#But. still. 14 hours. it’s laughable | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wheneclipsefalls · 2 years ago

Text

Ma Neteyam pt.14

Do me a favor y'all and let you me know what you think of this chapter. For some reason I really struggled to feel satisfied with it, constantly obsessing over whether or not it turned out ok. I could really use some feeback right now. Love you! <3

Part 13 I Masterlist I AO3

Pairing: Omega Neteyam (20 yrs old) x Alpha Male OC

Synopsis: The days following Neteyam's heat don't go as planned.

Warnings: aged up characters, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, mentions of smut MDNI, male x male, omegaverse, power imbalance, omega/alpha dynamics, gore, blood, injury, trauma, anxiety, etc.

The next few days were a jumbled mess, hardly conceivable for Kxolo who at least had half a mind left in the midst of heightened lust. He was drawn between sleeping, fucking, and small moments where he had enough sense to care for his omega. The days blurred together.

The sweet essence of his mate was quick to intoxicate him into a one track mind focus. The experience reminded him of the days he spent as a youth drinking the strong liquor with his friends for the first time and waking up in the morning with a spotty memory. This, however, left him bone-tired yet still yearning for more.

Neteyam was implacable, waking up every couple of hours with wandering hands and whining pleas. Naturally he was more than happy to help his needy little mate, but by day three he was starting to feel the physical toll it had on his body. The two would collapse upon the disastrous jumble of fabric that used to be a nest and Kxolo waned in the afterburn of overworked muscles.

Regardless, a word of complaint never left the alpha’s lips. One look at the sleeping boy curled up against his side and the Olo’eyktan knew his exhaustion was nothing in the light of his poor omega’s fatigue. Kxolo vowed to endlessly tire himself out pleasing his omega if it meant keeping Neteyam curled by his side forever. He, however, did worry for Neteyam as the days flew by. It took considerable persuasion to get any sort of food and water in the stubborn omega’s system. Some days required a creative bargain to placate him, promises of filling his tight hole in exchange for finishing the water and fruit prepared for him.

When those bargains still resulted in a pouting omega that constantly tried to get a hand under Kxolo’s loincloth, the Olo’eyktan would change his deal to a well spanked ass as reward for not taking all of the food like a good boy. One way or another, Neteyam always ended up begrudgingly eating his food as fast as possible.

Truth be told, Kxolo was oftentimes surprised that he was able to put a stern foot down in these situations. He had never experienced such an insatiable lust in his life before. Even his periodic ruts gave him desires that seemed easier to quench. Naturally he figured it would do with their destined bond, making him wonder what would happen the next time his own rut would come around. He knew if it was the same level of temptation to put health and wellness aside in favor of sexual gratification, he was in for a long ride.

The one time they were able to bathe had required Kxolo sneaking Neteyam out to the lake while the omega was fast asleep. It was only when the first rush of water brushed Neteyam’s skin that he awoke with a spew of whines. The entire experience was almost laughable as the omega alternated between pouting angrily and trying to kiss along the Olo’eyktan’s body. He had to admit, there were times that the boy’s bratty attitude was endearing. The excursion, however, did not end as anticipated, the smaller male somehow managing to trip Kxolo and straddle his lap.

“You really like to push your luck, Ma Neteyam.” Kxolo ground out, but it was more of an amused chuckle than a warning. Neteyam didn’t miss a beat, reaching down to stroke his mate’s twitching member.

“You said this belongs to me, no?” Neteyam’s voice came out surprisingly stronger than Kxolo expected after all of the screaming the boy had been producing.

“I did say that.”

“Then let me have it.” Neteyam insisted, already lining the head up to his entrance.

For the first time, Kxolo was momentarily rendered speechless. Concerns for hygiene evaporated as he couldn’t resist watching Neteyam ride him, large hands guiding the boy through it, slowly teaching him the best way to take him. That spit fire attitude along with the tight velvet walls of Neteyam’s hole had him throbbing and ready to burst in record time.

Kxolo couldn’t help himself from constantly checking the treeline for passerbys. The floral scent wafting from his mate had him on high alert for other individuals creeping in through the entirety of Neteyam’s presentation. Fucking up into him at the edge of the lake, Kxolo worried that an unlucky stumbling male wouldn’t just get a few hisses but rather the full wrath of a possessive alpha on edge. It’s hard to say whether or not his small omega would be able to save a stranger from such a situation.

They left the lake almost as dirty as they came, but Kxolo couldn’t find it in himself to care. The omega would be lucky to make it home before finding his hole dripping with a new round of cum.

Kxolo’s most complexing and yet entertaining discovery was the use of Neteyam’s second language. It came in the heat of the moment, Kxolo’s lips wrapped around his small cock as the boy cried and whined, his small wrists caught in one of the Olo’eyktan’s hands to keep him from reaching for tsaheylu. At first, he had beamed around the shaft, satisfied that his omega was already babbling literal gibberish. However, when a particular word had rained from the boy’s lips over and over, the older male’s ears twitched to try and make sense of the sound.

The frequency increased until half the words Neteyam would scream during heightened cries spread into wider vowels; it was impossible for it to be Na’vi. He often forgot there was another dialectic swimming in the omega’s brain. The alpha wondered if it ever felt strange to speak exclusively Na’vi within this clan.

Kxolo tried to find the meaning of these passing words, but Neteyam was either too far gone or too stubborn to give any translations. He promised himself to get it out of the boy someday, perhaps some edging would make him more agreeable. The alpha tucked away the idea for later. His main concerns for the week were satiating Neteyam and keeping the boy from forming tsaheylu while he slept.

It was borderline impressive how persistent and clever Neteyam had been in trying to form their bond. If there was one thing Kxolo had learned about the omega it was that Neteyam had a knack for finding an angle and exploiting it to get the desired results. Or at least, he never stopped trying. After the third time of waking up to Neteyam messing with his Kuru, seconds away from creating a bond, Kxolo had decided it was time to take precautionary measures.

The Olo’eyktan’s hand ached from the countless hours of sleep where he held the boy’s small wrists together tightly. He had been tempted to use a smooth rope but the moment the soft twine was revealed Neteyam was blabbering promises of being good. All it took was a few tears from those shining eyes for Kxolo to decide he could handle holding his wrists for a few more days.

On the fifth morning Kxolo awoke on his own volition and not to the feel of small hands struggling to get out. Wrist still clamped in the Olo’eyktan’s grip, Neteyam was sprawled out beside him, body twisted in a fashion that made the alpha cringe. It was a wonder how the boy managed to contort himself into the strangest positions during his slumber. Hesitantly, he let the boy’s wrists go. They dropped like dead weight.

Neteyam looked dead to the world, tailed curled around his own thigh as soft breaths blew from his pouty lips. Kxolo was content to watch the boy for a while longer, trying to analyze whether or not his presentation had fully passed. There was a new tang to the boy’s essence, but it was misted over by his own overwhelming scent mixed in. A proud smile curled at the edges of his lips.

As it should be Kxolo mentally affirmed.

He traced one fingertip gently along the boy’s vertebrae. Neteyam’s tail lashed out, tickling at the alpha’s nose. Tickling touches laced the omega’s back and sides, slowly coercing him to awaken from slumber. Kxolo was patient, murmuring his name softly, watching the boy’s ears twitch as the only form of acknowledgment. It was a stark contrast to the marathon of pounding him into oblivion. There was still a tinge of desire lacing his lower stomach, but the Olo’eyktan held it at bay.

Beneath the overwhelming perfume of their mixed scents, Kxolo could just barely make out the essence of calm washing over the omega. He was content. Exhausted, but content.

“Ma Neteyam.” He whispered, breath catching the wispy hair at the base of Neteyam’s neck. His tail swatted against the ground, giving away his feigned sleeping. “We can’t stay here forever, my love.”

“Why not?” Neteyam spoke, lips barely parting to create anything close to tangible words.

Kxolo grinned, finally pulling the omega backwards to spoon him from behind. His own tail naturally twisted around the omega’s ankle, tracing soft patterns on the skin there. It was a tempting fantasy, staying here while the rest of Pandora continued on to figure out its own problems.

“I suppose I could keep you here. Keep my precious little omega locked away in my hut, ready and willing to take me whenever I desire.” Neteyam’s huffed laugh coalesced with the alpha’s playful growl, sharp teeth nipping at the back of his neck.

“And let you go out and have all the fun? What if you are my prisoner for a change?”

Kxolo’s eyes twinkled with delight. Instinctively, his arms tightened around the male’s middle.

“Seems only fair at this point.” Neteyam insisted. Their legs tangled together lazily, the remnants of cum sticky along their skin. Face pressed against the nape of his neck, Kxolo’s nostrils flared as he breathed in his scent as if it was the only breathable oxygen left on Pandora.

He turned the omega to face him before surrendering his own wrists to the boy.

“Then take me now, omega.” Kxolo was certain there was nothing more beautiful than the wide toothy grin that Neteyam sent him in return. Small giggles threatened to escape the younger male’s throat, but he kept it at bay. The wrists were snatched by smaller hands that struggled to cinch around them completely. Neteyam playfully yanked on them, causing a deep chuckle to rumble from the alpha.

“You may find, however, that I don’t cause as much trouble as you, little one.” Kxolo’s smirk never dropped even as he lifted his arms to protect himself from Neteyam’s weak hits. Laughter bubbled between the two, legs intertwining and wrestling for the upperhand.

Despite his aching muscles, the Olo’eyktan’s strength still greatly outmatched that of his bone tired omega. He caught the small boy’s wrists, pinning them against the floor before straddling that slim waist and crashing his lips down feverishly on Neteyam’s.

All remnants of struggle melted into preening arched movements from Neteyam. Their tongues danced in perfect rhythm as the alpha kissed the daylights out of him. Kxolo bit at the bottom lip when he could smell the familiar scent of slick leaking down his omega’s leg. When they finally broke apart, Neteyam’s eyes were dilated and breath heavy.

“Alpha-”

“You need to heal, Neteyam. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Neteyam huffed in protest but apparently was too tired to fight back. It only took a few steps on shaky legs for Neteyam to almost fall out of the tree, therefore landing himself in Kxolo’s arms for the rest of the trek to the lake. Although his inner alpha slightly whined at having to wash away the visual claim, Kxolo meticulously scrubbed at the boy’s skin till all remnants of white were gone. Luckily, he was satisfied to find that their mixed perfume had remained evermore obvious.

The simple act of putting on clothes again felt foreign after days of primarily nudity. The weight of his carefully carved knife sheathed in its holster held a more present weight than he could recall. The bright side was that with some proper persuasion, the Olo’eyktan managed to convince Neteyam to adorn some traditional color of his clan. The sight made him swell in pride, grin only widening even more when the boy wordlessly added the waist beads.

“She is expected to return soon. Surely that will take some of the edge off.” Leynyey assured the young Na’vi girl. Vamai already knew first hand that Pulo was a tough trainer. She could easily imagine him running the poor girl through the reps endlessly, especially with the absence of his own mate on a foraging trip. Vamai herself was growing tired of Pulo’s constant presence.

Usually Neteyam’s petty dislike of Pulo was enough to grant Vamai and the Sully boy some proper alone time. However, it had been days since word of Neteyam’s presentation had surfaced and without Neteyam or Epok’s company, the task of keeping the other alpha entertained had somehow fallen to her. To say Vamai was growing restless would be an understatement.

Leynyey continued to carefully weave feathers into the younger Na’vi female’s hair as Vamai absent mindedly prepared the poison arrows carefully. Vamai had always felt a bit outside of the inner circle, especially when it came to her own gender, but listening to their endless chatter was a welcomed distraction from worrying about Neteyam. Five days was not a ridiculous or unusual amount of time for presentations to last. Some newly presented omegas were cooped up in their huts for an entire week. Vamai herself regretted the length of her own.

Cold but hot. Burning and empty. Shivering across the soft surface of a secluded hut, one that was not meant for her. It was meant for them. Dark webs of these memories cloud her mental presence without permission.

She shook her head, mentally flinging all residue of that dark time from her brain. Dwelling on the past would get her nowhere. She had learned. She had evolved. Nothing beyond that was important.

To her dismay, however, Vamai had found that her inner omega took comfort in shifting her thoughts towards the other Sully son. The same male that had given her the best orgasm of her life on a whim. The same who wouldn’t stop trying to contact her through the weird necklace. Although Neteyam's absence was the perfect time to adorn the piece without a hint of suspicion, she had held off. It was kept safely tucked away in her baskets, hoping to muddle any unexpected sounds while her parents were home. She hadn’t blatantly been ignoring the male, but the omega oftentimes let his calls drift off until he had given up.

On her weaker nights, she had answered. Only with short words and snide comments, but enough to keep Lo’ak chatting away. It was difficult to say whether he was making up for her own short answers or if he was simply that talkative. He spoke of his family and duties mostly. He had learned within the first day that any mention of what happened at the waterfall would result in immediate disconnection. Memories of that day still added to the regular program of Lo’ak lacing her dreams, but explicitly talking about it would be too much.

Occasionally he would ask about Neteyam, wondering how he was holding up. A tinge of panic would race through her heart at the mere mention of the omega. She didn’t require a specific request from the Olo’eyktan to know that sharing the news of Neteyam’s presentation with his family would not be appreciated. Luckily, her clipped and vague response was nothing out of the ordinary for these conversations.

Part of her expected him to give up, finding these interactions unsatisfactory. Still, he continued to persevere. Vamai lamented that her nature sent a wave of relief when his smirky voice echoed through her room every night. She fought the urge to answer immediately. A few nights she was stubborn enough to not answer at all, but those bursts of strengthened resolve were fleeting. Inevitably, her hand would on its own accord reach into the basket and grab the strange sky people tech with practiced familiarity.

“Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to see Olo’eyktan till the end of the week.”

Vamai’s head snapped up, focus finally coming back to the present moment. Sure enough, off in the distance Neteyam could be spotted shyly walking next to their Olo’eyktan. Relief flooded her system, legs carrying her towards the other omega without conscious thought. Every other clan member was ignored and dodged as she bounded towards her best friend.

Neteyam nearly toppled over when Vamai sprung at him, jumping up to reach her arms around the taller omega. Thankfully, Kxolo was there stabilizing his mate within a second. She veered back slightly, but only to ensure that the boy’s already shaking legs wouldn’t collapse beneath him.

“Oh my Eywa! Never leave me with these skxawngs again!” Her grip was merciless, causing Kxolo to shift slightly closer, but Neteyam only laughed at her antics. Still, Vamai could feel the heavy gaze of an anxious alpha holding back the urge to sweep his mate away again. She squeezed him that much tighter, until the distinct smell of Kxolo bombarded her senses.

She pulled back and scrunched her nose.

“Don’t you think you overdid it a little?” Vamai sneered at her Olo’eyktan. While Neteyam’s ears twitched and cheeks tinted pink, Kxolo only grinned down at the small female proudly with crossed arms. “I mean my Eywa, putting a baby inside of him would’ve been a lesser effect.”

“Ok that’s enough.” Neteyam groaned, fighting the urge to cover his reddening complexion.

“Well I thought you would want to spend some time with my mate, but I’d be happy to take him off your hands if it bothers you so much.” Kxolo was already snaking both arms around the boy’s waist and pulling him back into his hard chest. He glowed with the arrogance and pride of a mated alpha. Vamai supposed she couldn’t expect anything less from an alpha still experiencing the lingering effects of omega presentation. She shot forward, snatching Neteyam away roughly. There was no telling how long Kxolo would keep him if given the chance and Vamai was not interested in finding out.

“Don’t be so selfish.” Her bared teeth glimmered in the sunlight. Although reluctant, Kxolo’s grip loosened before finally parting from his mate. A few words of salutations were whispered affectionately followed by a prolonged kiss, that was sure to have more tongue than necessary, before the Olo’eyktan strode off to join the hunting party.

Vamai wasted no time in corralling the other omega away from the clan members. They naturally fell into stride along the familiar path that led towards the small river. Teasing comments easily left her lips, amused by the faint glow of embarrassment that Neteyam’s face still held. It was endearing and amusing to see how shy the boy insisted on being.

However, when the conversation steered away from his presentation and the explicit acts that he and the Olo’eyktan had performed, Neteyam was surprised to find that Vamai didn’t immediately reel it back. She indulged his curiosity about the last few days, complaining about Pulo’s annoying badgering mixed with the boring conversations held by the other clan women. As always, Vamai spoke with a vibrancy and energy that left Neteyam exhausted, but he could sense a missing passion in each of her short stories.

They lounged along the river, this time Neteyam joined her in sprawling out over the shallow waters rushing along the colorful rocks. Gentle breezes and trickling water down her back sweetly cooled Vamai’s skin. They lay there for a while, staring up at the canopy of trees creating intricate shadows over the landscape. It was comfortable, even relaxing. However, Vamai could not stop herself from peeking over at the boy from the corner of her eyes periodically.

Neteyam preened under the golden sunlight with closed eyes and an evenly rising and falling chest that made her question whether or not he was asleep. Possessive marks and bites littered his skin. That was expected, but her reaction wasn’t.

Vamai’s chest tightened as her golden eyes danced over the marks left in a seemingly intimate fashion. Although her first habit was to imagine these marks as possessive branding left in an aggressive heat driven fashion, her mind couldn’t help but conjure sweet images of kind words whispered between those visual reminders of mating. And with Neteyam breathing in the sunlight with the satisfaction and peace of an omega who desired nothing more in the world, it was impossible to spin it any other way.

“What are you looking for?” His eyes didn’t open, but she averted her own.

“Nothing.”

He finally peeked through narrowed slits, studying his friend with a diligence that made her look away. Vamai clumsily grappled for a handful of colorful rocks in the rivers and began to roll them absent mindedly against her palm.

“We didn’t bond.”

She could hear the swish of water, indicating Neteyam sitting up and scooting closer.

“That’s good, right? Isn’t that what you were worried about?”

“Yeah…it’s good.”

The awkward tension filling the space flipped her stomach into constant summersaults. The rocks dug into the soft flesh of her palms. Electricity buzzed at her nerves, a constant temptation to run off into the treeline. She prayed to Eywa that Neteyam could not sense her sudden apprehension. However, those sparks singed her from the inside until it felt that the only release would be to spit out the words lodged in her throat.

“You are ok, though, right?” Vamai’ neck strained at the sudden snap turn. Neteyam blinked back at her, bewildered. “You can tell me honestly.”

Neteyam stilled under her focused attention, eyes darting cautiously along her expression.

“I actually feel a lot better.”

“Than during your presentation, yeah of course-”

“No, better than before it.”

Vamai’s tail curled in the air, ears twitching anxiously. Neteyam shifted slightly and rubbed at the back of his neck with a sigh but to her surprise, he didn’t back down from the statement.

“It’s hard to explain but…” Vamai jerked slightly when a sudden burst of energy had Neteyam shuffling to his knees and facing her properly. “Before it just felt like that voice at the back of my head was a constant annoyance, like some force of nature that worked against my own free will. It’s disorienting and confusing and always bashing in my skull, or at least it was.”

She knew that feeling all too well. Omega instincts were nothing to underestimate, something she had come to accept.

“And now, it’s less restless. Like it’s been satiated. I can understand the origin of thoughts and desires but they are easier to pick through, easier to comprehend. I suppose that’s what fully presenting is, getting rid of the fight between yourself and your nature. You know what I mean?” He nudged her softly with an eased smile.

Vamai’s own lips felt physically pained to send him one in return.

“Yeah, right.”

Her thoughts turned clumsily with an unleashed vitality. Cold chills raced along her vertebrae as she watched him beam. She wondered if it was wrong to agree with him, to let him think that these feelings were simply effects of omega presentation. It was slightly unnerving to watch him speak of the event with such fondness and relief. Surely, the sexual pleasure and release was not to be underestimated but it was the way he rambled on about alignment with his nature that left a heavy weight on her chest.

The longer he babbled happily about it, the heavier it became. The tangible strain of smiling and nodding along increased tenfold. His words tangled with her own racing thoughts that constantly worked to decipher the situation. They bounced against the inner walls of her skull until it was throbbing, until it felt as if it was on the brink of shattering.

“Vamai.” Reality snapped back into place. “I’m boring you.” Neteyam half heartedly huffed a laugh, but there was no mistaking the concern swimming along his features.

“Of course not.” It didn’t ring true in her own ears and judging by Neteyam’s grimace, there was little hope that he believed her either. Her fingers twisted through the colorful frayed strings of her loincloth, expelling the smallest amount of the zapping electricity. The gaze of sunlight upon her azure skin suddenly felt penetrating, eating away at her until a bead of sweat trickled from her forehead down the slope of her soft cheek. So much for subtly.

“I know that your presentation was different.”

Different.

Curled up alone in a miserable ball of grief and pain, tortured by her own nature. Cursing the name of Eywa for five days, while searching for relief from the aching fire that consumed everything in its wake. The cold slab of the cave floor a hollow and empty contrast to the embrace that she had grown accustomed to. The arms that were meant to be holding her dearly, soothing away every morsel of pain and desire.

Different is one way to describe it.

If only he knew.

“Maybe I should be a little more sensitive-”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Nete.” She sprung to her feet, focusing on shaking the remains of water away from her thighs instead of the threatening wall of tears behind glazed eyes. “I’m not a baby. I can handle getting the inside scoop. In fact, I encourage it.”

As if caught in a steel trap, her eyes were forced to calmly peer down at the boy. His own tail was around his hip. She couldn’t tell if it was a sign of apprehension or rather pity, but either option caused her stomach to flip.

“I know…It’s just you don’t really talk about it that much.”

She knew this story. Knew how it was going to play out. The looks of sympathy, the casually thrown promises of better days. All just shields to the uncomfortable pity that other Na’vi don’t know what to do with. Simply masks that were worn to show support and comfort, while secretly thanking the Great Mother that their misfortune was not as drastic. If only they knew how transparent their feelings truly were.

Followed by the initial cheer of relief, each familiar face had been painted with those masks upon the morning of her return. Family and friends had constantly reached out, eager to put a hand of consolation on her shoulder or share personal remedies and advice. Kxolo himself had visited almost every day after the occurrence, feverishly promising assistance, or revenge depending on his mood.

Time had passed. The well-meaning, yet nagging, soothing had slowed until finally ceasing. Still, those looks continued. Her story lived on in the whispered conversations racketing along the clan in her absence, voices dripped in a somber tone.

Neteyam was immune to this, blissfully unaware and therefore holding the capacity to treat her like every other Na’vi.

Her best friend for a reason.

Vamai’s saving grace came in the form of a panting beta, rushing through the greenery with dilated pupils and a heavy chest. Dread fell over the pair. His presence penetrated the atmosphere brashly, swarming Vamai’s initial feelings of relief into a bundle of anxiety at his appearance. She recognized him as Lanil, one of the newer betas joining the hunting party after finally passing his Iknimaya.

Twin tails perked in alert, watching the male with emploring eyes.

“The hunting party returned but Olo’eyktan-”

Neteyam was gone, racing through the trees with frantic urgency before the male could finish.

The healer’s tent was bursting at the seams with Na’vi. The crowd suffocated the outer walls, only shooed away by the young healers in training. A tunnel was forced through the crowd only to allow healers rushing in and out of the hut, carrying baskets of plants and ointments. It was the blood staining their hands, however, that had bile threatening to crawl up Neteyam’s throat.

The omega didn’t have to push through the crowd, to his horror they parted for him till he had breached the entrance. Out of respect as Olo’eyktan’s mate or out of sympathy, he couldn’t tell. Although he had rushed to the tent with a speed that had his joints aching, peeking through the gap in the tent, Neteyam found his feet planted to the muddy soil.

The sliver of sunlight illuminating the musky tent only revealed a peak of blue skin, nothing to indicate his mate’s wellbeing. Kxolo’s natural essence was woven too tightly with those of strangers and gushing blood. Who’s blood though? It was a smell that Neteyam had grown well accustomed to. However, back home it was commonly tinged with the perfume of gunpowder and a metallic undertone. It had always twisted his stomach into knots, urging him to check for injuries among his father and mother. Now, however, it rendered him stagnant.

He swore that Eywa herself had strung an entanglement of roots and vines as a binding for his feet to the forest floor.

“Neteyam, you can come in.” Tsahik poked her head through the sliver of an opening coaxing him inside with a rushed wave of her palm. He followed reluctantly, but she was across the length of the hut too fast for him to keep up.

Thick permeated air of smoke and herbal clouds weighed heavy in his lungs. Nai’vi warriors were sprawled across the expanse of the hut. Groans of pain emitted from younger warriors as wounds were patched and sewn while the elder stubbornly suffered in silence. Shriveled into himself, Neteyam trudged along, carefully directed himself around the thrashing tails and rushing healers.

The scream that broke loose was toe curling. It cut through the atmosphere with a merciless slice, causing a squeak to fall from his lips as the omega shuffled and tripped on his own feet.

It was then that familiar hands caught him from behind, slowly lowering him to sit.

A small sound echoed in his throat at the sight of his mate very much alive and not the male screaming beyond the curtain. With a quivered lip and the inability to form words that made sense in the situation, Neteyam geared his energy towards looking over the alpha for serious injuries. Patches of purple and dark blue littered his skin, broken up by small cuts, but they were minor. The only serious injury was the deep wound under his back shoulder blade that a small Na’vi girl worked on patching diligently.

“You’re ok.”

Kxolo simply grunted in response, eyes barely flashing to meet Neteyam’s for a moment. He sat motionless, still as the stone that Neteyam and his siblings used to jump off of and into the river. Although the girl rubbed a generous amount of ointment along the open wound, he never flinched.

“Who let you in here?” The gruff rumble of his voice cut brashly. The deep ember of calming affection had dissipated from his irises, leaving only a vacant stare in its place. Kxolo was already moving to shuffle the omega out of the tent, protests erupting from his healer. “I’m fine. Go home, Neteyam.”

“B-but-”

A shrilling scream whipped at the wind once more, cascading a shiver down Neteyam’s spine. Kxolo didn’t flinch, showed no visual signs of recognition but every muscle tensed and locked into place, the veins of his hands protruding from his tightening grip. A small beta sprinted from behind the curtain, blood scattered along her forearms and hands that held an empty basket firmly. Eyes followed her form till it had been swallowed by the tent’s closing flap.

“Olo’eyktan…I’m finished.” The small beta behind him quietly spoke, eyes meeting with Neteyam’s for a moment. He searched her expression for answers, foolishly hoping to find an account of today’s events and how it had led to such bloodshed. An explanation as to where the kind glow in his mate’s eyes had gone.

“Go home.” Kxolo’s voice came out as a distant whisper this time, body curling forward towards the mysterious curtain that hid a gory scene. Just watching his looming frame edge closer to the fabric made Neteyam’s knees shake. Images of wounds and shrapnel embedded in skin invaded his mind. Unwanted visuals that haunted Neteyam’s mind as memories, ones never meant to have been obtained.

Kxolo on the other hand took long strides laced with firm determination across the space. Although his head was not held as high as usual, the Olo’eyktan never looked down. Dark orbs staring straight ahead, ready to face whatever horrors awaited him behind that thin wall of protection.

A sudden burning to follow emerged. Neteyam wanted to warn him, to reel him back from scenes that can never be unseen. Memories that linger like smoke in the air, deeply seated in your lungs until there is no more room for fresh air. Having Toruk Makto, the mighty warrior and defeater of Sky People, for a father is a matter of fate. It can’t be escaped because it was strung into his destiny before Neteyam’s first breath. Eywa choses where we weave into the fabric of other’s lives. Neteyam couldn’t avoid seeing these griefs, but he could protect Kxolo.

The wailing grew intensely, the weight of heavy dread in the air sinking down onto everyone within earshot.

Neteyam’s hand just barely reached to circle around one of Kxolo’s wrists gently before his broad frame split the soft fabric. Less than two steps, however, and Neteyam realized he wouldn’t have to tug the male back after all.

“You are not needed here.” Tsahik braced an arm across his chest, backing him up until fully out of the secluded space. Kxolo planted his feet, but didn’t dare push back in resistance. Curious gazes fell upon the throuple.

“He is my student, I’m helping.”

“And now he lies among my wounded, under my care. You will only get in the way. Go home and rest.”

“Rest.” Kxolo scoffed, nose scrunching up to reveal the tips of his canines. Tsahik was neither bothered nor dettered by the attitude. The undivided attention from those around made Neteyam squirm and tighten his hold on the alpha’s wrist, but he didn’t allow himself to snuggle close for comfort as he desired. Not when he was caught in the midst of a showdown between the clan’s Tsahik and Olo’eyktan. Unspoken murmurs morphed into a frozen tension locking everyone in place, the only sound continuing being that of the injured Na’vi behind the curtain.

Were it not for his concern for Kxolo, Neteyam would’ve shrunk away, convinced that this was business between the clan’s leaders and not for him. He had been shooed out of enough conversations between his grandmother and father to know his place by now.

“Neteyam, take him home please.”

All eyes landed on him. He went to protest, to explain that this was not his place to speak out, but that sentiment didn’t seem to hold true anymore. He did have a role to play in this scene now. He was the Olo’eyktan’s mate, or at least in the eyes of the people he was. Tsahik’s pointed eyes softened upon falling on Neteyam. The slightest jerk of her head and whip of her tail finally gave the omega the encouragement needed to start tugging again.

Another mewl rang through the air.

“Get some rest.” She soothed, placing a hand on the alpha’s shoulder. The muscles of his back tightened visibly. “I will keep you updated on any progress.”

“Kxolo.” He pleaded.

Void of any reaction, the Olo’eyktan’s feet finally began to trudge backwards. Tsahik didn’t wait around to see her orders followed, slipping back past the curtain. The crowd parted for them outside the tent, some curious gazes looking for signs of serious injuries on their Olo’eyktan. Neteyam dared to peek back at the male only to find a stoic expression sunk into place. Eyes dead straight forward, Kxolo maintained a steady pace behind him.

Halfway home Neteyam finally realized that he was holding dead weight in his grip, an unnecessary urging to get his mate home, but he dared not drop it. His smaller fingers held tighter, cherishing their one point of contact. His hindbrain weeped and begged him to snuggle close, to encircle the male in his arms till that shine and affectionate smile would return. Still, all he could bring himself to focus on was making it back to their hut. Back to the place where answers could be received.

That is, if he wanted them.

If he wanted to know what had happened on such a short hunt to reduce his alpha into a shell of what he was that morning. The rays of a proud beaming alpha had dissipated into darkness. Netyam felt his own giddy feelings wash away with every glance he sent back at the stoic man.

Kxolo remained silent as he sat on the woven floor of their home. Although his back was straight as a rod, showing forth the confidence and surety of a true leader, Neteyam couldn’t help but see an invisible deflation. Only the slow occasional blinks over those sunken eyes showed Kxolo was awake.

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

No explanation, no words or traces of comfort.

Neteyam sunk down onto his knees behind him, hands hesitantly placing themselves along those broad shoulders. Blood seeped through the thick bandage upon his left shoulder blade. Neteyam’s fingertips barely grazed the leathery texture of the leaf bandage. Pushing away the tangled braids, the omega fitted his face against the nape of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent.

It was tainted with riddle emotions. Dark edges clouding over the affectionate acceptance of his touch. Neteyam’s nose crinkled before softly resting his chin upon Kxolo’s shoulder. His expression remained stoic.

“What happened?”

No matter how long the silence stretched, Neteyam forced himself to sit into it. His fingers twitched along the smooth skin of his mate’s upper biceps, but he waited patiently for an answer. Solutions were hard to come by without knowing the problem. However, watching the grimace slink across the Olo’eyktan’s face, he had a fair idea of what emotion plagued him.

“A miscalculation.”

His tail lay lifeless across the woven floor. Neteyam’s own followed suit subconsciously. Somehow he managed to piece together an attitude of patience even as questions bombarded and swirled around his every thought. That frazzled energy was concentrated and expressed through simple touches along Kxolo’s shoulders and back. So fragile and light it could’ve been mistaken as a ghostly breeze. He didn’t know if it made any difference for his mate of stone as he drew idle circles along the warm skin, but it made his own heart beat slow down into a peaceful rhythm.

These actions felt familiar, almost practiced, although more times than not it was his alpha creating imaginary drawings along his form instead of the other way around. Nevertheless, his hindbrain purred and settled with every stroke, relaxing into the heat of his skin.

“The angtsik were meant to be at the drinking hole this time of day. The stampede was there and gone within an instant. Got most of the others relatively out of the way. Sian was less lucky.” He spoke as if in a trance, a flash of memory skating along his eyes. Still, he never turned; never let his rigid posture loosen.

Unfortunately it was a countenance that Neteyam not only recognized but knew first hand from himself. The weight of responsibility constantly pressed against his chest. Outcomes and solutions would never erase the horror of knowing that the origin of problems lied with you. That you could’ve stopped a misfortune but now the opportunity was lost.

“It’s not your fault.” Words that had been repeated to him over and over by his sister and grandmother, yet they could never hold the power necessary.

There were no magic phrases or string of poetic lines that could seep into one’s being until it had finally been accepted as truth. Loved ones had tried, reaching out for heart to heart conversations while he sat along the small river; his hideout. He knew then that nothing could be said to erase the blackened mark on his record with every mistake. Some days words of comfort brought forth a tinge of annoyance, as if no one could understand that the damage had been done. Every mistake saddled him with weighted guilt and reminders of his shortcomings.

Now, sitting here on the other side of the glass, Neteyam could finally understand the helplessness that must’ve racked his own family. They were the wrong words, but what more could he say?

“I’m Olo’eyktan. That hunting party was under my care. The People are under my care. My responsibility. My duty.” The tuff of Kxolo’s tail shortly whipped against the floor with a soft puff. The usually perked and attentive ears had nestled back against his skull, hidden partly by his dark hair.

Hair that had lost its shine and neat appearance, decorated braids had wrapped and tangled together into clustered knots. Some had nestled far out of place to the point where Neteyam’s eyes strained to find their origin at the male’s scalp. He wondered what sort of maneuver his mate had performed to put them in such a state. Images of scrambling Na’vi being pulled from the floor by the Olo’eyktan’s strong arms, seconds away from being crushed by the leather skin covered heavy feet flashed to the front of his mind’s eye. Another shot of panic bolted through him at the new onslaught of disturbing images. Although already knowing his state of injury, Neteyam couldn’t help but flash desperate glances along the male’s form in search of further overlooked ailments.

Hysteria was quickly squeezing his lungs together in a tight grip. His calming touches had stopped and Neteyam struggled to get a grip on himself. Now was not the time to panic. His mate was looking forward with a countenance of haunted death and he had not a single word of solace to pull him back. The omega needed an outlet, something that would feel like helping no matter how small the impact.

“Your hair is tangled.” Neteyam whispered in a jumble. He spotted the slightest of nods from the alpha. Another steadying breath filled his lungs, urging his body back into control. The racing of heated blood began to lose speed. “Let me fix it.”

However, it came out as a declaration rather than a seeking of approval. Neteyam crawled along the disastrous mess of their hut and dug through various baskets that had been toppled over in the heat of lust. Eventually he gathered the necessary tools; moisturizing hair oil and a bone toothed comb.

Settling himself back behind Kxolo’s towering frame, Neteyam took the first braid between his fingers. Dark silky hair reflected the shimmer of golden sunlight sneaking through the mouth of their hut. Although stubborn at certain points, the dark locks slowly began to unwind into fallen waves. Neteyam lathered his fingertips in the slick oil and diligently smoothed it through his mate’s hair periodically. Braid by braid, the omega found himself settling into the task.

To his delight, he was not the only one.

Although minimal at first, Kxolo began to preen back against the touch. Rigid shoulders fell away into a relaxed posture. There was gradually a shift in the tension that originally lay between them. The heavy aroma of troubled emotion laced pheromones slowly slipped into something lighter. The thick air of tension and looming images of bloodied bodies had begun to fade away.

Neteyam’s movements grew in confidence, falling into a natural rhythm that could’ve been mistaken as overdone routine. An assortment of feathers and beads pooled around Neteyam’s knees, quickly growing into a small pile with every untangling of a braid.

“Neteyam,” The omega perked up at the splitting of silence. “Tell me something.”

“Like what?”

“Anything.”

Neteyam’s diligence faltered, daring to sneak a peek at the male’s expression.

“I doubt it’d be useful to hear my babbling stories-”

“I like your stories.”

And for the first time since coming across his panic stricken mate, Kxolo peered back at him. Their eyes locked, revealing crystal clear vulnerability underneath that Olo’eyktan facade. A softness that was neither shameful nor hidden from Neteyam’s gaze. The strength and trust required to let oneself be seen as you truly are.

Kxolo was a dominant alpha full of pride and courage. Every decision down to the last of his footsteps was laced with confidence and resolve. He stood by those choices and braced himself for whatever consequences followed. His leadership was humble and focused on those around him, taking on any burden he deemed fit for the good of the People.

Neteyam would be lying if he claimed to not find his character admirable.

However, he had never been more impressed than upon seeing Kxolo sink before him, opening himself up completely before the omega.

If there was ever a chance to exploit his captor’s weakness and plot an escape, it was now.

That thought, however, couldn’t break through the overwhelming warmth that seeped like liquid gold into Neteyam’s chest.

“I remember the first time I saw you.” The confession tumbled out on autopilot, without a warning thought. Kxolo’s ears perked upwards in tandem with a raised hairless eyebrow. It seemed too late to take the words back now that the Olo’eyktan’s attention had been captured. So Neteyam found refuge instead through concentrating on untangling braids and using the thick hair to curtain his rising blush.

“A long time ago when you first visited our clan as Olo’eyktan.” He continued, as if the setting would be enough to satisfy his curious mate. Naturally, a spark of amusement was evident in the male’s expression so he continued.

Neteyam had told himself that he would never tell this story. Not to his family, not to his friends, and especially not to the male himself. So why did the it flow effortlessly from his lips?

“I remember.”

Neteyam could feel his heart in his throat, strangling him from getting out a reasonable reply. The silky strands twirled around his fingers as he sat there motionless.

“No I don’t mean a few months ago-”

“I know. Almost a year ago now since you first spied on me from the trees above.”

Heat rose at a rushing pace to spread across his cheek and neck. Although Kxolo remained facing forwards, Neteyam couldn’t help but hide his heated expression between the Olo’eyktan’s shoulder blades. It felt foolish to be mortified being caught spying on his mate such a long time ago after they have now been so intimate with one another, but regardless, the omega felt as if he could curl up into a ball and die.

“Y-you saw?” Although moments before the alpha’s eyes had been tormented with images of murky death, Neteyam could imagine that signature smirk breaking his composure. Behind his back, the omega was given a moment to breathe, safe from the attentive eyes that diligently followed him to and fro.

However, a part of him itched to take another peek. No matter how embarrassing, it would be a relief to see a glimmer of warmth return to his countenance after such traumatic events. Instead, Neteyam adjusted the leaf bandages in faux concentration.

“Rest assured it was not a lack of agility that gave you away, little one.” Although slightly strained, his timber had soothed back into something familiar for his little mate. Caught between conflicting emotions of embarrassment and relief, Neteyam’s small fingers fumbled with the next braid while trying to clear his thoughts. “Even back then your sweet scent knew how to draw me in.”

Neteyam was starting to regret bringing the subject up in the first place. Nothing could change the fact that his devious spying had been not so secret after all, but that knowledge could’ve been left in the dark, allowing the omega to sleep soundly at night. Allowing him to look the Olo’eyktan in the eyes without becoming bashful.

All this time, the one card Neteyam felt he held close to his chest had been exposed from the beginning.

Their official first meeting when they had been formally introduced, how hard Neteyam had worked to school his features into that of pleasant indifference. The first few weeks they had spent with Neteyam denying his attraction towards the older male with every breath. His insistence of hating Kxolo and yet the Olo’eyktan had known. He had known that from the beginning he had captured Neteyam’s attention. There was always an assurance of interest from the young omega.

“It was more coincidental than intentional actually…”

“Coincidentally following me from your little hideout spots.”

“N-no. By Eywa, you can’t go two seconds without letting your big head get in the way.” Neteyam huffed before tugging on one of the half undone braids. It seemed to jolt a sound of surprise and cut laughter from the alpha. As if to break him out of the dreary moment finally.

Neteyam only wished that the laughter was not at his own expense.

“You knew this whole time and yet you never…” He trailed off into a scoff, but the edges of Kxolo’s lips were already tugging upwards.

“I figured you would be a bit bashful about it.” As Neteyam’s blush deepened he hated to admit how correct his alpha’s perception of him was. “Besides, I enjoyed spotting such a cute little omega peeking down curiously from above. The most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.”

Gulping down harshly, Neteyam felt the memories from that day surge forward. The twisted bundle of nerves that had laced his stomach while following the mysterious alpha had almost been enough to make him trip and lose his cover several times. Growing up to be such a responsible adult, practically a third parent for his siblings, Neteyam knew better than to wander off after strangers, especially ones from other clans. So he had been confused by his own persistence in continuing this pointless pursuit. Several times when his father and other Olo’eyktan had stopped and chatted out of earshot, he had turned back with a disappointed huff, only then to reverse his movements at the first twinkling of movement from the pair.

It had been a tug of war Neteyam was unfamiliar playing with himself. Strong desires and attractions for the complimenting genders was normal, he had fallen prey to his own feelings before during the heat of training and random musing he caught of other alphas bathing in the hot springs near his home. However, he maintained a certain level of self respect in quickly turning away and pushing those feelings deep down in his gut. Following this broad shouldered male, however, had felt completely out of his control.

The scent of pine and rushing stream had infiltrated his focus, luring him forward without a second thought. Although their conversation was hard to depict, he clasped to every rumble of the male’s incoherent voice. It was a ripple that spread over his chest in a deep flush till tickling the tips of his ears.

That night Neteyam had barely made it home before his father, rushing to throw himself into the hammock and feign sleep at the first moment possible. Jake had roused his son gently, laying a tender kiss to the boy’s forehead to his surprise, before ushering Neteyam to join them for dinner. Lo’ak must’ve been bored without Neteyam’s presence because he made the older brother pray for it at dinner. Not a moment of peace seemed to be afforded between Lo’ak’s stories and constant teasing.

Every time he had dazed off to stare into the distance, traces of the male’s slim form caressing his mind, Lo’ak had been quick to jump in and demand the attention of the ‘mighty warrior.’ That night had ended with their parents breaking the two of them up, Neteyam managing to pin his alpha brother down for once. He could still remember the flare of anger and surprise that curled along the younger boy’s expression.

Shame and guilt had lingered longer than night after a stern talk from his father. Still, the focal point of his attention had always been centered on Kxolo. The nameless male had infused his dreams that night, waking him up in a heated sweat enough times to leave the boy drowsy and grumpy the next morning. The memory of that secret encounter had conjured a faux essence of the Olo’eyktan until sleep had finally claimed him once more.

It took weeks to push the experience to the back of his head. He knew better than to lust after a strange alpha, let alone allow the simple experience to interfere with his training and daily duties. At some point dreams had faded and Neteyam had caught a grip of himself. Regardless, he had vowed to never reveal what had occurred.

Now, however, Neteyam was left wondering if that was his biggest mistake of all.

Silence had pulled a taunt tension between them once more. Silky strands of dark hair curled around his fingers till releasing into gentle waves, but the omega could no longer focus on the task without being pulled in another direction. A certain spice had taken over the alpha’s natural perfume, bleeding into the tightening strain along his shoulders and neck. Kxolo propped up one knee, flexed forearm laying over it with a forced appearance of nonchalance.

There were many times that Neteyam had found Kxolo hard to read, difficult to break past the forced impression that the Olo’eyktan was so good at projecting to others. Time had passed since then. It would be impossible to pinpoint when exactly that projection had flitted to dust around Neteyam, but regardless it was gone and the omega felt completely insufficient at handling these unbridled emotions.

Was this how it had felt for Kxolo?

Had he too been letting the true essence of himself slip through, negligent to the promises he had made to himself?

“The impression of you stayed with me for weeks…maybe longer.” Neteyam barely allowed his voice to rise above a whisper, afraid it would crack and let his true weakened composure through.

“And what type of impression did you receive?” Neteyam jumped slightly when the hair slipped from his grasp and golden eyes were trained on him intently. “What did you think?”

Think about how such an ethereal glow from an alpha could exist, pulling him taunt towards his presence insistently? What that roasted amber essence would feel against his nose, tucked into the stranger’s neck safely? How someone could single handedly take a hold of his heart within just one interaction. How hollow his soul had rung, upon lying alone with only the memory to taunt him.

“I thought you were the most handsome male I had ever seen…and also the most intimidating.”

Coward.

Perhaps it wasn’t a lie, but it still would never hold a candle to the truth that remained lodged in his lungs. The charade was up, he had already exposed himself more than he had ever intended, what more would be this last shred of sincerity? The last card he held close to his chest?

Against all reason however, taking that plunge felt like free falling from a cliff, only a promise to blanket that clash that would await him at the bottom.

Neteyam’s blunt nails dug into his soft palms, thoughts swarming into inner turmoil, but Kxolo’s expression had much improved. A soft almost imperceivable chuckle escaped his throat, and his eyes softened into a fond look that Neteyam was ashamed to only know from experience of receiving it and never shooting one back.

“Intimidating, huh?” Kxolo hummed in feigned thought, lips quirking upwards slightly. “I’ll keep that in mind. Perhaps that could come in handy.”

“Not now, you skxawng!” The omega roughly pushed at his shoulders, although the male barely budged, mirth quickly taking over Kxolo’s expression to swallow the last weight of lingering guilt. “That was before I learned about your empty threats.”

“Careful there, little one. I can recall more than enough threats I’ve followed through on. But if you need a refresher…” Kxolo crept closer, larger frame quickly overshadowing Neteyam’s till he was trapped beneath him. The soft waves of Kxolo’s hair curtained around them, blocking out the last of penetrating light and allowing the Tanhi across the alpha’s body to glow in spotted trails along the plains of his smooth skin. Neteyam squeaked and struggled to get away, but even he knew it was only for show. The alpha was completely breathtaking, no longer an Olo’eyktan shining forth. Simply his lover.

His lover.

His love.

taglist: @kayjaydee17 @theunfortunateplace @4ashes-stuff @perfectprofessorloverapricot @creepytoes88 @young5643-blog

103 notes · View notes

norskiesweaters · 7 months ago

Text

Excerpt:

He’d never been one for the process of sleeping. Since childhood, it felt like every atom rebelled against the very concept of stillness, of unknowing. If he slept, he might miss something, and living had been so exciting back in those days. Poor as they were, John knew he had his mother and sister, the tenement wretches he roamed with in feral adventure to look forward to.

If he slept, he might miss adventure. He might lose out on Lilly hitting a milestone, might not catch the latest secrets he stole while hiding in cupboards, trading them as currency with the other boys…

Laughable, that those had been his worries back then. No nightmares haunted him in sleep, none lingered past waking into his daylight hours.

He’d never liked the process of sleeping, but the action of sleep itself became anathema when he was old enough to know what monsters lurked in memories when you couldn’t control the outcome of your own damn brain.

#arthur lester #john malevolent #malevolent podcast #malevolent fanfic #private eyes #parker yang

8 notes · View notes

strawberyblogs · 1 year ago

Text

Genshin Impact Alhaitham x GN! Reader - Love Letters 🍉

Background: Y/N currently resides in the boundaries of Mondstadt. Alhaitham (frequently referred to as Al) is on a lengthy obligation in Sumeru. Although separated by distance, the two lovers communicate through letter.

July 3rd

To my beloved Al,

In these past evenings, I've found myself wandering without your presence; therefore, I decided to write you this epistle. Although I gave you my word that I would obtain ways to keep myself company, these sweltering days make it taxing. A typical day for me doesn't begin till almost an hour before noon. Of course, I awake much before that; however, I am simply enamored with The Pale Princess and the Six Pygmies and spend at least a few hours each day reading and rereading the novel. Do you recall when you first retrieved such a gift for me? Oh, of course not! Do not believe that I doubt your intelligence; it's simply the fact that you gather so many artifacts for me on your various journeys. You must think that these gifts are just silly toys for me; however, each one has its own place on my mantlepiece. Oh dear, I feel that I have gone on and on about only myself. Please realize that it seems as if there's not a molecule in my body not possessed by my longing for you. In my evenings without you, I find my way to Stormbearer Point in remembrance of the times we'd spent there together. But I do admit that during my moments atop that hill, the small of my waist feel rather empty, and my fingers now only may interlock with loneliness. These tepid summer nights feel quite comforting, but they do not replace the warmth your body once exerted against mine. Despite my deep longing for your touch, I must acknowledge that I have been sleeping quite well. I'm quite impressed by my ability to finally put pen to paper; however, this shall conclude my exchange. I feel lethargic and wouldn't want that to diminish the quality of my penmanship. This night shall have the sensation of a thousand without you. It's my greatest wish that you will receive this letter with its dignity preserved and may even find the time to return one to me.

Goodnight to me, good day to you, maybe.

With deepest love and admiration,

~ Y/N

July 14

Y/N,

Please pardon my timely response. I was simply trying to find the time to correctly express my yearning for you. That, combined with the current undertakings I am consumed with, has resulted in this delayed message. Contrary to your concerns, my time has been filled with plenty of proceedings to busy me. As of now, I reside in Sumeru City. Not to boast, but my room is quite spacious. Unfortunately, I'm not able to communicate all the details with you, as confidentiality rules typically go. My location does frequent between Sumeru City and Vanarana. The glowing aura of the Tree of Dreams makes my heart ache for you. I bet your laughter has graced the air as you read about me comparing you to a tree; however, I wish you could see it yourself. It's a bewitching violet and azure tone with dainty leaves emerging from the top. Although it is quite a landmark, its appeal is laughable compared to your glamour. I would give my own soul just to lay my eyes on you for just another moment, if such an exchange could be made. Excuse my dramatics; however, it does feel like my heart is but a thousand tons without your presence. My lips so strongly ache for your gentle kiss that I can't even utter a word. Thankfully, my silence is quite useful for a moment such as now. Even with such a bustling scene in Sumeru City, I still do feel as lonesome as you. It's quiet moments like these where I truly realize how much of my body you fill with your light. It feels like such an injustice that I have been savagely torn away from you due to my work. Why I have half a mind to run away to somewhere far away with your fingers intertwined in mine. Liyue maybe? Ah, but with the reputation my name and face carry, such fantasies would be impossible. My dear, please know that before the leaves fall, your touch will again meet mine. Love is not a worthy word to describe my feelings for you. The sensation in my breast when I think of you is simply indescribable. Continue to share your days with me through letter. We must remember that distance is but a miniature obstacle.

Goodbye,

~ Alhaitham

If it's unclear, these are just short exchanges between Y/N and Alhaitham through letter.

If you made it to the end, I thank you immensely! I hope this all made some sense and anything you have questions about, leave a comment or inbox me! If you enjoyed this writing, please like and/or reblog! And as always, PLEASE send in requests! Thanks again for reading!!

-🍓

#fanfic #fanfiction #headcanon #writing #ao3 #anime #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham #al haitham #al haitam x reader

22 notes · View notes

mskwtz · 7 months ago

Text

@moonlitkata ➝ ♡

he hadn't slept well. fuck, had any of them ? eli didn't know how anyone could after the events of the past few days. the chaos of it all was one thing; the adrenaline rush of an all-out brawl they were used to. they'd been part of plenty over the past 3 years, crazy as that would have sounded to someone on the outside looking in. this was different. watching someone die in front of you was JARRING. someone their age who had so much life still ahead of him. it didn't matter how any of them felt about him - it was tragic & it was horrifying. they'd had to send everyone home, probably in so much shit for the fight breaking out and the continuous televising of the chaos right up until it happened. eli didn't even know if they'd ever continue the tournament. MAYBE THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN FOR THE BEST. they'd gotten on a flight early that morning, & the idea of getting any sort of shut eye for that nearly 14 hour trip was laughable. every time he closed his eyes he saw blood and all he could think about were those agonizing screams. that shit was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. no, he couldn't wait to be home. it didn't matter that they hadn't finished what they started, it didn't matter that time was running out on their time together as a group, and it didn't matter that things felt incomplete. none of it mattered anymore. all he wanted was to see his girlfriend & hug her tight because life was clearly way too fucking short to not make the most of every second.

it was with a shaky hand that he rubbed his face, an exhausted sigh passing from his lips as he grabbed his bags from the luggage claim. he couldn't seem to get them to stop, the trembling present since everything happened. for what felt like the hundredth time, his free hand curled into fists in an attempt to get it to stop. he turned on his heel, heading for the entrance so he could get home and try to get some rest before going to see moon. he should have known better. his girl wasn't the type to wait around, especially not when she knew he needed her, and definitely not when she had seen the same thing they all had from her television at home. he stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of her, and without second thought his bags were dropped as he ran to embrace her. his arms wound tight around her, face buried in her hair, tears blurring his vision & threatening to fall. ❛ you beat me to it, ❜ he mumbled, lips brushing against the side of her head. ❛ i'm so glad you're here. ❜

#moonlitkata #moonlitkata. moon #v.ck6 #ck6b spoilers #death tw #blood mention tw #i'm fine leave me alone #i just think comfort

3 notes · View notes

endlessreruns · 1 year ago

Text

Name: Jasper Rhys Larkin

NickNames: J, Jas, Jasp, Larkin

Face Claim: Aneurin Barnard

Age: 30

Gender/Pronouns: cis man ; he/him

Orientation: queer

Town Resident

Neither Hunter or Gatherer

Occupation: Unemployed, but sometimes assists vendors at the trading post

Languages Spoken: Welsh and English

------

Jasper was born Jasper Rhys in Cardiff to a family of wealth and fame. His father came from a family of actors and his mother was an author who had been on best seller lists and had her works adapted to both the big and small screens. The two were always so caught up in their work and everything surrounding it, that they had little to no time left for their son. His father was often out of the country filming, and his mother would lock herself away for hours or even days on end when writing. More often than not these two things overlapped with each other. He would try things here and there to get there attention, often acting out, but them and by extension he, went largely unnoticed.

When he was 12 his father got the opportunity of a lifetime. A starring role in a major movie franchise. The only thing is it would have the family packing up and moving to Los Angeles for the next couple of years. After the move things just continued to get worse in regards to the amount of neglect Jasper felt from his parents. Now not only was there they're actual work, but parties and other events that they were often going to that he couldn't attend and be part of. This caused him to start trying to act out even more, though still to no avail.

At 14, over the winter break at school, Jasper stole a fairly good amount of his parents money, and used a credit card to book a first class flight to New York City. They might not have paid attention to him, but he was certain they would pay attention to their money being gone, and would come after him. It wasn't like he'd kept it some mystery where he'd run away to.

He paid to stay in youth hostels, opting for the more expensive option of getting a room and bathroom to himself, saw multiple shows on Broadway, ate at some of the best places that would let him in, bought new clothes, and so on. It was all a bunch of frivolous spending because at the end of the day he was still expecting for his parents to come after him and bring him home.

A full month passed and still nothing. Then another. Jasper hadn't expected to be gone this long, and while he'd started with a decent sum of money, it had started to get less and less. One night he got back to the hostel and found his room had been broken into. A number of his things had been stolen, including his laptop, the phone he'd had left on the charger, and a good amount of his clothes, and most importantly the rest of the money that he'd had stashed away.

Outside of the clothes on his back, the money in his pocket, and a few left items that he could stuff in a bag Jasper had been left with nothing. Still no one had come looking for him. Had they really not noticed or had they just not cared? Glad to no longer be burdened by a child neither of them probably never even wanted in the first place.

Jasper used what money he had left to stay at the hostel for a little longer, moving from the single bedroom to one of the shared dormitory style ones and the communal bathroom. Once that was no longer an option he tried to exchange labor for board, but the manager cited something about child labor laws. The way that was a concern and not a soon to be homeless teenager was almost laughable.

Then Jasper had no where to go and no way to contact anyone. He was stuck nearly three thousand miles from the home he'd been in for two years and a whole ocean away from the one he had still longed to go back to. Maybe he should have just flown there instead.

It was at 15 when Jasper was found by a woman on a weekend trip to visit an old friend that was living in the city. Having followed him to check that he was okay after witnessing him getting throw out of and wailed on by someone working in a store after catching him shoplifting some new shoes.

The woman brought Jasper back home with her, introducing him to her husband and son, Montgomery (Monty), and bringing him into the Larkin family. In mere months they became more of a family than Jasper had ever had before. He had parents that cared about him, and took actual interest in him, and a little brother.

The first wave of the paradox hit when Jasper was 18. His parents shoved him and his brother into the basement, locking them inside. The sounds that followed Jasper will never get out of his head. Listening as his parents were ripped open, holding his brother's hands over his ears with his own to block out as much of the sound for him as he could. The two were in such shock after that they fell quiet enough that the monsters moved on.

From the night after until the sigil was discovered Jasper would lock him and Monty in the basement together. Letting his brother sleep through the night while he stayed up, eyes fixed on the door and a weapon of some sort in hand or close enough to grab.

While there had been signs of Jasper's OCD going back to when he was a child, things were just dialed up to the max after the paradox. Doing things like constantly obsessing over making sure his brother was home before dark, not wanting him to stay over at anyone's house where he couldn't physically see that he was safe. Repeatedly carving the sigil into every room with a door in their home, and including the front and back doors. Both on and above the door as well as on both sides. His parents no longer there to help him with the process of determining what things he really needed to keep and which ones he could get rid of greatly affecting him as well. The intrusive thoughts of if he didn't keep something, pray in a correct way, etc that something bad was going to happen to his brother, his friends, and the town getting louder and louder and more and more frequent. In addition Jasper's intermittent insomnia worsened as well, and to this day Jasper is never sure when the last time he slept actually was.

This has only increased over the years, and especially within the last one as more and more stuff as occurred and people have started dying more frequently again. Jasper currently doesn't have a job, unable to hold one down due to all his issues. However, he does sometimes help different people who have stands at the Trading Post. Sometimes in exchange for some of the ration cards earned that day or for some goods that didn't sell at the stand that day.

---

Jasper has several pairs of over the ear headphones, most of these no longer properly work and have had the cords cut from them. They work as a way to suppress noise and to calm him down when he's become too overwhelmed by external stimulations or is needing to be forced to focus. He usually carries one with him at all times, either around his neck or in a bag.

#huntsvilleintro #intro: jasper

3 notes · View notes

sasuhinasno1fan · 2 years ago

Text

Wish come true - Adrien AUGreste Day 14+15

A bit late, but I was smart in asking EtherealGenie for help betaing, so there shouldn't be any spelling errors, at least not before the social media part, that I just added, so that was up to my spellcheck so fingers crossed. Also, it would actually take 6 hours for them to get to Saint Vincent Beach from Paris but for the sake of the story, we’re gonna say it takes less time. Anyway, enjoy! Passion

“No! Let me go, you can’t do this! I’m your daughter! I’m Lila Agreste!”

“Honestly Gabriel, you should have nipped this in the bud earlier. It’ll be difficult, but she’ll be disciplined and a different child by the time she comes home for break.” Tomoe said as they watched Gorilla carry the squirming girl to the red car. “My family will keep you updated. It’s laughable, how she doesn’t seem to realize how a name can’t get you far. You have to work for the respect you want.”

The designer could feel the judgment from the famed fencer. He still couldn’t understand how his daughter turned out like this. He thought back and realized times where she was caught, usually by her mother. Eventually she just got better at not getting caught and because he was so preoccupied with work or Emile’s health, he didn’t notice. Then she wanted to go to school and try her luck out there. She was quickly found out but it didn’t stop her. She kept trying to gain some attention, like something was supposed to change and nothing. And now it left her as this, a known bully who attacked a student with no motive. It took all his skills to keep the Rossi’s from suing, from having Lila removed to paying the hospital bills, and sending a check that was near 1 million euro. If he wanted any chance at saving his business, getting a new face for the company was critical. There were only so much his apologies could do. Honestly, after he got the Miraculous and got Emilie back, the business wouldn’t matter but until then, he had to focus on this, even if it meant turning his back on his daughter.

“I’ll fly with her to Japan and make sure she’s dropped off. Our security is going to meet us at the airport so your guard can stay here.” Good, Gorilla was not made for flying. “I should hope when I return that our business dealings won’t be putting my family at risk anymore.”

“Of course. Thank you again for doing this.”

Tomoe hummed before heading to the car, climbing into the passenger seat. Lila was still protesting as the car drove off.

“Master?” Nooroo asked once Gorilla had gone back inside leaving him and Nathalie on the front steps.

“Would I really not have been able to control her as an akuma? She would have been perfect.”

“But she wouldn’t want to give the wish over, even if she did know. She would be selfish. Even if she would have been your most useful or most powerful, she would have been the one you could never control.”

“Not to mention she still wouldn’t admit she stole the Peacock Miraculous.” Nathalie said.

“She didn’t have it. I couldn’t find it in any of her stuff. She might have given it away to keep it from you.” Nooroo said.

“To who? No one liked her.”

“Maybe she slipped it into a classmate’s bag. Unless Duusu came out, they wouldn’t know what it is.”

Gabriel thought of where Lila could have slipped it. one seemed the most obvious. “She must have slipped it into Rossi’s bag.”

“A-Adrien? M-Master, you can’t actually think…?”

“It makes the most sense.” Nathalie said. “She hated him and was constantly trying to get him into trouble. She left the book in the garden, no doubt because it was too big to hide away, the Peacock wasn’t. And it’s the one you want back the most. To hide it with someone who would be in bigger trouble than she’d been in would be the perfect place.”

“Um, uh, Master, I don’t think…you can’t go near him now.” Nooroo stuttered out. “Lila hurt him and his parents, they don’t want you around him. Even if he does have it, I’m sure he would have mentioned it.”

“He’s popular on Instagram, isn’t he?”

“His personal account is private, but he has a cosplay and food blog one.”

“Keep an eye on them. It might turn up.”

“But he might not even have it.” Nooroo said.

“Where else could it be? Do you know?” he ordered.

Nooroo stiffened as his ability to follow orders was triggered. “I don’t know.”

“Then we keep an eye on him. Now, what about Juleka’s contract?” he asked, heading back inside.

“Her mother has been going over it. Sir, she’s been checking everything from pay, to breaks, making sure it doesn’t interfere with her schooling and also making sure she isn’t working over a certain number of hours. You have to admit, the original contract violated a few child labour laws and she’s been spotting them like it’s nothing. In fact, she’s figured out how to get her daughter paid more.”

“Her mother? I suppose getting in trouble with the police makes it their job to drop by.”

“Actually sir…she graduated from law school.” At Gabriel’s stunned look, she continued, “Top of her class, was given the most offers after graduating but she didn’t accept any of them. Students in her class knew she had a deal with her parents to go to law school and she was allowed to do whatever she wanted after. Became a guitar player for Jagged Stone early in his career, got certified to be a ship captain, worked as a captain on a yacht for a while before becoming a freelance captain and had two kids. She knows how to get away with things because she knows the law. She’s making sure Juleka gets whatever she wants and that we legally have to give her.”

Gabriel sighed, looking to the ceiling. “The messes never end. Take care of it. If I want to fix this company, I need her.”

_____________

Adrien watched his boyfriend and Rose go over lyrics. The two were focused, Luka coming up with a melody that fit the words Rose came up with. He felt like he was watching Marc and Nath work on the newest issue. The couple had a rough start as comic partners, even after the effort of stopping Marinette from going with her idea and acting as a middle man until Marc felt confident enough, but now they were a well-oiled machine, with Nath talking Marc through his drawings and then listening intently to the script Marc came up with from that. He looked over at Marinette who was using Juleka as a model for new outfits for Kitty Section. She worked tirelessly with ease, attaching the pieces until they became a cohesive look. She was the same when sketching designs, rarely able to be disturbed. Even Ivan has his private passion with poetry. He wasn’t attempting to sing it anymore, but Mylene swore that his words had a deep meaning. He seemed calmer working on it, even when Mylene wasn’t there to read his work after. Watching everyone work on something they were passionate about made Adrien realise something. He hadn’t been doing that. Food blogging was easy but getting lost and exploring and even cosplaying had taken a back seat. He hadn’t actually worked on anything since his Queen Serenity cosplay and the feather disaster. He had a few that he wanted to work on but another thing he realized was he was bored of doing it on his own. Sometimes he was able to get his mom involved and his dad loved doing it but he had to rush off after staying in Paris while he recovered from his concussion. Very few times had he gotten friends involved. For the most part now, Nino took his photos and Marinette helped him with the more difficult outfit builds, and of course Max helped with any tech stuff like the wings. He even brightened at the challenge of making a bow and arrow for his BOTW Link, lights and all.

He wanted to do a simple cosplay and just get lost to find a place for pictures. But with his mom busy with her own job, it wasn’t like they could take a train and be back before her next meeting. He could do it by himself, but it was so much more fun getting lost with someone.

“You ok?” noticing Luka was standing in front of him, he looked and realized the others were setting up to start practicing, though Marinette was taking the time to fit everyone into their costumes in case of issues.

“Yeah, just…seeing everyone so focused on working on their favourite thing I realized I haven't been able to cosplay in a while. I just want to get lost and take pictures and fall in love with it all over again.”

“Who would you be?”

“I don’t know. I have a few thoughts but I kinda want to do a pair cosplay. Getting lost with someone is so much more fun than going by yourself.”

“Guys!”

“Let me know a few of your choices after practise, ok?” Luka asked, leaving Adrien slightly confused. Why did he want to know that?

Practice ended with them going to Marinette’s to get the last pick of the day – and get extras – before Luka walked him home. They did stop by Andre’s ice cream cart to people watch.

“So, couples cosplays. What were your choices?”

“Couple?” Adrien looked at Luka. “Where did this come from?”

“I don’t actually think I’ve seen you in cosplay, I always see the pictures after. With everything you dealt with, with Lila, you kinda deserve to get lost. Maman has so many offers to borrow a vacation house out near the Rivera. So why not take a train and get lost?”

“I don’t think our mothers will be ok with us staying the night by ourselves.” Adrien felt like pointing out, if only to distract himself. He wasn’t upset with the suggestion, not at all. He just wasn’t expecting it.

“So, we go there to change into costume and back before we head home. Look, I’ve had those times where I feel like life is pulling me away from the thing, I’m passionate the most and having the time to do those things make your life so much better and less stressful. You’ve been through a lot recently and I want to do something to help you feel better. So, what couples cosplay do you want to do?”

“You’d really do that for me?” Adrien asked. He couldn’t remember any relationship where his partner wanted to participate.

“Yes, so come on.”

“Well, it’s a tossup between Ikuto and Amu and any of the main Mermaid Melody girls and their boyfriends. You know, with your hair, you’d do a pretty good Hanon, even though your personality is a bit more like Lina’s boyfriend.”

“Think we could do two outfits?”

How did he end up with this guy? Seriously, how was he real.

“If it’s closet cosplay, sure. I really wanna dress you up as an idol though. How do you feel about ruffles? And hair pins? Can I please put hair pins in your hair? Oh wait, I need to get you to listen to all the songs, even the openings and closings, I think you might like them. Is this, ok?”

Luka couldn’t help but laugh at him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you this excited in a while. You’re cute. I’m up for whatever, promise.”

Adrien couldn’t help but bounce a little. “You’re going to be the best mermaid prince idol ever. We need to stop at the cosmetic store. Hanon’s boyfriend has blue hair. I need to get temporary spray.”

“I think you’d rock blue hair.”

“In case I forget to in my excitement, thank you. really, you could have just come with me, but I’m glad you're interested in trying. I promise, I’ll make the experience awesome.”

“I can’t wait.”

_________________

@lukarockstar

A story with a selfie of Adrien and Luka, sitting in train seats. A typewriter font in the corner with ‘Heading out for shoot day!’

Another story, a video focused on Adrien sewing the last of the light blue ruffles to the cuff of a sky-blue tailcoat. ‘Look at him go’ is cantered at the bottom of the video in the same font.

@adrigatto

A post with a picture of Luka, headphones on, focused on his phone propped up by a pop socket on the table. ‘@rosieheart, I think I got @lukarockstar hooked! He’s halfway through and calling Kaito stupid for not realizing.’

Another post with several pictures and a video. The video is from Adrien’s point of view as he follows Luka off the train, panning to take in the people exiting with them and heading for the station's exit. The next is a picture of the ocean and the one after that is a selfie of Adrien and Luka, Luka’s arms wrapped around Adrien who’s holding the phone. ‘@lukarockstar and I have arrived for our Hanon and Nagisa shoot!’

@lukarockstar

A reel with Luka filming himself. With his other hand he’s holding a piece of bread. “Just a piece of advice if you ever go to a new restaurant with Adrien. If they offer to bring chips or anything like that to the table, tell them to bring it with your orders, or else you have to watch this and starve.” Luka flips the camera to focus on Adrien, who’s standing and taking overhead shots of their food. Seeing his boyfriend filming, he refocuses with a smile on his face. “Leave me alone.” the camera flips back to Luka. “You’ll be happier, trust me.”

A post with pictures of Adrien opening the door to their temporary accommodation, a small Disney princess trunk themed carry on standing next to him, the cosplays hanging up on the door and a mirror selfie of Luka as Adrien does his makeup.

A story of a reposted TikTok with Luka and Adrien, Adrien leaning on Luka with his hands on his shoulder while Luka films. He shakes his phone and when the picture settles, they’re in costume, still in the same pose. Luka has star hairpins clipped into his bangs and the sky-blue tailcoat with ruffled cuffs match the pale blue shirt and white cravat which has a Shell Locket pinned to it. Adrien’s hair is now a pale blue, not true to Nagisa’s near black hair, but in a long sleeved white striped shirt and black short sleeved shirt over it and grey eyes.

@scarcatblog

A blurry picture of the Parisan skyline with a spot of red and black in the distance. ‘Spotted today was a new spotted hero with Catseye. Caught name was Ladybird, blonde hair and spandex suit. Witnesses claim this isn’t her first time out on the streets but second, but where has Scarlet Bug gone?’

@gattocosplay

A post with pictures, first with Luka on a dock. You could see his whole outfit now, including the dark blue bow attached to the tailcoat and the white slacks tucked into pale blue Doc Martens. An E-Pitch microphone is in hand as well. The first 3 photos are of Luka on the dock, either looking at the camera or of a profile of him. The next two are of him and Adrien by a rock wall. First is Luka sitting on it, looking down at Adrien who stood staring up at him between his legs. The next is Adrien dipping Luka as the two stare at each other. The one after that is on the sand, both holding ice creams, which are pressed against each other as the two share a kiss. The last two are close ups, one with Luka pressing a kiss to Adrien’s cheek and the last of them sharing the microphone, as if singing together. There’s a video at the end of Adrien and Luka by the rock wall. Adrien is trying to dip Luka, but Luka leans back too far and both go falling to the sandy ground, laughing when their attempts to stop fail. ‘Our Mermaid Melody shoot was a success! This was @lukarockstar ‘s first time cosplaying and I think we can agree he did amazing. Close up shots of the finished cosplay and more pictures and BTS coming soon!’

@hungrygatto

Pictures of their food from La Treille Tapas and a perfect shot of the ice cream used in the shoot, and a selfie of Luka and Adrien eating their ice cream. ‘A trip to Saint Vincent Beach means food fit for the seaside. Shared a traditional plate with jamon, cheeses and pain con tomate and 2 drinks. Altogether, no more than 25 euro. The ice cream was from a nearby passing cart, 3 euro each. I got passion fruit and @lukarockstar got mint chocolate chip. Very good, but melts very quickly. Already want to come back for a deeper dive.’

@lukarockstar

Story with a picture of Adrien, back on the train, asleep on Luka’s lap. The added gif of a cat sleeping tells all it needs. The next picture of the story is of Adrien as Nagisa sitting on the stairs, looking off camera. ‘He’s amazing’ is written in the corner in the same typewriter font.

#adrien august #Adrien AUGreste 2023

6 notes · View notes

kari-izumi · 10 months ago

Text

Tags from @ffcrazy15 :

Using myself as an example, I grew up in Northern California. My mom didn't have a license until I was five and moved from the SF Bay Area where we have one of the country's better public transportation systems between Muni, BART and the AC Transit where most buses come once every 10 to 12 minutes, which in the US is virtually unheard of outside of New York.

Eventually we moved a hour away to a suburb where the six buses ran every hour and we often had to walk home with groceries, but at least we had sidewalks to walk on and in inclement weather, we could get taxis easily (and despite the population explosion in that particular city, the bus system is still ass thirty years later but I ain't getting into that 🙃).

And the big thing--grocery stores existed in my neighborhood.

Fast forward to a military assignment I had in Louisiana in 2013-14, where Google Maps' instructions to get to a particular place I wanted to go to in downtown NOLA included a ten minute car ride from the shipyard to the nearest bus stop. 🫠 Cabs would not come out to where we were because Avondale as a city was rather impoverished and all the money could be made in the French Quarter. Not even us pulling the military card worked.

And then there's the sidewalk situation: for all practical purposes, they may as well not exist in an area that's a foot below sea level. The hotel they had us in was also a long US 90, which was a huge ass stroad with no pedestrian pathways across the street to the Wendys or Popeyes or the Dollar Tree that was there, so good luck & may the odds be ever in your favor there.

Also worth pointing out that the one grocery store that was in walking distance of that Extended Stay hotel (which I'm 90 percent certain was a Winn-Dixie) appears to have closed in the last ten years, which has probable made the food desert situation even worse.

I definitely grew up poor, but the poverty I faced in a blue state like California was nothing at all like it is in the South or the Appalachian Mountains or in an area where there's substantial snow in winter like there is where I currently live (ie in Reno, where what they consider the poverty line is laughable). Not all states have the same resources. And leftists who won the birth lottery to live in California or NYC or the PNW would be wise to extend grace to the people who didn't get so lucky.

like you really aren't allowed to say shit about southerners until you have firsthand seen how people live deep in the appalachian hollers because it is fucking tragic. the poverty and the food desert and the lack of resources in general is so bad. the drugs. yall dont understand

#long post is long #wealth inequality #great add

39K notes · View notes

writesaboutdragons · 5 months ago

Text

365 Proverbs for Daily Living

Day 20 – The End of the Seductive Path

Entering her house leads to death; it is the road to the grave. (Pro 2:18 NLT)

Read: 2 Samuel 12:1-14

Many years ago, a local interchange onto the expressway was simplified, removing left turn on-ramps, and providing only right-turn access to the interstate. This was about the time we started using Google Maps and Apple Maps to navigate us wherever we went. It became a family joke whenever we approached this intersection, because the audible map service, for years, directed us to go the wrong way. Of course, being locals, we knew better, and ignored the voice until we were on the expressway, and the map service had recalculated our route.

But those misdirections from GPS aren’t always laughable. On November 25, 2024, three men were traveling in India late at night through Khallpur, on their way to a wedding, when apparently Google Maps led them across the Ramganga River on an incomplete bridge. No barricades blocked their way, and the taxi went off the end, plunging fifty feet into the river. All of them perished. The bridge had been washed away during a recent flood, and though repairs had been under way, they were nowhere near complete. It was a tragedy caused by a combination of the lack of warning signs, low visibility at night, and the fact that Google Maps had not received critical updates to this area of its mapping service since the bridge was washed out.

Over the last 30 years, GPS has become ubiquitous, and most people depend on it to direct them to and fro. Unfortunately, there have been several cases where people have died via GPS. There are warnings in the Terms and Conditions of both Apple Maps and Google Maps that you are assuming the risk by using their navigation service, and they aren’t liable for death or damage when the service is unavailable, incomplete, or inaccurate.

Just like the world has come to depend heavily on GPS to direct their paths, we’ve come to allow the world to direct our moral compass, too. Our pastor recently shared a clip from the 2018 movie, The Power of the Air, where an African missionary shares with a local pastor in the United States how he feels the church would react if the missionary preached that Sunday, and halfway through the sermon, cursed Jesus. And then a little later, cursed him again. And later in his message, he invited a young couple onstage with him, to begin kissing and taking their clothes off.

He asks the question, how would his church react? Of course, they would run him off the stage and forbid him from preaching there again. Yet 12 hours earlier, many of the congregation were watching just such a presentation in a movie theater. This immediately took me back in time, to when I was just about to enter college, and the movie, Romancing the Stone came out.

I went to see that movie alone, a young man still trying to get his hormones under control. The movie was rated PG, so it was certainly safe for me to see. I loved the action, the acting of Michael Douglas, Danny DeVito, and Kathleen Turner. It showed a bit more skin than I was used to, which probably contributed heavily to the draw. Ticket prices were about $5, and I saw that movie 21 times, going with various friends or even alone.

I was set to watch it a 22nd time, inviting a good friend to go with me, in front of his dad, who was a pastor. His dad frowned. “I wouldn’t go see that movie.” I considered him a solid Christian, but I hadn’t found anything objectionable and besides, it was rated PG, so it was safe. He stared at me with his head tilted to the side, and said, “They take the Lord’s name in vain 27 times in that movie.”

I was shocked. I hadn’t remembered that at all. So I went to watch it again, ready to enjoy it again just like before. But this time, I noticed every single time they used GD. I started counting. Every time I heard it, I felt sicker at my stomach, until I felt like throwing up. Halfway through the movie, I just got up and walked out, soberly considering what I’d been eating. Not through the mouth, but through the eyes and ears.

This world has steadily desensitized us to the content we watch. We’ve been told that sexual sins, perversions, and sexual freedoms are normal. And because our flesh pulls us in that direction anyway, we’ve bought into it, giving up ground our forebears fought valiantly to maintain. However, while our moral compasses seem to indicate that left of center is center, the Bible is unchanging, and has always been an accurate guide. It warns us where the bridges are out. It tells us where we should not travel. It alerts us that death is waiting, and hell beyond it, and that the unwise will stumble into trouble. Here in Proverbs, it gives us clear direction not to travel this lascivious path. That the perversions and sexual freedoms we’ve taken for granted are a highway to death. And as I stated yesterday, we are all in danger here, and all need to take heed. Even David, who was clearly called a ‘man after God’s own heart’, fell to adultery with Bathsheba, because he was in the wrong place, looking in the wrong direction, stared at another man’s wife, and then forced her. He couldn’t hide it through subterfuge. He couldn’t bury it through murder. He couldn’t legitimize his sin through marriage. It wasn’t until Nathan confronted him, and he confessed and repented, that things looked up. And there were still deadly consequences that bridged several generations. Look, dear Christian. God knows our flesh, that we are weak. But that’s why we have this book of Wisdom, and why we are unpacking a Heart of Wisdom, together.

Prayer:

Lord, help me to have a Heart of Wisdom, today. Amen

#christian #devotional #365 devos #chrumblr #Romancing the stone #wisdom

0 notes

mcbex · 1 year ago

Text

*Nature vs Nurture *

Before the sun came up this morning, I saw its warm rays streaming across the sky. It hit the clouds and it seemed as if it was fire. The hue of orange and gold were magic to my eyes and full of hope. I stopped to take a picture from the end of my driveway. Then I spoke aloud to the sunrise to feel a connection to the morning wonder. I said “I can’t see you but I know a new day is here, you always show up right on time.“ instantly I am confronted with Gods love and plans and constant security. Realizing the gift of today I began to pray for the second time today.

Lately I've been feeling the relentless tug of life. It seems as though the under current of turbulence is just satans way of keeping me busy and unfocused. Maybe it's me trying to shove too much into my human days in want of making the most of all of it. But I know that's not complete truth because I am protective of my time. I'm protective of my journey but searching for the road is long and at times misleading.

Listening to a pod cast tonight the speaker says (paraphrasing) that sometimes miracles get in the way of the message, and when we focus on miracles we miss the message God is trying to convey. This too hits a little too close to home on my quest for enlightenment. How many times have I come home boggled from the day, straining to get closure on the world where I had spent hours bracing my innocence. How many times have I gotten up in the morning and prayed that this day I would be able to handle everything thrown at me. How many times have I driven this road asking for answers, seeking Gods voice and looking for signs. It's the signs that sneak in and lead us a stray, because however beautiful they are God doesn't speak in signs or wonders. He speaks in action, whisper and occasionally He heals someone, but I think His motives are mostly for other reasons in that case. For whatever it's worth He doesn't make us wonder, He is clear. We wonder because we oppose the answers He shares with us. We question because we laughably believe that surely our take on the circumstance must be the right way.

Ashamed of it as I may be, I've dabbled with numerology, used ouija board and I'm sure I've seen a palm reader at least once in my life. These may offer some kind of peak but it negates who is speaking. You have to wonder WHO really is speaking and why am I listening to anything other than the word of God that has never led me astray.

Coming home the sun is down and the scene is different. It's dark again when I arrive, as winter still lay quietly on my town like a sleepy blanket. The headlights illuminating the road offer me focus and remind me of the laser like path each of us has carved out. With this thought I feel more centered than I have in a long time. Because once again I recognize that the devil will use anyone or anything to peel away our faith and chip away at the security we wrap around ourselves. I find his antics annoying, boring and sophomoric yet they still trip me up. Probably because the low tech design of his plight is almost undetectable until you find yourself trapped in his web of confusion.

Moving forward I will feel the emotion of the sunrise, sunset and all the beauty he allows for me to see but I will not look to them to remind me of anything other than a gift. A gift of life and of death. A gift that comes in both pretty packages as well as newspaper. I will remember to ask myself, who am I speaking to, why am I asking and where is the reply coming from? The forthright voice of God leads, and I will follow it alone for He is constant. He is love. He is my father and he knows the way.

Psalm 25:4 Show me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths.

Jeremiah29; 11- 14 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity.

#godthoughts

0 notes

dzpenumbra · 2 years ago

Text

7/21/23

Oh man, doing yoga before this at 3AM after not getting a ton of sleep is like drinking half a bottle of Nyquil, holy shit. XD A slight bit of tension left over in my lower back - like where it's hinting that it could cramp up, that feeling... - is the only feeling of unease I have right now, which is very welcome. I might reconsider starting my day with yoga... or better yet... put a bit less importance on doing a vigorous routine at the start of my day and focus on taking some time to get out of my head before bed instead. Or do yoga twice a day, that could work. Focus less on like... "doing it for x amount of time"... and more on just getting to that desired place of quiet and ease.

I hope to graduate to that at some point, which is really just a matter of trying. That being... doing yoga without instruction. Just listening to what my body is asking for and doing it that way.

I've also been planning for a couple days now... I guess I'll set this up with some context. In Way of the Peaceful Warrior, there was a part where the main character and his guru take a few hours together to give themselves a deep tissue massage, to find points of unconscious muscle tension and release it. Which I'm sure the puritanical closeted perverts of American corpo-Christian society would consider laughably homoerotic... for some reason... Two grown men massaging themselves in a gas station. "Yeah... right..." And you know what? Maybe my sex drive is diminished compared to the average citizen to the point where I don't immediately jump to that awkward conclusion... maybe not? Maybe it's just kept within reasonable control and restricted to emotionally and consciously responsible areas. Maybe my sexuality is just an aspect of me, rather than a wild animal that points me around telling me where to go and what to do. I don't know. That's a complex nut to crack. But at the end of the day, good lord, nothing sounds more relieving and relaxing than to take a day and massage the fuck out of my muscles. And maybe someday have someone I trust to be able to help me with areas that I would struggle to reach myself, as much as possible with my PTSD trust issues and shit.

That's a long-winded way of explaining that I have had a life-long problem of storing extreme tension in my body. This is to the point where I had to get physical therapy for soccer in my early teens, like... 14... And the physical therapist was fucking shocked, he said my ITBs were like steel cables. Guess what? They still are.

The book was stating some stuff about like... how with involuntary muscle contraction like that... especially with deep muscles and everything... you really just need to get in there and work out the kinks. You need to actively stimulate the muscles to get them to let go and re-learn how to properly function. And this form of self-care would do wonders for my wellbeing. I bet I would sleep much better. I bet my back would do much better. I bet my hips and my posture would do much better. So yeah, I'm planning on taking an evening coming up and just putting on an audiobook or something and just going from the feet up, working every single muscle I can reach for hours. I'd say that's worth dedicating an evening to.

Getting to the core of the day... I had therapy today. It was... relieving. It was odd at first because... my voice was shot again. This time, noticeably for me. I found myself instinctually half-whispering, and having to force myself to raise my voice. And my voicebox still feels a bit sore now after an hour of talking. It's absolutely insane how quickly that happened.

I was finally able to get perspective from another human on the whole... run-in with the guy on the way back from the skatepark. He... did something unexpected. He complimented me on how I handled the situation. He said it sounded like it was actually a nice situation, and I commented that like... yeah... that guy probably doesn't get to talk to a lot of people outside of the drug world, because people likely keep a wide berth. And... my therapist also mentioned that it's important to keep in mind that you don't know exactly what someone else's struggle may be, so there might be mental health issues there too, you know? And he said it sounded like I was very kind and generous and I reacted appropriately. And that affirmation meant a lot to me. It helped me a lot in finding closure on that. As much as I can comfortably find right now. I still feel that shadow of "unsafety" surrounding it.

I also brought up this trouble that I have in letting go of things, and he got super excited when I asked this question. "What's the difference between denial... and letting go of thoughts/feelings?" And I'm gonna be honest, I'm still struggling to process it even after he answered me. And I know it's not the first time I've asked. But despite the fact that I don't really... fully know the difference... I mean, okay... I can speculate a bit here and explore. I think the difference is... acknowledgement. I remember having an "ah-ha" moment there when he was saying that. Like... people who are in denial won't even remotely acknowledge a thought or feeling as even being real. They will completely dismiss it out-of-hand. Which... would clearly explain my problem with smoking weed, and anxiety, and all that. I am too open-minded and imaginative. I will entertain any thought and find meaning in it, I guess that's probably in big part due to my whole obsession with stream-of-consciousness.

Let's use an analogy here. Here's a fun one. Tarot. Or astrology. Right? So... you know the type... Who hear the word "tarot" or "astrology" and immediately go "I don't believe in that" and scoff excessively loud. And, weirdly enough, won't even be in the same room as it? ... Which is odd, honestly... Like... I mean, you can treat tarot like a kid's game and you can still get some equivalent benefit from it, you can have fucking fun with it and not have to snub your nose in the air like a fucking party-pooper. The same as astrology. You don't have to literally believe that giant conflagrated gas balls in the heavens are resonating frequencies that are affecting your impulses or something (I have no idea if anyone actually believes that, but who knows?)... You can just go... "this pattern of behavior that is applicable for most if not all people has been randomly chosen for me to consider in how I go about my day/life." So you can know that no one is trying to influence your decisions or your fate. It's RNG. Divination is RNG. So you leave it up to a dice-roll to pick something for you to pay attention to, and you do the leg-work of considering how that applies to your life and what to do with it. That's how I apply tarot and astrology (and many other things), but again... the example here was... someone coming up and going "I don't believe in astrology/tarot." And laughing smugly. And shoving their fingers in their ears or walking away. Never acknowledging, never entertaining the idea. THAT is denial.

Now... comparing denial to... letting go. Letting go is... me laying in bed and having a swarming flood of invasive thoughts and memories wash into my psyche... and I look at the memory of me almost dying in a kayak in a river 10 years ago... and I acknowledge it. I say, "I see you, memory. I know." And where I differ from so many that I've met? I am compelled to engage with it. I feel the feelings. I instinctively see reuniting with the memory as an opportunity to learn something. To glean more information in order to... grow. To keep myself safer in future situations. And because a lot of these memories surround life-threatening situations... their lessons are kinda mission-critical as far as my brainstem is concerned. So they get bumped to the top of the thought-queue. And that's a long damn queue, I think a lot.

So... what I've been trying to do is go... "yes, I see you. That situation was not very well thought out, but I have learned and grown a lot since then. The emotions I am feeling in response to that memory? They are echoes from how I felt in the Past. It's not happening to me right now, it's a memory. (That might seem like a given, but with PTSD... saying that step to myself is crucial.) It's Present Me trying to save Past Me. I can let this go, and maybe revisit it at a time when addressing this is more relevant... like going on a whitewater kayaking trip or something."

I'll be honest, it's been somewhat effective... but not a sure-fire solution. What happens with me is... that alert... that memory notification... I can let it go and recover from it. But then it sneaks back into the thought queue... and it starts pulling life-threatening-priority importance-rank to cut the line... and suddenly I'm right back in the same memory again. And it gets infuriatingly tedious, it can happen dozens of times. Little whirlpools and eddies in my stream of thoughts, where even though I can let the thoughts go... they just loop back around.

I still don't have a surefire solution for that, but I'm sure in time I will figure it out. I'm content in the progress I have made for now, I don't feel any need to solve everything right now. XD Though it does feel like... an endurance and willpower situation a lot of the time. Just enduring waves of difficult emotions and thoughts just... to get to sleep. Oh, and yeah... this is the same problem I have while I meditate. Like I have 4 or 5 radios playing in my head at the same time and I'm trying to focus on my breath through it. When I'm actively focusing on an art project and allowing my brain to also engage with one of the thought streams (like now), it gets manageably quiet. When I try to focus on just my breath? It can turn into chaos. So... I guess I need practice there. I don't really know why I have an aversion to it... maybe because it's so simple in theory, and I am so bad at it.

There's the self-judgement, I was waiting for it. Remember that depression from the past two days? This is one of only a few times he's chimed in today, and I've called him out every time. I'm really proud of that. :)

Welp. I "suck" at doing shove-its on a skateboard, too. I've never been consistent with them. I can do them into stalls, but not like... moving. Maybe that's how I should phrase this stuff, the way I phrase skate tricks. "I have never been consistently comfortable with _____" instead of "I can't _____". It feels a lot more positive and generous, while still being truthful. I can shove-it consistently on a snowskate. But skateboard, no-sir. Does that mean... give up on that and avoid it and just go about my skate career never trying shove-it tricks? Hell no. That means it goes on the trick list. The list of tricks I want to learn. On snowskate... that trick list is more impressive, but simply because I feel more confident to take risks on a snowskate.

I mean this sincerely, I really think skateboarding can help people a lot with self-improvement, as long as it's done in a way that's focused on personal growth. It's similar to dance, really - just higher stakes. So yeah, I want to treat my meditation goal the same way I treat learning skate tricks. Take some time and really dedicate that time to learning that skill. Get used to the feeling of it, get the hang of it, learn what to expect. Then... add it to the usual routine. I'm doing that with nose manuals right now. It may seem a bit lame to some that I just go to the skatepark to nose manual around... but I was always a manual guy, I just really enjoy it, I can be really consistent with them. Nose manual? Less so. They always spooked me a bit, there's a big mind-game with them where you're much more concerned with your nose hitting the ground and just immediately stopping and eating shit... manual you can just let your tail drag and its not the end of the world. But... you can drag your nose in nose manual without just immediately stopping - on a flat surface, at least. So it's definitely a bit of a mind-game. And I have started to just add nose manual into my (albeit very limited at the moment) bag of filler tricks. So if I'm just cruising around, I'll see where my ollie is at... and maybe a FS 180... but lately, I go to nose manual and add that trick to the bag. So I get more time with it and get more comfortable with how it feels. I have gotten to this point with yoga... where I can just break it out whenever I need it... and I hope to get to this point with meditation soon.

Okay, that's enough for tonight. Started painting the gold paint onto the grip tape, it looks pretty nice. We'll see what it looks like once I figure out the rest of the color scheme. I'm really leaning towards a deep red. Then it's details and shading, then on to the birds. It's been a good day. I'm gonna close it out with either a shower or a bath.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of thoughts #stream of consciousness

0 notes

hersterical · 2 years ago

Text

My story isn’t a quarter as intense as the one before, but I feel like it’s still relevant.

There’s this really cool outdoor shopping center near where I grew up. There was a movie theater, a large range of stores, places to eat that range from fast food to it’s laughable that you think my family could afford to eat here, a cool water fountain, and a playground. In the winter there was an ice-skating rink and in the summer they had concerts. The prime spot for pretty much anyone to hang out and stay out of trouble which is what my friends and I were doing when I was 14.

Turns out some of the restaurants start serving alcohol after 8 pm so no one under the age of 18 was even allowed to be anywhere on the shopping centers property once this happens (I get the idea behind the rule, but it seems pretty ridiculous in practice when you consider how early 8 pm is to be kicking teenagers out of an area that was meant to cater to people of all ages. Even more especially true when you consider that some of these places employed high schoolers who sometimes wouldn’t get off of work until 10). We had no idea that this was a rule when at roughly 8:05 this mall cop on a power trip walks up to where we were just talking on some provided seating and threatens to arrest us for having the audacity to be existing somewhere that was specifically designed to be a community gathering place. We lied and said that our parents were already on their way to pick us up. After that he backed off and we contacted our parents, but he spent the next ten minutes staring at us as though the moment he looked away we would book it to whatever the nearest place that served alcohol was (we didn’t know what places those were back then and I still don’t know now) and steal some beer or whatever. We got super uncomfortable and acted like our ride was there and walked to the parking lot just so we could get away from him.

Luckily we all had pretty chill parents and our houses were good places to hang out at, but that basically put a stop to us just hanging out or unnecessarily lingering at any public place together which was really sad for a few reasons. Every once in a while we would feel the need to get out of hour our houses no matter how reasonable our parents were which usually ended in us causing a little bit of trouble as we walked down the middle of our suburban streets, hung out in the church parking lot, or went to the park where I’m convinced we saw someone selling weed few times (a pretty big deal for us considering what big rule followers we all were).

I still visit the shopping center sometimes and it still has all of those cool stores and restaurants, seating areas, and big movie theater. But it doesn’t do those summer concerts anymore, no one stops to look at the fountain for more than a couple of minutes, and the seating areas go unused. It’s definitely not because people don’t want to, but for some reason it was actively discouraged and people tend to avoid places where they’re obviously not wanted.

#in the grand scheme of things this one thing was small #but it had a big impact on my friends and i #and the small ways places show that people are unwelcome add up #there’s no way we were the only ones treated like this #otherwise people would still be using it as a gathering place

68K notes · View notes

demonicsaintess · 3 years ago

Text

The Most Pointless Mob Psycho 100 S2ep3 Rant Ever

warning: there’s a bit of spoilers here

Hello hello it’s me again, Holy~

So I’ve been binging Mob Psycho 100, because everyone started suddenly talking about it, and being the nosey bitch that I am…. I needed to get to it. So, of course I did. I spent about an hour writing this. I wanted to get this right. Especially since I felt some if the parallels lined up with my personal life experiences. So, it’s time to cut the cake.

*note, stuff that can be casually skipped over, will be written in orange

Damn this episode was a doozy.

Season 2 Episode 3: One Danger After Another ~Degeneracy~

I love Reigan. I really, really fucking love Reigan. He cares for Mob and is honestly a good mentor to him, although he himself is shady. He is seen as the one who is emotionally shaping, and raising Mob. I have issues with the way Reigan has been going about it though; and I don’t feel like that’s an unfair accusation. Like, sure, during the first season, he goes from lightly manipulating Mob, to taking notice of the effect of the actions he is making Mob take. Now in the second season, it seems as though he has now acknowledged that whether he wanted to or not, Mob has come to take his words as law; and Reigan is now a father figure to him. Here is the growth path it seems to be going down in my opinion. Now, I’m just speculating, but this season’s going to be a huge awakening for Reigan, to the fact that he has probably been the unconscious catalyst for a considerable amount of emotional turmoil to Shigeo’s adolescence . It’s almost laughable how Dimple can see it before Reigan. Yes, it may be because of underhanded motives, but to be fair, isn’t Reigan also using underhanded tactics? On the other hand though, I also see Reigan starting to become more honest; even if he doesn’t stop scamming. (Come on, we all know Reigan is stupidly good at cons; we love a bad bitch okay? Girl boss??) But I don’t see this season going further than this aspect regarding Reigan.

Mob on the other hand, I believe he has learned something about himself, each time he has exploded.

So, a little backstory. Once upon a time there was a little girl back in the 90s, who was diagnosed in the early days of mental health awareness, with ADHD; and eventually ended up with a final diagnosis 20 years later, of bipolar and schizophrenia, Trust me when I say, it took YEARS for me stabilize, with medicine. It was hard, scary, and way too much to have to deal with through my adolescent years; and I had a good, caring support system. Okay, end of flashback (phew).

This season has eerily similar undertones to the struggles I had faced, okay, scratch that; it’s screaming in my face; the similarities are quaking, alright? The most ironic thing I can say about this is, it’s fucking puberty my guys! Right now Mob is what? 14/15? That’s a really sensitive age for kids. Not to mention, imagine having the unfortunate issue of WHEN you reach emotional overload, you black out, and destroy things. Many mental illnesses come with loss of memory to outbursts, and even black out rages or mental breaks. When I was a child, I’d get so emotionally stressed where I’d sort of “go to sleep,” and it’d end with me “coming to” with myself, or others hurt; sometimes both. Mob is essentially experiencing that.

Mob is dealing with his emotions getting bigger, as he’s starting to try to be PART of the world now. He’s still desperately trying to keep control in the way he was taught: bottle it up. He went from trying to deny himself it felt like. Almost as if he didn’t consider himself as… anything. Almost feeling unfortunately born, but not wishing to leave the loose support system he does have. Everything he has learned about being a good person, unfortunately came from Reigan. Let me make this clear, I’m not shitting on Reigan. I actually love him. THEREFORE, being honest, I have to also fault him. I will give him back his points though for the following reason:

I think, being at the age where I would have children, I feel Reigan’s rule of don’t fight humans, is the smartest option for Shigeo. Think about it; at the end of episode 3, what did he say? “If I were to ever use my power to eradicate a person, is there anyone who would be able to stop me?” That’s a pretty heavy thing to have to think of around 14 years old. Mob is struggling emotionally this season. I can already see him having a breakdown. I hate to just bluntly say this, but I just have a bad feeling on episode 3, that is just steadily growing more gnawing. I feel like Shigeo starting to voice his opinion, and slowly learning to make his own boundaries and realizing his own morals, is also becoming his “undoing” of sorts. Acknowledging and learning about your emotions, and how to healthily cope with them, is honestly probably the most irresponsible to think a 14 year old to manage perfectly. Therefore, requiring a 14 year old boy to deal with situations where he has to make permanent decisions by himself (think the family of ghosts and whether to exorcise them “for the customers.”), is asking for way too much. I for one, think its super fucked up that he has to even think for one second about something like this, over his FOURTEEN YEAR OLD LITTLE BOY FEELINGS. (Thanks a fucking lot REIGAN).

I have a lot of hope for Shigeo this season. Just like little reporter girl said, “Mob-kun needs to grow much, much more.”

Thanks for reading yet another review by

The Holy Villainess~

#mob psycho 100 #mob #mp100 shigeo #shigeo kageyama #anime review #anime #mp100 #mp100 reigen #mp100 dimple #mp100 s2 #mp100 mob #mp100 shigeo kageyama

30 notes · View notes

delicrieux · 4 years ago

Text

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”.

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing. word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie: y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!”

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

queen rly went from 🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing.

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.”

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall.

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets.

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout.

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #myso #make you say oh #imagine #imagines

953 notes · View notes