I will begin to post my Horizon-fandom based writing here, however, I feel it is worth me saying that when I write these things, I do not do it with the purpose of writing fanfic. I write them for my own therapy, and to get my dissociative, maladaptive daydreaming, almost reality shifting tendencies out of my head. Therefore, the writings are always based on myself, never Aloy nor a reader that I cannot personally identify with.
With that in mind: welcome to my blog, and my mind :)
By this point most of the "therapy" writing was done and so this is mostly just smut. I'm very shy when it comes to smut to be gentle <3 Part I here.
Kotallo x Old One f!reader
Once we reached Kotallo’s bunk and the door had whispered shut, I immediately tapped my focus for a flashlight - for as atmospheric as the candlelight was, it made it difficult to see what I was doing. It took a few moments to adjust to the fact that he was allowing me to touch him, and that I didn’t need to avoid skin to skin contact. My fingertips turned chalky white from where they had snagged his paint. First his wristguard, followed by his shoulder and chest plate, my fingers making quick work of the well-hidden fastenings as piece by piece fell discarded to the floor. And just like that Kotallo was naked from the waist up. And so beautiful. And close. His deep, dark eyes watching me intently, glittering in the darkness. I tapped my focus to dim the flashlight, not knowing what to do with my hands as we locked eyes, unable to look away. My body seemed to know what to do as I sank to my knees, gaze still locked, and began searching the waistband of his waist armor for a fastening, fingers gently grazing sensitive skin.
“I can… do the rest.” Too late. The armor was already falling away. His reaction to seeing me on my knees before him mirrored my reaction to gazing up at him in just his silk shorts and boots, my hands still gently gripping his thighs. It had been a very long time since I had been in such an intimate and vulnerable position, and that fire in my belly was beginning to catch. The effect it had on him became evident through his shorts. Blood roared in my veins. The fog of mild intoxication swiftly being replaced by a haze of lust. I bit my lip as my toes curled in my slippers. I needed this. I needed him. He gulped. The effort it took to restrain himself and stay statue-still was evident in the tension beneath my palms.
“You know… if we start… I will not be able to stop.” Concern. That’s what flickered across those beautiful eyes.
“I know.” I choked out a whisper, gently running my nails down the backs of his thighs. The muscles in his neck and temple tensed harder still, his shorts twitched.
“Beautiful, cruel woman,” he growled, lowering himself down to my level, his dark eyes completely black now. He sighed, lowering his gaze the the floor beside me. “You are not Tenakth.” An excuse. A weak one.
“That’s really the excuse you’re giving yourself to try and talk yourself out of this?” I shook my head at him. “I am an Old One. The ONLY Old One. I am of this Earth. I am of no tribe, and I am of all tribes. I am Carja. I am Nora. I am Oseram. I am Banuk. I am Utaru. And I - am Tenakth. So, look me in the eye and try again, Marshal.” To his credit his eyes found mine again, though a little sheepishly. I tried to read his face again. Doubt?
“I won’t be able to… I haven’t since I…” he looked to his missing limb with such sorrow. I knew in that moment that it was not just me that needed this. He did too. He needed to know love. Love for the man he was in that moment, not the man with two arms.
“You will be able to hold me just fine; if there’s something you want to do but can’t, compromise. Get creative. But please - Kotallo - please,” my hand reached to cup his cheek as I begged, “please just let me love you.”
I leant in, our breath mixing in the inch between us, my eyelashes tickled my cheeks as my eyes fluttered shut, my lips hovering above his. I waited. Waited for him to pull away. Waited for him to shoot me down, despite his arousal. Heartbeat after heartbeat passed, before a slight huff as his lips brushed mine. I could feel his smile against my mouth. One kiss. Two. Three. Soft. Tentative. Testing.
He pulled away a fraction of an inch. One heartbeat. Two. Three. The sound that emitted from him was low, guttural and raw animalistic drive. It was an unleashing, and whatever tether he had secured disintegrated in an instant. This time his lips collided with mine, searing, consuming, claiming me entirely as his fingers fisted in my hair. We were a flurry of tongues and teeth, my arms snaked around him pulling him against me. He worked his way along my jaw, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, beneath my ear, eliciting an uncontrollable moan from my throat, and a rumble of satisfaction from his. Down the column of my neck, little nips, to just above my collarbone. I arched into him, now aware of how stifling my baggy Carja silks felt against my skin. He bit down on that sensitive skin sucking hard enough to bruise, then licked the hurt and pulled away to assess his work. His smouldering gaze caught my eyes, but I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at the smudged paint all around his mouth. Kotallo chuckled.
“Wait right here.” He rose, and after a minute, he had gathered a variety of mats and bedding and created something of a nest in the middle of the room. Yes. The bunk was far too small for us to bed properly. While he removed his boots, I made a point of arching my back as I crawled in what I imagined to be a cat-like manner towards centre of the blankets, making my ass more prominent. I hoped. I knelt and faced him as he stood before me, my legs at a wide angle, and began to ever so slowly undo the laces of my blouse. A snarl ripped from his throat as he all but flung himself down and when properly balanced, ripped the fabric off over my head along with the strips I had taken to fashioning into a bra-like garment.
“See? Who needs two arms anyways.” I murmured, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck and lowered our bodies down to the bed.
The sight of him towering over me was alone almost enough for me to find release. I hummed as our lips reconnected, at the flick of his tongue inside my mouth, and lost complete control of the whimpers that escaped as he kissed his way down my neck, past my collar bone to one of my nipples, peaked against the cool air. Watching Kotallo drenched in candlelight running his tongue over my nipple turned my core completely molten, my back bowing, fingers grasping at the blankets. He pulled it between his teeth, nipping, sending a jolt of pain through my chest. My body writhed in response, sucking in a gasp, my moan one of pure pleasure. I could already feel the wetness building between my legs. That was where I needed that goddamn tongue! His trail of kisses continued its journey down the slope of my breast, down my ribs, past my navel to my hips. He snarled again, most displeased at there being more fabric obstructing him.
Sitting back on his heels, he began to shimmy my trousers down my legs. I considered helping him, but I knew he would want to prove he could do it himself, so all I did was raise my butt to make his job easier. Now we were even. Just a pair of undergarments remained on each of us. I tried to read his eyes as he spotted my wetness seeping through my underwear. Something more than just feral lust lingered there. Pride. I propped myself up on my elbows as he blinked at me with such love and emotion. I gave him a sultry smile.
“I’m all yours Marshal. Kotallo.” Apparently, the way I said his name was the right way because before I could blink my shorts were gone and my knees were hooked over his shoulders. My elbows gave way and my head was thrown back as he began to feast on me. The first, broad stroke up my folds was simply everything. My hands fisted in the sheets felt like there weren’t enough sheets in the world to keep me from eventually going over that edge, the edge that came closer with every lick and swirl. I grappled for him; something solid to cling on to as the pleasure coil inside me tightened. His hand spread across my midriff holding me down as I bucked and thrashed. Gently, oh so gently, he sucked on the sensitive spot at the apex of my thighs and sent lightning lashing through my veins. White light burst behind my closed lids and stars reeled as over that edge I went, my legs quivering. Incoherent nonsense dribbled from my lips and my fingers found purchase in his tied hair while I rode his face through my high.
The only chance I got to breathe was while he unbound his hair, removing the small headpiece held in place there, before his ravenous lips were consuming mine once more. Warm, wet and tasting deliciously of me. I required no further prompting as I felt his hardness against me. I slid my hands between us, sliding his shorts down and freeing him. Taking him in my hand, I relished the feel of his silky skin, pumping once, twice, tenderly. My prize was a well-earned groan into my mouth, his breaths heavy and uneven; a little shaky too. Now it was my turn.
“On your back, Marshal. That’s an order.” He smirked, probably at my audacity to give him orders. He opened his mouth, likely to counter my instruction so I cut him off before he could utter a single syllable.
“Please, Kotallo.” My words from earlier hung between us. I could tell he heard them, despite me not repeating them. “Just let me love you.” Almost imperceptibly he nodded, backing down from his objection, and rolling over onto his back, never dropping his gaze from my face. Bowing before him like he was my king, I took up his proud length in my hands once again, softly, up and down, occasionally running my thumb across the sensitive tip to make him squirm and hiss.
“By the Ten…” sounded so beautiful tumbling from his throat as he watched me take him in my mouth. His grip found purchase in my tangled hair as I hollowed my cheeks and bobbed my head until he hit the back of my throat. I continued to worship him, working my hands and mouth in tandem and had him praying to The Ten, until he couldn’t take it any longer and I was flipped effortlessly on to my back and was staring back up into those wide, lust-filled eyes. Sweat was beginning to bead on his brown, his paint smudged all over in a beautiful mess.
He lined himself up to my entrance, poised ready to slide in. He waited. His eyes asking silently for permission. I nodded, cupping his cheeks and bringing him in to capture those sweet lips once again. Inch by inch, he nudged his way in, savouring my warmth around him, sighing into each kiss until he was fully sheathed inside me. For a heartbeat I adjusted to the feeling of being completely filled by him before he pulled out again, so painfully slowly. Slam. The force of his thrust knocked the air right out of my lungs in a gasp. Slam. No chance to recover myself. Slam. Like a beating war drum, he set his pace, his breathy moans fanning over my face. Over and over he hit that spot so deep inside my very core, I hooked my legs around his thighs, my nails digging in to his back as I clung to him to keep from shattering. He grimaced through the pain and picked up the speed, continuing his almost brutal assault.
There was no way the others hadn’t heard my cries by now, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was Kotallo. Me. And our joining. Nothing else existed while our paint-smeared skin fused, sealed together with our sweat. Soon enough his moans became strained, his rhythm beginning to falter. He moved to try to flip me over to finish off, but I held firm.
“I want to see your face when you finish. Just this time. Please, Kotallo.” A flicker of acceptance. He dug his fingers in hard as he gripped my hip for purchase. That was going to bruise. I tried to sneak my hand down to help finish me off at the same time, but…
“Hands above your head,” he barked before chasing his release at incredible speed. The image of his face contorted in ecstasy, paint reduced to a mere sheen, would be the new memory I would recall in the quiet moments. The sound of his roar vibrated through my bones. He rested his forehead against mine, eyes still shut, and, still sheathed in my heat, using his core strength for balance, snaked his hand between us and teased those nerves to bring me crashing down around him, his name the only word I could remember.
Pale yellow light danced over his glistening skin and we remained frozen in the moment, breathing each other’s air, sharing each other’s heartbeats. Feeling the buzz of the post-intercourse high. I caressed his cheek as he gently lowered himself onto the bedding beside me, looping his arm under my body and holding me close.
“Are you alright, Marshal?” Schooling my face into one of concern. I couldn’t help the small feeling gnawing at me that whatever doubts he had had had become reality somehow. His stump moved as if trying to stroke my face with his missing arm, before he instead pulled me closer, twining our legs together.
“I am more than alright, Old One,” he replied with a heavy-eyed smile. A relieved breath whooshed from my lungs.
“I’m glad.”
“Thank you for proving that I can still do these things, even when crippled.”
“Thank you, Kotallo, for letting me love you.” I pulled a cover over us and curled up to his chest, palms flattened against him the feel the thrum of his warrior heart. Letting it’s rhythm lull me to sleep.
“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING!”
“Good morning Erend,” came Kotallo’s gruff reply from next to me. I realised we had both fallen asleep in the makeshift bed and were still cuddled up and obviously naked, clothes and armour abandoned around us. Though I don’t know why I was surprised. The room stank of sweat and sex.
“You’re more than welcome to join us,” I pointed out, eyes still smushed shut against the sudden harsh light. Erend just mumbled under his breath, dumped his hammer and unnecessary armour, and headed back to the common room. Honestly, I didn’t ever want to move. I didn’t want to move out of Kotallo’s embrace, nor face the world outside of it.
“What now?” I asked, forcing myself to return to reality.
“What now, what?”
“Do we just go on like this never happened? Do we want to do this again? Are we still just friends or are we lovers?… What now?”
Kotallo hummed and took a few moments to think it over.
“We can be whatever we feel. Up here away from the tribes, from rules of society we don’t have to justify ourselves to anyone. I say we just let things be what they are. I would do this again if the situation presented itself, but I won’t label you as my lover unless you desire it. I care for you, and always will. I think that is what is truly important.” I mulled his words over. Yes. We could simply be Kotallo and I. We were free to make advances, accept them or reject them at our own pace, but either way we could just enjoy unconditional love and care.
“I think I can live with that.” And with that I curled up close to him again and closed my eyes. Just five more minutes.
Please make sure you read my pinned PSA :) It's not perfect, but it's not meant to be <3 Part II and maybe III to follow - it's already written, just needs formatting and posting. Edit: part II is here.
Kotallo x Old One f!reader
A veil of gold enveloped the landscape before me. The cool mountain air so sweet in my throat as a gentle breeze teased my hair. I sighed. The new world felt so big, so fresh. Even after so many months, no matter how much I tried to move on, the hulking weight of the loss of the entire world kept hounding me; usually in the calm, quiet moments. Aloy had been gone for almost a week now, hunting for the two remaining subordinate functions for GAIA. Erend was on a supply run and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Beta still kept to herself in the basement. Zo and Varl spent most of their time together in their private quarters and had retreated as soon as we had finished eating. Kotallo had his own battles to plan with his hologram strategy table. So quiet. Just me and the Earth and my thoughts. I shivered as another breeze caressed my shoulders. My clothes were a mishmash of fashions from various tribes while I tried to figure out my place in the world, but I found the loose Carja silks to be the most comfortable. They didn’t do much about cold mountain wind at sunset though.
The door behind me hissed. I didn’t care who it was. I really wasn’t in the mood for conversation right now. I hugged my knees closer to my chest and waited as footsteps crunched closer. Gentle steps. I was vaguely aware of something being placed on the ground behind me, before a blanket was carefully draped around me. It was Kotallo. He took his time to make sure that he had managed to cover me sufficiently using his remaining hand, then picked up the cup of hot tea and handed it to me before settling down beside me. He must have asked Zo how to brew it.
“I didn’t want you to get cold.” He stated simply. His gaze turned to survey the West that lay before us. That was how we stayed until in sun had fully dipped below the horizon and the sky had gone from forget-me-not, to periwinkle, rose, crimson, to the indigo that was finally beginning to bloom.
The door behind me hissed. I didn’t care who it was. I really wasn’t in the mood for conversation right now. I hugged my knees closer to my chest and waited as footsteps crunched closer. Gentle steps. I was vaguely aware of something being placed on the ground behind me, before a blanket was carefully draped around me. It was Kotallo. He took his time to make sure that he had managed to cover me sufficiently using his remaining hand, then picked up the cup of hot tea and handed it to me before settling down beside me. He must have asked Zo how to brew it.
“I didn’t want you to get cold.” He stated simply. His gaze turned to survey the West that lay before us. That was how we stayed until in sun had fully dipped below the horizon and the sky had gone from forget-me-not, to periwinkle, rose, crimson, to the indigo that was finally beginning to bloom.
“We should head back inside.” He stood, holding his hand out for me to take. Grasping his hand I heaved myself to my feet, thankful for his counterweight, and all too quickly found myself nose to nose with the warrior. I couldn’t help the heat that rose to my cheeks at the sudden intimate proximity to the wall of painted muscles. We lingered for a heartbeat, sharing air, before he lead the way inside. I loosed a breath I was unaware I was holding.
In the common room, the candles had been lit in favour of the harsh electrical overhead lights of the facility. Mindlessly, I shuffled towards the bench where the Strike board was set up and plopped myself down, staring at nothing. I picked up a machine piece and turned it absentmindedly in my hand.
I didn’t need my focus to show me the faces of my family for me to see them. To hear their voices and laughter ring between my ears. Gone. I knew they were gone - that I would never experience them again. They no longer existed. They were now a mere whisper of memory. A tear slipped silently down my cheek. I don’t know how many minutes passed before Kotallo set a mug of ale down before me. I turned my nose up a little.
“You know I can’t stand this stuff” I muttered.
“I do. But I thought we could share a couple of drinks to distract each other from the ghosts that are bothering us. Besides, after a mug or two the taste is no longer relevant.” The corner of his lip twitched skyward as he turned to fill his own mug. I picked up my cup and sniffed the contents. Closing my eyes I took a swig, trying not to screw up my face as the warrior slid onto the opposite bench. At last I looked into his eyes, and with a small but genuine smile on my face said “Thank you. Really. It means a lot that you’d do this for me.”
“Since I was assigned to assist Aloy, I have been on my own journey with grief. Not just for my arm-“ he glanced down at his stump as if he would see his left arm still attached “but for the soldiers lost in the battle at the Embassy.” A shadow flickered across his eyes. “To begin with, the sorrow threatened to consume me; to force me to be someone less. Since then I have faced my grief, slowly made peace with my loss, and decided who I am now. I see now that the only thing that was stopping me was myself. Looking back, I’m glad I allowed myself to experience that pain, and in a way, it made me feel alive; remember I survived. But I had the choice to either set aside the warrior Marshal - give up myself - or redefine myself and become even better than I was with two arms. I would not have had the strength to do that had I not gone on that mission with Aloy.” He took a swig from his own mug, took a moment to focus himself. I waited patiently to hear what he had to say. “I see the ghosts that haunt you, follow your every step. I lost my arm and half a dozen soldiers. You. You lost your entire world. Not just your people, not just your civilisation, but the places, cultures, even the creatures that inhabited the planet. I cannot even begin to imagine that level of loss. How you must feel. I see you try so hard to ignore that weight, even though it threatens to crush you. I didn’t want you to think you have to bear that weight alone.” The candlelight made the twinkle in his eyes sparkle, the soft light playing across his painted white face; the contrast stark against the deep shadows of the common room. My insides felt warm and fuzzy. Here was a warrior hewn from stone, yet showing his soft side. A side I never expected him to have. I suppose to have defied orders to be at Barren Light that day with even a handful of soldiers he must have the capability to care deeply. I took a moment to look at him - really look at him. The mask of stoicism was down. Right now I was not a threat, a soldier, an ally or some strange alien from the past. I was a friend. A companion. And so, as I exhaled, I let my own guard down too, and smiled a bright and genuine smile before taking another deep swig of the vile liquid in my mug. Kotallo mirrored me, his smile wide but grounded.
“You’re right.” I picked up the carved wooden lancehorn figure from next to the Strike board, studying it as I continued. “I have spent the last few months mourning the loss of my world; so much so that it has greatly hindered my ability to adjust to this new one. I allow myself to get swept up in helping Aloy because it keeps my focus away from that grief for a moment, just like I did when I built the technology to freeze myself. I haven’t yet let myself dream about who I would like to be now - as an individual with a whole new world to explore, new tribes and cultures. New friends.” I gestured to him with my cup, still beaming at the thought that these people I that had come into my life were just that. Friends. Friends that cared about me enough that they would bring me tea and blankets and watch the sunset with me. As I stood to get a refill, I set down the lancehorn, slotting it in to a divot on the highest terrain on the board, and the images of my family’s faces that were so vivid in my mind’s eye finally faded away, like a fog lifting to reveal a beautiful sunny day. A hum of satisfaction rumbled from Kotallo and he sank the remainder of his ale, setting his mug down in an unspoken request to fill it also. Perhaps he too could sense the shift in me.
“To new friends.”
I raised my mug as he spoke, adding: “And to letting go of things that no longer serve us.” And as I tipped my head back to drink, I could have sworn he winked at me, the corner of his mouth turned skyward.
For a while, we continued to chat and drink; me telling stories of skipping school as a teenager, himself telling tales of being out on training missions and drawing unfortunate markings on his comrades with body paint when they passed out asleep. I even got to see him laugh! Eventually Kotallo got fed up of watching me examine every Strike figurine and decided to teach me how to play, setting up simple opponent boards and helping me to figure out how to use my pieces to win.
“Figured it out yet?” He returned to the table with mug number 4, and I was a little surprised at his motion for me to scootch along the bench a little for him to sit beside me. By now the ale had started a buzz going in my head, and even the gentle brush of his knee against my own had me blushing a little. My body, seemingly of it’s own volition, curled into his closeness like a purring cat as I assessed the board. I picked up a piece and moved it, pausing and holding my hand in place while I decided whether I was sure of the move. A slight huff floated over my shoulder. The gentle weight of his large, warm hand covered my own, moving the piece one place to the left. Lingering. Then vanishing. I looked up to find our noses mere inches away, the ghost of a smirk on his face. Was the man… flirting? My traitorous eyes flicked down to notice the small, vertical scar through his upper lip before I shook myself internally. Kotallo and flirting are two words that would never be uttered in the same breath. Yet still, the idea had a flicker of embers stirring in my core. Must be the ale.
We soon finished strategising with the Strike board and fell into an unusually tense silence. I pretended to observe the dregs in the bottom of my empty mug.
“A thought for a thought, Old One.” I rolled my eyes at the name.
The only words that came to my mind to describe my thoughts were from some of my favourite fictional literature from my old life. “I think, Kotallo, that it would be very easy for me to love you.” I paused for effect and to see if he would react. He didn’t. He merely waited for the end of my sentence. “Yet, I think it would be easier still to call you my friend.” I couldn’t help but admit that I was enjoying this new dynamic between us, whatever that was, and I was fully prepared to go with the flow of it. Ale induced or not. Though now the feeling was out in the open, I was afraid of what he might say in response. I realised my heart was pounding in my ears and my breaths shallow. I watched him as he seemed to contemplate his response; the thought he was to share in return for mine.
“I think,” he began, “that this is a good thing.” I tried to keep the surprise off my face, despite the fact I knew he could read my face look an open book. “Since Erend is away tonight, I will need a friend to help me remove some of my armour. And I am most definitely NOT going in there to ask Varl or Zo.” He gestured toward one of the closed doors on the opposite side of the room where the pair had made their bedroom. I huffed a laugh. Fair enough. I wouldn’t entertain the thought of going in there either. He nodded towards the room that we shared with the Oseram and stood to let me get up from the bench. My body suddenly felt light as air as I strode towards our quarters with a spring in my step.
By this point most of the "therapy" writing was done and so this is mostly just smut. I'm very shy when it comes to smut to be gentle <3 Part I here.
Kotallo x Old One f!reader
Once we reached Kotallo’s bunk and the door had whispered shut, I immediately tapped my focus for a flashlight - for as atmospheric as the candlelight was, it made it difficult to see what I was doing. It took a few moments to adjust to the fact that he was allowing me to touch him, and that I didn’t need to avoid skin to skin contact. My fingertips turned chalky white from where they had snagged his paint. First his wristguard, followed by his shoulder and chest plate, my fingers making quick work of the well-hidden fastenings as piece by piece fell discarded to the floor. And just like that Kotallo was naked from the waist up. And so beautiful. And close. His deep, dark eyes watching me intently, glittering in the darkness. I tapped my focus to dim the flashlight, not knowing what to do with my hands as we locked eyes, unable to look away. My body seemed to know what to do as I sank to my knees, gaze still locked, and began searching the waistband of his waist armor for a fastening, fingers gently grazing sensitive skin.
“I can… do the rest.” Too late. The armor was already falling away. His reaction to seeing me on my knees before him mirrored my reaction to gazing up at him in just his silk shorts and boots, my hands still gently gripping his thighs. It had been a very long time since I had been in such an intimate and vulnerable position, and that fire in my belly was beginning to catch. The effect it had on him became evident through his shorts. Blood roared in my veins. The fog of mild intoxication swiftly being replaced by a haze of lust. I bit my lip as my toes curled in my slippers. I needed this. I needed him. He gulped. The effort it took to restrain himself and stay statue-still was evident in the tension beneath my palms.
“You know… if we start… I will not be able to stop.” Concern. That’s what flickered across those beautiful eyes.
“I know.” I choked out a whisper, gently running my nails down the backs of his thighs. The muscles in his neck and temple tensed harder still, his shorts twitched.
“Beautiful, cruel woman,” he growled, lowering himself down to my level, his dark eyes completely black now. He sighed, lowering his gaze the the floor beside me. “You are not Tenakth.” An excuse. A weak one.
“That’s really the excuse you’re giving yourself to try and talk yourself out of this?” I shook my head at him. “I am an Old One. The ONLY Old One. I am of this Earth. I am of no tribe, and I am of all tribes. I am Carja. I am Nora. I am Oseram. I am Banuk. I am Utaru. And I - am Tenakth. So, look me in the eye and try again, Marshal.” To his credit his eyes found mine again, though a little sheepishly. I tried to read his face again. Doubt?
“I won’t be able to… I haven’t since I…” he looked to his missing limb with such sorrow. I knew in that moment that it was not just me that needed this. He did too. He needed to know love. Love for the man he was in that moment, not the man with two arms.
“You will be able to hold me just fine; if there’s something you want to do but can’t, compromise. Get creative. But please - Kotallo - please,” my hand reached to cup his cheek as I begged, “please just let me love you.”
I leant in, our breath mixing in the inch between us, my eyelashes tickled my cheeks as my eyes fluttered shut, my lips hovering above his. I waited. Waited for him to pull away. Waited for him to shoot me down, despite his arousal. Heartbeat after heartbeat passed, before a slight huff as his lips brushed mine. I could feel his smile against my mouth. One kiss. Two. Three. Soft. Tentative. Testing.
He pulled away a fraction of an inch. One heartbeat. Two. Three. The sound that emitted from him was low, guttural and raw animalistic drive. It was an unleashing, and whatever tether he had secured disintegrated in an instant. This time his lips collided with mine, searing, consuming, claiming me entirely as his fingers fisted in my hair. We were a flurry of tongues and teeth, my arms snaked around him pulling him against me. He worked his way along my jaw, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, beneath my ear, eliciting an uncontrollable moan from my throat, and a rumble of satisfaction from his. Down the column of my neck, little nips, to just above my collarbone. I arched into him, now aware of how stifling my baggy Carja silks felt against my skin. He bit down on that sensitive skin sucking hard enough to bruise, then licked the hurt and pulled away to assess his work. His smouldering gaze caught my eyes, but I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at the smudged paint all around his mouth. Kotallo chuckled.
“Wait right here.” He rose, and after a minute, he had gathered a variety of mats and bedding and created something of a nest in the middle of the room. Yes. The bunk was far too small for us to bed properly. While he removed his boots, I made a point of arching my back as I crawled in what I imagined to be a cat-like manner towards centre of the blankets, making my ass more prominent. I hoped. I knelt and faced him as he stood before me, my legs at a wide angle, and began to ever so slowly undo the laces of my blouse. A snarl ripped from his throat as he all but flung himself down and when properly balanced, ripped the fabric off over my head along with the strips I had taken to fashioning into a bra-like garment.
“See? Who needs two arms anyways.” I murmured, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck and lowered our bodies down to the bed.
The sight of him towering over me was alone almost enough for me to find release. I hummed as our lips reconnected, at the flick of his tongue inside my mouth, and lost complete control of the whimpers that escaped as he kissed his way down my neck, past my collar bone to one of my nipples, peaked against the cool air. Watching Kotallo drenched in candlelight running his tongue over my nipple turned my core completely molten, my back bowing, fingers grasping at the blankets. He pulled it between his teeth, nipping, sending a jolt of pain through my chest. My body writhed in response, sucking in a gasp, my moan one of pure pleasure. I could already feel the wetness building between my legs. That was where I needed that goddamn tongue! His trail of kisses continued its journey down the slope of my breast, down my ribs, past my navel to my hips. He snarled again, most displeased at there being more fabric obstructing him.
Sitting back on his heels, he began to shimmy my trousers down my legs. I considered helping him, but I knew he would want to prove he could do it himself, so all I did was raise my butt to make his job easier. Now we were even. Just a pair of undergarments remained on each of us. I tried to read his eyes as he spotted my wetness seeping through my underwear. Something more than just feral lust lingered there. Pride. I propped myself up on my elbows as he blinked at me with such love and emotion. I gave him a sultry smile.
“I’m all yours Marshal. Kotallo.” Apparently, the way I said his name was the right way because before I could blink my shorts were gone and my knees were hooked over his shoulders. My elbows gave way and my head was thrown back as he began to feast on me. The first, broad stroke up my folds was simply everything. My hands fisted in the sheets felt like there weren’t enough sheets in the world to keep me from eventually going over that edge, the edge that came closer with every lick and swirl. I grappled for him; something solid to cling on to as the pleasure coil inside me tightened. His hand spread across my midriff holding me down as I bucked and thrashed. Gently, oh so gently, he sucked on the sensitive spot at the apex of my thighs and sent lightning lashing through my veins. White light burst behind my closed lids and stars reeled as over that edge I went, my legs quivering. Incoherent nonsense dribbled from my lips and my fingers found purchase in his tied hair while I rode his face through my high.
The only chance I got to breathe was while he unbound his hair, removing the small headpiece held in place there, before his ravenous lips were consuming mine once more. Warm, wet and tasting deliciously of me. I required no further prompting as I felt his hardness against me. I slid my hands between us, sliding his shorts down and freeing him. Taking him in my hand, I relished the feel of his silky skin, pumping once, twice, tenderly. My prize was a well-earned groan into my mouth, his breaths heavy and uneven; a little shaky too. Now it was my turn.
“On your back, Marshal. That’s an order.” He smirked, probably at my audacity to give him orders. He opened his mouth, likely to counter my instruction so I cut him off before he could utter a single syllable.
“Please, Kotallo.” My words from earlier hung between us. I could tell he heard them, despite me not repeating them. “Just let me love you.” Almost imperceptibly he nodded, backing down from his objection, and rolling over onto his back, never dropping his gaze from my face. Bowing before him like he was my king, I took up his proud length in my hands once again, softly, up and down, occasionally running my thumb across the sensitive tip to make him squirm and hiss.
“By the Ten…” sounded so beautiful tumbling from his throat as he watched me take him in my mouth. His grip found purchase in my tangled hair as I hollowed my cheeks and bobbed my head until he hit the back of my throat. I continued to worship him, working my hands and mouth in tandem and had him praying to The Ten, until he couldn’t take it any longer and I was flipped effortlessly on to my back and was staring back up into those wide, lust-filled eyes. Sweat was beginning to bead on his brown, his paint smudged all over in a beautiful mess.
He lined himself up to my entrance, poised ready to slide in. He waited. His eyes asking silently for permission. I nodded, cupping his cheeks and bringing him in to capture those sweet lips once again. Inch by inch, he nudged his way in, savouring my warmth around him, sighing into each kiss until he was fully sheathed inside me. For a heartbeat I adjusted to the feeling of being completely filled by him before he pulled out again, so painfully slowly. Slam. The force of his thrust knocked the air right out of my lungs in a gasp. Slam. No chance to recover myself. Slam. Like a beating war drum, he set his pace, his breathy moans fanning over my face. Over and over he hit that spot so deep inside my very core, I hooked my legs around his thighs, my nails digging in to his back as I clung to him to keep from shattering. He grimaced through the pain and picked up the speed, continuing his almost brutal assault.
There was no way the others hadn’t heard my cries by now, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was Kotallo. Me. And our joining. Nothing else existed while our paint-smeared skin fused, sealed together with our sweat. Soon enough his moans became strained, his rhythm beginning to falter. He moved to try to flip me over to finish off, but I held firm.
“I want to see your face when you finish. Just this time. Please, Kotallo.” A flicker of acceptance. He dug his fingers in hard as he gripped my hip for purchase. That was going to bruise. I tried to sneak my hand down to help finish me off at the same time, but…
“Hands above your head,” he barked before chasing his release at incredible speed. The image of his face contorted in ecstasy, paint reduced to a mere sheen, would be the new memory I would recall in the quiet moments. The sound of his roar vibrated through my bones. He rested his forehead against mine, eyes still shut, and, still sheathed in my heat, using his core strength for balance, snaked his hand between us and teased those nerves to bring me crashing down around him, his name the only word I could remember.
Pale yellow light danced over his glistening skin and we remained frozen in the moment, breathing each other’s air, sharing each other’s heartbeats. Feeling the buzz of the post-intercourse high. I caressed his cheek as he gently lowered himself onto the bedding beside me, looping his arm under my body and holding me close.
“Are you alright, Marshal?” Schooling my face into one of concern. I couldn’t help the small feeling gnawing at me that whatever doubts he had had had become reality somehow. His stump moved as if trying to stroke my face with his missing arm, before he instead pulled me closer, twining our legs together.
“I am more than alright, Old One,” he replied with a heavy-eyed smile. A relieved breath whooshed from my lungs.
“I’m glad.”
“Thank you for proving that I can still do these things, even when crippled.”
“Thank you, Kotallo, for letting me love you.” I pulled a cover over us and curled up to his chest, palms flattened against him the feel the thrum of his warrior heart. Letting it’s rhythm lull me to sleep.
“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING!”
“Good morning Erend,” came Kotallo’s gruff reply from next to me. I realised we had both fallen asleep in the makeshift bed and were still cuddled up and obviously naked, clothes and armour abandoned around us. Though I don’t know why I was surprised. The room stank of sweat and sex.
“You’re more than welcome to join us,” I pointed out, eyes still smushed shut against the sudden harsh light. Erend just mumbled under his breath, dumped his hammer and unnecessary armour, and headed back to the common room. Honestly, I didn’t ever want to move. I didn’t want to move out of Kotallo’s embrace, nor face the world outside of it.
“What now?” I asked, forcing myself to return to reality.
“What now, what?”
“Do we just go on like this never happened? Do we want to do this again? Are we still just friends or are we lovers?… What now?”
Kotallo hummed and took a few moments to think it over.
“We can be whatever we feel. Up here away from the tribes, from rules of society we don’t have to justify ourselves to anyone. I say we just let things be what they are. I would do this again if the situation presented itself, but I won’t label you as my lover unless you desire it. I care for you, and always will. I think that is what is truly important.” I mulled his words over. Yes. We could simply be Kotallo and I. We were free to make advances, accept them or reject them at our own pace, but either way we could just enjoy unconditional love and care.
“I think I can live with that.” And with that I curled up close to him again and closed my eyes. Just five more minutes.
Please make sure you read my pinned PSA :) It's not perfect, but it's not meant to be <3 Part II and maybe III to follow - it's already written, just needs formatting and posting. Edit: part II is here.
Kotallo x Old One f!reader
A veil of gold enveloped the landscape before me. The cool mountain air so sweet in my throat as a gentle breeze teased my hair. I sighed. The new world felt so big, so fresh. Even after so many months, no matter how much I tried to move on, the hulking weight of the loss of the entire world kept hounding me; usually in the calm, quiet moments. Aloy had been gone for almost a week now, hunting for the two remaining subordinate functions for GAIA. Erend was on a supply run and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Beta still kept to herself in the basement. Zo and Varl spent most of their time together in their private quarters and had retreated as soon as we had finished eating. Kotallo had his own battles to plan with his hologram strategy table. So quiet. Just me and the Earth and my thoughts. I shivered as another breeze caressed my shoulders. My clothes were a mishmash of fashions from various tribes while I tried to figure out my place in the world, but I found the loose Carja silks to be the most comfortable. They didn’t do much about cold mountain wind at sunset though.
The door behind me hissed. I didn’t care who it was. I really wasn’t in the mood for conversation right now. I hugged my knees closer to my chest and waited as footsteps crunched closer. Gentle steps. I was vaguely aware of something being placed on the ground behind me, before a blanket was carefully draped around me. It was Kotallo. He took his time to make sure that he had managed to cover me sufficiently using his remaining hand, then picked up the cup of hot tea and handed it to me before settling down beside me. He must have asked Zo how to brew it.
“I didn’t want you to get cold.” He stated simply. His gaze turned to survey the West that lay before us. That was how we stayed until in sun had fully dipped below the horizon and the sky had gone from forget-me-not, to periwinkle, rose, crimson, to the indigo that was finally beginning to bloom.
The door behind me hissed. I didn’t care who it was. I really wasn’t in the mood for conversation right now. I hugged my knees closer to my chest and waited as footsteps crunched closer. Gentle steps. I was vaguely aware of something being placed on the ground behind me, before a blanket was carefully draped around me. It was Kotallo. He took his time to make sure that he had managed to cover me sufficiently using his remaining hand, then picked up the cup of hot tea and handed it to me before settling down beside me. He must have asked Zo how to brew it.
“I didn’t want you to get cold.” He stated simply. His gaze turned to survey the West that lay before us. That was how we stayed until in sun had fully dipped below the horizon and the sky had gone from forget-me-not, to periwinkle, rose, crimson, to the indigo that was finally beginning to bloom.
“We should head back inside.” He stood, holding his hand out for me to take. Grasping his hand I heaved myself to my feet, thankful for his counterweight, and all too quickly found myself nose to nose with the warrior. I couldn’t help the heat that rose to my cheeks at the sudden intimate proximity to the wall of painted muscles. We lingered for a heartbeat, sharing air, before he lead the way inside. I loosed a breath I was unaware I was holding.
In the common room, the candles had been lit in favour of the harsh electrical overhead lights of the facility. Mindlessly, I shuffled towards the bench where the Strike board was set up and plopped myself down, staring at nothing. I picked up a machine piece and turned it absentmindedly in my hand.
I didn’t need my focus to show me the faces of my family for me to see them. To hear their voices and laughter ring between my ears. Gone. I knew they were gone - that I would never experience them again. They no longer existed. They were now a mere whisper of memory. A tear slipped silently down my cheek. I don’t know how many minutes passed before Kotallo set a mug of ale down before me. I turned my nose up a little.
“You know I can’t stand this stuff” I muttered.
“I do. But I thought we could share a couple of drinks to distract each other from the ghosts that are bothering us. Besides, after a mug or two the taste is no longer relevant.” The corner of his lip twitched skyward as he turned to fill his own mug. I picked up my cup and sniffed the contents. Closing my eyes I took a swig, trying not to screw up my face as the warrior slid onto the opposite bench. At last I looked into his eyes, and with a small but genuine smile on my face said “Thank you. Really. It means a lot that you’d do this for me.”
“Since I was assigned to assist Aloy, I have been on my own journey with grief. Not just for my arm-“ he glanced down at his stump as if he would see his left arm still attached “but for the soldiers lost in the battle at the Embassy.” A shadow flickered across his eyes. “To begin with, the sorrow threatened to consume me; to force me to be someone less. Since then I have faced my grief, slowly made peace with my loss, and decided who I am now. I see now that the only thing that was stopping me was myself. Looking back, I’m glad I allowed myself to experience that pain, and in a way, it made me feel alive; remember I survived. But I had the choice to either set aside the warrior Marshal - give up myself - or redefine myself and become even better than I was with two arms. I would not have had the strength to do that had I not gone on that mission with Aloy.” He took a swig from his own mug, took a moment to focus himself. I waited patiently to hear what he had to say. “I see the ghosts that haunt you, follow your every step. I lost my arm and half a dozen soldiers. You. You lost your entire world. Not just your people, not just your civilisation, but the places, cultures, even the creatures that inhabited the planet. I cannot even begin to imagine that level of loss. How you must feel. I see you try so hard to ignore that weight, even though it threatens to crush you. I didn’t want you to think you have to bear that weight alone.” The candlelight made the twinkle in his eyes sparkle, the soft light playing across his painted white face; the contrast stark against the deep shadows of the common room. My insides felt warm and fuzzy. Here was a warrior hewn from stone, yet showing his soft side. A side I never expected him to have. I suppose to have defied orders to be at Barren Light that day with even a handful of soldiers he must have the capability to care deeply. I took a moment to look at him - really look at him. The mask of stoicism was down. Right now I was not a threat, a soldier, an ally or some strange alien from the past. I was a friend. A companion. And so, as I exhaled, I let my own guard down too, and smiled a bright and genuine smile before taking another deep swig of the vile liquid in my mug. Kotallo mirrored me, his smile wide but grounded.
“You’re right.” I picked up the carved wooden lancehorn figure from next to the Strike board, studying it as I continued. “I have spent the last few months mourning the loss of my world; so much so that it has greatly hindered my ability to adjust to this new one. I allow myself to get swept up in helping Aloy because it keeps my focus away from that grief for a moment, just like I did when I built the technology to freeze myself. I haven’t yet let myself dream about who I would like to be now - as an individual with a whole new world to explore, new tribes and cultures. New friends.” I gestured to him with my cup, still beaming at the thought that these people I that had come into my life were just that. Friends. Friends that cared about me enough that they would bring me tea and blankets and watch the sunset with me. As I stood to get a refill, I set down the lancehorn, slotting it in to a divot on the highest terrain on the board, and the images of my family’s faces that were so vivid in my mind’s eye finally faded away, like a fog lifting to reveal a beautiful sunny day. A hum of satisfaction rumbled from Kotallo and he sank the remainder of his ale, setting his mug down in an unspoken request to fill it also. Perhaps he too could sense the shift in me.
“To new friends.”
I raised my mug as he spoke, adding: “And to letting go of things that no longer serve us.” And as I tipped my head back to drink, I could have sworn he winked at me, the corner of his mouth turned skyward.
For a while, we continued to chat and drink; me telling stories of skipping school as a teenager, himself telling tales of being out on training missions and drawing unfortunate markings on his comrades with body paint when they passed out asleep. I even got to see him laugh! Eventually Kotallo got fed up of watching me examine every Strike figurine and decided to teach me how to play, setting up simple opponent boards and helping me to figure out how to use my pieces to win.
“Figured it out yet?” He returned to the table with mug number 4, and I was a little surprised at his motion for me to scootch along the bench a little for him to sit beside me. By now the ale had started a buzz going in my head, and even the gentle brush of his knee against my own had me blushing a little. My body, seemingly of it’s own volition, curled into his closeness like a purring cat as I assessed the board. I picked up a piece and moved it, pausing and holding my hand in place while I decided whether I was sure of the move. A slight huff floated over my shoulder. The gentle weight of his large, warm hand covered my own, moving the piece one place to the left. Lingering. Then vanishing. I looked up to find our noses mere inches away, the ghost of a smirk on his face. Was the man… flirting? My traitorous eyes flicked down to notice the small, vertical scar through his upper lip before I shook myself internally. Kotallo and flirting are two words that would never be uttered in the same breath. Yet still, the idea had a flicker of embers stirring in my core. Must be the ale.
We soon finished strategising with the Strike board and fell into an unusually tense silence. I pretended to observe the dregs in the bottom of my empty mug.
“A thought for a thought, Old One.” I rolled my eyes at the name.
The only words that came to my mind to describe my thoughts were from some of my favourite fictional literature from my old life. “I think, Kotallo, that it would be very easy for me to love you.” I paused for effect and to see if he would react. He didn’t. He merely waited for the end of my sentence. “Yet, I think it would be easier still to call you my friend.” I couldn’t help but admit that I was enjoying this new dynamic between us, whatever that was, and I was fully prepared to go with the flow of it. Ale induced or not. Though now the feeling was out in the open, I was afraid of what he might say in response. I realised my heart was pounding in my ears and my breaths shallow. I watched him as he seemed to contemplate his response; the thought he was to share in return for mine.
“I think,” he began, “that this is a good thing.” I tried to keep the surprise off my face, despite the fact I knew he could read my face look an open book. “Since Erend is away tonight, I will need a friend to help me remove some of my armour. And I am most definitely NOT going in there to ask Varl or Zo.” He gestured toward one of the closed doors on the opposite side of the room where the pair had made their bedroom. I huffed a laugh. Fair enough. I wouldn’t entertain the thought of going in there either. He nodded towards the room that we shared with the Oseram and stood to let me get up from the bench. My body suddenly felt light as air as I strode towards our quarters with a spring in my step.
The ceremony to lay Regalla to rest took some time and she bided hers entertaining the young children with bright holograms from her Focus while it went on. By the time the ceremony and laments had finished, it was well into the evening, even later when Kotallo found her curled up in the big tree just outside the Memorial Grove, idly kicking her foot back and forth as she waited.
“I apologize for keeping you so long,” Kotallo said as he walked over, staring up at her and she merely gazed down at him with a grin.
“I wasn’t in any hurry, big guy.” She sat up and rolled off the limb, grin growing as Kotallo caught her with one arm and a heavy grunt, though it gave way to an amused grin of his own. “Nice catch. I bet you could do it one handed.”
He rolled his eyes and deadpanned, “You are hilarious.”
“I try,” she replied cheekily, picking her pack up off the ground as he set her down, then she whistled and looked to the charger stomping over. “I need to be on my way.”
“So, you are returning to Meridian then?” he asked, and she could hear the disappointment in his voice as he asked too.
She sighed and looked away. “My duty is to the Sun King, Kotallo, I can’t just forgo it because of what we’ve found.”
“I know,” he murmured, gently caressing her cheek and she finally turned her eyes back to his, blinking in surprise as he watched her with such a soft fondness. “It brings me pride that you will continue to carry your duty as I will here. Even though a great distance will lie between us.”
“We can always talk to one another,” she said, tapping her Focus. “GAIA, Aloy, and Beta are working on a way to set up the bigger network so we can maintain farther distances, but we’ll see as it progresses.” She let out another sigh. “But I do need to get on the road…it’ll be a long way to Meridian from here.”
Kotallo nodded, pulling his hand away. “I understand.” He stepped back as she climbed atop the charger. “I have something to give you before you leave.”
She looked down. “What is it?”
Reaching behind him, he pulled out a thick, corded bracelet lined with dark and light blue and yellow beads, similar to the ones on his armor. “You are fond of bracelets…so I made this the night we came back from defeating the Zeniths.”
With a heartful smile, she held out her left hand and he gently slipped it onto her wrist, his hands holding onto hers for a moment after it fell against her skin; she slowly pulled her hand away and pressed it to his cheek and he turned his gaze to meet hers. “I’ll come back as soon as I have leave to do so, Kotallo. You have my word.”
He leaned into her touch and turned slightly, brushing his lips against her palm, and murmured, “Do not delay your duty for me. We are bound to our honors, and we must uphold them.”
“That we must,” she answered and when she pulled away, Kotallo stepped back and watched as she sped off into the setting sun.
***
“If you sigh one more time because you miss that damned Tenakth warrior, I will personally hire an assassin to murder you,” Marad muttered, still holding his hands behind his back as the birthday celebration for Itamen went on; he couldn’t take another minute of watching her idly playing with the bracelet on her wrist and sighing profusely.
Her eyes narrowed and she griped, “Jokes on you, Marad, being here with you is akin to murder in and of itself.”
He glanced over. “It has been a full two weeks since you returned from the Forbidden West and all you have done is sigh and silently bemoan your heartache.”
“I take that as a personal testament that you’ve never cared for someone, Marad,” she retorted and smiled as Avad walked over. “Your Radiance, quite a celebration you’ve planned for your brother. I could barely contain my joy as I entered the room.”
Avad gave her a polite grin and took his place in between the two spies. “Please, this is the last place you want to be.” He gave her a knowing look. “I am of the same mind as Marad. You have been quite unhappy since returning to Meridian.”
She heaved a sigh and just slightly avoided looking annoyed. “I am perfectly functional, King Avad.”
“I will take my leave,” Marad said and nodded his head to the two as he walked by, heading towards Vanasha and Itamen.
“Have you and your Tenakth friend spoken since you returned?”
She hummed. “We attempt to. Long range communication with the Focus hasn’t been thoroughly fixed yet. Aloy and GAIA are working on that.” Inconspicuously, she cast a glance around the room, her huntress training getting the better of her as she waited for an attack. “Anytime we try it’s choppy and we get cut off a lot from signal loss.”
Avad frowned, a true look of sympathy for his dear friend and infiltrator. “I’m sorry. I know it must be hard not to communicate with him often.”
Shrugging, she replied, “I sent a letter with a convoy heading for the Memorial Grove, so maybe he will get it, maybe he won’t.”
“Well, I have mind to believe that he—”
“Your Majesty!” someone shouted and the two spun, her already moving to pull out her sword and stand before Avad; the saw a guardsman running up. “Your Majesty, My Lady, there’s a Tenakth warrior at the stairs of the palace!”
The two looked to one another with shocked expressions; Avad shook his head. “Come again, soldier?”
The guard swallowed and pointed back towards the doors. “A Tenakth warrior, Your Majesty. He just showed up and demanded to speak to you.”
Avad glanced at her. “It can’t be Chief Hekarro, can it?”
“There’s no way he’d come on his lonesome,” she said. “But…I don’t know of any Tenakth warriors who would march right into Meridian and demand an audience with the king.” She raised a hand. “That’s a lie, I actually know several, but none that would come now.”
The King turned and waved Marad over. “Marad, if anyone asks, I had to step out to hear a report from guards along the norther border.”
“Of course, Your Eminence. I’ll handle it all.”
The two were quick to hurry to the throne, surrounded by a flurry of guards, and when they opened the doors, they were met by shouting and when she caught a glance of the Tenakth warrior in the middle of a circle of spears, she was quick to silence them all. “Enough! Carja, put your weapons down and step away from the Tenakth!”
Some obeyed but then Avad stepped in. “As your King, I order you to lower your weapons and move.”
Immediately, the warrior was no longer surrounded, and she hurried down the steps to the man, eyes wide and heart beating wildly in her chest. “Do you have any idea how many rules and regulations you’ve broken by coming here!” she hissed. “Let alone the fact that Carja and Tenakth relations haven’t been the best lately, you literally waltzed through the gates of the Sun Palace like it was nothing!” Something suddenly occurred to her, and a look of pure horror came over her face. “Does Chief Hekarro even know you’ve made this journey here?”
He merely took a single look at her and then turned to Avad. “You are the Carjan King?”
Avad nodded with a calm smile. “I am. You must be Kotallo. Our dear friend here has spoken quite a lot about you there past weeks.”
Kotallo turned his head up, an act of a proud warrior, but not one too proud to put himself above a king. “I have heard you are a fair king, and I know as such from being a Marshal of my Chief’s. You listen to your people when they present their needs.”
“I try to,” he answered. “I cannot hear them all at once, but I do the best I can.” Avad smiled. “Is there something you have come to ask of me, Kotallo?”
“Indeed, there is.” He turned and took her left hand in his right. “I have come to ask if there is any way you will give my heart leave to come back to the Forbidden West as an official representative of the Sundom.”
Even Avad seemed shocked at the request, though he had expected something akin to it. She herself was more shocked and she merely gaped at Kotallo as he continued to speak to the king. “I have never known a love like hers. What we share…it is impossible to live without.”
“Is that so?”
“It is,” he affirmed. “The day she left, I felt…lost.” Kotallo glanced at her. “A day without her presence is like surviving in a year with no rainfall, let alone two weeks without it.” He turned back to the king. “If I must battle your fiercest warrior, I shall, but I will not take leave of this city unless she will return with me.”
Avad was watching them with a fondness, a bit of bitterness if he was honest, but a fondness nonetheless, and he gestured to her. “While she does work as my right-hand woman, I cannot control what she decides. If she is to leave and become the Carja representative…she must decide this for herself.”
Kotallo took this in and nodded, turning to her once more, confessing, “He speaks truth. I cannot make you return with me, but…I would welcome your company with me.” She looked away, trying to hide the tears in her eyes. “I have offended you, coming here, haven’t I?”
“No, you big idiot,” she whispered, swallowing thickly, and reaching quickly to wipe the tears from her eyes with her free hand. “I can’t believe you came all the way from Memorial Grove to tell me you loved me.”
“If it appeases you, I should’ve told you before you left me that day.”
“You are not making this any better,” she retorted, watching as Avad waved off the flurry of Carja guardsmen until it was just the three and the door guards a few feet away; she met his gaze. “You truly love me?”
Kotallo nodded. “Enough to step foot into the Carjan capitol and ask you to come home with me.”
“Home?”
“Home.” He squeezed her hand. “Come home with me, my heart.”
She pursed her lips, glancing at Avad. “May I be relinquished of infiltration duty to take up the mantle of representative?”
Avad made a gesture of thought, tapping his pointer to his chin. “I don’t know…being a diplomatic representative is going to be a lot of work.” He grinned at her. “Do you think you can handle it?”
“Do you think you can handle me not being here?”
“Oh, whatever shall I do without my dear infiltrator here to annoy me on a constant basis?” Avad chuckled as her lips pulled up in a grin. “I see no reason why you shouldn’t be allowed to take up this responsibility, my dear friend.” He reached out and she let him take her free hand. “But I must stress the importance of maintaining good relations with the Tenakth people. You may not be Carjan, but I am sure the wounds of the Red Raids are still raw with many Tenakth. You will face opposition from some, you must know this.”
“I do,” she nodded, taking a moment to look at Kotallo. “But I think me and the big guy can handle whatever comes our way.”
Avad tipped his head in agreement. “Then as your King, I hereby reassign you to the Forbidden West as the Representative of the Sundom. You are to assist Chief Hekarro and his Marshals with their needs and provide diplomatic assistance when needed.” He shooed them both away. “Please, take the night to recuperate before you journey back West. I must, however, return to Itamen’s party.”
As he walked off, Kotallo muttered, “So, I do not have to fight anyone?”
She snorted. “No, big guy, we do things a little differently than over in the West.” She started to lead him towards her bedroom. “We talk things out instead of fighting.”
He grunted. “Seems like a waste of time.”
“Well, we can’t all be nations of battle prowess. Sometimes talking does good work.” She led him to her room and opened the door, letting him come inside before she closed it and locked it behind them; she watched as he looked around. “It’s probably a lot different than what you’re used to.”
Kotallo nodded. “There’s so much…fabric. And gold.”
“Gold and red cloth are prominent in the Sundom.” She sat on the bed and patted the spot beside her, smiling as he carefully sat down, part of him worried his weight wouldn’t hold; she turned and put one leg over his lap, the other behind at his back and gently laid her chin on his shoulder. “You really came all this way for me, Kotallo.”
It wasn’t a question.
He turned his head and looked at her. “I love you, my heart.” Leaning forward, he gently knocked his head to hers. “I couldn’t spend another day without you at my side.”
“Missed me that much, huh?” she joked, but he saw the tears gathering in her eyes, the soft smile on her lips.
Kotallo reached up and cupped her cheek. “I missed you every morning I woke up and didn’t see your face beside me. I missed you ever night I closed my eyes, and your face wasn’t the last thing I saw before I fell into sleep.” He nuzzled her nose with his own. “I have missed you greatly, my heart.”
The tears started to drip down her cheeks and she shifted her head, pressing her face into his bare shoulder, but he could feel her smile on his skin. “I love you, Kotallo.”
“And I you, my heart,” he murmured, gently maneuvering them until she was laying with his arm around waist, her pressed up against his side with her head on his chest.
Five Times Sky Clan Bonks Noodles (affectionate) + One Time Sky Clan Bonks Noodles (derogatory) [Kotallo x f!reader]
I’m keeping the working title because…I am shit at titles. Un-beta’d. If there are glaring mistakes please feel free to point them out. F!reader that mostly sticks to canon from what is gleaned in HFW (Utaru-born Tenakth reader), part of a bigger canon in my head that I’ve been working on. Canon-adjacent. Minor spoilers. T for language, mild gore.
— I.
“You fought better than I thought you would.”
Your head snaps to the right, teeth bared in pain as you wrap stained linen around your middle. An uneven slash from a burrower bisects your navel, blooming ever more red. His words hit low; you hadn’t shot off a single arrow before you’d been knocked from your feet. “Fuck you,” you hiss, voice strained. You keep eye contact, refusing to cow to the approval you never asked for.
Kotallo sighs softly, ducking into the darkened tent, erected against the mountain wall. The war paint on his face and upper right arm is scratched and fading, the mottled white over olive skin, and it’s the only evidence of the skirmish your squad had taken part in. “You need to apply more pressure or you will bleed out before night falls.” His words are harsh, but his lips pull down on one side as he redresses your wound with sharp, confident movements.
Your eyes roll before they close in shock, his touch making you wince as he carefully winds the bloodied cloth around your waist. “I’d hate to be a disappointing draft,” you huff. “What do your people do for their dead? Leave them for the glinthawks?” You face forward, bloodied and painted arms crossing in front of you.
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