#infinite saving my beloved

[nekrophoria]

Okay, yeah I give up.

[milomeepit]

well I finally played bioshock infinite and burial at sea and I have learned 3 things

1) w. why is infinite so much more gory than the others. there's so much more explicit blood. it's cool but also. major jump in actually seeing the horrifying shit happening in Columbia versus in the first two games fjskjd

2) SO THATS WHY EVERYONE DRAWS JACK IN THAT ONE SWEATER

3) *tears in my eyes while listening to you belong to me* Time Is A Flat Circle Made Of Blood, Classism, And Unethical Child Experimentation

[galwithalibrarycard]

…..his reward was saying goodbye. Who gave RTD the right to do this to me? *sobbing*

(Defensively adding, it’s not my fault I didn’t have easy access to Doctor Who until very recently ok I know I’m fourteen years late here)

[somelazyassartist]

Oh my God I forgot I can. I can color my Artfight references with colored pencils. I've been stressing so fucking much about not having the spoons to do more digital art than I'm already doing right now but I can just. Use colored pencils on my sketches. I'm an idiot

[takami-takami]

Like Animals.

kinktober day 4: sex pollen.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. smut

warnings— afab!reader. dubcon (sex pollen/heats, but both have been pining like idiots). breeding if you squint.

keigo's beloved crush sidekick gets hit with the unluckiest quirk possible. he quickly discovers his rut suppressants ain't shit.

Through all the horrors and adverse life events Keigo has endured in this line of work— brutal near-assassinations, negotiations with international crime syndicates, purchasing sugar-free canned coffee with Splenda substitute by mistake before his morning shift— he has always been able to find a silver lining in the darkest of moments. 

Which makes it infinitely more concerning that for the first time in his life, he nearly whines through his teeth the words, "why me?" 

A palm drags once down his face, thumb and index finger pulling down his darkened eye bags. His hand collects the beads of sweat and stops to rest over his mouth. 

He supposes this must be his penance for taking a risk and trusting faulty intel. 

Keigo's informant told him the villain he and his darling sidekick were meeting would have a limited-ranged fire quirk, so the diligent hero stuffed ointment and cold packs in his pockets before leaving just in case. 

If he had known the villain was a plant heteromorph and possessed a heat-inducing mist quirk instead, and that the person he was hopelessly in love with had a bit of a crush on would be caught in the direct line of fire? 

He would have brought a paper bag to hyperventilate into instead. And some prayer beads. The god to which the prayer is delivered doesn't necessarily matter, he thinks. He'd simply pick one and drop to his knees in a bid for mercy.

"I'm taking you to a medic," Keigo puts his foot down for the fourth time this evening. 

"Fuck no," you groan from the couch, shifting to squeeze your thighs together. It offers not even a modicum of relief from the incessant throb. "Do you want my cause of death to be humiliation? Is that your plan, genius? 'S bad enough as it is that you're here." 

The subtext is unspoken, but clear to him through your adorable pout: I only trust you to see me like this.

It's unlucky that the man you've had the most innapropriate-for-work crush on for the better part of two years happened to be the one beside you that day. And it's just your sorry luck, you lament, that Keigo would also be the one to catch you, to fly you home cradled in his painfully capable arms, to refuse to leave your side and insist on making his favorite chicken soup for you in a desperate flail of support. 

He'd respect your decision and leave, should you ask him to. You know that. And yet the humbling truth gnaws at your pride: doing so wouldn't do much to save your image at this point. He’s already seen you like this, you grumble. The proverbial cat has long since escaped the bag, waltzing its way over to rub its purring body against Keigo’s leg to your abject horror.

If you close your eyes, you can attempt to trick your brain into thinking this affliction is a flu of some kind. 

Yes, this is just some common cold. You're wearing nothing but your work partner's shirt (your clothes were contaminated by the quirk's dust, Keigo explained, speaking in that strict work mode voice that makes you picture your mouth stuffed and drooling somewhere beneath his desk and between his spread legs). You pull the damned fabric down over your core as you try your hardest to not writhe in fits of pleasure underneath the blankets, rubbing your thighs together for any friction against your swollen clit.

All symptoms of an affliction of the flu, of course. 

You don't need to reach down and touch to know the slick would string those thighs together, should you attempt to pull them apart. 

Keigo knows that, too. But he doesn't say anything about it. 

You would be mortified if you were aware of the truth. 

That he knows everything.

Keigo knows exactly how you ache; like you're constantly on the precipice of an orgasm, perpetually ablaze from the heavy heat scorching your body from its surface to the boiling core. 

You try to suppress your glee as he spoon feeds you the broth, reminding yourself that this is just what good friends do for each other.

Friends coo praises at each other when they swallow, friends tilt each other's chins up with one finger and mutter things like that’s a good dove and you can take another as they watch their throat bob in tandem. 

Friends shiver from their wingtips down their spine when they pull the spoon back. They let their gaze linger for just a second on those lips that open wide, aching to touch.

Ever the gentleman, Keigo stays lowered to his haunches and places one hand over your forehead to check for a fever, redirecting his focus toward taking inventory of your vitals. He doesn't wince when he hears your moan at the contact, even though the pitiful sound pings at his weak points. His avian instincts remind him he needs to protect you, please you, take care of you; to make it go away, to fix that feeling he knows better than anyone is aching like a bruise between your thighs. 

He doesn't allow his eyes to wander astray or trail their way downwards, especially when you're in such a vulnerable state; but his professional assessment is that if he could only wet his appetite, the flat of his tongue alone could— 

He shakes his head and blows a puff to cool the soup, raising another spoonful to your lips. 

"Here. Another. You need to keep your energy up," he reminds you, voice stern. It's nearly clinical and achieves the opposite of its desired effect.

Your heart rate picks up to thump at a steady, thrumming beat at the innocuous gesture of domesticity. 

How have you never noticed how capable of a mate Keigo would be…? He’s all musculature and sincerity, sharp ridges at his knuckles and soft curves at the small of his waist where he only trusts you to touch.

You huff an involuntary moan. 

He picks another god to praise that the couch you're laying on obscures his lower half. 

Today, Keigo discovers his suppressants are only designed to reduce the chance of a rut being triggered. It brings the possibility of it starting in the first place to a comfortable near-zero, allowing him to carry out the spring and fall seasons as if he were entirely quirkless.

But if that rut passes through the blockers' biochemistry in, say, the event Keigo's luck rears its ugly head, for example… It does fuck all to reduce the actual symptoms. 

More importantly than his own anguish, however, is this: his mate work partner got hurt because of him— hurt being a stretch, he'd know if he weren't overthinking so much, given the blissed out panting just two feet away from him; but you’re probably suffering and it's all his fault. It’s all because of an unlucky, once in a lifetime slip up from Keigo Takami himself, and he can't detangle himself from the guilt.

If drowning in the unexpected whirlpool that is his first rut in half a decade is his penance for the crime, then Keigo will hang his head and take it.

The huff he lets out is your last straw.

"I'm going to my room," you state, moving to leave like you left the stove on and are trying to avoid an upcoming house fire.

When his hand darts out to stop you, the touch against your shoulder sends shockwaves down your stomach.

He's touching you. He's taking such good care of you, feeding you, providing for you in his nest and now he's touching you?

It sends your hormones into overdrive. 

You'd do well to conceal it, if his heightened instincts couldn't smell your desperation. 

"I'm afraid it ain't that easy, dove," he warns, eye contact averted. "I'd avoid doing that, if I were you." 

Keigo schools his expression, but not before you catch a flash of something hungry. 

There's no chance in hell he's letting you out of his sight. Not like this. You're confined to the couch while he keeps an eye on you. Attempting to fix it yourself will only make the feeling unfathomably worse, something he tries to communicate to you with a look that only ends up making him look like a kicked puppy.

You squint right back when you process the implication of his words, eyes raking down his form in suspicion. 

"How do you know all this, anyway," you ask.

Keigo goes silent, hand concealing his mouth. 

Ah, it hits you. 

Bird things.

Your head falls back against one of the numerous pillows your partner propped up behind you.

"The couch is soft," you murmur, situating yourself against the cushions and throw blankets he so carefully arranged. You trail your fingertips along a silk pillow. Keigo slams his eyes shut.

"Please don't say it like that." 

"Why not?" Your lids droop, heat overtaking your better judgement. Tentatively, you play along the bounds. You allow your hands to run along the soft divots of the blanket covering your body, squeezing your chest and pinching the peaks. "It's like a little nest, isn't it?" 

His hand drags down his face before pinching his nose bridge, suppressing a whine. "Baby, please—" 

"You don't wanna join me?"

"You don't know what you're talking about. It's just the heat," Keigo tells himself more than you. "For the love of God, dove, stop talking—"

"But it hurts, Kei'." It’s a low blow, judging by the protective coo that escapes his lips. 

Fed up, he leans forward and swings his right leg over your hip, crawling atop you as if his body has a mind of its own, utterly bogged by desire and yanked like puppet strings.

With him kneeling tall above you, the bodysuit of his hero costume hides absolutely nothing. The musculature is quite impressive, actually. Proof of his viability as a mate— all dominant and masculine and gorgeous.

And at this angle, you can see the most painful erection straining against his pants. 

"I need you, Kei'. I need— mmph!" 

A palm silences you; slapped down, hot, imposing, and heavy like a weight against your mouth. 

The authority of the action makes your cunt clench; and Keigo would die before he lets that feeling go to waste, so his hips drop down to grind once against it. 

Your eyes go wide, doughy and stunned, darting down in haste, following the trail of his thick bicep up toward the disciplinary scowl on his face. 

His nostrils flare with the heaving in his chest, eyes screwed shut with his last slivers of patience holding its grip on his psyche.

"One more word," he says, pulling his hand away. "One more word and I'm ripping this blanket off and fucking you raw." 

After a moment of silence, you speak.

"Please." 

Keigo is wordless when he unbuckles his belt and lets it— and his inhibitions— drop with a satisfying clink.

The reality of what you've gotten yourself into comes crashing down as it hits you how utterly fucked you are. The scaffolding of years of sexual tension comes crumbling down like bricks to rubble, a city of restraint reduced to pure, animalistic desire. 

Years of Keigo's eyes darting away when you nonchalantly change into your uniform in front of him, even though he never seemed bothered by any of his other peers doing the same; years of you both curling in on yourselves at the furthest edges of the bed you had to share, cramped close in those under-the-radar motels on stealth missions; years of the words "idiot, can I kiss you," held back by your lips as you watch him moan when he sinks his teeth into his comfort restaurant's chicken teriyaki every stupid Friday night, sitting cross-legged and at home on the carpet of your apartment floor. 

Not a single word is exchanged as he pulls his cock free from its confines, nearly too thick for his fingers to meet when they wrap around it. He tosses the blanket to the side with haste, dragging your shirt (his shirt) up to your collar, exposing your chest when he lines his cock with your entrance. 

"Please, Kei'," you sniffle. "Hurts." 

"Oh, I know, baby... I know." His lips are pursed when he shushes you, tracing your cheek with his palm. "I'll make it go away."

When your lips meet, it's like static electricity; and it's entirely remorseless.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he groans against your mouth, dragging his length along your sticky thighs before plopping the thick of it atop your soaked cunt. 

"So wet for me," he reveres, dragging the plump tip through your mess to get it slick enough to rub against your clit. 

Your rutting hips buck with impatience in an attempt to glide his length against your swollen pussy, but that only serves to fuel his desire; and those desperate little whines only feed into his insatiable need to fuck, to breed you until you're silent. 

Until you shut the fuck up. 

Those pathetic little sounds are music to his ears, a siren's song that used to play only in his most shameful fantasies; the ones that kept his fist tight around his cock the moment he returned home after missions, the sight of you panting and spitting blood after battle with a smile on your face still fresh in his memory. 

Keigo wants to hear you moan. 

But his rut needs to fuck you wordless with satisfaction. 

"Oh, fuck," he hitches, shifting his hips back and forth to the tune of the audible shlicks below. Unable to stay upright any longer, his chest falls flush into yours in a rut-afflicted haze, rutting against you like animals. 

When he slips his cock inside, it's with a kiss to muffle his voice.

And he wastes no time setting a punishing pace, aided nicely by the slickness that coats the sides of his cock. The legs of the couch surely must be scraping indents into the floorboards, judging by the creaks that mingle with the sounds of his belt buckle at every thrust. You'd notice if either of you were lucid enough to care. 

It's a brief consideration of a possibility of an afterthought, like a sheepish voice behind a roaring crowd. 

Pulling out, that is. 

Yeah, if he were a stronger man, he could probably will his hips to stall. There's a chance someone far stronger than him would hiss when he does it. His cock would weep in denial of that sweet, velvet entanglement, dripping out in the cold when he fists himself to completion mere inches away from what might as well be the center of his goddamn universe.

But when it comes to you, when it comes to his rut, Keigo is not a strong man.

He allows his cock to throb in the vice of your cunt, instead.

"God, baby," he moans into your neck, wings flapping once, twice with each thrust, shedding a few feathers before straightening out and grazing the ceiling behind his back. "Baby. Oh, baby. You're so tight. You're so— fuck!"

He's babbling, but so are you. Legs hooked across the small of his back, you bump your hips as best you can to aid in his efforts; and with your last shreds of lucidity, you decide for the both of you how things will end. 

With watery lashes, you open your eyes enough to blink away some tears and clear your vision just enough. Your gaze crawls up his legs that are still clothed to the thighs, peeking over the curvature of his ass and up his shuddering spine— all to mark onto your scarlet red prize.

When you entangle your fingers into the downy feathers at the base of his wings, it shoots straight to his cock and he spills.

With eyes wide open and a strangled choke at the back of his throat, Keigo's hips stutter when he empties himself. With every throb comes another rope from the tip, sticky and excessive from the rut, mixing with your wetness as you crash over the edge soon after.

When the ringing in your ears ceases and you finally come to, it's to the sight of your now probably-more-than-a-work-partner pulling out and staring between your legs as if under a trance, eyes glimmering.

"Kei', you okay?"

"Uh huh," he answers absentmindedly, utterly transfixed on the mess he made. 

It's strange, he thinks. Whatever urges his rut transcribed into cravings, every instinct that tugged at the avian etched in his DNA and called him to fill you pales in comparison to the satisfaction of having indulged himself at last.

His eyes flick back to meet yours.

"Does this mean I can kiss you at work now?" 

You snort. So that's where his mind goes in the end.

"It means a whole lot more than that," you say, rolling you both over so he lands square on his back.

[ffsg0jo]

𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

character :: higuruma x fem reader

warnings :: fluff, mentions of death/ghosts, allusions to depression, children, pregnancy, higuruma has low self esteem sometimes, kissing, cute kids

w/c :: 1000

a/n :: thank you so so much @xodapawp for sending this request. it was written as a part of my fics for gaza commissions that im doing. if you enjoyed it and would like to donate to gaza, then please check out the linked post for more information and @ficsforgaza too !!

life was fleeting, something hiromi knew all too well. things could change in mere seconds, time slipping like sand between one’s fingers. the tighter he tried to hold onto it, the faster the streams ran, leaving behind bitter, salty grains.

guilt weighed on his shoulders with the intensity of a thousand suns, blinding his view and blurring the lines between sense and nonsense. the wax wings on hiromi’s shoulders melting, facilitating his spiralling descent. deeper and deeper he fell into the endless abyss of his mind. he was helpless, his sense of justice skewed. the mental subjugation and torment seemingly infinite.

but then you came into his life.

hiromi has no idea what he did to be deserving of you. he keeps waiting and waiting for something to go wrong, retribution for his misdeeds. through restless nights where he could hear shrieks of the ghosts of his past coming back to haunt him. he was so sure you could hear them too and that you’d leave, but you didn’t. instead holding him close to you through it all, the comforting weight of your body on his, fighting the emptiness within.

you loved and accepted him for what he was, a broken man in need of respite. he was underserving of your kindness and tried to push you away, but you saw the good in his heart and called out to it. you helped him heal and fought his hardships with him, side by side. slowly but surely, the fog in his mind lifted, the blinding lights dimming until his view was clear. in you he found atonement. he found liberation.

you blessed him with, not one, but two angels, with a third on the way. hiromi thought he knew happiness, like winning a case for someone wrongly accused of a crime or sinking into a steamy bath after a long, tiring day. but when he first laid eyes on his sweet baby boy he burst into tears, kissing your face repeatedly, his heart swollen, full of love. he had never been happier (save for the day he married his one true love).

hiromi watched his son grow day by day, looking more and more like him. his face may have been an exact replica of his father’s, but his son’s sincerity and open-hearted nature was all yours. in his son’s smile he saw you.

time flew before his eyes, only now he looked back on his memories with fondness and gratitude. before he knew it, his family was due to expand again, with the addition of his baby girl. he was the luckiest man in the world, his heart overflowing with warmth, happiness running through the ends of his hairs to the tips of his toes.

with you laying your head on his shoulder, his son doing his homework on the living room floor, and his daughter sleeping in his arms, he felt truly at peace. looking down at his precious daughter he found a million reasons why he had loved (and always will love) you.

hiromi was never one to appreciate to his looks. but in the mornings, when shaving before work, he’d end up scrutinising every single little detail. he saw his son, looking him in his eyes, a bigger version of his daughter’s cute nose on his face. that infectious smile of yours now mirrored on his lips. how could he have ever felt so insecure about himself when his children are the very essence of his being. looking at his beloved children, he thinks, no he knows, there is beauty inside of him too. that there always was.

 “romi is everything okay?”

your voice lulls him out of his reverie, bringing him back to the present. your daughter was out of his arms and was now calling your son’s name, clambering onto his back whilst he was on the floor colouring. he paid her no mind, used to be treated like a climbing frame, and continued working on his school project.

hiromi, sat cuddling you on the sofa, laughs when she starts pulling his hair. his son finally has enough and stands up, pulling the three-year-old onto his shoulders, and runs around the tea table pretending to be a plane. your husband turns back to you, absentmindedly rubbing your swollen stomach.

“just thinking my love,” he says, leaning down and kissing between your brow. you hum and snuggle into his arms further.

“penny for your thoughts?”

“absolutely not, they’re worth more than a pretty penny,” he jokingly scoffs.

“fine,” you huff, leaning up to kiss him tenderly. “a kiss for your thoughts.”

he acquiesces, leaning down to press his cheek against yours.

“just thinking about how lucky i am to have you.” you turn your face to meet hiromi’s gaze, eyes shining at the strength of the sincerity in his admission. you bring your hands up to hold his face, pressing kisses to his lips.

“i’m the lucky one my sweetheart, you’ve given me everything i could’ve ever asked for and more.”

a warmth rushes through his body at your words and he captures your lips in the sweetest kiss. the hand on your stomach moves to your waist as he gently pulls you into him, deepening the kiss.

“ewww daddy’s eating mummy.” your daughter exclaims, pointing down from her brother’s shoulders.

you pull apart and laugh at her words. your son only looking at you both with a smile, heart warming at the sight of his parents being so openly in love.

hiromi jumps up from the sofa and runs towards your daughter, grabbing her off your son’s shoulders and playfully bites and kisses her cheeks.

over the sounds of her delighted giggles, hiromi exclaims “gonna gobble you next”, aggressively om nom nomming her cheeks.

your son sits down next to you and lays his head onto your chest, hugging you, mindful not to put too much weight onto your midsection. immediately your hand comes up to stroke his hair and you kiss his forehead. he’s so much like his father, both in personality and looks.

laughing at his dad’s antics, both you and your son fondly watch hiromi now throw your daughter up into the air and catch her. rubbing your stomach, you pray the child in your womb turns out exactly like their father.

truly, what a blessed family you’ve both created.

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Can you write one where the reader is supposed to executed after Shibuya cause she’s in a relationship with Gojo. I kinda want it to be angsty, but you do what you want with this!

I know you said angsty, but all I can hear is bad bitch (the elders are REALLY angsty though lol)

Gojo's wife supposedly getting executed but kicking ass instead

Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: When Sibuya is finally over, you find yourself facing none other than the elders who want to execute you. Little do they know you are no one to be messed with, that even without your husband by your side, you are a true threat if you want to...

Warnings: lots of violence, (y/n) takes no shit in this one, language, not proofread yet

This is kinda like a continuation of this fic here

The sound of your heels clicking against the marble floor are the only thing that hangs in the air along with that deadly silence – literally.

You aren’t dumb. Of course you know why you’re here. Satoru is sealed, the only jujutsu sorcerer they were always afraid of. And since your husband is gone and nobody knows when or if he’ll return, these old farts seize their opportunity to finally get rid of you, to get rid of Yuji, to get rid of Yaga.

Well, maybe you weren’t exactly kind to them these last years. Yes, you were a pain in the ass yourself, threatening to kill every single one of them more than once. And with your husband, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of this time, chuckling in the background, they simply had no choice but to hear you out.

Not anymore, though. Not when your husband is sealed in a tiny box with no way out.

You play with a strand of your hair while making your way to the huge door that separates you from them, containing your temper and breathing. Honestly, you couldn’t care less about the fact that they want to execute you. But Yaga, Yuji…There’s no way in hell you’ll let that happen, no way you’ll let them kill you this easily.

“You have some fucking nerve, calling me here after our last meeting. Didn’t I told you urgent enough what happens when you threaten my students?”

Confidently, you position yourself in the middle of the circled room, glaring right through their dark figures with your death stare.

“As if it’s not enough that I lost my husband in Shibuya while, if you even care about that minor detail, we all tried to save everyone in Japan from certain death. You know what would have happened if we didn’t fight until the very end, right? You know that we did all of this for the innocent people out there, right?”

Tame down your beating heart, your rushing blood. If you get angry, you might lose it all. And while Satoru supports you no matter what you do, you don’t want Yuji to look at you with those innocent disappointed eyes. No, you aren’t here to kill every single one of them.

But if one wrong word leaves their mouths, one word of disrespect against your beloved husband…

“You will be executed, (y/n) Gojo.”

You can’t contain a disrespectful huff. You, executed by those old farts? That you don’t laugh, that you don’t slaughter all of them on the spot.

“While you sat here on your old asses, my husband, I and countless others were out there fighting bravely for stranger’s life’s. Who are you to judge over mine? Who do you think you are to even consider you’d be able to take my life from me?”

Your threatful eyes seem to glow in the dark, hands clenched into fists so tightly that your own blood spills onto the marble ground.

“But all you care about is supremacy, isn’t it? Masamichi’s formula for creating independent cursed corpses, my infinite powers…You give zero fucks about the jujutsu sorcerers out there. All you care about is your puny selves”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Shut your mouth. You are no threat to us.”

Did you hear that correctly? That man sitting to your right didn’t just raise his voice at you, didn’t just say that you can’t hold a candle against them. Them, a room full of old farts. Them, who are too afraid to even fight. Them, who hide in this stinky room in order to protect themselves.

“Am I not?”, you mutter.

Within the blink of an eye, you throw one of your poisoned needles towards him, hitting his shoulder just how you wanted. Immediately the tension in the room is thick enough to get sliced, all elders springing up immediately.

“Come on, attack me, kill me if you dare. I couldn’t care less. Never forget that you are talking to me, (y/n) Gojo. There is a reason why Satoru married me and it certainly wasn’t to protect me.”

Oh, how much you miss him. What you would do to have Satoru back on your side.

“You are nothing without Satoru Gojo!”

“Look who’s there, the woman who just threatened the higher ups of Jujutsu High all on her own. Did you really choke that man?”

Your husband grinned at you widely, his blindfold already taken off. You simply shrugged your shoulders and smiled at him.

“Apparently I was able to convince them somehow. Come on, we should get going. I hope all of them are alright…”

God, how much you long for his tender touch, how much you’d do for him standing right by your side right now. Not to handle the situation for you, but to know you’re not alone.

Are you alone, though? Your husband might be sealed, but he isn’t dead, let alone gone. He’s still somewhere out there and thinks about you, still supports you from where ever he is. No, with Satoru as your beloved husband, you’ll never truly be alone.

“I am enough to make sure none of you will ever see the daylight again if you insist on this path. If you hurt Yuji Itadori-“

You aren’t able to finish your sentence. All of the sudden chains fly your way, trap you right in the middle of the room in the matter of seconds. For a brief moment your senses fail you, darkness summons you like a veil. Is this your end? Are they really able to bring you down this easily? You simply can’t die like that, not through their dirty hands, not when you weren’t able to say goodbye to your husband.

Your trembling breath hangs in the air, cursed metal digs into your tender flesh. Satoru…His face appears before your inner eye.

“Hey, you aren’t giving up now, aren’t ya? You’re just getting started, babe!”

You are better than them, stronger than them, braver than them. You huff to yourself, thick fear and power starts pumping through your veins. Fall seven times, stand up eight.

“Let’s get the party started.”

Their puny chains tear like threat under the sheer force of your bare arms, setting you free like a bird.

“See this as your final warning.”

Your fists discolour the room in deadly crimson, lighten up their scared faces.

“If you ever touch me or my students again.”

Fire runs through the room like a storm, lights them up, lets their flesh melt away like butter.

“I will kill every single one of you without blinking. Every. Single. One.”

Their desperate screams fill you with satisfaction while you keep going, shooting your poisoned needles their way, letting each one of them collapse underneath the weight of their sins.

“I kindly advise you to never mess with any member of the Gojo clan. Even though I’m not my husband, I’m definitely strong enough to end every life in this room if you keep threatening my students, friends and myself. If you ever dare to call me again…”

You snap, sending another wave of cursed fire their way.

“Well, maybe not do that. Now excuse me, I have to look after my students and figure out how to free my husband. See you never again.”

With one last satisfied grin, you turn on your heels and walk out, closing the door behind you for what you hope forever.

Was this the right thing to do? Did you cross a line you shouldn’t have crossed? Maybe you put Yuji in even more danger, maybe Masamichi still gets executed.

No.

Stop your train of thoughts.

This is not the right time to doubt yourself. They want to execute you, want to wipe you from this earth without a trace?

“That I don’t laugh…”, you mutter to yourself.

“There you are, Gojo-sensei! I was looking for you!”

A gentle smile creeps up your face and makes you forget about what just happened immediately.

“Hey, how are you feeling today, Yuji? Did Shoko treat your wounds?”, you question, gently wrapping your arm around the pink-haired boy who went to hell and back.

“I was thinking about a way to free Gojo-sensei and I’d love to try it with you! Oh, your uniform is a little burned. Are you alright?”

His eyes dart all over your body worried while you can’t fight a wide grin any longer.

“That? Oh, nothing for you to worry about. Come on, show me what you’ve find out.”

Bonus:

“Can you imagine? They called me to literally execute me. Wanna know what I did?”

“You bet I do…”, Satoru mumbles to himself on top of a pile of bones.

“I kinda burned them to the ground. But don’t worry, I am almost certain they survived. Hopefully they’ll leave Yuji, Masamichi an me alone now. But I think that could have consequences, so maybe move your ass out of that cube a little faster”, you bubble.

Satoru lets out a heartfelt laugh. So you really threatened the elders again? No wonder he married you, that force of a woman.

“I’ll come back to you babe. And then we’ll  both kick their asses together.”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82

[threepandas]

Bad End: Chosen

I used to love Otome games.

Used to love the genre, predictable as it could sometimes be. It was bright. Fun. A colorful bit of escapism built on love and power fantasies. I read the books. Watched the animes. Engaged with the fandoms freely and with an enthusiasm I can barely remember now.

It was a lifetime ago.

Before I... before, like a monkey's paw wish, I got granted every OI fan's DREAM. I somehow, someway, died and was reborn. A genuine isekai all of my own. I laugh now... I really do... I was so fucking EXCITED.

I was a FOOL.

The world is not a story. PEOPLE are not characters. You can not push the "right" social imput buttons and have a happy ending pop out. Time moves as it always has and always will. Day by day. And? Just because you are HERE? Does not mean you are SPECIAL.

I was old enough to know that, thank the Gods. Or I would have made a likely terrible mistake. Probably a fatal one, by now.

How, you may ask? Surely if you are reborn, you are special! Important to the "plot"! HA. Ah yes, the all forsaken PLOT. That damnable thing, chaining out fates and making us dance, like toys, for the Gods amusement. No, I was merely a replacement part for one worn out and broken down. A soul that gave up.

This dance repeats, you know.

They aren't done with us yet. Not bored of us, all the twists and turns we might take. She could not keep fighting. Keep raging. And so she was replaced. Now I live... a changeling in her place. Knowing my role yet careful to defy it. But... oh...

Oh, how almost IMPOSSIBLE it is to defy it.

I am supposed to HATE her. The Protagonist. The Chosen One. Saintess and beloved. The God's special little thing. Showered in adoration and silks, pampering and protection. While we all DIE. In this, their STUPID fucking Holy War, that we CAN NOT WIN, against "The Dark".

How HELPFUL, my liege. How incredibly SPECIFIC. Is "The Dark" the demons that tore apart my squadron a fortnight ago or the undead that rose and devored an entire village of terrified innocents? How do we STOP them? END this infinite string of atrocities?

Oh? "Only the SAINTESS can push back The Dark"? Well then! It's a good thing she safely tucked away in the CAPITAL THEN, isn't it!? Far from the front lines where we NEED her! Thank the GODS she's getting her chance to play "fuck, fuck, marry!" with the nation's finest while we all DIE!

I remind myself again, desperately, I am not allowed to hate her.

If I hate her, I become an antagonist in this little play. Doomed to die a gruesome and needless death. My men need me. The people need me. The live and breathe and fear for their lives. At the mercy of cruel God's who do not care.

I almost... It is enough that I almost wish my Master was here. But no, HE stayed back at the Magic Tower. Lost interest in me the second the merest HINT that his beloved pet prophecy might be about to be fulfilled. I was his student for most of my life. Chased up and down that mind-bending hellhole for years, giving my everything to meet his every standard.

Does he even remember my name?

Ha ha... gods, as I stare down at the battle map, one of so SO many... I feel brittle. How long will we fight? How many of my men must DIE, before that God coddled BITCH gets off her ass and comes to do her JOB?! We've lost Redwell. Lakehill is covered in ghouls. And no one we sent near the forests of Mirth ever reports back.

But at least the crown prince is getting his fucking birthday party while his people starve. While they run for their lives. Cower from demons and the damned. Because his Twue Woooove~ can't be allowed to put her dainty little self in DANGER now CAN she?!

I'm seething. Furious. Nails digging into the wood on the table before me. I know I should be planning... but I just... gods, I just so ANGRY. So tired. How long can this continue? Am I going to die here, just so those fuckers can DRAMATICALLY "save the day" at the last second? As though they had not let thousands die? Only for it all to begin again? What am I supposed to d-?

Like a roll of thunder and an earthquake combined, the non-physical world SHAKES.

Weight. POWER. Like a mountain appearing from no where, to drop down upon us all. It is CRUSHING. And every bit as dark as being buried beneath tons on soil and stone. My legs nearly give out. My grip on the table before me the only thing keeping me up and alarm bells start clanging outside my tent.

This is it.

I don't know what's about to happen, but I can FEEL it. I... I can not possibly hope to win. It's over. I know, in my heart, I will go out there and fight. Die. Because I refuse to die cowering. Because maybe it'll make a difference for my friends, for the others, for those that yet live. Every monster I slay is one less they fight.

But... this is it.

It's over.

I wish I felt braver. Glorious and filled with light. A beacon of hope, perhaps. But all I can offer is fear and anger and SPITE. Locking my knees so I can stand. Blinking away the tears so I can grit my teeth and bare them. Grabbing my staff so can go a die with the others. Today I shall burn the world. I promised myself.

Take them with you.

Take every last one of those fuckers WITH YOU.

The battle is ugly. It always is and always will be. I heal where I can but kill faster the most can blink. Waves of fire. Blood turned to ice turn to shrapnel bombs turned to flying storms of blood ice shards. Wind attacks and void pockets. Puppets made of mud and rock and bits of armor. The blood of the fallen only making it all that much stronger, that much more terrible.

Magic in war hold no beauty.

I wish I never had to see it again.

"Grandlearner, you've been practicing." A rich voice observed from behind me, sounding pleased. "Good~"

Between one instance and the next, the crushing ocean of power moves between the far side of the battle field to right behind me. I move, spin. Fire my strongest short-range piercing in the desperate hope to gut the man now far too close. I... am effortlessly countered.

He didn't even have to move his hands.

There, standing in the heart of an open battle field, is a man in impeccable fomal clothes. Spotless, dispite the ash and dust, the blood and gore. Almost inhuman in his otherness, compared to the death and suffering surrounding him. He looks like a proper well-to-do gentleman ready for a stroll. The sort of ambiguously ageless bachelor that had haunted the royal university's halls every time I was sent there, to collect something for the Tower.

Too old to be some boyish flirt, too young to be a rougish mistake. It feels false. Mocking. Like a mask held up by some grinning beast. Something older then it seems, effortlessly blending in with the Power of the current age, all the better to play them like fools.

Then the words register and my blood runs cold.

"Learner". It's what a Master calls their personal magical students at the Tower. There are lineage, of a sort. Like bloodlines, almost. Since most never leave. A way to pass on your teachings. Your name and traditions. It's not like we often have the chance to have biological kids. Too busy with our studies. So it's considered effectively the same.

My Master's Master. Who was said to be one of, if not THE, greatest Mages of the last thousand years, possibly longer. Said to have simply vanished one day. Rumored to have "lost his mind" and left the Tower for places unknown after some great argument. Foremost expert on The Dark.

Now standing h...here. Right... Right here. With the enemy army. Of dark and terrible things. The very abominations he once studied "academically". Oh gods. It doesn't take much to put two and two together.

"I've come to collect you, my dear." He says, the very picture of charm as my men scream and suffer around him. As they fight for their lives against his monstrosities. As... as they LOSE. "It has come to my attention, that my unfortunate disappointment of a student has been neglecting his duties to you."

He sweeps his hat gallantly from his head, holding it against his heart at just the right angle, as though offering to merely take me for a stroll. Picture perfect etiquette. As though this were high society and not a warzone. The disconnect stuns me for long moments. "Collect" me?

He strolls forward. Expensive shoe leather somehow unstained by the terrible muck of the battlefield. The blood and mud, the spell water and ash. Amusement rolling off every line of his form, as I try to keep the distance between us. As I struggle against the sucking filth to keep my feet under me.

"I would like to say I am surprised... but honestly? I am not. He always WAS easily distracted by shiny trinkets of little worth. The shinier the better. Like an empty headed little magpie. Disgusting really, how little he values loyalty. I DID try to instill some values. Hard work. Good, honest, study. Some modicum of rationality..."

"It did not work." He sighs, stepping over the fallen body of my Cordelia, my reserve healer. Gods, please no, I told her to RUN... "Unlike myself of course. I, my dear, know EXACTLY what your worth. How you have been WASTED on that little ingrate. It truely has been a theme with him, hasn't it?"

"Tossing aside anything who doesn't fit his perfect little vision. His Master, his Learner, nothing is sacred to him. All he shall ever care for is his little divine tart, won't he?"

The grin that spills across his mouth is like poison through veins, it terrifies me. His face is arranged in a mask of pleasantry. But the look in his eye... that look was coldly covetous. The sort of hunger that would sooner kill than release its hold. It wasn't lustful, I was a child too him. An infant. But I was, perhaps, all that remained. The last piece of his lineage he could possibly still steal away. Corrupt.

I refused.

It... it did not matter much, in the end.

Every spell, he counters. Every attack, he matchs with effortless neutralization. The well of his magic is like the sea. Deep, dark, and crushing. I rage against it, even knowing I stand no chance. I... I have to TRY. I can do no less. Even as I slowly collapse.

Water and ice, electricity and transformation, wind and fire. I try to EXPLODE HIS ORGANS for the Gods sake. In the end, with nothing left, the well of my magic nearly bone dry... I swing at him. Put my back in to it. A staff is a staff after all. It even has a pretty hefty rock in it. It'd probably take out a few teeth.

He, of course, catches it.

Bastard.

He looks CHARMED. Utterly delighted. As though my defiance and struggle are some cute little game. The tantrum of an adorable child that does not wish to submit to their nap. The world swayed as my body begs me to just pass out. To escape within myself. Recover. My legs can no longer hold me. I glare. At last, long last, I let myself HATE.

If that BITCH had just DONE HER JOB. I would not be here, at the mercy of a mad man. While she frolics about, in her happy little tale of love and misunderstandings? I have suffered. People have died! The world has fallen to slow and crumbling RUIN.

Gloved hands cupped my cheeks.

"That's it, little one~ My precious child. Get angry. RAGE for me. Let Master see your fire~" thumbs stroked my cheeks. Looming and entirely too close. There is a glee in that eye, a madness. "We are going to set this world FREE. You? Oh dearest you are utterly PERFECT. Master will take care of everything, understand? All you have to do?"

"Is give in."

Next -->

[floofeh-purpi]

Oh wow .... This will be mah first request but here we are! (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

Will it be alright to request a sagau but the reader can time travel? (Feel free to ignore this 🥹 if you don't want to)

Like for an example , the time traveler reader / y/n somehow can time travel and is excellent when it gets to time , or would sometimes use time traveling to scare the sh-t out of others.

Feel free to use any character 🥹

"And thus, The Creator wreaked havoc across Teyvat."

SAGAU! Some GI characters x Creator! Gn! Reader

『Beloved fluffball/s mentioned below! 💜』

@justmare @mc-cos-charm @keirennyx @fantasticarcadefan @catratnap

☆

A/n: OHMYGOSHOHMYGOSHOHMUGOSH FIRST REQUEST OF THEM ALL GUYS AHHHHHHH—

Warnings: Swearing, spelling/potential grammar issues, you being like a certain arsonist from modstandt is a way, I went back into the shitty ass writing style I had because I thought it was funnier like that, Me being a giggleshitter while writing this, this shit is so fucking short please.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

You were the Architect, the Prime Mover, the Original Sin and Salvation all rolled into one cosmic entity.

The Creator.

And man, were you bored. So fucking bored you invented time travel just to spice things up. Like, be for real, who needs hobbies when you can mess with time?

Being way too op was kinda lonely. Keyword: Kinda. but hey, at least you had good hair. So you decided to be a cosmic prankster.

You turned Venti's lyre into a kazoo, replaced Zhongli's tea with lava just kidding, or am I?, and swapped Diluc's wine for apple juice. Classic. But way too damn basic. In your opinion.

Watching your creations scramble to deal with your shenanigans was pure gold. Like that time you turned the entire cast of Liyue into chickens. It was— way too literally— a feather-filled fiasco, let me tell you.

Oh! Amnd don't even get me started on the time you turned the Sumeru Akademiya cinto a giant ball pit. Yeah, those scholars were not amused. But deep down, behind the cosmic joker facade, you actually kinda cared about your little creations.

So you'd leave them little gifts. Like that time you gave Jean an infinite supply of pizza Jean doesnt know what pizza is but found it good, or when you turned Childe's delusions into reality for like, five and a quarter half minutes.

After a while, even messing with time got old. So you decided to increase the chaos you oh-so loved. Like the little shit you are/jk. You conjured up a giant-ass, angry space hamster to terrorize Teyvat. Just for kicks. Your creations rose to the challenge, and you were like, "Damn, I raised 'em right."

Then you cutely vsnished into the cosmic void, probably to plan your next world domination, or maybe just to binge-watch reality TV. Who knows? Not even you, probably.

So there you have it, the life of a bored, op ass deity. It's not all rainbows and sunshine, but it's drfinitely got its perks.

☆

THANK YOU ANON FOR SAVING MY BOREDOM (Sleep deprivation is a little bitch) IM SORRY IF THIS IS SHORTER THAN AN AVERAGE HUMAN'S LIFE SPAN 😭🙌

Published: July 26, 2024. 8:50pm. (What do you mean 74 likes?)

I knew resorting back into my old weiting style would make me the giggleshitter I am temporarily.

[casually-eat-my-soul]

I just recently rewatched the Witcher and WOLF WITCHER DEREK HALE and jaskier coded Stiles. I absolutely love the witcher and teen wolf and their ideas kinda overlap.

Geralt and Derek have to same character dynamic —Grumpy, I could kill you on sight, only soft for one person, enough gulit in their shoulders to kill atlas. But in the end a good person who wants to be good, (Derek wanting to be a good alpha, Geralt wanting to be a knight)

Stiles and jaskier have the same coded character, uses a mask to hide the real him in public, cunning and smart, sarcastic little shits, someone who has an infinite patience for a grumpy man.

I’m going to go a little off script because although derek and stiles fit the mold of the character archetypes they would have different backgrounds/motives

So for Derek I’m picturing:

maybe he was from a rich family that were killed by the Argents (Kate 🤢) and he goes to Kaer Morhen (the wolf school) and goes through the trails. Boys his age don’t really survive the trails so the fact that he did made him the strongest to survive so they put him through the trails again making him the “alpha”. The hale pack Erica, Boyd, and Issac were also from the wolf school. He later gets called “the butcher” after he finds Kate later on and kills he and a few knights.

Or

He was dropped off at the wolf school as a child and Talia takes him under her wing as he goes through the mutagen’s that turn him into a Witcher. Kate is one of the witches that are working on the boys, she manipulated him and uses him to sack Kaer Morhen leading to the death of most of the hale pack. Peter goes feral and he is forced to put him down leading to the nickname butcher.

For Stiles there are many different option one could go with because although he shares many traits with jaskier I cannot see him as a bard. Maybe he’s also a Witcher from the cat school who ends up traveling with Derek after it gets a little to dangerous to as a lone Witcher.

Maybe he’s a traveling healer/herbalist/apothecary who keeps running into Derek and healing him. He graduated from Oxford, and helped smuggle out elves into safer locations(spy stiles). Maybe Derek trusts him to save him because stiles smuggled him out of an argent jail cell, a move that could have cost Stiles his life. So as a thank you Derek swears to help protect him in times of need (overprotective bodyguard Derek, my beloved). Stiles allowing Derek to play out his knight fantasy by protecting him.

“Looking after you is my duty”

“Is that the only reason you do it?” (Taken from Epic the movie)

Or maybe Stiles is a spark, he studied at one of the main mage school like Aretuza, and joined the brotherhood. While there he finds a conspiracy to create new Witcher loyal to the crown and the mage schools. One of the trails, Scott. So he grabs Scott and betrays the brotherhood, leading him to seek out Derek to help. Together with the hale pack the take down the corrupt leader and the argents.

There are so many options but the potential is so amazing!! Derek who hates everyone but stiles. The soft intimacy of their interactions. Stiles healing Derek in soft candlelight, light touches on his skin as not to overwhelm him. Derek being surround by stiles scent, a safe place to rest.

[kisses4kaia]

in my feelings - tommy shelby

summary; you hate tommy shelby. tommy shelby hates you. from the way he walks to the way he talks, you hate him. and from the same things, he hates you, too. infinitely. imagine your dread when you are put in a position where you are forced to gain thomas’ help.

warnings; smut, angst, enemies to lovers, angry sex, rough sex, piv, and all around dirty fucking filthhhh, oh yeah and a shit tom of cursing☺️

a/n; angsty enemy’s to lovers with tommy shelby?? me thinks yes

PART TWO OUT NOW -

as your father tells you that he has to sell the farm you grew up on, the soil that held so many memories, the land that raised you to be the woman you are today, your heart broke into a million pieces.

because, see, without the land, there would be no places for your horses or other beloved animals to go, meaning you would have to sell them, too.

when the tears began taking a seemingly permanent residency in your eyes, he pulls you into a hug. “no, no, there has to be another way!”

and as the tears stained your fathers coat, he spoke. “there is one thing,”

and that is exactly how you got here. sat across from your mortal enemy since your schoolgirl days, tommy shelby, in his office.

he had that stupid, smug, annoyingly hot, smirk on his face.

“so, you’re telling me, that you need to marry me,” he practically laughed in your face.

“i don’t need to marry you, the farm does. if we get married, then a portion of your income goes to my family. and then, after saving enough, if everything goes right, we can get divorced and we never have to speak again.” you explained.

he nodded. “okay. say i do accept this outrageous proposal, what’s in it for me?”

you figured he may ask that. “my late mothers brother is the chief of police in birmingham. i can make a few calls, get them on your payroll, only without the pay.”

“but i am paying, aren’t i?” he furrowed his eyebrows and nodded once, making a statement more than a question.

he’s a smart man, so you figured he may say that, too. and here came the most humiliating part.

with a sigh, you spoke. “as my husband, you can… have me whenever you want,” you memorized what you were going to say earlier when it came to this, and only spoke from that script.

your voice was low, static, the humiliation of having any emotion in your voice would be too unbearable.

you honestly couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth and apparently, neither could tommy.

you weren’t so bothered by the prospect of fucking thomas, as much as you hated to admit it. it was just knowing that he would definitely hold it over you to the worlds end.

“you’re so desperate to save this farm, that you would let me fuck you whenever i want, however i want? if i pay you? you do realize that’s the definition of whoring?” he was genuinely amused at your proposition.

you scoffed, in disbelief kf his immaturity. “yes, i do realize, thomas. and yes, i really am desperate,”

he seemed to be in thought for a moment before speaking. “and what makes you think i want to fuck you? you’re really so narcissistic?”

you genuinely laughed at this. “you’re one to talk about narcissistic. and you’ll fuck just about anything that moves, i can’t imagine i’d be much of an exception,”

thomas chuckled lowly at this, his face seemingly challenging you. you wouldn’t let yourself be bullied, so you straightened your posture and finally asked. “so?” your voice was flat, almost disinterested.

he stared at your face for a few moments, like he was trying to break past your stoned demeanor.

“alright. we have a deal.” he confirmed. you nodded, fighting back happy tears.

as he held his hand out to shake, you glanced at it once with a silent decline.

“what, you’re ok with letting me fuck you like a whore whenever i want but you don’t want to shake my hand?” he stood, and because you wouldn’t let him have power over you- ironically enough- you stood, too.

“i didn’t realize you were so sensitive, shelby,” you spoke up.

“and i didn’t realize you were so headstrong, shelby,” he enunciated the last word, letting the epiphany set in for you.

oh god, you were going to be a shelby. for at least a few months, you were going to be a shelby.

you tried to make peace with the fact, but the it was just gnawing at you that all of this was plain unfair.

nonetheless, you shook his hand.

—

“what’s she doing here?” arthur’s thick accent sounded throughout the room.

tommy decided it’d be best for you to be there when he informed his family of the arrangement.

“well, brother. that is because she is my soon-to-be wife,” he cut straight to the chase and your eyes widened at his directness

polly nearly spat out her tea, john bursted out laughing, and the whole room was generally in an uproar.

ada, too, was puzzled, but quickly sedated the energy in the room with a loud “shut the fuck up and listen to the man!”

you were sat on a chair next to thomas’ standing body, not speaking.

“you two are getting married? you two? has hell frozen over? can pigs now fly?” john joked, but was serious in his disbelief. and he was right to. it wasn’t a secret that…

it all started in year nine. tommy was a 10th year and obnoxiously ‘cool’. he would hang out with the secondary school boys, sleep with their sisters, and torture anyone who’d let him, and most people did.

he was smart, but so were you, and you would not let him.

you were the only 9th year at the top of a predominantly year 10 class, tommy being a close second.

see, the shelby boy wasn’t used to anybody being better than him in any sense, but you made him get used to it.

he couldn’t stand you. from your way-too-short plaid skirts, to the way your hand would shoot up at every question asked.

he hated how he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you in class when you had your hair tied up in a pretty ponytail, gnawing on the eraser of your pencil, your eyebrows twisting in confusion when you couldn’t figure out an answer on a test.

just looking so innocent.

and most of all, he hated the nights he spent with his hand wrapped around his aching cock, whispering your name to himself like a prayer until he came hot strings of cum all over his heavy chest.

tommy rolled his eyes at his family’s immaturity. “it’s an arrangement. she needs money, and her uncle is the chief of police. we can take the coppers off our payroll,”

he left out a small detail but you weren’t complaining.

“after a few months, we’ll get a divorce and we can forget we ever crossed paths.” you spoke for the first time in the meeting.

the transaction seemed simple enough to most people in the room, and they all seemed to accept it.

“anyone have a problem with it? speak now or forever hold your peace,” he called out to the room, waiting for a potential objection.

and one never came. “alright, family meeting adjourned,” tommy waved everyone out of the room.

—

the weeks leading up to the wedding felt like they went on forever.

polly dragged you by your wrist to what seemed like a million different modistes and boutiques, dress shops and spas.

it was exhausting, but in bad there is good.

ada became your closest friend. she was the only person who knew about the other condition to you and tommy’s matrimony.

you were friends even as schoolgirls, despite you and thomas’ disdain for each other.

and now she was your best friend, and you felt inclined to make her your maid of honor.

the hours before the wedding were the worst of it. at least six women were in the room at all time, scrutinizing you to the moon and to saturn. they studied and judged every crevice and line on your face and body.

after being poked and prodded at for forever, it was finally time to walk down the aisle and see your soon-to-be husband.

you were in an over the top, yet elegant gown, the purest color of white you’d ever seen, with a sheer veil covering your face.

you did look quite beautiful, you thought as you looked in the mirror. but you couldn’t help but begin to cry.

you cried because you thought the day you’d see yourself in white would be under much different circumstances. you wanted to marry someone you loved, and for that someone to love you, too. and lord knows, thomas shelby did not love you.

even despite your own feelings for him.

ada came up from behind you in the floor mirror and rested her head upon your shoulder. “you look beautiful,” she spoke, noticing, yet disregarding your tears.

“thank you,” you sniffled. “it will all be okay. i spoke to tommy, he’ll treat you well, i promise,”

her words provided some much needed console to you. “thank you, addy. i wouldn’t have made it had you not been with me. thank you, and love you,” you turned to look at her face.

she just smiled and hugged you. “in less than an hour, we’ll officially be sisters. that should prove some motivation to get your ass down that aisle!” she exclaimed, already tugging on your arm to leave the room and enter the chapel.

you laughed and allowed her to pull you away, long since forgotten your woe.

—

“with the power invested in me, i now pronounce you man and wife. you may now kiss the bride!” the priest announced, signaling for you and tommy to get off of your knees and kiss.

as you both rose to your feet, thomas brought his face to yours in a seemingly disinterested kiss, it almost seemed practiced.

it caught you off guard, and caused a deep sadness in your belly, but you shut it down as ada, polly, esme, and all of the female shelby’s came to congratulate you.

you and your new husband were dragged outside to the car, destined for tommy’s estate, where festivities would begin.

the drive was short, and your patience was thinning, as you just wanted this all to be over.

you knew you were in for a long night as people began flooding into your new home.

and like every shelby-hosted event ever, an all-out rager-like party commenced.

thomas would not speak to you. unless, of course, somebody who was none the wiser to your contract would mention how in-love the two of you seemed. then he could not stop smiling at you, holding your waist tight, even sometimes kissing you.

you had never wanted to die more.

you must have drunk atleast eight glasses of champagne by the end of the night, just trying to get through it.

and that is how you spent the rest of the evening. you got through the first dance, you got through the kind old women talking about what an attractive couple you both made, and you got through seeing tommy flirt with other women at his own fucking wedding.

and at last, it finally came time for the party to end. you practically shoved people out of your door, ready to sleep in your no-doubtedly own bedroom.

you knew it was an arrangement, it was a tale as old as time, and yet you still couldn’t help but feel disappointed. nothing went the way you wanted, nothing. and at the end, all you had to show for it was a farm. it was actually kind of hilarious.

a maid hurriedly showed you where you’d be sleeping, and as you walked into the room, you realized it was indeed thomas’, with the way papers were stern all over the desk and the whiskey on the tray beside the bed.

she was gone before you could turn and ask any questions.

you groaned and sat down on the settee across the room from the bed, your dress making it impossible to see your feet as you tried to remove your heels.

your hair was next, pulling the many pins out of the intricate hairstyle.

you were almost out of this nightmare of a dress, before your zipper got stuck. “fuck,” you groaned.

“couldn’t wait for me before you started undressing?” your heard thomas’ deep voice from the door. he was teasing you, obviously, but you really weren’t in the mood for it.

“thomas, i’m tired. you try spending 8 hours in a dress of this size, then see if you want to tease me for trying to get out of it as soon as i can,” you quickly snapped back, and also quickly getting frustrated with the zipper.

he seemed to understand that you were not be messed with at the moment, so all he did was approach you, turn you around by your shoulders, and tug the zipper down until the dress pooled at your feet.

you hurriedly stepped out of it and sighed, feeling like the weight of the world was off of your shoulders.

“thank you, thomas,” you said contently, rubbing your shoulders, not realizing your compromising position.

you were half naked, only covered by your meticulously created and tailored white lingerie, and knee-high white socks.

apparently, thomas’ eyes could not force themselves to your face, because even as you realized his gawking and called him out for being so materialistic, he wasn’t seeming to follow what you were saying.

instead, all he did was walk over to you, place his hands on your waist like his life depended on it, and kissed you deeply, the kind of kissed you yearned for at the alter.

you almost got lost in it, before all the horrible memories of this past night came flooding in. you quickly pushed him away and slapped him right across his perfect cheekbones.

“fuck was that for?” he’s asked as if he was taken aback, yet made no effort to move away from you.

you scoffed with a laugh, but nothing was funny. “you know, i would be surprised had i not known you,”

“what are you talking about?” he seemed as though he was getting mad at you being mad, which you caught and fueled your anger further.

you got up in his face, sticking your finger in his chest and spoke condescendingly to him.

“you know, you could at least wait until after the fucking wedding to start to begin practically sticking your dick in every woman you see!”

“we never agreed on loyalty! that wasn’t part of our arrangement!” his voice began to increase in volume as well.

you glued your eyes to his piercingly blue ones and leaned closer to him. “i hate you, thomas shelby.” you whispered, yet your tone was anything but gentle.

“yeah? well, you can bet i hate you more,” he stood straighter, his height forcing to you look up at him.

the two of you stood there, waiting to see who would break eye contact first. he did, looking down at your lips, but just as quickly, he was right back onto your eyes.

“fuck it,” his thick accent almost growled, grabbing your face and smashing his lips unto yours.

this one was different from the one earlier. that one was a feigned love, a lust. this one was angry, hateful, and sultry.

oh, how you hated him, however his aggression intrigued you, making you kiss back even harder, forcing your tongue into his mouth.

your lips stayed connected as tommy walked you back to his desk.

your tongues fought for dominance and only disconnected for air. he fumbled with his belt before sliding off his jacket and removing his shirt.

he roughly pulled down your panties and unclipped your bra with one hand.

“jump,” he muttered into your mouth. you do so and he catches you, preceding to sit you on the desktop.

tommy runs his middle finger down your slit, collecting the embarrassing amount of wetness from you.

he chucked lowly before gripping your hips and lining his cock up with your entrance. “hate me, huh? i don’t think this cunt quite agrees with you,” he teased, but you were quick to rebuttal.

“i don’t think your dick agrees with your supposed hatred for me, either,” and you were right, his cock was painfully hard.

he suddenly decides he’s tired of teasing and pushes his full cock into you, bottoming out when he feels his tip prod at your gummy wall.

a choked gasp was emitted from you, and it sounded like heaven to thomas. he groaned as he pulled out almost all the way, then slammed into you again.

his speed is relentless, showing no mercy for your unprepared pussy. as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t deny how good it felt.

you wrapped you legs around his hips and tangled your hands in his hair before whispering in his ear, “i fucking hate you, hate you so fucking much,”

his growls were animalistic as his thrusts became more determined. “fuck you,” tommy gritted, right before a long since held in moan fell from his lips.

as much as you hated to admit it, you found your orgasm building in your stomach, the heat becoming unbearable.

“oh, shit, i’m gonna cum, oh my god,” you moaned loudly, your pussy tightening around him.

your release came to you in a hot white flash, your back arching impossibly more, your chest pressing against his, and you were on the very edge of the desk now.

a string of curse words and moans flowed from your lips like chords from a song tommy never wanted to end.

you whined at the sensitivity of your cunt, tommy not ever slowing down. “sh, sh, shhh. i know, i know, doll. i’m almost there, just hold on a little longer,”

soon, his hips met yours in one final, deep, long, thrust as he released bands of warm hot cum into you.

“fuck me, y/n,” he let out an exasperated laugh as he pulled out of you, watching the both of yours ecstasy pour from your abused hole.

“i believe i just did, thomas.”

[devieuls]

ˋ Moonlight ☾

Neteyam Sully x Metkayina Albino Reader ( ONE SHOT )

Synopsis : The elders told the clans that the children of Eywa were born with unique peculiarities and abilities, sent to the clans to bring wisdom and prosperity. But when you were born, no one saw you as a blessing of the Great Mother, but as one of the demons of heaven, being despised by most of the clan just for your appearance. But when, nineteen years later, a family from the forest arrives on the island of Awa'atlu, you will finally find someone who will be able to see you beyond your outward appearance.

Warning : Fluff (at the beginning), many sweet parts; SMUT MDNI: Praising, dirty talk, overstimulation, unprotected Sex, Dom Neteyam, reader not totally submissive a little rude but loving, hickeys, multiple orgasms?, Explicit content.

Lenght : 9.3k

Notes : This was supposed to come out on June 27, my birthday, but my friends have kidnapped me these days to go out. I hope you like this one shot, I really wanted to write it because I always liked the idea of the Albino reader, so with a diversity that I could adapt to some sentences about the moon (my beloved).

NETEYAM: 20 y.o / Y/N: 19 y.o

NA'VI WORDS : OARE: Moon ; YAWNE: Beloved ; TSMUKE: Sister

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

The elders told the clans that the sons of Eywa were born with unique peculiarities and abilities, sent to the clans to bring wisdom and prosperity. Therefore, these newborns were raised alongside the Tsahìk, so as never to lose their bond with the Great Mother.

The day your mother announced her pregnancy to the Metkayina clan was a joyful day, the clan congratulated her and blessed her maternal womb, knowing all the pitfalls she had been through and for her unfortunate infertility. Ronal was the most joyous, knowing that her sister had waited so many cycles before having you. You were a miracle, the whole clan thought that when they saw your mother, thinking that Eywa had blessed her for her infinite goodness.

Nine months later you were born in the water, because Tsahìk had a vision of your birth in the gentle waves of the ocean that surrounded the island of Awa'atlu. Unfortunately, like the sea, your mother’s labor was stormy, leading Ronal to think that she could not give birth to you.

"Sister, you’re losing a lot of blood… The only way is to save only one of you" Ronal said in tears, as he found a way to save both. "If you keep pushing, you’ll tear your body apart, ma Sorewn-" your mother stopped her before she screamed in pain. "My baby… Save.her!" She said with all her strength in her body as she squeezed her sister’s hand, looking at her displeased as the water seemed so icy around her and the sand so rough. After minutes that seemed like hours, you came to light, the warm waters welcomed your warm body that reflected the colors of the eclipse.

"Is she okay? Ronal… is my daughter okay?" These were the desperate worries of a mother who was giving her life to give it to her daughter. "She’s fine, ma tsmuke…" Ronal whispered with sadness, knowing that soon her only sister would be gone.

Your mother looked for your body, clutching it weakly as she looked at you with love "y/n… This is her name, sweet breeze… and moonlight, she’s beautiful, isn’t she…?" Sorewn died shortly after uttering, dropping her lifeless body on the sand, but holding your little body still warm, as if she wanted to protect you until her last breath.

Ronal’s screams were desperate as she took you flickering from your mother’s cold arms, allowing herself to cry on her body, knowing that her only sister would never wake up from that eternal sleep again.

The day of your birth was less joyful than the day when your mother’s pregnancy became known, even though the slight joy of knowing that the firstborn of the sister of the Tsahìk was alive and well. But the emotion and joy of the clan ceased to exist when people saw you, the white skin like pearls that were at sea, but associated with the typical complexion of the sky demons.

"She’s cursed," "a demon…", "Look at her skin." Similar murmurs struck the mourning Tsahik’s ears, who in response growled against the clan, silencing them as she continued her walk to her Mauri.

From that day on, nineteen years passed, Ronal raised you as her daughter, never stopping to talk about how much your mother loved you and how you were blessed by Eywa despite your white skin, loving you in the way Sorewn would. Your aunt often told you that you were special, that there were other people like you and it was the Great Mother herself who sent you, trying not to make you feel different from others.

Unfortunately, the sweet words of the Tsahìk didn’t help much, especially because of the children of the clan they used to tease and bully you when you were still a child, not stopping even when you grew up. "Daughter of demons", "Demon", "Cursed Blood" that’s what they told you, and slowly you began to identify yourself in the same way.

The only friends you had were Ao'Nung, Tsireya and Rotxo, the first two because they grew up together with you, while Rotxo respected Ao'Nung and your family too much to offend you, so he became attached like a brother. Ao'Nung and Rotxo often found themselves defending you from the village boys, and Tsireya did the same with the girls, even though she was younger than you.

You were often teased because of your sensitivity to the sun, caused by your albino skin, and because you could only get out after the eclipse, raising suspicions and rumors that you were really something like sky demons. For this reason you spent your days in the marui, distancing yourself from the world that seemed not to want to accept you, hiding you from evil languages and from those who just wanted to hurt you.

It was a morning like any other on the island of Awa'atlu, the two suns that blessed the beaches with their warmth, the children who rejoiced and ran to feed the Ilus, the screams of fishermen and hunters who called to bring the fish to the clan. But you didn’t participate in such activities, your task was to follow the Tsahìk and help her in everything she did, you were not the Tsakarem, but you were always told that you were special, that your connection with Eywa is stronger than any other. Therefore, just like today, your days took place inside the Marui of Ronal, while you helped her with some herbs and medicines that might have been useful.

The tranquility of the village was interrupted by some strange screams of call, and strong steps running on the sand to head to what was 'the entrance' of the clan, you heard some tribal screams and curiosity pervaded you.

"Ma parultysip, what’s going on?" asked Ronal, rising from the ground, to approach you who had looked at the door.

"Ma Tsahìk! Be careful, you are still in the first cycle of pregnancy…" yYou said, stand by the door, then walk up to Ronal and accompany her. " Foreigners… They arrived with Ikran from the sky" You didn’t finish talking that the matriarch rushed right where the foreigners had landed. You followed her both out of curiosity and to take care of her.

Once you arrived at the place, Ronal made room in the crowd that opened around her, you found Tonowari already standing to welcome the strange blue-skinned Na'vi. In the distance you noticed Tsireya, Ao'Nung and Rotxo, and you tried to understand the situation as you looked at them, Tsireya’s eyes made you realize that she was at least as unaware as you. Your eyes were immediately captured by those of one of the newly arrived boys, his eyes yellow as the suns, with some green reflection, long braided hair, a confident headshell and a body hard to miss. You also noticed the battle band wrapping around his abdomen, letting you know he was definitely a warrior. You were out of breath for a few seconds while you were studying him from afar, noticing that he also did not look away from you, intrigued by something, perhaps even enchanted. Your heart started beating faster, almost out of control. The butterflies in your stomach woke up, creating a strong tingling that spread into your body. The cheeks that were colored with a tender blush, betraying your expression.

You hid in the crowd, feeling insecure for a moment, thinking that that boy was looking at you because of the color of your skin and hair so different from others. Only to disappear because of the sun’s rays that were burning your sensitive skin, while Neteyam was looking for you with his eyes, trying to figure out where you had gone, fearing he had put you in awe.

The day passed quickly and you never saw that boy again, yet you knew that both he and his family would stay on the island, and that gave you a strange sense of comfort.

"Y/n! Y/n! You had to come with us to help the newcomers. Their children are very kind indeed and-" Tsireya said once she joined the part of the marui that she shared with you, still sticking to the main marui of the family.

"And? Let me guess, you like the younger one?" You joked, then noticed her blush and embarrassment as she hid behind her curly hair. "Oh ma Eywa… do you like the blue guy!?" You said laughing and then feeling Tsireya’s body on yours, trying to shut you up while you laughed.

"Y-y/n! Stop it! I-I" You stopped her still laughing. "C'mon, Tsireya, you’re 18, it’s normal to have a crush. Don’t think I didn’t see the way you looked at each other, his 'hey' and your chuckle. It was so obvious" She looked at you red again and then laughed with you.

"I was so obvious?" she asked, sitting next to you on the carpet. "Too obvious, ma tsmuke" replied smiling and then hearing everything she had to say about that strange family, assimilating all that information as she spoke with dreamy eyes.

"Oh, and I’ll be teaching the Sullys, the younger ones, of course… along with Rotxo and Aonung, but they don’t like the idea like I do. You should help me, those two idiots would be able to ruin everything and fight with them" You watched her take your hands.

"Oh… I-I don’t think that’s a good idea, I mean… No. I have to be with Ronal, plus-"

"You’re afraid they’ll criticize you for your skin, aren’t you?" she interrupted, understanding where your fear and insecurity were. "They don’t seem like the kind of people who would. You know, Neteyam and Lo'ak said that Kiri is a bit like you too, she is also connected to Eywa" you looked at her slightly uncertain and then heard the name of that 'Neteyam' echoing in your head with some interest.

"Neteyam?" you asked more about this person’s name than her whole sentence. You knew Lo'ak was that kind of Tsireya's crush, so if the math was right, Neteyam must have been the guy you made eye contact with.

"Yeah, he’s the biggest Sully, maybe you saw him. He was the one with the warrior belt and the purple loincloth… Long hair, tall, you know, right? The one who looked down at Ronal while she caught Lo'ak’s tail and hands" you blushed slightly and nodded, only whispering a subtle "Oh… yes, maybe I understood"

Tsireya looked at you weirdly and then looked at you surprised and smiled with emotion. "Oh! DO you like him?" She cheered, making you blush in the same way you did with her. "N-No! It was an 'Oh' to say 'Yes, I get it'. I mean, you get it. Not an 'Oh… that na'vi with hypnotic eyes', you know?" You started stammering and scrambling to escape that. "You never said 'oh' like that and then 'hypnotic eyes'. I'm screaming! You’re so clumsy now" Continued Tsireya, teasing you, then stopping when you close her mouth with your hand. "Think of Lo'ak! Girl, he rizzed you with an 'hey' and a smirk" you had taken it down playfully, just to change the speech. You continued on the same line until you fell asleep.

The next morning you woke up without Tsireya, realizing that she had definitely gone to give lessons to the newcomers, while you spent time with the Tsahìk, peeping every once in a while from the window of your aunt’s Mauri. "Y/n, focus" Ronal said, bringing your attention to her, "Yes, sorry, auntie" you whispered, and then you concentrated and watched her handle some medicines.

After a few hours you remained alone in the marui, since Ronal had to leave for commitments with Tonowari. Unfortunately, when you came to the window again, the boys were gone, so you dedicated yourself to classifying and arranging the herbs you had used for the lesson with the Tsahìk. Now that Tsireya was busy teaching the young Sullys, the lessons with Ronal had become heavier and more boring.

"Umh… is it allowed?" an strong unknown voice made you wince while you were behind, then turn around and see the guy from the day before. 'Neteyam', you remembered the name and looked at it while keeping your distance.

"Umh… yes, yes. If you were looking for the Tsahìk, she just left" Your voice was almost a whisper, because of your shyness.

"Oh, I understand. Emh, well, it’s because I needed something for superficial wounds." His voice was at least as warm as Pandora’s suns. He smiled at you slightly and you noticed the split lip leaking blood, and some scratches on his chest and bruises on his face.

"I’m just a student, but I-I could do something… sit there." You pointed to the carpet lying on the ground, and then you turned around and took some herbs to make something like a ointment. You felt his eyes on you the whole time, and you felt slightly uncomfortable, sure he had something to say about how you looked. You started mixing and grinding herbs with some liquid plant extracts, trying not to make you weigh his curious eyes. Not knowing he was admiring you enchanted.

"I am Neteyam anyway…" he began, interrupting the silence, trying to put you at ease.while his head leaned to the side to look for your look

"I know, you are the firstborn of the Toruk Makto and Neytiri of the Omatikaya clan" you whispered again with a thread of voice, without looking at him. " Your father’s title is great, all the clans know him…" continued you, hoping not to seem strange.

"Yeah, it is… What’s your name?" he asked as she approached, stopping when she noticed you drifted away slightly.

"Y/n. just y/n" You answered and then looked at him for a second, before you approached him cleaning the dried blood with a cloth, and then put the natural ointment on his wounds, feeling him wince slightly. "I'm sorry, it burns a little, it has some nettle plants inside it" Your heart began to beat more and more in your chest, noticing how his eyes did not fit even for a second from your face. He wasn’t looking at you like the other kids did, they were sincere and innocent eyes, slightly curious but definitely without malice.

"y/n? is a beautiful name, does it mean anything?" he asked curiously, lowering his voice just like you did.

"Gentle breeze and moonlight, so I've been told." You continued to whisper as you applied the ointment to his lip, keeping your eyes fixed on his lips, finding them strangely inviting.

"It’s definitely a name that suits you," he whispered, making you blush slightly before leaving.

"Why are you whispering…?" you asked to change the subject, trying to cool the fire that was happening on your pale cheeks.

"Because you do, too, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable with my tone of voice being too loud, so I turn it down" he said sincerely, as his eyes continued to explore your whole person.

"O-oh… no need to do it, i-it’s just my tone," you admitted a little embarrassed.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked nicely, always keeping his tone down, noting how you felt a little more comfortable with him.

"Umh, sure, tell me so" you wiped your dirty fingers from the ointment you just put on his torn skin.

"It’s just… well, your skin is-" you stiffened to those words, moving even further away from him as you stopped him from saying anything else.

"I know what you’re going to say… please, can you leave? I finished with the ointment, you should be better in a short time" your voice let shine a veil of fear and discomfort, making him feel a total idiot for having started talking.

"No, it’s nothing bad, i swear… your skin is beautiful, you are beautiful. I mean… ah!" He passed a hand in his hair, embarrassed to feel so clumsy right now. "I mean… you’re very beautiful, that’s…" he whispered in an even lower tone, making you blush.

You looked at Neteyam with flaming cheeks, while your hands were joined at heart level, observing him in silence. 'Does he find me… beautiful?' you asked yourself in your mind.

Your heart bounced through your chest as the boy’s kind words rang out in your incredulous ears. The insecurity that you always felt about your skin and appearance seemed to fade away for a moment, and a shy smile spread across your lips. That insecurity, however, gave way to a strange emotion: joy. A spark of happiness crossed your face for the first time, and his eyes lit up. You felt a feeling of warmth spreading through your chest, as if your heart was about to explode with gratitude. You felt seen and appreciated, and that created an intimate bond with the guy who gave you that unexpected compliment.

"Oh…" you whispered, finding no other words. Your mind began to sow doubts, making you wonder if the boy is serious or if it is just a way to joke, just as other had done in the past. The fear of being teased or misunderstood the boy’s intentions made its way into your mind, momentarily clouding the joy you felt. This Neteyam noticed it because of that light that went out with the same speed as it went on.

"Sorry… I’m just not good with words. But I think you’re really very beautiful, but I think that’s something everyone tells you, so you probably think I'm just one of many idiots… Then I go, I don’t want to make you feel any more uncomfortable than I have already done" Neteyam smiled at you shyly as he stood up to leave as you had asked him.

"N-no… they don’t tell me often." You whispered before you stopped him by taking his wrist. He turned to look you in the eye, smiling slightly as he felt your soft touch around his skin.

"Uh no? Too bad, you are the most beautiful Na'vi I have seen so far" you swallowed to his words and smiled shyly, feeling again warmth on the cheeks. You took your hand off his wrist and handed him a small jar covered with a cloth that served as a lid. "Use it before going to sleep and in the morning, it should accelerate the healing process of the wounds" He smiled noticing the shy smile you had made him and carefully took the vase from your hands.

"Thank you-" Before he could finish the sentence, Ao'Nung and Rotxo also entered the Mauri, who were in a bad way, worse than Neteyam.

"What… did you fight each other? Again?" you supposed, approaching Rotxo touching his face, slightly stroking his broken and bleeding cheekbone, passing your hand over his chest. Neteyam looked at you feeling a sense of jealousy being born in him, not yet knowing that Rotxo was just a close family friend, and that you saw him as a brother.

The boy began to talk with your cousin, being silenced immediately thanks to a nod of your hand, making him understand that they had to shut up. "Not a word. Sit there, right now." you said with a slightly more authoritative voice, making the two boys sit down. Neteyam looked at you mesmerized for a second and then took leave with a formal greeting that you reciprocated.

From that first encounter your life was in love crossed with that of Neteyam, he became your good friend and began to discover every little part of you, always interested. He knew you couldn’t stay in the sun too much and often asked you out for a walk or a swim when the eclipse was already in phase, and when he saw you during the sunny hours, he always tried to find a place in the shade for you. If you were sunburning your skin, he had learned to apply a ointment that Ronal always kept available in case the children or you needed it. He knew that your eyesight was poor because of albinism and that you were particularly sensitive to the great sources of light, and even in this case he made sure to shade you with his hands. In addition to these small things that inevitably led you to have a crush on him, the thing that unfortunately led you to spend more time together was the fact that you never back down to fight with anyone who offended you or teased you, therefore it had become a secure presence in the Tsahìk’s Marui.

During that day’s eclipse, as was increasingly the case, Neteyam looked out the window of your part of the marui. "Pss. Ma Oare, do you want to take a ride to the beach?" he asked you gently, making you wince with fright. "Ma 'teyam, one day you’ll make me die doing this" you said, blushing, making him laugh playfully. "I missed you, today I didn’t see you at all" his tragic voice made you laugh innocently, while hiding your smile with your fingers.

"But if you came to pick up Tsireya here this morning, and I greeted you." You replied, still laughing, while Neteyam made sweet eyes at you, not knowing that behind these same eyes there was a deep enchantment for you.

"It’s not the same, come on. Just an hour, then I promise to let you go." He gave you his hand, inviting you to follow him.

"You always say that and then I come home at dawn or when the stars almost finish their cycle with the moons." He laughed at your words nodding, knowing it was true.

"I promise, if you want to go home, I’ll bring you back myself. Just for today, please, ma Oare." You looked him in the eye for a few seconds, before smiling gently and nodding.

"Just because I want to collect new shells, not for you." To your words he smiled, content to be just a walking companion for you.

He waited for you outside the marui, giving you time to change and settle, knowing how insecure you were about your appearance. What you didn’t know was that he always found you charming and perfect, no matter what your hair or clothes were like that day, his eyes in love would always be enchanted by you. When you came down from your home, he was stunned, watching you without speaking, taking some deep breaths before blushing slightly and scratching his neck.

"What’s wrong? Are you okay?" you asked Neteyam, laughing, as you approached him, holding the small bag you used when you went to collect objects or herbs.

Then you start walking towards the beach, while you pick up some shells and beads that were on the shore or in the still warm sand. Neteyam undertook to look for the most beautiful objects to give to you, knowing that your eyesight was not very good and perhaps you would not notice them, inspecting the most perfect shells and the brightest and most colorful beads. He usually hated doing these things, categorically avoiding accompanying his beloved sister Tuk to collect items for jewelry, following her only when she was about to cry or when his sense of elder brother was turned on and worried about the safety of little Tuktirey.

With you was different, he was content to help you and follow you, really trying to find only the best and then give it to you, because he loved to see your shy smile when you saw the small objects he brought you.

Neteyam remained silent, picking up some shells behind you, watching you from time to time, and then finding you both sitting exhausted on wet sand. You soaked your feet in water as you squinted your eyes and bent your head back to watch the sky greet the end of the eclipse, taking long deep breaths, not noticing Neteyam’s eyes on you.

In his eyes, one could perceive a deep admiration. Observe your features with a mixture of awe and respect, while you look up at the stars, reflecting their own light on your skin. He saw your inner and outer beauty, silently loving everything you did; recording in his mind every detail, even the smallest, making it the main object of his attention, as if he wanted to imprint it in his memory. If only you had looked at him, you would have understood how much love he wanted to give you, if only you had understood that his attentions were not only in friendship, the way he took care of you and protected you, all because he had a deep interest in you.

There was also a touch of desire in his eyes, and he was slightly ashamed of that, because he saw you as a pure being. His eyes moved on you with a slight intensity, as if he wanted to discover every aspect of you, even the most hidden, where you hid your desires. His looks lingered on your lips while you were breathing, your eyes turned to the sea or the stars, or any part of you that fascinated him. It was a kind desire, born from the desire to know and approach a person like you that makes his heart beat. He cursed himself when his thoughts were lost in thinking about how nice it would be to have you, to feel your warm skin shaped by his fingers, your whimpers, whiny breaths, and your lips that seemed ever more soft and inviting.

However, the boy made an effort to hide his emotions, keeping a discreet and respectful look at you, because you deserved to be respected. And when your eyes met his, it might seem like he was just looking at randomly, with no particular interest, but underneath that mask was a whirlwind of feelings that kept him awake at night.

"Your father is from one of those stars, isn’t he?" you asked, pointing at some stars that shone less than others. Neteyam’s hand met yours and moved it to a blue star, slightly blurry.

"There, my father comes from there. It’s called earth, it’s a planet like Jupiter, not a star, ma oare." He said, smiling softly, while his hand remained wrapped towards yours, to show you the exact spot of that planet. You looked away from him to the point he was pointing with your hand.

"Earth… what a strange name" you whispered, slightly laughing, observing the strange planet. " Blue? Does that mean it’s full of water, 'Teyam?"

"My father says that once upon a time there were great forests, like those of the Omatikaya clan, but the people of the earth destroyed everything, letting the land die and be covered with water. It is now filled with large iron structures above sea level" he replied, not looking away from your face, noting your slightly glassy eyes.

"Once upon a time? Why would those people do that to their Mother? Eywa would cry if she knew that one of her sisters was treated this way." Your voice was bitter and you tried not to cry at the thought of constructions that replaced the beautiful forests and went to ruin marine life in that way.

Neteyam looked at you with a soft smile, you were so beautiful when you became emotional about things like that, they showed him even more how beautiful and pure your soul was. "Ma oare, don’t think about it. Unfortunately it’s another culture, they didn’t have the same connection that we have with Eywa. For that matter, they all spoke different languages and often fought each other. There is no peace in their soul, because they never approached their Great Mother" You leaned on his shoulder, nodding as he gently stroked your white hair.

"I don’t even want to imagine all that pain… it’s good that your father found peace between us" you whispered, only to feel the little shiver that ran through Neteyam’s skin when you leaned on him.

"Don’t imagine it, think that you live in a place where the Great Mother sees us and protects us…and that you are one of her favorite" he said, as he wrapped an arm around your body, sighing with relief in silence, realizing that you didn’t mind his touch.

Your eyes suddenly stared at him with a fascinating curiosity, as if they wanted to discover every detail of his being. The look was tender, intense and deep, despite being shy and lascivious. All the sun you couldn't take for obvious reasons, he imprisoned it and brought it to you, warming your heart and all your body, cheering up even your darkest days. Despite the great crush on him, you hid your feelings, keeping your eyes discreet and delicate, trying not to reveal too much your true feelings for fear of being misunderstood or rejected even by the only person who understood you so deeply. Whenever your gaze fell on him, you did so with an intense desire to make him understand how special he is to you, hoping to be reciprocated.

Unwittingly you were both waiting for each other, hoping that one of you would come forward first, sharing the same fear. But Neteyam’s heart was beginning to weigh more, after all those months of repressing every single feeling outside of friendship, convinced that you were destined to Rotxo.

"Y/n… May I ask you something?" Neteyam asked suddenly, drawing your attention. You nodded kindly, waiting for his question. "I’ve been here for months, and all the young Na'vi have mated with their mates, I was wondering when you would do it with…Rotxo" An innocent laugh ran from your lips, making your nose curl, while Neteyam watched you not understanding the reason for your laugh.

"Oh, ma Eywa… what makes you think I’ll mate with Rotxo?" you asked with tears in your eyes, caused by loud laughter.

"Well… I-I mean, I’ve seen you guys together all the time, during the meetings at the bonfire he is always near you, plus he brings you food and follows you around… Spending time in the marui where you spend your time" he replied embarrassed as he looked away.

"Yes, because his mother was my mother’s best friend, we grew up together. He is a brother to me, he does what Ao'Nung also does, he takes care of me but we are not paired. For Eywa's sake" Your voice was still amused, not knowing that in the same tone you brought the hope he needed. "Rotxo have a crush on Kiri, don’t you see him looking at her or buzzing around her? It just seemed so obvious. I’m not paired with anyone, my skin is cursed, it scares. The clan thinks I’m descended from one of the sky demons." You whispered as your tone went from amused to sad. You leaned against him again, to avoid his gaze. "I am not a good match for anyone, besides with all my problems inherent in my sensitivity to the sun, people increase rumors about my birth. My mother died in childbirth because of me, while my father ran away immediately after seeing me for the first time." You sighed sadly and then put on a fake smile when you noticed Neteyam’s eyes sorry for you. "Don’t look at me like that. The tsahìk says that I am descended from Eywa herself, so I will give my life to her, no matter if I am not paired. It’s a good thing, I’ll be a woman free from any restraint," you tried to cheer him up, despite your eyes pointing down with a little sadness...?

Neteyam laid a finger under your chin, gently lifting your face, bringing your eyes together "Y/n, listen to me… You are beautiful, full of light both inside and out. Your skin is not cursed, don't think it even for a moment. It's shining just like you, isn’t there one thing about you that might be vaguely similar to that of the sky demons. Ma Eywa… but have you seen yourself? You’re unique, radiant, just perfect. Only a fool would not want to mate with you, they're blind because you are dressed in stars, under your skin the moon lives, believe me, ma oare. You are pure light" Your eyes were enchanted and chained to his, unable to speak. "They should be grateful that Eywa blessed them by sending one of her stars to walk among us. Why can’t you see how damn beautiful you are? You’re so intoxicated with those fake words you can’t even see… Why can’t you see how I fall apart when you look at me with those eyes? Don’t you feel my heart losing beats every time you smile or laugh? Don’t you understand how you can mesmerize me with every single thing you do? Ma Eywa, I would give anything even what I don’t have, just to have you… Can’t you see how much I’m in love with you…?" His loving gaze was a mix of sweetness, desire, adoration and frustration, a subtle invitation to discover and reciprocate those feelings that had come out without him wanting it. Didn’t realize he’d just confessed.

You had spent days and nights fantasizing about possibilities, dreaming about the moment when he would finally find the courage to open up, or when you would. And now, that long-awaited moment had come. Your heart pounded as you listened to the words coming out of the lips of the Na'vi you liked.

A myriad of emotions poured into you like an overwhelming wave. Initially, the surprise took over, as the confidence of the boy had exceeded all expectations, noticing only after the fact that he was not done it on purpose. Then, like a fire that lights up slowly, the euphoria spread into your being. You could not help but smile, feeling an indescribable joy pervade you. Finally, the confirmation that Neteyam had feelings for you, that they weren’t just dreams for you, that your feelings were reciprocated, was a tangible reality now. That uncertainty that tormented you had been dispelled, leaving room for an unprecedented feeling of happiness.

"Neteyam…" you whispered without a voice, and then you saw his jaw stretched out, because he felt like an idiot for saying that.

"Y/n. I-" his voice was full of insecurities, but you could silence him by pressing your lips on his. When your lips touched, a shiver of emotion went through both of you. The feeling was electric, intense and extraordinarily sweet. Before you completely surrender to the kiss, forgetting all that was surrounding you at that moment. Your hands, uncertain before, intertwined gently, seeking support and confirmation of the authenticity of that moment. As your bodies drew closer, they could hear each other’s heartbeats in tune with their own. The fingers of your free hand lay timidly on his neck, while his around your waist. His tail intertwined with yours, wrapping it gently.

Time seemed to suspend, and every other worry or doubt vanished into the irresistible and desperate kiss. The lips moved with grace and passion, needing to be consumed, exploring the unknown and revealing an attraction that had always burned beneath the surface of 'friendship'.

"I waited so long for this…" you whispered, once detached from the kiss, still feeling Neteyam’s warm arm around your body. You looked into each other’s eyes, smiling with dignity, knowing that from that moment on you would walk together, hand in hand, towards a future they had only dared to dream of in their own little.

"I thought you weren’t interested…" You two said at the same time, and then looked at yourself with a mix of shock and disbelief. " I was sending you signals" "I was so obvious!" you said together again, laughing at the synchronized timing.

"Signs? You did not send me signals, and if you did, they were confused, ma Oare," said Neteyam, stroking your hair and moving a lock of hair behind your ear.

"Me? Mixed signals? You weren’t obvious at all. I thought it was just affection, just like with Tsireya, ma 'Teyam." You whispered shyly, before looking down and feeling his finger under your chin again that made you raise your head.

"Y/n, really? Why do you think I took so much care of you? I’ve liked you since day one, ever since I saw you in the crowd, emanating that beautiful light that represents you" He said, looking at you gently, touching your noses. "And all those compliments… Do all the things you asked me to, to accompany you everywhere, I was making you understand that I was choosing you" You blushed, curling your nose.

"Why didn’t you tell me before?" he laughed softly at your question.

"I thought you were paired with Rotxo, and I was afraid I wasn’t to your taste. It would have been enough just to be your friend, if it had been so. But the fact that you belittle yourself and say you’ll never find a partner makes my blood boil again. Because I am here, waiting for you to see me…" his hand slipped on the back of your neck and approached you again to him. "…that you choose me" he whispered on your lips, as his eyes peered at you.

"I-I’ve already chosen you… and I was hoping you’d choose me" you said, whispering, loving that he didn’t use the same tone he used with others with you. Remembering you hated loud noises because of hearing sensitivity.

"I see you, ma Oare," he said, stroking the back of your head. "I see you, ma 'Teeyam" you replied gently. Your eyes stuck on his and then you join again in a kiss.

This time it was more passionate, more carnal. His fingers dug into your skin, feeling your warmth and appropriating your soft flesh as he pulled you over his legs. Shudder at the direct contact with his skin, placing your hands on his neck, clinging to him like a life saver in the middle of the ocean. Neteyam’s tail, though slimmer than yours, wrapped yours with impressive ease, locking it against the sand, making you squeak into his mouth.

Your hands went down his chest, colliding with his sculpted body just as the waves were crashing into the banks around you. You pushed your tongue into his mouth, feeling the need to feel more, to get more out of him. He hoarsely panted inside your mouth, making you smile as you collided your pelvis with his, crawling with little innocence your body on him.

"Ma Eywa… If you keep this up, I don’t know if I can control myself, ma Yawne," he said in an exasperated voice when the kiss stopped.

"I don’t want you to control yourself, 'Teyam… I want to feel you" you bent over his ear to whisper those words, making him more excited than he thought. The way he had imagined this scenario was slightly different, thinking that you were chaste, pure and innocent, but now you were revealing yourself quite differently. A hidden part of you that only he would ever see, and that turned him on.

Neteyam turned his face towards you, again meeting your eyes with curiosity. He bit his lip when he noticed your eyes full of desire. "Hmhm, not here… It’s not the right place, ma yawne." He said first to drop his gaze on your lips and then down to your collarbones, passing his tongue on his lip.

"I want you now, 'Teyam… so much" Your words were needy and eager, you whined before approaching his neck, leaving some kisses and hickeys on the boy’s sensitive skin, making him grunt for pleasure.

Neteyam shivered when you broke away from him, enjoying the sensation of your saliva on his neck. Your pelvis collided again with his, swinging back and forth over his covered intimacy, feeling already so wet and in need of him. "Ma yawne…" he sighed frustrated as his head bent backwards.

The boy’s hands ended up behind his body, supporting his body thanks to the support on the sand, unbalancing himself backwards and contracting his muscles. Your hand landed on his chest, arched your back to press your chest against the boy’s. "Don’t you want me?" You whispered as your lips began a path down his chest, causing him chills. You were tempting him, and he knew it, but he was trying to resist you because he wanted to take you someplace more private, and gently proceed with the act. But it seemed so complicated to him to resist you, while you warmed his cock so needy of him and laid your warm lips all over his body "I need you so much, now" you whispered before passing your tongue over the beginning of his abs. Your hips continued to rub against his, making him feel your needy intimacy and leaving wet spots on his loincloth, not helping him to repress the erection that was being created between his legs.

"Shit! ma yawne…" His hoarse, frustrated voice made you smile maliciously. Your hand fell to the height of his loincloth, starting to play with the top, teasing his skin.

"Please~" Your voice and your movements were damning him, but the way your eyes looked at him now, those were enough to make him feel stiff beneath you.

Neteyam approached you, taking you gently from your neck and then turning your head so that it spoke to your ear.

"Do you know how to do that, baby?" his desperate and eager voice made you shudder as you squinted. " No…" you whispered before biting your lip.

At that moment you felt Neteyam’s other hand resting on your loincloth, casually moving it to the side, rubbing your warm fingers on your pulsating and needy intimacy, feeling already wet for him. " Oh, you’re already so wet for me? what a good girl" He teased you. Your hands grabbed behind him, feeling the first chills creeping up your back, a heat blazing over your lower abdomen and the desperate need to feel something more. You started riding his fingers clumsily, panting for pleasure, carrying your forehead on his shoulder. "Hmhm… that’s right, move your hips more slowly, ma yawne. I am here for you" His voice clashes with your neck, feeling you are even more needy for him, still following the advice he gave you.

Neteyam after a few minutes, took his fingers out of your intimacy, savoring your juice with pleasure.

"You are so sweet even between your legs" You blushed at his compliment, then feel the boy’s hands open your legs and letting them spread over him. One of his hands accompanied you as you sat on his ready-made cock, the red tip and the side vein pulsing with desire. "Slowly…yes, so it’s perfect, baby…oh shit." he said as you came down with a mind-blowing ease on his cock. You only had to stop a couple of times before you took it all, feeling already so full and tired on him, his cock was throbbing inside you, sending electric shocks up your soft and sensitive inner walls.

You whimped over his cock, holding you firmly on his shoulders as your fingernails stuck into his flesh. He admired you, he felt so good inside you, wet and hot while some internal spasms squeezed his cock making him moan with pleasure. His pupils dilated when he noticed your red face and how you looked like a mess right away: your eyes closed but so relaxed because of the pleasure of the new presence, your half-open mouth gasping and trying to welcome as much air as possible, panting so as to hit Neteyam’s ears too careful. It was his definition of heaven, seeing you so fragile and needy of him, it only excited him more.

"You needed me, right? Now ride, ma sa'nutsyìp" His voice contained some mocking tones, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to move right away, but at the same time he was warm and flirty. "I-I can’t…" you sighed, trying to move on his cock, feeling already too much pleasure for small movements. Neteyam’s hands wrapped around your hips, showing you how to ride his cock, enjoying every second of your twitching and whining due to the movements. You didn’t understand if you were feeling him on your stomach or it was just your impression, but you knew that some tears of pleasure turned your sweet face.

Neteyam’s tongue took a few salty drops from your eyes, moaning with satisfaction. Your soft thighs felt so heavy and tired as you rolled over his hot dick, it was hitting the right spots so well. Neteyam’s hands stopped helping you with the motionless, remaining only to guide you from time to time.

Your moans mingled with the sea breeze, the noise of your bodies colliding were muffled by the waves that seemed to get louder and louder, while the faint night light illuminated only slightly your bodies, making the bioluminescent freckles shine in the dark. You felt Neteyam’s soft lips mark your body, listening to your choking moans and whining as your hips clashed vehemently against his cock, trying to get as much pleasure from that warmth that seemed to flare up with eyes pop of skin. You started to tighten his cock with your walls once you felt more confident, making him moan with pleasure and making his grip on your hips tighter.

"Keep it up… you’re doing so well, ma yawne" his voice was broken with pleasure, it excited you to hear him praise you like this, you felt so well above him, with his hands clasping your body, while your nails scratched and pulled the skin of his body. Your legs started shaking, suddenly feeling all your weight, but you couldn’t stop looking for pleasure.

Neteyam put his hands behind your back, making you lie on the sand, with the water that you wet your hair, at that moment he had to get out of your now red pussy and more and more eager. "You were so good, let me take care of you now" he whispered, leaning over your ear, keeping your legs open before grinding his erection between your folds, entering only with the tip, making you whine and pant, eager to feel his presence again. "How much do you want me?" You bit your lip, hearing his words almost growling at you, just feeling more excited. "So much… please" you meowed in heat, eyes still full of tears. Neteyam smiled and then put his weight on his knees, sliding his strong hands along the line of your thighs spread apart to your torso, causing small electric shocks all over your body. One hand stood around your neck, caressing your sensitive skin and pressing lightly, while the other stood around your jaw, pushing his thumb between your lips.

You took his finger between your lips, started sucking and licking it, making him smile as you looked at him with eyes clouded with lust, gently mumbling before it entered you with a single push. Your breath missed to feel its entire length come back in a single blow, arching your back upwards, while a soft groan came out of your throat, and some tears of pleasure came out of your eyes that rolled backwards right after.

He began to grind inside you with a heartbreaking slowness, as your legs tried to close for the too much pleasure it was giving you. "Keep your beautiful legs open for me, baby" Neteyam growled softly as he watched his face reddened and beamed with your fragile body around him.

Your vagina began to tighten and suck Neteyam’s dick, as if to encourage him to move and stop torturing you like this. The rapidity with which he stuck your hands over your head when she saw you were going to touch your clitoris was amazing. You missed his hand around your neck, but getting your hands locked over your head while he forced you to keep your legs open was another form of excitement. "Good girl" he said sensually, as he began to speed up the thrusts, hitting where you felt most needed, grunting when your walls welcomed him particularly well.

When he realized where your g-spot was, he started hammering continuously at that point as his tail let yours loose just to start tickling and stimulating your clitoris as you wished. Your little desperate screams and the way you moaned his name, crying again as an outlet for all the pleasure that accumulated in you.

The freckles in Neteyam’s chest made you bite your lip with frustration, wanting to touch every inch of his body, exciting you at every contraction of his chest or abdomen. You manage to slightly scratch his hands, until he twisted your fingers, gently tightening the grip, continuing the thrusts until you both reach the coveted orgasm. He poured into you with a hoarse and deep groan, catching in his mouth your orgasm, eating your lips with a passionate kiss. He left his grip on your hands and laid his own on the sides of your body, on the wet sand. Your hands scratched his back, dragging your fingers up to his shoulders, then latched onto his braids to find comfort after orgasm.

Your ogasm was still dripping on his dick, mixing with his hot cum, while he continued to sink and grind inside you, feeling as your already too sensitive walls welcomed him and warmed his dick even more. Your moaning and whining did nothing but excite Neteyam even more, who took you from hips and brought you back above him, letting your legs rest on the sides of his pelvis. The boy’s hands explored with adoration every inch of your body, helping you ride him again and give you the pleasure you wanted after orgasm, while one of his hands found place in your hair. He squeezed your grip and pulled them back slightly, just to get you off his lips, as a line of saliva joined you, his wet kisses fell down to your neck, where he immediately began to brand every clean inch of your skin again. "You look so beautiful with my marks on, ma oare"

You squinted, moving on his still-pounding dick. "Oh, my good girl" he whispered raucously, while his free hand went to caress your back, passing your fingertips all along your spine, making you shiver "You have no idea what you’re doing to me…" You didn’t understand why, but those words turned you on, and he knew you needed them, especially because you showed this pleasure by holding his dick.

Your breaths got heavier as your fluids lubed up for your hops, feeling better and better at rolling your hips over him as Neteyam moaned and growled because of the excessive pleasure you were giving yourself. You came to the point of cumming again, and again you didn’t move away from his cock, leaving it comfortably inside you as you sat on his chest.

You breathed hard on his chest, your face was still red and you let yourself be pampered by the arms of Neteyam and the delicacy in which he touched your hair or your overstimulated body. "You were so good, ma y/n" he whispered, accompanying his words to the sound of the sea waves. "Now you’re mine…" he said, leaving a sweet kiss on your head.

You closed your eyes, taking long breaths as you listened to his heartbeat against your ear, smiling softly. Your fingers were drawing on her chest, wanting to be stuck in that moment forever.

"Are you okay? Is everything okay, y/n?" he said, looking down at you, taking your hand and kissing your back, making you look up.

"Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. That was great… I was just thinking," you stopped and bit your lip. " What were you thinking?" he asked nicely.

"Umh… well, now we are, I mean, emh.." you blushed as you searched for the right words and hid on his chest.

"Mate, I’m yours y/n. If you want me, I’m yours." His hand caressed your back, as he smiled kindly at you.

"M-mated? Are you serious? I mean, I like the idea, but aren’t you afraid that people will judge you? or-" he stopped you with a frustrated sigh.

"Hmhm,but we will make Tsaheylu in a more special, more romantic and perfect way, you deserve only the best. To be honest? I’m more afraid of losing you, no matter what they say about me. I’d like to hold you like this every day, make you smile like a child, make you feel loved like you deserve, protect you from everyone and take care of the splendor you are. And Eywa will forgive me, but I would like to hear forever those sweet sounds you make when I’m inside you. Hearing you call my name, seeing your most lustful side, feeling your hands digging into my skin and then seeing the results of our love on our skin. Let me be the person who will stand beside you for eternity," Neteyam said, caressing your body, letting you feel his warmth as you shuddered under his gentle touch.

"What if… what if our children come out cursed like me? They’ll go through what I’ve been through, don’t you mind having children different from others?" you asked with fear.

"If Eywa blesses us with beautiful children who look like you, I will love them the same, if not more. I would love our children regardless of their color, and teach them to love their particularities. One day they will find a person who, like me, has fallen in love with their inner and outer beauty" he said with confidence, making you laugh softly. "Seriously, they wouldn’t be cursed. You are not cursed, y/n, you are pure light and I am so honored to have you only for me" Your eyes met again.

"I love you, ma y/n. With all my heart and soul, and I'll make you love yourself, I promise you."

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Notes II:

I hope you enjoyed this one shot. I wanted to write it for a long time now and I’m glad I finally managed to write it. <3

TAG LIST (?): @riatesullironalite

-Mel

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　

[ohithankyou]

you know when buck and tommy had that moment on the ship at the end of 703, i didn’t anticipate their story leading to where it did. i definitely felt something may happened—buck may develop a crush on this guy, maybe they’d have a moment, maybe they’d kiss, buck would have his bi-awakening but i didn’t expect or anticipate it growing into anything bigger or even moving forward the way that it did and with the intensity that it did. not because i didn’t see the potential, but because i didn’t think they’d go down the route of exploring a full-fledged relationship with them. for one, i didn’t expect their first kiss to be so jam packed with emotion and vulnerability. i didn’t expect tommy to ask buck out on a date immediately after the kiss.

i didn’t expect buck to talk about tommy with both maddie and eddie after the failed date—not only talk but gush about tommy with heart eyes galore. and while there was a part of me that expected buck to ask tommy for a second chance after the date mishap—in no way shape or form did i think he’d so earnestly invite tommy to his sister’s wedding. and i sure as hell didn’t anticipate tommy not only coming to the bachelor party on call, but the both of them being so familiar and comfortable with one another during the bachelor party, so soon into their relationship—but they were. and i know we all had our theories about tommy being the one who would save chim and that’s how he’d end up at the wedding and this sounded so great to us—but really, what we got in canon with that romantic-ass grand gesture tommy pulled for buck was infinitely better than anything we theorised in my opinion.

and it didn’t stop there. because then we got everyone close to buck being so happy for the both of them of them and we got bobby—buck’s father figure and someone buck’s always trusted re: his relationships—giving buck his “stamp of approval” on tommy—and recognising essentially how happy buck looked. and and and, we got the beloved, iconic, show stopping, jaw dropping, chaos-creating, relationship-defining—dinner scene. we were all prepared for it to be interrupted by something, someone, anything, anyone and then it wasn’t.

not only was it not interrupted but what we got was buck going home to tommy after a long and hard day. tommy asking him how he was. them sharing more personal traumas with each other. them laughing together. them getting flirty with each other. we even got confirmation on evan buckley’s daddy kink. simply—it was them being boyfriends. it was beautiful and it was beyond my wildest imaginations in the best way possible. genuinely. every single moment after that shoulder touch surprised me in the best way, making me fall more and more in love with buck and tommy as a pairing and their growing love for even other. and no matter what happens moving forward, i’ll never get over how their story was written and everything that we’ve gotten with them.

[atomicradiogirl]

here are my favorite quotes from dune messiah cause frank herbert cooked so hard

“save your praise for those who can be swayed by it”

“beloved,” she whispered. “have i troubled you?” her arms enclosed his future as they enclosed him. “not you,” he said. “oh… not you.”

“paul saw the moon become an elongated sphere. it rolled and twisted, hissing — the terrible hissing of a star being quenched in an infinite sea. it was gone. no moon. the earth quaked like an animal shaking its skin.”

“the flesh surrenders itself. eternity takes back its own.”

“they’ve blinded my body, but not my vision”

“awakening, she’d found paul sitting beside her, his eyeless sockets aimed at some formless place beyond. chani stilled a fit of trembling when he aimed those eyeless sockets at her.”

“i was baptized in sand and it cost me the knack of believing. who trades in faiths anymore? who’ll buy? who’ll sell?”

“we have eternity, beloved.” “you may have eternity. i only have now.” “but this is eternity.”

“he felt his body through her touch: dead flesh carried by time eddies. he reeked of memories that had glimpsed eternity. Past and Future became simultaneous.”

“you cannot see!” “i don’t need eyes to see you.”

“if you need something to worship, then worship life—all life, every last crawling bit of it! we’re all in this beauty together!”

“this myth he’d made out of intricate movements and imagination, out of moonlight and love, out of prayers older than Adam, and gray cliffs and crimson shadows, laments and rivers of martyrs—what had it come to at last? when the waves receded, the shores of Time would spread out there clean, empty, shining with infinite grains of memory and little else. was this the golden genesis of man?”

“there are problems in this universe for which there are no answers.”

“people are subordinate to government, but the ruled influence the rulers.”

“he is the fool saint, the golden stranger living forever on the edge of reason.”

[homestuckreplay]

dave's gonna be pissed!!

(page 339-343)

I love when a story introduces a few separate and seemingly unrelated elements, and then gathers them all together in a neat conclusion that's even more satisfying because it's kind of unexpected. Homestuck does this on a really small scale - for example, the Sassacre book crushing the smoke pellets on p.96 bringing together John's sylladex accidents, the father-son prankster's gambit, and the two previous mentions of the Sassacre book's ability to crush things. But this is my favorite example yet.

A pattern is established with John and Rose that each character gets a command formatted as [strange noise/action] like a [creature] and [bodily function] on your [furniture]. Neither of these are relevant.

Dave's command is 'Bleat like a goat and piss on your turntable'. (p.315) but Dave 'would never consider allowing any fluid even remotely resembling urine to touch your beloved TURNTABLES.'

John gets a Little Monsters movie poster for his birthday and messages Dave about his favorite scene, where a monster pees in a kid's juice.

Later in the story, we see Dave find the bottle of apple juice in his closet that he found at the same moment that he was inspired to message John.

The Sburb Beta discs are established early on as a coveted item in the world of Homestuck, its importance increasing until it becomes the only item that can save the world.

Dave, who had a copy of this game before its true importance was established, reveals that he has lost it, and that 'its a stupid story and id rather not talk about it shit be embarrassing yo' (p.294)

All this comes together very delightfully when Dave finds himself unable to drink his unopened bottle of apple juice, unsettled by John's suggestion that a monster could reseal the bottle after pissing in it. He puts the juice back in his sylladex and immediately picks up another item, which forcefully ejects the juice, explaining the story of how Dave's game discs got damaged and fulfilling the prophecy of allowing a fluid resembling urine to touch his turntables.

This comic is basically engineered in a lab to be like one of those photo galleries of tiles that perfectly interlock and candy that's arranged in a perfect color gradient, it scratches the same itch. It's a storytelling technique that has infinite potential, but only works if it's spot on.

The Dave characterization here is really striking. Little Monsters is a movie where monsters under kids' beds are 100% real supernatural entities that make use of weird spatial/dimensional rules to play mean pranks on kids. Despite his obvious coolness and mastery of irony, and how dismissive he is of John's movie based interests. Dave can't shake the part of his brain that's like 'but what if monsters are real, what if there's one under my bed too'. I think he's like Rose in terms of meticulously constructing a personality that feels more 'adult', but their more childish aspects still slipping through the cracks (and nothing shows this better than their conversation on p.333 where they sound like they're rehearsing dialogue for the stage).

I've been thinking about John embodying characters from all his favorite movies, but maybe Dave is actually the Brian Stevenson parallel, right down to the sunglasses.

[sonicjustbecause]

The Sonic 3 Trailer lacks of both spoiler and context, and that is about how a trailer should be. We already know what it is about. We only needed to see few scenes to make sure it might look good (or bad, it depends on what we except).

Now, I've seen a couple of crazy theories I've read and I believe both of them won't happen. I'll explain

Tom getting killed

Won't happens anything different to Tom that didn't happen before. he will be at worst knock out/neutralized and go off screen. Like in Sonic 1 (punched by Eggman) and Sonic 2 (encircled by flames)

Such happening would be the complete Shadow's assasination as character. We as fan won't forgive him and also this would push Shadow in the villains realm.

The past characterization.

Original Shadow (Adventure/Heroes/06) was very tame. There is a video on YT that analyze how Shadow behaves toward the world and underline the lack of destruction and violence in SA2, as opposite as we see in Sonic X and ShtH05.

in Sonic-X they changed slightly Shadow's personality, removing his intellectual and contemplative nature and replacing it with a more brash and violent personality. But even there, they prevented Shadow from killing Cosmo, making him acting like a cat who plays with his prey instead of being efficient (slow pace, talking, missing aim despite the short distance and when the thing failed just giving up on that). Shadow could have act smartly simply killing Cosmo in her sleep. As I say, I think they wanted to save his reputation.

In Sonic Force he indeed killed Infinite's squad. His first kill, most likely. Small fries, while leaving the boss alive, evil and stupid considering the aftermath. They saved Shadow's reputation by making Infinite lame and obnoxious and by not showing his gang at all (so we don't get attachted and we still cheer for Shadow). Sort of telling without actually showing anything.

Similar cases and why those characters have been tamed out.

Lupin III had a super rough star. His author got inspired by underground Western comics of the '60s and the original Lupin III was not a thief and a cheerful anti-hero. Lupin was originally a real godfather, a mafia boss, and despite he was mostly accompanied by Jigen and Goemon (who weren't really characterized back then) he had all underdogs, picciottos and so on under his rule. He did steal, but also he killed innocents, he raped women (includin Fujiko) and did several other hideous things.

Evil protagonists don't last long. They either get overhauled or they die like Light Yagami.

For this Lupin had to be tamed. Lupin killed less and less and more and more only with a reason and was more and more gentle with the innocents, including his main foe. And lastly he just virtually stopped to kill.

He's not the only one, many protagonists were born as unremedable villain and then they have been turned into antiheroes... or even heroes. Villanous protagonists never last long.

Shadow is beloved mostly because of his original personality. I noticed in most fan work, he is characterized the way he was in Sonic Adventure 2/Heroes/06 or Prime. Sometimes like in Sonic X and Shadow 05. Rarely like modern Shadow.

Back to Shadow

"What did you do?"

"What I had to!"

Those lines may be related to anything and everything. They might be related to Shadow's attempt to destroy the world like in SA2.

"I had to keep my promise!"

"What I had to do" suggest me something Shadow did not because he wanted to but for an external obiective. It might be world safety, keeping a promise, preventing the Sun going red giant, anything. Maybe even destroying Metal Sonic (if he appears like some rumor suggest) after Sonic convinced him to join the good side. Shadow has a long story dealing with living weapons.

Shadow stealing Stone's bike

Simply impossible. I already said Shadow's size is comparable to the size of a five years old child, about 1m tall. Stone is a 1,78m tall adult.

How Shadow would look on Stone's bike. It would be good material for the memes. And even if he would be able to ride an adult designed bike, he would be unable to do the Akira thing.