to speak of in her bedtime stories.

Dean knows, however, that the sea can be as ruthless as it is soothing. When he is caught in the middle of a storm and faces the anger of the waves, the mysterious appearance of a stranger with blue eyes as clear as the waters Dean loves losing himself in forces Dean to question the truth behind his father’s old mantra.

Hot water

Castiel hated public showers.

In which Castiel is forced to use the company shower after hours and ends up doing unspeakable things he never thought himself capable of...

AU-fic containing mystery attractions and a lot of hot water.

I can make you scared

So this is how it goes. Best day of Dean Winchester’s life. Loses his job, finds out he’s been cheated on, gets dumped, all in the course of one fucked up Thursday. Drinking himself into oblivion is the natural response, right? A chance encounter in a dingy dive bar gives Dean a new friend who sees his problems and likes him anyway. Now, as Dean struggles to pick up the pieces of his life, Castiel just might help him put them back together in a way he never expected.

Fear of falling (apart)

In a world where D/s relationships are the norm and Chicago is caught up in a three-way mob war, Russian mob boss Castiel Krushnic makes John Winchester an offer he can't refuse: one that will make Dean Winchester his own.

Cuffed to an angel

Dean Winchester has a lot going for him: he's beloved by his students, he's finished writing his first book, and he's living comfortably in New York City. The only problem is... he's single. That wouldn't bother him much if his family wouldn't be visiting for the holidays. With cuffing season over, Dean has to face his family alone... or will he?

Castiel DiAngelo is a simple detective who hasn't really celebrated Christmas in over 9 years, holidays and family being a sore spot for him. But after taking Dean up on an offer, he finds that you can't really avoid the holidays.

Will these two be able to pull off a seminal holiday trope? Or will certain developments get in the way...

(don't) stop texting me

Castiel Novak is relatively happy living his solitary life as a Starbucks Barista. He lives alone with a cat named Hamburger, and he has one (1) emotional support friend, Gabriel.

Unfortunately, he is plagued by the fact that some guy (see: a random hot dude named 'Dean') is giving out Castiel's phone number as his own. And he's been doing it for months.

So, of course, when Castiel's at work and a hot stranger gives him his own phone number for the Starbucks Rewards Program... well... it doesn't go well.

Sweet boy

NOTE - nothing sexual happens between them until Dean's 18

Dean's sixteen when he meets John's well-to-do boss, Castiel Novak, and he's quick to develop a crush during a time where he's only begun to discover his preferences. He dates the beautiful Lisa and practically raises his younger brother Sam, because it's what John expects. But Castiel appears to see Dean in a way no one else does, and despite him knowing there's no way anything can happen between them, he relishes in the idea that Castiel cares at all for his well-being.

Between mounting pressures from a teenage Sam that no longer wants a caretaker, John's nudging for Dean to follow a career path he doesn't want, and a mysterious check for the exact amount of one semester at the school Dean had been eyeing, Dean finds himself reconnecting with Castiel.

And Castiel has a very interesting proposition for him.

Down time

It’s been said that Dean Winchester is a bit uptight but in his opinion being focused on producing quality work is nothing to be ashamed of. He would grudgingly admit he tends to get too worried about his work and schedule and that it’s beginning to wear him down. In a fit of work induced exhaustion, he decides to indulge in a deeply buried desire of his…

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solahsaavan · 6 months

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Some of the criticism of the show is valid and some of it is just...people lacking any sort of nuance or comprehension skills.

1) "They are stupid and irresponsible for being together in the public". Yes, but also the public doesn't know ji han is a chaebol and ah jeung is a no name actress. The public also doesn't know who Dohan's financee is. Only the wedding has been announced. It's not surprising at all that the two dumbasses thought they could be together without being seen. Ji han has no reason to believe his step siblings would send a reporter after him knowing it's Dohan's position they are after. Something so obvious shouldn't be have to be spelled out by the writers for you lot.

2) "How could that bitxh Ah jeong have the audacity to have feelings that don't revolve around Dohan? She should have continued being miserable and uncomfortable because it is only Dohan's safety and comfort that matters." No woman should put herself through so much pain for another man not even for her gay best friend. If you want to watch women make decisions centered around their relationship with a man then plenty of shitty BLS and works by incels with one dimensional fl characters exist.

3) Dohan, ji ahn and ah jeong are flawed human beings. None of their mistakes deprive them of their humanity and their right to love and be loved.

4) kdrama viewers have a meltdown every time a character makes decisions that are not the most ethically, culturally or rationally correct. It's not bad writing if a character makes a terrible choice CONSISTENT with their character.

5) But the outrage is always more loud for a FEMALE character every single fucking time. Like clockwork. Not only are you guys consistently boring with the demand for characters to stay conventional but also consistently MISOGYNISTIC.

6) Both ji han and ah jeong fought their feelings for each other before finally giving in. It wasn't immediate. They both are clearly guilty. Both of them wanted to talk to Dohan about this. He was the first person they wanted to talk to. He was on their minds on the date too.They only went out together as a couple to a STRANGE PLACE for ONE DAY where they thought they would be safe. Why are people acting like they have been hiding their relationship for ages? They didn't even get the chance to be public yet. NO, THEM ROAMING IN A STRANGE PLACE DOESN'T COUNT AS PUBLIC BECUASE NO ONE AROUND THEM KNOWS.

7) MEDIA SHOULD NEVER CATER TO YOUR MORALES OR FEELINGS. This world consists of average people who make horrible choices and who hurt themselves and others. I like watching them on screen. Hope more kdramas are courageous enough to experiment with genuine character flaws that aren't just being 'quirky' or a 'tsundere'.

8) None of the characters one this show are 'morally dubious or gray'. They just are people with flaws. Idk maybe read a book or two or watch peaky blinders.

#wedding impossible

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months

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AITA for block evading to make sure someone is still alive?

So this whole situation gets rather complicated and quick, so please bear with me… TW for mention of suicide.

I (20m) previously made friends with a younger artist (about 17f by now if I’m remembering correctly; please keep an open mind here) after being unaware of their age and just following them for their art for a few years. One day, when I was 18 and I believe they were maybe 15-16, I reached out to let them know that I had been deeply influenced by their art and thought a lot of their work was very fun and humorous, and we kept in contact afterward mostly through public chat spaces, just joking around with each other and sharing art and memes and the like.

I want to stress that I had absolutely zero foul intentions here. They were a lonely kid without many friends, and I felt for them; I went through a lot of the same shitty situations (namely an abusive home) they were actively going through, and genuinely all I wanted was to offer them a safe space and a friend. I know that people sometimes get weird about friendships across age gaps, but I sincerely only wanted to help where I could. To this day I’m still not sure if I went about it the right way, but that’s a discussion for my therapist and not for here.

Fast forward some time. I discover that the other artist didn’t have a lot of friends for various reasons that were all linked mostly back to their immaturity, which I didn’t mind considering that they were. Y’know. Kids. But part of this immaturity was just… not understanding time restraints and boundaries, and that reflected back at me, despite multiple instances of me sitting them down and having talks with them about it as gently as I could. These talks were usually just about them messaging me constantly, literally non-stop, in the middle of the night, during school hours, etc etc etc. During this time, I became sick — very sick. I stand now chronically ill and permanently disabled. I was sick, scared, and exhausted, and yet I was expected by this friend to talk to them literally constantly, or else they would get upset. And it took a further toll on my ailing health, because no matter how many times I tried to tell them that I physically couldn’t talk to them as much as they were demanding I do, it never seemed to resonate.

I started reaching out less and less, because I just physically couldn’t handle talking to someone That Much for That Long… It wasn’t personal. It came to a point where our chats went completely silent, and even if I did reach out to try and talk, they wouldn’t reply or would only do so in very short, clipped responses. So I respected the obvious decision they had come to and just… kind of stopped trying to reach out. I was still a follower of theirs, though, so I would visit their profile every now and then just to make sure they were doing okay as a means to soothe my own worries.

Then they made a post alluding to offing themselves, went radio silent across all their platforms for a few days despite my best efforts to reach out, until I tried to check up on them again and found myself blocked everywhere. This made me panic; I genuinely didn’t know what to do. It took me a while to even remember that I could just… log in to a new account online rather than the app to check up on them, and after a few weeks of doing this, I was relieved to find that they’re still doing okay and back to posting semi-regularly. I don’t know the details, but at least they’re alive, y’know? That’s all that matters to me. Now, I just try to check every month or so to make sure they’re okay, and I’ll send them little anon messages trying to uplift them, or tell them to stay strong… I’m aware that it probably falls under stalker territory or something, but I genuinely only want the best for them, and as it stands, I don’t have a whole lot of other ideas for how to at least make sure that they’re okay…

Anyway… I’m making this post because there was another “AITA” post that got torn apart by people for someone evading a block for some reason or another, and I guess I was just compelled to see if this story would get a similar reaction… 🤷‍♂️

So yeah. AITA for block evading to make sure someone is still alive?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

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codenamesazanka · 9 months

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because like, Tenko, age 5, wanted to be a Hero and the reason he gave for it was "there were these two kids who was being excluded by the others, but I was nice and became their friend," making the very core of that desire kindness. A sense of fairness, a refusal of rejection even if everyone else was doing it; then the willingness to reach out, to bring them them into his fold. Connection. Friendship. Belongingness.

And see, Tenko himself understood rejection, for he was rejected by his own family - gently, he notes, the house my father built rejected me gently - but it was denial all the same, it decayed him from the inside out; then he understood it to a level that shattered him, when an entire city of people ignored him at his most desperate and vulnerable. Saw him, and decided he wasn't worth helping. A city of people who lived under All Might billboards and touted Heroes as the pillars of their society, who expected, demanded help and saving from Heroes, and yet turned around and did not feel the need to embody those ideals themselves, never even thought to pay it back or forward. The common trash, all too dependent on being protected. And the Heroes themselves? Brave guardians who created the trash that need coddling. They uphold all this. Whatever they believe, whatever genuine and high ideals individual Heroes hold, they have relinquished it to safeguard the system. A corrupt, vicious cycle.

(Even now, Heroes see him and—what happens is this: Possession by All For One has them musing strategically that they rather deal with All For One than Shigaraki; the arena to battle him in is called his Coffin In The Sky. Those jerks who hurt me over and over, he calls the Heroes he fought - and he tells this point blank to Deku. And above all, Heroes would give their lives to save a corpse - already broken and gone, I already destroyed that one - in midst of an urgent war, when years ago on a normal day, they never showed up to reach out a helping hand to a child looking to live on after the end of everything he knew. The dead have their place among the Heroes; but not all of the living. Do they even consider him as part of their world? Not like anybody would even look at me.)

Tenko can't forgive them; Shigaraki won't forgive them.

And these two things are what make up his origin, feeding into each other. It's because he values connections, friendship, belonging, that he refuses to forgive - everything I've witness in this world, lead to the existence of that house...this whole system you've built has always rejected me...Now I'm ready to reject it…; and because he refuses to forgive, he wants to destroy the world to create one where there's nothing but the one enclave of solidarity and belonging he founded - the League of Villains. The future? Unnecessary. Whatever lies ahead, I want them to live how they see fit.

That unforgiving valuation of connection and belonging, though, is also directed at himself. After all, Shigaraki himself rejects the world, rejects having a place in it. It’s not allowed to be part of what comes after his horizon. He does not believe in futures. He killed his family and destroyed any chance of reconciliation. He’s committed atrocities that put a chasm between him and the rest of humanity. Now he rejects being human at all. Shigaraki believes the rejection to be complete both ways, and belongingness to be mutually exclusive. Understanding is no longer on the table. It’s him vs the world; it’s the League vs everyone else; it’s I don’t care if you don’t understand… That’s why we’re Heroes and Villains.

To stop Shigaraki is to save him; and to save him, the key is exactly that origin, the two things most important to him, but remade: forgiveness, and reconnection.

#Shigaraki Tomura #bnha #mha #heroaca #nalslastworkingbraincell

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thanksjro · 5 months

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More Than Meets the Eye #51 — Ten Has Done So Much for All of You, and for What? You Don't Deserve Him.

So, obviously, last issue ended rather poorly for Team Rodimus and Pals. It doesn’t look like the start of this one going much better, as a mass of baddies bombard the late Necrobot’s “Fortress”. Whirl, being Whirl, wants to go out and face his certain death head-on. Everyone else is more than fine to wait for death to come to them.

Rewind, showing off the skills he’s picked up as a videographer over the last several thousand years, gets the security cameras up. I’m assuming that Censere had these installed to keep an eye out for bored space teens who might have wanted to graffiti his millions of plinths. Too bad it didn’t save him, or his property, as outside, Tarn is shooting the ground with his twin fusion cannons. He’s having to hold his arm in place with his other hand, as I’m sure the kickback of firing two lasers at once must be something fierce. He finishes and commands his troops to cease firing, everyone withdrawing.

The Lost Lost Lighters are super jazzed about this, Brainstorm stating that they must have heard about Tailgate’s Power Punch, an attack with a name so banal, it surely must kill anyone who faces it, if only so they don’t talk shit about it after the fact.

Megatron, however, knows what Tarn’s pulling, as he’s a theatre kid, and everyone knows that the really intense theatre kids follow their scripts to a T, and will murder you for trying to ad lib like some filthy fucking improv performer.

By doing this, he’s honoring Shakespeare.

Swerve has begun to bawl like a baby over how bad the situation has gotten, likely recalling all the awful shit he witnessed the last time he crossed paths with the DJD. Magnus, who still has his arm off, because Velocity is all about uplifting her fellow women, demands that they try to call for assistance, then apologizes for swearing, even though he’s absolutely at the very least said “damn” in the past. Maybe he’s confusing the total inability to curse with the IDW publication law that you’re not allowed to say “bitch” until your series has been truncated by 50%. Or maybe he only allows himself to swear in the presence of poor snack management. Anyway, it’s not like it matters— Megatron’s just informed everyone that Tarn also likes to cut the phone lines in situations like this.

All of this, because you wanted middle management for your faction.

Because Megatron never baked any sort of loophole into the DJD’s way of handling shit, because how the fuck could he have possibly known he’d one day have to denounce his entire reason for existing to satisfy the commercial whims of Hasbro, the gang is going to have to figure out some way to defend themselves or escape in the next eight hours. Rodimus orders everyone to split up and look for clues, blowing off Ten in the process.

Velocity calls Swerve, the closest thing to a doctor besides her, to come look at the Necrobot’s corpse, which appears to have turned into a pile of ash. Swerve informs her that this is what happens when someone who’s old as balls kicks it. Now, it may concern you that Velocity, who was the only doctor for a ship of over 200 until this morning, doesn’t know what a dead old man looks like. However, we must recall that age-related spark burnout hasn’t been a thing until very recently for Cybertronians, and Caminus, the colony Velocity is from, is marginally younger as a society. It probably just hasn’t happened in her circles yet.

Velocity and Swerve play around in the pile of old man dust, until she pulls a key out, with “1/001” written on it. Her search party will be focusing on finding what this key goes to, as it was surely important, given that it was on Censere’s person at the time of his death.

Over on the DJD’s ship, The Peaceful Tyranny, Deathsaurus stares at the corpses Tarn’s nailed to the wall of his room. The nails have Decepticon insignias on the heads, because of course they do. These are the same corpses Tarn had on the wall of his office in Grindcore. Tarn asks if Deathsaurus is impressed with his first editions, and when Deathsaurus is understandably bewildered by this question, Tarn explains that these are corpses that were sent home after dying in the mines of Messatine, who had Megatron’s writing etched into their organs by Terminus, so that said writing would reach the outside world. Tarn thinks it’s pretty fucking cool, but Deathsaurus is, again, bewildered by this interior design choice. In general, Deathsaurus is bewildered by a vast majority of the ways Tarn chooses to live his life.

Tarn, opening the mouth section of his mask to drink a shot’s worth of energon, likely totally unable to see as he does so, since the eye holes don’t line up anymore, says that if Deathsaurus was a true intellectual like Tarn was, he’d understand that trying to chase down a ship with quantum jump capabilities is really difficult when you no longer have a sneaky little double agent to give you exact coordinates, so grounding their targets was the best option. No word on how Tarn feels about the ship he super-nightmare-death-murdered being perfectly fine now.

Deathsaurus really just wants to know why they backed off after having their targets cornered, because he hates Tarn and his stupid little games, having been working with him for at least a couple months by this point. Tarn, however, has the audacity to be smug about how all the Autobots are probably tearing each other apart out of fear, as the sun makes its way across the sky.

Back with Velocity’s search party, Nautica’s joined the one-and-a-half doctors in the Key Quest. Velocity asks Swerve about why Ten came down with the rest of the group, and in Swerve’s defense, it’s not like anyone knew this was a murder trip until after they’d arrived. When the brain attack happened last issue, Swerve hadn’t disclosed what exactly he’d heard— now, however, he admits that he’d gotten an earful from Ten about the Ambus Test, and how just because he’s made up of the corpses of multiple religious hermits doesn’t mean he isn’t a person too, and also once that union gets going, he’s gonna sic lawyer-mode Magnus on him.

Anyway, they found the door that key went to.

Back with Rodimus in the main room, he’s collecting the notes of all the other search teams. Rung’s face has been shaded to look like he got lip fillers. Rodimus isn’t pleased, but it isn’t because of Rung’s gotten work done.

Nightbeat, however, DOES have good news to pair off with the bad. News so good he starts using metaphors, which confuses and frightens Magnus. Nightbeat has found the quantum travel device the Necrobot used to travel to the deaths he recorded, and what do you know? It’s got just enough juice to get everyone out of dodge and into the loving embrace of safety. Hooray! Time to form an orderly queue, going from most to least obnoxious paint job.

Then Team Killjoy shows up, Velocity and Nautica letting everyone know what’s behind door #1: it’s a bunch of organics in stasis.

I will say, the inverse of Transformers fans collecting robot toys mint in package is decidedly more disturbing.

Whirl isn’t horribly keen to die over a bunch of squishy nobodies. Nautica states that the organics are vulnerable and need protection. Skids, really wanting to be in that straight-passing relationship, agrees that the DJD will totally kill these guys, because they learned their technoism from SOMEONE MEGATRON. Chromedome, who has had his husband back for maybe six months at this point, really doesn’t want to stick around for the sun to set. Cyclonus asks just why the fuck there’s a bunch of dudes in the basement. Tailgate wonders if it really matters, considering the situation at hand. Magnus, needing direction in his life, makes sure that Rodimus hasn’t decided to take a nap standing up like a horse. Brainstorm, who has been oh-so-subtly trying to edge the door to the quantum tube shut, makes the point that they could do a lot of good after the fact, if they left now and then vowed to protect a slew of organics afterwards, which would eventually even out their sins, probably.

Rodimus feels pretty good about this proposal, but he loves looking like the most appealing, middle-of-the-road choice, and says that they have some time to talk this out. However, we’ve forgotten that we’re riding with Mr. Ex-Peace Through Tyranny, who does nothing in half-measures and loves to be contrarian to Rodimus at every given opportunity.

This turn of events is such a shock to Rodimus, he shouts at Ten for trying to show him something. Poor Ten.

Rodimus reminds Megatron just what exactly they’re up against and what he’s signing himself up for and for what variety of living creature, but Megatron is aware of all of these things. Looks like the talking to Skids gave him on the duplicate Lost Light finally sank through his thick skull, and he’s ready to be a big boy about this whole Autobot thing. He then informs everyone that he’s not doing this to make a point, and that anyone who wants to dip is welcome to do so, as long as they’re doing it for themselves.

Of course, it’ll be a cold day in hell before any Autobot lets Megatron out-Autobot them, and it’ll be an even colder day before Cyclonus leaves his not-boyfriend alone on Murder Planet. Oh, and the fact that organic life is just as valuable as mechanical. Totally. Everyone defaults to stay, Rodimus closing the door to the quantum tube.

Swerve then offers a real heel-clicker of an alternate escape plan: what if… we just stole the DJD’s ship, stuffed it full of the organics, and flew away before anyone noticed? Now, this is, of course, an immaculate plan, which no man could ever find fault in, but Whirl is not a man, but rather a machine, and does question where exactly they’d be getting the keys to such a ship. Cyclonus is trying to be a bit more of a supportive friend to Swerve, since the last time the guy felt left out, they all had to project their consciousnesses 400 miles out and pay NYC rent, asks if there is more to this perfect, perfect plan, crafted in one of the finest minds of any generation.

There is not.

So, we’re gonna steal a ship.

Ravage offers to track the smell of unwashed bachelors and Megatron body pillows to see where the DJD parked. Rodimus gives him his blessing, marveling at the skillset at his disposal, as Magnus makes a fucking wild face of incredulousness and Ten sulks in the corner.

Before he runs off, Ravage brings Megatron a phone and asks that he talk to Tarn, because surely if anyone can get him off the warpath, it would be his old boss.

Back at the Peaceful Tyranny, Tarn, Deathsaurus, Nickel, Tesarus, and Vos are going over the plan for the day. Sure hope Deathsaurus can parse Primal Vernacular. Tesarus reminds Tarn of the time they went after Heretech and he turned a storm shield into a forcefield that held them off for days, but this band of Autobot nerds aren’t Heretech, now are they? Even if they do have an ex-Wrecker, a Skids, and the power of love on their side.

Then Tarn tells everyone to shut the fuck up, because he’s getting a call on his electric razor.

Back at the “Fortress”, Megatron stands astride the space scooter, looking horribly depressed, as he prepares to have a little chat with his most murderous fanboy. Rodimus questions this decision, having clocked that even on his best day, Megatron wouldn’t just whole-heartedly decide to effectively kill himself for the sake of 50-60 organics he doesn’t even know.

Of course, we’ve seen that at least one planet in the Magisterian system still has life, as the Scavengers had to use holomatter avatars at some point, as seen in issue #45. Perhaps if Megatron knew about this, he wouldn’t be so keen to go on a suicide mission.

Over with Ravage, he passes by Skids’s plinth, which I’m sure isn’t an omen of any kind, and discovers that the smell of B.O. and hot pockets he was following wasn’t attached to the Peaceful Tyranny, but rather a base the DJD and Deathsaurus’s boys threw together. Also, Ten’s been crawling after him in an attempt to keep hidden this whole time, over what was likely multiple miles. He didn’t do a good job in the slightest, but points for tenacity, buddy. Ravage understands that Ten’s just trying to help in some form or fashion, so Ravage gives him a special job: bullet sponge.

Deathsaurus’s men, Helex, Kaon, and the Pet all see Ten up on the hill. Kaon in particular looks very excited at the promise of a plaything, so much so that he lets his rabid little chihuahua off-leash.

Meanwhile, Megatron races across his personal field of spark flowers, on his way to rendezvous at his plinth with Tarn. I wonder who suggested this meeting spot? When Megatron arrives, he demands that Tarn at least face him with his, well, face, but Tarn says that his mask IS his face, even though we know it isn’t, because Tarn couldn’t commit to the bit hard enough on this particular front for some reason.

Megatron offers himself up for surrender. But enough about his crisis of morality, let’s get back to Ten.

Ten, former Legislator that he is, fights valiantly, throwing four guys in the air at once, even as the Pet scratches his collar bone and Helex punches him in the head, his face telling me that he’s gonna do horny mouth shit with Ten’s brain if he manages to get ahold of it. Kaon’s in the background, shooting electricity into the sky. I think he’s just happy to be here. This nonsense up on the hill allows Ravage to sneak over to the base to check for a ship that DOESN’T smell like wine, jockstraps, and viscera.

Back with the Autobots, someone finally remembers that Ten’s a person, and asks where the hell he’s gotten to. Magnus isn’t sure, though he knows where he HAD been. I expect better from you, Magnus. Ten is your little buddy! Your brother in artistic arms! He even left something for your enjoyment, while he went out to help Ravage!

After having solved the issue of their defense system, Ten went out and got his ass shredded for multiple pages, where he was repeatedly shot and set on fire and torn limb from limb and electrocuted (I guess someone finally pointed Kaon in the right direction). It seems like the end for Ten, but his assailants are suddenly shot and dealt with, blanketing the hill in silence.

Silent enough to hear the equivalent of twenty USD in Australian dollaridoos, having been converted into English pounds, rustling around in a British guy’s wallet.

#transformers #jro #mtmte #the dying of the light #issue 51 #maccadam #hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

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