#sorry if this sounds self centered its just

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

request: hiii idk if u take these kinds of requests but id like to see jealous reader (preferably if reader and hoshina are already in an established relationship and reader works in a different division, meaning they dont get to see each other much) like maybe he’s used to calling okonogi “my dear” and its the first reader heard him call anyone with a pet name like that and she starts to overthink and gets pouty/ sulky and hoshina doesnt notice it at first but when he does he starts teasing her which doesnt help HAHAHAHA if its ok can it be hurt/ comfort and end in fluff & HELLO!! can i request an angst to fluff with hoshina where reader thinks he likes okonogi more than him especially since he is against revealing him n reader’s relationship to the third division (for other reasons of course). hopefully this isnt too specific!! i hope u have a wonderful day:))

notes: hoshina calls the reader “darling”, hurt comfort, him accepting jealousy a valid emotion (very important to me i fear), so sorry i merged the reqs!! i hope this was satisfactory for both TY FOR THE REQ!, this is a twt thread i thought about while writing this, (l/n) mention in the bonus part

wc: 1400

Oh, you hated when this happened. You hated when your heart started to tighten in this horrible way you knew well. You hated being jealous.

You hated how self centered it made you feel and how it ate away at your thoughts and feelings. It made you feel like your good thoughts were disintegrating to horrible ones. However, what you hated even more was how it meant you were doubting his love for you— and that was the last thing you wanted to do. You didn't want to doubt him, nor did you doubt him, but when the jealousy got to your head it was over. You were stuck in a loop.

To top it off, the cause of this all was truly harmless and hardly that big of a deal, but that's usually how most anxious thoughts start. They start little.

You were called to visit the 3rd Division to help with research on a field you were particularly knowledgeable on, and you happened to hear Hoshina's laughter from the operation room, so you went in to take a peek.

“It was not that funny,” Okonogi was saying to him, but Hoshina only continued to laugh.

“Yes, it definitely was,” he laughed. “I knew Kafka would forget about that hole in the training grounds again.”

“Why don't you remind him, then?”

“Comedic relief, of course.”

“Alright then.”

“Okonogi dear, you're no fun,” he said.

They said a few more things, but you couldn't seem to focus on their words. ‘Dear’? Was that merely a simple pet name? Or was there more to them than you initially expected?

Oh, the worries started to fill your head. And they were things you didn't want to be worried about— Okonogi was always so sweet to you when you popped by and you knew Hoshina loved you. The last thing you wished to do was doubt them, nor did you want to make things awkward around them. There were just so many things that you just didn't know about, being in a different division as him. You doubted they even knew you were dating, and the voice in your head would only get louder.

It was then that Hoshina saw you at the doorway and called over to you.

“Are you done with work?” he asked, his voice excited and hopeful. Your heart stung.

“Not quite yet,” you tried to sound disappointed, but for the right reason. “I’ll get going now.”

You walked away from the room as quickly as you could, seemingly naturally. You didn't want to be there and you didn't want to talk to him before calming down first— you were sure you'd say something silly if you spoke now.

Yet, immediately you heard footsteps behind you and a hand you knew well grab yours.

“Soushirou?” you asked, turning to look behind you.

“What's wrong?” he asked, his voice soft and visible concern in his eyes. “Do you feel unwell?”

Pang in your chest again.

“Not at all, nothing's wrong?” you said, but you could see the way he pursued his lips— the hurt in his eyes from how you wouldn't tell him what was troubling you. Gosh, why did you feel this way? Why must you feel much silly emotions.

“It's truly so stupid,” you said. “I'll tell you another time.”

“Alright,” he said, letting go of your hand. That one was your bad— you knew he wouldn't push you any further, even if he wanted to.

Dinner that night was awkward. You weren't even that jealous, but the fact that you felt something was gnawing at your brain upset you. Not to mention the fact that you were keeping something from him made you feel even worse.

“How was your training?” you asked.

“Alright, I suppose,” he said. There was a horrible moment of silence. You weren’t sure what to say.

“I think I’m getting a hang of this new technique,” he finally continued, but you wouldn’t look up at him— you were afraid he wouldn’t look your way.

“I see,” you said. “That’s really cool… I’d like to see someday.”

“I’ll show you as soon as its better,” he said.

The rest of dinner felt… quiet. The two of you still talked throughout it but it was terribly different from the usual lively catch-up you’d have— it was heart-wrenching quite frankly.

So as you’d imagine, going to sleep was even worse. You subconsciously faced away from him and pretended to fall asleep quickly, hoping he’d sleep soon too. You hated what was going on, but you just couldn’t bring this up. You knew it was silly and you knew you’d forget soon enough. You’d probably regret making such a big deal out of it.

“Darling,” he said, and immediately you turned to face him. He was already facing you. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel like it… I’m sorry I pushed you.”

Gosh, you thought. You gulped. You wished he wasn’t so kind.

“You’re going to think I’m so annoying though,” you said, voice cracking in a way you didn’t wish for it to and immediately his eyes widened.

“Darling, what happened?” he asked, suddenly worried. “You could never be annoying to me.”

“I… heard you…” you started and he just listened— he waited. “I heard you calling Okonogi, ‘dear.’ And suddenly I—”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, without hesitation. “I hadn’t even realized I did that, it was completely by habit. I won’t anymore.”

You finally met his eyes and the way he looked so horrified he had made you feel bad was so prominent in his eyes.

“No, Soushirou,” you said. “I didn’t mean for you to have to change anything— I know so well that both of you are so sweet to me and there’s nothing going on. I just—”

“Darling, calm down,” he said, cutting you off. “You’ve done nothing wrong, why are you beating yourself up? This was my bad and that’s about it. None of this is you.”

“I—,” you said, taking a moment to collect yourself. “I hate to be jealous, Soushirou. I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” he asked and you paused to look up at him, utterly confused.

“Why?” he asked again.

“It’s such an… ugly feeling,” you said.

“Is it?”

“Is it… not?”

“What’s wrong with being jealous?”

“Because it’s like I’m doubting you or something… when I don’t at all.”

“I think that’s a different thing entirely, no?” he asked. “You can know in your head that I’m in love with you and still feel something else— they’re not always the same. A little jealousy is perfectly healthy, I think.”

“Oh…” you said. You wanted to say so much more but there was so much to process first. Your heart swelled with such warmth.

“I get jealous too. I hate when Narumi gets too close to you or bothers you when I’m not around,” he continued on. “But in my head I know you’d never do anything to hurt me and you’d stop him if he crosses a line. I’ll try to stop if that bothers you though.”

“No,” you said. “That sounds… nice. I’m rather… happy… you were a jealous actually. But I’ll make sure to keep some more distance between Captain Narumi next time.”

He laughed. “Sounds good. But you tell me if there’s anything more that bothers you okay. I’ll fix myself up.”

“I will,” you said and he kissed your forehead. “But Soushirou, I don’t mind much anymore. You can stay the way you are.”

“No, no, stop overthinking. You need to sleep now, you have an early morning tomorrow.”

“Yeah. You too Sou,” you said and he hummed.

Once you were certain he was asleep, you kissed his cheek and slipped your hand into his. You liked holding his hand when you fell asleep, but you weren’t sure if it made it harder for him to fall asleep.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him. “You mean the world to me.”

You lightly kissed his cheek, careful not to wake him up, but to your surprised he smiled. He squeezed your hand and without opening his eyes, “You missed,” he said.

He kissed you on the lips and you laughed, snuggling up against him. “You were awake.”

“I was waiting for you to hold my hand,” he said. “I like when we hold hands when we sleep.”

BONUS:

From then on, Hoshina stopped calling Okonogi “dear” as much, and it’d only happen when it truly slipped out of him from force of habit.

“Vice-Captain, you’ve started dating (l/n), haven’t you?” she said to him one day while they were sorting through files.

“How... did you know?” he asked. The two of you had been dating for quite a while now, but he was more surprised she guessed you correctly.

“It’s terribly obvious you’re completely in love,” she said.

He blinked. And then he laughed. 

He’d have to ask you that night if he can share the news with everyone, properly, then.

[abcjxyzyeo]

What a freak.

AN; I haven't written in a whileeee omgg.. But I was thinking about this and wanted to write for it!! This might be really disgusting buuttt... Enjoy!!!

Pairing; Perv!Shigaraki x Fem!reader

summary; Finally getting some time off of work after weeks of having pent up sexual frustrations, you decide to blow off some much needed steam. Well, until you realize some of your toys are missing.

warnings; not proof read!!, masturbation(f and m),eating dried cum, oral(m), sex toys, piv, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it!!), loss of virginity, riding, using underwear as a gag, degrading, slight voyeurism, overstimulation, sub!shigaraki and dom!reader. Reader calls Shigaraki baby. reader also refers to self as mommy once or twice. quirkiness AU, the LOV is just a group of criminals. Plot? What plot??

1.8k words.

"Finally!!" you silently celebrated to yourself.

A complete day off. It was incredibly rare that you would ACTUALLY get a whole day off. For the past week you barely even got sleeping, running around doing missions for the LOV. You can't complain you love your group and the cause but you needed a break once in a while. Especially because of how sexually frustrated you've been recently.

Plopping down to your knees, you open the bottom drawer of your dresser in the corner of your room. Grabbing the bullet shaped vibe before getting up and laying on your bed. You didn't care you just needed release, turning it on the highest setting and putting it on your sensitive bud. Letting out the most erotic sounds, again you didn't care if anyone heard. (Which the whole LOV can definitely hear you.) Building up the heat in your between your legs, pooling at your center. Feeling that familiar knot in your core forming, just as it's about to snap you stop hearing vibrations and you lose the feeling. You vibrator died. "Fuck!" You yell throwing it against a wall. You had another one, but you didn't favor it. It didn't have as many settings and it was quite big in size. But you had to deal with what you had.

Standing up with a groan you shuffle back to the place in front of your dresser and go to grab it. It wasn't in its normal place. Searching through the entirety of the draw, and it wasn't anywhere. "Damn Toga." You roll your eyes at the internal thought. You and her were pretty close, you often shared bras, underwear, and even toys. So you simply thought she took it.

Making your way down the long corridor, you eventually find Toga. "Toga?" you say it almost in a whisper. She's playing a card game with Jin and Shuichi. She sets her cards down and the three of them look over at you. "YN?" She responds in a quite playful tone. You were hoping she was alone, not wanting to talk about this in front of any one other than the blonde girl you swallow the spit pooling on your tongue. "Do you um, happen to have my toy? The purple one?" You watch three completely different reactions from the group in front of you. But Toga simply smiles and shakes her head "Nope, sorry! You should ask Tenko though, I saw him go in your room earlier. You smile drops and your brows knit into a furious look. Gritting your teeth you thank Toga for her time and advice and find your self storming down the hall to Tenko's room. "What a freak! What a creepy incel freak!" You think as you nervously stand in front of his room.

You don't even bother knocking, cracking the door open and pushing it slightly. Standing there in utter disbelief at the scene in front of you. Tenko had his black sweats pooled at his ankles, shirt bundled in the middle of his abdomen, cock in fist, frantically pumping and hips bucking. But what shocked you more was the fact your purple vibrator was in his mouth, biting and licking the dried cum you had left the last time you used it. You stand there for a good few minutes, squeezing your thighs together because oddly enough the sight before you was making you incredibly horny. He lets out a guttural moan and opens his eyes that had been clamped shut. Shifting his sight over and making direct eye contact with you.

Just the sight of you was enough to push him over the edge, ropes of white cum shooting from his angry red tip, onto his exposed stomach and thighs. He was quick to grab his blankets and cover himself. "Shit YN. Didn't see you there." you barely even heard him, he muttered so quietly, his face creeping with pink blush. "I guess you're here for this, sorry I took it." he picks up the toy that's now covered in spit. But you're still standing there, shellshocked. Before your brain registers it, you're shuffling to the edge of his bed and sitting down by his thighs. "You're actually a whore." You spit at him. "A filthy disgusting cum-driven whore." wrapping your small hand around his dick, it was longer than you would expect but it wasn't too girthy. Pumping your hands up and down, your face was still laced with irritation. He let out the most pornographic grunts. "I bet you just love this, fucking mutt." Giving his length a good painful squeeze. Just that was enough to make Tenko cum for a second time, to be fair he's never been touched there by another person before! You let out a laugh coming deep from your core. "You came from that? What are you? A virgin?" you cackle at him, but he gives you an uneasy look. His red eyes shifting between your face, your tits accentuated in your low cut tank top, and his own dick. A dark red crept over his face as he slowly nodded.

"Oh shit, Tenko. Poor baby, never had a woman to touch him." You were obviously mocking him in fake dramatic sympathy. You lean down to kitten lick his tip, taking some of him cum with you. Surprisingly, it didn't taste too bad considering his diet of energy drinks and junk. Pumping him again as his tip entered your mouth. You giggle as he wraps both hands into your h/c locks. Twirling them between his finger grunting loudly as the vibrations from your own laughter sent shivers down his spine. Swirling your tongue around his tip and moving your lips up and down. You felt like you were on ecstasy. You never thought you would ever be giving your boss a blow job but it felt so right when you were currently doing it. Releasing his tip from your mouth with a disgusting pop noise, you pumped your hand along his cock at the fastest pace you could. "Shit Y/N d-don't go so fast!" He moans loudly gripping your wrist. His tip was a red color that screamed at you, you knew he was extremely overstimulated and you savored every drop of his exhausted grunts and moans.

And just like that he was cumming all over your hand, with a string of profanities and grunts spilling from his lips. You grin as he watches you through his ashy blue hair, which was starting to mat and cling to his forehead with sweat. "Aw, is mommy making you feel good?" You coo at him "Am I making your disgusting dick feel worthy?" you stand up and pull off your pajama pants in one quick motion, your tank top being added to the pile soon after. Tenko stares at your figure, which was only covered by a laced black thong with a matching lace bra. Finding your place back on Tenko's bed you straddle his hips. Lifting his long sleeve shirt over his head and into the discard pile. You beam with joy looking at his scrawny torso, rubbing your hands up and down the thin muscle on his body. Slightly grinding your clothed cunt over his re-hardening dick. You reached your hand behind your back to unclasp the bra that felt suffocating in the moment. Letting it slip off your body, you slid the thin material under Tenko's pillow before attacking his jaw and neck with your lips. Leaving dark purple hickeys and bite marks. After a while of grinding on him, you lifted off of him and pulled your panties off of your body. Sitting back down on his lower abdomen you stare at the balled cloth in your hand before reaching up and shoving it in Tenko's mouth with little to no protest. You could see his jaw flexing as if he was sucking all your flavor out of the used cloth in his mouth.

You reached behind you and lined him up with your entrance, pushing him all in in one swift motion. You'd be lying if you said this was your first time riding a guy. You feel calloused hands travel over your body, one stopping at your right tit and the other at the mound of flesh on your ass. Both of them kneading and working your sensitive skin. You begin to bounce up and down at a rather concerning pace. Yours moans mixing with Tenko's muffled grunts making an almost angelic harmony. Staring down at him you realize he hasn't stopped making direct eye contact with you this whole time. His piercing red eyes causing gears in you to turn, edging you closer and closer to the finish line. Falling over onto his chest, your tits pressed against his skin. Wrapping your arms around his neck you continue to glide your walls up and down his length. Moaning in his ear and biting at the lobe causing him to grow stiffer under you as the time passes. As you feel the knot in your lower belly start to form your feel Tenko's hands harshly grip your hips pulling you to a complete still. He lifts you up into the air a bit before roughly pounding into you, sloppily with no rhythm or set pace. And just like that your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave with a scream like moan, clenching your gummy walls around him was all he needed to be spewing white ropes deep into your cunt. He thrusted into you a few more times, making sure his cum was deeply fucked into you before letting you go. You sat there for a moment catching your breath and admiring how beautiful Tenko was. You never really noticed it before, maybe it was the way his hair clung to his forehead making his eyes slightly more visible, or it was the fact his jaw, neck, and chest were covered in your spit and love bites leaving beautiful hickeys that he wouldn't be able to cover, having to show them to the entire LOV.

Once you realized you were both staring at each other you quickly got off his, now soft, dick and to your feet. You didn't bother getting your panties or bra back from him as you eagerly pulled your pajamas bottoms and top back on and making your way to the door. But not before turning around, and flashing a cocky grin. "Hope you enjoyed that, you filthy mutt. Cuz that's the first and last time I'll let your slutty dick near me."

You quickly escaped back to the main room where the trio was still playing cards. They all shared differentiating glances as they knew exactly what had just happened. Standing behind Toga and wrapping your arms around her neck you kept thinking to yourself how badly you want it to happen again. Maybe you'd even make him your boyfriend so that disgusting incel dick was all yours.

I hope you enjoyed!! Likes, comments, and reposts are greatly appreciated!! <33 x333

[ame-perduexx]

Astrology Observations🦋

*as always* take what you want, leave what you want

*based only on my personal experiences with people with these placements*

🧚🏻cancer venus: if you've ever felt love from a cancer venus then i hope you know how special it can be. does it feel like love-bombing at times? sure. But i find it beautiful how unabashedly they throw themselves into someone they like. can it be suffocating to someone who isn't fully ready to commit? sure. but its impossible not to root for them.

🧚🏻taurus venus: wonderful, incredible, sensational style sense. thrift shop royalty. impeccable taste. can look good in anything - simply because it looks like a carefully curated outfit when in reality it took them probably 5 mins to throw together.

🧚🏻gemini venus: attracted to people who show them endless fascination. enjoys playing questions games to get to know people. knowing someones favorite color or season may seem pointless but they genuinely find a person's answers interesting.

🧚🏻as a fixed sign .... i have found i clash the most with cardinal signs. they infuriate me to no end. I enjoy the dynamic nature of mutable signs more.

🧚🏻Leo sun/moon: listen....even when you meet one and they tell you: "i'm like the most un-leo, leo ever! I hate being the center of attention!" they are LYING. either to you or themselves or both. i understand why taurus get the bad rep for being stubborn but leo's are stubborn in the way they believe they fully are the best person in the room at all times....which in a way i am almost envious of them? they have a kind of self-love that is unflinching.

🧚🏻virgo suns: make extremely well bosses. are very diplomatic and fair in how each worker is treated and never takes anything personal.

🧚🏻Sagittarius suns: for some reason.... the ones i have met and been around (ones who all identify as women) present themselves as extremely proper and pious in social settings. they love to be seen as the most put together one - especially in work-place. quiet in work environment ... but will talk your ear to death if you're sitting next to them at a dinner party

🧚🏻*trigger warning for SA* 🧚🏻scorpio placements. particularly sun,moon and mars. experience deep sexual trauma. over and over and over again in their life. started at an early age. continues to be taken advantage of throughout their lives. easy for them to associate self-worth with being sexually desired in a negative way. doesn't trust a person if they seem innocent at first, it always turns into some form of a violation.

🧚🏻gemini placements: listen to more lofi style music or instrumental. music without lyrics.

🧚🏻gemini moons: i know i've said this before in a post, and its a common understanding with gemini placements, but they genuinely are extremely talented with foreign languages. learn them quickly. hear them spoken for a while and can pick it up naturally.

🧚🏻moon opposite saturn: i'm so sorry. i know how hard it is. the depression, the anxiety, the constant self-doubt. you are truly your own worst enemy. i'm sending every person with this placement all my love.

🧚🏻libra sun & moon: have i ever truly had a deep convo with these placements? no. do i still love their company? yes. but it tends to feel surface level with them. they are not talented in expressing their thoughts in a spoken or written way without it sounding....childish. maybe its just me .... either way they would still be the first person I invite to my party. they make me laugh. maybe it's their childish naive view of the world i love. maybe I wish i could see it that way.

[moonstruckme]

Can we get a poly!marauders with a reader who has just lost their best friend(not dead, they’re just not friends because they’re friend started being a not nice person) and the reader starts to think its their fault/insecure reader :))) thanks

Thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 540 words

There’s an odd thing that love does when it changes. It doesn’t go away, just sits exactly where it used to in the center of your chest, and sours. Curdles. 

The ache behind your ribs feels almost familiar, but the pain has lost its pleasantness and it’s just pain. You swallow against it, but it won’t go away, even as James rubs firm circles around the area of affliction on your back. 

“Don’t torture yourself,” Remus tells you softly, looking up at you from the floor beside where you sit on the bed. “You did the best thing.”

You nod like you believe him, but your voice is leaden with doubt. “It feels so weird to go from talking to someone every day to not talking to them at all.” 

James makes a sympathetic sound. “You said it yourself, sweetheart, they’re not the same person you wanted to talk to every day. You’re just looking out for yourself.” 

Looking out for yourself. It sounds selfish to your ears, though you know it shouldn’t. You’re used to looking out for the people you love, and now you’ve gone and left one of them behind. Your eyes flit almost unwillingly to one of the pictures taped to your wall. It’s too small to make out, but you know it well, one of the many of you and your best friend scattered about your home. What are you supposed to do with those now, throw them out? 

Sirius reads your mind (he’s scary good at that sometimes), the mattress shifting as he leans towards you. “Just because you’re not close anymore doesn’t mean you have to hate them, or forget that you were happy during some of the time you were close.” He gives you a rare sorrowful look, raw in its understanding. You feel closer to tears than you have since you’d made the decision. “I know it’s hard to move on, but it’ll be easier if you’re fair with yourself about it. You did the best you could. It’s not your job to figure their shit out for them.” 

You nod, a hot tear cresting your cheek. “You’re right,” you tell him, or maybe all of them. “I’m sorry for making such a big deal out of this.” 

“Hey,” James chides, palm pressing harder into your back like he can push the hurt right out of you. “Don’t be. It’s a big deal to you, yeah?”

You nod again, wiping your face with the heel of your hand before another tear can make it very far. 

“Then it is a big deal,” he says. Remus hums his agreement, looking at you with sad, worried eyes. “It’s okay to be sad for a while. Just so long as you’re not blaming yourself, alright?” 

You swallow, leaning your head on his shoulder as thanks. “None of you guys can ever change like that, okay?” You’re aiming for lightness, but the effect is diminished by the croakiness of your voice. “I’ll have a very hard time ditching you, self-preservation or no.” 

Sirius makes a derisive sound, playing along as he bumps your shoulder with his. “Yeah,” he scoffs, “good fucking luck with that one. Try to shake me, and I’ll latch onto your ankles.”

[musings-ofthe-unamused]

Obey Me Headcanons

Topic: Fights

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Beel, Satan, Levi, Asmo, Belphie

Warnings: Angst, Lucifer being a little BITCH

Lucifer:

Getting into a fight with him hurts

He will point out every single way you need to improve yourself

And call you an imbecile while doing it

He’s just so pissed that he’s scolding you worse than Mammon

Call him a little bitch to throw him off

Start crying to make him feel bad >:D

Stonks!

Mammon:

He’s not the type to stay mad for long

Unless you’re like,,,legit making out with someone in front of him, he’s quick to apologize

But if you two happen to be in a really heated fight, he won’t necessarily be mad

Mammon acts more of a sad puppy dog

“Do you really think that?”

He gets very dejected its kinda heartbreaking

Pls apologize rn!!!

Levi:

Tsundere type of angry

“It’s not like I cared!”

He will deflect. 

It’s one of the worst types of defense mechanisms 

If you just leave him alone for a while

Eventually he will be so consumed with playing back the fight

That he will apologize

Feel free to flick him

Satan:

I dont wanna fight Satan

I feel like he’d slap me not that I would mind

Similar fighting style to Lucifer

He’s a little more cold and doesn’t really point out your faults

He just insults you

“Are you choosing to be this childish right now? Do you really want to fight over this?”

He’s stubborn and will totally drag out a fight

It can either end in you two awkwardly apologizing

Or not talking for weeks

Asmo:

I feel like getting in a fight with him wouldn’t be an actual fight

He’d just be super condescending

“Oh? So that’s how you feel. Cute.”

Will scoff at you (it doesn’t sound like a big deal but it is)

Gaslights

“Darling, I just don’t understand why you’re upset. I did nothing wrong.”

It will end in you storming off in tears telling Asmo that he’s a self centered ass

Only then will he slightly feel bad 

(i love him it makes it sound like I don’t)

Beel:

Beel has trouble comprehending other’s feelings

He truly tries, but sometimes it’s frustrating

And when he’s frustrated, he shuts others out

“Beel, you can’t just sit there and eat. Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to.” 

It’s very aggravating when the you can’t get through to you

It’s the fact that he won’t even try to understand

Either sit down and talk it through, or have one of the brothers explain it 

Belphie:

Two things can happen

The first is he completely ignores you

Every time you say something he just yawns, nods his head 

Or he says “I’m sorry” without even meaning it

Eventually, he’ll get so tired he’ll just go to sleep

The second thing that happens is the worst

Full on screaming match

Belphie is so fucking pissed he will start throwing insults

And maybe actual physial objects (not at you though)

If you slap him out of it, he’ll start profusely apologizing

If one of the brothers (Lucifer) intervenes, he’ll storm out of the house and disappear for days before coming back to apologize

[starcurtain]

What do you think about Sunday and Aventurine? and their interaction in 2.1, I know Sunday did what he had to do but I just have a strong dislike for him ever since. He is an interesting character though.

I mentioned on a previous ask that I wanted to talk about narrative foils/character parallels, and that ask mentioned Aventurine being similar to Robin and a little to Sunday. But I thought I'd combine that character foils idea with this post about Sunday because...

Aventurine and Sunday are Near Perfect Character Parallels

(Also sorry to Youtuber Fayato who I screencapped this image from; I literally couldn't find a single other good image of Aventurine and Sunday in the same frame!)

In media, the concept of the narrative foil refers to a character who contrasts another character; by setting the two characters and their plots side by side, the audience is better able to understand the traits of the central character.

And by setting two surprisingly similar characters in opposition to each other, it becomes very clear how even those facing similar circumstances can take diametrically opposed paths in life.

First, let's start with the basics:

Aventurine and Sunday are both characters whose real fathers were never in the picture, and who lost their mothers right in front of their eyes to traumatizing events.

They both experienced the violent deaths ("death" in Sunday's case) of their sisters.

They both were "rescued" by people who intended to use them by growing them ("grooming them" in Sunday's case) into a figure of authority.

They were both told they were "chosen ones" growing up. And yet ultimately this status as the chosen one is in doubt: Aventurine isn't sure if his family's faith is real, while Gopher Wood tells Sunday that Penacony's chosen should have been Robin all along.

They both became self-sacrificial, Aventurine through his obvious willingness to throw his life away, and Sunday through his plan to remain outside the sweet dream to be its keeper while everyone else got to live in "paradise."

They both are trapped by their situations, Sunday by his inability to leave the cage, Aventurine by his inability to accept the life he isn't able to throw away.

They both became the "villain" of their respective patches and both faced "death."

Personality-wise, they both strongly favor being in control, to the point that their scene together is an aggressive power struggle over each other.

This is how the "future" Aventurine describes himself:

Does it sound familiar? It should, since that's exactly how people describe Sunday.

But they also both prioritize their families, and they are equally altruistic at the core while seemingly self-centered on the exterior.

They both, of course, have the blessing of an aeon.

And here's where I'm going to take a massive tangent, but it's important: I do tend to be among those who think there is at least some connection between Ena, the Order, and Gaiathra.

I've heard all sorts of reasons that they can't be two different concepts for the same being, from the whole "Gaiathra is a goddess of trickery and that's not related to order" to the whole "the Order's followers worship with song while Gaiathra's followers specifically don't," but I think something that has been missing from the discussion of Ena and Gaiathra's possible connection is that "Order" as a concept has entirely different definitions depending on which cultural context you approach it from.

The most mainstream modern concept of "Order" is something that is imposed: A power from on high descends to quell the chaos of the mortal world, to "bring order" through guidance to humanity. This is very Abrahamic, very modern Christian, and that is reflected in the imagery surrounding Sunday. Sunday, as a manifestation of the Order's power, believes he will be able to uplift Penacony from the mire, free people from their unfulfilled desires and confusion, and bring about perpetual peace by enforcing his understanding of harmony on the populace trapped in the dream.

Sunday's Order is not the natural state of the world but something that must be carefully cultivated and maintained, a constant battle against the chaotic forces of life and its temptations. This type of "Order" promises an idyllic future, but at the cost of the present freedom of everyone who submits to the law, who must surrender their original fate for a structured sweet dream.

We understand this concept of "Order" because at its core, it's the one that modern societies largely embrace--ruling authorities establish laws that must be followed at all costs, even when they risk the freedoms of individuals, because they ultimately (supposedly) support a greater good. A majority of society adheres to the laws handed down from on-high, and life functions relatively stably.

Yet this conception of "Order" is predicated on the idea that the course of people's lives is decided first and foremost by the people themselves--which is why they can make mistakes, go astray, and need to be shepherded in the first place.

Without imposing structure through authoritarian power, this type of "Order" will crumble away in an instant, because this view assumes that rightness can only created by humanity, and that chaos--not order--is the natural state of existence.

Ena, who holds worlds tidily contained in her hands, who is tangled in puppet strings, who wears a hood like a nun or the Virgin Mary, and who is haloed like a Christian angel, clearly represents this definition of "Order" to a T.

But... this is not how humanity has always defined "Order."

It was not always taken for granted that people had the power of self-determination, and in fact, for many centuries and across many cultures, the concept of "the order of the world" was tied directly to the concept of destiny. Whether a volcano would explode and destroy your entire civilization, whether floods would swallow your city, whether the crops would grow or fail all depended on the pre-made decisions of supernatural powers, who were in turn often personified concepts of the natural world itself. What happened to any given individual, what twists and turns their life would take, whether they would achieve their dreams or not--all these aspects were also predetermined, decided not by the actions of the individual but by fate itself.

Thus, the world and everything in it has a natural order. Things may seem chaotic, they may even seem unbelievably horrible, but all events in existence unfold as they should. We may not understand why, but everything occurs in due course, woven into an endlessly repeating pattern on the fates' loom--spring becomes summer, life becomes death, disasters happen and are healed from, children are born and grow old. If it is your fate to die, you will. If it is your fate to fight and live, you will. To reject this natural order would be as futile as telling the sun not to rise.

The words "order" and "ordained" have the same origin.

Enter Gaiathra. First of all, she is the Star Rail equivalent of a pagan goddess--her worship exists separate of the confirmed existence of aeons, by an uncontacted and non-space-faring race. Even her description, being triple-eyed, evokes other "triple goddess" figures across history, both in modern interpretations (the triple goddess of Neopaganism) and in ancient mythologies (the three fates of Greece, the Tridevi of Hindu culture, etc.).

She is strongly associated with the natural world: The planet of Sigonia is said to be a manifestation of her very body, the rain is her blessing and acknowledgment, and she goes through a yearly cycle of death and rebirth (calling the cycle of the seasons to mind). She is said to be a goddess of both fertility and travel (likely in the sense of nomadic wandering by the time Aventurine was born). Avgin worship of the goddess manifests in the form of sacrificial cyclic knots.

Which might call to mind another pagan culture well-known for their cyclic knots: the Celts, whose famous Celtic knots represent cycles of eternity, unity, and the interconnected nature of life itself.

The Avgin prayer to Gaiathra focuses on elements of a person's life that all might be determined by "fate"--will your blood keep flowing, will your journey be peaceful, will your schemes stay hidden? It hopes that things will be as they should, that the future ahead of you is predetermined to be a good one, and that the cycle of life decided by the goddess will be in one's favor.

But while the Avgin hope for good things, they also strongly espouse embracing the reality of one's life, with suffering and hardships seen as manifestations of fate that should be accepted as facts of life. It is said that any society blessed by the Order ultimately falls--is it not the natural fate of all societies to one day fall? For mankind to return to the dust and be reborn anew?

Whatever will be, will be.

There is a reason--a logic--an order--to everything that happens.

I hope you can see where I'm going with this: While Sunday and Ena represent the concept of "Order" as a result of self-determination, a power "the strong" can wield to overcome the inherent chaos of reality, Aventurine and Gaiathra represent a different, older concept of "Order" (I can't help but see the entirely separate eye lurking behind Ena?): existence is not inherently chaotic but instead is foreordained, following endless orderly cycles life and death, weal and woe, rise and fall.

PHEW! Okay, so all of that to say Aventurine and Sunday make perfect parallels through a mirror darkly, even when it comes to the blessings they've been granted: One imposes order from on high; one continually rolls the dice despite knowing the inevitable outcome.

Both of their stories are entirely intertwined with the concept of fate, whether by opposing it...

Or accepting it.

And even at the end of Penacony, we leave both Sunday and Aventurine in precarious positions. Aventurine, while ostensibly "victorious," faces another roll of the dice immediately after Penacony, when his future as a Stoneheart is called into question. Yet "fate" comes through for him again--his bet, as always, comes true. His future isn't in question--it is the question itself. What's next? He finally wants to live to find out.

Sunday, meanwhile, ends Penacony's arc in a truly difficult place. He's virtually exiled from the only home he's ever known, a flightless bird tossed out of his cage into cold hard reality. He has to find an entirely new way forward and may even be forced to reckon with an entirely new definition of "Order" itself.

The parallels between these two characters are entirely intentional and very, very blatant, and I am exceedingly interested in seeing whether their paths diverge or continue to reflect similar fates moving forward.

So uhhh... that's what I think of Sunday? 😂

[wondergotham]

Blades of Destiny

Request: "Hello, if its okay with you, I was wondering if I could request a James!Hook x reader where the reader is new to the school and they meet hook in class and the lesson that day is about sword fighting, and he underestimates the reader but when it comes to them both having to fight each other the reader beats him. He is immediately smitten with the reader and wants to know more about them. Sorry if this sounds silly, please feel free to ignore"

Pairing: James Hook x Reader

Descendants Masterlist

Gif Credits: @ menheim

You were very nervous for your first day at Merlin Academy. Even though you had met some friends already during orientation it still didn't shake off the nerves rushing through your body.

After being dropped off you waited outside Principal Merlin's office as he had instructed. You were sitting there for a few minutes until the door opened.

"Good morning Y/n how are you feeling?" He asked.

"Good morning Principal Merlin. I'm a bit nervous but it shall pass." You could only hope.

"Don't worry child it happens to the best of us. But! To ease the tension I have assigned a few students to help you get situated. I'm sure you're familiar with them." He gestured to the door.

Before you could ask what he meant Bridget and Ella walked out of his office.

They both waved and had prominent smiles on their faces. You were relieved he had chosen them. The two friends you made at orientation.

▪──── ⚔ ────▪

"I shall leave you ladies now. Bridget and Ella will be helping you get to your classes and obtain any other school supplies you might require. If you need anything else feel free to let me know." He said warmly.

"Thank you, Principal Merlin." You smiled as he walked away.

"Surprise! It's so great to see you again!" Bridget exclaimed as she pulled you into a tight hug which you welcomed immediately.

"I'm so glad you both are helping me out it's already so much to take in." You admitted.

"Bridget and I were new once too. We know exactly how it feels. Just take it easy don't let it overwhelm you." Ella also pulled you into a hug.

The bell suddenly rang causing you to look at each other.

"That means we have 2 minutes to get to class," Ella informed while Bridget pulled out a piece of paper.

Your class schedule.

"Luckily you have Potions with me and Ella. Let's go, it's gonna be sooo much fun!" She exclaimed while pulling your wrist softly to the direction of the class.

Ella chuckled as she followed.

▪──── ⚔ ────▪

To your surprise, the day had gone by quickly. Bridget and Ella were truly the best friends you could ask for. You knew that your friendship would grow even stronger as the time passed.

You also met Charming, he was cool but Ella still hadn't warmed up to him. Which was amusing to you because you thought they would look cute together.

You smiled at the thought before glancing at your schedule. Your last class was Swordsmanship.

"Ooh James Hook is the best student in that class! Every new student has to duel with him on the first day." Bridget informed. A bright smile on her face. "If you choose that class as an elective, of course."

"It's the one class he's good at and that's only because he's a pirate," Ella huffed not sounding as impressed as Bridget.

"What's he like?" You asked. "I know you pointed him and his friends out at lunch but is he really that bad?"

"Well...." Bridget trailed off.

"He loves being mean to other students. He's arrogant, vain, and thinks everyone wants to date him. He struts around the hallways like he owns the place, always cracking sarcastic jokes at the expense of others. His smirk is infuriating as if he believes his looks alone are enough to command attention and admiration." Ella rolled her eyes.

Charming spoke up, "Whenever someone challenges him, he dismisses them with a wave of his hand, convinced that any criticism is just jealousy. He surrounds himself with the other VKs to feed into his ego, laughing at his jabs and affirming his self-centered view of the world. It’s as if he thrives on making others feel small, using his "charisma" to mask his insecurities."

"Yet beneath that polished exterior, there’s a vulnerability he’s too proud to show. Deep down, I wonder if he knows how empty his bravado is—or if he’s just too afraid to find out." Bridget concluded.

All of this information was overwhelming. I guess he really is as bad as his friends.

The realization settled in your gut like a lead weight, mixing disappointment with a sense of betrayal. You had hoped for something different, a glimpse of the person he could be beneath the bravado.

But now, faced with the harsh truth, it was clear: he thrived in their toxic environment, feeding off the same negativity.

"I guess I'll have to watch my back and see how I'm going to beat him." You realized nervously.

"Hey, you told us you've been sword fighting since you were 10. Don't sell yourself short you'll be okay." Charming said confidently.

"Yeah don't let what we told you get to your head. Figure out his weakness and that's how you'll win." Ella winked. "Plus Charming is in your class too so you won't be alone, he'll give you pointers."

Bridget placed her hand on your shoulder, "We believe in you. But please be careful because sword fighting is very dangerous."

A small laugh escaped your lips. "Thank you guys seriously. I'll see you after class?"

They nodded as you and Charming walked into the classroom. At least one of your friends was in Swordsmanship with you.

"You can sit next to me." Charming pointed to the empty desk next to his. "And don't let James Hook intimidate you. Like Ella said, everyone has a weakness."

You nodded before sitting down. But from the corner of your eye, you detect a certain individual staring at you.

James Hook.

Did you already make an enemy without even interacting?

You would soon find out.

▪──── ⚔ ────▪

After introducing yourself to your newest classmates the only thing that kept replaying through your mind was the young pirate that couldn't take his eyes off of you.

He stared at you like you were the only person in the room, his gaze intense and unyielding. It was as if your classmates and professor around you faded away, and all that mattered was that moment. His eyes held a mixture of curiosity and challenge, making your heart race.

There was a flicker of something deeper—an unspoken connection that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, as if he was trying to decipher your thoughts, to peel back the layers of your defenses. It was both thrilling and unnerving, leaving you torn between wanting to confront him and wanting to retreat.

In that instant, you realized he was not just the arrogant figure everyone else saw; there was a complexity beneath that facade that intrigued you. It made you wonder what lay behind that piercing gaze, what stories he carried, and what truths he might reveal if you dared to look closer.

But at the same time if he was anything like Charming and Ella had described you couldn't get close to him. He was bad news.

"The best way to practice is by dueling. We'll start with James and Y/n." You were shaken from your contemplation.

You turned to Charming with slight fear in your eyes. The time had come to face the infamous Captain Hook.

"Students please move to the side of the classroom. James and Y/n come to the front and take your marks." Professor Hecat instructed.

"It's okay you got this," Charming said, a reassuring smile spreading across his face. "Show him what you're made of."

As he walked towards the other side of the classroom you made your way to the front and grabbed a sword.

You stood on one side of the mat as James Hook walked up.

"Time for a proper Merlin Academy welcome." James chuckled as he made his way to the other side of the mat. He held his sword in his right hand.

You stood poised, your blade glinting under the silver light. The air was thick with tension as James Hook circled you, a smirk playing on his lips.

You knew this young pirate wouldn't be going down without a long and tough fight.

“Think you can best me, new girl?” He taunted, twirling his sword with practiced ease.

“Confidence won’t save you, Captain,” You replied, eyes narrowed. “You of all people should know, never underestimate the opponent.”

James was taken aback he did not expect such confidence from you. Yes, you were beautiful and intelligent but he was certain he would be able to intimidate you at least a bit.

It didn't seem like it though. This only caused him to become more intrigued.

"I want a fair duel. No cheating. You may begin." Professor Hecat announced.

Focus. Don't let the new girl distract you.

With a swift movement, James lunged forward, his sword aimed at your midsection. You sidestepped, the tip of your blade grazing past him.

He retaliated instantly, slashing diagonally, but you parried, the clash of metal ringing out through the classroom.

Occasionally a few students let out gasps and whispered amongst each other.

You and James danced around each other, swords clashing in a flurry of strikes and blocks. Your footwork was precise, and each step was calculated.

You feigned left, drawing James into a trap, then spun right, aiming a quick thrust that he barely dodged.

“You aren't so inexperienced darling,” he admitted, breathing heavily now. “But beginner's luck won’t win you this fight.”

“Perhaps not,” You said, determination igniting your spirit. “But I won’t yield.”

With that, you unleashed a series of rapid strikes, each one more aggressive than the last. James struggled to keep up, parrying desperately.

"Go L/N!" Charming clapped his hands.

The rest of the class seemed to hold their breaths, the only sounds were the clash of steel and labored breaths.

Finally, in a moment of distraction, James overextended, leaving himself vulnerable.

You seized the opportunity, disarming him with a swift twist of your wrist.

His sword clattered to the ground, and you held your blade close to his throat, “Yield,” You commanded, your voice steady.

James’ smirk faded, replaced by a grudging respect. “Alright, lass. You’ve won this round.”

The air was still, filled with the echoes of their fierce encounter.

"What an astonishing sight. Very well done Miss L/N." Professor Hecat applauded.

The rest of the class started clapping. It was rare for someone to beat James Hook. The only one who had ever done it was Charming. After that no one.

Until now.

"Class is dismissed, everyone. I will see you all again tomorrow." Professor Hecat stated before retreating to her office that was behind another door in the classroom.

"I'll meet you outside. You did amazing by the way." Charming said before walking out.

You lowered your sword, your breath still coming in sharp bursts. James stepped back, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender, a flicker of admiration in his eyes.

“Impressive darling,” he said, a hint of a smile returning. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

You sheathed your sword, the tension easing as you caught your breath. “You underestimated me, pirate. Maybe that’s your greatest weakness.”

Beautiful girls like you are my weakness.

He chuckled softly, the sound echoing through his chest. “Perhaps. But I’ve learned a valuable lesson tonight. Luck seems to be on your side.”

“It's not luck,” You replied, a spark of pride in your voice. “I’ve trained hard for this moment.”

He nodded, his expression turning serious. “We both have our paths to walk. But maybe we can learn from each other instead of fighting.”

You studied him, weighing his words. “Are you suggesting an alliance? After all this?”

“Think about it. We both aim for the same goal, albeit from different angles. Together, we might stand a better chance against the greater threats looming over us.”

You hesitated, the weight of his history with your new friends pressing down on you. “Trust isn’t easily given, James. I've heard things about you already and it's only my first day here.”

“I know,” He admitted, his tone earnest. “But give me a chance to show you who I actually am. If you don't like it then I will leave you alone."

You contemplated his words, the tension in the air thickening as you weighed your options.

The flicker of sincerity in his eyes was hard to ignore, but the memories of what you’d heard about him—stories of arrogance and bullying—loomed large in your mind.

“It's not just about me,” you finally said, your voice steady but laced with uncertainty. “It’s about my friends. They’ve warned me about you, and I can’t just brush that aside.”

James nodded, his expression shifting to one of understanding. “I get it. My reputation precedes me, and I can’t blame you for being cautious. But I promise you, I can change.”

His words hung in the air, a fragile promise that both intrigued and unsettled you.

Could someone truly change, or was it all just a facade?

You thought of the potential alliance—how it could strengthen your position against the real threats you sensed on the horizon.

“Just give me a chance,” he urged, his voice softening. “Let’s work together. If I prove you wrong, maybe you’ll see that there’s more to me than what everyone else thinks.”

You took a deep breath, the weight of the decision pressing heavily on your shoulders. “Alright, James. I’ll give you a chance. But know this: if you betray my trust, I won’t hesitate to cut ties.”

A flicker of relief crossed his face, and you couldn’t help but feel a mix of hope and apprehension.

James took your hand, a genuine smile breaking across his face. “I can assure you love I do not plan on doing that.”

You nodded still a bit hesitant.

As you both stood there, the possibility of something new—an alliance, a friendship—began to take root, even as the shadows of doubt lingered.

Now the hard part. You had to figure out how you were going to tell Bridget, Ella, and Charming.

They were not going to believe this.

▪──── ⚔ ────▪

A/N:

Thank you to the anon who requested this! I loved writing it. It was my first time writing a sword-fighting scene so I hope I did it justice lol.

[ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog]

i’ll always love you-j. guilbert

warnings:angst, fighting, fluff

like if you enjoy pls🙏

you sit on the bed of you and your boyfriend johnnie’s spared room, you’re bored out of your mind.

it’s 1:07 am, and johnnie is still at a party he went to, so you couldn’t get a hold of him for the life of you.

you tried to sleep, but you couldn’t without johnnie.

you continue to scroll tiktok out of boredom, when you get a call from jake, you and johnnie’s other roommate and johnnie’s best friend.

“hey, we’re leaving the party and we’ll be home at about 1:30.”

“okay. why didn’t johnnie call me?”

“ah, him and carrington are doing some shit so he told me to let you know. bye y/n!”

“bye jake!”

you hang up and wait on the bed for johnnie to get home.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

you hear the door open and you go out of the room to tell everyone hello.

“hey guys!”

“hey y/n!” jake and carrington say, slamming down onto the couch.

“hey.” johnnie says.

“johnnie do you wanna watch a movie?”

“nah i’m good.”

“i mean, you could pick it if you want.”

“no, y/n i’m tired. let’s just sleep.”

“are you sure? i mean that’s fine i don’t really care-“

“y/n, can you just shut the fuck up and stop being clingy for once? i mean damn its like every minute of every day you have to be glued on me.”

“what the fuck johnnie i literally just asked if you wanted to watch a movie, it’s not that fucking deep.”

“but it’s every night y/n!”

“it is not and you know it’s not johnnie! you go out and party every night and leave me here. you leave me here alone. it’s not like i fucking force you to do anything! it’s a simple question.”

“it’s not my fault that you don’t want to come to my parties!”

“i never said it was.”

“whatever, y/n. whenever you stop being such an immature, clingy, self centered bitch maybe we can watch that movie.”

“johnnie, what the fuck?” jake asks.

“yeah johnnie what the fuck.” carrington adds on.

“okay, since i’m such an immature bitch then i’m gonna go back to the guest room.”

“i don’t give a shit where you go.”

“johnnie, stop being an asshole.” jake says.

“shut the fuck up jake. talk when you get a dumb girlfriend like her.” johnnie gestures at you.

fighting back tears, you walk back into the guest room.

you’ve never argued with johnnie this bad. you argued sometimes, but nothing at this level.

you lay on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. you’ve tried to go to sleep many times, but it’s already 5:30 and you can’t sleep.

you hear a knock at your door.

“y/n?” you hear johnnie’s voice say.

it sounds shaky and worn, like he’s been crying for hours.

he walks in, eyes red and puffy and lip quivering.

“what could you possibly have to say now, johnnie.” you say.

“i wanted to say sorry.”

“why the fuck did you do that johnnie?”

“i don’t know! okay?”

“you called me a bitch johnnie. your own girlfriend.”

“ i know. i’m disgusted with myself. i’m sorry.”

“did you drink too much or something? did you find someone who was less of an immature, clingy, self centered bitch than i was?”

“no i didn’t.” johnnie says. he bursts into tears, sobbing into his hands. you just look at him.

on one hand you hate seeing your boyfriend cry, but on the other you think about what he said to you.

“come here.” you hold your arms out, as johnnie goes into them, hiding his face in your chest as he continues to cry.

after a few minutes, he stops crying and he looks up at you.

“i’m sorry, y/n.”

“it’s okay i guess. just don’t do it again.”

“i promise.”

you kiss his forehead as he lays in your arms, playing with the fabric of your shirt.

“i love you y/n.”

“i love you too johnnie.”

[biocrafthero]

Some Queer Games and Devs to check out this Pride Month

Hello! I play a decent amount of video games, and like making posts about them. This year, I've been making a lot more posts analyzing and promoting games I particularly enjoy. I'm making this post as a way to share games that have queer developers and/or topics to celebrate this year's Pride Month.

All games' websites will be linked in their respective sections, and I urge you to check out any of the games that speak to you. There's a decent amount of variety on this list, so please give all of them a look!

Please note that all of these games are ones I have personally played--I am not including games I have not played yet for myself. If you were hoping for your favorite title to be on here, I am very sorry but chances are I just haven't heard of or played it yet.

ANATOMY (2016)

ANATOMY is a horror game released in 2016 by developer Kitty Horrorshow (she/her). While the game does not contain any queer themes, the dev is openly transgender.

The plot of the game coincides with the gameplay, which centers around walking through a nearly pitch-black house collecting tapes and putting them in a tape player. Despite its simplicity, the game has been commended by many for being "the scariest game they have ever played." The story of the house is uncovered as you listen to each of the tapes, and reentering each time the game shuts you out.

This game features themes surrounding body horror and psychological horror, and one moment that can be seen as a mild jumpscare if it is not expected.

A full playthrough takes about an hour, with multiple endings. However, all roads lead to the same destination.

ANATOMY is available for $3 USD on itch.io.

We Know The Devil (2015)

We Know The Devil is a visual novel developed by the team Worst Girls Games, which consists of Aevee Bee (she/her) and Max Schwartz (any). Music for the game is composed by Alec Lambert.

The plot of the game surrounds three teenagers who have been sent to a religious summer camp in the American midwest. With just one week left, they're all hoping for everything to be smooth sailing, but nothing is ever that simple. On this fateful night, they must face the devil; two will make it out, but one will be left behind.

The gameplay focuses on making decisions on who gets paired up together, and consequently who gets left out of the interaction. These choices determine what ending you get and there are never any wrong answers.

Queer rep in this game consists of polyamory, lesbianism, transgenderism, and transhumanism. There is also mentioned homosexuality regarding a male character that is only ever talked about in passing.

This game contains themes surrounding religion, internalized homophobia, along with general homophobia and transphobia. There are scenes that depict underage drinking, vomiting, body horror, and some moments that can be interpreted as self-harm. Some sound effects in the game can be jarring, along with the track "Incense (Smoke & Honey)" from the OST, a song that plays in three of the four endings.

A single playthrough can take about two hours depending on reading speed. There are four endings, meaning a minimum of four playthroughs.

We Know The Devil is available for $6.66 USD on Steam, Nintendo Switch, and itch.io.

There is also the demo for the game, which is free to download off of the game's itch.io page and baked into the Switch port.

Heaven Will Be Mine (2017)

Heaven Will Be Mine is a visual novel also developed by the team Worst Girls Games, with soundtrack once again composed by Alec Lambert.

The game's plot centers around three factions in the solar system. They have all been called back to Earth under threat of death; two factions want to stay in space, while one is choosing to return. At the start of the game, you can choose one out of three characters to follow the POV of, each belonging to one of the three factions.

Gameplay is similar to We Know The Devil, meaning that you make decisions throughout the story that determine what ending you get. There are no wrong choices, only ones that lean in the favor of one of the faction out of your options.

Queer rep in this game consists primarily of polyamory, lesbianism, transgenderism, and transhumanism. There may be more I am forgetting to mention.

This game contains scenes depicting violence, body horror, and discussions about sexuality, abuse, and trauma. This game is meant for a more mature audience than the others on this list. Some sound effects and music in the game can be jarring. There may be content warnings I am forgetting to put here.

The game has three major story routes and three endings, and each playthrough takes around four to five hours depending on reading speed. At minimum, you will need to play this game three times.

Heaven Will Be Mine is available for $15 USD on Steam, iOS, and itch.io. It should be noted that the price on iOS is different than on other platforms, being listed at $5 USD.

In Stars And Time (2023)

In Stars And Time is a turn-based RPG developed by insertdisc5 (she/they) and published by Armor Games Studios. Music for the game is composed by Studio Thumpy Puppy.

The story follows your typical RPG party, starting the day before the final dungeon and final boss. However, when you go in, you get caught in a trap and die. Time suddenly rewinds, and you find yourself at the day before your party entered the dungeon. You are caught in a time loop, and must find a way to stop the final boss and escape the loops.

Gameplay mostly consists of turn-based combat with enemies, and making the right dialogue choices when talking to NPCs and your party members. There are several puzzles throughout the game that encourage you to use the looping mechanic to solve them.

Queer rep in this game consists of transgenderism (transmasc and nonbinary explicitly, but there are some characters that can be interpreted as transfem, agender, and/or genderfluid), aromanticism, asexuality, lesbianism and homosexuality, and a plot thread that involves t4t romance. All six major characters have canonical pronoun sets. There may be more rep I am forgetting to include here in this list.

This game contains scenes of mild violence, self-hatred and other heavy mental heath topics, one scene of child endangerment, unreality, and optional scenes involving self-harm and suicide.

The average playtime for this game is 26 hours, which increases to 36 depending on how much optional content you engage with. There is technically one ending, but an optional plot thread can get you an alternate version of the ending screen. This plot thread is highly encouraged to be followed.

In Stars And Time is available for $20 USD on Steam, itch.io, Nintendo Switch, and PS4 and PS5.

There is also a previous title titled START AGAIN: a prologue, which is available on Steam and itch.io. This game does not need to be played to understand In Stars And Time, but is highly recommended nonetheless.

Some personal anecdotes regarding each of these games:

In Stars And Time is one of the few games where I saw a character (Siffrin in this case), pointed at them, and said "They're just like me!"

We Know The Devil and Heaven Will Be Mine both have themes of queer solidarity in the face of oppression and it fills me with rebellious rage (positive).

ANATOMY is one of my favorite games ever made, and is objectively the scariest game I have ever played.

Almost all of these games have made me almost cry, which is a very high bar for a game to reach. The only one that didn't is ANATOMY, mostly because it evokes more fear than it does tears for me.

We Know The Devil in particular evokes a very specific nostalgia for me, so the setting and characters hit differently for me than they may for others.

I played In Stars And Time shortly after a breakup and consequently developed the most horrific crush on the character Isabeau. It is frankly quite embarrassing.

[jmdbjk]

Privates First Class Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook: Our first real look.

Jimin and Jungkook. I know, I'm being insufferable but I can't NOT dwell on them a little more. Festa activities will make us move past this so fast as things always do in BTS Army life.

But you don't realize how much is bottled up or how starving you've been until you finally get to feast on that one thing you've been missing. That didn't sound very appealing and I'm not really that pathetic (its mostly the busy-ness inside my head) but you know what I mean, right? I've missed them soooo much!

Military life seems to have been going well for them. Since January we've had very little news about them. Just military blips here and there... training with U.S. Marines... kitchen police... cooking rice... cleaning from top to bottom... learning to aim big-ass missiles and hitting targets and living on rations for a week. Even receiving recognition for outstanding service.

Almost every day I imagine them doing their daily duties and all... but there was little to go by. And that's fine. Some of those things I don't want to think about. But that's what they are doing every day.

Seeing them in real time in the flesh is very reassuring.

One thing that was noticeable to me is that Jimin and Jungkook did not look like their usual sleepy-head selves they are at that time of the morning. But they both looked strong and composed. Going to bed every night like a normal person and getting a good night's sleep is a healthy habit they will probably break the moment they are discharged.

Jimin... just wow. His hair grew out. No more buzz cut. But also, the duality continues:

Someone posted a comparison pic of Jimin's painted nails and a close up of his hands which now have what look like healed spots on his hands and knuckles and scuffed nails... I don't have the pic but it shows how he's fully immersed in his military duties. Hands do get beat up somewhat when you work with them a lot.

Jungkook looked amazing.

Jungkook's little burn scars... that damn edge of the oven or hot pan will get you when you least expect it! Got him twice too! Ouchie! I hope it didn't bother him for too long. To the infirmary!

He'll get Polyc to cover that up with a new tattoo. Or maybe design one around it to highlight Jungkook's battle scars he received while an enlisted man.

One thing they are most likely gaining now is self-confidence in the ability to do something NOT in their wheelhouse. Leading people or working with people who are not the ones they used to see day in and day out for ten years. Learning new skills, being part of a different team, doing different things can be enriching and will enhance other parts of their lives.

Not being with the people who are paid to be there to make sure they look good and every whim is taken care of....the isolation had to be culture shock for them. Knowing they are together, that center of familiarity when they are faced with something new, is a great source of comfort.

Jimin and Jungkook showed up to Jin's discharge in full uniform. I will assume they arrived together straight from their base, where they must remain in their uniforms at all times.

Hugs all around. Jimin's are the best, most heartfelt hugs.

Jimin and Tae's hug... I felt that shit. The squeeze, the "no, don't let go yet," the fullness of it. They mean a lot to each other. I know they've always been close, they've told us so, they've reminded us they speak to each other often even when they weren't working as a group.

And I'm sorry but the awkward side hug between Tae and JK was not "tHeY jUsT sPeNt TiMe ToGeThEr." Be for real. Are you fucking blind? That was Tae saying "bro, didn't realize you walked up behind me, are you not gonna hug me too?" And JK going "oh, well, ok if you insist, bro (since you won't let go of my wrist)."

No, Jimin and Jungkook did not hug each other... they just got out of the car that they rode in from their base where they live together. Where they showered and got dressed and ate breakfast together before getting in the car. It is perplexing how that is even a question I see people put out there.

There was curiosity as to whether Jimin and Jungkook were on day leave or what and initially seeing them in uniform the first assumption is that they might be only on temporary day leave and would have to return to base that evening. But then we got the group pic at the Hybe building and Jimin and Jungkook had changed clothes. From what I understand, when a soldier is on day leave, they must remain in uniform AT ALL TIMES during that day. No quick change into some other clothes for a while. REMAIN IN UNIFORM AT ALL TIMES NO MATTER WHAT. So them being in civvies tells us they are on vacation/days off. We don't know how much time they took off but perhaps they won't go back to the base until Monday.

During their days off they will probably separate and go do their own thing. Maybe they will take time to go to Busan and visit fam. Most likely, Jungkook will go check on the progress of the Itaewon house construction (the exterior of JK's new house is black and it will have a tiny balcony that faces the street and appears to have some livable rooftop space). Jungkook may visit Bam. They may visit their other friends. Since the entire group was there, they most likely shared how they were doing and most likely talked about next year.

The delulu mode has activated...

[mrcaptainrex]

You Had One Job.

Crosshair x F!Wife!Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Established Relationship, Dry/Rude Humor, Mentions of Blood

Summary: When Crosshair risked his life to send his brothers and wife a message, he expected them to heed his warnings. He should have known that his family never does things the way they're supposed to.

A/N: You know when you can never find a fanfic with your specific idea in mind so you write it yourself? That's what this is. This is purely self indulgent, and I'm not apologizing. Happy reading!

"Keep moving, traitor!" The trooper shouted from behind her, and pushed his blaster to her back for good measure.

"Wasn't planning on stopping, asshole." She mumbled to herself. The corridor was dark. The only real source of illumination was the blood-red ray shields containing what must have been hundreds of clone troopers. How could they do this to the men that fought for them so valiantly, not even a year prior? It disgusted her that the Empire was willing to treat its own soldiers this way.

"Stop here." One of the troopers finally barked. She stopped and turned towards the ray shield, but the cell was different than the others. It looked almost like an office. In the center of the room, a man leaned on the desk with a pleased smirk on his face. As the ray shield lifted and she was shoved in the room, she analyzed his face. He had a chiseled jawline, cold blue eyes, and slicked back hair as dark as his aura.

"Ah, the legendary Mrs. (Y/N) (L/N). How wonderful to finally meet you." He smiled. His voice was just as eerily calm as the look in his eyes. She couldn't quite place his intentions.

"Dr. Hemlock, I presume?" She asked.

He let out a slight chuckle. "I am surprised you know that. Very few do."

"Wasn't easy to find out. I actually came here to kill you, but your troopers here took my weapons." The doctor circled her menacingly, as if he was analyzing her.

Hemlock released the handcuffs strangling her wrists and motioned for her to sit. "I'm sorry they ruined your plans. But you and I both know you don't need a weapon to kill me. You could do it right now if you wanted to." As she sat tentatively, he sat on the chair opposite her side of the desk. "And it's getting ever more tempting by the moment, I bet." He teased. She forced herself to appear relaxed, but something about this man felt off.

"I have more self-restraint than that, Doctor."

"Clearly you don't have as much as you think."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Gladly." Hemlock placed a recorder before her and pressed the button.

Plan 88. They're after Om-

Plan 88. They're after Om-

Plan 88. They're after Om-

Hemlock let the transmission play a few times, allowing her husbands plea to mock her. He took pleasure in the way she became visibly uncomfortable at the sound of her husbands voice.

"I understand. It must have been hard when he abandoned you." If looks could kill, Hemlock would have been slowly crushed under the weight of a tank.

"You don't know him." She hissed. He nodded his head regretfully.

"Correct. Which is what I'm hoping you can help me with." Hemlock stood behind her and bent down so he spoke directly into her ear. "How do I get him to talk?"

"Did you try saying 'please'?" She said sarcastically.

The doctor released a heavy sigh and stood tall again. "I like you, Mrs. (L/N). You're quite funny. But humor and a pretty face will not help you here."

Despite the threat behind his words, she couldn't help but snort. "You really think I'm pretty?" This time, the Doctor did not laugh. He turned to face her again and grabbed her chin, harshly forcing her to look at him.

"Not for long." He said calmly. As he drew his hand away, the woman saw an opportunity. As hard as she could, she bit the Doctor's finger and refused to let go. His yelp of pain alerted the troopers standing guard outside the room. It took both of them to pull her teeth from his finger.

As Hemlock cradled his bleeding hand, she spat his blood and skin from her mouth with a red-stained grin. "Go fuck yourself, Doctor." The last thing she remembered was a harsh force to the back of her head, and falling to the ground.

-

Growing up, Crosshair believed there were two kinds of soldiers: brave, or stupid. Then he met his wife and learned there was a third option: ballsy. He never considered himself one to shy away from a fight, but he'd never met a woman as daring as her. That was once a trait he admired. Hell, it may even be the one that made him fall in love with her. But now, as he watched his wife's unconscious body be thrown into his prison cell, covered in the blood of a fight she undoubtedly started, he wished dearly that she was a coward.

He forced himself to stay seated on the ground until the troopers left. The moment the ray-shield reactivated, he crawled to her awakening body and held her close.

"(Y/N)? Can you hear me?" He cradled her head in his lap like she was made of glass and delicately brushed her tangled hair from her face. "Wake up, you di'kuit!" He inspected the blood seeping from her mouth, and couldn't help the proud feeling was over him as he realized it wasn't hers.

"Crosshair?" She croaked weakly. She felt like she was dreaming. After a year of being away from him, she finally lay cradled in his arms.

Upon hearing her voice, He helped her sit up and began inspecting her body for injuries. "Are you hurt?" He asked. She had never heard him speak with such concern. Sure, he'd been worried for her before. That was only natural in their line of work. But this wasn't worry. This was genuine fear.

"I'm okay," she assured him. "I'm okay." Her words calmed him. However, as his adrenaline wore off, the realization set in

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" He whispered loudly.

Well at least now she could be sure it wasn't a dream. That was definitely her Cross.

Like a child, she swatted his hands away from her face and pouted. “I was trying to save you!”

He looked around the cell, and back at her. “Well, you've done a great job, mesh’la.” He leaned back from his squatting position and sat against the wall opposite her. They stared at each other in tense silence for a moment. "You turned yourself in?"

"Please, you think these new 'stormtroopers' could bring me in by themselves?" His face expressed that he was clearly not pleased with his lovers actions.

"Could you explain to me how 'plan 88' translates to 'turn yourself in to the empire'?" He deadpanned.

She snorts. "Oh please, a warning is just a dangerous challenge."

Her carelessness did little to relieve his frustration. "Dammit, (Y/N) you had one job!" He snapped. Feeling his anger begin to take over, he took a deep breath and pinched the top of his nose. "I told you to run."

"And I told you to stay, so I guess know we're even." She rebutted bitterly. She didn't mean to say it, but the way that he reprimanded her like a child enraged her.

Her spiteful response surprised him. He went silent in shame. He never meant for any of this to happen. He wanted so desperately to go back in time. To stand in front of her on that Kaminoan platform one more time and hold her close. To tell her that he would never leave her side again. But unlike his lover, time was not so forgiving. "I'm sorry." He whispered so quietly she barely heard him.

She regretted her words as soon as she saw him shrink like a wounded dog. With a sigh, she scooted across the room until she was sitting next to him. "I really missed you." She said quietly. He looked up at her beautiful warm eyes with his own and practically melted. She cautiously rested her head on his shoulders and relished in the familiar feeling. For the first time a very long time, he allowed a tear to fall from his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to look down at her. Instead he opted to stare at the ceiling in hopes that gravity would keep his tears at bay. He didn't deserve this. Her forgiveness. He hurt her badly, and somehow she was able to act like nothing had happened. Why was she so good to him? Hesitantly, he leaned into her warmth and placed his hand over hers. When she didn't recoil, he felt a wave of emotions overcome him.

"I'm so sorry." He said quietly. "You deserve better."

She lifted her head from his shoulder and smiled up at him. "You are better." She responded.

He was sure he had never been more in love with her.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked.

Instead of responding, she gently held his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his. It wasn't like their kisses used to be - passionate and hungry. This time, his lips slowly and tenderly molded into hers with nothing but pure love. With every second that went on, his body and mind relaxed more and more. He could taste the dried blood from her mouth, but even that didn't bother him.

Suddenly, a familiar imperial alarm began sounding off, followed by emergency lights flashing. The desire in his eyes faded, and confusion took it's place. His wife, however, looked completely unfazed.

"What did you do?" He asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Remember that digestible tracker Tech was always working on?"

"Please tell me you didn't swallow a tracker."

"He made it meiloorun flavored!" She smiled.

As if on cue, the ray shield to their cell disappeared. "They boys are right on schedule." She stood and offered him a hand to do the same. While he struggled to regain his balance, her grip on his hand remained. "Welcome back to Clone Force 99, my love."

He gawked in amazement at his wife. This woman had been tortured, abandoned, betrayed and humiliated by him. And yet here she stood, after breaking into a top secret imperial base, with her hand extended and a still-bloody smile on her face. (Where that blood came from, he still wasn't sure.) If he could marry her twice he would. "Fuck, I love you so much." He exhaled as he wrapped himself in her embrace and felt relief for the first time in a long time.

[queenshelby]

The Law Student (Rewritten)

Part Two: Tutoring

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (20) & Reader (30)

Note: This plays in 1996, just before Cillian drops out of law school.

Three days after you had agreed to tutor Cillian, you also began to tutor a young woman by the name of Siobhan. Siobhan was in her second year of the Law program; hence, you didn't have her for any of your lectures.

Siobhan was twenty-one and straight-forward, independent, and easy-going. In addition to her obvious academic prowess, she possessed a strong and assertive personality, something that could only be described as an asset in such a demanding field while, at other times, it would be rather frustrating.

Confidence was Siobhan’s middle name; you respected her for it, although you could tell that she struggled with her own insecurities and self-doubt at times, something that she masked through her feisty behavior and sharp wit.

"Are you okay Siobhan?" you asked half way through the session when you noticed the frown on her forehead and her restlessness while you were trying to explain the intricacies of a particularly challenging legal precedent.

Siobhan sighed deeply, almost defeatedly. "Sorry Miss Y/LN, I am just distracted," she admitted. "I have a lot going on at the moment. There is this guy who's really messing with my head. He is such an eejit," she confessed, raking her slender fingers through her mane of chestnut hair, evident as she glanced downwards, avoiding your gaze.

"Well, I am afraid I can't help you with that, but I can give you a little break if you like. Maybe getting some air will make you feel better?" you suggested, offering a gentle smile in her direction.

Siobhan looked up, meeting your gaze gratefully. "Thank you, Miss Y/LN. A little break sounds good," she confirmed and you both stood up, setting your books aside and allowing the fresh air to fill the room. You could see the relief in Siobhan's features as they relaxed into a more natural state of being while you started talking about less academic-related topics silently acknowledging the need for a distraction.

Siobhan was from a wealthy family with high expectations and you learned later in the day, after your tutoring session had already come to an end, that the young man who was causing her grief was no other Cillian, the student who had captured your undivided attention ever since the first day of classes.

You did not know what happened between them and you knew that, under no circumstances, could you get involved. Not only were you his professor, but you were also her tutor and as such you had to keep your distance both physically and emotionally.

As such, you made a mental note to keep a comfortable distance between Cillian and yourself, hoping that this would solve your ever growing attraction towards this much younger man.

**********

Thursday arrived faster than you expected. You had spent the last two days preparing your lesson plan for Cillian's tutoring session.

You wanted to make sure that the material you covered was relevant to his struggles in Contracts and Torts and, as you reviewed his previous exams and assignments, you noticed a pattern in his mistakes. He often misapplied legal principles to specific cases, highlighting his lack of confidence in his understanding of the subject matter.

Just as you had planned, you arrived at the small lecture room early as your heart was beating a little faster than usual. You had prepared extensively for this session, and you were eager to help Cillian work through his challenges.

The room felt strangely intimate with its small round table and four chairs placed in the center of it. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You were a seasoned lawyer who had tutored many law students before either at work or through a university project you were part of, but there was something about Cillian that made you feel a little more off balance than usual. 

You heard a knock on the door, and Cillian walked in, a sheepish look on his face.

"Sorry, I'm a bit early," he said nervously, biting his lower lip as he walked in and you smiled at him, trying to hide your nerves.

"No problem at all, Cillian. Come on in, take a seat," you told him with a smile, and he sat down across from you, and you could feel your heart racing. 

"So, we're going to focus on Contracts and Torts today. I see that you've been making some good progress, but there are a few areas where you could use some improvement," you observed and Cillian nodded, looking serious.

"I appreciate the help, Miss Y/LN," he told you before admitting that, perhaps, he had not spent enough time studying for these subjects in recent weeks.

"It's just so boring ," he said quietly, and you could not help but laugh at his honesty.

"Yes, it can be, especially when you don't fully understand the material," you agreed, recalling your own experiences as a student when you found certain legal concepts dry and tedious. But, you continued, "it's important to push through that and find ways to make the material interesting and applicable to real life situations. That way, you're less likely to forget it and more likely to excel in both the classroom and as a lawyer."

Cillian nodded, appearing to take in every word. "Yeah, I don't even know if I want to be a lawyer which might be part of my problem," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted to study theatre, but my father didn't think it was a practical option. He wanted me to have a stable career, and I kinda just went along with it because I didn't want to disappoint him."

You paused, taken aback by the vulnerability in his voice. "Well, Cillian, it's important to do what you love," you said gently. "And it's never too late to change paths.

If you are passionate about theater, then you should pursue it. Life is too short to spend it doing something you don't enjoy," you said, empathizing with the young man who sat across from you.

You has been in his shoes before, feeling the pressure to conform to others' expectations rather than following your true passions. You knew firsthand how it felt to sacrifice one's own happiness for the sake of others.

Cillian looked up at you, his deep blue eyes searching yours. "Yeah, I know. But, it's not that easy," he  responded with a hint of frustration. "I need to figure things out. I need to know what I want to do with my life. But, that's really not your problem,"  Cillian said, attempting to diffuse the sudden heaviness in the room with a weak smile as you sat there, watching his actions intently.

You returned the smile, albeit a little more sympathetically. "I understand, Cillian. Trust me, I do. Just know that I'm here to help you figure things out, whether it's with contracts, torts, or just finding your path," you offered, hoping to reassure him while, almost inadvertently, placing your hand on top of his in a comforting manner.

Cillian's eyes widened at the contact, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he looked at you with a mixture of confusion and gratitude. The tension between you was palpable, and you both knew that something had shifted in the room, which is when you quickly removed your hand , returning it to your lap.

"Uhm, so how about we start with Torts ?" you suggested, hoping that diving into the lesson would help to dispel the tension.

Cillian nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, sure. That sounds good," he replied, fidgeting slightly in his chair.

Over the next hour, you worked through a series of Torts in painstaking detail, hoping to help Cillian understand the subject matter more fully. He took notes diligently and asked insightful questions that revealed a deeper level of understanding than you had initially anticipated.

Cillian's curiosity about the subject matter was infectious and you leaned in to look over his shoulder as he wrote down some notes .

Your proximity to him sent a flutter of butterflies through his stomach and he seemed to tense up slightly under your gaze. 

Inhaling your scent , a blend of vanilla and jasmine, did not help his composure in the slightest, and for a moment, a faint blush surfaced on his cheeks which was a blush that grew even heavier when you leaned in and pointed to two of the sentences he had written down. 

"These two points are crucial. Without proving both of these doctrines you cannot possibly establish a case of negligence," you stated as you traced the lines with your finger while accidentally brushing against his hand, sending sparks flying between you. 

Cillian swallowed hard, nodding his understanding. "That makes sense," he said, his voice barely above a whisper and, by this point, the intensity in his gaze was enough to make your heart race.

"Your hair smells really nice by the way," Cillian then added suddenly as your curls had been so close to his face and you blinked in surprise, your face heating up at the unexpected compliment.

You didn't know how to respond , that simple gesture had caught you off guard, and you took a moment to recover before replying with a soft, "thanks" before stepping back to create some distance between the two of you.

You wondered if Cillian could sense the tension in the room, tension that went beyond mere physical attraction and veered into uncharted territory.

Taking a deep breath, you decided that the most professional thing to do would be to focus on his education, putting your own feelings to the side.

"So, shall we continue?" you asked, although your voice trembled slightly and Cillian nodded, his own breathing uneven.

"Yes, sure," he replied, his eyes never leaving yours  and, for a moment, the world outside that little lecture room seemed to fade away.

You cleared your throat, trying to refocus your attention on the task at hand. "Okay, so let's go over this next case together," you said, picking up a folder and handing it to him.

Cillian took the folder and opened it, his eyes scanning the pages as you began to explain the details of the case.

You noticed, however, that his gaze constantly drifted towards you, and a flush of warmth crept up your neck as the weight of his stare settled on you and it was almost like he did not even bother to hide his attraction.  Every now and then, you would catch him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, the smallest of smiles playing at the corners of his lips. You cleared your throat and shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying to focus on your lesson instead of the young man sitting across from you.

Eventually, time passed and you managed to finish the session without any more awkward moments, though not without a bit of difficulty. You couldn't help but feel a constant tension between the two of you, as if you were both dancing on a knife's edge.

Cillian packed up his things, managing a smile as he did so. "Well, uhm, thank you, Miss Y/LN," he said. "This was really helpful,"  he admitted before pausing for a moment, his eyes searching yours.

You smiled at him, trying to make light of the situation. "You did all the work, Cillian. I'm just here to guide you," you told him truthfully, proud of the progress that he had made.

Cillian grinned, a hint of playfulness in his eyes as he stood up, ready to leave.

"Well, you did a fantastic job of guiding me then," he replied as he slung his backpack over his shoulder but, just as Cillian walked towards the door, he hesitated, turning back to face you. "And I was wondering whether, maybe, you would like to grab a drink with me?"  Cillian asked, his eyes sparkling with an unexpected boldness that was both endearing and intriguing.

Your breath caught in your throat as the request took you by surprise. "What? Now?" you stammered, your mind racing as you tried to think of a polite way to decline.

Cillian shook his head, his cheeks coloring underneath your surprise. "No, not now, of course. I just thought maybe, on the weekend or whenever you are free?" he said, his voice softer than before, as if he were afraid of scaring you off.  His proposal caught you off guard, sending a surge of conflicting emotions through you. You hesitated, unsure of what to say and how to say it.

" I uh, I appreciate the offer, Cillian," you stammered, trying to regain your composure. "But, I think that this would be highly unprofessional of me." You knew that giving into your temptations would only lead to trouble. Not only was there a significant age gap between the two of you, but you were also his professor. Such a relationship could only result in disaster.

Cillian looked disappointed, but he nodded, understanding. "I understand, Miss Y/LN. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he said, and you could hear the hurt in his voice but, before you could respond, he quickly turned and left the room, and you were left alone, feeling even more conflicted than before. 

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[izanamichanasalways]

☆sol et luna☆

dr. Ratio × gender neutral Reader

CW: suggestive. very. implied intercourse. VERY short, im so sorry😭

this isnt smut, but my blog is 18+..so please, mdni! You will be blocked.

suggestive content under cut.

Veritas is a kind lover. his self centered nature does sometimes shine, but its clear he loves you. (And if you dont think so, he'll show you with... unconventional ways.)

He is guilty because he just treasures you so much. You are like priceless knowledge, so he learns every part of you like he should. Worshipping your body in his mind, because he would never admit how much he adores it.. oh yes, your undressed body leaves an imprint on his mind, more than anything he learned as a scholar.

But, he has a very.. interesting side that comes out when you outsmart him in any way. He will shut you up with a makeout session and the only sounds he wants to hear from your filthy mouth the whole evening are moans. And you better satisfy him.

But he does it out of love, of course! Why else would he make you a dumb toy? Its for your best, afterall. You know you enjoy it anyways. He knows too. And if you ever annoy him at the Space Station, everyone else will know just as well. So be good, will you? Unless you want the punishment.

authors note: i love this man so much someone drag me out of this obsession.

Do not repost, edit, or claim as your own!

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

[moonstruckme]

Burnt Out

summary: when you're overworking yourself trying to please everyone, Remus wants you to take some time for yourself

cw: mention of not eating, exhaustion 

Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus is reading in your bedroom when he hears the door open, screaming on its hinges, and slam shut. Just that noise lets him know what kind of day you’re having, but he gets up and moves towards the sound anyway, eager to see you.

“Dove?” he calls as he enters the kitchen, where he finds you already surrounded by sandwich supplies, slathering jelly onto a piece of bread you’ve placed directly onto the counter in your rush.

You turn around at his voice. “Remus, hi!” You beam, surging toward him. 

He catches you as you stumble, clipping your hip on the corner of the counter, and a soft, sympathetic hiss escapes him. “Careful,” he murmurs, covering the spot with his hand protectively as you press yourself to his chest, your arms winding around his neck. Remus brings his other hand to the center of your back, squeezing gently, and he wishes he could pour his affection into you this way, through the palm of his hand. 

“Sorry,” you say into his neck, though he’s unsure why you’re apologizing to him. It’s your poor hip that’s been slighted. “I didn’t know you were home.” 

“I haven’t been here long,” he assures you. 

You pull back, brushing your lips against his in a kiss that feels like it’s over before it’s begun, and he tries in vain to hold onto you as you move away. You resume rushing around the kitchen, letting cabinets and drawers bang shut behind you. Ordinarily you move almost silently, always easing the front door shut behind you and moving around the apartment on socked feet, much to Remus’ amusement when he comes into the living room to find you curled up on the couch with a cup of tea and dinner already in the oven, and he wasn’t even aware you were home. But on your busiest days, you turn into this—what he’s affectionately dubbed your Tornado of Productivity—and the time it takes to be your usual quiet, careful self simply doesn’t serve your goal of functioning at maximum efficiency. You’d been in this state for the last few days, never seeming to have more than a few minutes’ break between work and school and the myriad of social obligations Remus suspects you only agree to because of the guilt you’ve associated with the word “no.”

“How was your day?” Remus asks probingly. 

You blow out a breath that answers his question before you do. “Crazy,” you admit, washing a tomato in the sink. “I had a test at noon, and I didn’t study yesterday because I thought I’d have time this morning, but then I had to go in to work.” 

He feels his brow furrow. “Didn’t you work last night?”

“Yeah, but—” you absentmindedly grab a knife from the drawer, then another, until finally you find the one you need “—Mia didn’t sleep well last night, so I told her I could take her shift.” 

“Dove.” Remus tries to keep his reprimanding tone gentle. “You barely slept last night either.”

“I know,” you sigh again, and you sound so exhausted Remus wants to seize you and swaddle you in blankets so you have no choice but to rest. Get you in bed and kiss the crease between your eyebrows until it fades away. Give you the cosseting you deserve. “But she asked for my help, and—anyway, I don’t feel great about the test since I only had a few minutes to study right before.”

“I’m sorry,” he says earnestly. “I’m sure it went better than you think.”

You flash him a kind, if somewhat forced, smile. “Thanks.” You’ve just finished the sandwiches, of which Remus now notices there are three. Three completely different sandwiches: peanut butter and jelly, ham and cheese, and something involving lettuce and tomato. He can’t imagine what you need that variety for, but he rarely understands what you’re up to when you’re this scatterbrained. Your mission nearly complete, you seem to be short-circuiting in the middle of the kitchen, standing with your hands raised as if prepared for your next task and your features scrunched up bemusedly. 

“Plates?” Remus suggests gently. 

“No, sorry—I need, um—” You shake your head as if chastising yourself. “Tupperware. I need tupperware.” You roll your eyes, seemingly at your own forgetfulness. It makes Remus feel defensive, though to defend you against yourself seems like a conflict of interests. You open the cabinet above your microwave, reaching for the containers. “Marlene and Mary want to meet, but I haven’t had time to eat since breakfast…” You appear sheepish at Remus’ exasperated look, but he doesn’t interrupt. “...so I said I’d make us all sandwiches.” 

You’re struggling to reach the tupperware, and Remus nudges you out of the way, passing them to you. “Dove,” he says, using his new proximity to set his hands on your shoulders, preventing you from dashing off again, “don’t you think you need some time to rest? You’ve had a long day, I’m sure the girls will understand you wanting to meet another time.” You bite your lip, anxious at the idea of canceling on your friends. “And,” he adds lightly, “I wouldn’t mind getting to spend some time with you too. I feel like I’ve hardly seen you the last few days.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widen, so instantaneously guilty he wishes he could take it back. “I’m so sorry, Remus, you’re right. I, um.” Your brow furrows, gaze moving over his shoulder to some faraway place, and Remus can see your overworked gears turning again, your fatigued brain struggling to solve this new dilemma. “I have class in the morning, but I shouldn’t be home too late tonight if—or, I actually have about fifteen minutes before I’m meeting Mary and Marl, do you want to hang for a bit now and then maybe walk with me?”

“I want you to take time for yourself,” Remus says firmly, though not unkindly. “I’m not trying to give you another task, love, I promise.” He lets his hands drop from your shoulders to where your fingers are fidgeting anxiously, easing his own between them. “But you’re spreading yourself too thin. Marlene and Mary love you, and that’s not gonna change if you don’t always have time to meet when they do.” You slouch slightly against the counter, beginning to resign yourself unhappily to the idea of staying in, and Remus kisses the top of your head sympathetically. “You can put your sandwiches in the fridge so they stay ready for you, and I’ll make us whatever you want for dinner. Pasta?” he asks, to sweeten the deal. 

Your gaze meets his again, your interest piqued. “That sounds amazing.”

“Alright, pasta,” he says decisively, smiling at you solely so you’ll smile back. It works, and he’s pleased to note that it looks a bit less strained than before. He begins herding you towards the living room, and maybe it’s wishful thinking, but he imagines he can see the guilt in your eyes slowly fading away as you let them droop slightly, giving into the relaxation Remus is peddling so persuasively. “And we can watch a movie, and cuddle, yeah?”

You hum assent, releasing a little sigh of contentment as you sink into the couch cushions and giving Remus your sweetest, most adoring look as he settles in beside you, covering you with a blanket. “Thank you,” you say, packing the words with enough sincerity to make Remus’ heart ache. “I’ll try to…cut back, a bit.” 

“No one will hold it against you,” he promises, knowing you need to hear it, “and if they do, send them to me for a scolding.”

You grin. “That would be a cruel punishment, I’m not sure I could do that to some poor soul.” You tilt your chin upwards, and he meets you halfway, the kiss lingering and sweet. You brush your thumb tenderly along Remus’ jaw as you pull away, and he knows what you’re feeling before you open your mouth. The same sentiment echoes through his chest. “I love you,” you whisper, like it’s a sacrament. “Promise you’ll still love me back if I meet up with the girls tomorrow and pencil you in for after?”

Remus huffs a laugh, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Alright, love, I promise.” 

[titanic-angel]

мιgυel o'нara х ғ!reader

⁎︎✴︎ adronιтιѕ 2 ✴︎⁎︎

ѕynopѕιѕ ➪︎ yoυ warм υp тo мιgυel

warnιngѕ ➪︎ ѕwearιng

noтeѕ ➪︎ so next chapter is gonna be real fun but rn you have to have a lil crisis abt your trust in Miguel

↽︎ part 1

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He flexed his hand after he shook yours.

Barely noticeable, if you hadn’t been observing the grooves of his knuckles, or the vein that crawled from his wrist. The hands that enveloped yours in a shake should’ve been cold- calculated. A deal brought to fruition by its apathy.

But it was warm.

When he let go, a beat. Static on your fingers, an itch on your prints. Long enough to breathe but too fleeting to think. If you hadn’t been focused on his hands and their features, you would’ve caught the way he stared at yours.

Almost preserving, you would’ve thought.

“Miguel?”

His name apparently snapped both of you from the recesses of you minds, from the brink of thought and the absence of it.

“Sorry, yes?”

Lyla’s eyes passed over the two of you. You were unsure if it was because of her size, her cloudy stance and voided build. But you were positive the look in her eyes knew more about what just happened than you ever would.

“The tour? Remember? Of the lab,” She giggled, although the word is too flimsy to describe such a dry sound, “she was right, you really don’t know host etiquette.”

He grumbled, before his eyes came to meet yours.

If you had to pin-point the feature that prompted the foul taste in your mouth (a reasonable person would call it envy, but you were childish enough to cease the thought), it would be his condescending stare.

“The lab you’ll be working in is on the 3rd floor. It’s my personal lab,”

Your nose wrinkled. Tacky (lucky).

“Lyla will be showing you around.”

Lyla tutted from his shoulder, waggling her finger. “Nuh-uh, I did all the business-woman stuffs I can for the day. You get to show her around.”

You were being treated like a chore.

Charming.

“Plus, I’m feeling awfully tiered,” she winked at you. Unsettling, but it queued curiosity.

“Have fun kiddos!” With a flash of yellow and tints of blue, she was gone.

Leaving you to breathe the stiff air that separated you and the goliath in a dead quiet.

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You would’ve slaughtered for Elevator music.

If it meant that the deafening silence, driven by a mutual desire not to be trapped in an isolating metal box, would end.

You felt stupid, and maybe a little self-centered, for only knowing your floor. There wasn’t a better alternative, as your job forced you to either move laterally across your own or, occasionally, up to the tenth floor to retrieve extra scraps or parts that no one else wanted to grab.

Ever since your royal fuck-up with that human robot, you had essentially become the errand-girl of your engineering pod. No one took you seriously anyhow, so you might as well be useful.

You liked the tenth floor. It was dark, the scattered metal parts and canopy of wires above you created a comfortable jungle. Filled with things you were familiar with, inventory that when you touched, it created rather that crumbled.

You weren’t Midas there.

Consequently you’ve forgotten that it’s called the tenth floor for a reason.

And you were going to the 3rd.

Underground.

There was a difference, aside from the number. The attic, even with its close quarters, was a sanctuary of sorts, one with a view that made you forget your reputation.

But below, burrowed under sediment and gravel, you sat a breath away from your grave. You wouldn’t be surprised, if you were buried here.

You would even call it fitting.

The elevator lurched to a halt, the sight of your reflection meeting yours through the stainless steel. It look distorted, not quite like a cracked mirror but it wasn’t clean. It was foggy, and as it disappeared, you wondered if that’s what you looked like to your colleagues.

Foggy.

It certainly felt the case, on the 3rd floor.

Miguel casted a shadow, literally and figuratively, when he walked. His shoulders were built to carry expectation, body molded to turn heads, attention. Admiration kissed his heals, it’s maw biting at his fingers, his lips, his throat.

He made you foggy, because for as long as he existed, there was nothing else to look at.

You perished by his side. Your aggrieved appearance, the droop of your mouth and cave of your back existed as a warning. You ate praise like a woman starved, a thank you so infrequent it sounded like a myth when whispered.

You noticed it’s phenomenon when you passed people down the hall, eyes gravitating towards Miguel.

(Attention is a picky child, and it never liked you.)

When he opened the door, a crevice in the darkest corner of the floor, the stench of cleaning supplies and plastic gloves wedged into your sinuses. It was a similar smell to his office, but the weight of humidity made it sour to swallow.

Once your nose adjusted, you finally consumed your surroundings.

An organized table, a glass cabinet containing every scrap and screw in a designated box. A plethora of tools, varying in size, clean and gleaming.

Paradise.

“You’ll be working here for most of the engineering process.”

His voice was the closest it had ever been to you. It never lost the roughness around its edges, but It’s placid cadence was gentler than it had been before.

You nodded slowly, still drinking in the freshness of your workspace.

“If you have any materials you need that aren’t here, we can retrieve them from the storage on floor one.”

You took a step towards the table, running your hand over the cool, solid metal. Your reflection wasn’t foggy, it was clear, precise, detailed.

You weren’t a silhouette down here.

You turned around to face Miguel.

A hunter, tensed, and dangerous. Wary of you, observing the way your chest rose with breath and hollowed without it. His face a novel of age told in creases and folds, hostile and glacial.

So different from his hands, you thought (one that you buried).

“Do you even use this?” Your question had more bite to it than you intended.

He nodded slowly. “Sometimes, if I need to.”

You rose your brow. “How often is ‘need to’?”

“Maybe once a month.”

You nearly choked. “Once a month? You use this room once a month? God, you are clinically insane.”

It baffled you that a room like this sat unused and empty for weeks at a time. It was no mystery why the room looked so untouched.

So perfect.

Your hand found the bridge of your nose. “Jesus. So they just, gave this to you? And you don’t use it?”

His brows crossed. “Of course I use it. It just doesn’t have a lot of purpose in my line of work,” he sighed, muffling his frustration, “and it’s essentially… yours now. So it doesn’t really matter.”

Yours.

The hot oil and dry metal of your old lab became a memory, a hiccup in your lungs. The years of anonymity and shadow felt irrelevant now, the possession of something greater kissing your filthy hands.

Yours.

“Thank you.”

An accident. A crack in the seamless anger you had molded around your shoulders- armor. He saw it, and you felt the way it vibrated, cotton-mouthed and speechless.

You weren’t supposed to thank the hand that fed you poison, not if you were already rotten. You were supposed to bite, rip it’s tendons and foam at the thought of its empty palm, bare and boneless.

But you let your awe, a spark of tender in a fire of brutal, speak for you. Moved your teeth and numbed your tongue, so the words felt effortless, light.

Maybe, even, forgiving.

Miguel nodded, his silence a salvation. He knew what you felt, and how it wrecked you. But he didn’t acknowledge it, and for the second time you felt like expressing gratitude.

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A drowse. An ease. A lull.

You tried to describe overwhelming air that surrounded you when you stepped back out into the hallway with any word that wasn’t comfortable.

It couldn’t be, for the sake of your enmity, your acid. You had to make him drunk on it, the burn of astringency rotting his throat, signing his respite.

It would make your victory, the loosening of your leash at the sight of the other side of the fence, all the more delicious.

(But taste wasn’t your strongest sense, was it?)

Could you live on the sight of polished metal? The feeling of the lab under your fingers, it’s gleam on the life-lines of your palm? Do you take the peace offering (domestication of a cornered dog), or do you fight it, wrestling the cage you put yourself in?

Do you drink it’s draft, eat it’s still, the heart of it all stuck in your canines?

(Monster, they’d call you. But you’d be fed.)

Perhaps, his shadow wouldn’t starve you. You were no flower. You didn’t belong with daffodils and lavender; you grew with the moss and fungus and the dirt they sat between. You could be a creature of midnight, if you chose.

But you didn’t like the dark. Firmly rooted in childish imagination, chills never ceased when the lights went out. You hated sleeping with a lamp, or the screen of a computer (a grown substitute for your childhood night-light), but you hated the depths more. Dissimilar to those your age, you never grew out of that fear.

(But could you?

It all made you reconsider your wariness in Miguel. Would you be the same, without your spite? Does it kill your fire, or ignite it? You don’t trust these questions, but you don’t trust much of anything, do you?)

The corridor was absent of buzz, and for a moment you forgot the evening had crawled down Alchemax, digging its pitch claws into its gaps and dragging the employees home.

You were alone with the company saint.

One glance at him, at his broad shoulders and strong nose, the way his mouth curves down, silenced all considerations of trust.

There was too much of him to try. Too much you were unfamiliar with, even if he gave you a sanctuary. So instead, you caged your thoughts, following him blindly even as they festered.

His stride was difficult to match, long and purposeful, but not empty of uncertainty. He stuttered around corners, paused at cross roads.

His limited visits of the floor spoke loud as he tried to navigate it.

“Do you even know where you going?” You asked, leaning forward to meet his pace.

He looked at you, offended. “Of course I do.”

He paused, looking at the left and right halls, before going left. You laughed.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

He walked faster now, avoiding you.

You caught his expression, lucent under yellow bulbs. The guise looked weathered, old, as if it had been used a thousand times before, pulled from his pocket, worn from its coarse fabric.

It would be wrong to call it annoyance, anger or exhaustion. In fact, it would be wrong to call it anything at all. It was the vacancy of emotion, of a ‘look’. Miguel was hard to read, but now it felt impossible. It made you shiver, how something so absent could mean so much.

(But why did it?

You hadn’t ever been bent on knowing someone more than their hands- what their fingers can weave and mold. How malleable metal and something more could be under their nails. Their face, their features their looks never mattered then, so why now- why him?

Did his words really have this much weight? Could a gesture that told you ‘it’s for you, it’s yours’ so powerful and foreign that it broke the walls you has so patiently built from scratch, from pique and contempt?

Surely, your will was stronger. You couldn’t be persuaded, tamed by a shiny new toy.

But maybe you had been. A glimpse of generosity, humanity in him was all you needed to let your repulsion simmer and still.

Give a dog a bone. It fetches.

At least, until you stopped throwing.)

You felt guilty.

Maybe he never meant to give you the room on purpose, and you were just desperate for something (someone) to show you appreciation.

But a part of you, the one that was good at reading underlying messages, told you he wasn’t as heinous as you thought he was.

“Here, follow me.”

You weren’t sure if he had actually come with you. You just had to trust that he would trust you.

(Trust falls underground. There wasn’t any risk. Slow steps, small, cautious. But it was something.)

When you pointed to the elevator on the map and looked over your shoulder, his veil had vanished. It was replaced by a tranquility, one that lifted the corners of his mouth. Not quite a smile, but close.

Closer.

When you finally made it to the steel doors, the reflection that looked back at you was still foggy. But maybe that was okay.

You didn’t look the same to everything.

This time though, it didn’t disappear.

Instead, the box reeled, and suddenly the bottoms of your feet felt the expanse of gravity below and how still you were above it.

The short alarm felt secondary after you were plundged into darkness. Fragile, hysteric beats in your chest, followed by a string of curses.

“We’re stuck.”

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special thanks to (aka taglist) ➪︎ @cherryrevenger @toaffes @vomit4brains @vxxxb @minimari415 @buko-pandan @viriexo @asimplesimpleton @marcswife21 @the-silvercow @mochi46106 @ch6ntt @epihowl @hexmaniacjade @jinsomniacs

[puddle-nerd]

You’ll Do

Summary: You’re lucky you survived the crash but after you crawled to safety, well, the phrase was out of the pot and into the fire, right?

(Recombinant Jake Sully/Human Reader)

Story Tags: No Use of Y/N, Pre Way of Water, Slight Mention of Gore, Restraints, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Neytiri Died, I’m Sorry, Manhandling, Verbal Degradation, Knife Kink, Mention of Non-Lethal Self-Harm, Mention of Blood, Panties Uses as a Gag, Extremely Dubious Consent, R4p3/Non-Consensual, Interspecies Sex, Na’vi Biology (Avatar – Cameron), Na’vi Language (Avatar – Cameron), Vaginal Sex, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Belly Bulge, Jake Sully Definitely Babbles During Sex, Creampie

So, this story was requested by @jakesullywhore, happy early birthday, baby girl 😘😘😘, on Tumblr back during Luna’s Kinktober Challenge (and she’s been wonderfully patient with me, I’m so, so, so sorry it took so long) and then it turned out… uh… quite a bit longer than I was originally expecting (insert sheepish shuffling here) in amongst several things happening all at once IRL so if you want to skip to the smut, and you’re over the age of eighteen, scroll down to the

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* Beginning of 18+ / NSFW Scene *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Na’vi Translation: Hì’i — small, little (size) Mawey – calm Olo’eyktan — clan leader (generally gender-neutral) Sevin — pretty (mainly for female(s)) Tawtute — human | Sky Person Toruk Makto — rider of last shadow | currently, Jake Sully

AO3 Link

You looked up as your supervisor groaned in protest as the supply train rumbled down the freshly built tracks, rocking with its momentum slowly but surely back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Your gaze didn’t falter from him as he closed his eyes, trying to center himself so he didn’t vomit while his motion sickness made itself known. “Ya good, sir?” you asked over the hum of the engine and the sound of the wheels turning, your words making your mask fog up briefly. The compartment was atmospherically converted to oxygen but with the increase of raids by the one known as Toruk Makto and his Na’vi followers, it was better to be safe and have your mask on, just in case. “You’re really pale,” you added.

Actually, he looked kinda green and you were beginning to think he was going to puke any second now.

Your supervisor looked up at you from where he sat across the way and gave a weak smile from behind the plexiglass of his mask, sweat beading up visibly upon his forehead. You’d think he’d have been used to the way a train rocked, having claimed to be from New York back on Earth, but who were you to judge? You all had come out here for a chance at a better life and there really wasn’t anything back on your home planet for you, personally, so when they opened up opportunities for grunt work (i.e. luckily you were a high value information system tech), they let you grab a space on the next flight out to Pandora. Only to find yourself in a middle of a war zone and having to take care of people who hadn’t been informed of what they were getting into. You hadn’t really known either, but that was beside the point. You reached beneath your seat and leaned forward to hand him a vomit sack. Suddenly, the illumination turned a reddish hue from a warm white, a skreiching alarm blaring over the speakers, a voice shouting, “Missiles inbound! Port side! Brace for impact! Brace f–”

Then the world went topsy turvy as the train de-railed.

What happened next came to you in spurts. The screech of metal on metal. The blur of the red warning lights amongst the darkness of the cabin with the world turning itself upon its head mimicking a high-speed roller-coaster back on Earth. The pain of smacking your masked face into the cushion of your full-body harness. The reek of liquid iron and the stench of something burning, stinging your nose. The sound of high-pitched screams ripped from several throats. The taste of copper upon your tongue. Pain radiating throughout your body from the top of your head to the tips of your booted toes.

Then nothing.

No sight, no sound, no smell, no touch, no taste…

Was it seconds later when you slowly regained consciousness?

Minutes?

Hours?

Your skull felt heavy and full of cotton as you very slowly lifted your chin, your eyelids blinking slowly as you took in the scene now, acutely aware of the ringing in your ears muffling everything else out. Shock rippled through you, icy and paralyzing, as you stared uncomprehendingly at the wreckage that had once been the train car you had been sitting in. Were still sitting in. Were you sitting? Your head ached.

Fear gripped you, your stomach turning as you surveyed the shattered glass, the debris of metal, splashes of dark liquid that smelled like the sharp tang of fuel and blood, and chunks of unidentifiable meat. You blinked slowly but the throbbing in your head refused to comprehend what you were gazing at – or maybe it was the shock of it all – and so you looked down at your own body. The harness was pulled tight around your chest and hips and your leg looked like it was bent at a funny angle for a moment, until you realized… it wasn’t your leg. Your hands trembled with a surge of adrenaline as you struggled to press the release clasps. Once you managed to liberate yourself from the strangling body-belt, you fell forward and stumbled to your feet, wobbling forward over questionable piles of… things you refused to look too closely at to get towards where you could see the light of day peeking out from where the door had crumpled in like tin, your limbs feeling like they were weighed down with lead blocks but you managed to slide yourself out, your gaze hazy and your mind slow as a turtle.

Pieces of shattered glass twinkled menacingly from the smoldering dirt in the sunlight amongst pieces of metal that should have been on the train.

Something huge suddenly swooped over your head and you lurched to the side as you saw a couple of colorful Mountain Banshees for the first time ever. You stared at them as they landed further down the wreckage and then noticed several very large bodies crawling over the train and the upturned earth.

You blinked and struggled to focus as you saw one of them, huge and blue, turn towards you, painted with black and green paint stripes all over his face and body beneath his battle band and very human-style tactical vest. You watched him incline his head before his lips drew back and he hissed in your direction and a new wave of adrenaline flooded your body.

You were going to die.

You didn’t think.

You just turned and ran.

You weren’t fast enough, though, and a sharp pain to the back of your head had you blacking out.

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

You could hear them moving around you as you took stock of your situation, your eyes currently shut as you regained your other senses. There were at least two beings hissing at each other in a foreign language you recognized as the Na’vi tongue that you had no hope of understanding. The air smelled stale and recycled while you could taste a touch of iron on the back of your tongue. Your wrists were tied to the unforgiving metal table you were laying on, the cold seeped into your skin.

Your bare skin.

You sucked in a sharp breath at the realization that you were stripped almost fully naked and your eyes shot open. You tried to sit up only to jerk backwards, your wrists pulling tightly from where they were secured above your head. Your ankles were restrained as well.

“Oh, good, the sevin hì’itawtute is awake.”

You twitched, shrinking in on yourself as far as you could when you laid your gaze on two big blue striped beings watching you with interested golden eyes.

One was more serious, more intense, with his beaded braids hanging about his rounded cheeks and bordering his red ornate necklace. His broad shoulders, built chest, and thick arms looked more human-like except for the generous smattering of bioluminescent freckles adorning his striped sapphire skin. His torso tapered down into a slim waist, a leather band encircling just beneath his pecs. A light purple loincloth hung from a thin band over the front of his pelvis, a dagger longer than your forearm gracing his left hip. The other Na’vi was smirking much more mischievously at you, his heated golden eyes scanning your body with a hunger that made you shiver. His own braids, unadorned except for two hanging in front, were more towards the top of his head, the right side of his skull shaved. The second male was also so much leaner and gangly than the first, all long limbs with an equally lengthy torso and slutty, little waist though he was easily a couple of inches taller with less freckles that you could see. His dagger, hanging from his left lip, was a littler shorter as well above his simple green loincloth. They were both quite handsome in their unique ways.

“Go get Dad,” the broader male hissed in English.

You blinked.

Brothers?

The leaner male rolled his eyes with a sigh and turned on his heel and you felt your eyes widen as a blush stained your cheeks seeing that his loincloth left his firm backside on display. You glanced away only to see the remaining male raise a brow at you with a knowing look in his golden gaze. You flushed further and looked away, turning you eyes up towards the restraints holding your arms and then down to your ankles allowing you to see you still wore your sports bra and your thin, cotton panties.

The whoosh of the door opening again drew your attention and you choked.

While the two males were handsome, this third Na’vi – their father – made them pale in comparison. His long black hair was styled into thick, unadorned dreads and pushed back from his black and green streaked face. A woven band crossed over his forehead with something shimmering over his burning golden eyes was adorned with small, sharp bones that were probably as long as your hand from base to the tip of your middle finger. A wide, flat nose tipped in pink flared as he scented you, his thin lips pressing together. A comm unit acted as a choker as it settled at the base of his throat, just above a second necklace with five small stones. His shoulders were wide beneath his tactical vest, his chest was… beefy to say the least, and his biceps were near double the size of your head. His built torso tapered down into a trim waist cushioned lightly with an ever so slight, soft and inviting plushness, his brown loincloth embroidered with specialty woven knots around the hem and over the belt clinging to his hips. From mid-thigh to just above his ankles, dark brown leggings clung to his strong legs in a most sinful way that had you swallowing around a growing lump in your throat.

“Out,” the adult male hissed, his gaze not leaving you. He added something in the Na’vi language you had no hope of understanding.

The serious teen male nodded quietly and grabbed his brother by the back of the neck, pulling the mischievous-looking one roughly out of the… you supposed it was originally a shack laboratory that had been retrofitted to become your jailcell, hence why you could breathe without your mask.

You swallowed, watching the adult Na’vi male look over your nearly naked form once more.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked, reaching down and unbuckling his tactical vest slowly, revealing a battle band in red and brown nestled just under his thick pectoral muscles, tossing the vest over to the side once he was freed. You shook your head because you weren’t sure. “You probably have heard of me. I’m known as Toruk Makto, more commonly called Jake Sully.”

You felt the blood drain from your face.

This was THE Jake Sully?

Oh, fuck… No wonder General Ardmore was determined to have LOTS of man and firepower because every inch of this Na’vi gave of vibes that screamed ‘lethal’.

You swallowed again and nodded, letting him know you now knew who he was. Your eyes flicked over every single inch of him once more and you shivered again at seeing that his whole body was defined muscle that human men wished they could have. And you weren’t entirely sure if it was because of the cold of the table, the chill of the air, or the fact that he was seriously fucking hot but your whole body trembled. Not, that that meant anything. God, you hoped his ability to smell things was seriously overstated. “I’m telling you this so that you understand what’s about to happen to you.”

You wetted your lips with your tongue and whispered hoarsely, “You’re going to torture me for information?”

Golden eyes – darkened with rage – flicked your way and a slow smirk that promised things pulled at his thin lips, revealing sharp fangs that had your heart doubling in speed. He replied, “Something like that.” He removed the leather strap from around his middle and tossed it over to where the vest was now. “I know it’s not entirely your fault, you’re just a drop in the bucket of problems known as the human race trying to destroy Pandora,” he removed his headpiece and added it to the growing pile, “but I need to know who’s in charge and what your superiors are planning.” His tomahawk from the small of his back was the fourth thing he removed from his body, though this he placed on the table by your hip, chuckling meanly when you attempted to shift away from the sharp edges of the weapon.

“I’m just a lowly IT,” you admitted, fear making you jittery upon the table. “General Ardmore doesn’t even know my name.”

Jake leered at you nastily, unsheathing his front dagger and slamming it down by your head with a startling SLAM. You recoiled sharply, twisting your head away from him and squeezing your eyes shut as your heart beat vibrated within your chest. “That’s alright,” Jake hissed, bending down and breathing hotly into your ear. “I’m sure I can make use of you… somehow.” You trembled as he pulled back and circled your body on the table. “You know, up until about a year ago, I was happy,” he told you conversationally, trailing his callus roughened fingers over the softness of your body, causing you to flinch again and tremble. “Y’know, I was the Olo’eyktan, wha’chu call the clan leader.” He pinched at your fleshy hip, the one on the other side from where he had left his weapon, chuckling as you baulked away from his touch. “I was respected by The People,” he continued, moving towards your feet and you hoped to god he wouldn’t tickle your soles, “all throughout the vast jungles of Pandora. I had a wife and four beautiful children. Had.”

Oh… shit…

You met his gaze and now understood the fury in his golden depths.

Jake told you, voice flat and ice cold, “My wife, my mate, my better half, my Neytiri te Tskaha Mo’at’ite died today because all of you stupid humans had to come the fuck back here where you weren’t wanted.”

You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t your fault. You hadn’t killed her. You hadn’t killed anyone. But you could see the absolute wrath and the soul-shattering hatered burning deeply from within the golden depths of his eyes. You understood from just looking at him that he wouldn’t really listen to any of your words or, even if he did hear what you said to him, he wouldn’t actually care about them. Either way, he was about to take it out on you in one way or another.

“So… what do you have to say about that?” Jake demanded.

You gulped and murmured, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Jake’s ears flicked back and he bared his teeth, shaking his head as his tail – he had a fucking tail! – lashed back and forth in agitation. “Y-you’re sorry? You’re sorry?! How’s that – how is that going to bring back my wife!?”

“It’s not! It’s – it’s not,” you yelped, flinching away from the fists he pounded down onto the metal table between your secured ankles as best you could, though it wasn’t much. You stuttered, tripping over your words, “But I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Sully! I – I swear, I swear, I swear I had n-nothing to do with it! I – I’ve never killed any – anyone, I swear. I’m just a, uh, just a computer jockey!”

His nose flared as he scented you again and a wide, dark smirk adorned his features as a switch seemed to flip and an idea came to him.

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·. Beginning of 18+ / NSFW Scene .·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.

“Well, if you’re not high enough up the chain and have no useful information to give me, guess I’m gonna have to find a different use for ya,” Jake announced and reached down. The Na’vi male pressed a lever on the table and the table flipped nearly vertical to about a 75-degree angle, causing you to yelp in surprise as you were suddenly jerked upright, the tomahawk and the dagger sliding – luckily – harmlessly down to hit the floor with a loud double ‘CLANG’. He chuckled meanly down at you, pressing something else to lock you into place.

You gulped, begging to know as your heart pounded rapidly in your chest, “What are you going to do to me?”

The painted male just smirked, flashing his fangs.

Kneeling down between your legs, your whole body shivered of the sight of Jake exchanging your ankle restraints for his large hands, his grip strong and unyielding giving you no chance to kick him in his stupidly handsome face. You felt your belly twist itself into knots as a warm bubble of dread – yes, it was definitely dread and nothing else – began to build inside of you as an idea of how he was going to “make use of you” formed in the back of your mind.

Jake manipulated your legs apart and leaned in, pressing his flat, pink nose against the front of your panties, flaring as he sucked in a deep breath with a chuckle. “Well, …look at that. You’re liking this, little girl,” Jake hummed, rubbing his nose over the material separating him from your femininity. “If I strip you, how wet will I find you, you stupid fucking slut?” You could hear the grin in his voice as he added, “Guess I’ll find out in a second. Don’t move.” Letting go of one of your legs after placing it over his shoulder and nipping at it in warning to not kick him or anything, he grabbed his dagger from the floor and brought it up to your crotch. You whimpered, trying not to squirm as the sharp edge of his weapon was drawn carefully up the silken skin of your inner thighs, leaving little red welts but not actually splitting the skin, getting closer and closer to your cunt. You recoiled slightly. “Don’t. Fucking. Move,” Jake reiterated with a rumbling growl, ears and tail both flicking in irritation.

“Please don’t hurt me,” you whimpered, flinching when he tucked the sharp edge under the hem of your panties and tore it beyond repair. “Please…”

Jake smirked as he cut away your panties completely, muttering up towards you, “You’re gonna be saying that for a different reason in a little bit, little girl.” You froze, watching as he tossed the scraps of fabric away and raised his knife one more time, lifting it to the material of your sports bra and hooking it beneath the front hem. The material gave away just as easily as your panties had, ripping like paper up the middle, revealing your tits to his gaze before methodically cutting the shoulder straps of what used to be your chest covering. “Huh, you are actually pretty, aren’cha?” Jake muttered, more to himself than to you as he tossed the now useless fabric away and set his dagger back down onto the ground. His gaze drifted down to your pussy and he smirked. “Oh yeah, you are such a dirty little slut, aren’t ya?” Jake chuckled, finally placing your other leg over his shoulder and inspecting you. “Gonna be a tight fit but now… I can smell you even better, all sweet and musky. Wonder if you taste just as sweet?”

He leaned forward, cupping your upper thighs with his blue hands, and pressed his nose against your center, breathing deep.

“Oh fuck,” you whined, cringing as much as you could away from his touch. “Oh, please don’t do this. I – I don’t want this, Sully. Please.”

You didn’t know who you were trying to convince more.

Jake or yourself.

He ignored your words and opened his mouth, sticking out his tongue and sliding it up the seam of your cunt from the bottom to your clit. You yelped, jerking away from him again at the feel of what you might describe as sandpaper touched your most intimate of parts. It wasn’t… unpleasant… but it was, definitely, strange. He tightened his grip on your legs and did it again, collecting your wetness upon his tongue. And then again. And again. You chewed on your lower lip, trying not to make any further noises or to move, lest he got angry or thinking you were enjoying this.

‘You weren’t enjoying this. You weren’t. You weren’t. You weren’t,’ you chanted to yourself.

“You can try to be quiet all you want, but I’ll get’cha to sing,” the Na’vi male told you confidently, smirk firmly in place on his azure skin. “Singing like an ol’ opera singer.” With that, he leaned in and began his attack on your pussy, dipping his tongue inside your cunt and rubbing his nose against your clit, determination pouring off of him to make you enjoy yourself, whether you liked it or not. The control this man had over his tongue made you bloody your lower lip from biting down so hard on it, just as equally resolute to not give in. No matter how good it felt. But Jake was a man on a mission, practically shoving his face against your pussy and feasting like you were going to be his last meal.

You felt the pleasure undeniably building, a choked whine building in the back of your throat.

Jake lifted his gaze and pulled back, seeing the blood trickling down your chin from where your teeth had dug too deeply. “Ah, fuck, don’t do that,” he grumbled and looked around swiftly. Spotting the remains of your bra and underwear, he grabbed your ex-chest covering and balled it up, wiping away the red liquid from your skin roughly, ignoring your mewl of pain. Now that your underwear was even more ruined, he tossed the sports bra back down and grabbed your panties, balling them up and shoving them into your mouth. “There now, no biting yourself while I enjoy my snack, you ungrateful brat,” he snarked picking up right where he left off and devouring your cunt like he was starving, humming as he dug his tongue deeper into your passage than you ever got with your own fingers. And his tongue was thick enough to almost resemble the girth of the silicon dildo you’d smuggled in the luggage you’d been allowed to bring with you from Earth.

You could no longer hold back the whimpers, your makeshift gag muffling your noise only somewhat.

“Yeah, that’s it, you needy little whore,” Jake chuckled against your clit before lapping at it greedily. “Let those noises out. Let me know what a filthy little slut you are for the first male Na’vi that gives you attention.” He laughed a little more to himself and then leaned in sucking on your hard nub as he slipped two broad fingers into your wet heat, curling them just so that had your eyes crossing as you jerked against your restraints and dug your heels into his shoulders while also trying to rut your hips up into his mouth and hand. “That’s it, bitch. I can feel you tightening. You’re getting close, aren’cha? Gonna cum with your enemy finger fucking you like a dirty, little slut?” Your inner walls clenched greedily around his digits and then he found a spot deep inside of you.

Your climax took you by surprise, running you over like a bus or a train…

‘Oh, too soon,’ you thought just before the euphoria overtook your senses.

You jerked in your restraints, screaming through the gag as you unraveled, your whole-body trembling with bliss.

“Fuck, yeah, look at you,” Jake sneered as he sat back on his heels, still curling his fingers inside of you as he rubbed circles over your clit to draw out your orgasm. “What a fucking little whore. Look how much you came for me.”

You sagged in your restraints, panting heavily and continuing to tremble, eyes widening when you saw how much his loincloth had tented.

The Na’vi male pushed himself to his feet and began to circle you, casually licking his fingers and palm clean of your slick while his tail flicked behind his toned, bare backside. You looked up at him as he came back around and stood in front of you, gazing at you expectantly but your throat didn’t want to work, didn’t want to form words. Especially with that monster of his pressing against the inside of his loincloth. So, you didn’t bother to try. Instead, Jake spoke up for you. “Got nothing to say?” the Na’vi demanded. You breathed out heavily through your nose and shook your head slowly. He snorted and lowered his gaze to watch the remnants of your orgasm trickling down your leg. He gripped himself, muttering, “You do taste as sweet as you smell, pretty, little slut. Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me.”

In any other situation, you might have been flattered.

Jake moved forward and towered over you, your head barely coming up to his sternum as you hung from the upright table. He smirked and reached down to untie his loincloth. “Think it’s gonna fit in your tight, little pussy, slut? You were squeezing my fingers all nice and snug,” he commented, letting the cloth drop, “I’m wondering if I’m gonna fit inside of you.” You whined, seeing the thick human-like cock spring upwards, firm and full. Jake’s dark blue shaft was decorated with pretty stripes of a lighter shade and bioluminescent white freckles scattered amongst ridges and nubs all over the length of him. What made you clench though, besides the sheer size of him, was that his light blue foreskin was pulling back from the pink tip of his cock to reveal that his slit was beginning to bead with pearlescent precum tinged silvery blue.

“Oh, fuck…” you whimpered, quietly through your makeshift gag, no longer able to deny you were enjoying this.

Whether you liked it or not.

The Na’vi male chuckled and stroked himself a couple of times. “Yeah, thought you’d like this,” he leered down at you with a smirk. Letting himself go, his cock bobbed but continued sticking straight out from his pelvis. Jake stepped closer and grabbed your wet thighs, lifting you up and settling himself between your legs, his shaft hot and hard against the seam of your center so you could feel the texture only a Na’vi penis had; you whimpered, trembling in his grasp, pleasure skittering through your nerve endings. “I can feel how slick you are, you filthy little whore,” Jake commented, grunting as he rutted against you, coating himself in your natural lubricant. “Getting me all nice and wet. Gonna have to go slow, though. Don’t want to tear you.” You whimpered as he continued to lift your hips up and back, dragging your dripping cunt up the length of his cock, teasing you with his firm shaft but not yet putting it in.

You bit down on your gag and jerked in his grip, seeking more stimulation.

“Look at you, you needy little thing,” Jake chuckled, watching you with a derisive jeer. “Yeah, you need it, don’cha? Okay, here we go, then.” Carefully, Jake took his shaft and lined it up with your entrance, slowly easing his thick mushroom head into your channel. You whined as he began to push himself further inside, the stretch burning your inner muscles slightly and forcing all of the air out of your lungs. “Mawey, baby. Mawey. Daddy’s got’chu.” The Na’vi male adjusted your thighs around his lean waist and reached down between you, circling your clit as he continued sinking himself further into you, the inescapable pressure and the incredible feeling of absolute fullness making you let out a whine through the fabric in your mouth. Your inner walls keep tightening and loosening, as if your center didn’t know whether to allow Jake’s girth further inside or to try to push him back out of your body. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” Jake groaned through gritted teeth. “Le’me in, little girl. It’ll feel so good. I promise.”

You whined, his thumb still circling your clit as he finally, finally bottomed out.

Jake couldn’t quite fit his entire cock into your pussy, the tip of him pressed against your cervix in a way you weren’t entirely sure was painful or pleasurable. Either way, you felt so utterly stuffed you could barely breathe, breaths shuddering in and out of your nose in short bursts. The hand gripping your thigh was definitely going to leave bruises later as he reveled in the feel of your center stretched around him to your utter limit, his free hand still rubbing circles over your hard, little bud.

“Fuck, baby,” the Na’vi male groaned, shifting his hips to test how you felt now that you had started to adjust to his intrusion. “Tightest pussy Daddy’s ever had. Fuuuck, yer strangling my cock.” The noise that escaped your throat barely sounded human in pitch, more like it was an unintelligible fusion of a whine and a groan, muffled by the panties still in your mouth. He chuckled and added, “Pretty sure you were made for this. Huh? You were made to be my little cock slut, baby, right? Daddy’s little whore.” You whimpered and nodded slowly, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you again. “Yeah, I thought so.” Then he sucked in a sharp breath and whistled. “Fuck, yeah, I can see myself in your belly.”

You looked down to see your stomach slightly distended to accommodate the total girth of his length and you released a wail.

“Isn’t that a sight,” Jake laughed quietly, hissings as you subsequently clenched internally. “Okay, okay, ya greedy little thing. Daddy’s gonna start moving now, little girl. Tell me if it hurts.” You made a muffled noise of complaint and tried to spit out the panties still forcing your jaw wide. “Ah, forgot about that,” the Na’vi male chuckled to himself and finally pulled the cloth out of your mouth, tossing them off to the side. “That better, little girl?”

“Yes,” you moaned quietly, moving your jaw to relieve the slight ache. “Oh, fuck, Sully. Feel so full.”

The male chuckled, “Yeah. Bet you do.”

Jake pulled out of your center a little before rolling his hips slowly back inside of you, glancing between your face and your belly bulge as you whined, feeling the friction of his textured shaft to cause the most exquisite of pleasure to tease your nerve endings, his heavy testicles bouncing off of your taint with each move of his hips. He slowly began to increase his pace, the sound of his thrusts squelching wetly through the air as he pounded his length deeply within you with the power and the consistency of a machine, causing that coil to tighten once more inside of you.

Without the gag hindering you now, you whined aloud, “Huh, fuck. Oh god.”

“Yeah, my little slut likes this,” Jake snarled, quickening his tempo further and growling low in his throat as your center tightened further around him. “Fuck, little girl, gonna cum for Daddy like a good whore? Gonna gush all over me when you climax? Bet you will, you greedy little cock slut. I want to see how your belly bulges further when I finish deep inside of you.” You whined nonsensically as his thrusts got sloppy as he sped up even further, the head of his cock pressing a spot that made your toes start to curl. “Oh, fuck, baby. I can feel you getting close. You’re even tighter around me. You ready, baby? Daddy’s gonna fill you up.”

You wanted to feel the pleasure but you didn’t want it.

Not like this at least.

The Na’vi male’s breathing increased as his rhythm stuttered further, slamming wetly into your depths even more loudly, his balls now smacking against your taint with each shove of his cock, pushing inside of your pussy even deeper until he shoved himself in firmly one last time, burying himself in to the hilt and –

“Ohhh, fuck, fuck, fuuuck, yeah baby! Cumming. Cumming!”

If your first orgasm had been like getting hit by a bus, your second one was more like getting swept away by a tsunami, the pleasure-pain of Jake’s cock being wedged just beneath your cervix and pressing in from behind your bellybutton caused you to release a nonsensical throat-aching scream as well as you beginning to weep in humiliation from the heat overtaking your senses making you feel like you had peed yourself as the lush flow of your and Jake’s combined finish both bulged your stomach and dribbled steadily down your buttocks while every muscle within you spasmed almost violently and your toes curled painfully.

“Fuck, my little slut is a gusher,” Jake chuckled, groaning as he trembled in pleasure. “Yeah, I think I’m gonna keep you. You’ll do just nicely.”

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 24 November 2023 Word Count: 5,500