#& like I hate that I have these thought patterns and idk how to stop!!!!! but I need to fr lol

[stardust-sunset]

lowkey glad i got my wisdom teeth out now because im getting used to barely eating and i know once school starts im gonna have to start getting back in the rhythm of one meal a day because i don’t do lunch (vent in the tags mb)

[sakhafa]

something I’m realizing is I’m struggling with setting real proper intentions for whatever I’m doing…it’s definitely something I’ve been trying to work on but especially now as the new year is upon us it’s making me think

[pepprs]

um… bad jew moment 💃🏻

[sweetblinginrose]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗,

(OS Eddie Munson x fem!reader geek)

summary: Rival Dungeons and Dragons reader who has a tournament and ends up without clothes. Oops…

word count: 6,6k +

warnings: obv +18, rivalry, unprotected sex, asphyxiation, bad language, cumming inside, female masturbation, culilingus.

a/n: hey lol, i wrote this half asleep so idk how it turned out, i'll see if it's any good or not later, so if there is something wrongly translated or that you don't find makes sense, pls let me know, hugs!

oh and don't copy my idea, it's my own huh 🦄

masterlist

part 2 !!

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

The Sith Order.

All the members of the Hellfire Club and your group, The Sith Order, maintained a cordial and mutually respectful relationship, with the exception of the tense rivalry between you and the opposing leader, the insufferable Eddie. You hated him so much, especially now that you had bet your grand dice, which your brother had given you as a gift.

The abandoned cabin loomed like a shadow among the trees of the forest, a forgotten refuge that now housed your group of friends and your imaginary adventures. Inside, the air was filled with a smell of dampness and earth, a constant reminder of nature reclaiming its space. The once cozy and lived-in furniture was now covered in a layer of dust and cobwebs that wove complex patterns in every corner.

The sofa, your throne, was worn out, with upholstery torn in several places, revealing the crumbling yellowed foam at the touch. Dark stains of time adorned the fabric, and every time you moved, a cloud of dust rose like a sigh from the cabin itself. Sitting there, on your stomach, with a furrowed brow and crossed arms, you couldn't help but feel the rough and cold texture of the sofa against your skin, a reminder of your recent defeat in the game.

Around you, the tables wobbled on uneven legs, their surfaces scratched and marked with circles from past glasses. The faded and torn curtains hung sadly from the windows, allowing dim light to filter in and illuminate the dust particles in the air. The floor creaked under the weight of footsteps, and each floorboard seemed to tell a story of abandonment.

In this space, time seemed to have stopped, and every object told the story of a better past now eclipsed by neglect and desolation.

You felt as if a storm was brewing inside you, a mixture of frustration and challenge that consumed you as you sat on the sofa. The defeat in the friendly game was a thorn in your pride, a small battle lost in a war that seemed to extend beyond the game of dragons and dungeons. The rivalry with the Hellfire Club and its leader, Eddie, was the real dragon to be defeated, and every thought of him fueled the flames of your resentment.

Eddie, with his arrogant smile and his ability to bring out the best in his players, had become the antagonist not only in the game, but in your mind and life. You imagined him, with his tousled hair and carefree attitude, as the perfect villain for your campaign, one who seemed to enjoy every time his group came out victorious. The idea that he might consider your defeat as a point in his favor was unbearable.

While your friends continued with the campaign, laughing, stressed, focused, and rolling dice, you immersed yourself in your thoughts, planning your next move. It was not just a matter of winning a game; it was a matter of honor, of proving that your group could overcome any challenge, even the infamous Hellfire Club. Determination began to replace frustration, and although you still felt the bitterness of defeat, there was now a new goal on the horizon: to defeat Eddie and prove that your group was the best in the fantasy game.

But... were you really prepared for tonight?

...

Eddie, with a sly smile and a spark of malice in his eyes, steps forward to greet you in the lair of the Hellfire Club, the basement of the institute, the setting of countless campaigns and now the battlefield of your latest challenge. As the girls from your club gather in the space, filled with detailed maps and meticulously painted character figures, Eddie focuses on you, his most formidable rival.

"Welcome, oh great 'Mialee!'" he exclaims with an exaggeratedly theatrical and ironic tone, making a reference to the elven mage character to underline his mockery. "I hope your spells are as sharp as your tongue this time, and that your strategies are less predictable than your expressions of defeat."

You can feel the gaze of the others on you, some with complicit smiles and others with cautious curiosity. Eddie continues, not missing the opportunity to poke at your pride: "I hope you brought your Dragon Crystal Die, because something tells me you're going to need all the luck you can get."

The lair resonates with the stifled laughter of the club members, and although you know that Eddie's words are part of the rivalry game, you also feel that each joke is a challenge to your skill and determination. With a firm gaze and unwavering resolve, you prepare to show that this battle will be different, that this time, Eddie will be the one left speechless at the end of the night.

"You are living proof that not everything that glitters in a treasure is gold, and in your case, it's not even copper," you say, challenging him as you look him in the eyes. With a confidence that resonates in every word, you confront Eddie, your eyes shining with the reflection of the candles that illuminate the basement. "I hope you haven't forgotten your part of the bet, Eddie," you say with a firm and clear voice that cuts through the tension in the room. "That Orb of Entwined Destinies you so proudly show off will be mine before the moon reaches its zenith."

The Orb of Entwined Destinies was a perfect sphere of dark crystal, with a core that seemed to contain a miniature nebula, ever-changing and slowly rotating. It was more than just an object for Eddie; it was a symbol of his ability to manipulate probabilities and destiny within the game.

The mention of the orb makes Eddie's smile falter for a moment, a crack in his facade of confidence. You know you have hit a sensitive point, reminding him that you are not the only one with something valuable at stake. "Get ready, Eddie," you continue, "because when I'm done with you and the Hellfire Club, that orb will be the trophy of The Sith Order, and your luck will change forever," you spit, leaving the boys dumbfounded, unlike his group of friends, as they were used to this kind of speech.

Lucas, with a carefree smile and a tone bordering on disbelief, tries to lighten the atmosphere that has built up in the room. "Come on, guys, don't you realize? It's just a dumb bet, right? There's no need to turn this into an epic battle or something..." he comments, his voice a thread of sanity in the tapestry of rivalry unfolding before him.

However, his attempt to lighten the mood is quickly quashed by a severe look from both leaders, who in a rare moment of unity gesture to him with a stern gesture and an almost synchronized "Shh!" The seriousness of their bet is not something they are willing to downplay, even with Lucas' playful interjection.

The battle between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club unfolds in a fantasy world woven with the magic of dragons and dungeons, but the tension is as real as the beating hearts of the players. The room, illuminated by the flickering light of the candles, has transformed into an epic battlefield where each roll of the dice resonates like the clash of swords.

The Sith Order bravely faces the challenges posed by Eddie and his Hellfire Club. The dice roll on the table like distant thunder, dictating the fate of heroes and villains alike. You, The Sith Order, with characters ranging from cunning rogues to powerful sorceresses, maneuver through traps and puzzles that Eddie has crafted with malicious skill. The battle intensifies, with each strategic move and each spell cast adding layers to the unfolding narrative. Your characters fight hordes of infernal creatures, cross dark abysses, and decipher ancient codices to unravel the secrets that will lead them to victory.

As the night progresses, a tie seems imminent. The Hellfire Club has countered every attack, every plan, with a precision bordering on the supernatural. But you, with your leading character, are not willing to give up. With a mix of cunning and a bit of luck, you roll the dice for one last masterful play. Silence fills the room as the dice roll, dancing on the edge of the abyss between victory and defeat. Finally, they settle, and the numbers they show are the harbinger of a tide change. Your play has been successful, overcoming the defenses of the Hellfire Club and securing an unexpected triumph.

Eddie, with a look of genuine astonishment, acknowledges the victory of The Sith Order, albeit reluctantly. You, with a smile of satisfaction, accept the Orb of Entwined Destinies, now rightfully yours.

Amidst the euphoria of victory, one of the girls from your group, with a contagious smile and an overflowing energy, suggests an idea that captures everyone's attention. "How about we celebrate with some pizzas? It would be great to relax and enjoy the moment," she says enthusiastically.

The idea is met with a mix of nods and smiles. It is a comfortable and familiar proposition, a perfect way to lower the intensity of the night and simply enjoy each other's company. Everyone, except you and Eddie, seems to agree. The tension of the battle still clings to you, and the idea of sharing a table with Eddie and his club, even in a neutral and friendly environment, is something that you find hard to accept, just like Eddie.

However, aware that rejecting the offer could be seen as poor sportsmanship, both of you reluctantly agree with a gesture of resignation. "Fine, but only because I'm hungry," you murmur, trying to hide your reluctance behind a practical excuse. Eddie nods silently, his serious expression revealing his reluctant agreement.

And so, with victory still fresh and emotions running high, the group sets off to share a meal that promises to be as full of flavor as it is of interesting dynamics.

The night has slipped into a soft twilight when everyone, now relieved of the tension of the game, finds themselves in Eddie's van. The space is filled with laughter and the sound of bottles clinking together. "Cheers!" the group shouts for the sixth time, raising their beers in the air in a toast that has become a ritual.

Eddie's van, with its worn seats, stickers, dirt, and windows displaying the world passing by at high speed, has become a temporary sanctuary of camaraderie. With each new "Cheers!", the barriers between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club seem to dissolve a little more, erased by the alcohol and the shared joy. Or so it seems...

Eddie's van snakes along the road, a lonely path flanked by the silhouette of trees gently swaying under the starry sky. In the front seats, silence between Eddie and you is a marked contrast to the bustle that reigns in the back, where the rest of the group sings enthusiastically game anthems, interspersed with laughter and the sound of opening beers.

You, with crossed legs and a beer can resting in your hands, get lost in contemplation of the nature that unfolds before your eyes. The moonlight bathes the landscape, transforming each tree and bush into dancing shadows that play hide and seek with each turn of the road.

Eddie, with his attention focused on the road, drives with a slowness that seems to respect the shared silence. His profile stands out against the occasional glow of distant street lamps, and although you are together in the cabin, an abyss of unspoken words stretches between you.

"Hey..." Eddie's voice breaks the silence, a word hanging in the air that seems to wait for permission to continue. He does not look away from the road, as if fearing that a moment of distraction could reveal more than he intends.

You turn your head towards him, an eyebrow arched in a mixture of surprise and curiosity. It is strange, this attempt at conversation. Outside the game, words between you have been as scarce as leaves in winter. You have never crossed more than strategies and challenges, and now, this attempt at dialogue seems as out of place as a barbarian in a library.

The tension between you is palpable, a taut thread that is woven with each kilometer the van devours. What words will follow that "hey"? Will it be an attempt at a truce, or perhaps the prelude to another challenge? Time seems to stand still as you wait for Eddie to continue, and in that moment, the van is not just a moving vehicle, but a space where two rivals might, just maybe, begin to see each other as something more.

"No... no, nothing. Forget it..." he murmurs softly, not taking his eyes off the road, but now looking more tense, sighing.

You decide not to insist, but this time not averting your gaze from those long locks, but discreetly examining them for some kind of response.

Eddie's van glides to a smooth stop in front of a caravan. As he turns off the engine, Eddie's expression transforms. The seriousness that marked his face during the journey gives way to a genuine smile, an open invitation to continue the night in a space that is as much a part of him as the game they both love. "Come on, guys! The party continues at my place!" he exclaims with enthusiasm, his voice resonating with the promise of more laughter and memories to be created. "We can drink as much as we want, and if anyone's interested, there's weed too. My uncle works nights, so we have the place to ourselves."

Friends and friends respond with a chorus of approval, their stumbling steps and complicit smiles sealing the tacit agreement to extend the celebration. One by one, they enter the caravan, a cozy space illuminated by dim lights and adorned with mementos from trips and caps. A bit messy, but cozy.

You, with a mix of caution and curiosity, are the last to cross the threshold. Your eyes meet Eddie's, and for a moment, the outside world fades away. Eddie closes the door behind you, a simple gesture but loaded with meaning. You stand there, still, remembering the unfinished conversation, the words that Eddie left hanging in the air.

Feeling the weight of the night and the looks charged with unanswered questions, you decide to join the group that has settled in the caravan. You grab a few more beers, your hand brushing against the cold surface of the can, and sit at one end of the narrow sofa from where you can observe the scene. Eddie, on the other hand, seems different tonight. The usual arrogance that characterizes him has given way to an unusual stillness, almost reflective. Was defeat the cause of this change? Or was there something deeper behind his silence?

With each passing minute, glances between you meet like swords in a silent duel, full of questions that neither of you dares to voice aloud. After an hour of this game of looks, you feel the need to escape, if only for a moment, from the intensity of the atmosphere.

"Where is the bathroom?" you ask, your voice strangely formal in the relaxed atmosphere. Eddie points to a small hallway at the back, and you get up, navigating the space filled with laughter and conversations until you reach the bathroom.

Inside, you find yourself facing the mirror, your reflection returning an image of someone who seems to be on the border between two worlds. You wet the back of your neck, not wanting to ruin your makeup, and step out, feeling refreshed but still restless.

As you pass through the narrow exit of the bathroom, you collide with the partially open door of Eddie's room, and curiosity gets the better of you. You discreetly peek inside, your eyes scanning the space that is so intimately his. The room is adorned with posters of rock bands, metal, clothes everywhere, magazines scattered on the floor, and action figures of fantasy heroes, a mix of passions that reveal facets of Eddie that you had never considered. On the bed lies an open diary with scribbles and handwritten notes.

Eddie, with his carefree smile, leans against the doorframe, watching you with curiosity as you try to process the mess. "What are you doing here?" he repeats, his voice gentle but clearly amused by your confused expression. The scent of marijuana is evident, and his eyes, although red, gleam with a mischievous spark. He seems not to mind in the least your presence in his personal sanctuary. You feel like an intruder in an unknown world, every object in the room telling a story that only Eddie knows. However, he, with that calm bordering on indifference, gestures for you to enter. "Come, I'll show you my collection," he says casually, and suddenly, the place transforms. What was chaos before now seems like an art gallery, each hanging T-shirt, each vinyl, and each magazine clipping is a piece of his identity. He guides you through his space, narrating anecdotes of concerts and trips, his voice a thread weaving a tapestry of lived experiences.

The initial embarrassment fades away, replaced by fascination at discovering the depth of Eddie's personality. And as he shares his world with you, the messy room becomes a map of his personal universe, a place that, despite the disorder, now makes sense.

As you survey the room with your gaze, something catches your attention and takes your breath away: a proudly displayed B.C. Rich guitar hanging on the wall.

It is a red and shiny beauty, with its aggressive shapes and air of mystery, a piece that any metal lover would desire. Your heart beats with excitement, not only because of the surprise of finding such a treasure in Eddie's room, but because metal is your passion, one of the many things you have in common with Eddie without even knowing it, a detail he is unaware of.

He notices your excitement and, with a mischievous smile, takes down the guitar and hands it to you. "It's all yours, at least for now," he says with a wink. You hold it in your hands with reverence, feeling the weight of the wood and the coldness of the metal.

With shyness but moved by the emotion, you ask Eddie to play something. He shrugs, regretting the lack of an amplifier, but he is not discouraged. With a mischievous smile, he starts "playing" the guitar silently, mimicking the sounds with his mouth. It's a parody, but there is something about his attitude that invites you to play along.

"Come on, guess which song this is," he challenges you, as he moves his fingers in the air and imaginary sounds of a song fill the room. You concentrate, trying to follow the rhythm and melody that Eddie creates. The silent notes seem to come to life, and suddenly, you recognize it. It's 'Time Is Right' by Whitesnake.

Laughter fills the room as you guess it, and Eddie nods approvingly. "I knew you were one of mine, babe," he says, and in that moment, the guitar is not just an instrument, but a bridge between two souls who share a hidden passion for metal and many other things.

A blush creeps up your cheeks, an unexpected warmth that takes you by surprise. The word "babe" resonates in your ears, a term so casual and yet, loaded with an intimacy you did not expect. It feels as if you are inside the pages of one of those erotic books your mother used to read in secret, where the protagonists, initially at odds, end up wrapped in a story of love and rough sex.

Eddie's gaze has become more intense, his eyes no longer just reflecting the reddish glow of a pot smoker, but also a different glow, deeper, provoked by your presence. There is something about the way he looks at you that makes you feel like you are the only person in the world at that moment, but at the same time, as if he is undressing you.

You find yourself returning his gaze, unable to look away from his eyes. There is a connection, an unspoken understanding that seems to transcend words. And while a part of you wants to laugh at the situation, at how absurd it is to feel like a character in a pornographic novel, you cannot deny the electricity in the air, that spicy tension that hangs between the two of you.

Eddie takes a step towards you, his proximity overwhelming, and although he does not say anything more, he doesn't need to. Words are unnecessary when the looks speak for themselves. And in that instant, in that messy room that smells of marijuana and freedom, you understand that sometimes, real life can be as surprising and exciting as the stories hidden within the pages of a book.

After that moment, the room seems smaller, as if the walls had closed in to witness the silence shared between you. You decide to break the tension with a nervous smile and a change of subject. "Hey... what did you want to ask me before, you know, in the van?" you ask, stuttering slightly as you feel Eddie's scent filling your nostrils.

Eddie leaned against the threshold of the door, just inches away, watching your lips adorned with an intense crimson and your lined eyes attentively. "Ah, that..." he wondered, feigning forgetfulness. "I think I wanted to say something about Dungeons and Dragons, right?" he inquired with irony, biting his lip as he laughed and crossed his arms.

None of this compared to the fantasies you had with Eddie. Let's admit it, you had imagined countless similar scenarios, all related to the game and its protagonist, Eddie. You had wished for him to touch you in the same way he caresses his guitar. You wanted to be that fucking guitar.

"I don't think I want to talk about that right now..." you whispered, slowly moving closer to Eddie, who raised an eyebrow and smiled widely, catching your hint.

"Well then, if you don't want to listen to me, why don't you shut me up?" he whispered near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He grabbed your belt, holding your short denim skirt, forcing you to be pressed against him. "I said, why don't you shut me up..."

Eddie played dirty even outside of his character. He wanted you to take the initiative, perhaps to mock you or further feed his ego, but you wouldn't allow that to happen. With confidence, you ran your tongue over your lips and approached his neck, whispering, "I don't plan on silencing you. I enjoy listening to you and narrating each campaign..." This excited him, caressing your shoulder and getting closer, causing your breasts to press against him, eliciting a reaction in his groin. "Then, shut me up. I know you've wanted to since you met me," you whispered, trying to provoke him, with some success.

He responded by pushing you against the wall, trapping you between it and his body, placing his thigh between yours and gripping your waist tightly, feeling the coldness of his rings against your bare skin. "What I've wanted since I met you is to fuck you on the Harken map, so that your screams scare away the undead lurking there..." he muttered with a deep voice, softly kissing your collarbone, causing a sigh to escape your lips. With captivating slowness, Eddie guides his lips to yours, each movement deliberate and filled with anticipation. When they finally meet, the kiss is like an explosion of fire, burning and passionate. His lips sink into yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless, and his tongue boldly slides in to explore every corner of your mouth from the very first moment.

As your lips entwine in a sensual dance, his hands find your breasts with a firmness that surprises and excites you at the same time. The pressure of his hands cupping your breasts sends a wave of pleasure through your body, making you involuntarily shudder at the intense and unfamiliar sensation. You never expected this reaction, but you find yourself completely captivated by the desire that Eddie awakens in you, leaving you craving more of his passionate touch.

Eddie suddenly stops, his fingers noticing the absence of the bra he expected to find. A mischievous spark shines in his eyes as he looks at you with a mixture of surprise and desire. With a naughty smile on his lips, he whispers in your ear in a seductive tone, "Wow, looks like the girl comes with nothing...," murmuring with a hoarse voice, his warm breath sending shivers down your naked skin. His comment, though bold, is imbued with an irresistible sensuality that makes you blush and feel even more drawn to him. It feels like you're in a scene taken straight from one of those forbidden novels your mother used to find in the library, but this time, you're the protagonist, enveloped in the heat of shared desire with Eddie.

With expert dexterity, Eddie deepens the kiss, intensifying each brush of his lips against yours. As his tongue explores yours with unrestrained passion, his thigh slides and exerts pressure between yours, finding its way under your denim skirt, lifting it almost completely, hitting just that sensitive spot that makes your whole body react instantly.

"Mhmmm..." an involuntary moan escapes your lips as you feel the perfectly placed pressure of his thigh against you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You feel the need to ride that leg. You were very wet at that moment, so the touch was making you even wetter.

He moves it with precision between yours, creating a delicious friction that awakens sensations that make you gasp against his lips. Each movement is calculated, designed to provoke maximum pleasure, as his thigh finds that sensitive spot on your body, sending waves of excitement through you.

"You've got me so hard..." with a throaty whisper, he makes you aware of the effect you have on him, sending a thrill of excitement down your spine. His warm breath against your lips only increases the intensity of the moment. You feel your heart pounding hard as you let yourself be carried away by the passion swirling around you. Then, with seductive skill, he leans slightly down, his strong hands gripping the bottom of your thighs to open you up and wrap around his waist. The change in position allows his bulge to press directly against your underwear, which is exposed by the previous lifting of your skirt. A wave of desire surges through your being as you feel his prominence brushing directly against your sensitive and swollen clit, sending sparks of pleasure that seem to electrify every fiber of your being.

The movements of his hips are precise and deliberate, each delicious brush torturous while engulfing you deeper into the abyss of pleasure. The sounds of your ragged breathing blend with the seductive whispers and soft moans escaping between hot kisses. You are completely at the mercy of the passion Eddie unleashes in you, lost in the whirlwind of overwhelming sensations that threaten to consume you completely.

The barely contained moan escapes your lips between kisses as you feel Eddie's gentle hip movement, a movement that sends you soaring to the heights of pleasure. Still with your thighs tightly wrapped around his hips, you give in to a wild and passionate kiss, with an intensity that defies any limit.

The kiss becomes a whirlwind of unabated passion, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as you let yourself be carried away by the overwhelming sensations. Amidst the heat of the moment, you feel Eddie release one of your legs, changing the dynamics of the position and making you feel his bulge even more. Now, in this new position, the contact with his clothed cock is even more evident, causing you to instinctively arch your hips towards him, seeking more contact, more friction. You feel his hands grip your buttocks firmly, aggressively pressing you against his jeans, as if he is eager to feel you even closer.

The brushes and hip movements become increasingly intense, a symphony of pleasure that seems to have no end. You are completely immersed in the moment.

"Mmhm... fuck..." Between moans escaping your lips, accompanied by the sensual movements of your hips, Eddie suddenly stops, only to turn off the bedroom light and then guides you, still with your body on top of his, to his disheveled bed. He places you on your back on the tousled sheets, and positions himself above you, burning desire reflected in his gaze as he begins to explore your neck with hot kisses and licks. Each touch of his tongue against your skin awakens an electric sensation that makes you tremble with pleasure. His expert hands play with your nipples from inside your top, squeezing and teasing them while his thighs continue to exert delicious pressure on your intimate area, making you gasp with each movement, holding onto his back.

Slowly, your rival moves down your body with controlled impatience, licking and kissing your abdomen eagerly before quickly lifting your top and leaving you exposed before him. His lips find your breasts, and he kisses and licks them with devotion, as if they are the most delicious thing he has ever tasted. His long hair sometimes gets tangled in his face, but when you start gently tugging on it for pleasure, he moves away, leaving behind an incredibly enticing scene that makes you arch your hips forward instinctively.

While Eddie continues to lavish attention on your breasts, his hands begin to explore above your underwear with his ring finger, stroking gently from top to bottom. "Do you like it like this?" he asks between kisses and licks, asking you with a husky voice if you're enjoying yourself, establishing an intimate and desire-filled dialogue that only increases the sexual tension between you. "Or is it better like this?" he increases the speed of his touch.

Your silence prompts Eddie to grab your chin firmly, his fingers exerting a dominant and sexual pressure as he forces you to look into his eyes. When you finally respond to his question with an intense gaze, he slowly releases you, going back down to give attention to your body. His lips find your panties, and he kisses and licks them eagerly, soaking them with his saliva mixed with your own excited wetness.

With precise and deliberate movements, Eddie slowly pulls down your panties, placing soft kisses on your inner thigh as he slides them down your legs. Once he has removed your panties, his eyes meet your exposed, naked, and wet pussy, and he can't help but feel his cock throbbing with an unprecedented intensity, eager to satisfy the burning desire between them. You feel incredibly exposed under his heated gaze, but Eddie sees you as a work of art, a sight that excites him to the limit. Without wasting time, Eddie gives you a generic lick to your wet pussy, spreading your lips with his fingers to access your exposed clit directly. An overwhelming moan escapes your lips at the wave of pleasure that courses through your body, but Eddie quickly covers your mouth, whispering that you can't moan to avoid being heard in the common area where the others are.

With a mischievous smile on his face, Eddie realizes that the loud music has concealed any sound that would have revealed their activities in the bedroom. With your mouth still covered, he delves into the task with renewed eagerness, licking and sucking your clit with an intensity that makes your body arch in response. Each suck and each lick sends waves of pleasure through you, taking you to the edge of ecstasy over and over again. Your hips move instinctively in response to the overwhelming pleasure, but Eddie firmly controls them, maintaining a rhythm that takes you closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure. With an expert hand, he begins caressing your abdomen, slowly descending until reaching your clit, parting his mouth for a moment to touch it with his fingers before inserting two of them without any prior preparation.

The sudden stimulus causes your eyes to roll back, and your thighs tighten with force from the pleasure that overwhelms you, arching your back and moving your hips towards the direction of the long-haired person. In a short time, Eddie goes back to action, losing himself between your thighs as he continues moving his fingers with unwavering determination.

He continues like this for a few minutes, not stopping for a moment, until you feel that you're about to reach climax. You grab his hair with incredible strength, almost burying your fingers in its roots, urging him to continue, feeling like you're about to burst in his mouth. But just as you're on the edge of orgasm, he pulls away from you, leaving a thread of saliva mixed with your wetness as a separation between his mouth and your pussy, leaving you in a state of uncontrollable anticipation and desire.

Eddie, eager to satisfy his burning desire, hastily fumbles with his zipper and unleashes his erect cock, ready for action. Eddie's cock, although of average size, has a peculiarity that sets it apart: a curved shape that gives it a unique and distinctive appearance. Its thickness is notable, and the veins that run along its length add texture to its look. The skin that covers it has a pink tone, with a reddish hue indicating the excitement that engulfs it. A slightly glistening liquid adorns its tip. It is an image that reflects virility and desire, a promise of intense pleasure about to be unleashed.

"How does this look, huh?" he moves it, noticeably sensitive, gently rubbing it against your clit, giving you a mischievous look as if he's playing a game with you. Without warning, after lightly masturbating it, he quickly and decisively inserts it into you, completely surprising you and leaving you breathless. "Mhmmm..." he sighs deeply, as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, arching his head backward. From the very first second, he begins to thrust into you with a dizzying rhythm, penetrating you deeply over and over again. You are overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure that engulfs you, unable to articulate a single word as you completely surrender to the wild thrusts of the guy. Each thrust hits your insides with overpowering force, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

Despite the initial discomfort from the lack of preparation, you find yourself immersed in a whirlwind of sensations that make you lose track of time and space.

You writhe under him, unable to hold back the moans that escape your lips as you completely surrender to the frenzied pleasure that consumes you. Although it hurts, you can't help but enjoy every thrust, every touch of his skin against yours ignites a burning fire inside you.

He grabs you by the neck with a firm but dominant hand, stopping any sound that could escape your lips. His warm breath brushes against your ear as he whispers with a husky and authoritative voice, "Shut up." The words, loaded with desire and determination, send a shiver down your spine, leaving you breathless and obedient to his command. You are completely surrendered to him, unable to do anything but obey his orders as you let yourself be carried away by the frenzied passion that burns between you. The orgasm that you had almost experienced less than a minute ago begins to resonate through your body again, but the intensity of Eddie's thrusts makes you feel like you're on the verge of a great climax. You are completely overwhelmed by the avalanche of sensations that envelop you, unable to resist the tide of pleasure that drags you into an endless abyss of ecstasy. Your increasingly intense and uncontrolled moans blend with the background music, creating a symphony of pleasure and ecstasy that fills the room. Eddie, releasing his hand from your neck, begins to hit your thigh and butt with a mixture of desire and unbridled passion. As he continues to thrust into you with force, his lascivious words fill the air, whispering in your ear with a deep and seductive voice.

He tells you how much he has wanted to fuck that pussy of yours, expressing his most intimate desires with an exciting crudeness that makes you shiver with pleasure. He calls you a slut with a tone of desire and adoration, celebrating your sexuality and the way you grip his cock with every thrust. Those words, charged with lust and desire, only increase the intensity of the moment, pushing you closer to climax with each word that comes out of his mouth.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, every thrust of Eddie sending waves of pleasure through your body. He perceives it too, thanks to the way your pussy grips his cock, and he lets out a guttural grunt of satisfaction. You're on the edge of the abyss, about to let the ecstasy completely envelop you, while Eddie's lascivious moans and words push you towards the most glorious climax you've ever experienced

You feel the ecstasy completely enveloping you, a overwhelming wave of pleasure that shakes you to your core. Your walls contract tightly around Eddie's cock, squeezing with an intensity that makes him moan with pleasure. "Damn, you're so tight..."

Your body trembles uncontrollably, your eyes rolling back in your head as a guttural groan escapes from your lips, louder and more heartbreaking than ever before.

However, before you can fully recover from your orgasm, Eddie aggressively grabs you by the throat again, his expression a wild mix of concentration, excitement, and a hint of anger. With notable abruptness, he continues fucking with a renewed ferocity, as if taking revenge for something, but this time he has absolute control. The sensation of being taken with such force awakens a wild fire inside you, a overflowing passion that mixes with pain and pleasure in a symphony of indescribable sensations. You are completely immersed in the erotic game between you and Eddie, each thrust taking you further into the abyss of shared desire.

Thegame is now tied, each one taking the lead at different moments. You feel Eddie moaning with an unusual intensity, sensing that he's about to reach climax. You want to warn him not to come inside, but your throat is blocked by Eddie's firm hand, keeping you from articulating any words. A slight shiver runs through his body when he perceives your attempt to communicate your desire, but it's too late.

With a few final shaky thrusts, Eddie gives in to the avalanche of pleasure, releasing his hot and trembling liquid inside you. You accept his release without reserve, watching Eddie's expression as he does so. His face shows an unusual vulnerability, with arched eyebrows and a lost look somewhere in the room. His slightly parted lips release his moans of pleasure, and his hands grip your hips tightly, as if clinging to you for support.

After Eddie releases his liquid inside you, he slowly retreats and lies down by your side. Both of you remain staring at the ceiling, and suddenly, a nervous and uncontrollable laughter overwhelms you. Eddie looks at you strangely and asks what's happening. Between laughs, you respond that you just imagined that all of this was one of his campaigns, a kind of joke or experiment designed to test your limits and reactions. The surprise on Eddie's face turns into a knowing smile when he realizes that you have disarmed the tension of the moment with your humorous comment. Both of you give in to laughter, releasing the accumulated tension and sharing a moment of complicity after the unrestrained passion you just experienced together. It's an unexpected and light ending to an intimate and passionate encounter.

[ghsface]

BUT WHEN YOU GET ME ALONE, IT'S SO SIMPLE | spencer reid

Sumary: After years of friendship you decide to ruin it for good

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) soft!dom spencer, oral sex (f), semi-public, p in v sex, If I'm missing something, let me know

Word count: idk i just started writing and i couldn't stop

Author's note: So this is my first smut I hate it but I like it at the same time, tell me what you think, I also have so many things to publish, tell me if you want to be on my tag list, I'm sorry if there are misspelled words or spelling mistakes, my first language is not English🎀

The clock struck nine at night and the FBI office in Quantico was unusually quiet. The fluorescent lights flickered occasionally, adding a touch of surrealism to the atmosphere. You had decided to stay a little later to finish a report that had been piling up on your desk for days.

In the distance, you could see the tall, thin figure of Spencer Reid, still absorbed in his work. Ever since you joined the team, you had felt an undeniable attraction to Spencer. His intelligence, his unique way of being, and his charming shyness had captured you from the first moment.

You had noticed that your eyes met more often than you considered casual, and every interaction, no matter how small, left a mark on your mind.

There was something about Spencer that attracted you in a way you couldn't explain.

The way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about, or the way he bit his lip when he was focused on his readings.

He was a man who hid so much depth behind a facade of calmness and analysis.

That night, as you went over your notes, your thoughts inevitably drifted to him. You imagined what it would be like to be close to Spencer, to feel his warmth, his touch. The thought made you smile and sigh at the same time. You decided that tonight could be different.

Maybe it was time to break down the barriers and see what lay beyond the furtive glances and accidental brushes.

You stood up from your desk and walked to the section of the office where Spencer was working. He looked up at the sound of your footsteps, and his eyes met yours. The spark in his gaze gave you the courage you needed to move forward.

“Hey, Spence,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm as your heart pounded. “You staying late too?”

“Yeah,” he replied, with a smile that made your knees weak a little. “I’m just finishing up going over some cases. How about you?”

“Same here,” you lied lightly, feeling your true intentions reflected in your eyes. “I thought I’d take a break and check on you.”

The conversation flowed naturally, but the tension between you was palpable. Every word, every gesture, seemed to be laden with deeper meaning. When you both realized the office was completely empty, the atmosphere changed. Spencer leaned a little closer to you, and you responded by moving closer as well.

“I’ve always felt like there’s something between us,” you murmured, your eyes locked with his. “Something that goes beyond simple friendship.” Spencer nodded, his expression serious but filled with emotion.

“I’ve felt it too,” he confessed. “But I never knew if you felt the same.”

Without thinking, you moved closer and took his hand. “So what do we do about it?”

Spencer didn’t respond with words. Instead, he gently led you towards one of the empty offices. He closed the door behind you, creating a small haven of privacy in the middle of the vast building.

The room was dark, lit only by the dim light coming in from the hallway. Spencer looked at you with an intensity you had never seen before. His hands found your face, and his lips landed on yours in a kiss that was gentle at first, but soon became more passionate and urgent.

Your hands slid down his back, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath his shirt. Spencer responded with equal intensity, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You found yourself lost in the feeling of being so close to him, of feeling every beat of his heart against yours.

The kiss broke briefly, and Spencer looked at you with a mix of desire and tenderness. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he murmured, his voice husky with emotion.

“Me too,” you replied, before pulling him back to you.

Clothes quickly came undone, each item of clothing falling to the floor in deliberate oblivion. The touch of his skin against yours was electrifying, every caress, every kiss, igniting a fire inside you that you didn't know existed. Spencer's hands explored your body with a mix of urgency and gentleness, as if he were discovering a hidden treasure.

His fingers found the clasp of your blouse, sliding it down deftly. You felt his breathing quicken as did yours. You helped yourself to get rid of Spencer's shirt, revealing his firm, sculpted torso. Your hands ran over his chest, enjoying the feel of his skin under your fingers.

Spencer led you to the office couch, and gently laid you down, placing himself on top of you. His hands explored every corner of your body, from your neck to your hips, and your sighs mixed with his in a symphony of desire. Every movement, every touch, was a declaration of love and desire, a testament to the deep connection you shared.

“This is more than I ever imagined,” you murmured, feeling the pleasure build with each caress.

“I know,” Spencer replied, his eyes filled with adoration as he looked at you. “This is just the beginning.”

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses in their wake. His tongue traced circles over your skin, sending shivers of pleasure along your spine. When his lips found the edge of your bra, Spencer paused, looking up at you with a silent question in his eyes.

You nodded, giving him permission to continue. In one deft move, Spencer unclasped your bra, freeing your breasts. His lips found one of your nipples, sucking and licking until a moan escaped your lips. Meanwhile, his hands continued to explore your body, sliding down your sides and down to your thighs.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently as he continued to torture you with his mouth. Every lick, every soft bite, sent waves of pleasure straight to your core. You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, desire burning inside you with an intensity you had never experienced.

Spencer moved down, his lips trailing kisses from your breasts to your belly. He paused briefly to unbutton your pants, sliding them and your panties down your legs. You found yourself completely naked under his intense gaze, vulnerable yet aroused for what was to come.

His lips found the inside of your thighs, kissing them softly before moving to your center. When his tongue finally made contact with your clit, a cry of pleasure escaped your lips. Spencer alternated between licking and sucking, bringing you to the edge again and again without letting you fall.

“Please, Spencer,” you begged, desperately needing more.

He looked up, his eyes dark and filled with desire.

“I want you to enjoy every second of this,” he said, his voice husky and laden with passion.

With those words, he slid up, aligning his erection with your entrance. He looked at you once more, seeking confirmation. You nodded, and he thrust slowly, filling you completely. The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that left you breathless.

Spencer began to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first. You could feel every inch of his length, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your nails dug into his back, your moans filling the room as he increased the pace.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice cracking with effort. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

“Me neither,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper. “Don’t stop, Spencer.”

His movements became faster and stronger, each thrust bringing you closer to climax. You could feel the heat building in your belly, a delicious tension threatening to boil over at any moment. Spencer leaned into you, his lips finding yours in a hungry, desperate kiss.

When you finally reached orgasm, your body arched beneath him, a cry of pleasure tearing through your lips. Spencer kept thrusting, bringing you to a second climax before letting go, his own orgasm exploding inside you.

You both collapsed onto the couch, breathing heavily as you tried to recover. Spencer held you close, his hands gently caressing your back as you rested your head on his chest.

“That was amazing,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his skin

“Yes, it was,” he replied, his voice filled with satisfaction. “I love you.”

"I love you too spence,” you said, feeling overwhelming happiness knowing that you had found something truly special.

You stood there for a while, enjoying the closeness and newfound intimacy. You knew this would change everything, but you were both ready to face whatever came. Spencer looked at you with a satisfied smile and you smiled back, feeling a happiness you had never experienced before.

“I think we should head back before someone misses us,” he finally said, with a soft laugh.

“Yeah,” you replied, though a part of you wanted to stay there forever. You quickly dressed, adjusting your clothes and hair before leaving the empty office. As you returned to the main area, a few coworkers glanced at you curiously, but no one said anything. The spark in your eyes was enough to make everyone understand that something significant had happened.

The next few days were filled with knowing glances and secret smiles. The connection between you had deepened, and though you tried to remain professional, it was hard not to let your feelings seep into every interaction.

One night, after a particularly long meeting, Spencer invited you over to his house for dinner. You eagerly accepted, knowing that this would be another chance to explore your relationship.

The dinner was intimate and relaxed. You talked about everything and nothing, enjoying each other’s company without the pressures of work. After dinner, you sat down on the couch, and Spencer pulled you close to him.

“I love you,” he said, his words filled with sincerity and emotion.

“I love you too,” you replied, feeling your heart fill with indescribable joy.

The kiss that followed was slow and deep, filled with the promise of a future together. Spencer led you to his bedroom, and that night, you gave yourselves over to pleasure and love again, knowing you had found something truly special.

Over time, your relationship grew stronger. You learned to balance work and personal life, finding ways to support each other both professionally and personally. The team noticed the change, but everyone stood by you, knowing you had found something rare and beautiful.

Every day with Spencer was a new adventure, a chance to discover more about him and yourself. The passion and connection you shared never waned, and together, you faced every challenge that came your way.

And so, what began as a silent attraction in an empty office turned into an epic love story, one that neither of you had anticipated but one you both embraced with your entire being.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly☆

[1800-lemonadeg1rl]

Anyone other than you

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary- You and your supposed "enemy" get stuck in a cupboard while on a duo mission

Warnings- violence, gunshots, emo Wanda, mean Wanda, forced proximity, claustrophobia, confusion, not proofread!!

A/n - I dont know whether I hate this tbhhh idk whether it's because it took me sm breaks to write it but it feels off idkk

You entered the quinjet while sighing to yourself. How did you let this happen? You thought as you buckled on your seatbelt. Getting put on a duo mission with the one woman on the team who hates your guts. Wanda Maximoff.

You never had any idea what you'd done to make her despise you so much but nothing you ever did seemed to make up for it. Everytime you spoke in a meeting you could feel her stare digging into your soul. The way she'd scowl when she entered what she'd presume to be an empty room only to find you inside. She'd always mumble something in a language you didn't understand before flouncing out the room. Things weren't any better when you were part of a group with her either. She'd barely respond if you asked her something or flat out ignore you.

It wasn't like you hadn't tried to get along with her either, trying to be as friendly with her as you were with everyone else. Offering to make her food, help her with household chores or help out with her mission reports but nothing you did ever seemed to stop her from glaring at you. She wasn't known to be the most outgoing person but you never saw her act this way with anyone else so eventually you gave up deciding it best to ignore her the way she did you.

Now, unfortunately you didn't have that luxury anymore. You'd begged and begged Tony not to put you on this duo mission even contemplating getting ill to avoid it. He had insisted you had to go on this mission apparently you and Wanda had the 'specific' skills skillset for this mission, whatever that meant you knew he was just bullshitting to get you to shut up.

So now here you were getting ready to set off on your two day long stealth mission with the girl who could barely stand to look at you let alone talk and work with you.

☆

You'd arrived at the hotel room you'd be sharing with Wanda and thanked God that you'd got their first and the fact there was two beds. Quickly you threw down your bag on the bed closest to the window and began to check out the rest of the hotel room.

You were smelling the soaps in the bathroom when in clomped Wanda, her doc Martins still managing to make some kind of noise over the soft carpeted floor. She was dressed in a long baggy grey sweater and black skirt with patterned fishnets. Her hands adorned with rings and her short bitten at nails painted black.

"It smells of smoke." She thinks out loud without noticing your precense in the room.

"Yeah sorry about that it's my new signature perfume." You try to joke hoping she might happen to be over her constant anger with you. You study her face through the bathroom mirror as you speak watching out for her reaction. At first you see the possibility of a smile forming on her face and a rosy colour on her cheeks but quickly it's replaced by her signature scowl and a disgusted noise sneaking past her lips.

"Oh. You're here." She talks as if she'd expected someone else to be here despite the many debriefs you'd had together about this mission.

You for one had had enough of her attitude around you acting as if you were something below her. "Yes I'm here like it or not. Can we at least just be civil for the sake of this mission." You groan while walking over to where she's stood, raking your hands through your hair. In response she grumbled out some kind of agreement and that was it.

So far things had been going fine, you'd both kept to your own routine with minimal communication between the two of you. For the most part you'd spent your time exploring the hotel you were staying in. It was cheap and smelt damp. You for sure would be complaining at how you got booked in this dingy one star place once this mission was over. You'd been excited originally as the hotel advertised having a twenty five metre indoor swimming pool which was plenty to keep you occupied however when you inquired at the desk the receptionist, who'd been ignoring you stood there for ten minutes while she read her magazine, told it was shut indefinitely.

Eventually you had to return to the room and when you did Wanda was already fast asleep on her bed, small snores sounding occasionally. You took note of how pretty she was when she wasn't scowling before sliding into your own bed for the night.

☆

You'd done the first half of the mission with relative ease, you and Wanda putting a side your differences for the greater good. Now it seemed as if things were taking a turn for the worse. Upon arrival you'd both scouted the building for any kind of agents or security around the building but found none however now it seemed the building was filling up with them. Two men following behind who you were attempting to fire at and run away from, which is much harder than Natasha makes it look in training.

From the whimper of pain which sounded sounded out and echoed down the corridor you assumed you shot one. This was your chance to lose them and Wanda realised that too as you both picked up the pace of your running.

Out of nowhere she grabbed your arm and dragged you inside a small dark box? No it can't be a box you thought as you looked above you and saw an empty clothing rail. It was a cupboard. Your eyes scanned around the little space you had while trying to avoid eyecontact with Wanda who was leaning over top of you with one hand next to your head against the wall of the cupboard to keep her upright.

Quickly the cramped and uncomfortable space became all too much for you. The lack of oxygen in there made you take shallow breaths and sweat pooled from your forhead. It felt like the walls were closing in. You should get out. No you had to. Trying to move to force yourself out startled Wanda who gripped onto your shoulder to avoid you both tumbling out and compromising your hiding place.

"What are you doing? Just stay still." She whispered angrily. Had her voice always sounding that good up close? At that thought a frown crossed your face and you briefly forgot how badly you needed to get out of this space you were entrapped in. It didn't make you completely forget though as you came to your senses and stopped thinking about how nice Wanda's voice was and remembered how your heart was thundering in your chest and you whole body ached to get out of this cupboard.

"Have to.. to get out." You breathe out, expecting some kind of rude response from her as your breathing further quickens and vision fogs up. Her actual response is nothing you'd ever thought you'd hear her say.

"Look at me y/n." She waits to make sure your making eyecontact with her before continuing. "Its going to be okay, this is all okay and this is nothing you can't do. Just focus on me not the four walls.." her voice was soothing and not completely unlike a lullaby. You still felt unsettled but nothing like before when you were desperate to get out. "Your gonna be fine." She says again as she takes your hand in her own gently squeezing it. The cool feeling of her silver rings against your sweaty palms helping further calm you down as your breathing once again becomes steady.

After a few minutes of silence where you just focus on your breathing and the feeling of Wanda's thumb rubbing against the back of your hand you begin to speak. "Thanks.. I know you don't really like me or anything but I appreciated that a lot."

"Its nothing really... also your stood on my foot." She tells you returning to her usual cold snappy voice. Quickly you moved your foot away muttering apologies as you did, unsure how long you'd been stood on her foot. "I don't hate you either. Well not really."

Your about to question her on why she acts this way around you if she really doesn't hate you but before you can she opens the cupboard door and you both stumble out thankful for the airy space around you. "Don't bring this up y/n." She says before leading the way out leaving you trailing behind a little confused. Was she mean? Did she hate you? Was that all for the mission?

[adventuringblind]

Stimming

Oscar Jack Piastri x Autistic Reader

Genre: hurt/comfort (I think)

Request: let’s add to the list! Comment your swims that aren’t on here and I’ll add them!

Summary: Oscar and his reactions to certain stims

Warnings: mean people, Stims that are harmful

Notes: Okay, the majority of these are my personal Stims. but! That doesn't mean these are the only valid ones. Remember, it's a spectrum 🤟🏻

Masterlist

The rocking

This one is a major way of self-soothing

If he sees you doing it then I think he’d most likely use it as an indication that there is either a particularly strong emotion or that your overwhelmed

Definitely would just sit next to you

In silence or talking it doesn’t matter

He just want to be there with you

Flappy hands (hand shakes as I call them)

Probably thought you hurt your wrist

Also used as an indicator

Either it’s a way of saying no and it’s obvious that you want whatever is going on to stop

Or it’s the opposite and your extremely happy and excited and don’t know how else to express it

The latter reason is his favorite

He likes to see you smile and do flappy hands when your excited

He makes it a point to get you hyped for things

Nails in the skin

Doesn’t like this one

He doesn’t like seeing you hurt yourself in any way

He knows it’s your way of grounding

But he’ll try and get you to focus on something else

He keeps bandaids with him in case it gets really bad

Also, despite his nail habits, he’ll make sure yours are short so you can’t do as much damage to you skin

Hair tugging

Again, a harmful stim

He doesn’t enjoy seeing you do this either

Definitely a sign of being overwhelmed

He’ll run his fingers through your hair if you’ll let him

If not then he’ll find something else for your hands to do that distracts and calms your brain

The ear noise thing (idk what it’s called)

Saw you doing it once in a crowded area

Was confused at first until you showed him

He does it also now

It’s kind of fun for him

Everyone teases when you two are plugging and unplugging your ears in random locations.

The foot hopper

Can’t stand still

It’s a struggle

Anytime you go somewhere and can’t stand still you find yourself hopping between feet

Sometimes you make a pattern out of it

Or a rhythm

Or your own little game

Oscar is there to catch you if your balance is off

He will also join in on the game sometimes if you let him

He makes sure to stay close if you ever have to stand for long periods of time

T-Rex arms

He laughed

He couldn’t help because it was funny and adorable

He couldn’t help it

If you ever feel stuck in that position then he’ll be there to help

Whether is be food or the tv remote he never fails to make you comfortable

Will remind you to stretch your arms if you stay in that position

Would hate to see you get a cramp

The head to flat surface

Thought you were annoyed at first

Then you avidly explained that the table feels nice on your head

It became almost routine that you would send your forehead at a flat surface you hadn’t tried yet

Walls, floors, anything that looks smooth or cold or soft

He’d remind you not to do it to hard

Head wounds bleed particularly hard

Feel like he can feel it himself when you describe in great detail how it feels against your forehead and face

[mymarifae]

yesterday someone on strawpage asked me what made me go from a dr. ratio hater to a dr. ratio enjoyer and that response took me. four hours . to put together. so you know what i'm going to share my thoughts here too. here's why i like this ⬇️ jackass a lot now!!!!!!!!!!!

he's a tricky character! the first interactions we get with him are so off-putting and unpleasant that i feel like a lot of people are like "wow, this guy is a self-absorbed dick, i don't respect him at all. can he go away" - i know that was my reaction! and he IS a dick. but like. listen.

it's really, really, REALLY easy to misconstrue 90% of his words and actions. it doesn't help that he has the speech patterns of a haughty asshole. and it alsooooooo doesn't help that aventurine's stunt in penacony required orchestrating a "betrayal" between himself and ratio. i think some of the things ratio said during All That constitutes the bulk of most people's persisting dislike of him. So:

1. everything ratio did and said was exactly what aventurine asked him to. this was all pre-negotiated. i think aventurine's insecurities acting up and the way he started doubting whether ratio was truly just acting threw some people off as well, but there is plentyyyyyy of evidence that no, ratio does not hate him and was not waiting for the perfect opportunity to stab him in the back and rid himself of this "damned gambler" but i'll get more into that in a sec ok? i have another bullet point to make first. and it's important so read it carefully ok? promise?

2. any comments from ratio pertaining to aventurine's race were said to fuel the narrative SUNDAY was building in his head probably from the second he learned which ipc executive would be coming to penacony.

aventurine's plan hinged on sunday's prejudice. he needed sunday to think of him as a liar, a cheat, a silver-tongued honeypot - basically, every avgin stereotype floating around in the universe. he needed to invoke a sense of insult. how could someone so... despicable invade the family's sweet dream? he needed sunday to be so wound up over his presence in penacony that he couldn't resist the urge to put The Vile Avgin back in his place. idk THIS ("this" being the real world parallels of how the catholic church ethnically cleansed the rroma during the 16th and 17th centuries) is a whooooole issue in itself that i don't have the time to go into rn because we're supposed to be talking about dr. ratio. oops

anyway the important thing to understand is that ratio absolutely does not look down upon aventurine's heritage. he was acting, with aventurine's blessing, to feed into sunday's biases. and he wasn't even good at it 😭... like look at this exchange from 2.0:

one snarky comment from aventurine and his ass is immediately Apologizing. his ass that's supposed to be acting like he doesn't respect or like aventurine At All. in fact, aventurine's "even under the watchful eye of the harmony..." comment feels a liiiiittle pointed lol. it's a subtle warning to ratio! like, "hey, dumbass, did you forget we're being monitored at all times?? knock it off."

and like this isn't even the only time ratio breaks character and puts aventurine's plan in jeopardy. he learns nothing from this interaction because it's worse next time. lmao:

this stupid fuckignb note. is extremely significant in manyyyy ways so we have to talk about it. first of all, stopping to check on aventurine's condition and to say "tell me if you can't hold on any longer" RIGHT IN FRONT OF SUNDAY (basically, since the family was monitoring everything and a few minutes later we see one of gopher wood's birds hanging out in that general area)?? BRO

if he wanted to, this brief interaction would have been enough for sunday to call their bluff. and aventurine knew that; many of his lines here feel like attempts to redirect ratio into picking the act back up and to stop trying to help him.

next, the stupid fuckignb note's contents. yes yes the second half is very sweet and it's all anyone ever wants to talk about and i understand because it probably meant the world to aventurine especially in that moment but i need you to look at the first half

ratio gave aventurine the answer..? he. gave him the answer. you might be wondering why this matters at all and i'll just have to redirect you to his actions in 1.6, wherein he notably refused to give any answers and let asta, stelle, and like everyone else on the space station flounder, learn from their floundering, and - ultimately - Grow

ratio is a teacher through and through. if someone isn't one of those "geniuses" he wants nothing to do with, they're a potential student in his eyes. and everything that happened in mundane troubles was the space station's final exam, so to speak. his inaction wasn't out of cruelty or because he didn't care about the fate of all the people on the station - obviously he did, because he was the one using the phase flame to teleport the missing researchers to safety...

he posited himself as a safety net in case things went horribly terribly wrong, but he left most of it up to stelle and asta, because he believed in them. they had all the information they needed; they just needed to figure out how to utilize it. and if they failed, well... they had their safety net, and failure is a learning experience too. like, ratio wants people to learn. he wants them to have all the skills and knowledge they could possibly need to take charge of their lives.

the "geniuses" of the world, the head honchos, the impossibly rich 0.0001%? whatever you want to call them, there's always this Upper Level in society that can do things "ordinary" people can never dream of doing. their way of life is simply unattainable. ratio disagrees. he believes that anyone can do anything, if someone would only take the time to teach them. and he's chosen to be one of those teachers! instead of sitting on his ass and just theorizing about a better, fairer society, he's doing what he can to make a difference.

(not so self-centered after all, huh?)

so like. when you remember how much of a teacher ratio is, like this is a philosophy ingrained in his very bone marrow, it's a pretty big fucking deal that he just GAVE aventurine the answer he needed. it shows how concerned he was! and how guilty he felt about the part he had to play!!!! his words and actions were so far removed from his actual thoughts and feelings that he literally HAD to put the whole operation at risk to remind aventurine that he doesn't view him the same way sunday did, give him a safety net, AND let him know it's there. because at this point he felt that the plan was too risky and he cared too much

like honestly i think he hoped aventurine would read the note before putting on his "performance" and readjust accordingly. but then he didn't <3 and acheron had to remind him that it was still sitting in his pocket <3 if she hadn't said anything about it i don't think he would have opened it adgsmbfdndhfbkjjbg <3 oh i love a mess <3 anyway i think this serves as a suitable refute for the "dr. ratio was racist towards aventurine" sentiment that continues to fly around in some parts of the fandom, so? MOVING ON

i ended up talking about this already, but looking more closely at how ratio looks at the world was a biiiiiig part of why he grew on me So Much. it's all actually really noble and worth admiring. again, he just talks like a dick so it's easy to get confused LMFAO

he never received nous' recognition not just because he "cares too much" (as you'll see some people vaguely claim and then not elaborate), but because he fundamentally disagrees with the ideology that allows the genius society, the path of erudition, and even nous themself to exist.

there's like... a certain "threshold" of intelligence and knowledge that nous operates off of. the unknown, the near-or-actually-impossible to comprehend, things that the average person would never be able to grasp and would never care to try because it's simply beyond them - that's all nous cares about. but ratio doesn't believe this threshold exists. he doesn't believe in knowledge that cannot be taught. just to reiterate: he believes anyone can learn anything if someone teaches them, and they will care if they know someone will be there to teach them.

but if anyone can follow the footsteps of geniuses, then Genius is no longer a superior echelon of society. the end goal the erudition seeks is no longer "beyond the limits of mortal wisdom."

nous rejected ratio because he rejected them - long before he fully understood that he did so.

i think he only ever tried to seek their recognition because it was expected so highly of him. like, he was a prodigy child, absorbing new information and collecting phds at the speed of light. of course every adult around him was like, "oh yeah this kid's a future genius society member" and then they told him this. over and over. and he was like, Okay, so this is the path i'm supposed to embark on, and i must do it and i must succeed (or i'll let them down; i'll be a disappointment, a failure, a waste of resources and all the hopes and dreams everyone's pinned onto me.)

he spent a good few years trying and failing to conform to nous' surprisingly (ironically?) boxed-in mindset. but they ignored him, probably because they predicted that even IF they recognized him while he seemingly ascribed more closely to the erudition's beliefs, he would ultimately wander off and "waste" time trying to nurture the achievements of "mere" mortals instead. and then he had to sit there and be like ok i apparently fucking failed at the one thing i thought i was supposed to do with my life, What Now

and this results in the dr ratio we meet in game. still haughty, still has an attitude problem and a bad temper, still has a tendency to talk down to people (i think though at this point his condescending tone is more of a defense mechanism and a way of isolating himself from others before he is once again rejected from a "part" of society after trying, trying, and then Failing to conform to a box), but! considerably more humble and far more focused on others than himself. he cares, ok. he cares an awful fucking lot. he believes in the good of humanity. humanity's ability to do good, to grow... to find the answers to its problems, implement them, and save itself.

plus, "character that's very admirable and very kind and loving IN THEIR OWN WAY (<- this is important because ratio isn't any of these things in a traditional sense and that's another part of why i've come to like him; it's interesting) but is cursed to just sort of talk like a total jackass forever" is an extremely entertaining concept

one other thing that's less significant than realizing ^^^^^^^ALL OF THAT. GOD .but still played a big part in my warming up to him, is how fond he is of those stupid rubber ducks and the goofy poses his statues are in. and also how his very first introductory cutscene is him playing chess BADLY (😭😭😭😭) against himself. that speaks to a sense of whimsy and playfulness that he doesn't have much of an outlet for. which i find... cute. and an aspect of his character that's a ton of fun to play around with

IN CONCLUSION: i mean he's okay i guess

[tommykinard6]

I love your headcanons!

Why do you think Tommy has a difficult relationship with sex and how does that show?

Also do you have any more ideas about the emergency contact one? Like the first time they get a call from the hospital...

Yessss thank you so much for asking about those headcanons! I’ve been wanting to talk about these.

I actually just got another ask about the emergency contact and I’m going to go super in depth for that, so stay tuned!

But why do I think Tommy has a difficult relationship with sex? I’m so, so glad you asked. This is one of my biggest headcanons.

However! Please read with caution. TW: for a form of self h*rm involving sex, self hatred, and internalized homophobia.

Tommy was extremely closeted for most of his life. When he was at the 118, he couldn’t even accept himself. But at some point, he stopped being able to ignore it. For me, this might be when he realized he liked Sal (see my other post).

Now for some people, exploring your sexuality includes a *ahem* wild phase. To me, Tommy had two parts of this phase. The first one was…not great.

Tommy was a self loathing closeted man. He hated himself for being gay. He wanted to be “normal”. So when he stopped being able to ignore it, he thought he could “get it out of his system”. So he went to bars outside of LA (he wasn’t risking bumping into anyone he knew) and hooked up with any man who showed interest. He wasn’t picky. He was just more focused on getting out of this “phase”.

So he hooked up with a lot of men. And he didn’t care about himself at all. In fact, he out right hated himself every time. So it devolved. If something didn’t feel good, Tommy leaned into it because he saw it as punishment. He used sex to punish himself and to hurt himself.

I’m not quite sure about how he pulled himself out of it, but we’ll go with this. My idea is that he had a sexual partner who caught onto what was going on, that Tommy secretly hated something happening but refused to stop on his own. The partner shut down the event and when he called out, gently, Tommy on what was happening, Tommy broke down. The partner held him and listened to his garbled story and talked him through it. Instead of the hookup, they spent that night just talking, with the partner trying to get Tommy to see what was happening and get him out of the slump.

And it didn’t fix it. Tommy continued this pattern for a couple more hookups, but he started to get discontented and uncomfortable. Around this time maybe, the 118 got Bobby Nash and the dynamic started changing. Sal was gone and working with Hen, an openly queer firefighter, started to shift how he looked at himself.

So Tommy stopped the hookups and started working on himself. He couldn’t quite face himself still, but he worked on liking himself outside of his sexuality. He started laying down boundaries when he hooked up. And then he left the 118 and started therapy. He was ready to start over. He was tired of the pain and the self hate and the cycle he’d been stuck in for so long. He wanted what he’d seen others have. He saw Hen with her wife and he wanted a bond like that and he knew it could never be with a woman.

Skip forward all this time and he’s learned to be gentle with himself. He finally loves himself. He has embraced his sexuality. Maybe he’s still friendly with that past partner or maybe they never spoke again, idk. He’s had some relationships but nothing’s really stuck. Then he meets Evan Buckley.

He meets Evan Buckley and he feels the sun for the first time. And Evan is still figuring himself out and Tommy not only really likes him, but also wants to make sure Evan doesn’t make the same mistakes he did.

Does that answer the question? Let me sum it up.

Tommy used sex to punish himself and those were his first real experiences with guys. So even now, in healthier relationships and with better mindsets, he doesn’t do the hookup game anymore and is very shy of having sex too soon. He doesn’t have sex without knowing and trusting the person.

Y’all I have no idea if this made sense, but this is literally the premise of a story in my brain.

[pseudowho]

hi haitch 😩 i love ur work and kinda look up to you as a person bc your tenacity and fierce protectiveness over people you love/people in need. i wish i had more people in my life like that :( bc i suffer from really bad anxiety. sometimes i think it’s not so bad but then (like last night) im laying in my room and suddenly i can’t breathe n the walls are closing in n im bawling my eyes out. im scared to be on my own in college and idk how to deal w this esp when its hard for me to ask for help

Firstly, and most importantly, your own ability to act as an agent of change is greater than you believe.

When you're stunk in the anxious, self-loathing spiral of feeling convinced that you're powerless, or thinking that your improved well-being relies 100% on who you have around you, you do yourself a disservice.

How far have you gotten with identifying the triggers for your anxiety? I know that's hard when it's generalised anxiety, but hear me out; I'm sure you have that constant background anxiety, and then spikes of heightened anxiety, right? What sets off the spikes and panic attacks (as it sounds like you have them)?

Have you approached doctors for help? If so, have they been useful? Have you tried anything in the way of cognitive behavioural therapies (there are loads of free apps and courses)? Have you stopped hating yourself for long enough to realise that you deserve to be helped? And that this isn't just how you are, and you can find a way out?

This is all visceral to hear, I know. But hear me out. Identifying the pathological thought patterns that anxiety shoves onto you, and looking at them objectively, can be quite freeing.

Write down what you notice when you're anxious; "self loathing", "claustrophobia", "perceived inability to interact with others". Stick it somewhere private, then when you're ready and feeling your strongest, stand back and look at it. Identify your symptoms as symptoms, and not personality traits. Because anxiety symptoms are not your personality, and that helps in knowing that it's fixable, and not just 'who you are'.

Being on your own does not always need to equate to being lonely. I think being on your own can feel like an enormous burden, if you believe that others around you are a reliable tool for easing your anxiety...but if I know anything of suffering it myself, and caring for so many who have suffered it, the true core of anxiety is within.

You need to build the self-care the infrastructure, before you can invite workers to the site.

Quite honestly, I believe you can do this. The ability to overcome anxiety and panic attacks can be in your hands. And this isn't in some toxic positivity, privileged or naive way. As in, it genuinely is. Being able to see my own anxiety in this way has been life-changing.

You can want your life to be better and make that happen.

You're at college...have you found any societies? Any hallmates or housemates? Anyone at all? People are kinder than you think. Reach out.

But, you are in charge. That's a good thing-- imagine your life being in the hands of unreliable others? No. Better off in yours.

You can do it, baby. Promise.

Love, always,

-- Haitch xxx

[lorelaiblair]

My thoughts as I rewatch Wednesday, part 3

Part 1 / Part 2

-xavier has the weathervane and wants to trade with ajax, but ajax goes to uriah’s heap with enid, why didn’t he trade? he is apparently xavier’s best friend and he probably knows what tyler did to him?

-why does donavan hate outcasts so much? he was once married to and had a kid with one? what happened to his wife? does he recognize the hyde attack patterns?

-seen people say wednesday manuipulates enid into trading assignments with her and that literally makes no sense. enid was so excited to spend time with ajax! it was a fair trade!

-eugene with yoko and bianca, i love that weirdo

(took a break 12 minutes in to make brownies and listen to the ologies episode about thanatology, just thought y’all should know that)

-i wish wednesday had severely hurt those pilgrims (i love lucas later on, but my dude??)

-wednesday cleaning his vomit is disgusting.. please please stop, he is capable of cleaning himself off

-“what the fudge are you doing in here missy?!” stop. stop it. never speak again. (i don’t really have a problem with real/other people saying this so idk why it bothers me so much when she does)

-enid and ajax are not two different species (in the way they’re implying at least) they’re outcasts, they’re somewhat popular, they have the sameish friend group, they fit. this conversation doesn’t fit them together, it does fit considering them with other people though. it fits considering wednesday.

-“i can’t believe he asked me!!” honey, my sweet girl, he didn’t.

-“who i speak to is none of your business” damn right!!

-GOODY ISNT A NAME. GOODY IS NOT A NAME!

-hate xavier, all my homies hate xavier

-he never believes her. he doesn’t believe her once without his own confirmation and then even when she proves herself right he STILL doesn’t believe her and then later he claims he always believed her. he lies straight up

-“are you mansplaining my power?” yeah, he really is

-“my dad the expert” YOU DONT LIKE YOUR DAD, YOU HAVE DADDY ISSUES AND MAYBE ITS WHY YOU’RE SUCH A SHIT PERSON, SO WHY ARE YOU AS A MAN WITH DADDY ISSUES USING WHAT HE HAS SAID TO PUT DOWN OTHER PEOPLE?!??

-enid clawing the side of that bus, my love, my girl, she is everything

-why does weems hate morticia so much??? please i need to know

-no because kimbott the therapist frfr scrapes roadkill off of the street and puts them in wedding dresses..

-how does donavan, a man once married to a hyde, not recognize a hyde when he sees one??

[kazumist]

EPISODE 7 ★ FUZZY FEELING

FAKE IT TILL WE MAKE IT — A SCARAMOUCHE SMAU

masterpost / prev ep / next ep / timestamps don't matter

scaramouche must have been crazy.

seriously? a date? it was the last thing you expected! however, if you were going to pretend to be a couple, going on dates is actually a given. and like you said in your message to him:

we both have to suck it up.

even if that means having your first date with the guy you hate.

luckily enough, the awkward ride to the aquarium ended faster than you expected. but now that you’re here, how does one enjoy an aquarium date anyway? or what does one even talk about on their first date in general?

these were the questions running through both of your heads as you mindlessly wandered around.

“hey,” scaramouche starts.

“hmm?”

“this fish looks a lot like childe for some reason.”

when you turned to look at what he was looking at, you seriously had to hold back a loud laugh. because why does the fish actually look like childe? “that’s a clownfish, right?” you ask him.

“you know about these things?”

“not really; i just watched finding nemo back then as a kid.”

“oh wait, here’s the description. yeah, it’s a clownfish, and it seems like even their description fits childe even more,” scaramouche says, pointing his head at a podium nearby with his hands inside his pockets.

“clownfish are active and territorial fish with an erratic swimming pattern who sometimes appear to be doing acrobatics while defending the area around their anemone," you read aloud. “see? it fits him perfectly.”

“are you saying childe seems to do acrobatics sometimes?”

“no, i’m saying that he’s way too hyper for his own good.”

“isn’t that supposed to be venti, though?”

“they’re practically the same kind; does it really matter who is who?”

you laugh at his response. 

maybe this isn’t so bad. just maybe.

with the sun almost setting, your little trip to the aquarium ends, and you both decide to stop by a cafe on the way home.

but unfortunately, the awkward tension comes back.

what now? are you supposed to say, “hey, i had fun today,” and just move along? are you supposed to ask, “so how did the date go for you? did you have fun like i did?” you couldn’t find the right words to say, but you couldn’t stand this awkward atmosphere either.

“i… kinda had fun today.”

can this guy read minds or something?

"likewise."

time flew by faster than you expected, and now you were walking out of the cafe with scaramouche. “thanks for today, even though i was kinda against it at first,” you said.

“i hope you realize that we have to do this often if we really want to be convincing.”

“yeah, yeah, i get it. give me a break. who would’ve thought that i would be going on a date with you, of all people?”

“why do you sound so icked by the thought of going out with me?” he rolled his eyes.

“because i am icked by it, smart ass.”

“says the one who equally enjoyed the day like i did?”

“sorry, my pride is too high to make me admit that i actually enjoyed your company.”

he shakes his head at your response. how very… likely of you to say such a thing.

“i guess this is goodbye, then?” scaramouche asks.

“yeah. why? do you not want the day to end?”

“don’t put words into my mouth.”

“you didn’t really deny it, you know.”

“why are you like this?” 

“why shouldn’t i be like this?”

from your peripheral vision, you could see a familiar sight of blue-ish white hair as well as a blonde walking nearby. since they didn’t really know that this wasn’t real, you acted out of impulse. but what did you do exactly?

you kissed scaramouche on the cheek and waved him goodbye, just like that.

extra notes.

i didn't expect this chapter to be so long uhm idk im 50/50 on the narrations bc deadass it was hard 2 write for me ... OTL

theyre kinda getting close! emphasize on kinda though

more silly little romance in the next chapter haha pls stay tuned

synopsis.

what happens when scaramouche, your rival since the first year of highschool, had some annoying admirers on his back? easy—he (fake) dates you to shoo them off. nothing can possibly go wrong with faking a relationship with the guy you hate, right?

spoiler: apparently, a lot can go wrong.

taglist (open): @niiheng @yinyinggie @ilyuu @veekoko @motherscrustytoenailclippings @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @akairaindrops @kichiyoshi @lxkeeeee @user11918163805279 @sketcheeee @yukiipc @kyouzki @quokkatss @ynverse @yuyumaru @danhenglovebot @sheep-from-rad @gekkow @aeongiies @scararaw @beriiov @thenightsflower @simpforsubmissivemen @sakurapeach @akxtagawaxryxn0sxke @naheana @supernova25 @mitsu-moshi @yelleloww @kiyomi-hoku @kazemiya @theblueblub @lazy-sanns

[sunofpandora]

Virago: Chapter 3 part 2

Neteyam x fem na’vi!omaticaya!reader

Characters:

Ka’lik- (like you would pronounce “Malik”) Y/n’s father, deceased, a warrior and hunter of the 

omaticaya clan. A teacher to young warriors undergoing iknimaya.

Zensira-deceased, Y/n’s mother, spider's adoptive mother, a strong hunter and the best singer in the omaticaya clan, and a teacher to young hunters.

Kailo-(Y/n’s ikran. Your ikran is a male)

Popiti-(tuk’s best friend according to the visual dictionary)

(Also idk how many of you know this but Jake’s ikran’s name is canonically ‘Bob’.)

(WARNINGS!

Sharing a sleeping hammock with the opposite gender (non-romantically)-

Neytiri hating on spider/ mentions of insecurities, heartbreak, war,/ fluff/ angst/ mentions of hunting, killing animals, mentions of therapy, military, ptsd, romance, pining, use of military terms/codewords/  Let me know if I missed anything.

Authors note:

This is part two of the chapter 3 trilogy. ‘Aim your arrow at his heart as he holds it out for you to ruin.’ I wonder what happens next?

                                                                   V I R A G O         

Chapter 3;

Aim your arrow at his heart as he holds it out for you to ruin.

Part 2

Y/n’s pov-

Word count: 28k (split)

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

Y/n’s pov (still hunting with jake)

“Killer shot, kiddo. Two for one.”

Jake chuckles as he ruffles your hair, carrying the yerik meat in the sack thrown over his shoulder.

Before he can pull his hand away, it gets caught on one of the stray hairs in your braids. You wince, squeezing your eyes shut. You were always a bit tenderheaded.

“Ow-”

“Oh shit. Hold on, kid.”

Jake quickly untangles his bracelet with your hair, smoothing down your braids for good measure.

He chuckles as you keep walking, matching his pace.

“Sorry about that, kiddo.” You shrug, your eyes now focusing on the culprit that laid on Jake’s wrist.

Its a bracelet, but not like any kind you’ve seen before.

It was woven with a leather string that looks like it was falling apart at the seams, and the small, braided fronds that held some sharp looking crystal chips. Worthy of impaling someone. Especially the extra long, jagged, one that stuck out on the left side of his wrist.

You weren’t at the thought of just wearing something like that the thought of the poking and pushing of the sharp edges into your skin, almost seemed unimaginable. 

You would think, after being in his life for the last 18 years, you’d by now have a complete understanding of the inner workings of Jake Sully. 

That would include his wardrobe choices. 

To your knowledge, Jake didn’t usually wear some thing unless it had a functional purpose. So why on pandora would he wear this death trap on his wrist?

“Where did you get that?” you ask, attempting to make your burning curiosity not sound interrogating.

Jake Glances down at his wrist before looking at you.

“ oh, this? Tuk gave it to me. Just a few days ago.”

Well that explains it.

It slips out of your mouth before you can actually stop yourself. One thing about you that not many knew is that you were quite impulsive at times. It’s faded throughout the years. Disappearing under where age drew some extra lines and scars on your skin. But mostly? You got better at hiding it.

“That looks painful.”

You slap yourself mentally before you can even apologize, Jake laughs.

“It is, but I promised her I wouldn’t take it off.”

You figured, and you admire that about Jake. His ability to keep his promises.

Being a dad meant sacrifices. Alas, what kind of love didn’t?

You don’t think it’s a real love unless it has you scrambling to reach your redemption. 

Love is envious of the granted calmed magnitude of simple pleasures.

You hopped over a rock as you kept pace with Jake.

“Well, you aren’t the only one wearing Tuks threads.”

You show off your wrist and the bracelet Tuk made for you, when you first moved in the high camp, and started living with the sully family.

The patterns clearly juvenile, evident in the mismatched colors and diversely shaped beads. Vibrant and loud.

Jake feigns a scoff, a smug smile drawing it’s place on his lips.

“Oh, I think I win this time. I have her latest piece.”

He mocked your movements, showing off his own wrist as he placed the sack on the ground next to him, retiring to sit on a ledge as he refilled his water flask by the small creek. The sounds of water trickling down the stream make your wears twitch with the familiar symphony.

You take a seat next to him, rolling your eyes.

“Don’t think you’re special. the poor child is probably just taking pity on you. A mighty war hero, such as yourself should be given newer things to make up for his old age.”

Jake splashes water on you, and you lean back into the tree. Your laughter refreshes the air, disrupting the once quiet aura.

Jake can’t help but crack a smile. He fidgets with the monstrosity of a thing. It truly was painful to wear. The way it poked and prodded at his skin he even had a small cut on the back of his hand from where the extra large crystalline bead had abnormally stuck out of its place. 

He looks back at the sky as your laughter dies down the air, regaining its quiet wholesomeness.

“one of the things I love most about the Navi, is their appreciation for one another.”

You blindly scooted forward. Your peaked interest is now obvious. Thrashing like a freshly hunted fish in the hollower corridors of your brain.

The blazing white raw rays of the sunlight now hued itself a muted golden through the canopy of the rainforest, as the cerulean of the sky darkened ever so slightly with the fast approaching afternoon.

 “Back on earth, humans don’t wear jewelry made by their children. Hell, they don’t care much about things like that at all.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, before speaking once again.

“What were your parents like?”

Jake’s eyes widen a bit, as his gaze focuses on you.

Something or someone made of old memories and coppered flesh awakens in Jake.

Ruins of something, perhaps someone crippled and crinkled in the cramped corners of Jake’s mind.

Like the skin of a shadow. A story with a silenced narration. Transparency and uncertainty.

Jake Sully sometimes swore he saw ghosts.

It kept him up at night.

The lingering smells of smoke and ash, blood and sweat, the once radiant green of the short plains surrounding hometree withered in a gray dressing gown of grief.

Before he learned to see.

He grasped the essence of life: the  immunology of pandora. The power, the secret to growth, a true appreciation for the relative importance of things, order, and balance. For Jake, time was dwelling itself on a melting clock. Things change when your sent light years away from your home planet. You realize you're living the very days your younger self once dreamed of, or you're still waiting for that fabled, future time.

Not too late to forget the sins of his past.

Some say ‘to sin is to be a human’

Well. I guess that doesn’t really apply to poor Jake. Does it now?

With the corpse of a culture now forgotten, the fallen hometree rots.

Jake prayed to eywa his memories could rot with it.

Ghosts aren’t real. Are they? 

If they are, they certainly aren’t a figure under a white sheet that make spooky noises and only appears on Halloween, no. 

Ghosts are lingering souls who cling to the youth of their nostalgic memories.

Ghosts don’t belong in the light because they can reminisce in the past far easier in the darkness. 

Ghosts don’t like the day time. 

The daytime is filled with the vexatious luminescence we call sunlight. 

Sunlight provides close to no sanctuary from the world.

No shadows are cast, no contingent comfort in the darkness.

The stars that scatter across the sky carry memories.

The rain travels throughout the dreary dark skies. Scorched with mist.

Jake still wakes up in a cold sweat, after memories of hometree’s destruction haunts his dreams. He could still hear Mo’at’s low wails ring in his ears, Grace cursing under her breath as each breath drew out like a shaky pencil line drawn on a concrete surface.

Besides seeing them, Jake might as well have been a ghost.

A shell of something he once was.

Jake swallows before leaning back a bit more.

“I don’t remember much about them.

My father’s name is Damin. My mother’s name is Camille.”

You nodded. trying to visualize a human family. Ones who walked, talked, breathed and looked like spider.

“Didn’t you have a brother?”

Jake nodded.

“Thomas. Well, we called him Tommy.”

You leaned back with him. Taking a swig out of the water flask he offered you.

“You’re younger sibling. Just like me.”

Jake nodded, raising his flask in a celebratory manner.

“Cheers to that.”

You gazed up at the trees, your fingers tracing the patterns in the foliage above.each leaf, each ray of light that slithered past the cracks in the quilted hues of green.

“Do you ever miss him?”

It comes out as a whisper. it’s soft spoken.

There’s a displaced sense of comfort that swallows Jake. Like a sheen of a cold Summer Sun encompassed the air.

“Sometimes I think I see him. When I see Neteyam, and Lo’ak.”

Brothers are interesting creatures.

Like a plant forever tangled at the roots. Siblings can be soulmates. Not the romantic kind.

Someone to forever reminisce in ‘remember when’ stories and sun bursting fresh patches of grass, trampled by a children’s feet.

Invisible strings unsevered. 

“Guess I’ll always carry a piece of him with me.”

Jake awkwardly chuckles as he gestures to his body. The body that was meant for his brother.

“Seems to be a common theme with you.” You reiterate. Gesturing to Jake’s uncomfortable bracelet.

He nods, pointing to his beaded leather necklace. Much neater than Tuk’s handiwork.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jake take it off. Ever since you were a child.

You knew the small green beads were from when Jake was training for his Iknimiya, gifted to him by Neytiri.

You couldn’t help but think how sweet it was that he wore some thing of hers. Even after all these years, the beads must’ve been worn out, lost a bit of shape. And yet, he wore them with pride.

You start to remember kiri’s words from earlier. How she said you reminded her of the stories she would hear about her adopted mother in her youth. The stories of her bravery. Her courage, her defiance, her days of battle and heroism during the war.

You had always idolized Neytiri. When you were a small child, your favorite stories were the ones of her, your mother, and Sylwanin causing trouble around the clan’s hometree as a child. Your mother told you that you were just like Neytiri during her childhood. Always the wild child who came back from playing with sticks in your hair and mud on your elbows.

It wasn’t just her rebelliousness you mirrored, apparently.

She carried herself with constant bouts of compassion. For her people, her home, the forest. She was made of a fire that could never truly be extinguished. 

Violence was never a delight, but for you and neytiri, it was a familiar sentiment. The substances of your souls were intertwined with grief-ridden impulses that were strengthened by agony.

War was no excuse for turning people into weapons. But in all it’s horror and fire hazard, something as beautiful as you was forged from the flames.

You and neytiri were stories woven by the same threads. Both of you Losing the people you love most, then seeking vengeance with no bounds.

“What was she like?”

You whisper, leaning towards Jake a bit more.

“Neytiri. What was she like when she was younger?”

Jake scoffed. Putting his hands to rest behind his head, his elbows stretched on either side of his head.

“Oh boy. Where do I start, kiddo?”

You shrugged, getting comfortable in your spot.

“Wherever you see best.”

He thought for a moment.

“What was your very first impression of her?”

You prompted.

Jake was silent before blinking.

“Uh….oh.

Intimidating.”

Your face went blank. Expecting something similar to a story or a thousand words of her beauty and strength.

“Really? That’s it?”

Jake shrugged.

“For lack of a better word. Yes, she was intimidating. She scared the shit out of me.”

You huffed. Crossing your arms.

“C’mon. I want the details.”

He chuckled.

“Well, she made quite the impression. she tried to kill me.”

  You raised an eyebrow.

“And that was attractive?”

“Yes. Very much so.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle.

You thought of a younger neytiri. Trying to place yourself in the shadow of a once looming star.

Jake cleared his throat, speaking again.

“You know, I think I really found out what love meant when I met her.”

His words sink in for a moment. An unfamiliar shudder that’s not quite discomforting travels up your spine.

“How so?”

You ask. Jake thinks for a moment.

“I never wanted kids back on earth. I never wanted a wife, or a white picket fence life.

Well, I did at one point. Then I met war. And war wasn’t friendly. Because war showed me that some people fall in love, get hitched, have kids, and fight to protect for the people they love when they end up dying in a war anyways. And somewhere on the other end of that spectrum is an enemy staring at you through the scope of his sniper. And when he kills you, he kills a father, or a mother, or a sister or a brother. And then it just repeats.”

War was no unfamiliarity. War made you who you were now.

And you didn’t like who you were now. Something trapped in a shell of a static shade of white. Convulsing with hunger. Thrashing with anger and agitation.

The worst thing about war is that once you live through it, you never really live past it. You can survive war. That doesn’t mean the war ends. All your potential was bred from destruction and the absence of stability in your life. Everything being ripped away burned or killed. You start to purge yourself with thoughts of violence that is sickeningly soothing. Gutted in the lament light of a scorching moonlight, forever aching for the tethered tenderness of the sun.

“No one wins in a war.”

You mutter, leaning back, your head resting on Jake’s forearm.

He nods, patting the side of your waist.

“A was a marine. A dumb grunt who thought the na’vi were just talking to trees and praying their own damn brain cells away.”

You fidgeted with your bracelet, and stared up at the clouds,

Jake spoke again.

“Your a warrior. I’m a soldier. But we both have blood on our hands.”

You stared at your palms. Much smaller, slimmer, lithe hands compared to Jake. Yet, scars still littered your skin.

“I don’t see it. The blood.”

You whispered.

Jake gently rubbed your back.

“Sometimes it doesn’t what to be seen.”

You blink up at him. Gazing at the taller man.

“I thought love was my greatest enemy. Because I was afraid I saw too much shit to love anyone properly. Why do that to them? Why waste their time?”

That hit harder than you wanted it too.

Love was your greatest weakness.

But was it, really?

War had made you unloveable. Because you watched people love each other only to loose one another in war.

Because you loved before a war, and he weakened you.

And then he stopped loving you before the war, and that weakened you.

Because your parents died when the war returned, and that weakened you.

And weakened, afraid, angry, broken, and sprawled and stretched bones far too thin to be soothed. Cussing, growling, a primal cry of violence and grief with shocking fluidity.

Unclenched and hinged on arrowheads and bowstrings.

You found yourself unloveable.

Because who would ever love something broken?

Something made of stone?

Unclenched and hinged on arrowheads and bowstrings 

Jake chuckled to himself his eyes fluttering shut. It’s not a happy sound. It’s hollow and thin. 

But there’s a small sliver of silvered-sunlight under the heavy hued grey.

“ I will never forget. One day we were training, she was making me practice my archery targets. The clan was out and about, doing their chores, weaving foraging all that jazz.

She was giving me instructions, and then suddenly her voice just…Trailed off. I looked where she was staring and her eyes were locked on these two little girls. Two sisters playing in the Stream chasing each other, laughing and splashing and wrestling around.

And for the first time ever, I saw this…this woman..

This beautiful, blue, powerful, stoic- alien of a woman who I thought was just..perfection in every single aspect of the word, looked so…

Fragile.”

It’s the last word you would ever use to describe Neytiri. But when he utters it, a certain string of a an unfamiliar note melodically tugs in place of your heart you didn’t know existed.

“Fragile?”

The words come out soft and surreal, hoarse as you whisper it.

“Like, the entire time I had known her, she had been wearing this…mask. A disguise. And when she looked at those little girls…the mask fell.”

He continued without an ounce of hesitance.

“And I realized that this woman was once a girl. A child. A child who had been through war and war was the one who forced that mask on her in the first place. Really, she wanted to protect what she had left before anyone dared to take it away. That beneath all that anger and resentment was someone who was shy, and laughed loudly and deep down beneath her confidence and attitude she was still that child, really just a girl who missed her older sister. Her favorite smell is rain and she especially loves it when you can see the small cracks of sunlight through the trees, and she had this game with her sister where they would see who could walk the farthest in the forest by only stepping into the patches of light. She loves it when the flowers bloom a shade of yellow, and she’s kinda insecure about herself sometimes and fuck I really don’t know how she could ever be, she’s just so perfect-“

Jake stops himself, realizing he’s rambling, a moment of silence goes by and he rubs the back of his head..

“I guess it’s that I always thought war made me so ugly. And that no one could love me romantically. And then I met her, and she had lived through something so terrible and traumatic, and even after the war she was beautiful and worth loving..maybe I was worth loving too.”

It was more than you ever bargained for. War didn’t always ruin. Sometimes it rearranged.

Somewhere in Jake you saw someone else. Someone besides yourself. Burdened by war and suffering.

You saw a man. A man who loved a woman so much he gave up everything he ever knew to be with her.

Something erased into nothingness and replaced by shifting shadows embedded in an unfamiliar idealism that frightened you because it didn’t feel safe.

Eternally devastating. A tormented romance of a man who holds a woman by the hips and trails a line of grievances on her skin with his lips while she holds a knife to his throat.

A woman who only held that knife because she had seen so many things shaded in a blood stained red, any other color seemed unfamiliar to her.

A woman who abuses herself by endlessly denying herself any ounce of affection because she believes with her whole heart she will never be worthy of his love. Even more so, because she was afraid of it.

Or worse, she’ll ruin it.

Afraid of how badly his touch stung her the first time to ever love again.

Afraid loving because what good was love if war would just take it away from her?

Bred to fight.

Born to protect everyone but herself.

But it’s never satisfied. Is it? The thoughts that thirsted the back of her mind. Thoughts of him. 

Fears. Thoughts. Lust. Love.

This wall around you was a survival mechanism.

To protect others from coming in. To protect yourself from coming out. From loving again.

In this story you saw a man who unraveled every shade of rarely rested red that sensed her suffering and entrapped her in this self loathing pattern.

You saw a man that said he loved her even as she threatened to end his life.

Because he knows the only reason she would end his life is because she feared he would end hers first.

Not by killing her. By worshipping her every breath. By begging her to love herself the way he does. And what happens then? When she loves herself? 

Who will judge her? Who will keep her in line? Who will call out her every hitched breath? Her every fumble and stutter? Who does it better than her?

What will she be if she loves herself? His? No. No she belongs to herself and her own loathing.

But would her fire refuse its reign of radiance in the confined cage of his love?

Maybe some enemies are only enemies because one of them thinks that they’re enemies.

Maybe lovers are only lovers because love is a sacrificial abstraction.

You could never find love if you never knew loss.

All of this was really just a coincidence of meaningless metaphors that cluttered your brain but why did you keep coming back to thinking about that man.

That man who was one his knees for you. That man who said the same thing over and over as you held a knife to his throat.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Why? Why does he love you? What is there to love?

Deprivation, burdened accountability, self hatred and inadequacy, all of deaths favored methods.

You turn to Jake, detaching your thoughts for a moment.

“How did she ever forgive you? For how you hurt her?”

Your words are rushed and spoken in a hitch of a breath.

Jake shakes his head, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Sweetheart, can I give you some cold, hard truth?”

You nod.

He speaks softly.

“Love ain’t easy. It’s not real love unless you fight for it. And sometimes loving someone who feels unloved and broken isn’t easy. Its especially not easy when you screwed up so badly you lost their trust once. Because trust is a fragile thing.

It’s delicate. And once someone gives it to you, you never, ever do a damn thing to harm it.

But we’re flawed creatures sometimes.

We make mistakes that sometimes seem unforgivable, and walls are built to keep us out.

But you wanna know a secret?”

You nod, waiting.

“Loving someone who feels like no one could ever love them takes time. And protecting someone who protects everyone but themselves isn’t easy.

Sometimes it’s all about letting them climb your walls until you decide it’s safe again.”

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

Neteyam’s Pov:

Lo’ak is stacking up the now empty baskets to the side corner, while placing his and spider’s finished arrows for y/n in a new basket.

Spider went home a few hours ago, and y/n and my father have not returned yet.

Tuk jumps up and down twice, tugging on my arm, a slight whine in her voice.

“Where’s mom?”

“She’s in the hut with Grandmother, she will return soon.”

I try to gently push her to the other side of the tent.

“Go play with your toys. Or, go have Lo’ak sharpen your knife. It’s probably in need of it anyways.”

Lo’ak shoots me a glare. Clearly not very pleased with the fact that I’m putting him on babysitting duty for once.

Tuck grabs her hexapede toy y/n had carved for her a few months back, shoving the infamous Toruk toy in Lo’aks hands.

That old toy has seen better days, I’ll be honest.

“Here Lo’ak. You be the Toruk.”

She huffs, still not very satisfied with her lack of people to play with at the moment.

“No way. Go play with Neteyam.”

Lo’ak swats Tuk away, glaring at me.

I glare back, gesturing to the new basket I was busy weaving.

“I’m busy right now. C’mon Lo’ak just play a quick game with her. Kiri will return soon.”

Lo’ak rolls his eyes before turning to Tuk.

“How about a story time?”

Tuk clap’s excitedly and jumps up once. 

“Yes please!”

Lo’ak clears his throat, crossing his legs.

“Did you know, that looong before your time, mom found you in an egg in a nest and stole you from a bird?”

“Lo’ak! Don’t tell her that!”

 Tuk gasps, a whimper that’s barely audible following the sound.

I smack Lo’ak on the back of his head.

“Mama did not find me in a nest!”

“Uh yeah. She actually did.”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did NOT!”

Lo’ak shrugs, casually checking his nails and shifting on his feet.

“Oh yeah? Where do you think mom and dad found Kiri?”

Tuk crosse her smaller arms, 

“From Grace Aju-Ages-Agun-Agis-“

“Augustine.”   

I pat her back, correcting her gently.

She nods, proud of herself for trying.

Lo’ak shakes his head.

“Nope. Mom found you in a nest and she found Kiri too. 

And, 7 years ago you came out of the woods, and they’ve been trying to domesticate you ever since.”

It’s a moment later when a familiar presence enters the ensuing chaos between the two youngest of my siblings. 

“Grandmother!”

Tuk runs to our grandmother, who stands wearing her usual beaded red and yellow shawl that drapes over her elbows and falls to her waist, the long detailed interweaved maroon colored loincloth falling to her shins.

She embraces Tuktirey, patting her on the head with her other hand gently placed on her back.

I’ve always had a close relationship with my grandmother.

I am her first born grandson. The first child she watched her daughter love.

When I was small, I loved watching my grandmother work in the Tsahik tent while I sat with her, eagerly listening to her stories.

I loved my parents' stories of moving forward with our clans pain, and the moral compass they provided. 

But truth be told, I always preferred older stories. The ones my grandmother told me, quietly as she worked.

Times before the humans interacted with our clan. Stories of the powerful past generations of olo’eyktans before my father and grandfather, stories of hometree before it’s annihilation. Stories of great na’vi warriors and ancient battlements.

My grandmother and I had one, very particular trait in common.

We loved gossip every now and then, alas very shamefully.

It’s frowned upon for respectable clan leaders to partake in such things indistinguishable to gossip and rumors that flutter around the clan on feather-like whispers.

It’s easier to hide something when you hide it with someone.

Every now and then I get ‘scraped up’ on one of my hunts. Usually an arm or a skinned knee, and I end up having to visit the Tsahik of our clan, and I may or may not take the time to exchange little fragments of ‘scandals’ that I hear around, sometimes even in other clans.

Is it a good habit? No.

But my grandmother often finds ways to make up for the both of us. Everyone needs to indulge a bit once in a full moon.

“Grandmother, Lo’ak told me mama found me in a nest!”

My grandmother gasps dramatically.

“Lo’ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan! You know better than that.”

The whole tent is silent for a moment, all except for the gentle thuds of Turk’s tail flicking against the ground triumphantly as she sticks her tongue out at Lo’ak, and the ever so quiet mumble of ‘snitch’ leaving Lo’aks lips, until my grandmother speaks.

“You know we were saving the news for when she turns 12.”

Lo’ak rolls on the ground laughing and Tuk races out of the tent, screaming for our mother in distress.

Lo’ak stumbles over to our grandmother, swinging an arm around her, slightly off balance due to all of his laughing.

“Eywa, grams. Did I mention that your my favorite grandmother.”

“I am your only grandmother, boy.”

“And you’re still my favorite.”

Mo’at swats him away and hands him the basket on her hip of freshly grinded herbs for him to tend to.

“Put this in the back, on your mother’s spread of salves for me.”

Lo’ak nods, still snickering to himself, taking the basket and quickly turning to complete her request. 

She stretched out her arms, getting ready to sit down, a small wince appearing on her face.

“nìktungzup, (careful) grandmother, let me help you.”

I gently hold her arm, assisting her to sit cross legged on the ground.

She scoffs. 

“I do not need assistance. I survived raising your mother.”

I rolled my eyes playfully, and she eventually thanks me. 

My mother enters shortly after, carrying a distressed Tuk in her arms.

“Lo’ak. Did you tell your sister she came from an egg?”

Lo’ak shakes his head, shrugging.

“No. I told her you found her in a nest.”

My ears perk flicker when I notice Kiri emerging from behind my mother, tucking under the tent flap wearing a blank expression. 

My mother places Tuk down, who jogs over to my grandmother. Mother then freezes for a moment, sniffing the air, her tail flicking.

“Lo’ak-

Did you bring that sky demon in the marui!?”

“He was helping me make arrows for y/n’s hut tonight!”

Lo’ak throws his hands up in defense, still evading my mother’s mercy.

“For eywa’s sake! Have you no respect for the rules I have in place!?”

She hisses in annoyance, and as the bickering starts to simmer into background noise, I find myself watching Kiri. The one I’ve been looking for all day.

She clears her throat, shifting on her feet.

“I’m gonna go for a walk..”

She trails off, her eyes flickering between Lo’ak and my mother, neither of them sparing her even a blink of attention.

Grandmother calls for her, but she’s already escaped out of view from any of us.

As she walks away, I see my opportunity to speak to her about y/n’s words last night trail behind her.

My grandmother looks up from where her and Tuk sat, her eyes following where Kiri once stood.

She sighs.

“Neteyam. Can you accompany her please-“

She doesn’t even finish before I grab my knife off the small table and jog after Kiri. 

 Kiri turns a few corners, weaving around the now settling down high camp as sunset teased its way onto the forest of Pandora. Unleashing its blanket of warmth and violent colors with its army of clouds and weapons forged from a painted sky attacked the world above. The warm afternoon set onto my shoulders as I skipped over a few rocks unevenly coating the ground of the stronghold. The light cowers just shy of the tops of the mountains as I follow her outside, onto on of the small outstretches of a grassy valley, side by side with the back of high camp’s inner cave.

With the noise and exerted liveliness now sinking into the mere substratosphere of my senses, my attention is now on Kiri.

She finally takes notice of my presence, turning around to face me.

Her eyebrow raised as she stared at me, a bit puzzled.

I clear my throat.

“Mind if I join you?”

She shrugs,

“Not at all.”

Kiri gently brushes her fingertips across the petals of some stemless flowers, peaking through the vines that now forged themselves to grow on a natural stone boulder. 

Watching Kiri interact with the world around her was fascinating.

Sometimes she touched the plants so gently, so attentively and fragile as if they were speaking to her, and she never dared to interrupt.

I shifted on my feet, trying to figure out a way to start this conversation that was probably not going to end in my favor.

She notices the flick of my tail, side glancing at me before turning her back towards me. I smile sheepishly.

“Is that a new anklet? It’s beautifully-“

“What do you want, Neteyam?”

I frown when she catches onto me faster than I predicted.

“I’m just complimenting you. I compliment all my siblings.”

She gave me a blank stare, clearly unimpressed.

“Uh huh. Sure.”

I sigh, leaning on the boulder closest to me.

“Okay, I give up.”

Kiri scoffs.

“Before you’ve even tried? That’s not very mighty warrior behavior.”

She rubs my shoulder playfully, now stepping forward to occupy the place next to me.

“C’mon. You can talk to me.”

I’m quiet for a moment, as I finally make eye contact.

“It’s about Y/n.”

Kiri stiffens for a moment. Something invisible taking the shape of armor climbing her skin. Some urge to keep your heart out of reach from me, I assume.

She internally mediates on my words for a moment before groaning softly.

“Neteyam. I’m not speaking to you about this-“

She starts to walk away, before she’s stop at my almost frantic movements.

“Wait- please. Kiri. You’re the only one I can speak to. It’s been killing me inside all damn day.”

She takes a breath before turning around, facing me once again.

“Okay. Fine. But don’t waste me time. On with it, then.”

She gestures for me to talk. it’s very rare occasion that I talk before I even register the words leaving my mouth. Maybe it’s because I’m panicking.

“I heard you and Y/n speak last night-“

She cuts me off right there. A hand smacking my chest as her eyes widened.

“You. Did. What?”

I gulp, looking down.

“Kiri, listen please.”

“Eywa begone with this bullshit-! You stalker! What are you, watching her now while she sleeps!?”

I wave my hands around to try and regain the more rationalized attention.

“No! I’m not stalking her. Just listen, please-“

There’s a rather common misconception that Kiri doesn’t take after either of my parents simply because she was not born of either my mother or my fathers love. But damn, if she didn’t have my mother's protectiveness.

She crossed her arms, glaring up at me.

“I’m not letting you hurt her again, Neteyam”

I wince, taking a step back.

“Kiri, please. Just listen. I want to fix things-

No. I want to fix everything. I’ve been hating myself for what I’ve done to her. I don’t deserve anything less than everything you are saying to me right now, I know better than anyone. I never, ever meant to hurt her..”

Kiri paused for a moment. Her eyes softened ever so slightly as I mentioned how much self-loathing this has inflicted on me.

She sighed, rubbing her palms down her face.

“Then what happened, exactly. Because the way I saw it, you acted as if she didn’t exist for months and then all the sudden her parents die and you feel bad about it.”

I shook my head, my shoulders slumping as I defeatedly sat down on a rock.

She hesitantly sat next to me, her voice softer now. Absent of the anger she once expressed.

“What happened, Neteyam?”

I sigh, thinking about where to begin.

“I loved her. I loved her so much, Kiri. I still do. My entire world has been spiraling around with her as its center. It swallowed me whole, it drowned me-“

I paused, gazing up at the now darkening sky.

“I was 15. I was stupid, afraid, and anxious.

Because for my entire life everything has always been one step ahead of me. I’ve known what to say, how to act, how to think, how to feel..when to sit, stand, talk, stay silent..

when I was with her, nothing was foreseeable. It felt almost destructive and unfamiliar…not having control of something when you feel like your entire existence has been under control just the same.”

Kiri looks at me with an emotion I can’t quite place. A distant memory that decomposed under external complexities.

“I was afraid. Afraid of what she would do to me, to my heart, to the heart of the future olo’eyktan of this clan. What If the son of Toruk Makto could do everything when it came to training, preparing, learning and studying the ways of being a leader, but couldn’t keep his mate happy? I can’t live with that, Kiri.

More importantly, why would I make her live like that?”

There’s a silence that draws between us. Neither of us speak. 

Sometimes redemption is just a false hope. The spectacle of contemplating interchangeable acts of the past is a waste of time.

Emptiness, ecstasy, addiction, love, it all falls under a hollow shell of someone you hate. Someone you used to be.

Finally, Kiri speaks.

“You’re a stupid, Stupid man, Neteyam. And I’m probably even more stupid for trusting you to try again.”

My tail flicks, my ears upturn towards her, my entire face falling for a moment in pure shock.

I go to speak, but she cuts me off.

“You cannot start all that romance shit with her again. Our family can’t afford another one of your little spiels. It’s not about just you and her anymore. She’s dad’s right hand woman. His best student. Definitely better than the other warriors I’ve seen and that includes you. I won’t let you take that away from her. She has a future in this clan. But it’s not in your bed.”

I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to openly be in love with Y/n. 

But I am no stranger to sacrifices.

Love is nothing without sacrifice. My mother’s words spoke the truth. Love is sometimes loud, impatient and hungry. Thrashing with convulsion. 

The sun disappears every night so the moon can thrive in the darkness.

I would forget my entire existence If it was convenient for her.

I sacrificed for my parents. For my brother. For my sisters. For my home. For my morals. For my wants. My desires. My pain and my happiness.

There is always an atonement of sacrifice.

I shake my head.

“It wasn’t about that, Kiri. I just don’t us bad terms anymore. She’s like a sister to you, Lo’ak, and Tuk. She’s apart of our home now too.”

She nods, staring off for a moment.

“What about Lo’ak? 

I shake my head.

“I’m not going to court Y/n. I just want her back in my life, normal again.”

She pays my back, standing to her feet once again.

“You have my blessing. And my advice if you need it for later.”

I can’t help it when I hug her, so tightly her feet hover above the ground for a moment.

“Ugh! Neteyam! You’re getting your male germs all over me!”

Kiri huffs when I finally put her down.

”you’re my favorite sibling, you know that, sis?”

She waves me off, and I can’t help but laugh at this new warmth that blooms in my chest at having another chance.

Before I start walking back to highcamp, I’m grabbed roughly by my armband by my sister once again, her voice dark and low as she speaks.

“If you fuck this up, so help me Eywa-

If you so much as become the cause for her even dropping a smile, I will make dad summon Toruk again just so I can feed it your remains and than wear you as a new shawl. Are we understood?”

I nod, before hurriedly running back to camp as we both hear the horn, alerting my father and Y/n have arrived.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆

authors note:

I hate tumblr. But hopefully the chapter 3 trilogy will post smoothly.

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@iheartamajiki

[angy-grrr]

Idk if i'm just crazy but i noticed that there is a pattern with something that Uraraka does, is punctuated immediately after something Katsuki did before to Izuku and vice versa. I feel like this somehow highlights a difference between their intention and meaning for him. Like i'm sure this might be just a big coincidence but still.

well who knows really! The first thing that comes to mind to me is how Ochako helped Deku when he fell at the beginning, by being on the side/ behind him and using her quirk to avoid it, and Katsuki holding him facing each other, running to get to him faster than the rest -including Iida, whose quirk is literally about that!

But also the whole Deku thing; personally, because the author admitted he didnt intent to have Katsuki as a positive part of Izuku's life at first, I believe the reason for these introductions was clear: Bekugou, his childhood friend, opposes him and creates "Deku" as an insult to put him down, and will always mean that to him, while Ochako, a new friend he meets when starting his hero school, changes it creating something new and fresh so Izuku can have a motivation.

Non supporting VS Supporting. Out of his life VS In his life. Old VS New. Hopelessness VS Hope. Static VS Change.

You name it.

But then the author changes his mind, and Katsuki isn't just the rival anymore, and all of the sudden "Deku" has many layers; "Deku" also means the one that does his best alone, isolated and overworked, and even tho apparently this has shifted since the current chapters...

Slight manga spoilers, not too much tho (I guess??):

idk, Izuku still was ready to get up alone and fight if Aizawa didnt stop him to give him the T-shirt and remind him they are there. He was running alone, and others have to go to him (in this case, Iida) in order to help him, because he is still not asking for help at all.

It has been brought up again, the meaning Ochako gave it, and im not 100% sure if this is her remembering, Izuku, or the three of them -probably the last one? Iida seems to understand now what Ochako meant back then, and they see it in a positive light (which was the intention!), but for Izuku doing the best can mean many things. What's the best he can do? Act like All Might was his first answer, but that didn't work. Saving others? He knows heroes should do this, but with how unclear things are I dont know if he is aware the class would support his decision of saving a villain -after all, as far as we know, he doesn't tell anyone because he wants to share it with someone, but because someone else admitted it first.

Uraraka confessed that first, and showed that vulnerability without knowing how he could react [and honestly, it looked in that moment like she was mainly expressing herself outloud], and after that he ended up also sharing a similar feeling he had about villains and saving. What I mean is that he doesn't say shit unless someone else was vulnerable first.

Ochako wasn't going out to talk to anyone about it either, lets get that straight, but when she was asked by one of her best friends she lets herself be at least a little; she saw Izuku meant something "slightly" different than her, so she doesnt tell him how she envied her genuine smile, her freedom to be herself, love who she loves, or how she thought she was actually cute. She knew it was better to not talk about that because he had no interest in that, so she keeps it to herself knowing she will fight to make sure Himiko hears her this whole thing would be a part of the izuku and ochako meta kjfskjflajflksja

This happened too with Katsuki during their second fight; after Katsuki was emotional and falling apart, confessing such intimate and sad emotions with him, that's when Izuku couldn't help himself and ended up also putting his guard down. And still, he held back a crucial part -he didnt say he acts like him without even trying, and even tho everyone would see it as nasty and bad, he can't hate those things, those parts oh himself, because they are parts of Katsuki, his symbol of victory, what he sees as the best form of heroism. Despite Katsuki explaining he's confused and insecure over his main theme -victory-, and worries about it being not only unworthy but also the reason their idol "ended"... He held back.

He lost because of that.

Its interesting the contrast between those two scenes in terms of emotional vulnerability and reactions, before a war ochako and izuku are much calmer and distant than katsuki and izuku after getting back from a successful rescue. In the first case nothing actually changed between them -im not talking about the nature of the relationship but just the general apparent feelings and status. They are friends who share ideals and common interest before and after the talk, and the only one who was more reflective about it was Ochako who prefers to discuss it with Himiko than him -its more about them anyways. Izuku stays the same, as far as we know, because he thinks she also "just"* felt empathy for someone that was sad and alone, and we can't see this affecting him or shifting something between them.

His emotional moments with Katsuki? They do change everything every time -when he said he was going to be a hero, when they start to get closer, after the war "Deku" becoming "izuku", embracing what makes the other great, etc.

*Its a huge deal and really important, im not trying to minimize his motivations or ideas, just point out how their feelings and conflicts are different and similar -at this point we don't see Midoriya admiring Shigaraki in any way thru this whole story. The manga hasn't ended and he is unreliable, so maybe im wrong and he admires qualities about him he learns later on, but right now for me Izuku wants to bring him support because he is a human and nobody should get treated like he was.

Ochako and Katsuki also have different roles in his rescue, with him bringing him back to them and her showing everyone he is a boy that needs help. Izuku was moved by both actions, and thanks to Uraraka he gets to the shelter.

Their fight was also interesting! Ochako was thinking about winning this, yet she tried to follow Izuku's ideas and lost after trying something way too risky for her, because she ended up ignoring her own judgement and limits out of insecurity and admiration; when Katsuki tries to use his strategies in the wars tho, he is able to achieve what he wanted -he saves Izuku from getting stabbed, saves All Might from getting crushed by AFO, before dying he gets to weaken some parts of Shigaraki's body for the rest to use, etc.

Its not that he loses himself, he just tries something new that works for him, and im happy Ochako ended up realizing she needs to keep in mind what she needs and wants when taking inspiration from Midoriya. Even if similar, their feelings for "their" villains are different, and that's okay.

Katsuki now doesnt call him Deku unless he refers to his hero name, and prefers to use his first name while Ochako keeps using Deku-kun when talking to him or says directly his full name like in her talk with Himiko where she explains some parts of her life.

Even if "Deku" comes from "Izuku", the latter is closer, new for them, a little challenging at times, and shows respect, recognition and reaffirms his humanity over his heroism. "Deku-kun" sounds like "you can do it", a supportive name that comes from a misunderstanding from the beginning, and keeps getting used as she hasn't change her perspective about him in that way. He is still Deku-kun to her, but now Izuku to him.

Change VS Static.

Huh, I wonder where that came from.

[starsnores]

Ok so. I wanted to share a wip of what I was working on for the prisoner au fic. I do really wanna write more for it, I’m just. Very stuck. Writing things and then deleting them, really chasing my own tail. Writers block? I feel like I’m very bad at stringing the little scenes or ideas I have together into something bigger. But I do like how this next part was coming out and idk. Part of me hopes that talking about it more will encourage me to work on it. Bc I liked talking about my aus and stuff and I haven’t in a while. This is supposed to be a very, very rough start to the next chapter.

Rough fabric chafed his chitin. The clothes he’d been given were almost as threadbare as the old tshirt now lying on the floor at his feet. He had scrambled away from the clown, locking himself in the ablution chamber. He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there. Rummaging through the drawers and cabinets hadn’t turned up anything useful, would have no way to hide it if he had, didn’t even have underwear to tuck something into. Karkat wondered if they still had his things or if it had all been incinerated already. He could hear gamzee on the other side of the door, moving with slow heavy steps, evidently not worried about him, at all. How long could he stay in here, avoiding the inevitable. He couldn’t stop the clown from dragging him out if he wanted.

The door hissed as it slid open, and the first thing he saw was Gamzee perched on the back of the couch. In the time that Karkat had locked himself in the abultion chamber he had changed, dressed in an initiate subjugglator uniform, boldly patterned but far less ostentatious then other branches of the cult. It made the sharp angles of his body appear that much more dangerous.

Gamzes eyes flicked toward him, and the fine hairs on his neck stood on end.

"You done, motherfucker?"

Karkat crossed his arms over his chest, still feeling naked, "Yeah. You’re r leaving?”

"We got shit to do. C'mere."

"What do you mean ‘we’?”

Gamzee was already stalking forward something in his hand. Karkat flinched back but Gamzee moved faster, dropping onto a knee and grabbing his foot, throwing him off balance. Karkat reached to steady himself on the first thing his hands could find, tangling his fingers in Gamzee’s wild hair.

He was gently laced into a pair of sandals, and he tried not to shiver at the feeling if cold calloused hands cupping his ankle.

"Never knew they made fuckers as tiny as you."

Karkat thought about ripping the curls from his head.

When he finished he herded Karkat out of the front door. The door clicked as it slid shut behind them. “That’s it? You’re not going to put me on a leash or something?”

The clown shrugged. “Ain’t really got to. You can wander off if you’d like, just don’t think most juggalos would take to kindly to a mutant poking around where he shouldn’t be.” He turned down the corridor and, after a moment, Karkat followed.

The further Gamzee took him out of the hab blocks the more crowded it became. He had never seen so many of the cult in one place, had avoided seeing this many at all costs. Most didn’t seem to notice him. Something less than not caring, their eyes bouncing off of him as he trailed behind gamzee. A few, though, stared openly. Like they were trying to peel back his skin.

Hiding his blood color was habit, but he hadn’t felt this conscious of it in perigrees. Too much time spent alone, maybe.

He tried to keep pace with Gamzee, his long strides carried him far even at his leisurely pace, and karkat was still fatigued by his injuries. He felt like he was chasing after his lusus again. He hated it.

[bigshepherdrascalmug]

A quick analysis that I thought about on Akusuya based on Leo and Suya's chapters...

It's something that I forgot to mention is that, whenever it is a Leo chapter, Leo has the worst impressions of himself, and says he has done something wrong, even though either he regrets them and tries to improve and or has quite the good reasons for that; while Suya is literally just behaving the same way he just inquired wrong without any reason and or trying to stop herself whatsoever. Like in chapter 111 and 112 where he thought of himself as a stalker (even though he did that for justifiable reasons considering he has to keep her in check lol), while it was revealed in chapter 71 and more explicitly in chapter 143 that Suya's stalks him all the time just because she likes his smell and his room's smell; and or in this chapter when she gives him the wrong idea of what she actually wanted to do... I think that's a neat detail, and actually might be quite the hint that maybe, just maybe Leo internalized hate might be just a way he views himself that is completely different from the way Suya views himself... Notice that whenever somebody makes a mistake Suya is able to point it out, and is quite snarky; while when Leo does it she quickly tries to help him out and or justifies it, such like in the chapter where he interrogates Zastur, chapter 209, and, 153, 350 and 351 and others… 

One example of those behaviors are chapter 99 and 350-51.

(Notice how Leo is afraid of creatina a misunderstanding between the two of them, and right after Suya is the one that does that; and in chapter 351 he is afraid of touching her body or violating her autonomy or thinks that she is having the worst time of her life while she is playing in his tail and literally dresses in his body, once again DOING EXACTLY what he was afraid of doing).

Also, she is always saying how nice he is with her and many other things and in many instances seems to be extremely jealous of him too lol, also not caring much about personal boundaries, etc.

Chapter 112 and 281

In my opinion she has probably somewhat already realized she likes Leo very early on in the series... More specifically before chapter 71, like maybe around 48 - 55 around that time, maybe even before considering we have no idea when exactly she started going to his room, like if it's around chapters 48-55 to 143 than MAYBE she has been stalking him for more than a year or even like maybe 2 years; 

71 and 143, and 42. Considering Suya know exactly the MOMENT to catch Leonard's clothes, and she can actually mimick some of his behaviors really well as shown in 26? It might be fair to think she is been stalking him for a very long while now...

But notice how her behaviors in chapter 70, 71, and in another one where they actually have a pajama party, are very, and I mean very odd for her… (I can't find this chapter, but there is a chapter where Bussy?? And Harpy are in a pajama party with Suya and she is acting truly weird whenever they mention the Cleric incident, though notice that she never corrects herself when mentioning sleeping with somebody again, or ever stops coming to his room; if somebody knows what chapter it is to back up my evidence I would be glad lol).

Like, as if idk, she was really bothered by the thought that others might think she likes the Cleric? Who knows??

Also, considering Tumblr only accepts 10 photos per post, I will just say the chapters to notice things about and then you guys reread and pay attention to Suya's behaviors, and patterns and there is a lot going on in the background... Leo's narration is an UNRELIABLE ONE so it's not a good idea to go listening to him considering that every time he is proven to be wrong about Suya's feelings towards him...

Considering chapters like 310, 337, and many more and also chapter 71 as my one and most powerful proof of this Shipp to be canon in the end, I supposed that maybe Suya feels the same way towards Leo, whoever her being... You know, Suya... She doesn't quite know how to express it, I honestly think that Leo's feelings aren't exactly unrequited, just... You know... He is more going through somewhat of a 5 stages of grief regarding his love life, he is now, at this very moment going through the stages of denial to acceptance considering he is starting to have the courage to ask her out, etc... So yeah... Probably..?? But idk…

Besides if you guys notice it too in chapters such as 234, you might notice another interesting detail, Suya realizes that Kamosh is not Leo the moment he is around... Only stopping the act at the end, at least that's the impression I got, considering she is able to notice who he is quite quickly in per example the chapter where she is selling stuff lol; and in that chapter 234 Kamosh is very critical of Suya, saying she isn't quite the girl for Leo because she doesn't like him, and most likely sees him just as a friend or something of sorts... HOWEVER as soon as she says that he can't touch her hair because he isn't Leo, he suddenly changes his mind, and remember that besides not liking the idea of Leo liking Suya because she apparently doesn't seem to understand how he feels he also doesn't like the idea of him dating a human too.

Whoever that quickly changes once he views them together... Another thing is that Hypnos might be aware that Suya likes Leo too, considering chapter 221, Suya looks extremely happy in giving him a massage while also happy that he is giving her one, Hypnos told her that if she wanted one she needed to be quiet, and even though it wasn't quite the long massage she really appreciated it; AND in chapter 337 Midnight suddenly appears in the sky and helps Kamosh and Suya so, maybe he also knows what's up??... Anyways... I love to overanalyze stuff.

 

See chapter 234, 221 and 337 (for better understanding and notice Suya's and also the others reactions.

So logic comes this way: both Suya and Leo like each other but are afraid of rejection, Suya according to the chapters is mostly rejected no matter what she does, only in the end after she pushes his boundaries she is actually able to get closer to him, while whenever LEO is the one to invite her over or when something is for him she stops absolutely everything she is doing EVEN SLEEPING just for him, notice that pattern such like in chapters 79, 337, 55, 48, 289, and many, many more.

And some characters like Midnight, Hypnos and Kamosh already realized that, but aren't going to interfere much, mostly Kamosh and Hypnos will but only when they feel like it or if they notice that Leo needs their help somewhat.

Also, also another thing important to infer; Leo is the one that is mostly on his own mind, and is more aloof to the whole thing while Syalis is the one pursuing him; the chapters are mostly from Leo's perspective whoever if we analyze them correctly they come CLOSER to Syalis behaviors and thought process... So according to what we can infer from the manga…

So yeah, that's my case. Suya likes him back but is afraid of going after him because she probably thinks he is going to turn her down no matter what she does... Which kind of is true considering Leo's behavior of wanting everything under control and also in need of explanations for things that don't actually need one lol; which honestly also if that's the case, Suya isn't as wrong to think that way considering what happened at chapter 310, which was basically her wanting to go on a date with him, only for him to misinterpret her actions as herself wanting something in the human world dragging him alone and giving him more work lol (which honestly also understandable because she is INDEED a walking mass of destruction see chapter 130 for reference, he must’ve remembered that to be more specific.); at least that's how I see, if that's where it keeps on going, maybe the ending will be them together after all…