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tiredmamaissy · 6 months

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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode IV

Seed of Life

This is @zestys-stuff 's OC. All credits to this character goes to this beautiful, talented artist. Thank you again for allowing me to explore and create with him!

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, fluff, angst, early pregnancy smut (will be forewarned before it happens), daddy daughter drama, Ralak being little rough because reader won’t stop teasing him, Ralak literally has blue balls, ball play, blowjob, brief thigh fucking, likely incorrect na’vi, teacher/student dynamics/roleplay, p in v, quickie, squirting, masturbation, dirty talk, sexual tension, age gap

Disclaimer: This chapter entails pregnancy and sexual intimacy during early pregnancy. I include a warning directly before the smut happens in the case that you want to indulge in this chapter but aren’t necessarily up for the pregnancy smut.

Word Count: 10k sorry

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: thank you guys for always being so patient with me. i love yall too the moon and back <3 happy holidays and a happy new year! also, I’ve realised that I unintentionally decided that Kiri is not involved in this series (i dunno honestly, it’s just occuring to me that I’ve never really mentioned her before and it feels difficult to incorporate her at this point i suppose). It seems like we (reader) have taken her place in this au in regards to being jakes adopted ‘babygirl’ (nothing else though—no superpowers or anything loool).

Synopsis: After telling Ralak that he's going to be a father, the reality dawns on you that you need to break the news to your own father.

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This pregnancy shouldn’t be much of a surprise to you, honestly. How could you not be? After such a breeding it would be a miracle if you weren’t pregnant. Yet the news wasn’t quite sinking in, even when Tsireya looked at you with wide eyes and spelled it out for you. But now that you’re walking towards the tsahìk, you’re faced with reality and it begins to sink in as you count each step you take.

Forty-two…

The words that rolled off the tarsem’s tongue echo in your skull.

Forty-three…

Etching themselves into the bone, leaving you with no space to deny the truth.

Forty-four…

“You are with child.”

The ringing in your ears stops as your vision refocuses on the stone cold expression of the Tsahìk. Her voice is unfaltering and clear as it delivers the news to your ears a second time. Bowing to the taller woman, you sweep three fingers away from your forehead and turn your heel to walk away. But before you can take two steps she announces something that makes your ears stand tall.

“A boy.”

Her two harshly spoken words strike through your chest, a sinking feeling now brewing in the pit of your stomach. You stop dead in your tracks and lift your head that was once tilted down to your feet. Things become even more real, having you force down a wad of your spit to keep your vision from splitting again. You’re barely able to use your voice—your mouth partially open and your tongue rolling from the churn of your tummy.

“Thank you, Ronal.” You manage to squeak a decibel or two over a whisper, dropping your head again to lock your stare to your feet before fleeing the now-crowding scene. You overhear the people murmuring the news as you scurry away to your marui pod.

‘The forest girl expects the firstborn of the village’s best warrior’;

‘She won’t make it out alive!’;

‘Did you hear? She will birth the first of a new kind. A kind with demon blood’.

If your legs could go any quicker, they would.

A child grows in your womb now. A child for the man you love—Ralak. The man who deserves it most. You’re scared and excited all at once. Proud to bear a son for such a notable and fearsome man. But afraid of how your family will take to the news.

This was your first month of being a mated pair, and you’ve already succumbed to your most primordial instinct to mate. And with what everyone is already whispering, you’re scared of much more than that. Is what they say true? Is this a risky thing? Will he be teased for being different? Will he be rejected from the clan?

Does Ralak… even want this?

You both hadn’t even sat down and spoken about the possible consequences of such a cosmic event—your synced cycles. What if he hadn’t meant all the things he said? Or if he really just couldn’t prevent the things that he did during his rut? How would he react if that were the case?

Your mind is running at a hundred clicks an hour and your nerves are wringing your stomach that it takes the hot sand spilling through the cracks of your toes to make you realise that you’re already home.

And there he is, in all his glory.

Doing nothing other than sharpening his damn spear. Sitting on his knees, leaned back with his flexed abs and gathered brows, concentrating on his task—blissfully unaware of the gossip spreading throughout the clan. The sight brings serenity to the white noise in your head, leaving nothing but the crash of the waves and the splash of the ilus off in the distance. I

Ralak’s ears twitch as he senses your presence, but he remains focused on the stroke of his whetstone against the blade. He can feel your apprehension from where he sits, and he can already tell what you’re here for. Yet he chooses to keep his appearance no less than stoic, but not enough to be intimidating.

“Tanhì.” He hums low enough that you strain to hear him.

“I need to speak with you.” You utter, wetting your dry lips with a quick swipe of your tongue. You stand there fidgeting with your fingers as you await a reply from your husband. It’s almost mortifying how silent this man can actually be. You see the slight tilt of his head and his ear perk up to listen closely. Taking this as your cue to speak, you try to find the words to say.

How do I say this?

Ralak is a simple man, perhaps it’s better to give it to him straight. An easy, ‘I carry your unborn son’, would do, right? You begin to gnaw on the dry skin on your bottom lip as you think. But his silence is really getting to you today. How can he sit there so… unbothered? Not even a glance thrown your way or an eyelash batted. Maybe you should just spit it out — ‘you got me pregnant’.

“Hm?” He lets out a muffled grunt, swiping the whetstone against the spearhead. It sounds innocent. Like he’s just immersed in a task and couldn’t quite bring himself to completely stop.

“We no longer need to prepare for my heat.” You blurt out, not even knowing where the words came from. You witness his spine straighten and him quickly stilling his movements.

Little did you know his heart gallops at the speed of a direhorse, thumping wildly between his ribs as he prepares himself to finally hear you utter the words. Oh, how he had been waiting for your sweet voice to sing the news. But he realises that you seem to need an extra push to say them.

“And why is that?” Ralak husks, still unmoving.

You wait for him to turn around. To look your way. Something.

But… nothing.

“I’m pregnant.”

Ralaks heart skips a beat and his breath catches in his throat. A grin spreads from ear to ear, so strong and wide that if you were really paying attention you would have caught the way his ears stand at full height.

But you were too busy fighting the bubble of the blood in your thumping heart, trying to keep your frustration to a minimum. You had expected more. For him to turn around, at the very least. All you could hear was the da-dump and the silence between you two. Until you couldn’t take it anymore.

Perhaps it’s all the hushed chatter from earlier or maybe it’s just the new surge of hormones and out-of-whack pheromones but you can’t help the burn of your eyes as they fill with tears.

“So w-what? Not even a glance my way? You knock me up and have nothing to s-say for it?” You choke back your heated tears of frustration, Ralak now huffing a vehement sigh. “You’re not even surprised, or—” Your blubbering is cut short by your husband's quick movement.

Ralak instantaneously brings himself to his feet and storms over to you, towering over your petite frame. Now he’s peering down at you, dark, smouldering eyes holding the most intimidating gaze with you as he closes the distance between your bodies. He’s still damp from seeing to the ilus this morning that when your chest touches his cold, bare stomach, it hardens your nipples into stiff peaks.

“Surprised?” He rasps, his large hand flying to your lower stomach, gently pressing into it. Heaving shoulders slowing as he steadies his breathing, Ralak lowers his head to brush his lips against the shell of your ear—

“Do you not think I had every intention of putting this baby inside of you?”

Hearing this spoken in such an assertive tone sends shivers up your spine—Ralak knows exactly how to handle you and your… sensitivity. He always has. Your tail sways uncontrollably behind you, earning a well concealed smirk from the giant before you. It’s always been one of his favourite parts of you, but now—oh, now he has a new favourite part of you.

Your soon-to-be swelling belly.

“I have known.” He admits through a whisper, smoothing his entire palm over your budding womb, planting a quick kiss on your temple. “Your scent… it has changed, tanhì.”

“What?” You whisper, almost pulling away from his tender touches to look at him. “And you didn’t say anything?”

“I wanted to hear you say it. I have been waiting… to hear you say it.” He’s the one to pull away this time, looking you deeply in the eyes. His free hand raises, using his thumb to wipe away a tear seeping from the corner of your eye. “Please. Do not cry.”

You don’t even know what to say. Yet again, Ralak leaves you speechless—with trembling lips and a swelling throat.

“And you are actually eating the payoang niktsyey [fish wraps] I cook.”

“What?” You snort, letting loose a sudden, nasally giggle. You drop your smile and try to fix a serious expression on your face. “What do you mean? I always eat your payoang niktsyey [fish wraps]”

Ralak laughs, his three fingers tucking hair behind your ear, “I see you throw them to the ilus, tanhì. I am no fool.”

You laugh again, snotty-nosed and teary-eyed, sniffling when the uncontrollable giggling fit ends. “It seems that our son enjoys your cooking, ‘lak.” You bubbler with a wobbly smile, blinking harshly to clear your vision.

Ralaks eyes bulge as they frantically search yours—a beaming smile spreading across his lips, his pointed teeth on full display. “Son?” He exhales softly, his left brow bone jumping ever so slightly.

All you can do is nod, letting your wobbly smile morph into a grin. The tears come back like they never left, twice as much and even hotter than before. You swear you see Ralaks eyes gloss over too, glistering in the sunlight.

Ralak sinks to his knees, coming face to face with your soft tummy.

“My prrnen [baby]. My ‘evengan [son; boy child]. It is your sempu [daddy].” He whispers, heated lips slightly pressed against your silken skin. Chin tucked to your chest, you watch in awe, straining to listen to his hushed whispers. “I have wanted you for so long.”

Hearing that—oh, how hearing that makes you feel. You feel warm inside, your heart so full all your earlier fears melt away. Ralak looks up at you, azure blue eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration—gratitude and admiration.

“My sweet tanhì. You have made me the man I have always wanted to be.” He croons at you, planting a long, soft kiss on your stomach—eyes still locked with yours. “And I thank you for that. Nìt’iluke [forever; never-endingly]”

And just like that, the butterflies you felt when you first laid eyes on this man come rushing in, flapping their wings at full force.

“I am your mate.” You sputter out a little, tiny sob. “It’s what I-I am supposed to do.”

Ralak stands up, holding eye contact with you the entire way.

“You owe me nothing. It is an honour that you carry my unborn, y/n.” His hand leaves your stomach to grasp your hand, intertwining his thickset fingers with yours. “You will be a nawm [great] mother.”

“And you will be the best father.” You choke back your sobs, struggling to get your words out. A comfortable silence passes, where you both immerse yourselves into one another’s touch. Until Ralak witnesses your expression morph into something of worry.

“What is it?” He asks in a hushed voice, keeping his tone calm and cool.

“Speaking of… fathers.” The column of your throat undulates when you gulp hard, “How will I tell mine?”

Ralak swallows, too. The thought had crossed his mind a few times over the past week. He saw the answer as simple – tell him. Ralak holds a lot of respect for your father, looking up at him as a superior given his status and skill as a warrior. And although he’s slightly intimidated by your father, Ralak sees this respect as mutual—therefore, it should be returned. Surely, this will go smoothly if you both remain polite.

Right?

“We tell him. Together.” Ralak grasps your hand once more, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze, his heavy accent shining through now that he’s high on emotions, “I keep you safe. Both of you.”

——

Both you and Ralak make your way down the shore towards the webbing of overlapping mangrove roots. Though you insisted on breaking the news to your family by yourself, he was adamant that he accompanies you. You couldn’t bear the thought of your father lashing out on Ralak, especially in front of the others. You tried to explain that to him, but he simply shook his head and tightened the clasp of his saya (knife sheath) on his hip.

You make the trek by foot, wanting a little more time to think about what you were going to say, and he ensured to stay right behind you. Quite literally—looming behind you like some sort of bodyguard. Every na’vi you pass are quick to avert their gaze elsewhere when they see the giant you have as a shadow. They tried not to look to begin with, but it was a rare sight to see you two so close together among the clan.

Their hushed whispers are kept to an absolute minimum but Ralak hears them nonetheless. It doesn’t bother him. Not anymore, at least. It used to bother him before he had met you—hearing the chatter of the gossip about his voluntary six year celibacy despite being the chief’s right hand man. And now that the murmurs entail nothing but his relationship with you, he could care less.

But then he hears the indistinct mumble about the babe budding in your womb. It’s something along the lines of ‘it being some demon hybrid’. The comment alone has Ralak screeching to a halt, his head snapping in the direction of a stocky, young warrior in training. One that Tonowari had relentlessly urged Ralak to teach until he begrudgingly gave him a couple combat lessons.

Ralak’s eyes narrow and sharpen, snapping down to shoot a threatening leer down at him. That's all it took for the stumpy na’vi to drop his head in shame and scurry away with his younger companions.

Sensing that Ralak is no longer on your tail, you turn around, half-expecting him to be five steps behind. Instead, he’s right where you left him, with a reassuring smile and an extended hand gesturing you to ‘continue’. You return a light hearted smile and spin around, taking another step towards your family marui.

——

“To what do we owe the visit?” Neteyam smiles as he greets you at the marui door, arms splayed out for a hug. You smile and slump into your brother, allowing him to envelope you in a warm embrace. “We haven’t seen you in what feels like weeks, sis.”

“Because we haven’t.” Lo’ak adds, lurking behind his bigger brother, arms crossed over his chest with a grin on his face.

“Hey Lo’.” You say in a low voice, smiling at him as you let go of your big brother. Ralak silently stands at the marui door, head awkwardly tilted in an attempt to fit himself in such a tight space.

“Hey, sissy.” Lo’ak throws an arm around your neck, patting your shoulder a few times as he walks you further inside and away from Ralak. “What’s up with the shadow?” He doesn’t even try to quieten his voice as he nudges his chin in your husband's direction.

You force a little laugh, unwrapping his arm from around your neck so you can inch away back to your ‘shadow’. You back up until you bump into his solid build, making a muffled thump when you collide. He steadies you by the shoulders, lidded eyes flicking down to check that you’re okay. He can sense your nervousness.

“I–we… have something to tell you guys.” You begin, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Where’s everyone else?”

Lo’ak’s eyes squint, brows furrowing as the gears in his brain grind twice as fast to figure out what you could possibly be calling a family meeting for. “No fucking way. Already?” He blurts out when he finally puts two and two together. Your eyes widen when they dart over to him, catching sight of the shit eating grin plastered to his face.

Fuck, is this skxawng going to spoil it for me? You think to yourself, apparently loud enough for Ralak to hear. He squeezes your shoulders before sliding his hands down the full length of your arms and letting go. “Mawey [calm].” He breathes, his head still hanging low. You look behind you, tilting your head up to meet his comforting gaze.

“Hey, babygirl.” Jake’s voice snaps your attention back down, having you look your father in the eye. His smile is as wide as his arms as he approaches you for a hug.

“Dad. Hey.” You whisper, returning the hug and snuggling into his chest. You bask in the moment, lingering onto how things are now—before you drop the bomb on him.

“I missed ya.” Jake chuckles, rubbing your back. He finally lifts his head and sees your ‘shadow’ hovering a little closer than needed. “Jeez, let her breathe, boy. She’s just huggin’ her old man.” Ralak keeps his head hung and takes a small but noticeable step back. Jake gives you a quick peck on the head as he begins to pull away. “What have ya’ been up—”

Jake cuts himself short, leaning back in to smell your hair. His eyebrows gather when he recognizes the familiar scent. Neytiri has smelled similarly a few times before. Jake grinds his teeth, scrunched brows and narrow eyes giving away his current state of mind. His hands slide down your arms, gripping then as he looks you dead in the eye. “Y/n. You got somethin’ to tell me?”

“Dad–” You swallow down the knot in your throat, already getting choked up.

Jake's lips purse into a thin line as his death-stare immediately averts to Ralak. And for what feels like an eternity, nothing but silence fills the room. The tension in the air is almost suffocating. Jakes eyeing Ralak down whilst Ralaks stare is locked on the way he’s holding you.

You glance over at your brothers. One’s obviously got it figured out, arms crossed, shaking his head with a smug look on his face. And one is completely clueless—poor thing. You look back at your father who is now seething, leer averted back to you as he exerts all his energy into being patient.

“What’s going on? Guys?” Neteyam breaks the silence with a worried tone to his voice. His eyes bounce from person to person, until they land on his brother.

“He knocked her up.” Lo’aks whispers harshly, not even trying to be discreet. Neteyams brows raise and now he is, too, staring at you. You feel all the blood drain from your face and suddenly you’re extremely light in the head.

Mortified is an understatement.

Everyone is clearly waiting for you to confirm it. But you’re having such a difficult time saying the two silly little words. The pressure is on now, you could even see Ralak straining to hold his tongue. You finally muster up a cowardly nod, and immediately your fathers grip intensifies, squeezing your arms firm and tight. He’s looking down at you with eyes of disbelief and somewhat disappointment, frantically searching yours to see if this is really the truth. You let loose a low hiss, wincing when you feel the pinch of his grip.

Not even another second passes when you hear the slap of your husband’s large hands grabbing ahold of your father’s wrists.

“She is pregnant.”

A deep, but low growl rips from Ralaks chest. In other words, ‘never lay your hands on a pregnant woman’. Ralak dwarfs Jake as he inches in a little closer, grasping his wrists just firm enough to send this message.

“Yeah. Got it, bud.” Jake returns a growl through his teeth and tightened lips. He shifts his position slightly, eyes flicking down to acknowledge what his son in law is trying to get across. Nonetheless, Jake stands his ground. “Get your hands off me.”

Ralak tries to regain his composure, but his protective instincts have just about gone haywire. The urge to protect has never been so intense before. It’s like his soul knows that there’s just more to protect.

More at stake.

Ralak looks down at your fathers hands once more, silently making his point clear. He holds eye contact with Toruk makto whilst he remains unmoving.

“Lak…” You squeak a warning to your husband, who only flutters his jaw as a response. Lo’ak and Neteyam are on edge, both concerned that their father has a grip on you, but even more so that Ralak has a grip on their father. They watch intently, trying to decipher if and when they need to intervene.

To everyone’s surprise, Jake exhales harshly through his nose and gently pulls away from you, but wrenches his wrists away from Ralak’s grasp. “Sorry, kid.” Jake spits an apology, readjusting his position to be directly in front of Ralak. “Care to explain how this happened so damn quick?”

“Dad!” You shout in disbelief, wedging yourself back in between the two.

“You know what? Don’t even answer that.” Jake snaps.

“You know you are really no one to talk! Where’s mom? Mom!” You go on the tips of your toes, leaning from side to side to look for her behind both the two male na’vi.

“‘xcuse me?” Jake purposely blocks your view by bobbing his head wherever yours goes. “I am still your father and you will not speak to me that—” Jake steps to the left to avoid Ralak and walk towards you. Ralak quickly adjusts himself to be the wall between you and your father, not allowing Jake the chance to even finish his sentence. Ralak is now looking down at Jake with a stoic expression, trying his best not to come off intimidating or challenging in any way.

All to no avail.

“You got a problem with me, boy?” Jake grumbles through his clenched jaw, getting in Ralaks face now.

“No. Only keeping my word, sir.” Ralak simply responds.

Jakes brought back to the very moment he made Ralak give him his word. His word that he’d never let a thing happen to his baby girl. The night you completed your iknimaya. The night he granted Ralak the permission to mate with you.

The night Ralak took your virginity.

Jake stalls for a few seconds, taken aback by Ralaks behaviour but a little impressed at the same time. Jake's expression softens upon realizing that Ralak is just protecting his mate—just as he does Neytiri, especially during her pregnancies.

But there’s no way in hell that Jake will be the first one to back down here.

“Mom!” You call for her once more, hoping that she’ll swoop in and save the day.

Neytiri rushes in, hand on her hip where she keeps her dagger sheathed—worry and concern etched into her features. She analyses the situation, taking in the scene of her own mate standing face to face with yours. She glances over at you, seeing the panic in your eyes and the hand on your stomach that you didn’t even know you had placed there. Slowly walking up to the two male na’vi, she places a firm hand on her mates chest, pushing him away from Ralak. “Ma’ Jake. What is happening here?”

Jake’s pressing his lips firmly together, not wanting to say the words. He shakes his head a little, huffing through his nostrils before placing a hand on his hip. His other hand extends in your direction, as if he were pointing out the obvious. Yet he remains choked up and speechless, his hand falling to his thigh as he gives up.

Finally, he mumbles, “Go on. Tell her.”

Neytiri looks back at you, eyes trailing back down to your hand that’s mindlessly resting on your stomach as she awaits for your answer. You feel the burn of her eyes, yanking away your hand when it becomes too much. Being the daughter of Mo’at, a tsahik, Neytiri needed nothing more than a quick glance and sniff to know what’s going on. “Is this true?”

“Yes, mom. It is true. I am.” You say in a defeated tone of voice. Ralak shifts himself, settling close beside you now rather than in front of you. He always had an even greater respect for your mother.

Neytiri’s expression only grows softer, until there's no trace of concern left in her face. Her smile is downturned but her eyes are bright, glistening with joy as she pulls you in for a warm embrace.

“It is a blessing from Eywa, my child.”

She pulls away from you, now looking over to Ralak. Neytiri lays a gentle hand on Ralaks upper bicep, “Seykxel sì nitram [congratulations] .” Ralak signs ‘I see you’ to his mother in law, exchanging a light hearted smile with her.

It was no secret that Neytiri longed to be a grandmother. Her days of children are over now, although she was expecting her eldest, Neteyam, to give her a grandchild first. But Ralak — Ralak is a remarkable, mighty warrior and hunter. The olo’eyktans right hand man, and undoubtedly the best fisherman in the village.

In fact, Ralak was one of the first people Neytiri took a liking to after she adjusted to the way of water. She always felt that he was a good suitor for her daughter.

“Are you kiddin’ me? It’s barely been two months!” Jake scoffs, shaking his head.

“And a day for us, Jake.” Neytiri tries her best to keep a calm, but firm voice. “They are a mated pair, they are having a family now. It is Eywa’s will.”

Jake quiets himself, reflecting on his harsh ways. He sighs, loudly. His eyes finally glance down to what everyone in the room has been looking at, now staring at your protective hand that mindlessly lay over your womb once again. He grits his teeth, averting his stare to the ground, eyeing the charred wood of the fire pit. His tongue clicks as he parts his lips, muttering—

“I know… I know, alright? She’s just—” He looks up at Neytiri, then Ralak, and then you. “She’s my babygirl.”

It’s his way of saying, ‘I just want to protect my family.’

“Dad. I am but—but I’m not your baby anymore. I’m not a kid.” You croak, finding it hard to hold eye contact with him. “Your grandson is the new baby of this family.”

Jake tries to fight the way his eyebrows scrunch together, it was like hearing about the news of his firstborn son all over again. He exhales slowly, nodding his head and extending his arms to hold you. His warmth envelopes you completely, leaving no room for any cold or harsh thoughts and feelings to linger.

“You keep ‘em safe.” Jake's chin presses into the crown of your head as he mutters the words to Ralak. Ralak had always had a hard time understanding Jake's native slang, but this he understood— loud and clear.

“Always.” Ralak answers firmly.

Your safety has been, is and will always be his number one priority.

Jake nods once, squeezing you a little tighter before letting go fully. “Seykxel sì nitram [congratulations], you two.”

“Thank you, dad.” You smile whilst Ralak bows his head. Neteyam and Lo’ak finally come over for their hugs, making a comment of their own as they release you from their grasps.

“I’m gonna teach him everything I know.” Lo’aks grin is unnerving and a little sinister, giving away the trouble that he’s already trying to get your son into.

“Please don’t.” You joke back with your brother, even though you’re being dead serious.

Neteyam jabs an elbow into his brother's rib cage, disciplining him for his mischief. “Agh — do not worry, Uncle TeTe will keep him in check.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” You say softly with a smile on your face, “‘Uncle TeTe’. I like that.”

“Hey, don’t forget about ‘Uncle Lo’Lo’.” Lo’ak chimes in.

“Eh. Doesn’t have the same ring to it, you know? What do you think, lak?” You jester, looking up at him to be met with a slight smirk.

“Very… hiyìk [strange; funny].” Ralaks smirk pulls at his lips a little more. “But, at least it is not ‘ak’-ak’.”

You swear you hear a little chuckle from everyone in the room. All except Lo’ak, who is staring at Ralak with a deadpan expression, arms crossed defensively over his chest. It feels like an eternity passes until Lo’ak finally booms with laughter, extending his arm out to Ralak, who gaily reciprocates and meets Lo’aks’ with a smack.

“I like this bodyguard of yours, y/n. He actually has a sense of humour.”

You let loose a scoff and roll your eyes, about ready to wrap this whole thing up and lie down in bed. It’s seemingly obvious, seeing that everyone is giving you space as they take note of your restless body language and bowed shoulders.

“If you are tired, you should rest.” Neytiri advises, just as you feel Ralaks hand tuck under your arm to support your weight. “Your body is working hard right now.”

“Yeah, mom. I think I need to lie down for a little.” You mumble, leaning into your mate a little more.

Your family practically ushers you out, encouraging you to get some rest and to get off your feet. Ralak walks close to you on the way home, keeping with the pace you set to the tee — only intervening with a hand to your hip when necessary.

And when you finally slump into bed, your eyelids flutter shut before Ralak can settle himself beside you.

——smut warning——

You rouse to Ralak drawing the curtain of your marui, blocking out the orange hue of the last eclipse. It dawns on you that you’ve slept out most of the day. You didn’t even realise you were so tired to begin with.

“You should have woken me earlier. I slept out the day.” You mumble, sitting up in bed and lightly kicking off the sheets.

Ralak turns around, surprised that you’re awake. He curses himself under his breath; he was hoping to keep you sleeping by drawing the curtains but instead he did the opposite.

“You needed to rest.” He says, making his way over to sit on the edge of the bed. “You have been more tired recently.”

“Yeah?” You snort, “…and what else have I been, sir know-it-all?”

Ralak chuckles, his eyes falling to your stomach. “…a little more hungry.”

You smile a little, remembering his fish wrap comment from earlier.

But then you witness his half-lidded eyes glaze over with something of… wanton. It takes a second to realise that they’re no longer staring at your belly. They’re staring at your tewng [loincloth]. More specifically, the mound imprinting it.

It’s the way your pussy is being so tightly squeezed by the thin cloth covering it. It’s the one thing that Ralak can’t help himself from indulging in admiring. Then his eyes snap away, unexpectedly meeting yours. The stare he’s giving you has your thighs rubbing together and your lower tummy tingling.

“…a little more tempting.” His voice is thick like honey, laced with lust and arousal.

In every way. From the way you fill out your top more, to your scent—you’re becoming more

irresistible the farther along you progress. Your heart beats a little harder between your ribs as you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. His lecherous gaze is fixed, blue eyes piercing into yours. It’s been too long since he’s been inside you that it aches.

But he’s been patient.

Especially since the day he figured out you were pregnant. With the way you smelt he found it hard to keep his distance at times but nonetheless, he did it. But the truth is that you haven’t had penetrative sex since your cycles synced.

To be clear, he took care of you just fine.

Tending to your needs whenever you initiated intimacy with him but he never took it further than his fingers and mouth. After seeing you so battered by his own hands he found it hard to put you in a position that could garner a similar result again.

For a while, he lost trust within himself.

That he no longer had the capacity for self control. Not only did he feel like he didn’t deserve it, but he never expected you to return the pleasure either. He had already taken you on his own terms. Repeatedly.

Ruthlessly.

So when you ate one to many of his payoang niktsyey [fish wraps] — when the new earthiness of your scent wafted past his nose — he knew. He knew it stuck. He knew your womb swelled with his child as each day passed. And the urge to protect only swelled with it.

He became even more gentle with you. Handling you with care when your skin softened and your hips became a little fuller. Ensuring he had excess when he cooked. Weaving an extra thick blanket for you to sleep with when he was off on duty with Tonowari.

It ached most when he’d come home just to see it kicked off onto the floor, with you on your stomach and your leg propped up just right. Your loincloth would always shift to the side, just enough to expose plump folds that innocently peek through the seam of the thin fabric. Fuck, it more than ached. It made him tender. Throbbing in his own tewng.

Just like now.

He dares not to break the steady, intent stare. Or else he may steal another glance at the softness between your thighs. But he can see in your eyes that you feel similarly. You always give him that look before doing something ‘troublesome’. You break eye contact first, your eyes now landing on his tewng.

Fuck.

Your eyes widen a little when you catch sight of the growing, thick bulge in his loincloth. Your gaze locks onto it, taking in every detail. From the thick stripes on his thighs to the way the twine of his loincloth is cutting into his v-lines. You can even see the outline of the crown of his cock.

His stomach rises and falls from his uneven breathing, and his abs pop out one by one as he leans further back—supporting his torso with his arms behind his back. He was never shy about his body, and he certainly isn’t now.

“Then, why do you resist me?” Though it's a question, it doesn’t sound like one when the words drip off your lips. Your voice is soft and feigned with innocence, yet you're shuffling to get on all fours to crawl over to him. You truthfully don’t care for the answer, you knew that it would be the same old song—‘he doesn’t want to hurt you’.

“I hurt you.” He says coldly—simply, glancing at the fading scar on your shoulder as you settle yourself on your knees beside him. He watches as your hand finds purchase on his knee, and slides up his thigh. “And now that you are with child… I—haah”. He’s cut short with a shaky breath and slight jolt when you cup his bulge with a bit of force. He looks down at your hand, dainty and slender, barely grasping half of what’s under his tewng.

“You worry about me too much.” You mumble, more focused on the speed at which his cock pulses at. “Yet still, never yourself.” You feel around, sliding your palm up and down its length, earning a rough exhale from Ralak in return. His lidded eyes dart back over to you, taking in the sight of you almost bent over his lap.

“That so?” His voice is thick and gruff.

“Mhm. ‘m always telling you that, aren’t I?” You hum softly, slowly moving your hand further down between his legs, firmly cupping his balls. They��re heavy in your hand, hot to the touch and—

Eywa.

“They’re swollen.” You whisper breathlessly, your glossy eyes meeting him with concern. They dart back to his crotch, your hand now fumbling with the twine of his tewng, hurriedly trying to unravel the knot to get the suffocating fabric off him.

“‘tis fine.” He winces as he spits out the words, watching you pinch him a little while struggling with the taut material.

Ignoring his words, you continue with your task, a bit more gently now. And when the knot comes undone, the twine falls off his hips and the tewng loosens with it. You tug it off him and see that they’re not only puffed up but also darker in colour. They’re firm and pulled close to his body, perfectly round and stripes well-defined.

Shamefully, it turns you on to see his balls so full.

Just the thought of them being so swollen with his seed that they’re aching and throbbing to empty themselves inside you—fuck, it’s making your teeth grit. You sit back into the dip of your feet and stare as your breathing becomes heavier. The more you look the more you realize that they’re pulling tighter and tighter towards his core. You look up at him, a little surprised. Your arousal is etched into your features and it’s more than obvious in your body language. You want to know how they’d feel in your mouth. How they’d taste.

If they’d even fit.

Without another passing second you bend over his lap, tail high in the air and legs spread—the overpowering scent of your arousal filling the air. You shove your face between his thighs, inhaling deeply his musky scent. You let out a breath of desire, one that sounds nothing short of pleasure and satisfaction. He smells too good. You can’t help yourself but give his firm balls a quick, kitten lick. The giant above you holds back his chuckle, finding your behaviour cute and honestly a little amusing. Feeling like the butt of a joke, you firmly grasp his length and tug it upwards, causing his balls to pull even tighter.

“Y/n.” He hisses your name, adjusting his legs to rid himself of the strained feeling. You wet your lips with a quick swipe of your tongue, and press your cheek against them. They’re hot—heating up a degree higher the more you tease him. Just as you pull your cheek away and manage to fit one of them into your mouth, his hand flies to the back of your head, balling your hair into his fist.

“You need not to—” your tail curls and the tip of it tickles against his chest, “—haah…do this.” Ralak huffs out a sigh of frustration it seems, looking down at you with somewhat of a predatory leer. You pop off with a pwah, catching your breath and turning your head.

You both share an intent stare with one another, one that feels more challenging than anything. He’s insistent that he’s undeserving of this, and you’re insistent that he must be taken care of. His grip loosens on your hair, until he lets you go completely.

“Shh…shh.” You shush him, eyes narrowing as they remain locked onto him. You slowly slide off the bed one leg at a time, sinking to your knees and settling yourself between his legs—now looking up at him with doe-eyes. The sight before you has your heart palpitating, just like the sight of your face so close to his cock has his jaw clenching.

Ralak quiets himself by locking his jaw, waiting patiently to see how this unfolds. It’s the first he’s seen you in this position, on your knees, between his. His cock twitches in excitement as clear, thick beads of precum begin to roll down its length. You swallow thickly at the sight, wrapping your dainty fingers around its girth to pull it close to your flushed lips.

Ralaks ears flutter and his eyelids grow heavy, his chest heaving as he shifts his weight to the palms of his hands—sitting up.

You open your mouth, strings of your saliva connecting your lips together. They break when you lower your head, taking the mushroomy, glistening head of his cock into your mouth. It’s mostly sweet, and a little salty too. The corners of your mouth sting as you accommodate his thickness, and you struggle to open your jaw wide enough to take him further into your mouth.

His head dips forward, eyes slamming shut when he feels your wet, warm tongue press against the underside of his cockhead. His hand flies to your head again, gently cupping the back of your skull as he lets out a strained breath.

Muffled noises vibrate through your nose as you swipe your tongue side to side against his head. It throbs against your tongue each time it hits that sensitive spot right down the middle. You suckle and swipe at the same time, using your hands to pump the rest of his length until you're grunting and snorting for air. You come up, gasping to fill your lungs.

His hand quickly slides from the back of your head to cup the swell of your cheek. His calloused thumb swipes at a bead of saliva rolling down your chin and pops it back into your mouth. “What are you doing, my tanhì?” He whispers the rhetorical question, ensuring his voice is calm and gentle. It sounds as if he’s given up—given in.

Without answering, you take him back into your mouth, locking your jaw once you open it as wide as you possibly can. You stick your tongue out as far as it’ll go and look up at him with eyes that begin to water. He looks down at you with a concerned expression, which morphs into one of astonishment. Your head goes lower and lower, taking inch after inch of his cock down your throat.

The tears in your eyes finally spill over, and your nose begins to burn. Half of his length is down your throat and you can barely breathe, but the more his face grimaces from how good you feel around him, the more of him you urge yourself to take. You hold onto his hips, using them as leverage to shove more of him down your throat.

“Hnng. Easy.” He groans roughly, pushing back against your shoves. “You are pregnaaah—mmn, you will make yourself sick, tanhì.”

Lifting your hand from his hip, you smack away his hand and take him full hilt, his cock hitting the back of your throat, making it bulge. You stop for a second, slowly inhaling through your nose to focus on not gagging. You try moving the back of your tongue, slowly stroking the rest of his length with your hand.

“Ah, shit.” He exhales shakily, his eyes rolling back before squeezing shut. He looks focused, like he’s concentrating on not cumming down your throat right then and there. Lips parted slightly, each breath he takes becomes louder and more raggedy. His thigh muscles tense up and his legs spread a little more, his hand finding its own way to the base of your kuru.

Chest swelling with pride, you begin to bob your head and coat his cock with your sticky spit. The more slippery it gets the harder he has to fight back his choked grunts. The grip he has on your kuru is tightening, as if he were preparing himself to pry you off his cock before he fills your throat.

Suddenly, his head sinks back and his jaw clenches—hard. You could feel it. The way his cock twitches. The way it’s heating up. The way it’s swelling in your mouth. Gurgled noises are escaping past his lips, and he purses them tightly together in attempts to keep himself quiet. His core flexes, and his hips start to stutter. His whole body jolts from how sensitive he’s getting, and finally he thrusts into your mouth, the pointed tip of his cock slamming into the back of your throat.

You silently gag as his hips stammer into you and he’s fucking your throat in frenzied little movements. He’s trying his hardest to be as gentle as he possibly can.m, but your throat is so soft and tight around him. You swallow around his cock as you try to take a breath and suddenly his erratic movements still.

“Y/n.” He lets loose a dying groan as his head slumps forward and his inebriated eyes struggle to open.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

His voice is gravelly and thick with restraint. You love to see him like this—hear him like this. You can’t help the wandering hand that’s making its way down to your soaked tewng. You try to touch yourself through the fabric, but have a hard time finding your clit with it covered like this. Exasperated, you shove your hand under the band of your loincloth and use all four fingers to rub sloppy circles into your puffy clit.

Ralak is too immersed into this to even take note of your desperation. He’s too desperate himself. And if you don’t stop now, he really won’t be able to help himself. He begins tugging you by your queue, trying to pry you away from him. With each hasty swipe of your fingers you suck a little harder, as if you were trying to match your pleasure with your mates’. He pulls at your kuru even harder but you’re unbudging, firmly holding the base of his cock as you relentlessly suckle on the most sensitive part of his tip.

“Stop.” He growls out of breath, finally looking down just to be tipped close to the edge by the sight below him. You look dumb and fucked out with his cock stuffed in your mouth, broken moans vibrating against his length as you franticly touch yourself.

Finally, he yanks you off him with one swift, hard tug, his cock slapping his stomach when it pops out of your mouth. You land on your behind, legs spreading wide open as your fingers work away at your now throbbing clit.

“Why? Can’t handle it?” You taunt him between pants and breathy, hoarse moans. Rather than answering he looks down at you with a cocked brow, kuru still in hand. Both of you stare at one another, shoulders and chests violently heaving as you both pant for air. He’s raw and pulsing, twitching from the heartbeat in the crown of his cock.

It's suspended mid air, jumping from how insanely aroused he’s left himself. Sticky beads of precum constantly roll down his shaft, one after the next and his balls are throbbing too. You get back on your knees and lunge for his cock again, tongue darting out to have another taste. He pulls you back, his hand still having a firm grasp of your kuru.

“Is this what you are like when you have been bred?” Ralak huffs, a little taken aback by your lewd behaviour. His gaze shifts to your pathetic attempt to make yourself cum, and a smirk spreads across his lips. “So desperate.” Your silence has his brows scrunching together and him yanking your head back so you’re looking up at him. A growl rumbles in his chest as he slowly rises to his feet, bringing you to your knees with him—his hung cock swaying directly in your face.

A smug little smile pulls at your lips when you realise you’re riling him up. You witness his jawbone flutter, his ears laying flat against his skull. He just wants to stuff his cock back down your throat to teach you a lesson. Instead he shoves your face into his crotch, your nose burying itself into the space between his cock and balls. He holds you there for a few seconds, just long enough that when he finally pulls you away you suck in a tiny gasp of air.

Ralak sighs a low, lengthy breath, forcing himself to regain his composure. He can’t understand how such a little thing can be so feisty. To act as if he couldn’t pin you down and take you without a scuffle. Truthfully it only makes him even harder. It only further proves that you are really the woman for him.

Slowly bringing you to your feet, he keeps your face pressed to his body so that your bottom lip drags along his torso as you make your way up. Your hand is still stuffed inside your tewng, slick fingers working hard to find their way back to your clit. With his free hand he grabs a hold of your hip, and steadily backs you up against the wall.

When your back hits the wall, a shaky breath is expelled from your lungs. He lets go of your kuru and rips your hand from your tewng. He then wedges his knee between your legs, putting pressure on your clit, making it flutter uncontrollably. His movements are quick but gentle, filled with purpose and desire. His eyes dart back and forth between yours as he searches them, his face just inches away from yours.

“Answer me, little one.” He whispers into your mouth.

“Yes.” Your answer is breathy and short.

Ralak heaves a heavy sigh.

“I am trying to be gentle…” He speaks the words through gritted teeth, using both hands on your hips to spin you around to face the wall. He lowers his head until his lips graze against the tip of your ear. “…but you make it so hard for me.” He growls, using the perfect amount of force to pin you against the wall with his body. His large hand swiftly moves to your lower stomach, cupping it to act as a protective barrier between the wall and your budding womb.

“No need to be. I can handle you just fine.” Your lips are pressed tight to your teeth, face flush against the smooth surface, making it hard for you to speak clearly. “Pregnant or not.”

Ralak chuckles.

“Is that right?” He speaks in an almost condescending tone, hurriedly tugging down your loincloth just enough to get access to your cunt. Without warning, he bends his knees a little to align your pelvises and then shoves his cock between your slickened, warm folds. “Oh tanhì, you are soaked.” His voice quiets down into a hushed whisper, “All from sucking my cock?”

A mewl splits your lips just as all the blood rushes to your face, staining it a bright pink. Your pussy clenches around nothingness only causing more of your slick to ooze on his cock. Your breath turns shaky, tail swishing wildly behind you. You can’t move even if you wanted to. He’s got you pinned down, quickly reminding you of his strength. And had it not been for his hand on your abdomen you would be completely plastered to the wall and taken on his terms.

“Tsk-tsk…Have you no shame?” Ralak tuts, holding you still. “Or must I give you a lesson on self-restraint?”

Despite his cockiness you can sense the urgency in his body language and in his voice. You can feel it in the way his hips stutter, as his cock slides back and forth between your pussy lips. His own desperation. The desire to be inside you. The need for release.

“Go on then, karyu.” You moan softly, causing his grip on you to loosen for a millisecond. Hearing that name brings a feeling of nostalgia. Of lust. You push back into him, your slippery hole trying to suck him inside with a few quick movements of your pelvis. “But I know you’ve been desperate… desperate to fuck your numeyu.”

“Oh, little one.” His chuckle is dark and depraved, his protective hand stiffening as if he were preparing it for what's to come. “Yet you are trying your hardest to take me inside you.” He licks your ear lobe to tip, whispering, “so cute.”

“Fnawe’tu [coward].” You mutter under your breath, steadying your feet to ground yourself.

Ralaks ears flicker and stand tall, then immediately lay flat to his head—his brow cocking in astonishment. His smirk grows wider, the heat in his chest spreading to his extremities. Now that pushes him over the edge.

“Say that again, numeyu.” He challenges you in a growl, angling his hips so his weeping cockhead prods at your entrance. He ensures not to let the buck of his hips win, keeping you empty and yearning.

“Haah… afraid to take what’s yours.” You purr, rising to the tips of your toes to try sink him inside you. “Fnawe’tu—”

Smack.

The sound of his swollen balls making contact with your puffy clit is almost as loud as your broken gasp. You smile open mouthed as he holds his position balls deep inside you, firmly pressing the tip of his cock into your cervix. He’s grinding his back teeth, digging his chin into your shoulder to quell the rumble of his chest from how tight you’re squeezing his cock.

You whine from the fullness of him stuffed inside your cunt, his unmoving hips sending a clear message of dominance. He’s hunched over you, body weight pinning you mercilessly against the wall, hand over your womb to keep your unborn safe—as promised. Still being gentle enough.

But you want him to lose it.

To fuck into you like he were in rut again. To use your pussy like a fucktoy to satiate his own greed and self pleasure. He deserves that much, for being such a competent and loving man to you. Yet it seems the only way to bring that out of him is to play dirty.

“Fnawe’tu [coward].” You repeat shakily.

Smack.

Another deep and hard thrust into your sloppy cunt. He lets loose the rumble in his chest this time, bearing his canines and putting most of his weight on you now. Lips pressed tightly together, your whimper is muffled and outright pathetic, pinched brows giving away the pleasure rippling through you. Still, he remains unmoving, undeniably making it clear who has the most leverage here. But that doesn’t really matter to you—you’re getting what you want, one way or another.

Right?

“Voìk si, little one [behave].” Ralak hisses, fighting the inner conflict within him.

“Haa—” Your laugh that follows is a little sinister, open mouthed and smug. Hands pressing into the wall you push off its surface, sinking him deeper inside you. “No.”

“Alright.” His voice is husky, thick with confidence and temperance.

With a rough, quick tug, his cock slips out of you with a squelch, hanging freely between his legs. Your slick mixed with his precum slowly dribbling off his tip and onto the floor between your pointed feet. You fall to the flat of your feet, panting and whining from the sudden emptiness.

“W-Wait.” You squeak, hastily getting back on the tips of your toes to stuff him inside you again. “Please.”

“What was that?” Ralak asks, voiced feigned with innocence. “A little louder.”

“Please.” You barely whisper, backing up on him.

“Come now, tanhì.” His hand slips from your hip to grip his cock. Giving it a few strokes he teases your cunt with his cockhead and you instinctively shimmy down. Hips snapping back to prevent you from taking him inside, he dips his head so his mouth is next to your ear and husks, “You can do better than that.”

“Please!” You moan loudly in desperation, reaching down to your knees to unfetter yourself from your tewng [loincloth].

“Please, what?” Ralak spits the last word through pursed lips, ready to give you exactly what you want if you just ask for it nicely.

“Please put it back inside.” You beg pathetically, finally getting the knot of your tewng undone. “Please, fuck me.”

“Ahh, there’s my good girl.” Ralak praises you with a grin, sinking his cock into your warmth at a leisurely pace. His breathing stutters for every inch that penetrates you. “Was that so hard?”

“Fuck.” You moan in relief, spreading your legs wider. He’s tamed you and he knows it. “No.”

“No…?” Ralak says it like a question, hissing when he bottoms out in your cunt.

“No, karyu.” You answer coyly, voice faltering from the pressure of his cockhead pushing into your cervix.

“Agh—haah” Ralak lets out a gruff grunt in response, his hips now snapping back and forth out of his control. He’s huffing and puffing next to your ear, pumping his cock in and out of you in a frenzy of need. Swollen balls repeatedly slapping against your clit, it’s almost impossible to hold back the gurgled noises escaping your throat.

“Fuck—so—fuckin’—deep—fuck.” The curses are punched out of you as he relentlessly smacks into you again and again.

“Lì’fyaz [language.]” Ralak chides in a growl, hand slipping down to pull back the hood of your clit—taut.

The continuous sting of your clit has your legs shaking and the way his cockhead is repeatedly stimulating your sweet spot has your eyes rolling back into your head. It’s almost too much all at once yet you yearn for more. Your cunt clamps down around him, especially when the tension becomes so tight you feel your stomach double-knot. Ralak hums when you tighten around him, only making him rut harder into you.

Pulling back, he glances down at you sucking him in, your tail curled tight to your back and his cock plunging in and out of your pussy. He can see just how tight you are as your pussy walls grip his girth mercilessly. And with the protective hand on your abdomen, he can feel each thrust against the palm of his hand. It makes his chest swell with pride—

You carry his child yet still take him so well.

“Oeÿa tsantu [my good girl]” Ralak slips into his native tongue, panting in an accent as thick as tree sap. “Oeÿa numeyutsyìp [my little student]”

Ralaks cock heats up inside you, heating your core along with it. It’s the same familiar sensation you feel before he provides you with your release. The feeling that keeps your eyes squeezed shut and breath shallow. He knows your close and slows his thrusts like he usually does, fucking you a little harder rather than faster, angling his pelvis so he’s right in your swelling g-spot.

Your hands fly behind you, grasping at whatever’s available as your orgasm washes through you. You gush all over your thighs, cum dribbling down your legs to your feet, some spattering on Ralak as he fucks and holds you through your high. It’s sudden and uncontrollable, leaving you sputtering out nonsense and your legs shaking violently beneath you.

“There it is. Good muntxate [wife].” Ralak huffs with a smirk, relishing in the quick, feverish flutter of your cunt on his cock. His voice is shaky from his uneven rhythm now that he can finally allow himself to finish too. “Love—hng—when you cum for me, you—ahh, haah—know that?”

He begins grinding to you, shoving you further into the wall as he focuses on his own climax. He uses his feet to kick your legs closed, and pulls out of you, stuffing himself between your thighs. He’s groaning and growling, hunched over you with bent knees and flushed, flattened ears. Skin slapping against skin, he humps at your thighs, thick cock sliding back and forth over your still pulsing clit.

His cockhead continuously pokes out between your folds, tip oozing and oozing with precum. Both his hands fly to your hips, gripping them with force as his thrusts become almost violent. You struggle to keep yourself standing as his hips smack into you repeatedly, your body jolting with each thrust. He gives you one last, harsh thrust, holding you still against him as you feel his cock throb wildly between your thighs. You look down to see his huge load shoot out in thick, white ropes. He’s grumbling behind you, giving your thighs an extra few uncontrollable thrusts as he peaks in his high.

Finally you fall to the flat of your feet, his arms instantly snaking around your waist to support your weight entirely.

“I told you no taunting, tanhì.” He’s referring to the time he opened up about his first rut, “Next time, you ask nicely. Tslam? [Understand?]” Ralak says breathlessly.

“Sran, oeÿa karyu. tslolam. [Yes, my teacher. I understand].” You blubber, fucked out and jaded.

——

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liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 10 days

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What Type of Kinks & Turn Ons They Have [2]

[ NSFW + MDNI ]

Alastor

Power Play (He’s an extreme dominant. You won’t ever get a chance to have the upper hand.)

Master / Servant Dynamic

Gore (Anything fear inducing for you really)

Primal Play (Predator / Prey ( IICYIFY type of thing…)

Breath Deprivation / Choking (Alastor tends to withhold physical touch in public but choking you ‘casually’ isn’t abnormal. Although, behind closed doors he’s nowhere near as gentle as he is out in the open. The marks he leaves on your throat never seem to fade…)

Knife Play / Sharpness (His claws are incredibly sharp and get even more deadly when he transforms into his larger demon form. It terrifying but the pain of a few scratches is nothing compared to the consequences you’d suffer if you ran from him..)

Light Bondage (He’ll never let you use any restraint on him…those are just for him to use on you..)

Orgasm Control / Denial (His favorite punishment for you…it’s pure torture…)

Voice kink (You have it bad for him but he’s also wildly attracted to yours as well -he will never admit that to your face.)

Branding / Biting / Scratching / Marking

Titles (He isn’t a huge fan of pet names and he uses them only to persuade or fluster you on a daily basis but when ‘sir’ ‘master’ or even ‘daddy’ slips out of your mouth the deer demon loses his mind for a spilt second. He adores it…)

Somophilia (Alastor does not sleep….its bound to happen and you don’t mind as long as he gives you a gift/treat when you’re finally awake.)

Free Use / Slight CNC. (He prefers control over everything -even when and where he fucks you..)

Breeding (This only happens during his severe ruts…he wears you out a little too fast but you can’t complain.)

Sadism. (He’s a certified sadist and can’t have a good time if he’s not humiliating you in one way or another.)

Humiliation (Alastor is never above making you feel flustered or shy and he’s definitely no saint either. If you break into tears from mere vulgar words he whispers in your ear …he’s totally fine with it.)

Aftercare (He is surprisingly efficient and gentler with you but on a few occasions seeing how weak and docile you are after the fact makes him want you all over again…)

Lucifer

DDLG (He can’t help it..)

Daddy kink.. (You called him that once on a dare and now he’s obsessed with it and quite literally gets rock hard when you do.)

Innocence / Corruption Kink (This is more of a semi-natural reaction he has to you. It’s in his nature and you play into it well…)

Oral (It’s an addiction for him but you’ll never refuse his offer to go down on you. He’s a pro by anyone’s standards. You learn how to please him properly with a few lessons from him after a while.)

Massachist (Once in a blue moon Lucifer actually gets rough with you and it’s usually because of pent of rage on his part.)

Sense Deprivation (Being denied the option to feel, see, taste, or hear you drives him insane. The same goes for you and from time to time it leads to a longer night for the both of you.)

Overstimulation

Cuckholding (The instant you leave him hot and embarrassingly bothered he’s a mess. It’s almost euphoric seeing the King of Hell collapse under your fingertips.)

Exhibitionism

Impact Play (General punishments for you specifically. A light slap across the face or backside. Maybe a rough tug of your hair as as a sign from him for you to listen. Nothing too outrageous.)

Praise / Degradation (Works both ways)

Voyeurism (Lucifer prefers to watch you pleasure yourself for him more often than not but there are times he’ll purposefully relieve himself just for you to watch…)

Spit / Drool (Similar to a blood kink, he enjoys the taste of you. There’s also the implication of your body belonging to him and willingly taking in whatever he gives it. The first time he spit in your mouth was purely on accident but when you smiled and asked for more…it became his new favorite thing to do to you…)

Aftercare / Cuddling. (Let’s be real, he’s the absolute best at aftercare and does everything within his power to make you feel comfortable again. However, you aren’t allowed to leave his side for hours and end up curled up close to his side for most of the day/night. Sometimes he keeps his hands to himself…other times…you’re back to square one.)

What should I do next? For these type of posts I mean? ❤️

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dreamcatchr · 2 years

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#i love how i just show up to post like 2 things and an update once in a blue moon and leave again JSDKGDKG #anyways hi!! im still doing alright #still having health probs ;; but i have a drs appointment next week for a consult for an endoscopy!#weight mention tw // but ive lost over 120 lbs now ._. and a lot of it is like... unwarranted? which is why im going to a doctor lol #AND MY HAIR KEEPS FALLING OUT AGAIN >:T literally So annoying im gonna have 2 start wearing my extensions fr i think #oh and since i had such a blast at that festival a few months ago im buying tickets for next year!! im gonna start going every year lol #work is same old same old but i am somehow building a clientele albeit unintentionally?#i stepped away from anything cos related for a couple years bc covid and just started working as an assistant manager/receptionist but #my coworkers ended up reccing their clients to me for nail services and now i have quite a few regulars lol #okay i think thats all i got for now lul i hope every1 has a good nite!! :3

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mopopshop · 2 months

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if you aren’t comfortable writing this, ignore it! but would you be able to do emily engstler nsfw head cannons?

I got you twin 🤞🏾

Emily Engstler NSFW Headcannons

she’s a top, like biggest top to ever top all tops

but she likes to switch it up every once in a while

strap game is actually insane

she was never shy about it at first like she knows how to use it and she’s PROUD

as good as she is w strap, fingering is… no words, actually insane how good she is at it

strap is like honestly overwhelming, you can barely breathe after and she’s so cocky about it

backshots warrior

riding and missionary tie for second tho

guiding your hips w her big ass hands (the hand tats too OMLLL)

sucking the strap>>>

loves eye contact

“eyes on me, mamas”

grips your jaw to make SURE u looking

isn’t a crazy talker in bed, she says the right things at the right times

and she’s not big on like degrading nicknames, i feel like the craziest she would go is tease or brat

mamas, princess, pretty girl, baby >>>

certified munch every day all day

loves when you pull her hair

she’s into public sex to an extent, like fingering shes all for but eating you out or vice versa in public is a little too much for her 😭

gets horny out of literally nowhere, like you turn her on sm it’s crazy and you don’t even have to be do anything

The two of you had just been chilling in Emily’s car in front of the Mystics practice gym. You’d been basking in comfortable silence when you felt Emily’s hand grip your thigh, her thumb rubbing it.

Nothing out of the ordinary but slowly you feel her hand moving higher until her hands getting dangerously close to between your legs.

“Baby..” she whines

“Hm?” you turn to her, meeting her eyes. They’re low and she’s smirking, immediately catching on to what she’s insinuating.

Feigning annoyance, you scoff “I know damn well you’re not tryna do that right now”

Her hand continues to rub on your upper thigh as she leans in to speak lowly in your ear “So you don’t wanna…?”

“Emily!” you smack her arm, laughing “You’re quite literally about to walk into practice”

just so down bad for you

her snapchat “my eyes only” is filled w pics of you

she likes to record and take pictures during (entirely with your consent of course)

goes absolutely feral when you send her nudes

she’s private about yalls sex life though, she’s not one to kiss and tell

she doesn’t brag abt y’all’s escapades to her teammates, maybe once in a blue moon to hailey but even that’s pushing it

talks you through it when you cum DEFINITELYYY

“i know mama, you can cum”

“it’s okay baby, cum for me”

“you feelin good?”

“oh you sound so pretty”

“tell me how it feels”

strap game is so crazy it has you walking funny for a while after

foreplay is a must every. single. time.

loves when you dig your nails into her back

the scratches on her back after>>>

changing in the locker room is always entertaining bcs they’re visible to the rest of the team and they stay asking questions

very attentive when it comes to aftercare

like she’ll cuddle with you right after, make sure you get something to drink, shower together and cuddle some more when you’re dressed

she’ll make sure she’s glued to your back and that you feel as much comfort as possible

as much as I enjoyed writing this, this does not mean i’m good at writing smut so if y’all ask i don’t think i’ll do it, not cause i don’t want to but because i srsly suck ass at it😭😭😭

also so upset that i can’t watch the mystics game, can’t find anyone who’s streaming it so just praying that they’ll post highlights after

let’s pray that emily and aaliyah got some playing time 💔🙏🏾

#women’s basketball #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa #wlw #emily engstler #wnba #emily engstler x reader #emily engstler headcannons #aaliyah edwards #uconn wbb #washington mystics

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dragon-kazansky · 2 months

Text

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Eight - Sparkling diamond

♡♡♡

Benedict joined his sister, Eloise, out in the garden again long after the other had gone to bed. She was smoking on the swing like last time.

As Benedict takes a seat on the opposite swing, she passes him the cigarette. He takes it.

"I found bits of your sketchbook in the fireplace," Eloise says.

"Are you spying on me now?"

"You'd actually have to be interesting for me to bother spying on you," she chuckles.

"The drawings in that sketchbook were abominable," he says firmly. "I could not stand to look at them."

"I believe that is why they call it a sketchbook." Eloise looks at them. "I write in my diary, which is not the same as wiring in my novel."

Benedict chuckles.

"It must be very difficult to want something and not be able to get it."

"Eloise..."

"If you enjoy drawing but need practise, then practise," she goes on. "Hire a drawing master. Find a young lady to act impressed."

You cross his mind. However, he doesn't want you to act impressed. He wants you to be impressed by his work. Genuinely so.

"If you desire the sun and the moon, all you have to do is go out and shoot at the sky. Some of us cannot.

"Look no further than Lady Whistledown. She possesses a huge talent for writing, and yet she must hide away and publish under a false name."

"Yes, because if anyone knew who Whistledown truly was, she'd be strung up for what she said," Benedict states.

"That is not my point. Whistledown is a woman, therefore she has nothing, and still she writes. You're a man, therefore you have everything. You are able to do whatever you want. So do it. Be bold."

Eloise envies her brothers.

"At least that way I can live vicariously through you." She rises to leave.

"Eloise... are you Lady Whistledown?" Benedict asks.

Eloise laughs.

"You're an accomplished writer, always scribbling in that diary of yours. You certainly know everyone else's business. You have more opinions than anyone else I know in London. You would have my full support and admiration either way, sister."

Elosie laughs again.

"So... is it you?"

"No." She looks at him. "Though if it were... do you honestly think that I'd admit it?"

Elosie heads back inside.

Benedict is left with his thoughts.

♡♡♡

The ballroom was elegantly designed. Soft shades to light up the room. You find yourself without a dance partner, however.

Prince Friedrich was in the middle of a dance with Cressida Cowper.

The duke was standing sternly off to the side with Lady Danbury. They appeared to be talking quietly, though judging by the stern faces, it was not a pleasant conversation.

You find yourself gently, and you admire the room. Benedict wasn't here. You couldn't see him at all.

That is not to say you had gone unnoticed. You glance to your left and find a perfectly suitable gentleman looking your way. You smile softly and turn your gaze away.

Tactics of flirtation were not completely out of your power.

Before anyone could make a move, however, the doors at the top of the stairs opened. It wasn't so much the doors that caught everyones attention, more like who had come through them.

You swear you all breath left you when your eyes landed on Daphne coming down the stairs with her mother. She was wearing the most beautiful silver gown you had ever seen, and her hair was beautifully done. She looked like, well, a princess.

In her hand was a feather fan. It went beautifully with her attire. She began to descend the stairs.

All eyes were on her.

Prince Friedrich was at the bottom of the stairs. Not once did he look away. You watch with interest as Daphne gets closer, closer, and closer to him.

The prince leaves Cressida's side to meet Daphne at the bottom stair.

The duke does not move.

Daphne stops.

"Miss Bridgerton, I simply musylt have your first dance." He speaks to her softly.

"It would be an honour, your highness." She curtsies.

A moment passes between them, and then you watch as Daphne drops her fan. Just like that, the prince kneels down to pick it up.

The prince kneeled.

You don't even realise the soft gasp you let out as you watch.

Prince Friedrich offers her the fan, and she takes it. She smiles at him and then gives the fun to her mother as she takes the prince hand.

They dance.

The duke leaves. Though he turns back to look at Daphne before he goes.

In the words of Lady Whistledown, why settle for a duke when one can have a prince?

♡♡♡

The invitation to attend the boxing match came from Anthony Bridgerton. You were rather pleasantly surprised by his invitation.

Anthony apparently needed some help to keep his mother quiet about finding a wife for himself.

You laughed.

You follow the siblings until they reach the prince. He approaches Daphne, but greets you, also. You curtsy.

Anthony then offers you his arm. "Shall we?"

You chuckle and take it, allowing him to lead you over to some seats. As you settle, you turn to the eldest Bridgerton.

"Where are you brothers?" You ask.

"My brothers? Currently talking to one of the fighters." He gestures to the edge of the ring where you spot Colin and Benedict.

You don't even notice you're smiling.

"You and my brother seem to have grown rather close." Anthony points out, looking at you.

"I can assure you there is nothing untoward. Your brother is my friend, as are you all now." You smile at him.

Anthony chuckles.

"Benedict seems to have a lot on his mind at the moment. I am not one to get in the way of someone's business."

"Smart woman," Anthony chuckles.

You nudge his arm lightly and wait for the fight to begin.

As the match is announced to begin, the other brothers find their way to you and Anthony. Benedict looks rather surprised to see you. "I had no idea you were attending."

"Your brother invited me to keep your mother off his back. It seems that is all I'm good for." You chuckle.

"No true, but appreciated none the less," Benedict comments.

You smile, and he takes the empty seat beside you. It does not go unnoticed that you keep your arm looped with Anthony's. He doesn't comment on it.

The fight is intense. You gasp with every hard punch. The men around you cheer on their victor.

You had never witnessed such a match before, and you would be lying if you said you were not somewhat into it.

As the crowd stands, you stand with them and cheer along with the Bridgerton brothers. William Mondrich was their friend, and he was putting up hell of a good fight.

Benedict finds it amusing how excited you seem to be.

Mondrich wins!

You cheer along with the brothers. You laugh at the excitement. It was a thrilling match, indeed.

Anthony helps you down from your seat and speaks close to your ear so you can hear him. "We're off to collect our winnings. I shall see to it you get home right after."

You nod and thank him. As he leaves to fetch his earrings, Benedict turns to you.

"Did you enjoy that?"

You chuckle. "I did. Surprisingly."

"I must say, I did not expect to see you in attendance."

"I am full of surprises."

Benedict looks at you quietly for a moment. "Yes. You are."

You smile and look away. However, his gaze lingers on you for a bit.

Later, the Bridgertons see to it that you get home safely before they head off to the club. A place for the gentlemen only.

Anthony helps you up into the carriage and thanks you for humouring him today. Yo return the gesture and wave as the carriage leaves.

Colin has to nudge Benedict out of his thoughts.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff -

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #Bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

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cherry-pop-elf · 3 months

Text

Weasley Siblings Reacting To You Saying You Are Pregnant

Writing Comission’s Are Open

William ‘Bill’

“Excuse me-?” He was left practically speechless, when he picked up the onesie on his bedside table. A little blue thing, with the words To The Moon And Back. He was so full of emotions. Panic, excitement, horror, joy. Would the baby inherit his wolf tendencies? Would something go wrong, because of his bad blood? He was so scared. Would you be in danger, because of him? With his eyes turning to you, and seeing that excited smile, he couldn’t help but calm down. Teddy existed after all, didn’t he? He was as fine as he could be. The idea of holding his own little ball of joy. To see that orange hair, and watch you nurse. “I’m going to be a dad….” He trailed, with a smile. “I’m going to be a dad-“ He repeated, as he would hold the little sleep wear to his chest. Tears ran down his broken cheeks, as he kept reacting it. So full of pride. He’s going to be a dad, with you.

Charlie

“IM GONNA BE A DAD-!” He was screaming, bloody damn murder, as he was running around at the sanctuary. Screaming it with pride, as you chased after him. Just laughing, as the dragons would lift up their heads. “IM A DAD IM A DAD IM A DAD-!” He keeps roaring, as the dragons would tilt their heads. Watching their motherly figure jump for joy. Literally. “Charlie-!” You laughed, as he was just to full of excitement. Laughing, cheering, and crying. That’s when one of the older mothers would grab him by the collar. Yanking him into the air, before plopping him right next to you. As if to convey that he better step up now. That had you laugh, as he pouted at her. “I am I am-!” He said, before he was on his knees. Holding your belly. “I’m gonna be your daddy-!” He squealed, as he kissed it over. All the excitement getting the new borns curious, but those mothers made sure they didn’t get to close. Letting him have his moment. A new baby, to join the herd.

Percy

“You cannot be serious-“ Percy was blinking, as he had hardly taken two steps through the fire place. Just gotten off work, early for once, only to be surprised by you making a baby box. It was meant to be a surprise, and something you would give to him after dinner. Seems like he was still surprised, regardless. “Who had the baby this time-?” He asked, as he would set his belongings where they were designated. That had you snort, as it didn’t quite dawn on him yet. With the fact you didn’t say anything, he turned around. “Honey?” He asked again, as you keep smiling. Slowly, the gears turned, before he was left with his cloak dropped from his hands. It was him. He didn’t expect that. Was like the last one to join the family gang. He couldn’t help his worry. He didn’t exactly grow up to well. He wasn’t to well connected with his family, and only came around when it was almost to late. He didn’t want that to happen to his kid. To have such a divide. You could tell he was worried, and patted the seat next to you. He joined, and you would kiss his head. “Who do you wanna tell first?” You asked, as he held your hand. The name he said, reassured himself that this kid won’t have that tension. Not like what he made. “George is perfect.” Another kiss to his head, as the plans were made. A big and happy family.

Fred

The words barley left your lips, before you were tossed over his shoulder. As quickly as you were tossed, you were soon hearing the noise of the busy shop. "HEY EVERYONE!" He shouted, causing everyone to look up at one of the railings. George as well, with curious eyes all the same. "IM GONNA BE A DAD, AND GEORGE IS GONNA BE A UNCLE!" He cheered, and everyone was a roar of cheers as well. George was quick to drop what he was doing, and soon aparate next to him. "Put your damn mother to be down!" He laughed, as Fred finally set you down. All three of you in a warm, and tight, hug. "i'm gonna be a uncle!" George cheered, as you laughed. You had to wonder who was more excited for the baby. Your husband, or his twin? It did not matter to you. They were both so happy for this wonderful news. They just could not let you go, as they were just laughing in joy. Children. More children. What could make them hate that?

George

"Pregnant?" He whispered, as he almost looked like he would burst into tears. "I heard that right, didn't I?" He asked, as he felt over the scarred skin that was once his ear. You nodded, before you held up your hands. You could not grasp sign as fast as George did, but you knew the alphabet. P.R.E.G.N.A.N.T. Pregnant. He was soon tackling you, as he was sobbing into your shoulder. "I'm going to be a dad-" He sobbed, as you rubbed his back. Some joy, in his world of darkness. You had fallen pregnant, not long after the death of Voldemort. Made senes, since the stress was gone. For you, anyway. "Jellybean....If its a boy...." You would peck his cheek, and nod. "A boy, Fred. If a girl, Fredrick works as a beautiful middle name." You comforted, getting another hiccup in return. The world was moving on, but the world will not be forgotten. Fred lived on, and hes going to be your tiny terror. How excited you two were, for it.

Ron

“No-“ He gasped. “Really-? No-! Are you-? No-“ Was like he was trapped in a loop, as he now paced around your living room. Looking at you, before looking at his feet, then repeating. As if every time he made a full pace, he turned. You had to admit, was pretty adorable. Figured news like this would make your Auror husband short circuit a bit. You let him pace, with a smile. Just grinning, as he was trying to register it all. Suppose work fatigue makes anyone’s brain mush. Especially a job like his. You would watch him pace, until his brain was finally registering that YEP you are indeed pregnant. “Bloody hell….IM GONNA BE A DAD-!” His face was beaming, before he was stealing you into his arms. He was exhausted, but not tired enough to not huggle and cuddle. “We need to tells ‘Mione and Harry-! Oh those two will be so excited-!” He beams. Uncle Harry and Auntie Hermione. He was going to crush you, you swore, if he kept being so happy. “Blimey, guess that over time is finally coming in handy.” You hated his over time, but he had a point. Now you two had a secure start. That had you relax a little more. “Hope Harry doesn’t mine if I slow down on my career a little.” You would stroke his hair, and pecked his cheek. “He’s Harry. I’m doubtful he will be made you want to not be dead on a side walk, and leave me a single parent.” You snorted. “Yeah, probably doesn’t want history repeating.” Morbid, but point proven. “Gonna be a dad-“ He kept smiling, as he pulled you into his lap. Unable to stop holding you close. He was so happy, and you were all the same. Your family.

Ginny

“SHUT UP-!” She gasped, as she was looking towards the Quidditch stands. No way was she seeing what she was seeing. Your wife just won the first game of the season, and she was looking straight at you. In the VIP seats, and holding up a sign. I’m Pregnant. In bold and colorful letters, so she couldn’t miss it. “NO WAY-!” Ginny kept screaming, as her team mates looked over, as they were shaking hands with the enemy team. “What’s up?!” One of them asked. “IM GONNA BE A MUM-!” Ginny cheered, as that had all the broomstick flyers stare towards where her eyes looked. “CONGRATS-!” The enemy seeker said, with a clap. Good sportsmanship. “IM GONNA BE A MUM-!” What a way to start her quidditch season. The first win, and the fact she’s going to be a mom. “Well, go and fly over-!” A team mate smacked her back, and she wasn’t needed to told twice. The fans went nuts, with famous Quidditch Star Ginny Weasley was flying towards the stands. Right to you, and nearly tackling you down in the box. The fellow VIP seaters clapped for you two, as she planted a big kiss on you. Tears in the corner of her eyes, as she hugged you tightly. “You knew I would win, didn’t you?” She asked. “No, but I mean what better way to recover from a loss?” That had her smack your shoulder, but she was soon was wiping her eyes on her gloves. “Oh fuck, look at me. Crying like a girl-“ She joked, as she sniffled. She was so happy, and you were as well. She just couldn’t contain her joy. Her, you, and your own little precious snitch. What more could a girl want?

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just-a-ghost00 · 10 days

Text

Who's coming towards you and what do they bring to the table?

Group 1 - Spider lilly

Who are they? In Japanese culture, the spider lily is believed to bloom near graves. It is associated with the afterlife and the notions of death and rebirth. This flower holds a very scorpionic energy. It is also a symbol of eternal love. This specific white lily shown in the picture is also a symbol of purity and innocence. If we take that into account, the person coming towards you can be viewed as mysterious and deep, somewhat cold. But once you get to know them, you realize that they are rather outgoing and pure, kind and childlike. They marvel at the beauty of life and want nothing but to love and be loved.

Looking at the different cards you got, there’s a lot of emphasis on communication and voicing one’s opinions or truth without fear. This person could have a beautiful voice. They could be a singer or a spokesperson, an advocate or any other profession that involves speaking to a large audience. This person seems to be shy and rather harsh on themselves. They take pride in what they do and the values they stand for. When their actions are not in alignment with their ideals, they tend to criticize themselves a lot. They are represented by Bismuth and Turquoise, both blue crystals. The throat chakra holds an important significance to this person, as well as emotions, intuition and water. Blue could be their favorite color. This person could burn themselves out often by being present for others more than showing up for themselves. They could get throat sickness quite often, especially when they are repressing their truth or telling lies. They have a sharp tongue. They use their voice to shed light on what is contradictory or what needs to evolve. They help people shift their perspective. Teaching could also be their career path.

What do they bring to the table? - Queen of pentacles, 7 of wands, 4 of cups, The Moon, The Fool, Judgement, White Numen

This person brings in major shifts in your life. Renewal is the best way to describe it. They will literally put your world upside down in order to help you gain perspective on what is going on. They’ll show you that there’s nothing wrong in standing for what you believe in. They’ll also teach you how to be the bigger person and choose your battles wisely. They’ll help you introspect and listen to your intuition, take a new start in life and get retribution by accomplishing what you were meant to do in this life time. This person will help you find your true calling and your voice in this global cacophony that is the world we currently live in. With them, you will create a reality in your image. They will also help you value yourself more and set yourself free from any dependence or addiction. They’ll help you detach yourself from people’s judgmental views. Significant zodiac signs for this group are Taurus, Cancer and Scorpio. You can wear blue or connect to the energy of Bismuth and Turquoise to understand this person better on a spiritual level and manifest them into your life.

Group 2 - Lavender

Who are they? Lavender is known to have soothing properties. It is often used in aromatherapy to ease the mind and release tensions related to anxiety, stress. Lavender is a symbol of devotion, serenity and grace. With its purple petals, it could be associated with the spiritual realm. This person is very delicate and kind hearted. They consider people with a lot of care and kindness. They have a pure heart and make people feel safe. They remind me of Taurus and their Venusian sensual and loving energy. This person is down to earth and wise beyond their years. Their crown chakra is highly active. It wouldn’t surprise me if this person already connected with you through your dreams. They could very well be a therapist, a reiki practitioner, a healer that uses alternative medicines or unconventional practices like crystal healing or sound healing. This is further confirmed by two cards of the Threads of fate deck that are related to air and ether : share wisdom and The Sage. This person is a guide and mentor to others. They could be a teacher, some type of guru or an important public figure, a coach, a counselor. This person is very powerful and influent. They could have published a book or a study or shared their experience and what they learned over time online.

They are represented by the hammerhead shark. They have a lot of determination and drive. They are also incredibly mature. They could very well be older than you. I’d say at least ten years older. Purple and blue could be their favorite colors. If they were a major arcana, I think this person would be the Hermit. So Cancer could also be relevant. They are also represented by Kyanite and Amethyst. Kyanite is advised to people who feel restless, who overthink or get caught in their mental space too often. This shows that this person is a deep thinker. They take things seriously and meticulously. Amethyst is often used in spiritual practices to deepen our connection to the spirit realm and gain clarity. To hone our psychic skills. This person feels very connected to their higher self. They know who they are, what they were meant to do and where they’re heading. They are focused on their mission and won’t lose their time with insignificant matters.

What do they bring to the table? - 7 of cups, 3 of wands, 9 of cups, Temperance, 4 of swords, The Lovers, 5 of swords Other significant zodiac signs are Gemini, Sagittarius and Pisces. This person will teach you how to identify your needs and choose a path that is in alignment with your higher self and your highest good. They’ll help you find balance and emotional satisfaction in the projects that you pursue, the actions you take. They’ll teach you how to recognize the symptoms of anxiety and being overwhelmed by life so that you can retreat and protect yourself. They’ll teach you how to pick your battles wisely and ignore petty attitudes from your peers. They’ll help you handle the pressure of being your true self and choosing yourself over others. They’ll teach you how to love yourself and how to love, how to be in love and receive love. I can say here that this relationship has romantic potential. Surprisingly this part of the reading is the shortest but I feel like there’s no need to overanalyze this because this person will be pretty clear with their intent : they’re here to help and support you, "and that is all you need to know" they want to add.

Group 3 - Sunflower

Who are they? I associate the Sunflower with the bold and brave Leo. I heard in my mind "only the brave" which is the name of a perfume from Diesel. So this could be this person’s perfume. With it’s bright colors and relation to the sun, it is safe to say this person has a bright personality. They are outgoing and friendly, like to be seen and admired. They take great care of their body and appearance. Hence the fragrance reference. This person is cheerful and ambitious. They don’t like lying down and contemplating. They would rather act first and think later. They could have anger issues and sometimes be jealous. The signs of Leo and Aries could be significant. Blue and green could be their favorite colors. This person is represented by the whale shark and the octopus. They are very clever and resilient. They have a strong moral compass and always lead their life according to their values and principles. They remind me of Changbin from Stray Kids. This person likes to make their own mind instead of following others. They’re a natural leader and a loner. With The Creator card and the Withdraw card from the Threads of fate deck, this tells me that this person is creative and works independently. They could be a fashion designer, a writer, a producer, a webdesigner, an architect, a freelance artist in any domain. This person could be known on social media. On the withdraw card is a sleeping fox. This tells me that this person likes their solitude. They need time alone to recharge and create. They don’t like showing people their tricks. They like to surprise and impress. The creator card shows a hand holding a wand. This for some reason reminds me of Harry Potter. Maybe your person is a potter head. In this case, they’re the typical Gryffindor : athletic, loyal, thinks with their heart (or something else a bit lower when the heart isn’t functioning). They have a strong sex drive and are pretty sensual. Their body matters a lot to them. They go to the gym often.

What do they bring to the table? - 2 of cups, ace of swords, page of wands, ace of pentacles, six of cups, The Tower, 7 of wands

To put it simply, they bring love, sex and a whole lot of fun. But this will be challenging for you, as you are not used to this type of energy. Significant zodiac signs are Scorpio, Sagittarius and Pisces. They bring in new opportunities and a new start romantically speaking. They bring in new experiences and that includes sexuality. They will help you reconnect with the past and make amends with it. They will help you heal your inner child and release trauma regarding intimacy. They will challenge you and push your buttons to get the best out of you. That is their way of showing you love. This is the type of person that will wake you up one morning and get you out of bed to work out with them, and gently scream at you positive affirmations while you’re working on that "summer body" you always wanted. They’ll show you how to have fun with life and explore all the hidden parts of you that you were burying because you were afraid of rejection. They’ll cut through your walls and uncover your masks for you so that you can finally get the happy ending that you deserve. They’ll be your knight in shining armor except that instead of saving you they’ll get you to save yourself. If you ever try to push them away, they’ll only come back stronger and needier. You won’t get rid of them easily.

#pick a card #pac reading #love pac #spiritual pac

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just-jordie-things · 5 months

Text

california - nanami kento

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 10k warnings: swearing, jjkverse trauma summary: nanami kento left jujutsu society behind years ago. (y/n) spent that time moving on, thinking she'd never see him again. then she stumbles across a letter that suggests otherwise... more info: slowburn friends to seperation to lovers, reader is annoyingly angsty being seperated from nanami tbh but who wouldn't be ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ i shouldn’t have done it but i read it in your letter // you said to a friend that you wished you were doing better // i wanted to reach out but i never said a thing ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

On her good days, (y/n) didn’t think about her time as a student at Jujutsu Tech. She was able to complete her assignments, help train a few of Gojo’s students, and complete her paperwork at a decent time, all before leaving for the day at a semi-decent time.

On her good nights she’d have a glass of wine after a simple dinner, take her time with her skincare routine before bed, and fall into a dreamless sleep, until her alarm inevitably woke her up to start it all over again.

A good day came once in a blue moon- and after a google search one night after a couple extra glasses of wine, she thinks a good day might rival the frequency of a blue moon.

Every task of every day seemed to go by in a hazy blur, and if you were to sit down and ask her how her day was, she’d struggle to answer the specifics of the question.

“Fine,” She shrugs back at Ieiri Shoko when she asks her one afternoon. “Yours?”

“You don’t look fine,” Shoko dodges the redirected question with her candid response. “You look like you haven’t slept in ages”

She’s not wrong, and (y/n) knows she doesn’t look great. Getting an average of four hours of sleep each night, on top of having a highly physically demanding job, the body could only handle so much. The bags under her eyes had bags, and since losing her only tube of chapstick, she hadn’t found the time to stop into the convenience store and pick up another one.

“That’s why you’re the doctor” (y/n) mumbled back.

She hadn’t sought out Shoko’s company, but she was the only one of her colleagues that she didn’t actively push away. Even if the smoke from her cigarette made her the tiniest nauseous after quitting the habit years ago. She was different from the others. Not overbearing, and never too chatty. If she was held at gunpoint and forced to answer, (y/n) would tell you that Shoko was the closest thing to a friend that she had.

Only at gunpoint, though.

“You ever thought about cashing in some vacation time?” Shoko muses.

She finally turns away from the burnt out sorcerer, leaning back against the outside wall of the infirmary and puffing on her cigarette. (y/n) had stepped out for some fresh air- which really meant a break from Gojo pestering her while she did her reports- and just so happened to run into the old… friend.

“Nowhere I want to go” She answered lamely. Shoko fights the urge to roll her eyes.

“Well some downtime would do you good. Like a staycation, you know?”

“Don’t think it’s in the cards, Sho,” (y/n) sighed, pushing off the wall and turning to head inside. “Besides. There’ll still be curses roaming around, won’t there?” She asks, glancing back at her, only to find the woman frowning.

One thing about Shoko? She didn’t express much. Since their school days, she’d mastered holding a neutral face, never quite letting anyone know what she was thinking. Maybe it was just the way she coped with everything.

“There’ll always be curses” Shoko replies before (y/n) could disappear back inside.

She catches her just as she’s stepping over the threshold, freezing up when she speaks because even with how badly she wants to be done with the conversation, she can’t bring herself to shut Shoko out. Not completely, anyways. And not literally.

So she sighs, and doesn’t glance back at her when she forces more words out from between her teeth.

“Then I guess I’ll always be busy”

Shoko doesn’t say anything else before the door’s sliding shut and (y/n’s) gone.

It was the longest conversation they’d had in months. If you could even call it a conversation.

They used to talk all the time, sneaking out to smoke or crashing in each other’s rooms with a stash of magazines and R-rated movies. They used to be actual friends. But that was a lifetime ago and as far as (y/n) was concerned, completely unattainable now.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Can’t tonight, got big plans with Shoko,” (y/n) says, popping a piece of strawberry taffy in her mouth. She’d stolen it from Satoru’s stash just a few hours ago, keeping it safely hidden in her pocket until he was no longer around to catch her savoring it. “Yaga gave me an assignment first thing in the morning, but we could hang out after?”

Nanami Kento knows that the candy she was rolling over her tongue didn’t belong to her, and he knows he’ll probably have to lie to his obnoxious upperclassman once the idiot notices a piece has gone missing. He’s not above lying, but he certainly doesn’t enjoy it. Especially to the face of the strongest sorcerer. But when (y/n) produces another parchment wrapped piece from her pocket and passes it off to him, he takes it for the price of that lie.

“Tomorrow works,” Nanami agrees softly, peeling away the wrapper of the green sweet. “We should probably study for the upcoming exam-”

“Sweet! Taffy!”

Another voice interrupts the conversation, and it’s no surprise to see Haibara Yu bounding up to the two of them. With stars in his eyes and a face splitting grin, neither (y/n) nor Nanami could be annoyed with him for butting in between them with an outstretched hand.

“Sorry, Yu,” (y/n) frowns, holding up the empty wrapper from her piece between her index and middle fingers. “Fresh out”

Just as Yu turns to his other friend, Nanami’s already popped the key lime flavored piece into his mouth. The bright grin on Yu’s face falls into a dramatic frown.

“It’s Gojo’s anyways, go ask him for a piece” Nanami says gruffly, raising his eyebrows in a pointed stare, silently telling his colleague to take the hint and leave them be.

Yu’s obvious in the way he opens his mouth and nods along. He thinks he’s being smooth when he stammers out an excuse about ‘having to be, uh, somewhere’ before scampering off and giggling into his hand.

“Great, he’s totally gonna tattle on me now” (y/n) groans, but something about the idea of a confrontation with Gojo Satoru himself makes her smirk with excitement.

Nanami recognizes the look and as stupid as it would be to go toe to toe with the Six Eyes user over a few pieces of taffy, his lips twitch in amusement seeing the mischievous look on her face.

“He won’t,” He assures her. “I’ll just pick some up for him next time I’m in town”

“No no,” (y/n) shakes her head, smiling softly at him for the gesture. “No need. I’ll just snatch more next time,”

Nanami knows he should be gently prompting her not to steal from their fellow classmates, but he knows that lecturing her will get him nowhere, and he’s not in the interest of making her lose whatever deluded interest in him she’d already taken up.

Deluded, indeed. Kento has no clue what it was about him that (y/n) had grown so attached to since his enrollment at Jujutsu Tech, but for some reason unknown to him, she sought out his companionship, time and time again. She often asked to be training partners, and then studying partners, and overtime it morphed into real friendship. Although he had a habit of suggesting boring activities when she offered him her free time- like right now.

“And we’re not studying. That’s not fun. I want to do something fun” (y/n) half-scolds him playfully for the ridiculous idea he always came up with. It was almost routine at this point.

After his terrible idea, she’d come up with a wildly outlandish one.

“Let’s sneak into a hotel and pretend we’re guests so we can use the pool!”

To which Kento promptly turned down with a bewildered look on his face.

“Absolutely not”

And then they could find a compromise between the two, which was always the normal, reasonable option.

“Hang out in the shopping district and not buy anything?”

It was like clockwork.

With the plan agreed upon, conversation would move on to something else as they’d slowly wander back to the dormitories. Nanami knew it wasn’t fair to stall when she had plans with Shoko for the night, but she wasn’t exactly rushing the two of them either. And maybe he was a little deluded himself, thinking maybe she wanted to talk to him for a while longer, just like he did.

By the time they reach the girls’ building, they’re stopped out front, and she’s still going on with a story about the last curse she exorcized and how ugly it was. It had him laughing, more so than that day Gojo got his ass handed to him by Yaga during training, and the deeply buried selfish part of him hoped she’d keep standing there and talking to him all night.

“So blue, hairless, sticky globs aren’t your type I take it?” He half jokes as she goes on dramatically about the nasty curse that was the cause of her new record for longest shower.

It’s only a joke, believe him, Kento didn’t know the first thing about flirting. As far as he was concerned, no one had ever flirted with him before, and he was pretty certain he’d also never partaken in the act. But there’s a look that flashes across (y/n’s) features that he’s never seen before, something between amusement and what he thinks could be calculation. Her head tilts at a small angle as a slow smile creeps over her face.

“No, no. I’m only into the gloomy, blonde, unattainable types,” She tells him boldly.

For a moment he thinks she’s joking back at him, but realization strikes him and all the blood drains out of his face, before rushing back up and heating up his entire neck and face. (y/n) must notice, because she giggles, and finally turns towards the dorms.

“Shoko’s gonna come snatch me any minute if I keep her waiting like this, so I better go,”

She’s talking again before he can think of anything to say- or come up with any thought at all, really. But if it makes things awkward, she doesn’t show it. In fact, the grin she’s wearing could rival Haibara’s.

“But I’ll see you tomorrow?”

And Kento could only manage a shaky nod of his head as he watched her go. He barely even waves back at her when she bids him a good night.

Once inside, (y/n) bolts to Shoko’s room with a bright red face and a girlish eagerness to tell her all about the little interaction.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

On her worst nights, she lays awake on top of her covers, staring at the same peculiar spot on her ceiling that she swears she’ll wipe off in the morning, and more often than not, it takes multiple hours before she falls asleep.

And the sleep is not relaxing. Her muscles remain tense, hands in fists and knees clutched tight to her chest. She’s lucky if it’s dreamless. Otherwise, she’s plagued with the memories of every mistake of her past. The worst of all of it, is the image of Haibara Yu’s lifeless body in the infirmary. He’s half covered by one of the shitty, stiff white sheets, and no matter how long she waits with bated breath, he never wakes up.

By the end of the nightmare, Yu’s always dead, and Kento always leaves.

It doesn’t matter if things play out differently than they had in the real memory. It doesn’t matter if she lets him walk away, or if she begs kicking and screaming for him to stay. The ending stays the same.

He leaves, and he never comes back.

Some nights he tells her that it’s her own fault, that she wasn’t there to change things. Some nights he doesn’t even say a word. (y/n) doesn’t know which is the lesser of two evils, because sometimes, just sometimes, it’s such a comfort to hear his voice again that she could forgive him for the nasty things the image of him would spit at her.

Even when she’d jolt awake with limbs that ache and tears staining her pillowcase, she almost wishes she could go back into the nightmare, just to see him again for a few minutes longer.

On the nights you can’t go back to sleep, she finds herself pulling up the contacts list in her phone and staring at his number. It might not even be his number anymore, he very well could have changed it in the last ten years. But it’s a phone number with his name attached nonetheless. She’s never called it, never texted it, even in her worst states, blackout drunk or breaking down on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night, she’s never made the mistake of reaching out to him.

They had a silent agreement after all. To never reach out again. To completely remove themselves from each other’s lives. To become total strangers. At least, (y/n) was sure that was what happened between them. No other explanation ever presented itself, and again, it wasn’t like she could ask. Gojo liked to say people just drift apart, sometimes. She thinks he’s a liar, and maybe a bit of a coward, but she’s never said it to his face. Drifting apart happens over time, she thinks. Drifting apart feels natural, even if it hurts a little bit. Normal people drift apart after life gets in the way, with work, or maybe kids, or some other roadblock that comes about with life.

Sorcerers didn’t drift apart. Or maybe it was that they couldn’t drift apart. There would always be something that kept them tied together, even if running around somewhere far from one another, it was like they’d always be interconnected. The society of jujutsu sorcerers was so small, it should be impossible to drift apart.

There were only two ways to escape it.

The obvious and most frequent cause was death. It was hardly talked about, and perhaps there was a written code never to address the mortality rate of jujutsu sorcerers, but the numbers didn’t lie. This life was not for the weak, and certainly not for those who feared what was on the other side of life.

Haibara Yu fell victim to it before he got the chance to graduate, and she kept it to herself, but (y/n) believed his passing to be the beginning of the end. As much as she hated him for dying, she could forgive him for drifting apart, as Gojo coined it. She’d forgiven him a long time ago, while knelt over his grave with near-frostbitten hands pressed into the marble stone marking it. She’d forgiven him between choked out sobs, before pleading for his forgiveness in return.

Death was a sweet, cruel escape from the lives sorcerers lived. Sweet to those it claimed, releasing them from the horrors they faced in their everyday lives in the name of doing something for the greater good. Cruel to the people left behind to mourn them, counting down the days that pass until the same fate would claim them as well.

But perhaps (y/n) was a pessimist in her natural state, always finding the worst in every situation. She knew this about herself. The problem lied in the fact that pessimism was just too easy to explain away everything wrong with the world.

Because if everything wrong in the world had a larger, more complex reasoning than that of it’s simply bad because that’s the way the world works, then how could the work of any amount of people be enough to fix it?

Then there was the other cause for drifting apart. And perhaps this reason is why Gojo deflected with his choice of wording, because it was defecting. Which is what Geto Suguru did when he renounced jujutsu sorcerery, after slaughtering an entire village of people and then his parents.

If death was sparsely spoken of, defecting was taboo. The difference being no one wanted to speak of the treacherous act and those who committed it. Geto Suguru wasn’t the only one in the history of jujutsu to turn his back on sorcerers and become a Curse User, but he was certainly the most recent, and the acts he committed had been crueler than what was seen by those in the past.

So much so that when her mind drifted off to him, (y/n) found herself straightening up and finding any other topic for her brain to hyperfocus on. It felt wrong to even conjure up the image of his face in the privacy of her own mind. Sometimes the paranoia wrecked her so much she feared Gojo’s Six Eyes would catch her in the act of reminiscing on a past where everyone was still around, still happy, still alive. Now on the rare occasion she lets herself think of those times, there’s a black blur where Geto once was, leaving Gojo and his idiotic grin alone, even in the back of her mind.

Even right now, with her mind drifting off while Gojo had been speaking to her, her posture suddenly stiffens and she’s sitting straight up in her chair, tuning back into whatever he was rambling on about.

It wasn’t often she found herself in Gojo’s office, much less speaking with him, but he’d requested a one-on-one with her and even if she’d declined it, he would’ve tracked her down. Her actually showing up was a courtesy only to herself.

The surprise on Gojo’s half-covered face when she actually appeared at his door wasn’t hidden at all. In another life, she would’ve teased him for the way his jaw dropped open. In this life, she’d stood silently and motionlessly at his door, as if her stillness would’ve let her go undetected, even with his Six Eyes.

At first the meeting consisted of talk about a Special Grade curse popping up around Kyoto that the other school’s resources hadn’t been able to exorcize. It actually seemed like an important talk for a good fifteen minutes. But at some point Gojo had derailed and when she tuned herself back in, he was going on about a bakery in the shopping district.

Her brows furrow, giving herself away in that she hadn’t been listening for a good few minutes, but Gojo continues on with a story about bread.

“Sorry to interrupt,” She interrupts unapologetically, “But what does this have to do with the Special Grade?”

There’s a flicker of confusion on Gojo’s face, but then he grins and laughs too loud. He adjusts himself in his seat, which he’d been leaning across improperly but in a way that was just so him.

“My bad!” He says through his cackles, and next thing she knows, he’s rummaging through the doors of his desk- which looked like it cost more than her monthly rent. He’s muttering a string of disgruntled curses as he digs through a few drawers, pulling some papers out, only to drop them on the desktop and going back to his search.

(y/n) already knows that whatever he’s looking for, he won’t find in that desk. Her eyes wander the pile accumulating in front of him. From file folders to loose pieces of notebook paper to envelopes and what she thinks might be bills, there’s not a chance any of it is useful to their current conversation. Or perhaps useful at all, Gojo had always been notorious for doing his reports late- if at all- and she had a feeling everything in front of her now was just junk.

“Gojo?” She calls softly when he switches to the column of drawers on the other side of the desk, only to continue his messy search. He doesn’t respond, too lost in the disorganization of it all, so she calls his name again, a little more firmly this time.

He jolts upwards, staring at her with his undivided attention from behind the black fabric of his blindfold. (y/n) impatiently raises a brow at him. It takes a real effort to not start tapping her finger against the desk in a display of her growing irritation.

“What is it you’re looking for?” She shakes her head, wondering why she even has to ask.

“The reports from the Kyoto school!” He claims, “I could’ve sworn I put them back in here after I- aha!”

The sudden change in demeanor when he hollers and snaps his fingers makes her flinch, just a little bit, but enough for Gojo to mumble an apology as he rounds the desk. (y/n) stands, expecting to follow him out of the room, but he waves at her dismissively in order to keep her put.

“I left them in my classroom!” He shouts as he makes his way to the door.

(y/n’s) brows furrow, and her mouth drops open to scold him for keeping such documents in a public place, but before she could, he’s admitting something worse.

“I was showing my students earlier as an example piece!” He says it like he’s proud, but the way (y/n) looks at him, you’d think he just admitted to running over her cat. “Be right back!”

She lets out a huff when he’s finally gone, whether it's from deepening annoyance or relief to have a break, she’s not sure. But she turns back to the desk as she waits, only to be met with the mess he’d made.

With a glance to the clock on the wall, she realizes that in the thirty minutes of this meeting, only half of it was spent discussing a work-related matter. The other half was… well fifteen minutes of her life she just won’t get back, she supposed.

It might have been overstepping, but she figures organizing the piles left on Gojo’s desk was a better use of her time than the last few minutes had proven. So with another sigh she gets to sorting.

It’s a lot of piles she creates, but at least there’s a reason for the mess, and at least she stacks everything neatly. The tallest stack is the random pieces of notebook paper- some are grocery lists, some are doodles, and some are notes that actually seem important, like recollections from assignments that he’d need to add to his backed up reports. The other piles are separated into files of previous reports, assorted envelopes, and then a stack of miscellaneous pages she couldn’t make heads or tails of. Either way, Gojo would be obligated to feel some appreciation for her work here.

She works in silence and mindlessly, barely giving even the strangest of papers a second glance once she determines the proper placement for it. But then she comes across an envelope-enclosed letter.

It’s been opened, which isn’t the oddest thing about it. What makes it stand out is how neatly the flap was detached, not a single tear in the rest of the envelope. Unlike the other letters, which were tucked away in shredded envelopes. They’d likely been ripped open by impatient fingers. This one was in perfect condition.

Curiously, she flips it over in her hand, but the only thing written across the front of it is Gojo’s name, in neat, straight handwriting. There’s no addresses, and no stamp. This letter was hand delivered.

With a single glance to the open door of the office behind her to ensure that Gojo wasn’t returning at that very moment, she lets her curiosity get the better of her. She’s not sure who she assumes this letter is from, or what it’s contents are, but the mystery of it has her opening the flap and plucking out the folded paper inside.

Even the folds are neatly creased, folding up the single page into a rectangle that fits perfectly inside of the envelope. Whoever the letter was from clearly had an eye for the organized, unlike the recipient of said letter.

With great care she opens it up, holding the page between her fingers gently, afraid that a grip too tight could fold the page and soil it’s perfect condition.

Her eyes scan over the words quickly.

Gojo Satoru,

If you’re reading this, I suppose I mustered up the courage to actually deliver this to you. I’m sure that was no easy feat. I will try to keep this concise, as I’ve thought about writing this to you many, many times. Now that I’m actually doing it, I hope I can follow through.

(y/n) touches her fingers to lips as if to suppress the small gasp that escapes her. Could this have been from Geto Suguru? The thought makes a chill run down her spine, but against her better judgment, she keeps on reading.

Straight to the point. Life as a salary man is no better than life as a sorcerer may have proven to be. I’m making more money, I’m told I should feel joy in my successes, and I am successful, but there is no joy. I fear that without doing something for the good of the world, I won’t feel joy at all.

I fear I’ve made a grave mistake.

No, this couldn’t have been from Geto, right? With her deductions from the next few lines, (y/n) was growing confused at the point of view of the writer.

But who else was close enough to Gojo to write him a letter? Utahime? But it seemed as though the writer was a man. She chewed on her lip as she continued scanning over the words.

When I left Jujutsu Tech, I truly intended to never come back. I believed that in a world full of curses, and shit, that there was nothing anyone could do to make it a better place. For as long as sorcerers and non-sorcerers exist, their counterpart will always be curses. After Haibara, I believed my existence made no difference in jujutsu society, therefore leaving me no place in it.

I was wrong.

With wide eyes, the hand remaining on the page began to tremble, shaking the thin paper in the slightest and making it a bit more difficult to read. The gears began to fall into place, and (y/n) had a sneaking suspicion that this letter wasn’t from Geto Suguru at all.

More than that, I foolishly miss the things that once were. I miss feeling like I’m making a difference in the world, even if it’s minimal. I miss helping people. I even miss using my Cursed Technique.

And admittedly, I miss (y/n).

This time when she gasps, (y/n) presses her entire hand against her open mouth. It does little to stifle the noise.

I wish I could say that leaving was the right path for me, that I’m doing much better than I really am, but it would all be lies. I’m worse off than I’ve ever felt in my life. Turning my back on sorcery, and on (y/n), was a choice I’ll regret for the rest of my life.

The last time we spoke, you asked me to come back. You told me if I ever wanted to, that you’d make the arrangements. I’m sure you remember that I promptly told you to fuck off. I apologize. You were only trying to help, and for once, you were right.

I suppose this is me saying that I want to return.

Whatever means necessary, if I have to relocate to Kyoto, or start the process completely over, I’ll understand. I only ask two things. One, is for you to pull whatever strings you have in order to make it happen. I owe it to myself, to jujutsu society, and I owe it to (y/n).

The second ask is for you not to mention this to her until the decision is final. If I’m unable to return, no matter the reason, I don’t want her to know of the arrangement. I simply can’t have her thinking I’ve abandoned her a second time. I would rather she remember me as a deserter than a coward, as dreadful as that is.

I’d appreciate your discretion, and your aid. You have my number if you have any questions.

Finally, and slowest of all, her eyes drift to the signature neatly slanted at the bottom of the page. Her heart had previously been racing in her chest as she read the entire page in record time, but it suddenly plummets deep into her gut as her suspicions are confirmed.

Nanami Kento.

Her thoughts are so jumbled that all she can do is glance across the letter as if she would catch something new, as if she hadn’t already taken it all in, in it’s entirety, likely committing most of it to memory on her first read.

After Haibara…

… I was wrong…

… I miss (y/n)...

… lies… worse off… regret…

I appreciate your discretion…

“Ah, you found that, huh?”

When she turns to Gojo Satoru, who was standing in the doorway with a folder in his hands for an unknown amount of time, (y/n) doesn’t feel any shame in going through his things and reading a private letter that was very clearly not meant for her eyes. All she can do is stare at him, the evidence of her crime still in her hand.

She doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t move. Her hard gaze sets on him and it’s enough for him to know she’s demanding an explanation.

“He really didn’t want you reading that, y’know,” Gojo closes the door behind him this time, crossing the room and tossing the found folder on top of the freshly organized stacks of paper on his desk.

Emotions bubble up inside of her that she can barely get straight. She thinks she catches the tail end of desperation, which quickly morphs into rage, and then it burns into something completely unrecognizable.

“Too late now, though, huh?”

He has the nerve to grin, like he was amused by the entire thing. If her entire body wasn’t frozen stiff, she might’ve grabbed him by the collar and demanded a proper explanation from him. She might’ve threatened him if she had to.

Instead, all that comes out is,

“How long did you keep this from me?”

His smile falters, but he doesn’t quite frown. Just regards her with a neutral expression as he keeps calm. She hates that he had to be put through something so traumatic that he was forced to learn to keep his cool. In another life, she would’ve gotten all the information out of him that she’d need just from his initial reaction. Now, she has to dig and prod at him until he unwraps every layer and tears down every wall he’s created to protect himself.

What she doesn’t know, is the most twisted part is he’s thinking the same thing about her.

“Couple weeks”

“Weeks!?” She doesn’t mean to yell, her voice raises against her will, but she doesn’t apologize for the lack of professionalism.

“If you recall, you weren’t exactly supposed to be in the loop-”

“That’s bullshit, Satoru!” This time, she has every intent to yell, before she slams the page down on the desk with enough force to have a small breeze ruining the stacks of pages.

Neither one of them comment on it, but the way Gojo’s eyes slide slowly from the new mess she created before going back to her, speaks volumes. She ignores it.

“How could you keep this from me?”

“(y/n)-” Gojo barely has the time to let out a sigh before she’s shouting at him again.

“I deserved to know about this!” She’s jamming her finger into the letter hard enough that it hurts when she hits the oak desk underneath but she pays the throbbing no mind. “When did this happen? When is he coming back?”

“It’s… it’s still sort of up in the air,” He says quickly, as if he were unable to keep himself from indulging her in some of the details. “But it’s not solid yet, and you never heard a thing-!”

“Satoru,” (y/n) touches her fingers to her forehead as she sighs. “He’s clearly not doing well, what’s going on? How long have you been talking with him?”

He’s told her too much already, and he knows that if Nanami were to find out that (y/n) got her hands on this letter, he’d probably be throttled. If (y/n) didn’t beat him to it, that is.

“We’ve been talking for a while…” Gojo sighs, dropping himself into his chair and doing his best to avoid the bewildered and hurt expression that she’s currently wearing as she glares at him. “Look (y/n) it’s not like I was hiding this to upset you, alright? Nothing was set in stone and if it didn’t work out I didn’t… I just didn’t want to see anyone get hurt”

She scoffs, her head shaking at him in disbelief. Gojo frowns.

“You should take some time to sit with this,” He suggests, before reaching across the desk to push the letter towards her again. “You can take it, if you want”

Scoffing again, she snatches up the page. Her brows furrow as she tries to make him aware of just how disgusted she is by this entire ordeal, but the way her lips wobble and her eyes begin to fill with tears gives her away.

However she’d never break in front of Gojo Satoru, so without a word she turns her heel and storms out of the office, making sure to slam the door shut behind her.

Her hands tremble so much that the page quivers in her hold, creating the only sound in the barren corridor. Her movements halt when she realizes she’s alone in this space, and finally, a small broken gasp escapes her throat.

Willing herself not to cry, she tilts her head back and squeezes her eyes shut tight. It seemed that the emotions she’d suppressed and buried all those years ago were finally bursting at the seams to be let out. All of the anger, the loss, the disappointment- it clawed its way out of the hole in her chest and made it’s way up her throat.

With only a hard swallow and the strong will to keep herself from breaking down right here, she pushed it all back down.

She’s not sure what compelled her to pull her phone out of her pocket and hurriedly tap until she’s scrolling through her contacts list. But it’s as if her hands are working on muscle memory alone as she stops her scrolling under N and is clicking on Nanami Kento’s name as if it were normal to reach out to him.

Once his contact information sits before her, however, she freezes on the spot, thumb hovering over the screen. All that’s there is a phone number and an old school email she’d never removed from the page. He doesn’t even have a photo, as she’d added his number to her contacts before smartphones gave you the option to add a contact picture.

What, was she supposed to call him now? After all this time? Her thoughts grew bitter as she stared at the screen. He never reached out to her, not once, not after promising he would.

And yet, Gojo Satoru had kept in contact with him?

Her phone is locked and back in her pocket in two seconds before she’s marching herself out of the building and heading towards anywhere that she’d consider far enough away from the Special Grade Sorcerer.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The day Nanami returns is hectic. His arrival isn’t the only thing to blame, in fact, (y/n) could have almost forgotten about it completely. Almost.

She’d been sent off on back to back assignments, nasty curses popping up one after another and with the shortage of Jujutsu Sorcerers, she couldn’t exactly turn it down.

Even once they’d been exorcized- which wasn’t an easy feat- she’d returned to campus only to find Gojo had unsurprisingly abandoned his students for long enough that she’d stepped in and helped guide their training exercises. They were good students, and for the most part were able to take care of themselves, but every once in a while Panda would goof off a bit too much and once he and Inumaki were distracted, Maki was bound to get looped in as well. Other than that, she had no complaints about subbing in for their teacher.

And once it was all said and done and she could finally go home and start her unofficial routine, she was reminded of the reason she’d been so on edge today to begin with.

Nanami Kento stood at the grand main entrance of Jujutsu Tech. Alongside Gojo Satoru and Principal Yaga, but their presence registered a few seconds later.

Tunnel vision took over against her will, blurring away the other bodies, and then the entire surrounding area, until there was only Nanami Kento in her sights. If it weren’t for him, and knowing that it was simply the effect he had, she might’ve thought that the long day was getting on top of her and she was passing out.

He looked so different and yet exactly the same.

He’d clearly grown into himself. His hair was styled differently, no longer hanging over his forehead in that gloomy teenager way. He seemed a bit taller, a bit broader, and simultaneously just as handsome as she remembered, and even more so.

It was hard to tell how long she’d been standing there, frozen in place, but when she’s finally caught, it feels like it’s been hours.

It’s Nanami who sees her first- although she’s convinced deep down that Gojo knew she’d been there all along- and the look on her face makes her stomach twist with an unpleasant emotion.

He doesn’t react right away, as if he doesn’t recognize her, but just as quickly as the thought crosses her mind, his expression morphs. His eyes widen, and his jaw opens, but he doesn’t call out to her. Instead they both stand in place, a good ten feet apart, staring at each other as if for the first time.

More hours pass. It isn’t until Gojo turns towards her with the widest shit eating grin she’s ever seen that she’s broken from her daze. He waves her over, and she thinks he said something, but her feet are carrying her towards the group before she could actually listen to what he was saying.

Her eyes don’t leave Kento for even a second. Not a single stray to acknowledge her colleague or principal, there was nothing that could pull her attention away.

It takes a deep breath before she could actually find her voice.

“Welcome back, Nanami”

It comes out quieter than she intended, soft enough her voice almost fails her completely.

There’s the smallest of smiles on her face, genuine, but the confusion is still there in the way the corner of her lips twitch with discomfort.

It’s painfully silent between the group of four, she wishes someone would just say something, because she still can’t tear her eyes away from Nanami and the longer they stand there like that the more she worries she’ll combust.

Nanami doesn’t appear to have the same level of discomfort as her. He seems completely unphased as he stands among them. With his hands tucked casually into his pockets, and his expression unwavering in it’s neutral position.

As (y/n) begins to take notice of just how unmoved he is by standing here now- after everything, after he fucking left her here, after the letter- her discomfort grows into utter displeasure. With the silence that had settled between them since her approach, it was terribly obvious. Her nose twitched, her hands curled into stiff-knuckled fists at her sides, and her posture was so pin-straight it must’ve hurt, seeing as she didn’t usually stand so square.

“Just in time (y/n), we were just discussing Nanamin’s little welcome back party,” Gojo speaks up and finally (y/n) tears her fiery gaze away from the man that could hardly stand to avoid it. “You should come by. Tomorrow night after work,”

The look on her face doesn’t change even once she’s turned her attention towards Gojo, and he winces a bit the longer her eyes bore into him, but he continues on anyway.

“Everyone will be there, Shoko, Ijichi, even Utahime’s coming by,”

He makes it hard to find an excuse to say no, but (y/n) chalks that up to his personality. Since she’d found that letter a couple of weeks ago, he’d taken it upon himself to pester her and over-involve himself in her day-to-day. This wasn’t unlike him, she just hadn’t seen the behavior in quite some time.

“I’ll send you the address and you can come by, hm?” He’s nodding at her in confirmation before she can come up with a decent reason why she can’t go. Her teeth are sinking into her cheek as she gives him a small nod of her head.

“Yeah. Sure” Her words are as sharp and strained as she appears while speaking them. She gives a tight lipped smile to the three of them, and is walking away before she could get herself roped into anything else.

Her fists curl and uncurl at her sides as she briskly makes her way off the campus. It takes an effort not to break into a sprint.

Which is odd, because with the way her heart is reacting, she wanted nothing more than to turn back around and run towards him. Instead, with ragged breathing and misty eyes, she couldn’t get herself away fast enough.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Feeling yourself shut down was an odd sensation. She always thought that if something traumatic happened to her, she’d leave her body for an unknown amount of time while her mind works to process the heavy emotions.

Instead, it was like a weight was being set on her shoulders. Slowly pushing- and she knew it would crush her, she knew that soon this weight would be too much to carry, and she feared what would happen when it finally crushed her.

It feels as if there’s a giant pair of invisible hands holding her in place, keeping her frozen in the morgue. Another fear settled in the pit of her stomach- that those hands would hold her here forever.

Her eyes feel dry, despite all of the tears today. She forces herself to blink a few times every time they start to feel dry again. The long periods of staring without blinking was starting to go from irritating to painful.

“(y/n),”

Kento’s voice is a shock to her system, making her tense up before relaxing as she glances back at him, where he’s sat against the furthest edge of the room. She’d almost forgotten he’d been there too. Her heart breaks for the thousandth time that day seeing him press his face into a damp cloth.

“I can’t take this anymore”

She completely turns around then, although it hurts to turn her back on Haibara, she couldn’t bear to let Kento feel like he was alone in this moment.

The dryness in her eyes starts to go away as her tear ducts begin to swell.

“Kento…?”

Her voice cracks, and her throat tightens up on her so fast that the rest of her question dies on her tongue. She’s left standing there with nothing to say, nothing to offer. That is, besides her presence and this trauma they shared.

He drops the rag, revealing sunken eyes paired with dark semicircles, frown lines already prominent at the corners of his mouth. He looks how she feels- utterly wrecked.

When he looks at her, the numbness in her limbs is replaced with an icy chill. The invisible claws on her body tighten and lock in place. Even if she knew the right thing to do, the right way to comfort him, she can’t move a muscle.

It feels like ages before he sighs, and finally explains himself.

“I’m leaving,”

For his voice barely rising above a whisper, the simple words are loud and clear. And even though the numbness settles over her rigid body again, (y/n) assumes her face must have betrayed her as she stares back at him, because he suddenly looks startled as he watches her react to the news. Kento pauses, and clears his throat before he speaks up again.

“I… I have to,” He breathes out, an admission he’d not yet shared. All the higher ups needed to know was that he was dropping out and would be joining the workforce. They didn’t exactly care about the details. “I… I can’t take this anymore. I’m not…”

The words die before he ever really considers admitting the full truth to her. (y/n) was a strong and endlessly talented sorcerer. How could he admit to her that he just didn’t have what it took to be as strong as her? This past week had felt like test after test of his will, and at the end of it, Nanami decided to quit while he was down for the count. He couldn’t bear another loss- after Haibara, after Geto- it seemed it was only a matter of time before he witnessed the death of everyone he’d ever cared about.

He doesn’t voice any of this. Instead, he just shakes his head at her before he stands.

“I’ve already packed my things, and let the higher ups know”

(y/n’s) mouth opens and closes a few times, small gasps of disbelief coming in between her bouts of silence, but it takes a few tries before any words could come out.

“L-leaving?” For as quickly as her mind is running with this news, her words struggle to catch up. Her brows furrow as she struggles to find the right thing to say amongst the mess of thoughts in her head.

“I have a few interviews lined up,” His hand rubs the back of his neck and he has to turn himself away from her as he continues. It’s cowardly, and he knows that, but he wanted this all to come from him. Only him. “I’m not cut out to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Not… not like this”

She wants to tell him that’s not true, that he’s a fantastic sorcerer. Even if it means screaming at him in order for him to truly understand just how firmly she believed he belonged here.

Maybe the state of shock she was in was too great to properly articulate her thoughts. Or maybe she didn’t want to put more pressure on his choice by fighting for him to stay.

Either way, she doesn’t say a word.

Her mouth shuts and the tears in her eyes cling to her lashes with every blink. All she does is stare at him, and hope he’ll say something that will give her a sense of comfort with his bad news. A silver lining, a bright side.

Instead, Nanami Kento makes her a promise.

“It’s not like I’m just… disappearing,”

He glances back at her with great uncertainty. He’s never seen her cry before today, and he thinks it would break him completely if he was the cause of more tears.

“You know?”

His voice is a mumble, but he knows she hears him. He knows because her lips wobble as she tries to keep them from frowning, and eventually she presses them into a tight line.

“Anytime you want…”

He trails off, because he’s never done this before, and he’s not exactly sure what he’s supposed to say to convince her that if she ever needed anything he was a phone call away. Ironically, these are words he’s been trying to tell her since the day they met, but even now his throat gets that tight and scratchy feeling, and he chokes on them for the umpteenth time. His fingers flex outward, straining and trembling as he tenses the muscles in his hand to it’s fullest extent before he shoves it into his pocket and bites down on his cheek.

“I promise, alright?”

(y/n) swallows the lump in her throat, seeming to understand what the parts he’d failed to say. She was always better at reading between the lines than he was, but today especially, Kento feels like he’s failing her.

The feeling is so disgusting in his gut- hot, and churning in his insides- that he has to close his eyes to keep himself from looking at her again.

“Okay,” Is all (y/n) can manage to say at first. It’s quiet, her voice strained and raw and harsh to his ears despite her whisper. “You too, Ken” She adds after a few beats pass.

He hopes she knows she means it, that she promises it too.

If he does, he doesn’t indicate so.

That’s the last time she sees him before he leaves Jujutsu Tech, and it’s the last time they’ve spoken.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Social events weren’t (y/n’s) comfort zone. Maybe once, when she was younger, she would have been eager for such a party. All of her friends, the people who she loved most in this world, her makeshift family, in one place seemed so enticing at one time.

Now, it feels like a karmic punishment.

The way her stomach twists into knots despite only nursing her second drink, the way her skin pricks with anxious goosebumps anytime someone wanders too close to her and appears as though they wanted to catch up, it all starts to feel too much. It makes her sweat, and before she knows it she’s checking the time on her phone every five minutes. Then soon, every two.

Don’t get her wrong- she tried. She really did try. She hung around while Gojo and Utahime were fighting over a game of darts, and even though she didn’t partake she was there when the new kid, Takuma, ordered a round of shots for the group, she even sat and listened to as Nanami talked about his time as a salaryman. She wanted to appear as present as possible, even though she was far from her own mind.

It was just too hard, wasn’t it? To sit there and pretend like there was something to celebrate, that his return was the greatest news of the year. All it did was resurface ugly, buried feelings, and that mixed with just a couple of drinks created a pit in her stomach that only grew as the night went on.

Like an emotional black hole that would suck her up from the inside out.

Nanami had spoken about how the workforce wasn’t right for him, that it was full of selfish assholes who lacked basic human compassion, that it took and took and took and never provided a sense of fulfillment. The longer he spoke about the toxic environment, the more (y/n) felt the weight of it all on her shoulders.

Nothing had changed.

With a lame excuse mumbled to Shoko beside her, she swallowed down the last of her drink and left the table. Shoko wasn’t even given the chance to say anything- or ask her to repeat whatever she’d just missed- before (y/n) was walking right out of the bar.

Tokyo was cold this time of year, the light breeze enough to nip at any exposed skin, instantly making her nose and cheeks red.

It’s not pleasant, but it’s welcomed. Even with her arms wrapped around herself to preserve her fading body heat, the cool air felt good sucked in between her teeth as she began a breathing exercise that she hadn’t done since she was young and afraid of the career path she was on.

Not as afraid as she would be taking up a normal job in the city, working amongst vultures and hyenas and vile men that made high grade curses look a little more innocent, but, still.

She’s too lost in her focus to hear the pub door opening and shutting behind her, so when someone speaks, she looks surprised as she turns towards them.

“Hey,”

It’s quiet, but enough to draw her back to the chilly reality. Nanami Kento stands there with one hand in the pocket of his coat, the other extended towards her. He’d brought her coat out to her.

“You left that inside. Too cold to walk home without it, yeah?”

He’d spoken quite a bit tonight- or at least, a lot for him- and yet this was the most he’d actually spoken to her. It makes her stomach twist in that way that was once pleasant, but tonight? She thinks it might make her sick.

“I wasn’t going home”

She takes the coat, shrugging her arms into the sleeves and wrapping the front around herself as snug as she can get it. It’s not as much of a relief from the cold as she’d hoped.

“Looked like it”

His words aren’t sharp, they’re not accusatory, they don’t hold a hint of malice. But she almost wishes they had, because the defeated way he says it feels worse.

Her eyes shoot towards his, and for a split second, he thinks this is the moment she snaps. This is the part where she calls him out, for all the terrible things he’d done to her. He braces himself, flinching just a bit as he holds his breath and waits for what he deserved to be handed to him.

(y/n) sighs. Her shoulders slump downwards and a frown takes over her lips shortly after. The disappointment in her gaze is more brutal than anything she could have screamed at him. He wishes she would just scream at him.

“You should go back. Gojo will freak if you ditch your own party, you know”

She turns away from him again because she has to. She’s not brave enough to hold his persistent stare.

“I don’t want to”

“Well I don’t want you to-” She stops herself before those emotions could force themselves out. With a sharp inhale, she clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head, waits for the heat in her throat to be bearable enough to talk through. “Just… just go back inside, Nanami” She sighs out the non-threatening demand, hoping he’d turn around without another word and disappear.

Hearing her call him by his surname felt like a knife to the back. Not that it wasn’t what he deserved, he understood why she called him that, and he didn’t exactly expect to hear her call him Kento, or Ken in that sweet voice she used to- always delighted to see him, always smiling when his name would fall from her lips before her entire face would light up. Hearing Nanami followed by her eyes darting to look at anything but his was like a punishment.

“I don’t want to do that” He repeats himself, and she wants to be upset with him for how calmly he speaks, because he makes it seem so easy, while she’s standing there like a ticking bomb trying desperately to slow down time.

“It’s freezing” She tries to argue.

“I don’t mind the cold”

“I’m not great company right now”

“I’ve never thought that”

With the mental timer still ticking, she spins on her heel, her brows furrowed as she regards him with a pitiful sort of glare. All of the sadness she’d been trying to shield with anger was on full display.

“You left me,”

It finally comes out in the heat of the moment, and as soon as the words are spoken she wishes she could take them back- she’d do anything to pack them back up in the box of ugly emotions and bury it somewhere new where no one could ever find it- but it’s too late now. They hang in the air between them like a taunt over her head.

“You promised that you weren’t disappearing,” Her voice cracks and the strain of her voice gives away the tears in her eyes but even in her humiliation she can’t stop herself. For a moment, she’s completely out of her body, looking down at herself as she shoves a finger into his chest and begins to properly cry. “And then you did”

The words are barely audible, spoken through such a shaky whimper that any other person in the world wouldn’t have been able to understand her. But Nanami Kento knew exactly what she was saying. He’d heard her say this all before, almost every night during the nightmares that plagued his sleep.

“(y/n)-”

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything, because her dam had already been broken, and there was nothing she could do to stop the rush of all the pent up emotions now. All the energy they’d drained out of her all these years came flooding out, and it was bound to take him out with her.

“And then you wrote ‘toru that fucking letter,”

She doesn’t have the ability to yell anymore, but even the whispered confession is enough to shut him up. His eyes go wide, and his mouth opens but he has nothing to say. If she read that letter, then there was nothing for him to say. She already knew everything he’d been hoping to keep from her.

Which, thinking about it now, it was foolish of him to believe keeping her in the dark so they could start fresh would ever be the outcome of all of this. He should’ve known Gojo would dangle that letter in front of her like an enticing piece of gossip rather than the deep felt note it really was. He winced and stared down at his feet for a moment as he recalled everything he’d said with the confidence of privacy.

“What was I supposed to make of that?” (y/n) whispers, and it doesn’t sound rhetorical, with the way she stares at him with those wide, teary eyes, but she’s speaking again before he can even come up with a response. “I know you didn’t want me to see it and- and honestly a part of me wishes I hadn’t, maybe this would b-be easier, but…” She sniffles as she begins to stammer, her head shaking again in the hopes it would make her words more clear and concise. “But I did see it and it’s not easy it’s- it’s really hard”

He’s not sure what compels him to be so bold, but when she uncrosses her arms to aggressively rub the tears off of her cheeks, Kento reaches out and takes her wrist before she could defensively cross her arms again. Her eyes go wide from the surprisingly gentle action, but she doesn’t try to pull away.

“It is hard. It’s my fault that it’s hard,” He tells her softly.

Seeing the tears still swelling in her pretty eyes makes his throat start to close up, and he can’t help but be reminded of the last day he’d seen her. He’d been the cause of her tears then, too.

“I’m sorry, (y/n). I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just… I was young, and what I thought was right was so foolish-”

“A complete idiot” She mumbles weakly. He nods back at her in agreement.

“I know,” He murmurs, and the warmth that the softness of his voice ignites in her chest is bound to spread through her and weaken her knees soon enough. “I meant it all, though. What I wrote. I missed purpose. I missed… you,”

I missed you too sits on her tongue like lead.

“I should’ve written to you directly, I know that now, and if I could take it back I would but… when I wrote that letter, I still wasn’t sure if I’d…” He trails off, his eyes glancing around as he tries to find the right thing to say, which might have been useless, seeing as he’d been saying all the wrong things for most of his life. “I didn’t know if I’d be strong enough to come back. Strong enough for you. I… (y/n), I left because I wasn’t strong enough to stay. I didn’t… I couldn’t put you through that again”

It’s messy, and it takes a moment for her to process it all, but slowly, it all clicks into place and she finally starts to understand what his motivations were in all of this.

“Kento…” She sighs, and it’s not quite like old times, but it does ignite an old spark in him that makes the corner of his mouth quirk upwards for just a brief moment. “I didn’t need you to be any stronger than you already were,”

Her fingers tremble as she slides her arm out of his hold, only to ghost the pads of her fingers over his palm. Even after the years spent away from jujutsu sorcery, the palms of his hands still bore the rough calluses of a man wielding a weapon. Her eyes darted towards his hand as she made contact with it, eyeing the way he offered his open palm to her, but made no move to take her hand. He waited.

“I didn’t need you to be anything,” She murmured, glancing up at him then. Her hand hovered over his still, but the pounding of her heart still caused it to shake. “I just wanted you safe. If that meant leaving then- then fine, but not knowing how you were, if you were okay, if you were happy, I… I hated that”

She had her other hand wrapped around his heartstrings, he was sure, because the tugging on them was relentless and painful. Kento had to clear his throat before a choked gasp could come out of it.

The urge to apologize over and over, until I’m sorry are the only words he knows how to say, until his throat is bloody and raw, strikes him so hard he almost actually does.

“(y/n),”

Her name is murmured so softly his lips barely moved, breathed out so gently it was stolen and silenced by a sharp gust of wind that cuts between them. Finally, her hand falls into his, as if the weight was too much for her to hold anymore. Her fingers clasp around his palm as if muscle memory took over as soon as they touched, as if seven years apart meant nothing at all when it came to them.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” His eyes flicker in between hers, and he can’t stop his free hand from reaching out, hesitating only a moment before the cool pads of his fingers brush away the tears still stuck to her cheek. “But… I don’t want to lose you again. I left because I couldn’t stand to lose you and I… I did anyway, didn’t I?”

It’s like the final thread keeping her heart afloat is snapped, and it shatters as it crashes in her stomach. Something escapes her upon that impact, something between a gasp and a sob, and it has Kento pressing his entire hand against her face, cupping her cheek and hoping he could provide even an ounce of the comfort she deserved. This was all because of him, after all. A knot forms between his brows and she frowns deeply as he takes in all of the hurt she’s feeling, taking responsibility for every second of it.

“No,” She breathes out, her head barely shaking with the protest. “I loved you, Ken,” She confesses, and she’s not sure if it relieves a weight on her chest or makes it worse, but she runs with it.

There was nothing left to lose, they’d made enough mistakes already, one more couldn’t hurt, right?

“I- I still love you, I’ll always love you,” She starts to stammer but there’s not a single pause in her voice. “Whether you stay or leave, that doesn’t just go away”

The pad of his thumb presses a little harder into her cheekbone, and he moves in closer, staring at her intently as he takes in everything she said, basking in it, in all of it’s melancholy and sweetness, in the relief of after all these years, finally knowing how she feels. Finally knowing that he’d never imagined things, that his feelings were reciprocated.

“I loved you, too,” He murmurs, and with the hand that’s still holding hers, he squeezes, maybe tighter than he should have, but he needed to make sure this wasn’t another cruel nightmare that he’d wake up from any second now. He lets a beat pass just to be sure. “I still love you, too” He repeats.

She sniffles, gasps quietly, and then the smallest of smiles begins to stretch across her lips.

When she leans forward, he brushes his lips over the crown of her head before he presses his forehead into hers. His eyes fall shut and he keeps his hold on her secure. It was still freezing out, the cold had settled in all of his limbs by now, but he needed to be with her here just a little bit longer.

“You don’t know how much I missed you, Ken” She mumbles, the tip of her cold nose brushing into his as she pressed a little bit closer.

He chuckles, and it’s not a humored laugh, more bittersweet and regretful, but it warms her heart just to hear it anyways. When he whispers back to her it’s so sweet that she melts away completely. Her shattered heart is welded back together solely through the power of Nanami Kento’s gentle presence and even gentler words.

“I think I have a pretty good idea, sweetheart”

[ cause this is crazy love // i’ll catch you on the flip side ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

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galacticseonghwa · 5 months

Text

matching outfits i think NCT 127 would wear with their girlfriends

INCLUDES: 127 x gfs!, fluff, me just typing out my delusions about 127 wearing matching fits. in honour of 600 followers🫶🏼 thank yous so much🫶🏼 wc: tbc a/n: if yous would like a male or gender neutral version of this please let me know! i tend to get carried away with idol x fem!reader plots/posts. but i don't want yous to be afraid to ask! ALL PICTURES I DO NOT OWN AND ARE ALL OFF PINTEREST

TAEIL taeil loves matching outfits with his gf, however he doesn't mind not doing it all the time. he never pushes you to wear matching outfits 24/7 but rather waits for you to ask him, he'll then pull out a minimum of 17 different matching outfits he's bought through out the last month because he thinks you two would look so good wearing them. he's the type to wear very simple yet classy matching outfits that match yous both.

JOHNNY now sir john john is neither here nor there when it comes to matching it outfits. once in a blue-moon he'll ask you if you want to wear matching outfits, and they're usually monotone casual fits he deemed 'cool' enough to wear. but when you're the one who offers to wear matching fits it's usually cute fits to wear around the house and practice room which he's more than happy to wear.

TAEYONG tyong is defiently the type to love matching outfits but doesn't make too much of a fuss about wearing them. although he loves wearing matching casual fits with you, he especially loves wearing matching outfits when yous got out for very "fancy" dinner dates or just fancy dates in general. so nine times out of ten yous wear fancy/classy matching outfits.

YUTA yuta is defiently the type of bf to want his gf to have a similar fashion style to him. he'd love to wear matching outfits with you just as long as there's a techno or 'grunge' sort of twist to it. he just loves the idea that you both like the same fashion style, also gives him the right to steal clothes of your because "you haven't warn it since.." so if a shirt of yours goes missing it was surely him.

DOYOUNG doyoung seems like the type to wear matching outfits with you only when he gets to choose the fits. not that he doesn't trust you with choosing them or that he doesn't like your fashion style but because he likes the sense of control it gives him. he often likes wearing matching outfits that compliment the both of you.

JAEHYUN oh he absolutely loves it, but he'll NEVER admit to anyone, especially you. he'll make it his life mission to let you know that he hates matching outfits with his being, but he will go ahead and repost a matching couple outfits onto his private instagram acc (you can NOT tell me they don't have accs to sneak around on), saying how much he "hates" it just so you see it and get the exact outfit he posted. he loves any matching outfit. still, he adores the ones you buy because you thought of him the second you laid your eyes on it, but again he will never tell you just how much he loves it.

JUNGWOO he's not really all for it but that doesn't mean he won't do it. he's more of the type to not bother with that kind of thing, but when you beg him so cutely how can he say no? if you somehow manage to get him to agree, he's definitely the one choosing the outfits. he loves the matching outfits that are quite literally the same save for the female/male differences between them.

MARK he LOVES matching outfits. he will happily wear matching outfits just as long as there's a spiderman fit in there somewhere. whenever he's on tour or away from you for long periods of time he'll buy matching outfits he sees while he's away. he's into the cliche kinds of matching outfits or the very subtle matching outfits. he's into it all. you'll sometimes catch him asking you to wear a certain outfit to go see him at the dorms only for him to be in the exact same outfit when you arrive.

HAECHAN haechan absolutely LOVES matching outfits. he will quite literally beg for yous to wear matching outfits, whether it is casual outfits, formal, or even pyjamas. he loves wearing the prettiest matching casual outfits but it has to be the goofiest pyjamas ever. he laughs in your face when you whine about how you don't want to wear them, the only way he gets you to agree is by kissing your pouty lips. "you look cute baby."

NCT DREAM version will be next

#galacticseonghwa #nct #nctzen #nct 127 #nct 127 fic #lee taeyong #moon taeil #johnny suh #yuta nakamoto #kim doyoung #jeong jaehyun #kim jungwoo #mark lee #lee haechan

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thesharktanksdriver · 11 months

Text

Determination (Platonic)

Part 1 Part 3 Shanks beast pirates

Tagged: @peachsuka28 @emptynessinmyworld @badluckinfrench @j-s-l-m @tigerfang-rage @madokamagicaa @rymtea

Please give some suggestions of others y/n has met on their journey in the comments. I wanna see who else people want them to befriend/meet

I plan to later on do an entire thing for marineford. Be prepared for that and more stuff about y/n’s devil fruit

Once again this is non linear. Partially cause it’s easier that way and cause y/n has lived so long that their memories are kinda jumbled/they don’t really perceive time anymore (I kinda focused on that in this)

At some point in your eternal journey you began to write down your adventures into a small notebook

It’s leather bound with bright lettering on the front

A custom clasp in the shape of a star to keep the soft yellowed pages tight together

Sometimes you read it when out at sea with nothing to do but letting the wind guide your way to place of new and old

Before tucking it away into the pocket of Roger’s coat

Old ink of a dark navy blue stands out on the paper

Stark against the light yellow

With your feet dipped in the salty water of the place you called paradise you pull it out once more

Content in relaying over memories and people you’d once met

Let’s see who we have in store for today

Sengoku

Waking up on Marineford of all places after dying was certainly not on your list of islands you wanted to visit

An island dyed white and blue with golden accents sprinkled throughout the crowds of marines that walk through the area

The headquarters sat at the very top, loud and proud on the crescent moon shaped island

Honestly you very much contemplated just jumping into the sea to end up somewhere else

But as you stood at the very edge of the bay , leaning a bit forwards as the sapphire blue waves crash against the old stone walls

A hand grasps your shoulder

Turning around your met with the sight of a marine you had vaguely remembered Garp talking about

Sengoku, the Buddha

Your eyes trail upwards past his face to the pelican sat atop his marine hat

It stares down at you as does the marine who looks at you with concern

Especially since he sees no fear in your eyes along with contemplation

You had seriously thought about jumping into the sea all Willy nilly

It wasn’t even accounting the fact you may have a devil fruit

He quite literally drags you into the base, you don’t really complain since he gives you crackers

Similar ones to Garps favourites though a different brand

He sits you down, trying to get as much information out of you

It…isn’t successful

Your just chilling in his office, eating, looking around and giving the vaguest answers ever

Like he asks you about the island your from and you respond “a summer island a long ways from here. A place where fruit is plentiful and the corrupt hands of society do not touch” or some shit

He’s too stressed to deal with that type of shit so he doesn’t push further

Garp has been in his ass as of late along with the fact he’s worried about Rosinante

So his solution is to for now allow you to work as a delivery person for letters and documents

You actually quite enjoy it

Meanwhile this poor man is stressing over the fact that there is seemingly zero leads to any parents?

He’s just gotten somewhat unclear reports about a child on a raft drifting from island to island

Someone who reportedly has a track record of befriending the most unlikely of people

His migraines are getting worse at this point

You come to like the somewhat stern marine, oftentimes talking to him once done delivering letters and such around base

Most conversations are on ethics, morality and life

It’s odd but the way you talk about it seems as if your a weathered person who had seen more than the eye can see

Something in him leads him to feel as if your older than you looked

And then you somehow end up doing the most child-like thing and that feeling momentarily goes away

It’s weird and conflicting

But something he comes to get used to

In a lot of ways you remind him of his adoptive son

You have his smile and kindness that you extend to others even if they had sneered at you in the halls

The energy to complete a job no matter how big or small

A pension for somehow ending up in some sort of danger, though now it’s not from having two left feet

It’s from a lack of spacial awareness and not having any care for your safety

You’d think after such a long time seemingly on your own there would be some sort of fight or flight instinct

But from what he could observe there was absolutely none

It leaves him scared

He grew to care for you

See you as someone he’d take in within a heartbeat

But despite that and the offers he gives you of a home with fresh meals and someone who would care for you

You decline every time

Your tired from going to place to place yet you decline all offers of a stable life

A child should want some sort of stability, yet you throw that to the wind

He supposes that your burning determination and self sufficiency are good factors but a child your age shouldn’t have that

You should be carefree and going on a whim

But instead as he looks in your eyes he sees the tired visage of someone who had long lost their innocence to the world despite the laid back nature you show

It’s sad, it leaves him sometimes awake wondering what exactly you had been through

Maybe it was marines, it would explain your apprehension at first around him

Hair standing on end despite the lax facade you put up

Eyes looking at him with caution like a frightened and cornered cat. Calculating how to best go about the situation

The way in which you discuss with him about justice and what it meant

He digs more and finds scraps of nothing

Meanwhile as all that happened you were blissfully unaware of his spiral of worries

Just focusing on your job as you memorized the headquarters and marine procedures

You had nothing else to do plus it could come in handy

Along with that you befriend some of the few decent marines

One of which you spend quite a lot of time with despite Sengoku complaining about the smoke smell that hangs off your uniform…and the second hand smoking risk

Not like it can kill you quick so you don’t really care

You listen in on a lot of juicy marine rumours

There is quite a surprising amount of it

Despite your comfortable happiness here it’s merely an afterthought

You know you can’t stay here long

It feels as if it betrays Roger and the many other pirates you had found yourself in the company of

You desire freedom and marines are in direct opposition of that

But with this experience you find growth in your views

Marines weren’t all bad. They served the purpose of keeping order, something naturally needed in the world

But they are overstepping, wanting entire control when there needs to be a balance of both order and chaos to keep things in line

Plus you met a few that you’d otherwise consider good people in a system they thought would do good

You can’t fault them for that, not when so many sought out with good intentions

Secretly you prepare your leave, your boat already having washed up in the bay a few week back

Your not sure why but it always seemed to show up where you were

Maybe another aspect of your devil fruit? You don’t know it’s full capabilities but don’t question it

You’d rather let life do what it does best and put things in order if the stars align

At this point your prepared to leave but hold out for a bit longer for Sengoku’s sake

But then you delivered to him a letter whilst he was having a meeting with a fellow marine

Even before you enter the room you can recognize Garp’s boisterous laughter

Despite his now more apparent age from time he’s still eccentric and buzzing with excitement

As you enter the room you keep your head down and caps brim tilted as to shadow your face

Sengoku notices this but doesn’t voice it aloud as Garp laughs about something

He barely gets a image of you before your out the office

Heading to the small room designated as your own as you write a letter saying goodbye

You can’t stay, can’t risk it

Sengoku arrives a couple hours later completely exhausted from Garps usual rambling

He’s not sure how someone can go from business to about his grandsons

He has your dinner in hand, apparently you never showed up at the mess hall

His voice and knocks are responded with silence

Worry gnaws away at him, the feeling of something being wrong apparent more than ever

the door creaks open and your not there

What he’s met with is an open window with sheets cascading down the wall and a note

He runs to the pier despite knowing your not there

It’s there he takes time to actually read the note

A thank you but an explanation about how you must leave. Head off towards yet another adventure in the grand world you called home

Tears cascade down his cheeks as he reads it

They do not get better when it tells him that you would always remember his kindness

And that he taught you something valuable to viewing the world

Heading back to his office he thinks back to his son once more

Something finally coming to mind

He swears he remembers Rosinante mentioning someone similar to you as a childhood friend

The only person him and his brother had as children

He shoo’s off that thought though

They were dead

His son watched that firsthand

But because of that he knows that Rosinante would want to know of you

He takes the picture he took of you in the delivery uniform and placed it in a letter

He’d have his son look into perhaps finding you

Or at least extending a helping hand if he hand found you adrift at sea

He’d stash away the reminders of your stay lest he get an earful from Garp

Speaking of which, the idiot hero of the people seemed more alert for some reason. Just saying he was on the look out for an old friend…odd

Kid pirates

They find your ship as your drifting at sea

You were fishing at the time, passing the time plus trying to get some potential food

And then you see this giant ship pull up near yours

Your not really scared though a bit surprised cause you recognized that Jolly Roger

You’d heard a lot about this crew, but you didn’t know who was the captain

Seems like your question will be answered

Staring down from the side of the ship is someone with fiery red hot hair and someone wearing a mask with an equally wild mane of golden locks

For some reason though the red head looks familiar

Extremely…ohhhh you knew him

Oh shit you knew him when he was a kid

And now he’s grown up (you’d hadn’t even realized it’s been that long) and your still as young as you were back then

With no possible explanation to write you off as a different person

Shit-

Before you can do anything your lifted out from your ship via a metal bracelet on your arm made of wire and screw

Curtesy of Kid all those years ago who stares at you with a mixture of confusion, shock and anger

His crew is watching with batted breath wondering what he’ll do

“I’m guessing you want an explanation”

“No shit”

“Captain let’s take this someplace private”

With that the two take you to his workshop, a place similar to the one he had growing up

Yet it’s now not just a shack

Around the room there’s metal scraps and almost completed projects scattered around

It smells of iron, rust, determination, stubbornness and oil

All of which you’d come to associate with the red haired captain you now sit across from

And of killer who you now recognized despite the mask

You don’t have much of a choice to tell the truth

Especially since you know for a fact both would be able to tell if your lying

Kid is angry, perhaps not at you but for the circumstances of your life

It’s no wonder that even as children you were a bit odd

Staring off into space as you’d say some weird cryptic shit

But it also explains the sadness as well

The few times he caught you silently mourning something or someone in the dead of night

His anger fades though and becomes something else when you mention you didn’t know the years had flown by and he was grown up now

It scares him

You hadn’t realized the large passage of time from when you left that one night to now

When you admit that your even a bit shaken and confused but shrug it off

That really fucking terrified him especially when you begin to recount some of what you’d done in that time

For so long he and Killer assumed you died but perhaps you had something worse than that

You’d lived through so much

Through bloodshed and war

Through loss and grief

Countless deaths of not only the people you’d formed a connection with but yourself

Pain was now a meer concept to you

He sees how strong you are (and he heavily respects that) but at the same time how close you are to the breaking point

When Kid cares for someone it’s akin to molten steel

It’s burning brightly and protectively forming a hard barrier towards it and danger

There are a few people he’d ever stick his neck out for to protect (that being his crew and Killer)

And one of them is you, the only other person in his childhood that ever stood through thick and thin with him

By god will he ever admit it through words but with actions

And his actions are subtle as hell to those who don’t know him

On deck as his crew are rowdy he makes sure to keep out and eye for you, especially considering how your prime bumping into material for being so short

Luckily for him though your usually on someone’s shoulders or being playfully tossed around

Despite how clashing the rest of the crew’s personalities are from your own you fit in. Your calmness allowing you to go with the flow of their escapades

It’s not really surprising to him, but there are a few of the crew who comment about it

There were a lot of ways to describe you but he thought the best was the eye of the storm

A peace and calm within the swirling winds of danger and chaos

Bringing a calm breeze and momentary warmth

It’s easy for him to notice but his men are more content

Happy as you indulge in games with them or give a break from the hecticality of life at sea

This is of course all good and nice but Kid is somewhat huffy when you spend too much time with them

When this happens killer usually gives you a signal so you go spend time before kid ends up destroying something

One of his favourite pastimes with you is having you help with his tinkering

Sitting in a small chair made of metal and scrap as he works diligently

During these times he doesn’t talk, just listens as you tell stories or stay silent with him

It’s therapeutic in some way

Especially since the only background noise is the clanking of metal

Sometimes you ask about his devil fruit power and he shows off

Making you oh and ah about the versatility of what he can do

It makes something in him swell with pride especially since you look at him with awe

Just as he did as a kid when you told stories of pirates

During the late nights in which his crew are asleep you both talk

He digs deeper into your stories and gets madder and madder when more and more of your life is exposed

Most of your responses when hearing the truth is pity but his is anger

A weird but validating reaction that makes your long died out anger ignite a little

He lets you punch, scratch and scream to let it all out. Encouraging you to do so

Sometimes you swear you can see a brightly shining star in him. His determination for something that burns like a furnace used to heat up metal to bend to his whim

Killer is much like kid in the fact that he’s worried about and cares but he goes about it a much different way

He’s the only voice of reason on this ship

And he’s honestly glad to have someone else who’s level headed

As much as he loves his captain and crew it can kinda get annoying sometimes when he’s the only responsible person

Your at least not jumping to set the ship on fire every 3 minutes unlike some people

Hearing your situation now makes a lot of sense when thinking back to when he and Kid where young

There were a lot of inconsistencies and things that didn’t make sense

But now they do on the fact you were a seemingly immortal traveler

It makes him upset like Kid though

Your situation wasn’t fair

Your life wasn’t the dream your once made it out to be

Sure there are moments of happiness dispersed through the cold harsh waters but it took you dying in horrible ways to get there

You didn’t see that but you felt it’s affects

The occasional times he’d have you help cooking and then you’d blank out

Be stuck in your mind till he snaps you out of it and you explained how you were once eaten

It’s terrifyingly eye opening to how the world treats someone like you

A kind and calm soul who only wants freedom amongst the waves

Yet though they are sometimes treated with kindness there is also cruelty

Like Kid it leaves him angry

Upset on how you let yourself be treated in such a way along with brushing it off

Not only that but it’s also concerning

How you endure the worst things he could imagine yet it seems to be an afterthought

Until he finds you in the middle of the night staring out at the darkness with a certain look in your eye

There’s not much he nor Kid can do but he promises himself he’d try

Try for your sake to actually value yourself

Killer on the ship is the cook amung other duties as well, but cooking is his favourite

He has you help out as a second pair of hands

To be honest he doesn’t trust anyone else on the ship to cook without accidentally (or purposefully) poisoning someone so he usually does it alone

It’s the only time of peace on this madhouse that he calls of home

And it’s nice he gets to share it with someone

He assigns small tasks for you to do on the account your still a kid (despite how much you protest and say your literally older than him)

Cutting vegetables, grabbing ingredients, taste testing and stirring are your main priorities

But occasionally he has you help with other things as long as he can keep a close eye on you

He knows for a fact if you hurt yourself you wouldn’t tell him and brush it off

And by god he doesn’t need you to die of something stupid just cause you didn’t care to tell him

Unlike Kid he’s not afraid to verbally give affection

It’s just in private moments that he prefers it

Soft thank you’s and moments in which he admits he had missed having you around

The logical side of him knows he and Kid can’t convince you to stay but the emotional side tries anyways

Showing you how happy you could be if you stayed here

How the crew saw you as their own

How much safer you’d be rather than just drifting from place to place

It’s a loosing battle but one he tries anyways cause he cares

And he knows Kid cares despite the fact he tries to deny it

Cause Killer knows Kid

Seen how the red haired captain had been more motivated as of late

How much happier he is

The fact that when you bring up leaving the red haired captain locks himself in his workshop for the night to try and distract himself

He wishes you’d see how much you affected people, affected them

Cause despite what you thought of yourself your able to do the impossible

You leave a real impact on those you’d met even if it was for a short time

The crew sometimes pester him for answers on how he and Kid already knew you but he doesn’t budge

That’s a private matter that only you could disclose if you so wanted to

But for now he just says you were friends beforehand which gets some confusion

Speaking of the crew, he watches as you interact with them

Quickly somehow worming your way into their hearts as you did his

Watches as you play poker and they teach you how to cheat at the game or sing shanties while they drink

He may or may not have gave a few a good knock on the head for letting you take a few sips

(Kid hides the fact he gave you some as well)

He carry’s you off to bed and sneaks you some sweats he snagged at a port

Even allows you to brush and braid his hair in private

Kid once walked in and laughed his ass off about killer going soft

And then the two had a playful fight

Meanwhile you sat there laughing

It was like old times

As always you eventually leave but not before the crew throws a large party in your honour (and partially to drink the feelings away)

Before you set off again kid gifts you a bracelet made by him and a small piece of paper

To always find them if you needed their help

You smile and set off, not knowing how the crew stares with ignorant hope you’d turn around

Crocodile

Your not sure how but somehow you ended up in a desert with absolutely no idea of what island this was

Naturally you decided to lay in the sand and wait to die so you’d wake up somewhere else

But a few hours into that a shadow obscures the harsh sun that had been glaring at you for hours

A man, black slicked hair and elegant clothes with a golden hook for a hand

Beside him is another man, what you assumed to be a bodyguard of sorts

“Hi what desert is this?. I’d like to know where exactly I am before I die”

Yeah they definitely didn’t expect that for an answer

But with what you said you seemed to intrigue the hooked man

“Alabasta. What are you doing out here in the first place alone kid?”

“Woke up here. Was waiting to die”

Admittedly crocodile was just gonna save you as to make his imagine of being the hero of this country even better but now you’ve really got him interested

Even Daz was somewhat surprised and intrigued by your comment and lax attitude towards death (even your own)

So as he takes you back to the city, taking in the fame that came with it, he decides to “look after you” until your parents come to claim you

As any kind Samaritan would do

Your calling bullshit on that but amuse his words anyways

At his casino he talks to you as he does paperwork and take mysterious calls you leave the room for

While your curious you respect his privacy which he seems to appreciate

Crocodile is a peculiar man

Someone of specific interests and a golden viper-like tongue that leads to fools eating out the palm of his hand

You can see that though, quite easily actually

Eyes looking past the hand he holds out to the hook he hides behind his back and goons just behind the corner

He honestly applauds that you see it

In his words your “a smart kid.” Which you assume is something he doesn’t say often

Much like an oasis in the scathing sands of the desert

Your conversations with him are much more personable rather than focusing on his clearly defined goals and plans

That isn’t your business to divulge in, but his character is up to your judgment

He’s obviously not a good person but half of the people you’d called friends were criminals and killers alike

Sure some had morals but there’s still a stated fact that they had taken lives in pursuit of their goals

Roger included

You’d be a hypocrite to think otherwise

Talks often involve subjects of death and the goal of freedom

And what freedom meant in this world that was quickly having it taken away

Crocodile is tinged by death much like the lingering smell of his cigars

It follows him like a plague, like sand stuck to your clothes after getting wet

Yet despite that it’s a clearly interesting topic to him especially since you disregard your own safety

He’d seen it in the desert and at his casino where you nearly got shot by an angry patron

You don’t care about your own death

But when it comes to others it’s a different story

It’s interesting to him

Why were you so selfless in the fact you’d carelessly throw your life away for someone else’s

In this world it’s one only won by the selfish

He’s a prime example of that

At his core he knows he’s selfish, his goal is an example of that fact

Yet despite how foolish it is to not be selfish…with you it’s admirable

You don’t have some sunny and innocent view on the matter. You know it’s a loosing game yet you pursue it anyways

Perhaps it’s more foolish in that way but you don’t care

Not when you have the freedom to choose and make those choices anyways

Freedom matters to you more than words can describe and he relates

It is freedom that let him make the course of his own destiny

Changing who he once was to the person he is now

Now comfortable in his own skin and confident in his abilities and identity

Perhaps it’s cause you had your freedom taken away at some point but you relate in some way

Not having the choice in a matter and suffering due to it

He doesn’t go into full detail on the matter but you have a knowing look in your eye and a semblance of deep respect because of it

It makes a part of him feel light and airy

Despite all the clearly scummy aspects of himself that are as clear as day to your eyes….you respect him

Some still deeply insecure part of him curls up at that and wants to cry

You respected him

That’s something he’d always wanted

It’s not motivated by fear and greed but true respect for the hardships he’d been through to get here

Worry curls up in his gut, swirling and violent like the sands storms he creates

Shit, he’s attached

What’s worse is that you’d wormed your way into the others hearts as well

Even Daz has to admit you grew on him

Your a lot like a cancerous sore. Growing and spreading to a new part of the body

Yet he can’t will himself to cut you off

And neither does his inner circle

It complicates things but at this point he accepts it after a brief moment of reflection and thought

He hadn’t thought of trying to find your parents and had the posters taken down

Now fully intending to keep you as his own

He doesn’t ask you on the matter, just slowly begins the process

Decorating your room to your preference

….which was very hard considering you didn’t have one and settled for the bare minimum most of the time

Yeah it’s a bit of a challenge especially since your beginning to catch on real quick

It’s kinda easy to tell when someone goes from “I’m keeping you around for entertainment” to “I’m keeping you around as my kid now”

While you appreciate the offer and effort you don’t particularly like your freedom being impeded upon

“You know that’s hypocritical right?”

“Yes but when have pirates ever been people of their word?”

“Touché…but I’m still not happy about this”

As this happens he begins to dig deeper to who you are

Intent on figuring out if you had parents and if he could perhaps…get “custody” to put it broadly

But that becomes a challenge when there’s seemingly nothing about you except for vague whispers across the sea

A legend

A story

A song

It’s old, going back to the days of Roger and references to before that as well

A tale of a star that never really died

It’s forgotten to many but to a few it still lives on

And he has the vaguest idea from the description in the song that it’s you

But for awhile it’s a mere speculation

Until you end up dying in front of him from a deal gone wrong

Despite the fact you knew the bullet would pass through his body you instinctually throw yourself in front of him

The bullet piercing your chest

A deafening silence filling the moment between him and his inner circle of baroque works

And then chaos

Their swiftly dealt with, the perpetrator personally having their body liquids drained within mere moments

And then he’s at your side as Bentham does their best to stop the bleeding

Despite the fact your bleeding with a piece of led stuck in your chest your unfazed

Shrugging it off as “pain is a concept to me at this point”

It makes him angry, sad and determined all at the same time

Angry at the fact you must’ve experienced so much pain that something like this is nothing to you

Sadness that you’ve went through this before

And determination to stop it from happening again. To have the ability to protect you

“Let it be known that when you come back I’ll be looking for you”

“So you know?”

“Had some connections…found an old story but you just confirmed it”

You giggle lightly at that, not even wincing as you cough up some blood with your laughter

They all watch as your eyes fade of their light and then after that your body breaks into sparkling dust

Crocodile is a selfish man, one driven by ambition and greed

It’s funny you think he’d let go someone he considered to be a diamond in the rubble

One that shone as bright as a star in the sky

He extinguishes his cigar under his boot, grasping the small bits of starlight in his hand before it slips through his fingers like sand

He chuckles, how ironic

In the world populated by the greedy he intends to be king

And a king guards his treasure especially something that is as priceless as you are in this world

“Watch out kid. You’ve gotten me attached and there’s no undoing that now”

Boa Hancock

For a brief time you had spent a couple months or so as a celestial dragon’s slave

It was by complete accident that you were kidnapped and subsequently sold

But in that time you’d come to learn more of the politics of the world

Specifically the inequality of rules for nobles from the world government

You don’t spend much time as a slave but it’s torturous

Permanently scaring your mind with the pain of being branded as property

Seen as an object that can be broken

In your time there though you remember 3 girls

That time is a blur in your mind but you remember giving your limited food to them

The group being taken aback by the kindness as you explained you’d be fine

It went on like that for awhile

You never got their names but you gave them yours

They were sisters, the one with black hair being the oldest of the trio

It was a friendship made out of desperation

Of knowing that none of you were alone

The eldest of the group is one day forced to kill you for the pleasure of the sick bastard who had branded you all

She’s sobbing

He’ll kill her sisters if she doesn’t

You tell her it’s ok, that she must do what she can to survive and keep them alive

That death didn’t scare you

Her devil fruit turns you to stone within an instant but not from romantic love

It’s from the love of a friend

Of someone who’d cared for her and her sisters enough to give up your own for them

For her to keep them safe

The statue crumbles and she’s left sobbing

Gold floats from the grey dust that scatters around her

She thinks back to some of your last words

She had to be strong for her sisters

Make sure they get out of here lest your sacrifice be in vain

She’d be strong so she can protect

Just as you protected her and them from a violent fate

Even through the scar isn’t there anymore you scratch at your back

Remembering the pain of that seal

You can’t remember who the symbol belongs to anymore

Other than then being some type of royal

The cycle begins again

Smoker

You met him during your brief time at marineford

One of the only Marines whom you found to actually be good

Not just seeing things as simply black and white good and bad

Sure, he had a job to do and accomplish but he at least had a sense of morally grey justice

A well weighted scale so one side is not preferred over the other

It’s because of him that the smell of lingering smoke now leaves a sense of comfort to you

Admitting this to him makes the rather gruff man go completely red

Much like the lot end of those cigars that he loves so much

Despite how own duties he’d help you deliver things at the base

Having his smoke help carry letters across the island within minutes as to give you a small break

Speaking of which, he basically forces you to have mandatory breaks from work

Oftentimes literally dragging you off to go get something to eat

You have the feeling he has a soft spot for kids but vehemently denies that fact

(The way he buys you ice cream and lets you sit on his shoulder says otherwise but ok)

Another thing supports this fact is that he grows quite concerned at your complete disregard for your safety

The man has a panic attack every time you make an odd comment about “do you think I’d die from this height or shatter my legs” and “could you theoretically give people cancer or kill them via smoke blockage in the lungs?”

You can’t convince him that you had a happy childhood before this

Sengoku not being able to find your parents makes this thought worse

You didn’t know him for very long but you hope to one day run into home again

Charlotte LinLin

Somehow you ended up at an orphanage after someone found you asleep and adrift at sea

It most cases this would’ve been a blessing

To you it was an annoyance as they left you at a place for the abandoned and mourning

A reminder of where you might have ended up if you haven’t ate your fruit

Hadn’t taken the reigns of fate in your hands and steered it towards the endless blue sea

Immediately you want to leave the moment you can, especially since you get off vibes from “mother caramel”

That woman is up to something real bad

You can feel it deep in your bones

But you end up staying when you meet a peculiar girl

She’s young but not little, she towers over you like a giant

Puffy pink hair kept in two buns and freckles cheeks paired with a large toothy smile

She’s an interesting character, so like always you end up staying

Her name is Linlin, someone with monstrous power yet is innocent to a frightening degree

She has a kind heart yet doesn’t realize her strength

Something you try to help her with

Linlin is ecstatic to have you as a friend especially since you don’t seem out off by her size

You stay by her side, more specifically on her shoulder and tell her stories that make her eyes widen in curiosity

Telling stories of other races, showing her that the other children who aren’t human aren’t needing to be fixed like she initially thought

Their all perfect

She’s still a little confused but she gets the gist of it

Another thing she doesn’t get is discrimination and thinks it’s stupid

She expresses a dream of a place where everyone can live in peace

It’s a beautiful dream but one that is far fetched, yet you can’t help but tell her to go for it

Because there’s no harm in trying

Mother Caramel seemingly assigns you as Linlin’s impulse control

Seemingly since your the only one who can actually make her listen when she’s blind from rage

As much as you don’t like the old woman, she’s got a point

Linlin is a hurricane if made angry and you’re the key into keeping it at peace

She seems to note that to herself for some greater reason

In the end you didn’t know Linlin for very long but she seemed to hold you in such a high regard she deemed you her “bestest friend!”

It’s nice

But like all things they come to and end

But surprisingly it’s by her own hand

At her 6th birthday everyone had come together to make her sweets knowing she loved anything sugary

She was in tears, grin so wide you thought it was big as the red line

She ate and ate

Until there was no cake left

But like in those blind rages she didn’t see

She didn’t see there was nothing left

Didn’t notice what she now began to eat was the rest of the children sitting nearby

Mother caramel

And finally you

Eventually she woke up, finding herself alone and confused

Glitter flowing up into the sky

Years later you hear about some island meant to be a utopia for all people

It reminds you of that little pink haired girl

But that can’t be, you heard the pirate behind it was a maniac

That couldn’t be the innocent girl you met and became friends with

…how did you die that time again?

All the deaths have merged together or you can’t remember which death went where

For all you know the one where you got eaten was that one

But that can’t be

From what you remember Linlin was kind if not naive

She couldn’t

Wouldn’t

The cycle begins again

Katakuri

For awhile you stayed at an island that specialized in baked goods

And that served as a calling for the famous pirate known as “big mom” and her children

The island was not yet under their…”protection” but was being negotiated with as of when you visited

And on that island you found yourself at a bakery buying sweets to your hearts content

Specifically donuts

The one where we’re apparently particularly good

And honestly it’s been awhile since you’d treated yourself to a good meal

Soooo you splurged a bit and bought them all

And that leads to an odd meeting when you run into the giant of a man with a pink tattoo and fur lined scarf covering the bottom half of his face

The chefs cower as they tell him that their all out of the sweet treat

Despite the evident frown he doesn’t look as if he’s about to trash the place like the chefs are making it seem

He simply seems disappointed and a bit sour

Despite how everyone is clearly afraid of him you poke his arm making him look at you

“We can share if you’d like. I don’t mind”

From the mortified looks of everyone in the room it’s evident everyone is half expecting him to flat out obliterate you on the spot

But much to their surprise he seem to think it over

“If you see me eating I’ll kill you”

“Aight, that’s fine with me. We can eat back to back, then I won’t see you”

The bakery is left silent as you leave with the pirate

They prey your alright

Just as your promised you eat back to back. He creates a small house of mochi as you put down the donut box and you both eat

It’s peaceful and nice

He half expects for you to turn around but you don’t

You don’t even seem to consider it as you happily eat and engage in small conversations

It’s odd being asked such mundane things like “how was your day?” And “what do you do for a living?”

Let alone by someone who isn’t currently shaking in fear

….it’s nice

You let him have the last donut much to his surprise

He enjoyed this much more than he thought he would

So he comes up with an ultimatum

“I’ll be too busy to buy them before they sell out…would you be willing to buy them and then we do what we did today?”

“Sounds fun to me.”

He leaves with a warm feeling in his chest

Not even his siblings treated him in such a relaxed manner…it was refreshing

The next day ticks by and he finds himself awaiting for the meeting to be over

He stops himself from tapping his foot but his irritation occasionally seeps out

It goes to help speed up conversation though and then he’s free

Like the day prior you both meet at the same place

He insists on paying you back but you refuse

It’s confusing but he doesn’t make a comment about it

In the grande scheme if things this is such a small thing but it begins to mean the world to him

He’s only intended to stay here for a week yet he dreads that final day

So much so that he finishes business early

When you go to the shop you find that their already sold out much to your displeasure

You go to tell the sweet toothed man you befriended and find him already with the confectionery

You eat back to back once more for the last time

Enjoying the donuts that bring him momentary relaxation and relief from the pressure to be the prefect son

The perfect big brother

It’s nice

And for once he feels as if he was his true self around someone

You hear him cry but don’t turn around out of respect for him

Instead you just offer him more food and gently pat his arm

A small “thank you” falls from his mouth and you smile

You thank him in return for the pleasant company

He wonders if this is what is mother experienced when having her “bestest friend” all those years ago

The one story that him and all his siblings had heard growing up

About someone much like yourself

He leaves the island with a smile beneath his scarf and a noticeable better mood

His siblings ponder about what happened but he doesn’t speak a work of it

This was a treasure he’d like to keep to himself

For some reason his mother has a knowing look

Btw wanted to thank you all for liking this so far. I was honestly kinda scared to actually post for one piece but I’m glad people are enjoying my content for it. I recently got into the show and wanted to write about it cause I love it so much.

#platonic #one piece x reader #crocodile x reader #eustass kid x reader #killer x reader #Sengoku x reader #katakuri x reader #boa Hancock x reader #smoker x reader

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