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sunofpandora · 9 months

Note

Heyyy so I saw your requests post and I’ve been dying to get this one off my chest, so how about a neteyam x omaticaya! warrior! reader where reader’s a fierce warrior (maybe a protege of one of the higher ups). And we all know Neteyam (the mighty warrior lol) is strong and also one of the best their age, but what if Neteyam had such intense feelings for her that all he wants to do is impress her but whenever she comes around he gets all klutzy and flustered? And of course she finds it funny and cute and all that jazz. Just fluff I NEED FLUFF

P.s. The decision to fulfill this request is yours and I won’t be upset if you decide you don’t want to. As long as you’re comfortable, all’s fine by me.

But yeaaa have a good day/night :)

Authors note:

Hi babes!

So I loved this request so much! So I decided to make my very first actual long series! ‘Virago’ is going to be an original work and one of my first long projects. Unfortunately, I will not have a TON of time to do smaller requests in between chapters but i will def try! I’m very excited for this and i wouldn't have even considered this without the request so thank you so, so much.

V I R A G O

Part 1.

The Day the Sky Turned Red.

8.7k words.

𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼/𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼/𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼/

‘Y/n was made of fire. Oh, a goddess girl with lips of lightning and a caged Phoenx under her skin. Neteyam is just the ashes and remains of the heavens she crushed under her heel.’

When grief plagues the young warrior, Neteyam gives her a gift. But it is enough to console the flames in her heart?

Neteyam and reader having a sun x moon relationship (hello 'diaphanous’ readers <3)

Warnings: Descriptions of death/ parental death/ reader is a war orphan/ as always, spider, the reader, and Lo’ak are a trio/ Lo’ak and Reader being platonic soulmates?/ Spider and Reader being trauma twins/ Neteyam being lovesic/ Neteyam being nervous and shy around reader/ Neytiri being mother/ Jake being the husband i wish i had/ Tuk being a little sister and looking up to y/n/ Mentions of grace’s school.

Mentions of insecurity, blood, war, guns, reader being mommy/

I think that’s it?

Oh right, Reader fell first but neteyam fell WAY harder.

Extra info:

Y/n is one year younger than neteyam, the first part of this chapter is a flashback to when y/n was 15. Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk are the agesthey are in atwow for the first part of the story. They age up in part 2 (in story)

(Ka’lik is the name of Y/ns father, her mother’s name is Zensira. Both were warriors, but Zensira was the best songstress in the clan. (Ninat go cry to the plant in the corner))

Super important note for the request sender:

Hey gorgeous so ik you asked for fluff and don't worry babes. I hear ya loud and clear. Unfortunately the first part of this chapter will be a bit angsty bc the creative juice were flowing and i got carried away but I swear on my grave the rest is nothing but fluff and lovey dovey shenanigans,

Not proofread

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

To some, surrender was a comfort. A sanctuary of softly spoken submission.

To Y/n? It was a ‘bitch move’

3 years ago.

Day the sky people returned.

Y/n is 15-16

The Na’vi say, every person is born twice.

That we can redeem ourselves in the eyes of the great mother.

That being truly evil doesn't mean just craving the pain of others.

That the life of a single diseased root does not kill the whole tree.

That darkness is deadly, because like the brothers and sisters of bountiful green that dwell in the great mother’s garden, we too need sunlight to grow.

Your mother always told you monsters aren't born from a seed.

They grow when they are deprived of light.

But sometimes, we find solace in even the darkest of places.

That sometimes there's comfort in the dense night. Where others see hell, you build a home.

Sometimes we thrive in darkness because we feel we do not deserve the glory of sunlight.

Is it wrong? Is it terrible of you?

To see light where the great mother’s grace and the violence of the sky demons collide?

Things that were not meant to tear the ground of our great mother’s delicate skin.

Their metals and turning wheels, their combat boots and weapons that scream and spit fire.

But did it belong in your hands?

Your father would say,

“Each person is a thread, weaved within a tapestry that tells a story.”

The thing about stories is that sometimes, they may not always end well, or worse, they end too early. Some people stretch the thread as far as they can, too unsettled to be spread too thin, too soon.

Change is fundamental. Mo’at reminded you “there is no death, only change”

A moral structure that refuses to be severed. You believe that's whats what distincts na’vi from the sky people. Humans are quite flawed creatures. Humans love to dream and dance about stars and rain because their planet refuses to cry for them any longer. Humans dwell with memories that are haunted with light that only exists in the past, lingering behind desire to relive. Humans are afraid of grief, or loss. Of the empty void that lingers behind the shadows. Humans love to selfishly cling to the fantasy they don't live in.

You will never understand why they put themselves through such violent tendencies. To torture themselves. To provide reach towards an unseen daydream just to rip it out of their hands.

Humans remain. Na’vi evolve.

Na’vi find solace within the endless sky. Burning with color, blazing infinite. Na’vi dance on the precipice of the clouds.

Grief came over like the waves grazing the tide, promising reassurance and return.

Violence was never a necessity. A lingering intrusion of a spark that refused to become a flame.

But what lies beyond the sky? Was there truly a shadow behind the sun?

When the embers refused to settle.

You found yourself infatuated with open spaces. Abundance found within indecipherable notions.

Cracks in the mountains. Small tears in the tapestry where light leaked through the canopy of the trees.

Nothingness was never a threat.

Not when the promise of warmth remained.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/n met grief when she was only a child.

When she was 15, the RDA returned.

The day the sky turned red was the day the air smelled of sulfur and blood.

Gray and red were never a pretty combination.

The demon ship’s wings stirred the trees and a storm of dust arise,

Screaming, everyone running, the distant screeches of ikran and war cries.

The night your parents went out to gather some herbs, and never returned.

When the pale light of the moon became a blazing, scorching, blanket of blankness that simmered into a forest engulfed in white flames.

You found your mothers songcord on the ground the next morning.

Her body stained with red.

You stood next to Neteyam at your parent’s funeral.

You watched as Mo’ats hands guided the delicate floating Atokirina to rest upon your mothers chest as she murmured a prayer.

People have this inherent conception that the hardest part of grief is change.

The loss of warmth in the safest of places, when the shadows loom rather than live.

In reality, it's this unnamed feeling of a void.

Love is the amplification of a connection. Love distracts. It paralyzes you within its sanctuary of promises.

Grief feels like a shield with a hole blown through the middle. When the connection is shattered, and the sky is no longer protected without the scattered solace of the stars to veil the blank spaces.

Emptiness no longer infatuated you.

The sky without the stars is not a mystery anymore.

Neteyam held your hand. It didn't aid the hollowness within the cup of your palm. Guilt revenues in a realization, that even the great mother’s solace could not soothe this wound. This ache. This pain.

Neytiri’s soft sobs scorch the air with a soreness, the morning mist. Her fingertips, victims of bow strings and arrowhead edges gently brush the flowers placed around your mothers body.

Neytiri was your mother’s sister. Not biologically. Preservations in our blood don’t always remain unsevered when a bond is born.

Your mother sobbed with her when hometree collapsed. Helped unbraid her hair for her night with Jake. Your mother had saved Neytiri’s life.

All those years ago when the RDA invaded Grace's school. When her body trembled at the sight of sylwanins blood that painted the floor and the walls, your mother walling as she desperately tried to drag Neytiri away.

To have such a bond. The heartbeat of one another emplaced in your bones, to sing a goodbye song with cruel unmeasured melodies.

Jake held neytiri, gently rubbing circles onto her back, his own grievances had been paid due to earlier.

Kiri’s tear stained cheeks didnt go unnoticed. She stood close to her father, Tuk’s tiny body squished between them as Kiri sobbed into Jake's shoulder . Kiri had always admired your mother. Chasing her shadow like wisp catching the breeze ever since she was a child. A woman of eywa. A healer. A hunter. Her heartbeat reserved for her home. Her people. Her daughter.

Lo’ak had placed his own tribute to the small spread laid out before the gently laid corpses.

A small carved arrowhead.

Your father took over your mother’s job when she had other jobs to attend to, as being the one who trained a young group of warriors. Lo’ak included. He was patient with Lo’ak. Never discouraged him. A father liek mentorship had bloomed. So when his time came to join the great mother, Lo’ak contributed his own item of remembrance.

Lo’ak gave his arrowhead.

Tuk gave a small flower.

Kiri gave a small bundle of herbs the omaticaya believed was to aid the departing spirit on their journey.

Neytiri added a few carved beads from an anklet she wore. One your mother, Neytiri and Sylwanin had shared over the years, each of the three contributing beads or small trinkets to the piece.

Jake gave some beads as well. From a necklace your mother helped him make Neytiri when he struggled with the stringing of the oddly-shaped beads back when Jake was training for iknimiya, attempting to woo the young blue-skinned warrior he knew as neytiri.

All the omaticaya came to bear their gifts. Neteyam included, who gave you the gift of his warmth.

He cradled your hand in his, he raised it to his chest when the roots covered your parents bodies.

You’ve loved Neteyam for many years now. Watching him grow from a boy to a man.

You grew up next to the sullys. Your heights measured next to theirs as a child. Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri, even little tuk had built a circle around you. You were a part of their lives. They were piece of yours.

You found him in an irregular-shaped void in your heart that only he could fit in. Nights were filled of him. His voice. His eyes. His hands. The curve of his nose and the coves of his lips.

His voice was made of tender summers. His eyes were liquid gold.

You saw him. You truly, truly saw him. Not the evascent shell of the perfect warrior or son made of stone.

You saw him in the bleak day and in the night. When reality rivaled your thoughts of him, when the warmth of his touch seemed ephemeral, the invisible interstellar you swore was not a figment of your fantasies. You settled yourself from afar. Sullied yourself with stains of shame from the secrets you kept from him. The thousands of words you harbored, right next to the stars you swore you would steal for him.

This unrepeatable pattern became tiring, something you yearned to touch but your hands couldnt reach.

To tug on the silver string that dangled from this disguise he wore. This mask. This ruse of your heart.

He was to find the perfect mate. The perfect woman, A women to be the closest to an eywa incarnate. That wasn’t you. That could never be you.

Perfect with no edges. No uncalled for curves and no outward coves.

So you settled once again with the itching of your palms and the aching of your heart.

He was not yours.

Distance became a familiarity because distance was safe.

There was a time where the itching in your palmsd for his. Now, his had felt hollow as it held yours now.

Grief was a funny thing.

You stood here, your skin feels more like a shell. Your mirror feels more like a window.

Staring at yourself with pity.

Such a weak thing she is.

Sobbing.

What once was warmth and abundant is now hollow and overcast by anguish.

You start to resonate with the corpses that once rested in your line of sight before the roots of the tree engulfed them.

Why is it that the sunlight denies you shelter?

Why must your whole become hollow? The ashes of what it once was line a new path.

Is the sun falling? Have the stars collapsed? Will anyone catch them for you?

What is this? This pain? This agony? Why must it overcast your morals? Your rationality of peace? This homage harbors the resdiual of what little warmth is salvaged from this sunset of black.

You feel the merciless fire in your veins. You want revenge. The cage of a Phoenix becomes an eternity of warmth.

Even with neteyam at your side, the stars are falling. And the sunlight feels cold.

⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆

Later that evening, the clan settled after Jake announced that his clan had to relocate to the Hallelujah mountains, where everyone would rebuild a stronghold and dwell with the loyal humans. To avoid any more bloodshed, Where the humans couldn't find you.

You sat in the Sully’s Marui, Neytiri behind you as you sat infront of the fire.

She rebraided your hair. You had mo’at and kiri unbraided for the funeral. Neytiri’s soft humming soothes you a bit, but your hands haven’t ceased their small tremors of shaking.

She gently runs her hands through your locks, placing a few beads on each braid.

Th hut is silent, Neteyam sits in the corner, he hasn’t spoken since after the funeral.

Tuk perches on Jakes lap asleep, Kiri at your side, rubbing your back. Lo’ak sat on the other side of you, resting his head on your shoulder.

“My sweet”

Neytiri’s melodic whisper whisked through the heavy gray.

“We leave in a few days time, at first light for our new home,”

She paused, her thought lingering behind a wall of hesitation, she exchanges a look with Jake, who nods at her, gently taking tuk off his lap for a moment,

“Y/n, hon, with what's occurred..-”

He waved one hand around, flicking his wrist against the air to try and demonstrate some kind of invisible concept.

But you know he was referring to your parents deaths.

“We don’t think you should be alone.” Jake adds. Neteyam nods with his dad’s words, attempting to gain some kind of partaking in this conversation without speaking.

Neytiri rests her hand on your shoulder, making Lo’ak lift his head to peer at you.

“What are you saying?”

It comes out as a breath, the unveiled remnants of the traumatic experience you had endured still fresh on your still-processing mind.

“Ma yawntu…We want you to stay with us when we settle in our new home. To stay in our home. We can take care of you.”

The warmth of the fire feels pale for a moment. I’ts vulnerability. Its shallow. Yet, Its deep, and dark, and you can’t see the bottom. Your’e left unguarded for a moment.

“I’ll be fine on my own-“

You pause when you realize how hoarse your voice sounds. you clear your throat, your gaze meeting Jake’s. His eyes soften a you an you can tell its pity. Something you would have considered affection becomes an insult. A weakness.

“I’ll be okay. I’m not helpless. I can provide for myself.”

Jake sighs and shakes his head, his words calm.

“Y/n. I know you are strong. Hell, you’re one of the strongest i know, kid. But This is not something we’re going to let you carry alone, I made-”

He pauses, taking a breath, his head tilting down a bit and his eyes squeezing shut before he raises his head to continue.

“I made a promise. To the people. To the clan. To keep everyone safe. And to your parents, we would look out for you if anything ever happened.”

The lump in your throat is dry as you swallow.

Neytiri kisses your head gently.

“Ma yawntu, we will look after you..we will guide you on this path.”

She gently guides you to look at her bow in the corner.

“My father. He gave me that bow as he laid dying.”

The air becomes thick, even the moonlight seems to freeze with its slow creeping up the wall.

The only sound is the soft 3-beat melody of Tu’ks soft breathing as she sleeps, but her heavy eyes flutter open now and then as she nuzzles into jakes side.

Neytiri squeezes her hand on your shoulder to keep her voice from breaking, her chest tightening.

“He told me to protect the people.”

The pain in her voice breaks through the cracks in the walls that kept the shadows out, cages that kept the anger in.

“I owed your mother my life. I could not protect Zensira.

I have let the demons take another from me.”

The red in her voice stained the shadows behind ehr words, the sharp syllables in ‘demons’ evident, Kiri closed her eyes and winced at her mothers words, still holding your hand.

She took a breath and gazed at you.

“But yawntu, i will not let them take you. I will protect you. You have always been one of my own at heart. The skyships will not take that from us.

The familiar sting you felt only a few hours ago returned to your eyes along with the ache in your chest.

Jake nodded.

“We can be stronger together, Y/n. Let us look after you.”

The wisp of shallow aches still burn behind your heart but you nod, silently.

Lo’ak smiles in an attempt to lighten the load.

“Just like old times, sis. We used to have sleepovers all the time, now we get to have them every day.”

Neytiri was about to scold Lo’ak for his bluntness until she heard you chuckle,

Tuk’s big eyes blinked open as her tired voice mumbled.

“Now you can play with me more..and braid my hair..”

She mumbes as she smiles to herself. Jake chuckles and ruffles her short braids.

Kiri squeezes your hand and Neteyam’s gaze hasn’t left you since the beginning of the conversation.

You took a walk that night, creeping around the hammocks of the sleeping sully family as you quietly ventured outside the small camp village.

You stand under a tree, the moonlight leaks through the canopy as you start to count the stars. You wondered how the sky and the heavens could still be standing when your whole world had collapsed around you just earlier that day.

When you were small your mother would tell you not to pull on the loose thread of her tapestries she wove. Because the more you pull, the faster it will fall apart.

Thats how you felt. One loose string being mercilessly tugged and then all the colors were fading away, you chased them, you chased them along with the falling stars but no one caught them for you.

Your heart has been thieved. Your light has been stolen.

Sin and soul seem to have a war under your skin, and the soft lllabies of the creatures of your planet seem to have more of a shriek-like quality.

Why did the colors go away?

Did they chase you to the place i cannot follow when you went away?

“Y/n.”

You jump slightly, the chill in the pale air becoming a prick of awarness as you reach for the knife on your hip, turning around quikcly.

Neteyam stands before you, his wooded-honeyed scent fills your nose, you blink as a breath of his name leaves your lips.

“Neteyam-

Oh Neteyam you scared me, you asshole.”

Usually he would have laughed. But not today, not with the shadow that looms.

He gently touches your arm.

“I’m sorry, truly-

What are you doing awake? Are you hurt? Are you in pain? Did something-

Did someone-”

You laugh at him. But its bitter and its thin. Its forced.

“For eywas sake why does everyone think i am the weak link suddenly-

I am fine. Stop looking at me like i am wounded-”

Neteyam cuts you off.

“Y/n, i would never think such a thing about you, ever. You know this. I want you safe, you can’t expect me not to be concerned when you wonder off in the middle of the night, syulang”

The nickname from whe you were children is a warm familiarity at the least.

You huff and lean against the tree bark.

“I just needed air.”

Its small and muttered.

A shaky breath left your lips.

“I’m trying to find ways to endure my own thoughts.”

Neteyams eyes soften as he steps forward, he gently takes a place y beside you, back against the tree as he stands next to you. Your hand brushes his, but your fingers refuse to interlace.

The two of you stared up at the stars for a moment.

“Teyam?

“Yes?”

“Do you think it’s ungrateful to feel as if you have nothing, even when others orrond you with love and promises?”

“I’m not sure I follow…”

“Is it wrong to feel alone when your in the arms of others?”

As it falls into place for neteyam, he gazes at you as if you were a mystery in the moonlight.

He tries to see past your walls, to place himself in your shadow.

He glances at you, then back up at the sky.

“No. It’s not ungrateful. I think we’re all born with some sort of circle around us.”

You pause for a moment, looking over at him.

“A circle?”

He nods.

“A circle. The people we love and care for? the people we would do anything for? The people who make our home, they all belong inside our circle.

My father, my mother, Lo’ak, Tuk, Kiri, they're all a part of my circle.”

He pauses for a moment, his tail swishing behind him.

“And…you are too. You’re apart of my circle, Y/n.”

You gaze at him and he withers under your eyes, averting his eyes and fidgeting with his necklace.

After a moment, he speaks again.

“I can’t imagine loosing people in that circle…things must become so…empty. As if the world seems too small all of the sudden.

So no, it’s not selfish to feel alone when that circle is gone.”

His words spark comfort. The hollowness within your palm seems less heavy.

“Thank you.”

You whisper, and he nods at you.

“You don’t have to be alone, y/n. My family…when they spoke to you tonight about staying with us when we travel to the mountains, it was not because there’s a need to replace what you once had. Y/n, we want you to embrace this new circle-“

“What if I’m not ready to find a new circle?”

The vehement tone you were bearning stunned neteyam for a moment.

“Your mother was right. The sky people will take, and they will kill, and they will hunt, until everything under the sky of pandora is either dead or theirs..”

Your eyes hardened for a moment and Neteyam was still as he took in your words.

You look up at the moon once more; taking a breath.

“I do not wish to fear them anymore, Neteyam.

I want them to be the ones who fear us.”

There was a new found devotion in your heart.

A bitter song of fire and desolation.

Vengeance.

Each note a new mockery of blood and ash. Every chorus an unfamiliar revelry of hunger.

That night, under the fallen stars and the cold moonlight, the inextinguishable plotted purpose was born within you.

Neteyam sighed; his gaze fitting back to the moon.

“And so you will..”

No.

Don’t.

I don’t want to loose you in the fire.

But he didn’t dare speak it aloud.

After a moment, he spoke again.

“I have something for you.”

He felt his heart flutter when your eyes met his.

He reached into the pocket of his loincloth.

“It was a gift I planned on giving during the ceremony.”

You felt twitch of anguish as you recalled the memory.

“You already contributed your gift..you gave that armband my father taught you how to weave.”

He gave you a tender look. The kind whispered in the solace of summer and soft secrets.

“It is for you. Not for your loss.”

His words unclouded a new warmth in your chest.

For a moment, your anger ceased to simmer.

“I made this, for you a long while ago..but I never found the right time to give it to you.

Then..the incident happened and I knew it wasn’t a good time..I was planning on giving it to you on this day..but the plans changed.”

He opened his palm to reveal a small carved wooden spiral, polished and smooth. 3 strings with little charming dangling.

The first charm was 2 purple colored crystal, the second was a wooden bead that wore a Maude color, with a tree carved on it, the last was a stack of small purple beads with marbled colors.

He placed it gently in the palm of your hand, and you cradled it with such delicacy.

“Oh it’s beautiful…”

Your breath truly caught itself in his trap.

“When we were young your mother made you that necklace out of those crystals and small jeweled beads, the one she found in the river?..you were so happy to wear something so colorful..I remember the purple ones were your favorite. You always placed them so that they were in the middle. I’d thought I’d add them as a small bonus.”

He smiled at the memory.

You hugged him, your cheek pressed against his chest, he was stunned for a moment but hugged you back, you looked up at him and your breath caught for a moment, your faces mere inches apart.

You both Depart slightly and avert your eyes.

“Thank you. It’s lovely, Neteyam.”

You said softly, he nodded and smiled at you.

“The spiral suits you. Even now with this great loss you bear. It’s a connection. Even to those who are no longer with us.”

You smiled at him back, and the two of you started to walk back to the village.

How could you not see it? The spiral. A sign of support? Of friendship? Of trust?

No my dear Y/n.

It was how he felt like his soul was steadily orbiting around you. Thoughts of you never ended.

His circle.

His spiral.

You were the center.

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

Years later….(y/n is now 18.)

(her code name is “X” neteyam’s name through comms is canonically ‘pathfinder’)

Jake yipped to Neytiri as she raised her bow and looked over her shoulder.

Her face is adorned with war paint, much like yours. She had painted you for the day. Red, purple, blue, the colors of your ikran worn proudly like a hyde of victory.

“Remember the plan.”

Jake says through his throat comms, his volume fighting the wind. You held your two fingers to the small mic on your neck so you could hear through your earpiece.

“Neytiri and I will strike from above, X, you're my Archer. I want you to hit em’ quick and move out fast. Eagle Eye, pathfinder, you two are spotters. Do not engage in close range, or air combat, understood?”

You heard lo’ak groan through his comm.

“Bro, why does Y/n get to have all the fun!?”

You felt a tinge of pride. Knowing you were Jake’s right hand out in the field. Higher ranked than either of his son’s. A skilled Archer.

“Because I'm older and I have more fun.”

You quipped back, unable to hide the smile in your voice.

“Ya know what'd be fun? If you were to crash straight into one of those mountains and fall in your cocky as-”

“Both of you! No arguing on the comms!”

You refocused as the smell of ash and metal was fast approaching. YOu and the war party arrive on the scene right on time

You flew up above the train tracks and watched as the vehicle crashed into a collision of smoke and ash on the derailed tracks. The air scorched to sting your flesh with an uncomfortable heat.

Neytiri let out a ululating sound to signal to you as she flew down to help Jake. Behind you were 3 smaller aircrafts.

You grabbed your bow from the side saddle, mentally commanding your ikran to dive.

Everyone who witnessed Y/n fight swore the wind under her ikran’s wings were grazed with fire.

She was made of red-ribboned rainstorms in a scarlet blaze of uncharted wind and wildflowers.

For a moment it’s all too real. The encore of your arrows, the satisfying stretch of your bow string, Like the last note before the chorus. You dive down, sliding down the neck of your Ikran ever so slightly as the wind stings your cheeks, the sunlight strong. You draw back, a loud call escaping your throat, and the arrow flies.

Its in a blink of an eye the cockpit window is shattered, the pilot now sporting an arrow of yours through his neck as the metal gray bird ceases it’s flight and collapses in a cloud of smoke and sulfur.

You’d usually be celebrating if two bastards weren't behind you.

You grasp two arrows this time, the long wooden shaft in your clutch as you line them up properly for the next shot.

The pilots pathetically attempt to surf with the wind beneath you, scattering your duo targets into far off spots.

Thats the thing about humans. They tiptoed on the wind as if it was uneven ground. Na’vi warriors like you danced upon airstorms and harsh rains. A swirling spiral of helix grazes your skin as you feel one of their shots fly past you the heat just missing your ikran,

You soothe him before regaining your position, you mentally make a new command to your ikran.

‘Drop’

In a moment, the settled feeling of security that once shaved your bones seems to wither away.

Your ikran free falls, rolling against the wind that whips and wails. Your chest heaves as you ready your shot, the reverberation from your bowstring sings to your fingers as the two arrows fly, hitting both pilots as your irkan regains a flying position instead of a falling one, all adrift in a fleeting shot.

The aircrafts fall together, crashing against the ground.

The ground team jake had arranged comes into view frm the side forest clearing, all watching in awe as if you were the embodiment of phoenix.

They raised their bows and let out warcalls, you pridefully returned, raising your bow above your head and releasing a war call of your own.

Neteyam watched from afar. His ikran synced with Lo’aks as they circled the scene below, na’vi led by Norm gathering all the weapons they could.

But he couldnt let himself focus on the world below when all he could see was the woman made of exquisite inferno and grace was scorching the sky with her blaze.

Neteyam felt the wind brisk through his braids as he looked up, squinting against the sunlight in hopes to catch another glimpse of you.

The light of day made you seem grazed with gold that brushed the cobalt hues.

He watched as you shot down the aircrafts, he watched you shoot two arrows.

To Neteyam, you were made of fire.

Remnants of moonlight and high-tided sea storms. A hellish radiance and a scarlet soul.

Neteyam remembered the night he saw the flame embed itself in your soul. The night he gifted you that carving that was now a charm that rested tied to the long expanse of your bow.

He hated it. How inconsolable he feared you were, how he feared this new alit flame would burn his touch away from you. Useless was an understatement, of how he felt that night, even the stars above refused to guide him down teh right path.

He knew you were angry.

He was angry too.

He wanted to fight just like you did. His hatred for these sky demons simmered beneath his skin. He was a warrior. He wanted to fight next to you and his father. He was a protector of the people.

He had seen what they had taken from his home, from his parents, his family, from you.

At first, he thought it was jealousy.

The way Jake encrusted you to be his main archer. To shoot down sky ships.

Neteyam? He wasn’t anywhere near the fighting. Not anywhere near you.

He knew his father thought him and Lo’ak were ��too important” to be fighting.

Jake was trying to salvage the sons made of stone before the heat of war can melt the rock.

Were you better than him?

Stronger than him?

Why did his father trust you more than he trusted his eldest?

As he watches you now, the archer who had her arrowhead aimed at his heart from day 1.

He knows its love. It must be.

It keeps him awake at night. The devoured feeling that gnaws at his heart. You were the center of his sky in all your celestial glory and he wished he would have gifted you the entire universe but instead he gave you that carved spiral.

He loved you because where other struggled to see in the dark you danced with dusk. You were a paradox. Detached, but focused. Because you somehow made the most dissolute and reckless seem graceful. You were real. Imperfect. Unconfined hunger bordered by each beautiful bruise blemish and scar that covered your skin.

You haunted him.

“Bro!”

And funny enough, it seems eywa created little brothers for a different kind of haunting.

Neteyams eyes flickered to where Lo’ak circled around him on his ikran.

The cold colors tattered across the ikrans purple and blue skin, trapping the yellow large speckles of shapes of the banshee’s skin.

Lo’ak’s echoes dwindle in the gust of wind, the war paint he wore proudly on either side of his face, Neteyam had watched Y/n paint Lo’ak after his begging back at high camp.

Something about Lo’aks smile in situations like these always found ways to disquiet Neteyam.

His eyebrows hover above his eyes as his fangs bare through his smile.

“Bro! We have got to get down there!”

Neteyam shakes his head, a warning look traces his features.

“No way! Dad will skin us!”

Lo’ak shakes his head, the wind uplifting his braids as he dives.

“C’mon! Don’t be a wuss!”

The flushed first notes of an uncertain heartbeat ablaze neteyam’s mind as he dives as well.

“Shit! Lo’ak! Get back you dumbass!”

Lo’ak dived blow into the musk of what might as well be no man’s land. The air wailed and whipped around him as he hopped off his Ikran. Yanking his kuru from his banshees and running towards the chaos in question.

He looked over his shoulder to see Neteyam following suit. He laughed, waving his hand through the dust and smoke.

“C‘mom bro!”

“Lo’ak!”

“Lo’ak come back!”

Lo’ak faltered momentarily when he saw Norm directing some navi’s into a brigade to gather all the weapons from the train’s supply cart. Swiftly swerving to stay out of the dream walkers sight, he joined the forming crowd where around where Tarsem had just opened a new cart of guns.

“Here boy- take this weapon! Go!”

Lo’ak let put a silly war cry and puffed up his chest,

Neteyam came to a halt.

“Lo’ak, you don’t even know how to use it.”

Lo’ak waved the gun around like it was weightless, handling it like one of Tuk’s toys.

“Nah bro. Dad taught me!”

Neteyam rolled his eyes, done with Lo’aks bullshit.

“I’m sure he did-

Let’s go-“

He grabbed lo’aks bicep but Lo’ak shrugged him off.

“Or maybe I’ll just be like y/n and shoot down some sky demons!”

Above the clouds, you circled the ensuing hustle below. Watching the brigades, monitoring the ground team. Your bow at the ready in its position on your saddle sheath.

And then you saw them.

“Son of a bitch!”

You hissed quietly, swiftily diving down to where the duo of your headache embodied currently argued about something stupid.

Lo’ak smiled as he saw you, but it faded as he watched the shadow of your Ikran (which was larger than the average Ikran, granted)

Loom over the both as you hopped down, glaring at them.

“What are you two shitheads doing here!?”

The feathers on your raid top gently shook in the breeze, a few of your beads clanking together in your braids as you made your descend.

Neteyam seemed to straighten, but his breath seemed to form a blockade for his own voice.

Maybe it was the way the brightly covered beads and feathers of your top accentuated your skin. Or maybe it was the way the fathers in your braids matched your waist beads Kiri had made you.

Maybe it was the way your loincloth seemed a bit more perfect than usual as it hugged your hips.

Maybe it was the way the red, blue, and purple war paint on your face outlined your eyes like wings and shed down your cheeks like tears, sorrowed in starlight for you had just been warrior of the wind.

I guess we’ll never know.

Lo’ak spoke for him.

“We wanted to help! C’mon, we have the ground team to be spotters! They don’t need us! I’ve been practicing the trick you taught me with the bow, just let us fly with you- we promise we’ll-“

You shot Lo’ak down before the words flooded further, the scarlet hues ablazed and begged for nothing but obedience in your voice.

“Kehe! You will do nothing-! Go back to your post. Both of you. Now!”

You swatted Lo’ak with your bow, hissing at him, Neteyam tried to drag Lo’ak away.

“Bro let’s go!-“

The sound of heavy mechanical whirring instilled the heightening of your awareness in the moment, your ears pining back as you saw the larger ship approach.

“Gun ship inbound!”

Jake shouted, you saw neytiri hiss and take off on her Ikran.

“Shit! Run!” You cursed, shoving Lo’ak and Neteyam in the opposite direction and making a break away from the approaching enemy.

As it would seem time was not in your favor, your Ikran had already been spooked away by the blast, Neteyam grabbed your hand before you could run,

“Come with us, now!

Go-!”

He shoved Lo’ak ahead of him as they ran, Neteyam’s hand clutching yours as you kept pace with the two.

The 3 of you climbed over the derailed debris, Neteyam and you scaling the bright yellow RDA logo train doors,

“Bro come on!” Lo’ak called.

A flash of light invaded your vision, the scorching heat of the blast incircled you.

You feel Neteyam attempt to reach for you, but instead all you feel is a tug on your wrist as your senses start to numb.

Your airborn for a moment, then your body collides with the uneven ground, the rocky surface below.

You groan, your vision blurring. The embers and ash clash against your skin in the harsh sting of the hot air.

You winced in pain as the adrenaline started it’s course of abandonment. The aching sensation swallows your body.

Scarlet etched its way in a jagged scratch on your side. The world seemed to darkn as the scarlet hues slowly faded to black. The sky’s golden and blue game of chance changes its rules as your eyelids become heavy.

Neteyam’s eyes shoot open as his vision readjusts itself clearly.

Lo’ak is above him, shaking him awake. Panic in the half-notes of his jagged breaths.

“Bro!? Bro! C’mon, get up we gotta go!”

Neteyam stands to his feet, groaning, but quickly regaining his senses.

He looked down at his hand to see where something small and beaded made its home in his clutch.

A bracelet?

Your bracelet.

It hit Neteyam like a tidal wave.

“Shit! Y/n-“

Neteyam tried to run past when his body collided with a taller one, Jake stood looming over his son’s, placing one hand on each of their shoulders “Hey! Easy, easy, where’s Y/n?! Are you hurt?!”

Neteyam tried to speak but all it was met with is stuttered breaths and a poor panicked exclamation.

“That way! I meant to grab her arm and I grabbed this instead-

The blast-“

Jake didn’t hesitate as he started running in the direction you were in, Lo’ak seemingly still in shock and Neteyam following his father without missing a beat,

“Stay behind boy! Get your brother out of here!”

“But sir-“

“That’s a direct order!”

Norm, quickly dragged Neteyam and lo’ak away to the sidelines of the forest to make their quick escape.

The sound of a screech flooded your ears, the footseps barely audible over the smoke and wind.

“Y/n! Oh child, Eywa please no.”

You reached for your knife with the last ounce of motor control you could muster, before a hand gently lifted you on your back, the sun’s blinding silver line halo of heat scorched your eyes, you hissed and winced in pain.

The hands were familiar, it calmed you rather quickly.

You knew it was neytiri when the blurry shape of gray purple and green, faintly recognizable as her bone collared-top.

You groaned, the raw rushes of pain encased your vision.

“I’m sorry-”

You mumbled.

“Shh. No apologies, my dear girl. Come, we must go. Quickly.”

The last thing you remember is the gently shrill of her Ikran and her hand around your waist was she settled you in front of her on her ikran. The Scarlet hue no painted the wind.

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

When you awake, its to the sound of herbs grinding soflty in a boil. The reverberations of the grinding tool against the small wooden bowl make your ears twitch.

Your vision settles. Mo’at sits infornt of the small fire in the tsahiks tent, Tuktirey by her side.

Her big eyes blinking at her grandmother’s handy-work, her much smaller tail swishing to the beat of each sound.

You sat up slowly, with a small wince. But the pain was significantly better.

Tuk gasps

“Y/n! You're alive!”

She wraps her arms around your waist, nuzzling her little head into your chest. You smile at the smaller girls, roughly a few of her braids, kissing the top of her head.

“of course I’m alive, yawntu! It would take a million Sky People to take me out.”

You teasingly mocked the position of an archer, holding a pretend bow and arrow made out of thin air as Tuk laughed.

Mo’at gently cleared her throat, making her way to you as she placed a hand on your shoulder.

“ Child, your wounds were deep, but they shall heal quickly with the salve. Kiri shall be back with more herbs soon. But please rest, simply until the bandages are removed.”

You nodded greatfully, squeezing her hand in a gesture of thank you.

She was the closest thing you would have to a grandmother, even before your parents began their journey with Eywa. You never got to meet your actual grandparents. They died in the attack on hometree. The only memory you had of them was through the clans' stories.

You wore a choker that was strung with river pearls and brown leather, a small navy-blue colored stone in the middle. A treasured piece your grandmother once wore.

Tuk snuggled up to you in the hammock, and you gently rubbed her back.

A soft rustling made your ears perk up when Kiri slipped through the tent flap with a basket of herbs.

“Tsmuke, (sister)

You are awake.”

Her expression softened, as if tensed up since the moment you returned unconscious. It probably was.

She handed the herbs to Mo’at and kneeled at your side, gently brushing a few of your braids away from your face.

“How are you feeling? Better? I used yalna bark when grandmother wasn’t looking. Was it Lo’ak again? It’s always Neteyam getting in trouble and you getting hurt when that sxkwang gets bright ideas-“

You gently stopped her mid rant. Holding her hand gently to your chest.

“I am fine, Kiri. A few scratches and bruises has never done much harm.”

She chuckled softly, standing back to her feet to assist Mo’at with the rest of the preparations for other wounded warriors.

As the hours passed, and the sun started to set, Kiri had to drag Tuktirey off to bed and Mo’at left the tent for the night. Leaving you alone to find sleep.

Mo’at had insisted you sleep in the Tsahik’ s tent tonight. Get some extra rest.

You didn’t argue. It was better than sharing a hammock with Lo’ak. The boy snored more than what you were almost certain was normal.

It was an understatement to say you nearly killed someone when you heard the tent flap rustle. You jumped, instinctly reaching for your knife.

It was well after hours.

Everyone should be asleep.

Who was it? Were you followed when you left the train?

Was it a sky demon? An animal?

You slowly felt your heart steady once again when you saw a small pale figure enter your tent, the small glimmer of his mask dances in the firelight. Lo’ak is behind him, looking less hyper than usual. Instead, a subtle tinge of gray flickered past his eyes, but it quickly gilded itself to green and gold once it settled on your form. He released a breath of relief and spider smiled.

“See? I told you she was okay.”

It took you a moment to realize that Lo’ak was worried about you.

You gave him a small smile opening your one arm that wasn’t aching, and he slipped himself under it, sitting next to you in the hammock, resting his head on your shoulder.

Lo’ak was your best friend. But really, he was so much more than that.

He was your family. Your ride-or-die.

Your right hand.

It made you feel a bit guilty, that Lo’ak seemed to prefer you over Neteyam sometimes.

Lo’ak wanted you to be his teacher when it came to his archery training and sparring. Lo’ak wanted it to be you who he went on hunts with.

Yet again, he also only lets you braid his hair because apparently neytiri pulls too hard and Neteyam doesn’t know how to tie them off properly.

Spider was a bit of a different case.

As you grew older, you realized how much you envied your motehrs sense of lightness.

Her entire being seemed to be made of golden hour gardens and softly whispered summers.

She was strong. The strongest woman you knew.

But she was kind.

She wasn’t like Neytiri in the sense that she resented all humans.

Your mother always felt a sense of protectiveness over Spider. A small, pale boy who used his heart instead of brain, chasing shimmyflys and tripping over vines that were larger than him. She welcomed him into her circle. She shielded him from the storms of strange staring and pesky fears.

Your mother always cared for Spider. Helped him re-twist his locs and make him new loincloths and hair beads. Some of your earliest memories were you and spider playing with the small carved toys in your family’s tent, or giggling after dark under the blankets after your father told you both to go to sleep.

She argued when spider had to go back to his foster family, and ended up making bargains with him to stay overnight every few days.

You’re almost positive it’s the only motherly love spider has ever known.

He cried when your mother died.

You think he might have cried more than you did.

Sobbed for days with you, and it brought you closer together.

You smiled as Lo’ak fidgeted with one of the bracelets on your wrist.

When you were about 8, Lo’ak was 7, spider was 9, your mother carved you these special beads for the three of you to use.

You three decided to make bracelets and your father helped you string them together, all collecting charms and gifting them to one another to add.

The two biggest stones were carved river crystal the two boys collected, Lo’ak rolled the beads between his two extra fingers, sporting a bracelet of his own you and spider made him.

“So, I heard you got your ass kicked.”

Spider snickered. Sitting down in front of you.

You whacked him with your tail.

“Fuck off. Those sky demons ate my arrows.”

Spider groaned,

“I’m so pissed. I heard you fell down in a explosion and ate shit-

And now one took a picture for me!”

Lo’ak threw and arm around your shoulder and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh yeah. And her Romeo was panicking because he didn’t save her in time”

You flushed, shoving him away.

Spider laughed, standing up.

“I can only imagine-“

He cleared his throat, before making his voice go an obnoxious pitch higher, twirling his locs around his fingers and batting his eyes, mimcmking what was supposed to be you.

“Oh Neteyam! My big strong warrior man! Come save me!”

You hissed in annoyance, but couldn’t help but bite back laughter at the back of your throat.

Lo’ak stood to his feet, puffing up his chest and taking his braid out of the way he tied them back, letting them hang, deepening his voice and stomping towards spider, dramatically holding him in his arms as spider collapsed with a loud rehearsed sigh.

Lo’aks Neteyam imitation sent you over the edge, you were now cackling and had rolled out of your hammock.

“I’ll save you from the demon ships with my bow and arrow!”

Lo’ak, you, and spider all break into a fit of laughter, rolling around on the ground. Lo’ak steadying himself by burying his face in your shoulder as spider banged his fist on the ground, finally, as the laughter died down, the three of you stared at the top of the tent, out of breath, the only sound being the gentle wheezing endnotes of your breaths.

“Glad you kicked some ass today. Those fucking RDA pilots didn’t stand a chance against you and that bow of yours.”

Spider whispered. Nudging your shoulder gently.

You smiled at him, Lo’ak squished in between you.

The three of you said your goodnight s, and you watched the two missing parts of your circle leave the tent before they could get caught after lights out.

You nestled back into the hammock, staring up at the ceiling.

The aching in your arms hasn’t completely vanished it’s fortification of pain in your shoulder.

You gently rub circles around the small carved spiral you untied from the long shaft of your bow when spider dragged it inside.

You played with the small crystals and the beads, gently humming to yourself.

Your fingers traced along the shape, Neteyams eyes invaded your mind.

It was fascinating, really. How a warrior such as yourself had won today's battle and yet the one thing you truly yearned for was still not within your grasp.

It hurts sometimes, to think about how beautiful he was.

The way his irises encompassed golden hour in all its starlight sessions.

The air was thicker in the mountains like this, up here in high camp. Perhaps that’s why the sweltering residual warmth that rippled across your skin like lillies to a pond every time you thought of him

You wondered if he tasted like the sun. Sweet, possibly bitter. Bleak and addicting, such a delicacy deserved to never touch your lips.

Alas the stars did not align for you.

Not tonight.

You trace the spiral one last time before letting your eyes flutter closed.

Your tail flicked as you heard yet another rustling.

The sound of footsteps, slightly heavier than last time.

You groaned.

“Spider did you forget something again?..”

When no answer was heard you grumbled. Standing to your feet and untying the tent flap, only to be met with two two golden hour orbs that had just plagued your mind.

“”Neteyam?..”

authors note:

I’m finally done! I haven’t slept in two days but I’m finished. I can’t decided whether I like the way this turned out but I LOVE some of the smaller little details. Y/n is such a badass and she’s in her reputation era (I am not a swiftie). We love to see it 😩👏 this first one was a lil angsty but I PROMISE y’all, this series is NOT angst. I’ve got a ton of stuff planned. I’m thinking maybe a little bit of jealous Neteyam? Some humor? Spider and Lo’ak being the captain of the ship? Mo’at being a sassy Granmda? Maybe some sister bonding with Kiri? AHHH IM SO HYPED. I, about to pass out and I can’t feel my fingers but that’s it for now! Stay tuned for part 2 🏹

-Sol

Jan 2034

“Virago” series, chp. 1.

Taglist:

@plooto

#neteyam x reader #neteyam #avatar the way of water #neteyam sully #jake avatar #kiri sully #avatar fanfiction #lo’ak x reader #neteyam x you #neytiri

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hurtmemoreplease · 1 month

Text

It's a complicated bit of legalese, alright? I don't really get all the technical stuff myself, honestly. From what I understand, whatever I have instead isn't technically a soul. Yeah, 'below the threshold,' or whatever.

Yeah yeah I'm getting there, okay? Jeez. Cut a girl some slack, will you? It means that I'm not actually a person. Isn't that wild? There's some registry in the government that has my name, well, 'label,' you know, cause of the uh... lack of personhood. Can't have a name if you're not actually human, apparently.

Anyway, as far as God and the government are concerned, I'm a sack of meat with nerve endings. There's things like me all over the place, apparently, and no one knows unless you're tested. Your coworker, your girlfriend... hey, maybe you could be one too!

Come on, stop hitting me! I was kidding! So what I've been getting at is that I need... and this is kind of important... a signature. Yep. Just a name, written on a line, that says 'hey government! This thing is being useful! Don't turn it into glue, please!"

Haha... I know its a lot of responsibility, but you don't have to worry about it! I'll stay out of your way, and I mean... I've known you for years! I can trust you not to revoke that, right?

Hm? Yeah, I mean, legally, sure, you would be my owner, but you wouldn't have to do anything. I could just- you want to?

I can't actually refuse, you know? I guess I'm lucky that it was you who said it first, instead of some creep pervert grabbing me off the street, haha. People like-sorry! Still getting used to it. Things like me are popular with creeps, you know. We look and sound like people but just... aren't. Have you heard of snuff?

Oh, you have? Cool, guess I don't really have to explain it then. Anyway, let's go get these papers signed and then we can figure out how I'm going to be useful to you!

Huh? You already have an idea? Well, I guess if you're telling me not to worry about it...

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rottenr0ckets · 1 month

Text

https://www.tumblr.com/pyroy3/758317686261432320/compiling-additional-proof-against-wilbur-into?source=share

Debunking this post show casing "proof against wilbur"I will go into detail but first I must say most of this isn't proof it is word by mouth and just stories taken out of context or made out to sound malicious As I had referenced to in a previous post take this as a "tldr"As that's said let's begin

Important note that any response to this post that is aggressive, threatening, rude, immature, insulting, ect, will be blocked and ignored

1. Shebly shubble herself has gone back on her words and addmited to the biting being fully consented to. "I didn't consent to getting hurt" she did. She consented to the biting. After wilbur worked with her to get a safe word. If he worked to get a safe word it should of been made clear it would hurt. It never left bruises or cuts though. As you can see in pictures of her during that time there is none. It isn't easy to hide with makeup and if it broke skin as she said it would of gotten infected human mouths are full of bacteria and one bite breaking skin could cause serious infections (speaking as someone who used to violently bite themself) she agreed to the safe word and the biting with wilbur himself saying he had picture proof of it (not sharing out of respect for sheblys privacy which she didn't reciprocate obviously) she even sated she consented every time. So she did it many times knowing how hard he'd bite. "He ignored the safe word" no. He didn't. He only took a second to respond. Snap your fingers. That is a second. Maybe a bit more but never too much. With shebly admitting to not using the safe word properly and just instead screaming at him it's reasonable he'd take time or have a instinct reaction before letting go.

2. 3 reasons in two of them is not proof but relying on sheblys words. That is not proof. That is word by mouth. That is the reason people request proof (which shebly has been known to block people for asking) to use words as proof is to believe everything you see online which is by knowledge the #1 rule of the internet. People have their rights to belive by word of mouth or by proof. No one is obligated to trust her immediately. Not anyone. She has put a name to the person (said directly or not she had confirmed and put his name on the role of the abuser) which means no one is obligated to believe her. She has accused so there is permission to be skeptical as believing without proof can and has a long history of ruining innocent peoples lives. If everyone believed every accusation without proof we wouldn't have schlatt, will wood, tommy, tubbo, ranboo, philza, shebly herself ect All have long histories of being accused of things some lesser known than others. If we believed without proof when a name is connected to the accused it had been known to cause horrific things to happen to innocent people. Words aren't proof. History shows that. Her own actions show that. She's changed her story many times her words go against others stories and even her own.

3. The Disneyland video. Using how wilbur had stepped on tommys hand for untying his shoe as proof isn't really proof. "He never apologized" maybe not on camera. We never know what happens off camera. And even so he had done several other things in that video that could add up to an apology without words. Such as buying tommy all those candies to help his low blood sugar. As someone who used to have it that shit mean so fucking much I don't think many would understand. Also are we going to forget all the times tommy hit wilbur? How they play fight all the time how they laugh when they do it? Philza minecraft had witnessed it and played along treating them like as if they were rowdy brothers. Which is what their relationship is mainly about them being brotherly like genuine brothers. Philza conforming it saying they were like brothers off camrea as they were on maybe even a bit more. Do you think if it was wrong philza would stay so calm whenever they'd hit eachother? That they'd laugh and continue to hang out? Should we forget all the times tommy did equal stuff to wilbur that could be considered abusive by your standards if you feel this is proof of abuse? This goes along with your other yaps. Tommy hand begins *jokingly* bitten at a concert. It was a joke. And goes along with what I had said before. Now there was one you brought up that neither of us can speak on

https://youtu.be/Pcs3UcjKeXo?t=2111

4. Technoblade apple incident. In personal belief. Neither of each side can use this as proof. Not you not I not anyone. This includes a dead man. Someone who can't speak on this. Someone who can't share their side. Someone who should be left to rest and not have his name dragged into a story that doesn't involve him. We weren't there. You weren't there. No one but wilbur and technoblade were there. It is a story wilbur shared in memory of him. A silly light hearted story about an accident that had happened. He showed remorse, regret and showed himself to admire how well technoblade had handled it. He explained it was an accident. He didn't mean to hit his shoulder. No one else was there. So no one but him can confirm it. He used that story to tell on how strong technoblade was how he looked up to him. There is no sign of abuse. No one can confirm or deny it. The other is dead. And the one who told the story is the accused. We may never know if it truly was meant to have ill intent or not. You can read his mind you can't pull apart his words to figure out some.secret thing about him being abusive or not. There's nothing. Don't drag techno into this. Let the man rest.

5. Song lyrics. Now with these this is tricky. He had confirmed he does this thing where he switches the pronouns referring to himself as "she" or the the girl in the song and sings through the pov of the other person pretending it to be him. He's done this with his song Warsaw. So with his others songs he hasn't confirmed he does this it's up for debate. And if we're to use his songs as evidence against him. What about msr. It came out after his rs with shebly and has lyrics that oddly fit her. From her personality to complaints she made about him. If you were to argue his lyrics could reference him being abusive what about msr that closely resembles shebly and talks about wilbur being harmed phycally and emotionally several lyrics hitting at him being physically harmed by his partner. What about how most songs that came out after their rs have themes of wilbur being harmed a lot more recent ones talking about physical abuse in some parts.

Lyrics for example;

Trying not to think abiut it: "Never been the one for romance

Never thought that I'd get married

Never been the kind to give a shared life a second glance

Selfish prose, a lifestyle of a stained-glass window"

The median: "Please don't ask what these words mean

Just please don't misinterpret me"

Amazon standing lamp: "hit me now before it gets to cute, don't make me beg in this hotel room"

Mine/yours: "you never liked me when drunk I'm starting to believe you never liked me at all"

"I stand just outside the reach of your fists And take myself away, a gangrenous limb And dance around the subject, a figure of eight Describe all the parts of me I'm yet to break Count all the parts of me I'm yet to break"

The list goes on. As well as more and more of their recent songs more more seemingly reflecting shebly and describing her. Just as you did. I used lyrics and songs to make theories. Is this proof? Or is it just an idea and rambling. Take mine as just that then you go back on your own word of providing proof. There is no proof. Only ideas and theories. To use lyrics of older songs most from before he dated shebly is to be just as valid as using songs from after their break up

6. Saying he doesn't know what his songs were about. He does. He wrote them. He's told us the meaning of them before. In the genius interview he was high. Obviously not sober😭😭😭 idk what else to say on this really he was just high he is a known weed smoker and had smoked before the interview most likely to calm his nerves since he's made it very clear is anxiety causes him lots of.issues and is the reason why he even took his mental health break in the first place.

7. "Pretty privilege" this is one I've heard people use a lot along with "he's white!" "He's cis!" "He's a man!!" That's means nothing. Most wss addmit to having used to support shebly before given a reason not to. We supported shebly until given reason to doubt her. She has holes in her story. History of lying not just with relationships but also her whole merch fall out that caused many issues and showed her to be not so innocent. There is no pretty privilege. Most people turned to support shebly there is no minority of supporting shebly wss don't support wilbur because he's pretty or white it's because they have reason be it proof, holes in stories, ect. Is shebly herself not pretty? Is she not at considerably a higher beauty standard than wilbur? People go based off proof not appearance. Wilbur being a man means nothing. Are men not able to be abused? It is always women being the damsels in distress and not the abuser? To go into this would go into deeper topic I wish not to yet cover in this since it much more severe. But pretty has nothing to do with this. It's proof. Shebly has said she has no proof wilbur has said he has proof shebly has gone on her word wilbur as referred to it as allegations that "deeply shocked him". Do not begin with pretty privilege because I can assure you it's not that.

8. "He only targeted women smaller than him so he could pin them down." That's uhm.. well first off shebly is a body builder and does weights and wilbur looks like a starving Victorian child. Also most women are smaller than him he's above the average height women are naturally shorter than men to so idk what is going on in that. That's just a wild thing to say.

9. I will be grouping Alice, minx and Nikki together in this. Minx, her story was saying how when they got drunk together she tried to do something nice yes but it triggered him and he screamed at her. He was drunk to the point he was throwing up. It's not a surprised it would be something small like that to trigger him and even after she even said he apologized profusely to her and she still left. Minx is not one to be trusted since she can't even beat her own allegations against her for abuse and racism. She's known to lie and put herself in others stories and just be a horrible person. Nikki, Nikki was the one to instigate their friendship having gone on a TV dating show to talk to wilbur. She was the one that started every interaction. Wilbur had no problem distancing himself from her when shipping made them uncomfortable, she was the one to mention him without being forced to she was the one who had his stickers she was the one who showed herself as a fan in moments where she didn't need to..she never once showed no signs of being afraid of him and in fact only ever trying to instigate a friendship. Alice. I could say a lot about her. From her story conflicting with sheblys, to times not adding up to picurte proof of her lying about things. It's a lot to say on her.

Here's a link proving debunking alice with evidence:

https://x.com/UltraViole74456/status/1767408802465243341

With that. There is no proof in this post, just opinions and theories. Thank you for reading. Avoid putting false proof in posts about serious matters. Options and theroies do not count as proof. What does count as proof is pictures, screenshots, videos, audio recordings, official documents, posts of addition, anything that shows abuse without having to make theories, or that isn't affected by personal beliefs and shows the actions. I apologize for any grammar mistakes I might have made writing this.

#dont like dont interact #wilbur soot #wilbur support squad #wss #shebly shubble #nikki #minx #wilbur soot support

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melanieph321 · 3 months

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Kenan Yilidiz x Reader - Thick Part 5/8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Kenan and Reader share the same high school friend group. As graduation is near, Reader sets out to pass her drivers license test but ultimately struggles to. Thankfully Readers friends agree to help her with driving lessons and take turns doing so. It is during one of Rader's lessons that it becomes clear that Kenan likes her. A chock to Reader, who has a crush on someone else in their friend group.

Enjoy!

"So, what's going on with you and Kenan?" Maria asked, on your weekly drive to school.

"Pardon?"

"Oh please, Y/N. Don't lie. We all know that the two of you are hooking up."

Your driving has improved. After two months of consistent driving lessons with your friends, you were finally getting a hang of the rhythm of traffic. Although, you had to admit that your progress all came down to one driver.

"What do you mean, who told you that?" You said, in a desperate attempt to maintain your honor.

"It's pretty obvious." Maria chuckled. "The two of you are always flirting across the table during lunch hour and the fact that Kenan drives you home everyday kind of gives it away, don't you think?"

"Okay, but what about you and Gio?" You blurred out, as immense heat burned your cheeks.

"What about us?" Maria laughed.

"Well, aren't you two hooking up?"

"Yes, but the difference is that the two of us aren't trying to hide it from the world. Why would you? Kenan is a great guy and seems to like you a lot."

"I know." You sighed as if it were a bad thing. "It's just that I don't think we'd make a good couple. I need someone more intuned with life, someone intellectual and cool. Someone who thinks with his brain and not with his dick. Someone like...."

"Luca?"

You turned to Maria as the car pulled up to a stop sign. "How did you know?"

She grinned. "Again, you make it quite obvious."

"Oh. I guess I have to work on that."

"Yeah. Besides, isn't Luca dating that redhead from the record store downtown?"

"They're just hooking up." You said, having investigated the matter futher ever since you discovered their love dispute. It was therefore important for you not to get too attached to Kenan, that is, if Luca ever decided to come back to earth again and realize that the perfect girl for him was already right by his side.

"I dunno, they seem pretty serious. Luca even asked if she could come with us to Bari this summer."

"He what?"

"Crazy, I know. I said it was cool, but of course Rebecca had to go on about the seating in the car, how there wasn't room for more people in the one we have. It's funny really..."

"What is?"

"Well, it really depends on you if she comes with us or not. If you manage to pass your driver's test there'll be more seats." She laughed. However you didn't find it funny at all.

School that day went by in a flash. Apparently, Luca called in sick today so that he and his band could travel to Milano and meet with a record label. The thoughts of his "girlfriend" traveling with him angered you, completely ruining your day.

".....and then he shot the bear in the face which left his jaw hanging out from its head. It was the craziest shit I've ever seen."

Kenan drove you home again after school. He had Gio on speaker as the two of them wouldn't stop going on and on about a movie that they saw last night.

"Thanks for the ride." You muttered, when his car pulled up to your house.

"Y/N, wait!" You made it up the driveway when Kenan came running after you, carrying something in his hand. "I forgot to give you this." He handed you what looked to be a football jersey, a Juventus jersey to be exact.

"Erm....thank you?" You held up the shirt, regarding it skeptically. The number 15 was visible on the back of it. Along with Kenan's last name Yildiz.

"It's for the charity game tomorrow. I thought you'd want to wear it."

"Why would I want to do that?" You snorted but instantly regretted doing so, seeing how Kenan's expression faltered.

"I dunno?" He scratched the back of his head. "I guess it's a thing that players' girlfriends wear their jerseys. Who knows? it might bring me good luck."

"Kenan, it's a charity game." Which you now regretted going to. However, all of your friends were going, including Luca.

"I know." He chuckled. "But you should keep it, for future games."

You sighed. "I'm not your girlfriend Kenan, I thought we went over this?"

He looked like he wanted to protest. Poor thing. But just then the front door to your house came ajar, with your dad stepping out onto the porch. "Y/N, honey, is that you?"

You turned around, quite stunned to see him home this early in the day. "Dad? You're home."

"Yes, and so is your mother. We've been expecting your arrival. I was unaware that you were bringing along a friend." His eyes shot towards Kenan, who crumbled at the sight of your dad, a man three heads taller than himself. "Erm....Mr Y/L/N." He stuttered. At least he hadn't forgotten his manners.

"Yes, that's me." Your dad spoke in a voice intimidating for anyone who didn't know him.

"I was just dropping her off." Kenan turned to you, eyeing the jersey in your hands. "But I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you."

You watched Kenan walk back to his car and drive off.

"Is he a friend of yours?" Your dad asked, shutting the door behind you.

"Yeah, something like that."

*********************************

The next day, you waited until the last minute to decide whether you were going to the game or not. If you failed to show up, you'd be a shitty friend. But if you did show up, you were basically agreeing to be Kenan's girlfriend. Something that you weren't ready to do. At least not yet.

"I heard that Luca is bringing that girl who dresses like a homeless person." Rebecca said. She came over to your house, not minding if you chose to attend the game or not. She was good either way.

"I figured." You sighed. "They've been dating for a while."

Rebecca sat up in bed. She regarded you, lying on your back, eyes glued to the sealing. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, everyone knows that you like Luca."

"Not Kenan."

"Kenan?" She frowned.

You pushed up to rest on your elbows, nodding your head. "He asked me to be his girlfriend and that I'd go to the game wearing his jersey."

Rebecca covered her mouth with her hand, smothering her laughter.

"It's not funny."

"Y/N, what are you gonna do?"

"I don't know." You cried. "I really don't know."

"I say we go."

"Huh?"

Rebecca nodded her head. "Don't you see? Imagine if you turned up to the game wearing Kenan's Jersey. Who knows, Luca might get jealous?"

"You think so?"

"We won't know unless we go. Come on!"

It was stupid of Rebecca to let you practice your driving during a time like this. Your fingers drummed impatiently on the steering wheel. Apparently, the entire city had decided to hit the roads at the same time as you. You glanced at the watch on the dash, your anxiety growing with each passing minute. As you finally reached the stadium. The scoreboard read 2-0, and the crowd was already cheering. You missed the first half of the game.

"There's Gio and Maria!" Rebecca pointed out. And as you climbed up the stands to join them, their grins winded at the sight of you, wearing Kenan's jerseys.

"Whoever speaks loses their tongue." You said, to which Gio and Maria sealed their mouths with an ironic gesture. You then settled in to watch the second half, scanning the crowd, in search for.....

"Luca couldn't make it." Maria said. "His band was scheduled for a second meeting with the record label in Milano."

You turned to Rebecca.

"I swear I had no idea."

"For fucks sake." Why did you ever leave your house, you thought, on the verge of throwing a tantrum. But then a whistle blew and the players on the field started running across it again.

"There goes Kenan!" Gio said, cheering for his friend.

You scanned the field for Kenan's familiar number 15 jersey. You spotted him on the field, his face set in determination, eyeing his opponents. A fire lit within you, watching him. He looked so focused, so masculine. Like someone intellectual and cool. Someone intuned with life.

The game was over before you knew it, nevertheless, you hadn't paid attention to any of it.

Kenan was seen jogging towards you, a mix of relief and excitement on his face. "You made it and you're wearing my jersey."

A flush of heat rose to your cheeks. "I....I guess I did, and I guess I am."

Kenan's expression softened, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you towards him. The last thing you heard before he kissed you was Gio and Maria's astonished gasps and Rebecca smothering her sounds of disgust. However, none of it mattered. The way he kissed you did. Kenan pressed his lips against you as if it was the first time. He was gentle yet eager, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. He kissed you to the sound of a crowd cheering him on. He kissed like you were the one, the only girl for him.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

#fanfiction #football imagine #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #football angst #kenan yildiz x reader #kenan yildiz #juventus fc

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pythoness94 · 2 months

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Honestly? i think it would make more sense for Vecna to go after Mike then Will at the point. NOW NOW, let me explain. Okay? Listen, we all know Vecna is gunning for Will, we know he wants Will either gone or for something else. However, in every plan, every time Venca gets his grubby mitts on Will, there is something that steps in his way. Mike, Mike found El and convinced her to find Will. Mike stopped the possession. Mike figured out how to do the sauna test and played a big part in season 3. In season 4 he helped pull El out of the possession (all be it poorly, and barely, he sucked ass but it's fine, he has internalized homophobia.), drove across the country to get back to Hawkins. Like, honestly, don't you find it kinda weird that the Venca shit started to happen the MOMENT Mike was out of Hawkins, and only Mike? Mike is important to every single party member, even Jonathan and Steve to an extent. Even the people Mike isn't really connected with (Robin) he's connected with the people they're connected with (Dustin.) The ONLY person Mike isn't fully connected to is Max and Vecna took her off the board early, not just to lower moral but to take off the only other potential leader that wouldn't COMPLETELY fall apart if Mike was to die.

If Mike was to die, the entire house would crumble with him. Will would fall apart (Which is just what Vecna wants.) Nancy and the entire Wheeler and Byer family would too. Nancy because her vision came true and she couldn't protect him and the Byers not only because Mike is like a third son to them, but because of the lost of Will that would come with it. Dustin would fall because he already lost Eddie, then he would lose everybody else in one fail swoop if Mike was to die. Lucas, same reason and he lost Max. El? even if they aren't dating, Mike is important to her. Mike was the first person to see El HAS a person and not just a means to an end. He gave her a name that wasn't a number. El would not only lose the party, her best friend (Max) and her first friend ever. (Mike.) El would lose everyone. Mike is so interconnected to the party that he is the support beams; you take out the supports and the house falls with it. Venca KNOWS that. So, hear me out, Will wandering off isn't him getting fully possessed but a vision like Nancy had. He's taunting Will, he's going "Keep an eye on your heart or else you'll lose it." so that way when he swipes Mike away, and Mike would be vulnerable more so to Vecna because he lost Holly, Will would be EVEN more guilty and therefore exactly where Vecna wants him.

I think Vecna would go. "alright, this kid keeps fucking up my plans, he keeps figuring everything out and bringing everyone with him, he keeps bringing Will and El back. I'm going to torment the fuck out of him and monitor him at all times until I can get rid of him." I have no clue how church gate would fit into this, but I just know that it would make the most sense for Mike to get beamed by Vecna.

#byler #stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers #byler endgame #fan theory #vecna #rambles

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sweetestpopcorn · 2 months

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Hello!! I know that aside from Daemon/Rhaenyra, you are a fan of Baelon/Alyssa. I just wanted to ask, what is your opinion on Viserra, or on the whole Viserra seducing Baelon after Alyssa’s death? Do you think Baelon might have been able to save Viserra from her fate if he had agreed to marry her (even if he didn’t love her)? What is your opinion on this pair?

Hi there :)

Yes, after Daemyra Baelon and Alyssa are definitely my favourite Targaryen couple.

About the rest of your ask, I don't think Viserra fans will like my answer, but I don't quite care for Viserra. I have talked about it in the past that I see Saera and Viserra as very shallow characters with almost nothing to them. They were written as mean girls and that's about it, besides being Targaryens and physically very attractive, I don't actually see any redeeming qualities in them.

Saera at least you could argue was sort of funny, in a heartless, sociopathic Cersei kind of way, and I did admire how she later on in life wanted nothing to do with Westeros or the Iron Throne saying she had her own kingdom was a cool moment. But regardless she was cruel, unnecessarily so (e.g., Tom the Turnip anyone?), and worse with someone much weaker than her which also makes her a sort of coward. Like I said she had many sociopathic traits, and her behaviour itself is very congruent with a sociopathic personality type.

Viserra is a bit better in that regard in the sense that she was not needlessly cruel to anyone weaker than her for fun, even if she poked fun at young men who lusted after her, sometimes in quite dangerous ways (e.g., when she dares them to put their heads inside a dragon's mouth, I think the prize was her V card if memory serves right). But like Saera is mean and cold for the sake of being mean and cold, Viserra is ambitious and cold for the sake of being ambitious and cold.

We are both shown and told she wanted power and to be queen and F feelings and all that, but we are never really given a proper reason as to why. I would guess that being child #10 in a very large family would make you starved for attention, likely importance as well, since her only selling point in that family was being the most beautiful of the sisters. It was (VERY) unlikely she would ever be queen, so maybe because of that it became an ambition of hers? There was also something arrogant about her because of her looks, thinking that that would be enough to just give her what she wanted without having to rely on anything else. In that sense she has no depth, what you see is pretty much what you get and neither is very good or particularly compelling.

So, no, I wouldn't want her to marry Baelon, nor for Baelon to be interested in her. In fact, I loved that he wasn't and that after she spoke in such a nasty way about the sister she thought herself so physically superior too that Baelon gave Viserra a cold hard dose of reality of he's Baelon Targaryen, not a failed Baelon like Tywin Lannister.

Sure that some people find love again in life, and I am all for it. But some people aren't like that, and I found a lot of beauty in that aspect of Baelon's character, of how devoted he remained to the memory of his lady with the mismatched eyes. I would have hated for that to be ruined, especially in the name of such an ambitious and empty character like Viserra. If he was to marry her, whatever the reason, he would not be Baelon because that was a central aspect to his character.

All this aside I did feel bad about how Viserra was treated by Alysanne, almost like she was the final boss Alysanne had to defeat. I think this is a great example at times of George's incongruence with how he writers characters in F&B. Pretty much their end is decided so he just does whatever he has to to get there, at times with little regard with what he previously established. Are we supposed to believe that the same Alysanne who still loved and wanted to forgive Saera, even defended her, would be so cold and mean to Viserra? Sorry, I don't find it the least bit believable. Like show us on the doll where Viserra touched you Alysanne. Regardless of her not deserving this or her cruel fate, I still don't really care about Viserra nor think she had any redeeming qualities.

And that is my take.

Thank you for coming to my Tumblr Ted Talk!

Much love to you <3

#viserra targaryen #baelon targaryen #canon baelon targaryen #fire and blood #house targaryen #pre asoiaf #popcorn answers #this was an easy one

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lackadaisically-m · 4 months

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This is Not a hate post towards Carlos Sainz. I don't really like him but still think he's a good driver - that is, however, not always enough.

For anyone genuinely wondering what reasons RBR could possibly have to sign Checo instead of Carlos, here's a few that have nothing to do with driving ability, but are no less important to a team:

1. The car - Checo is already used to the RBs, which, much like the SF, and almost any other car on the grid I'd imagine, are tailored towards the preferences of the no.1 driver of the team, in this case - Max. Max and Carlos, to put it simply, have very different preferences for their setup so Carlos would realistically have a really tough time in the car and I don't think he'd adapt quick and efficient enough to not cost the team significant points. Checo is also already very familiar with the current RB environment so he doesn't need a warmup period, he's ready to go.

2. Sponsors and marketability - Checo has a huge latin fanbase. He's very beloved outside your typical European - centered fanbase circles. He brings in insane revenue from RB marketing in Latin America. That is, of course, very valuable to a team. Carlos, unfortunately, doesn't have too many sponsors of his own and isn't nearly as marketable. I know he seems more popular because of european fans, but trust me, people go insane for Checo.

3. Professional relationship between drivers - RBR needed a clear no.2 driver for that empty seat. Checo is the perfect pick because he knows he's going to be second to Max and that Max will be getting preferential treatment. He knows his role is to support Max and try to bring in as many points as possible for the team. He wouldn't try to fight Max for position, thus risking leaving space for other teams to attack. He has shown on multiple occasions, that he Can and Will defend against other teams. Carlos didn't seem to get the memo at Ferrari, he probably wouldn't have gotten it at RBR either. Carlos clearly isn't satisfied being a no.2 driver in a team, which is unfortunate, because that's all that's left in the top teams. They wouldn't want a driver who's willing to risk track position and potentially lose points for the team while trying to pass their own teammate.

4. Personal relationship between drivers - Now this is also important, because while drivers are professionals and can be collegial while also disliking each other, the team works best if they don't have to force interaction and amicability. It has been mentioned on multiple occasions that during their joint Toro Rosso days, Max and Carlos didn't exactly get on that well. You could argue that they have grown and changed a lot since then, yes, but if the team already has a driver available that they know for sure gets along with Max, why would they go for uncertainty?

There's definitely more reasons for this decision, that we, as the public, are not aware of. I just saw so many people disappointed and/or angry at the renewal, saying Carlos is more deserving yada yada. You aren't entitled to a seat just because you're good as an individual driver. And for the record, Checo isn't as bad as most people are making him out to be. He's a solid driver, experienced and very adaptable too. Put some respect on his name.

#silly season #checo perez #sp11 #sergio perez #carlos sainz #cs55 #sergio checo perez

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kerubimcrepin · 2 months

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Wakfu OVA - Book 2, Ush [PART 10]

Joris is literally so funny. "Yeah I know. We're kinda doomed. I knew this from the start. Very typical of Ush."

Remi is literally me if I got isekai'd to WoT.

Get scared.

Joris looks so unbothered. 😭 I think this is like,., a normal situation for Kerubim to be in, during a battle.

They're more worried about their own skins. Good.

I'm literally insane.

Joris reached out towards Atcham and cried out his name. just so you know. just so you know that I noticed this.

youtube

I am not going to question the bad writing here, with Atcham somehow learning this from Ush while getting beaten up. Because I am having way too much fun (as if you couldn't see from me getting to fucking PART TEN of liveblogging this OVA.)

[starts hacking up blood] chat i think im going to check into an asylum real quick.

Maybe he wouldn't be so mean girls if his father loved him. Did you ever think about that king Sheran-Sharm.

I think that one of the themes of Wakfu is noblesse oblige. Which is typical of fantasy series, but creates an interesting clash with the themes of familial love that are also present in the series.

It asks "is the good of many more important than the good of you and your family?" a lot, and it never really answers this question — which is good, it's one of those questions that has many different answers depending on the circumstance. (Like for example, killing people to ressurect your family is bad, actually. But also, sacrificing personal happiness to kill people for the sake of Bontarian Prosperity, is also, apparently, bad. Very big moral conundrums, I know.)

Tristepin, Amalia, and Yugo never asked to be born into power. Really, it seems all they want is to live with their families and be free — but they are burdened by their noblesse oblige nevertheless. Amalia has always known this, but for Yugo and Tristepin it was something they were forced into unexpectedly.

It's sad, really.

HE'S WINNING, HE'S WINNING!

fFDGKLSJDKGLSJDFKLGJSDFGJISPFDJGSKDFGSDFG

The second Joris seems concerned, he turns off the "you're leaving your sons, indignant father" mode and goes back to the usual "DON'T WORRY ABOUT ANYTHING MY LITTLE JOJO. IF IT LOOKS LIKE IM LOSING — NO IM NOT."

He looks like he's about to faint.

But it literally means you're not even destroying the Dofus. Like what is the fail state then, if they aren't actually being pushed into one another 😭

Another instance of Kerubim and Atcham dropping the "dad" nickname... I'm insane... I'm crazy.

He's insulting Atcham for being a twink⁉️

His tactic here really is "I'm killing us both."

While we weren't watching, Remington managed to give Kerubim a black eye, and Joris finally regrouped with his faildad.

REVENGE.

#ro liveblogs dofus #krosmoz #dofus #wakfu #wak3 #Youtube

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hollowed-theory-hall · 2 months

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Just how scary are Voldemort and the Death Eaters exactly? Because when you look outside of it [the story] and sort of disconnect with it, they [V & the DE’s] seem sort of cartoony and unserious.

But if you really dig deep into it, and connect yourself with it, just how chilling and sinister are they?

Well, I tried to get a grasp on how much damage the Death Eaters actually caused in the books for my analysis of Voldemort. After all, he was giving them the orders (at least in the first war). So, I detailed the evidence for how many and who was killed in the two wars and the difference between them here.

As for how scary that makes them, honestly, the Death Eaters are probably scarier to me when they don't have Voldemort at the helm. As I explained in the post I linked, when Voldemort’s around and controls their movements, less people die. When Voldemort actually cares to be involved we don't get muggleborns randomly being rounded up. Voldemort is more strategic about waging war. He aims to harm only whoever he needs to harm. He isn't sadistic or cruel for no reason. If Voldemort orders something done (especially in the first war before he kinda gave up), there is a reason for it that runs deeper than: "I felt like it".

I mean, the majority of Death Eaters aren't incredibly competent, intelligent, or magically powerful. That's not the risk with them. The risk with them is their number combined with cruelty and lack of any form of control.

In book 7, we have Snatchers who get paid for bringing in witches and wizards who say Voldemort’s name, we got muggleborns being rounded up, Amycus and Alecto Carrow are at Hogwarts torturing children. In book 6, it's mentioned they destroyed a muggle bridge — all things that just didn't happen in the first war. They clearly act as terrorists and don't put too much effort into making the government now in their control actually competent for its people (even pure-bloods) but only good for those they like.

Basically, in terms of government, they just exasperated the shitty nepotism already there. In terms of actual acts of terrorism and battles, we don't see much, but we are led to believe more are happening than what we actually see on page. With characters mentioning repeatedly throughout the final two books how people are disappearing.

So, I don't know how I'd rate Death Eaters terror from 1 to 10, mostly because they really aren't that competent on an individual basis. But with Voldemort being off after the Elder Wand in books 6 and 7, you see how they lack control. They aren't competent because they don't care to be, they are just collectively lashing out and that makes them dangerous. It makes them as a group hard to predict and practically impossible to negotiate with.

With Voldemort, you can convince him not to kill you in certain circumstances, he can be convinced to show mercy (unless your name is Harry Potter), then he'd give the order and you'll be fine. Even if he kills you, you know it'll most likely be quick and painless (killing curse). The way we see it in book 7, you need to convince each new individual Death Eater to leave you alone, and even then there are no guarantees. The majority of them could promise you one thing and turn back on the promise in a heartbeat if they can gain even scraps from it. And they are more likely to torture and make it a humiliating experience.

They also don't share information with each other, like, barely at all. Each one of them is trying to climb up over the other Death Eaters, so without Voldemort coordinating between them, they're not working effectively as an organization. Voldemort practically made sure they wouldn't be effective as an organization. He encouraged exactly this kind of environment among them; not trusting each other, not knowing who everyone is, only sharing important information with him. And this works well for him for micromanaging them, not so much when he just leaves them for their own devices for months on end.

What we see them do in book 7 is a mess and if the Wizarding World's government wasn't a joke the Death Eaters would've failed to take over on their own and Voldemort wouldn't actually want to take over as he shows again and again he doesn't actually care for ruling.

Basically, the Death Eaters are dangerous because you have a group of bloodthirsty violent people with a superiority complex and nuclear weapons (wands). That's terrifying. Not because they are competent or effective in battle or government or anything, but because someone who isn't the brightest and has no self-control is not a person you want threatening your life.

(Obviously, some Death Eaters as individuals aren't like that. Snape is incredibly competent, the Malfoys aren't particularly bloodthirsty, etc, I'm talking about the average nameless/name-dropped Death Eater)

#harry potter #hp #asks #cherryberrytree #hollowedtheory #hp meta #death eaters #harry potter meta #voldemort #lord voldemort #first wizarding war #second wizarding war

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mysticmellowlove · 7 months

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Can we have general sub yan wedding hcs with a fem reader? She wanted a medium size wedding not to many people where she feels she has to perform but enough people so word will spread

warnings; sub yan, fem reader, male yan, mentions of oral, mostly fluff, some NSFW,

What do you mean a blood rite isn't what you wanted when you said you wanted to join together?

This man has no idea what a wedding is or how to do it

He's a little sad that you wanted something more conventional, I mean why can't he just devote himself to you every night instead?

Is the intricate bondage not enough, do you want a vial of his blood to go around your neck... he can add more carvings of your name into his body in more visible places if you want.

He'll do it though, just tell him what to do and he'll get it done.

Wait... does that mean he'll get to meet your family? He's so excited.

He'd probably go up to your guardians and thank them for raising you.

He's a bit shy so the wedding can't be that big anyway. I mean he also doesn't want to share you with the world as well so...

Instantly falls in love even more when you try on wedding dresses.

He somehow manages to sneak into the changing room with you and insists on eating you out under all that fabric.

Just try to stay too quiet or he might have to slice off everyone's ears!

Only if you want him to though! If not then he can sneak into their houses at night and try to knock their memories from their head with a metal bat!

Despite being the human equivalent to a clingy puppy he does have an absurd amount of money so the wedding is going to be lavish.

He'd much prefer it if it was only your family, his are... unconventional, but if you wanted to invite friends as well go ahead.

He doesn't mind them after all... they know he loves you and only you, he proved as much to some of them... they'll never forget it (that is if they're still friends with you after what he did)

He loves to go cake shopping as well, all of the best bakeries are on his list.

Won't admit that he wanted to eat them all... he has too much of a sweet tooth sometimes.

If you get samples he 100% wants to put the frosting on you and lick it off (he might cum too fast if he did that though.)

Oh well, his body belongs to you anyway so who is he to argue!

Venue is also important to him, somewhere secluded... maybe you two can organise a getaway or something. While everyone's enjoying a local beach you two could just hang out alone!

It sounded so perfect to him that he did it anyway and now your family and friends are going to some tropical island (who don't ask weird questions like why do some of the guests keep looking at him weirdly? Why is there a knife in his underwear section... why does he have so much sex toys?)

He wouldn't be a fan of distant relatives or extended family coming along though. Close family only please!

He gets pouty when they want to come along to the planning, he only really wants your guardian's input. He has to please his inlaws!

Hen parties are his worst nightmare but you said that you weren't interested in something as showy as that so he's happy that you settled for a drinks night with your friends at their house.

The day goes off without a hitch, delicious food and good company make for a happy bride. And being by your side (eternally by law) makes for a happy husband!

Aren't the newlyweds so cute?

What was that flash of metal under his suit though...? Surely not a collar right... right?!

#love for anon #sub male #ask #sub yandere #yandere male #fem reader #headcannons

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glassartpeasants · 8 months

Text

Killer angst drabble cause why not

gn!reader

~~~

You knew how much Kid meant to him. It was obvious from the start of the relationship. Anywhere Kid went, Killer was right behind him. They were best friends since childhood so who were you to try and split them apart? But that didn't mean that it didn't hurt.

There's been countless times where Killer has ditched you for Kid. He wouldn't even notify you that he wouldn't show up, he'd just stand you up. You tried to explain to Killer that it hurt your feelings and if he could at least let you know that he wouldn't show up. It lead to a huge fight. Words were said, tears were shed and it ended up with you two breaking up for a week or two.

You tried to ignore the heartbreak cause you didn't want to make the crew uncomfortable. Hell you even talked to some people about leaving the Kid Pirates. After all, Killer was the reason you joined. So now that you two weren't a thing anymore, there was no reason to be on the Victoria Punk. The tension was too thick for you.

Yet the moment you had gotten ready to pack your bags, Killer approached you. He promised he'd do better and that you did mean something to him. You believed him the first two months but then he slowly started going back to how it was. Which left you to where you are now, watching the stars with your bag in you lap as you sit on the railing.

"The city lights look inviting doesn't it? It's a pretty city and island. Maybe I can stay here until a ship shows up to take me home." Your heart burned at the thought of never hearing Killer's voice again. Even if you didn't want to admit it, a small part of you had been ready to leave since the huge fight. Knowing you'd always be in second, third, and fourth place for Killer. You'd never be his first priority, no matter what happens.

"Not even a competition, and you still won Eustass Kid." Whispering to yourself, your aware of the tears slowly falling down your face. A sad little laugh leaves your lips as you wipe the tears away.

"Your crying." Jumping from the sudden noise, you snap you head around and see your soon to be ex.

"Yeah. I guess I am." A seconds silence fell over the two if you.

"What's wrong?"

"Just settling on my final decision." Even without seeing his face, you knew he was puzzled.

"Which is?" Taking a deep breath, you respond.

"That I'm breaking up with you." Killer’s body tensed at your words. The glassy look in your eyes had him realizing that this wasn't a joke or prank.

"I'm sorry Killer, I knew that Kid was super important to you when we got together and I thought I could handle you spending almost all your time with Kid. Unfortunately I've realized that I cant." Your lips tremble as you try to gently smile.

"I don't want you to lose a friendship you've had since childhood just cause of me." You feel the Victoria Punk start to move away from the island.

"S-Shit (Y/N) I'm sorry. I know I've been ditching you and that I promised that I stopped and you have every right to be mad-"

"I'm not mad. At least not anymore."

"But you should be! You should be mad! I made you a promise and I broke it after saying I'd change. Why aren't you yelling at me?! Why aren't you mad that I lied to you?!"

"Because I love you." Killer could feel his heart beating fast as the weight of his actions finally hit him. He tried to speak yet nothing came out.

"And that's why I have to go. Life is about living and learning. And we simply learned that we weren't meant to be. But that's okay, you'll finally someone who works out better for you." You start to put on your bag to get ready to jump off the ship and onto the dock the Victoria Punk was moving away from. Killer grabs your hand and pulls himself closer to you.

"I don't want someone else, I want you. You and only you. Give me another chance please (Y/N)." Facing Killer and his mask, you press a kiss to where his lips would be. Tears flow down your face knowing that's the last kiss you'd ever give him.

"I better see your name in the newspaper often." Slipping tour hand away from his quickly, you whisper one last thing before jumping on the very last edge of the dock.

"Goodbye Massacre Soilder Killer. I love you." You land on the dock and watch the Victoria Punk sail past the dock. And you watch with a heavy heart as Killer starts running to the end of the ship to catch you while screaming to stop the ship.

He looked at you and screamed your name as he sailed farther and farther away, watching you wave him goodbye with tears in your eyes.

#one piece x reader #massacre soldier killer x reader #killer x reader

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dreamofbecoming · 1 year

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yeah alright this got away from me. posting in pieces, part one is just stobin, no shippy stuff. steddie and rockie to follow. i'll drop it on ao3 once all 3 parts are done

now on ao3!

platonic stobin

rating: t

wc: 3.5k

---

Robin stopped being surprised by Steve Harrington showing up at her bedroom window months ago. Jesus, there's a sentence her 16 year old self wouldn't fucking believe for a second. The Hair, climbing up the trellis her dad built for the roses her mom planted and then forgot about three months later? Yeah right, as if. But it turns out alternate dimensions and sci-fi movie monsters and Russian conspiracies in Bumfuck, Nowhere, USA are all real, so how surprising really is The King himself, collapsing through her window with all the grace of a baby giraffe, out of breath like he- holy shit, did he fucking run here?

"Dingus, did you run here? What the hell?"

"Had to- hang on, Jesus. Holy shit." He bends over, hands on his knees, panting like he just ran a marathon. Which, she guesses, he almost did.

"You have a car, you lunatic, what could possibly be so important?"

"Didn't think about it. Had to get here."

"Is someone dead?!" Oh fuck, Is the Upside Down back? Oh shit, oh no, it can't be back, right? Superhero girl closed the gates! Right?! Oh god, oh no, oh fuck, it's back, the Russians are back, they realized they couldn't let her live after what she's seen, her parents will never even know what happened to her, and they'll kill Dingus too, and dorky little Henderson, and that menace Erica, oh god, they're gonna die, and Hopper's gone and superhero girl is far away and she doesn't have superpowers anymore anyway, which is frankly bogus because what the hell, Robin never even got to hang out with a real live magic person before, which, ok, that's a selfish thought, but that's ok, we can think selfish thoughts and then set them aside and not act on them, thoughts are not actions, thoughts happen all the time without our consent, they don't determine our character-

"Bobs, you're spiraling. Nothing bad happened, I just realized something and I freaked out and I had to talk to you right away. Forgot to call. Sorry, I should have called. Ran straight out of the house. I don't even think my shoes match, what the fuck?"

She's gonna kill him, she really is.

She loves him so much.

"Jesus, you're insane. Sit, you absolute dweeb. I'm getting you some water, when I get back you can tell me what the hell is going on."

He's sitting on her bed when she gets back upstairs, staring at something in his hands. Christ, his hands are shaking. What the fuck, Dingus?

He takes the water and downs it in one go- ugh, sports guys- then flops onto his back and covers his eyes with a miserable groan.

"I know we've got the whole twin telepathy thing going on, bubba, but I'm gonna need at least a little bit to work with here. Give me something. Is it your parents? The kids? Uh, what was her name? From Thursday? Janice?"

"Janine, and no. Ugh. Here." The arm not covering his eyes flops out towards her, holding- ah. A zine. He had promised to drive up to Indy last weekend to the secret bookshop she told him about and get her some new ones, even though she couldn't go with him because her cousin Randy got caught cheating on his fiancée and her parents made her come with the rest of the family to help him move. Fucking Randy. Maybe he should make better choices, so the rest of them wouldn't have to clean up his messes. Jerk.

Anyway.

"Marked the page." Which, yep, there's a purple paper clip stuck to a page near the middle, because Steve knows how much she hates people who dogear books, even books that aren't really books at all, so he's been training himself out of it, because he's sort of the best. Again, 16 year old Robin would have her committed for thinking that, but here we are.

The pamphlet isn't one of the periodicals she sent him for, so he must have picked it up on his own. It looks handmade, just some folded sheets that look like they came out of a typewriter, bound with the kind of twine you can buy at the hardware store. It's called Awakenings. The page he's marked looks like a personal essay, no title, no real signature, just a pair of initials at the end of the page and a half of writing. She starts reading, trying to figure out what the hell spooked Steve so bad.

"I've always been normal. I've always had crushes on men, just like the other girls. There was never a feeling of "I'm different," or "Oh, this is wrong." There was never anything to think very hard about. I'd giggle and blush when the boys looked over at us on the playground, same as everyone else. Later on when I was older I looked at my poster of Harrison Ford, shirtless and hairy and sweating, and I touched myself, and it felt good, just like it was supposed to. I didn't mind thinking of my future husband, and our future kids, and the pretty house with the pretty garden we'd have, just like my parents have, just like they wanted for me. I was normal. Everything was fine.

I thought everything about me was normal. So I didn't understand why the other girls at sleepover parties would giggle and stop and say "Ew, gross!" when we practiced kissing. It felt nice! I wanted to keep going! But it seemed like no one else did. I didn't understand why none of them talked about getting butterflies in their stomach when Laura, who was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, transferred in our senior year, why they seemed so angry at her. Those butterflies were what jealousy felt like, right? So why did the other girls seem to feel so different?

I made my first lesbian friend in college, on the very first day, right across the hall in my dorm. We sat next to each other at Orientation and I thought I'd never have another best friend that wonderful in my whole life, so I'd hold on to her with everything I had. She came out to me the night before Christmas break, hiding under the blankets in my dorm room with the twinkling lights glowing. She was so scared. I held her and told her I loved her no matter what, and she seemed so glad, to have someone to talk to.

When she talked about falling in love with girls, I was so confused. The way she described it sounded like what it felt like to have girlfriends, I was sure. I felt that all the time. I asked her if she was sure she was gay, and she looked so shocked and angry and hurt, and I didn't know how to fix it, so I tried to explain. That what she felt couldn't be liking girls, because I felt that too, and I was normal. I liked boys, so I couldn't be gay. I couldn't be.

I'm glad it was her I said all that to. If someone else had told me about being bisexual, I think I would have hated them. I would have cried, and screamed, and said horrible things. Because I wasn't gay, I was normal, and it was so scary to think that might be a lie. Thank God it was her, my best friend in the world, who I never want to lose. Thank God I listened.

Because I'm not normal. I'm queer. I like men, and I like women. I can love them both the same, but it doesn't matter anymore, because I love her. I love her, and she loves me, and I don't need to be normal anymore."

Robin's face feels wet, which probably means she's crying. She cries a lot, reading these sorts of stories, in the zines she has to keep hidden under her bed, or, these days, at Steve's house. It's never going to be her, she knows. Not here in Hawkins, but it still makes something ache deep inside her, like pressing on a bruise, but in a good way, seeing love happen to other people. People like her. Seeing that it can.

"So?"

Oh shit. Right, Dingus. They're about him right now. Something about this essay in particular freaked him out.

"Uh. It's. A nice essay? I'm glad things worked out for them?"

Stevie lets out a pathetic whine, sort of like back at Scoops when he earned a particularly bad tally on the You Suck board. "Robbiiiiiiieeeee!"

"I'm sorry! I think I'm missing something, what's wrong with this essay? I don't get it, bubba, I'm sorry. I need some context." She does feel bad. Usually she can pluck whatever's bothering him right out of his brain and into the light, where it almost never looks as bad, but she's at a loss right now.

He's got both hands over his face again, and his response is so muffled she can't make out a word.

"Try again in human sounds, please."

"Ugh! I thought everyone felt like that!"

Huh? "Felt like...what, exactly?"

"Like that!" He flails wildly at the pamphlet in her hands. He's sitting up now, hair all askew from tugging at it, and there's a vaguely worrying crazed look in his eye, like right before he tackled that guard. "Like kissing boys and girls both feel nice, and like seeing a handsome guy and feeling jealous of him makes my stomach flutter, and like having friends feels the same as having crushes! I thought that was just how everyone felt all the time!"

Oh.

Oh no.

Poor Dingus! No wonder he panicked and ran here like a crazy person!

"Stevie, can I hug you? Please?" She's not much for physical touch most of the time, but Steve is, and also she's found in the last few months that she doesn't mind so much when it's him. She sort of understands why other people like hugs so much, if they always feel like hugging Steve feels for her. And she really thinks he needs to be hugged, right now.

He nods miserably. She drapes her arms around his shoulders and holds on as tight as she can, hauling him sideways until he's practically laying down on her. He clutches her back and buries his face in her shoulder. She can feel her neck getting wet with tears, a sensation that would normally make her want to claw off her own skin, but this isn't about her. Dingus needs her.

"It's ok, bubba. I'm so sorry. I know how scary this is. When I first figured out I had a crush on Linda Sanderson I cried so hard I threw up, you know? I get it. It's gonna be ok, I promise. We'll make it ok. We faced down evil Russians and giant meat monsters, what's a little sexuality crisis, huh? We got this! We're the goddamn Wonder Twins!"

He snorts at that, which she's pretty sure leaves snot on her neck, which. Ew. Still. Problems for Later Robin.

"We are not, Will and El are the Wonder Twins."

"Uh, nope, no chance, I barely even met them so therefore I am vetoing their application. Sorry kiddos, better luck next time! Find your own nickname, losers!"

Steve sits back, laughing, and she preens a little at being able to bring him back from the brink so easily. She loves him so much she feels like she's glowing with it, sometimes. It almost makes her wish she was straight, because what girl is she ever going to find who loves her this much? But only almost, because. Well. Girls, amiright? Phew.

"So what now, Stevie? You wanna say it out loud? That helps, sometimes. You wanna not say it out loud? You wanna go to a gay bar and find you a boy? You wanna never think about it again? It's totally your call."

"Say it out loud, huh?"

"Hm. It took me like a month, and then the first time I could only say it sitting in the back of my closet with the bedroom door locked and the closet door closed, and I could only whisper it. Just "I'm a lesbian," to myself, like the world's most ironic little goblin. And I had to throw up again after. But it did feel good, once I rinsed my mouth out, anyway. Cleansing, you know? And it gets easier every time." Steve's eyebrows are raised and he's chuckling again, so that's a win. She's not lying, but it is sort of funny, she supposes. In hindsight, anyway.

"Ok. Ok, I can do that. I think. Yeah, I can do that."

She's so proud of him. He's the bravest person she's ever met, she thinks. "You wanna get in the closet?"

"Isn't the whole point to come out of the closet, Robs?" He's smirking at her. Bastard. She whacks him in the shoulder on principle. He may be having a crisis, but he's still a jackass. Her favorite jackass in the whole world, but still.

"Har har, you're a regular Bob Hope. Alright then, bigshot, let's hear it."

A little of that fear creeps back onto his face, and she wishes she could wipe it off, but that's not how this works. They can't make the scary things less scary. He couldn't make the Russians less terrifying, but he could hold her hand and make her laugh and carry some of that fear with her. She can do that for him now, too.

She grabs his hand, and he clutches back tightly. He takes a deep breath.

"I'm...fuck. Ok. Ok, I can do this. I'm...bisexual." The air leaves him in a big whoosh, and he laughs a little. "Yeah, ok, fuck. I'm bisexual. Holy shit, Robbie, I'm bisexual!"

"Hell yeah you are!" She's grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. She's so fucking proud of him.

He's laughing again, a little hysterically, and he hugs her tight again, and she holds him back just as close and thinks oh, he's like me. I'm not alone. I have Steve, and he's like me, and he's mine forever and ever.

When they separate, she looks at him seriously.

"So do you, like, want this to be a thing? Because we can totally make it a thing, and like, get me a fake ID and go to a gay bar and do all kinds of wild shit if you want, but we don't have to, you know? If you need to just, like. Digest this, for a while. It's totally up to you, I just know it took me a while to feel ok with it, and I have no idea if it's different for you but I just want to be what you need, you know? You've been so good with me, and I've never had a queer friend before, so I don't know how, but I want to be just as good to you. You're my Dingus and I love you and I don't know how much of a gay guru I can be on account of, you know, I've never met any gay people besides me and the pretty lady at the bookstore but I couldn't even get real human words to come out of my mouth when I tried to talk to her so I don't think that counts, you know? But I still wanna help! Let me help!"

"Bobbie! Bobbie breathe, you're gonna pass out. I don't think I need a gay guru, I just need a gay best friend, and I have that, so I promise I'm good, ok? Promise. Also I love you too.”

She takes a deep breath, following his lead the way they worked out in the horrible days after Starcourt, when she couldn't sleep without him next to her, warm and alive and breathing, and even then she would wake up in the night with her breath coming short and her vision tunneling and Steve would hold her hand against his chest and breathe slowly, in and out, until she could follow him, and the world wasn't so terrible and scary and loud anymore.

She still thinks about that awful hour underground, thinking she was strapped to the corpse of a boy she never let become her friend, but Steve is always there now when she needs him, and he never complains when she grabs his wrist or puts her head on his chest to make absolutely sure that big, stupid heart is still beating.

When she's breathing normally again, he drops their joined hands down between them, toying idly with the chain linking her ring to her bracelet. "I think...I think I'm glad I said it, and I'm glad we talked about it, but can we maybe just...put it away, for a while? Like it's not...ugh. I guess this is kind of shitty to say, so like, hit me if you want, I guess, but I kind of don't think it matters right now?"

"No no, that makes perfect sense! Like, you still like girls, right?" He nods. "And you don't like. Have a crush on any boys right now. Or do you? Oh man if you do you have to tell me though, it's platonic soulmate law. It's in the bylaws, Steve, don't make me soulmate fine you!"

He laughs and shoves her face away. "Jesus, Rob, no! I don't have a crush on any guys, who would I even crush on in this town? We're not exactly swimming in eligible bachelors. I don't have a crush on anybody at all, I'd tell you, I swear. I know the rules!"

"Oh phew, good. You have to tell me when you do, though, I'm way excited to get you back for making fun of Tammy."

"It was the God's honest truth, Bobbie! She sings like a muppet!"

"Oh my god, shut up, Dingus! Ugh! As I was saying, you super duper have to tell me when you do, but for now, I think maybe you don't have to think about it really at all if you don't want. I mean, practically speaking, it's not really relevant to your everyday life, so we can totally revisit when that changes, but you don't have to like. Join a pride parade tomorrow, you know? You are you who are no matter what. You don't have to prove anything to anyone, especially not to me, not ever."

He leans his head on her shoulder, and she scritches her nails through his hair. It really has no right being as soft as it is, with the amount of hairspray he uses. It's frankly rude, is what it is.

"Thanks, Bobs. I think I'm just gonna put it away for now. It just...another thing to know about me, you know? Like, I'm bad at fighting people but good at fighting monsters, all my best friends are kids except you, I'm bi but it doesn't matter because there aren't any boys to date in Hawkins anyway. Plus my dad would kill me if he found out. Like actually kill me, not "oh geez I missed curfew, my dad's gonna kill me" type kill me, like I think he'd actually try and beat me to death. So there's really no reason to talk about it right now, you know?"

There's a pit of ice in her stomach, and she tightens her arm around him like she can keep him safe just by holding on tight enough. She hates how casually he said that, just like she hates how casually he always talks about how his parents treat him, like he honestly believes it's normal. "Jesus, Dingus. You know you can come here if you need, right? My parents love you, they already think we're getting married. They'd make you sleep in the guest room, but I could sneak you in here easy."

He snorts again. "We're totally gonna end up married for tax reasons anyway, we're never beating the rumors." That makes her snort, too. He's not wrong, though. She isn't going to be allowed to have a wife anytime soon, and if she has to choose someone to be her next of kin, it's always gonna be him. They're planning to move in together when she goes to school next year anyway. No one is ever gonna believe them that they aren't dating, but that's...fine. Honestly, there are worse things. Better to have Steve by her side than not, and if no one else understands them, well, they understand each other, don't they? That's more than enough.

"Yeah, I know I can come here if I need, Robs. It's fine mostly, I swear. They're not home until Christmas anyway."

He takes another deep breath, like he's settling himself. "I'm just glad we talked about it. I feel better now."

She cards her fingers through his hair again, basking in the feeling of her favorite person so close, and so content. "I'm glad, Dingus."

They're alive, and they're together, and they're queer, and neither of them is ever going to have to be alone again.

"Hang on, did you say you've kissed girls and boys?!"

part 2 part 3

#stranger things #platonic stobin #steve harrington & robin buckley #steve harrington #robin buckley #bisexual steve harrington #steve's bi awakening #my writing #robin calls steve bubba and steve calls her bobbie and i will die on both those hills #you can pry their weird nicknames from my cold dead hands #autistic robin buckley #it’s subtle but it’s there and it’s important to me #also her parents are therapists i’m sure of it

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roturo · 1 year

Text

MOONLIGHT SUNRISE

summary: You never thought your modeling career wouldn't turn the way it did, but, maybe this new world was a new opportunity to also find love?

warnings: smut, bdsm (mentions of it, but it's not implied yet.), fingering, nipple play, edging, orgasm denial, straddling, modeling au, fashionista?!gojo satoru, model!reader.

IMPORTANT A/N AT THE END.

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

“I know you are awake! Open the door! It's good news!” Your best-friend, and roommate kept calling your name through the door, yesterday wasn't a great night. You failed at the mission to be part of some runaways, because 'you don't fit the concept' so what else you could expect? How could you achieve your modeling career?

You opened the door, and your best-friend sprinted towards you, pushing you so you could lay again on bed. “You’ve some job to do tonight.” She told you, grabbing her phone from her pocket, “Oh my god, it's not my time to do the laundry this week- you know-“

“You´re going to a runaway! I got you the job!”

“what??“

And she was right. You got the job! But this didn't seem like a normal runaway at all. You were waiting for the make-up artist to arrive while everyone had already changed into some 'weird' clothes, mostly black and silver, which, you suppose that's the theme... but... some of them, had quite different accessories.

Handcuffs... nipple clamps, harness.... were those pet collars?... gags...

“Oh! You're the newbie! A friend of mine talked me about you.” A man got closer to you, he called your name and you simple nodded. ¨Great! Here, take your clothes, this are some puffy handcuffs, well, because you're new, and we don’t want to hurt those pretty wrists. You can ask someone else to help you put them on, then… we have a black basic satin dress, pretty cute! I know, and a satin matching blindfold. So now go! Fiu! Show me what you got butterfly!¨

W....what? Everything happened in a flash, everything is happening in a flash. He pushed you into what you suppose it's a changing room...

You changed into your new clothes... no shoes... they were doing your makeup, nothing too much, you could see it was pretty natural. ¨Oh dear, you're the new one right? Want me to help you with those?¨ The makeup artist signaled at the shiny silver handcuff, with some puffy black bom-boms, you shyly nodded.

Without you telling them, they also got the blindfold on your head, how were you supposed to see? Man, I don't even know, and they were already telling you to do a line.

They were about 2 people in front of you, seeing by the small space between your blindfold and nose, only seeing the floor and feet. You felt someone slightly pushing you to start walking.

You were praying to god to not let you fall this time, one two three, one two three, was all in your head, toe heel, toe heel, you're doing it great!

Not realizing some blur orbs followed you along.

You thought this was over? Well, too bad for you, because now it's exhibition time so buyers can see what they are buying to play with! Isn't this amazing?

You couldn't see anything, trying your best to stay still, but you swear some woman was examining even the pores of your face. “I've never seen you here? Are you new here?”

She got closer to you, feeling her breathing on your face, she grabbed your hair, twirling it around her finger. “Aren't you cute?” She pulled her finger with your hair, a small whine leaving you. “Get on your knees.”

Her voice sounded demanding, it's like something controlled you. You got one knee down first and then the other. She left an astonished laugh, like she couldn't believe what she saw... not like you can.

“You don't even know nothing about BDSM! What are you doing here?”

You could hear her saying some bad remarks of your posture and how you 'aren't well trained' hearing some giggles at the distant.

She mildly slapped you, causing you to finally break-down, some tears spilling out of your eyes, thanks to the embarrassment, you were scared, mostly because you don't know what you got into.

When you felt you were about to get another hit, another voice came into space.

“Why don't you respect the models who are offering you the little toys you will use for your couple? Or are you jealous they look better on her than in you?” Her hand was tightly trapped by the other persons hand. “You better leave, because security already knows what you did, and they'll get you.”

You heard a huff from the lady, you flinched at the feeling of someone else untying your blindfold to be met with some beautiful blue crystal eyes, some white hair, and a black suit. He might be the handsomest man you ever seemed in your life. He caressed your cheek, tilting your head to the side, searching for any bruises. Then he smiled with no teeth. “Get up darling, it's okay.”

You haven't realized the big height difference between you two until you were completely up.

“Thank you...?”

“Satoru darling, call me Satoru.”

“I can’t fucking believe you!” Your best friend laughed when you told her about what happened, if she’s isn’t a bitch….

“I don’t know how you can laugh at what YOU did.”

“If i’m being honest with you, I knew it was a bdsm runaway, been into that shit for some years now, but I didn’t know the GOJO SATORU was going to be there and save your ass! You don’t know how lucky you are”

“What are you talking about? They humiliated me there! At least they had to pay me as good as they did, and thankfully they also gave me a bonus for the ‘misunderstanding’ And I couldn’t care less about Gojo Satoru, I don’t even know who he is.”

Your friend gave you the same bitchy face as the old lady from the exhibition… asshole. “What do you mean you don’t know Gojo Satoru? He’s like one of the best fashionista’s not only in the BDSM style but, in Europe he’s an icon!”

“So…?” You asked, looking for your phone somewhere in the sheets of your bed.

“So? He’s like your big chance for your modeling career! The next Bella Hadid!” She made a gesture with her hands like a rainbow, while making a serious face trying to imitate a model.

When you found your phone, the first thing you saw in your lock screen was a new text-message from an unknown number, which you showed to your friend and signaled her to open it.

“No fucking way.” Your best friend took your phone out of your hands, she couldn’t believe it.

And no fucking way, indeed. The Gojo Satoru was offering you to work for him, not only as model but as… his sub?

What?…

As you entered his house, because, obviously your friend ‘wouldn’t let you loose a chance like this’, she taught you a little bit of what’s BDSM and how it’s executed beforehand. Something new for you, but you couldn’t criticize people for their sexual preferences when you haven’t even tried it yet.

You sat at an incredible large table on Satoru’s house, (more like a mansion for you), waiting for him. His, what you suppose, assistant, told you to wait there and brought you a glass of water. As you were looking around, Satoru sat next to you.

“It’s a pretty house, isn’t it?” You looked at his beautiful blue eyes, loosing yourself in them, even though you could barely see them with those black round little glasses he was using.

Both of your introduced to the other, more formally, pulling a small chat between the both of you to know each other. Where you work, how old are you, likes and dislikes, you learned he used to be a modeling teacher before he started his formal career as a fashionista, he was also a model, he achieved a lot of things even when he’s really young. He’s really charismatic and funny, made you feel like you known him for your whole life.

But then… He suddenly pulled a folder from down the table and put in front of you.

“You can found the contract for your modeling career, we give you a paycheck every month about 30k, depends on what you do, obviously, if you accept being my sub, that’s the price, if you want to only be a model it would be reduced to 15k. You can also found a paper where you’ll give your consent to what kinks, toys, you would like to use. Depending of how you adapt you can quit or add one. But for now, it’s for the first 3 months, then you could change it.”

…

….

What the fuck. Everything was going great, what happened to hello? How are you? this changed really, really quickly.

Satoru laughed at your innocence, you couldn’t believe what was happening that you didn’t even realized you said it out loud.

“Of course, you don’t have to sign the sub contract now, we can try some more vainilla things, or just model.”

“Vainilla?” You tilted your face, looking at him, you couldn’t deny it, he’s a nice, very nice, looking guy, broad shoulders, long and strong legs, same as the arms, tall, and a pretty smile. You felt really flustered when he defended you from that lady the other day.

“Yeah, vainilla, normal sex, just fuck you and that. Or…are you a virgin?” You felt the blood rushing to your face, how could he talk about this things so normally?

“I had sex… one-two times….” You said, in a shy voice which was barely loud enough to hear.

He chuckled, his hand sliding to grab yours. “Wanna have a third time?”

“Huh?” Did you heard that right? Is he asking you to have sex?

“Do you want me to fuck you so you can see if you feel comfortable?” This time he said it slower, trying to see if your confused face would change into something else so he can know if you understood him.

“H-here?…”

“If you want to fuck here, then I guess that’s okay! Tables can be quite useful” He stood up from his seat, unbuttoning his jacket.

“Wait, wait wait! No!” He took off his jacket, and he laughed. “I’m not undressing myself sweetheart, I can tell how you’re feeling about all this, is something new to you, I understand it.”

“Uh…” You really wanted to try this, it’s something new, and it sparked some curiosity in you.

“We can try kissing?”

“Kissing?” He seemed confused, he thought he would need you known you for some time more, so you could get familiar with him, but as it seemed, you were interested in this new world of BDSM.

“If you’re comfortable about that, it’s good for me, maybe later I can take you for a coffee or tea, depending what you like.” He gave you a small smile with a wink, sitting again.

Without giving a second thought, you stood up from your seat, taking shy steps until you were in front of him. Something about him felt so familiar, you couldn’t understand what made you feel comfortable in his presence, it’s like this was something you’ve done plenty of time. You slowly sat on his lap, grabbing your arms around his neck, his hand sliding around your waist. And like that, you gave him a small peck on his lips. His face was the same as you, shocked, he wouldn’t think you would have the courage to this.

You could see a small shade of pink on his cheeks and ears, making you giggle and give him another peck. This was fun. His hand grabbed your waist in a more possessive way, it’s like it was meant to be there.

His other hand, grabbed you by the back of your head and pulled you into a kiss.

You didn’t meant to rush it, but his lips on yours felt so good that your body started unconsciously moving back and forth, you heard a small groan coming out of him and the hand that was on your head slid down to grab you by the waist too, helping you straddle him.

A small whine left your mouth when the button of his jeans touched your clothed pussy, this feeling was so hard to explain, it just felt so right.

His lips felt just as soft and heavenly as your imagination had remembered, sweet and addicting just like him.

With a sigh, you slipped your hand into his hair, tugging a bit at the soft tendrils at the back of his head.

You nearly shivered at the grunt he let out in response to the action, bucking his hips up to meet yours making you let out a hum of approval into his mouth.

Rolling your hips down onto him in response, your breath caught in your throat as he gripped your hips to guide your movements into his bulge, thrusting up off the bed to meet you as you both let out noises of satisfaction into each other’s mouths.

“How slow do you want to take this?” He asked, almost sounding pained as he panted up at you. The look in his eyes wasn’t one you were familiar with on him; wild and nearly starved.

“I… I’ve just never…”

“It’s okay darling, i’ll help you through it.”

He gets you to lay down on the table, not completely, but comfortable enough. Satoru licks and pecks every part of your body. With your arms wrapped around his neck. He kisses you slowly from your forehead, nose, lips, shoulders, collarbone , and breasts . He stopped for a while, just about your nipple. He glances up at you for a minute , he can see you were showing your vulnerable and desperate body. It wasn’t your intention, but your position and expression showed it all.

A small smirk forms on his lips before he gets under your shirt and starts to slowly suck and lick on your nipple, from time to time. The sensation makes you whimper, but he was going painfully slow with everything. You want him inside of you already and to fuck you hard.

One of his hands slid through your body until your jeans. Unbuttoning them, he inserted his hand through your panties, his fingertips brushed through your folds, coating them in your juices and you whined when you felt him rub slowly at your clit. “how long have you been like this.” his voice was so calm, a contrast to how shaky your breath was.

“When I… I started kissing you.” You gasped and he started applying more pressure to your clit.

“Poor baby.” he cooed at you. “You must be so needy.” his fingers teased at your entrance and you bucked your hips towards his hand, causing him to chuckle.

He eased one of his fingers inside you and a soft moan left your lips, your hips moving to ride his finger, his eyes intensely staring at you. “more.” you whined quietly.

“More?” he smirked and inserted another finger, feeling how your walls clenched around his digits, his hand moving to match the movements of your hips, thrusting his finger in and out of your pussy and you could ear the wet sounds it did.

Your whimpers and moans started getting louder, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder over the fabric of his white shirt and he groaned at the feeling, letting his head fall back into your neck, staring at you with hooded eyes as you fucked yourself on his fingers. not only his fingers felt amazing but he also looked so good in front of you and just looking at him fingering you could send you over the edge. His thumb came up to rub at your clit and your teeth sinked into your bottom lip, the feeling becoming too intense.

His fingers thrusted inside of you faster and deeper, your juices running down his hand as his thumb applied even more pressure on your clit and you were so overwhelmed that you couldn’t even kiss him properly anymore, too focused on how good his fingers felt inside you.

“Cum on my fingers, baby.” He broke the kiss for a short second, encouraging you, and then went back to devouring your mouth. your fingers intertwined with the locks of his hair, pulling slightly at it causing him to groan and the feeling became too much to hold it in anymore, he suddenly stopped. A familiar ring coming through your phone. He chuckled at your face. Dry tears covered your face, hickeys all around your neck, and you were slowly moving your hips to gain the friction back.

You left a small whine at the loss of his fingers inside of you, he inserted them on his mouth, moaning at the taste. He then grabbed your phone and gave it to you.

“That’s only a preview of what you could get if you accept my offer” And with that, he just winked and left.

A/N: This was really rushed tbh, i thought of turning this into a series, but recently i've been feeling pretty bad with my english, mostly because i think i'm not good enough at writing, or expressing the story the way i would've wanted to be. I have plently of cool ideas, but i can't do them since i feel like they won't be good enough. And that's how i've been feeling about my writings recently, i think they're REALLY bad. So i might take a break, idk, maybe keep trying, or just quit. I'm still thinking about it. So i hope you enjoyed this one :)

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