#Epiphany n stuff

[penguin--person]

its crazyyy like. it really Does get better !! Wow !!! life is beautiful

[whenthegoldrays]

I don’t know what it is about the Jane Austen adaptations I’ve seen recently, but they just have so much trouble sticking the landing.

[strawbebyjam]

venting again in tags im sorry moots 😭 not doin so hawt

[slaybestieslay946]

Oh me gosh can you please do a Luke Castellan x reader fic where he’s just so head over heels for her but she’s so clueless and everyone keeps trying to get her to notice but she won’t and like they’re bests friends🤗🤗

tysm for ur request! if you don't mind I tweaked it a bit so its annabeth and percy trying to set up Luke and reader! hope you enjoy!

KISS THE GIRL

word count: 2000

pairing: Luke Castellan x poseidon!reader

warnings: none!

a/n: Even though this is a daughter of poseidon fic, its not part of my future au! for Luke.

MASTERLIST

Percy and Annabeth were standing at the edge of the amphitheatre, talking about something mindless when they spotted you and Luke walking towards the entrance, seeming deeping engaged in conversation. 

Annabeth watched as you laughed at something Luke said and a light blush tinged his cheeks, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Could he get any more obvious?

“Oi, Perce,” She whispered, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” She asked, nudging him to look in the direction of the pair of you. 

“Yeah, I see my sister with Luke, what about it-” It appeared the realisation finally struck him, “Oh my god, are they-?” 

“I don’t know. He’s definitely into her, I know that.” Annabeth mused, inspecting the pair as they grabbed two wooden swords and began sparring together, laughing as they repeatedly dodged and side-stepped the other. 

“He told you that?” Percy asked, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. 

“Well, no. But it’s pretty obvious, don’t you think?” 

Annabeth then gasped in realisation, startling Percy slightly before he realised it was just another one of her epiphanies. 

“We should get them together!” 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Isn’t that something you leave up to Aphrodite kids?” Percy asked hesitantly. 

“Battle strategy and romantic strategy aren’t all that different.” She shrugged, before dragging him off to draw up new ‘romantic’ battle plans with her. 

STAGE 1: CONFRONT LUKE

Annabeth’s strategy wasn’t all that complicated, and she was pretty certain the most difficult part would be getting Luke to admit his feelings. But, as it turns out, he cracked pretty quickly. 

“Alright, you got me.” He sighed, holding his hands up in surrender, “I do like her, but can you blame me? I mean, she’s so smart, and beautiful, and kind, and-”

“That’s enough lover boy. Cool it.” Percy said, cutting him off with a groan. As much as he had given Annabeth his blessing to go along with this crazy plan, he still didn’t want to hear Luke gushing about how hot his sister is. 

“Sorry man.” Luke chuckled awkwardly, before the pair of boys turned back to Annabeth to lead the conversation. 

“So, now that you’ve admitted it, we need to start brainstorming how we’re gonna get you guys together.” She said, clapping her hands together and producing a roll of paper, with a long list of ideas that she promptly began to read out. 

The list ranged from pretty normal things like ‘take her out on a picnic’ to insane stuff like ‘bring her a monster's head as a gift’. Luke wasn’t so sure you would be a fan of that one, but he had to admit all the other items were pretty good ideas. 

“So what do you suggest, Annie? Work our way down the list?” Luke asked, and his little sister nodded, before outlining which ones she thought would be best. 

“We should start small, you don’t wanna freak her out,” She consulted the list again, thinking to herself, “Ah, here we go, ‘Give her a compliment’.” 

“Ok, I think I can do that.” Luke grinned, his head immediately flooded with things that he loved about you. 

“Just don’t make it weird, or I’ll revoke my blessing.” Percy grumbled, his arms crossed as Luke laughed sheepishly again. 

“Will do.”

STAGE 2: START SMALL

The next week mostly consisted of Annabeth and Percy spying on you and Luke at any possible moment. 

The first of his tasks, to give you a compliment seemed to go well. The pair of preteens watched on from their spot behind a tree as the pair of you separated to go to dinner, and Luke complimented your hair. You blushed slightly, and smiled widely, before rushing off to your own table in the dining pavilion. 

Luke quickly whipped around to look at Percy and Annabeth who gave him enthusiastic thumbs ups. 

His next task was to give you a small gift, and he decided that it should take the form of the matching charm bracelets he made with the younger kids. Annabeth and Percy sat with him as he deliberated over specific colours and shapes of bead, until they were nearly sick of his equivocation. 

But, as much as watching him make it was downright annoying, Percy had to admit the way you both wore your charm bracelets everyday afterwards was pretty cute. 

The final task of the week was to bring you flowers, and that whole day Luke could be seen wading through fields of wildflowers looking for the perfect ones to add to his bouquet. This was then snuck onto your nightstand later that night by Percy, who over the course of the week had become very invested in your blossoming relationship, a fact he would deny to the ends of the earth. 

STAGE 3: ESCALATE

“Alright Luke, time to bring out the big guns.” Annabeth announced, before clearing her throat and reading the list of tasks for the week. 

‘Sit at her table during dinner’

‘At least one compliment a day’

‘One instance of arm-around-the-waist contact’

This was the point at which the Hermes boy began to get slightly nervous. The other stuff before could be pretty easily written off as friendly, but sitting at someone's table at dinner? Only couples did that. 

“Are you sure that’s not moving too fast, I mean-”

“Luke Castellan, don’t be so damn pathetic! Grow some balls, before someone else steals your girl!” Annabeth exclaimed, whacking him over the head with the list. 

He nodded, “Yes Ma’am.”

From then on, he was pretty much unwavering in his determination. He sat at your table every mealtime, slinging an arm around your shoulder, or your waist. Anytime you came up with a capture the flag strategy, he’d praise you intelligence, anytime he saw you, he greeted you with a ‘Morning beautiful’ or a ‘Hey sweetheart’. 

Annabeth and Percy were shocked with his sudden progress, but pretty impressed with the way it was going. At this point, the pair of you were practically dating. 

The only minor setback came in the form of your complete and utter cluelessness. 

Percy had decided to test the waters with you, and gently float the idea of you getting together with Luke. 

“You’ve been spending loads of time with Luke at the moment.” He remarked casually as you both walked back to cabin 3. 

“You’ve just noticed I spend time with my best friend? Well done kid.” You laughed, ruffling his curly blonde hair. 

“That’s not what I meant.” He rolled his eyes, ducking out of your grasp. 

“Then what did you mean?” You asked, hands on your hips, a confused expression on your face. 

“I meant like, you guys being ‘involved’.” He shrugged, trying to make it sound as nonchalant as possible while looking out for your every reaction. He was unreasonably invested at this point, but oh well. 

“What?!” You exclaimed, your voice suddenly going higher pitched, “Nah, no chance! Luke would never.” 

Percy had to stop his jaw from dropping to the floor. It would’ve made sense if you denied having feelings for him, but to be so oblivious of how whipped that boy was for you? He thought you were smart. 

“Yeah, sure. I guess so.” He shrugged once again, before swiftly changing the subject. 

STAGE 4: KISS THE GIRL!!

“Guys, we have a problem.” Percy said, bursting in on Luke and Annabeth’s conversation the next morning. 

“What?” The pair asked in sync, concerned expressions on their faces. 

“Y/N is an idiot.” 

“Woah, don’t say that about her-” Luke began, desperate to defend your honour, but was cut off by Annabeth’s harsh glare. 

“What do you mean, Perce?” She asked, her tone level. 

“Luke, man, she has no clue you like her. Like she is convinced it’s impossible.” Percy explained, and Annabeth’s expression also grew confused. 

“Gods, she really is dumb.” She sighed, ignoring Luke’s chiding at insulting you, “We’re gonna have to really turn it up a notch. Luke, it’s time to really bring out the big guns.”

For the next few days, Luke, Annabeth and Percy spent most of their time rushing around preparing for Annabeth’s so-called ‘masterstroke’. 

And then, after much hard work from the trio, it was ready, and Luke was whisking you away from the campfire to the surprise he had prepared for you. 

“Luke, where are we going?!” You laughed as he dragged you along by the wrist, a piece of cloth tied around your head to block your vision. 

“You’ll see.” He chuckled, gently directing you around a tree root as he led you deeper into the forest. 

“I swear, if you’re kidnapping me I am not going to be happy.” You teased that infectious smile he loved so much covering your face. 

“No, no kidnapping tonight.”

You continued to joke around together as he led you towards his destination, until eventually you came to a halt, and he was untying the cloth around your face. 

You gasped in delight as you saw you were by the pier, and in front of you was a picnic blanket set up with all of your favourite food and drink. 

Immediately you grabbed him by the arm and led him to the blanket, thanking him all the way and gushing about how sweet and amazing he was. Meanwhile, Luke was trying not to pass out from the barrage of affection you were giving him. 

The pair of you quickly tucked into the meal, laughing and joking. But all the while, Luke was preparing his confession, and trying not to let his palms get too sweaty. 

Eventually, he decided it was time, and he made his move. 

“Y/N?” 

“Yeah?” You looked up at him with shining eyes, and he had to remind himself to breathe. 

“I’m in-” His love confession was cut off by the sudden boom of fireworks above you both, and he silently cursed himself for forgetting to organise a signal with Annabeth to start them. She really did have bad timing sometimes. 

“Oh my gods! Fireworks!” You exclaimed, nudging Luke to take a closer look, pointing out which ones were your favourites, and clearly any speculation about what Luke was going to say had escaped your mind. 

Eventually the display was over, and you turned to him yet again, gushing about how lucky they were that fireworks were out tonight. He couldn’t help but wonder how someone usually so smart could be so clueless?

“I organised the fireworks, Y/N.” He said, softly, placing his calloused hand over yours. 

“What, really?!” You blinked owlishly at him for a moment before furrowing your brows and asking, “Wait, how come?” 

Luke couldn’t contain his chuckle. 

“Isn’t it obvious by now? I’m in love with you. I’ve been trying to hint at it for weeks, but clearly I wasn’t being obvious enough.”

“What? Why?” You stammered, shock coating your face entirely. 

“Why am I in love with you?” He asked as if it was a stupid question, which to him it was, because he could list a million things that he loved about you. 

“Because you’re beautiful, and smart, and kind, and generous, and every time I see you I can’t help but smile because you're my best friend and I love you more than anything.” He rambled, wiping his slightly clammy palms on his cargos. 

“Now I’d really appreciate it if you’d put me out of my misery and reject me.” He said sheepishly, itching the back of his neck. 

But, of course, the rejection never came. Instead you were rushing forwards to hold his face in your hands and kiss him, slowly and deeply. 

And, about ten metres away, Annabeth and Percy could be seen high-fiving behind a tree, before skipping back to the campfire in glee.

[earlycuntsets]

"MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE

Rediscovering themselves as creative, dangerous and daring

After spending most of 2009 working with producer Brendan O’Brien on a follow-up to their hit 2006 album The Black Parade, the members of My Chemical Romance were hit with an unsettling realization: They didn’t like their new material all that much. They felt bored and stifled. So when a quick session to write a couple of additional songs veered in a more inspiring direction, the band saw its chance to start over.

Re-teaming with Black Parade producer Rob Cavallo, the musicians—singer Gerard Way, bass player Mikey Way and guitarists Ray Toro and Frank Iero—ditched the rules they had established for themselves about their sound and the kind of songs they wrote (for the sessions, drummer John Miceli replaced now-departed member Bob Bryar behind the kit). Unburdened of those constraints, the group soon emerged from Cavallo’s Calabasas, Calif., studio with Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys. Although imagined as a series of pirate-radio broadcasts coming from California in the year 2019, the band’s energetic, hook-filled fourth album is not designed as a strictly conceptual theatrical piece in the way The Black Parade was (witness Days’ straightforwardly rocking first single, “Na Na Na [Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na]”). “It was a long gestation period to get to this record,” says Ray Toro, “but I don’t think it would have worked any other way.” We spoke with Toro about the changes and self-discoveries that finally led to My Chemical Romance’s new music.

Were you comfortable with how elaborate The Black Parade tour was?

I felt like we were doing a stage show or a musical, instead of being a band. We wore these rigid costumes, the show was the same every night. It wasn’t choreographed, but it was timed out to feel like the album. We missed the spontaneity. When you say “rock ’n’ roll band,” you think spontaneous. The Black Parade was very restrictive. We had stripped out all the best parts of the band, even the creativity, and we didn’t get back to actually being a rock ’n’ roll band until we started doing Danger Days this year.

Why didn’t you release the album you made with Brendan O’Brien?

At the end of 2009, we decided to get into the studio with Rob Cavallo and write one or two new tracks to fill out that [O’Brien-produced] record. We realized the momentum from these new songs was carrying us, and we decided to scrap everything else we had done. It was clear to us that the true My Chemical Romance was in the songs that ended up on Danger Days. That’s us being creative, dangerous, daring—and the previous stuff we were working on had none of that.

Why did that epiphany take so long?

We have a desire to constantly create something new, and after we were done touring on The Black Parade, we didn’t have anything left. So we took a break, then started the process: We wrote and recorded an entire record and scrapped it. If we had tried to get into the studio sooner after finishing the tour, we probably wouldn’t be a band today. And if we put out that record we were working on in 2009, we probably wouldn’t be a band today.

The situation was that dire?

We just weren’t in the right place at that time. It really took writing “Na Na Na” and reuniting with Rob Cavallo. All those elements really added up to this atmosphere where it was inspiring to work again. Prior to that, we were showing up at the studio like zombies.

Where did “Na Na Na” come from?

We were all frustrated, and Gerard had gone out with his wife for a long weekend in the desert. He ended up writing the riff and the lyrics to “Na Na Na.” When we got back to Cavallo’s studio, he brought it up and we tracked it. There was an energy in that room that was very different from the prior sessions. It was pretty clear when we wrote that song that we were going to start over, but we didn’t really know it until we were about four songs in. That song was the catalyst for starting over and rediscovering what this band is. Before, everything was, “You can’t, you don’t, you shouldn’t.” We wrote “Na Na Na” and all of that went out the window.

When did the concept emerge?

It was all organic. Gerard had been coming up with a lot of art pieces. He was working on a comic with a friend of ours, Shaun Simon, back home, and it had some of the same ideas as the record. If you look at the lyrics, it’s about the returning of color to the world, of danger. That’s the crux of what the record is about. But it’s only conceptual in the sense that it’s framed as a pirate-radio broadcast from the future. When you listen to the record, there’s not a story being told. As far as characters and settings, that’s more for the videos.

Did you purposely avoid a narrative?

On The Black Parade, one of the things we got stuck in was trying to tell a story. That’s a big undertaking, and when you’re trying to tell a story, the songwriting suffers, because sometimes you have to do certain things musically to tell that story. This album was simply about writing a collection of great songs.

What was the writing like?

We did most of it in the studio, which was cool. That’s also why it’s the most organic record we’ve done. We had all these tools at our disposal all the time, and that was a great way to write. There was no time that took place between when you had an idea and when you could try it. To me, music is something that you have to capture right when you hear it. This is the first record we really wrote in a studio, and I think we’ll always do it that way. The possibilities are endless.

How fast did you work?

The first batch of four or five songs came pretty quickly. Two days after “Na Na Na,” we wrote “Vampire Money” and then “SING.” Each song was so different from the last, and every day in the studio you were getting something different. We were being challenged as musicians and songwriters to do something different, something that we’d never done before. I can’t even explain how exciting that is. There was this energy, this vibrancy, in the studio, and in the music, too. You could definitely tell when somebody had an idea. We usually would get to the studio in the early afternoon, and you could just see a look in people’s eyes, like, “I’ve got this idea!” It was the most freeing feeling any of us have ever had. It felt like rediscovering the band.

–Eric R. Danton"

12/2010 music and musicians magazine

[manikas-whims]

An Elusive Alliance

— a Rafayel & Xavier friendship mini fic with sprinkles of Rafayel x Reader and Xavier x Reader moments

<- previous chapter | next chapter ->

SINCERE THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO READS THIS FIC 🫶🥹this was supposed to be a silly chapter but somehow it turned into Rafayel and Xavier being sus about each other lol

Encounter 3: confrontation [AO3]

It was his first day off in 3 weeks and he would rather spend it sleeping till noon, and then grabbing a meal or two later on. But the minute you came by his apartment (ten o’ clock in the morning), and informed him about how you were going out with that artist guy again, Xavier bit the inside of his cheek, reluctantly dressed himself into more appropriate clothes for an outing, and smiled at you.

However, now as he stood inside a local pet store in Linkon, he found himself quite fascinated by all the adorable cat toys and supplies. Apparently they were supposed to buy stuff for the cats at that guy's home.

The said guy– Rafayel– was whining to you about how one of the little kittens had scratched up three of his favorite outfits, and you listened enthusiastically, almost as if fascinated by every word he uttered. You had an easy sort of body language around the guy, your hands involuntarily reaching out to muss his hair, your face gravitating closer as you chuckled over the things he said. And Xavier couldn't help his fists from clenching helplessly at his sides. He watched and wondered if that was how you and Xavier looked to others. Or if he appeared just as distant as he tried to keep himself– always hovering around you but never close enough.

You turned your head all of a sudden, your innocent smile now directed right at Xavier. “I’m going to check out the aisles over there. You two also look around and buy whatever’s needed!”

Xavier smiled back. So did Rafayel. But the minute you turned at the corner and disappeared behind an aisle, their faces waning into more aloof expressions.

“Listen here, asshole. Let's make one thing clear.” Rafayel declared. “I don't like you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” The words slipped out of Xavier's mouth before he could even begin to think of masking his annoyance behind a regular smile.

“And I absolutely don't trust you.”

Xavier had to scoff at that one. If they were to discuss trust, then he could easily say the same for Rafayel. The former prince couldn't put a finger to it but there was a strange otherworldly air about the guy. And despite there being no signs of hostility when it came to his interactions with you, Xavier simply could not bring himself to like the guy.

In the end Xavier chose to respond with a time-saving gesture that relied merely on him shrugging his shoulders.

“Wow! Showing your true colors now that Y/N isn't around.” Rafayel laughed, no mirth behind his gaze. “You know ever since I met you, I've been thinking a lot about you.”

Xavier felt a side of his lips twitching up in amusement. “That’s flattering.”

“Not like that, you smug bastard!” Rafayel hissed, causing a bunch of customers as well as the staff to flash them suspicious glances.

Immediately they both bowed their heads in unison, apologizing for the misconduct.

“Is that Rafayel!?” A girl gasped, nudging her friend to get her attention.

The said friend did look up from her smartphone, her eyes widening comically. “Oh my god! He does look similar!”

And then Xavier heard noises that felt far more detrimental to his ears than the screeching of some of the worst wanderers he'd fought till date. Two fully grown women, squealing and pointing in Rafayel's direction. And he had no issues with how people expressed their joy or excitement over their celebrity crushes. But thanks to them, more customers began flocking around the spot to get a glimpse of the (apparently very) famous artist that stood right next to Xavier. And it was in that moment of chaos that epiphany struck him as his mind flashed a grainy, old memory of a stained piece of paper– a poster actually, with a bounty on the head of a guy with features resembling that of Rafayel's.

Xavier sneaked a glance at the guy in wonder, only to find him ducking his face low, his usually confident shoulders sagged in discomfort.

Normally Xavier couldn't care less about the issues faced by celebrities. But he had been onscreen here and there, and he had a shred of understanding of what it felt like being in the spotlight. An experience he would not recommend.

Sighing, Xavier moved in front of Rafayel so as to block the people's smartphone cameras from taking any photographs. Then he scratched his cheek, his hand hesitant only for a moment before landing on Rafayel's shoulder.

The purple haired man looked up at him, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“Don’t assume anything weird.” Xavier clarified.

The next moment they vanished, leaving only fading wisps of light in their wake.

When Xavier removed his hand from Rafayel's shoulder, they had already teleported to a more secluded section inside the shop.

“My evol.” He muttered a quick explanation.

The gears seemed to instantly turn in Rafayel's head and he nodded. “Fine. But don't expect me to thank you for it. If anything, this makes you even more shady.”

Xavier’s eyes narrowed. He saved this guy's ungrateful ass for what? Maybe he should've left him on his own to deal with those crazy fans after all.

“An evol that allows you to come and go wherever you please. ” Rafayel continued analytically. “Hair that gleams silvery in the moonlight. And your public records listing barely any substantial information..”

“Get to the point.”

“Point is,” Rafayel squinted his eyes and scrunched his nose. “Your face looks suspiciously similar to someone I've seen. I just can't remember who.”

Xavier visibly relaxed his composure. He had dealt with such allegations numerous times in the past, and knew exactly how to divert people's attention away from himself. And in the present case, he didn't even need to think of a topic. He already had one.

“Speaking of familiar faces, I saw yours too.” Xavier watched Rafayel's expression slowly morph into one of irritation. “On a bounty poster in the N109 Zone at that.”

Rafayel scoffed. “At least I'm popular enough that people want me dead. Unlike someone who’s entire identity seems bot generated.”

Xavier didn't react negatively to that because that statement wasn't entirely false. And he grasped two things from Rafayel's words. One: the fact that this was actually the same guy he had seen on that poster months ago. Rafayel confirmed Xavier's speculation himself. And two: this guy was quite easy to rile.

Rafayel probably mistook his lack of response for arrogance. But before he could make any pressing remarks on that, both of them heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and looked back.

From behind an aisle full of catnip, your beautiful face emerged, and Xavier felt his lips automatically stretching into a soft smile. Rafayel’s did as well.

“There you are!” You jogged up to them. “You guys have been playing around while I did the whole shopping! What's the point of having two strong guys by my side if they're going to be useless when I need them?”

You had your hands on your hips and were pouting, too adorable to be taken seriously.

“What are you guys doing here anyways?” You asked, eyes swaying from one face to the other.

“Rafayel was telling me exactly how popular he is.” Xavier answered. Then after a beat, he added. “He also says he'd like to pay for all the expenses since the cats actually belong to him.”

“Awww~” Your eyes lit up in admiration for Rafayel. “You do like the kitties after all.”

“Nooo! I don't like those–”

Rafayel tried to protest but Xavier interrupted. “And he said he'll treat us to hotpot at that fancy new restaurant you wanted to check out.”

“Wow! Thanks Rafayel! You seem to be in a good mood.” You clapped your hands in joy.

In your excitement, you grabbed him by the left arm; Xavier by the right, and dragged the two men to the billing counter.

Behind you, Rafayel silently glared at Xavier. And Xavier could only smirk in return. This guy truly was so easy to rile.

not both Rafayel and Xavier having a bounty on their heads lol 😆

please drop some thoughts in replies or reblogs..Next chapter will be Rafayel pov again cuz i think i get a lil too serious with Xavier pov lol..and this fic is supposed to be light and silly but.. we'll see :)

<- previous chapter | next chapter ->

» NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST «

[wingedsirens]

spiderverse twitter 22!!!!!!

previous | next

a/n: had some horrific epiphanies and made cinnamon rolls

taglist: @autismnation @scarthefangirl @cerria @starsval @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @seriously-citrus @mixedfandomer @darksidescorner @ayoushs-stuff

ⓒ wingedsirens2023— do not steal, copy or translate

[deathbyathousandspiders]

omggggg can i request billingual reader and maybe peter finds it cute that when shes explaining stuff she has a thinking face of what to say next cos she wants to be sure of how to say it in english 🥹 or maybe hearing her speak in her mother tongue/native language does he find it cute or smn :(((((((

as a white english–speaking woman, i only feel comfortable writing for a bilingual reader with a language/culture that i’m relatively familiar with and could properly represent, which isn’t many :,)

so i will write an imagine for a bilingual reader with a language i’m going to school for: ✨sign language✨

i hope that’s okay :)

a/n — i am still a student and i’m constantly learning, so if there’s a detail or some information that i’m incorrect about, please tell me asap !!!

✨masterlist✨.

2.5k.

Sitting alone at cafes was a custom for you. People watching, spectating murmurs and laughter but never quite grasping it. You lacked the understanding of how the sound captured their conversing, but you weren’t missing anything. Your focus was mainly set on finishing your chemistry homework, anyways.

Midway through an equation, the light shifted over your table. You felt the dip in the booth on your left and looked up to see who sat beside you. Your eyes met the deepest brown pair you swore you’d ever seen. It was almost like the rest of the room lit up with color after you first caught a glimpse.

You certainly recognized the boy. He went to school with you, but you’d barely crossed paths other than having a class or two together. And from the way he glanced at your paperwork, you assumed that chemistry was on his schedule too.

His lips moved, and your eyes studied their shapes as best as they could. Perhaps he was nervous, or overly caffeinated, but the movement was too swift to distinguish.

Slowly, you shook your head at him, right index finger pointing to your ear. Apology and disappointment weighted your eyelids. You really did want to see what he wanted to ask you, but your expectation was for him to up and leave.

Instead, sudden understanding washed over him; a look of epiphany. Quickly after, patience overtook the presence beside you. You were shocked. He tried to slow his words of choice down, using his hands to illustrate but not really communicate. You could tell he was trying, so you didn’t want to make fun of his efforts. The smallest fit of laughter threatened to slip from your lips as you gestured at him to stop.

From the table, you grabbed your notebook and flipped to an empty page. Your pencil flew over the page to jot down a question:

‘Do you know any sign?’

You figured that was a start.

Watching the way he smiled, you nearly forgot to hand him your pencil to reply. Your eyes followed his hand as it met the parchment and scribbled so gently, it surprised you to see writing even stuck. He pushed it over to you. ‘Yes, I know one’

Your eyes met, and you studied him patiently. His right hand sat atop of his left elbow, holding a fist that excluded his pinky and index fingers; a rockstar skull. His left hand rested beneath his right elbow, opening and closing a fist with a flicking motion. It was a sign you knew all too well. ‘Bullshit,’ you watched him mouth.

The giggle bubbles through your throat with physical feeling, and your hands gently pressed his arms to make it stop. You shook your head, smiling as you corrected him.

Your dominant hand met your chin with an open hand, lightly touching the tips of your fingers to your face. As you moved your hand to the space in front of you, you closed your hand into a fist.

‘Bullshit,’ you mouthed back at him. The crinkle in the boy’s brow marked his confusion.

Pen met paper again as you wrote out the explanation. ‘Hearing people came up with a fake sign to act like they knew shit.’

He looked up at you with some disgust to his expression, and you simply shrugged at him.

Politely, he held his hand out for the pen, and you gave it to him with the trust that he’d return it soon after.

‘Then maybe you could teach me some instead?’

The grin on your lips was unbreakable, and only seemed to grow the more you kept up the conversation. You nodded your head, writing a simple ‘sure:)’ beside his note. You met his eyes again, pointing to your chest before swiftly fingerspelling your name. The boy marveled at your hand, equally lost and mesmerized.

His pointer finger rapidly twirled the air, circling near his face four or five times; you assumed that meant he wanted you to repeat yourself. So, you agreed.

Slowly, you held out each hand shape of your name a little longer, waiting til the twinkle in his eyes indicated that the letter was registering for him. It was fairly entertaining to watch.

He wrote it on the notebook once he got it just to clarify with you. ‘Y/N?’ He seemed nervous for your reply.

You signed yes, then gestured for him to do the same. You wanted to see what his name was.

Hesitantly, the boy tried his best, bouncing each hand shape to the letters of his name. It made you happy to see his attempt, and you were fond of his efforts.

Pulling the notebook closer, you jot down his name. ‘Peter?’

You’d never forget the way he smiled at you afterwards. ‘Yes:)’ He wrote back. ‘You want help with chemistry?’

And that’s how you met Peter Parker.

You were an unlikely duo at Midtown. It was nice to have somebody in the classroom to have secret conversations with, and to teach sign to. Peter picked most things up pretty quickly, especially because he had an excellent teacher. Plus, little did you know that he watched ASL courses off YouTube in his free time.

That is, his freetime when he wasn’t being Spider–Man.

He never told you that he was Spider–Man. In fact, you didn’t find out he was until a few months into your friendship. After months of study hours and movie nights, you watched Spider–Man signing to a Deaf kid on the news; the web–slinging superhero signed what like salad.

That was a classic Peter Parker mistake.

So, when were you planning to tell me you’re Spider–Man? You asked him, signing nonchalantly. You’d waited all week until you two were alone, studying like you normally did on the weekends. You sat back on his desk chair, raising a brow, calm and collected.

It took everything in him not to forget how to respond. Peter had been practicing sign, but he still wasn’t nearly as versed as you were. What? He started. Poor way to respond on his part. You pointed at his hands, trying to call him out.

That! You were so determined to catch him in his coverup, opening your laptop.

His hands flailed to try and capture your attention. However, your laser focus was something he couldn’t cut.

Having the clip ready, you played it, turning the screen towards him and showing him the fluke in his signs.

Peter facepalmed when he noticed, face red as a tomato but you couldn’t care less. You felt more than accomplished to have deciphered his secret. You owe me!

Signing, Peter got over himself a little, rolling his eyes playfully at you. Whatever, fine!

To help Peter practice his signing, you’d dismissed your in–class interpreters the second the bell rang and had Peter translate your questions to your teachers. Perhaps it was selfish to put him on the spot, but when you’d asked him about it later, he said he was more than happy to help you out.

He enjoyed learning sign, almost as much as he enjoyed his time with you. Peter had never met anyone as amazing as you; nobody that he’d met before watched the world with your eyes, or lit up a room so vibrantly. You always asked the right questions, saw straight through people’s bullshit, and put others’ needs far before your own. Don’t even get him started on the fact that you’d never even heard your own laugh before.

Peter couldn’t wrap his head around all the things he thought you were missing out on. That was how he saw it, at least, til you changed his mind. He was grateful to know how your fit of giggles sang to him, but there was more things to life than that. Sound was only one way to see the world; if you choose to act like it’s a principle more than a privilege, you’ll get nowhere. He knew he’d waste time dwelling on things you weren’t even sad over.

Instead, Peter would marvel at how fluently and beautifully you’d sign when you were passionate about something. The choreographed tangents that you’d go on absolutely mesmerized him, even though he could only pick up one or two things you were saying.

Your hands moved so fast, he second guessed whether you were actually communicating or just painting a masterpiece with the shapes of your hand.

That blissful, ecstatic look in your eyes told Peter everything he needed to know. He was the luckiest boy in the world to know you.

You were the most joyous person he knew.

That joy was a strength that you’d gained overtime, though.

Rushing down the school halls, you had memorized the rhythm underneath your feet as you pattered down the tile. You always pictured the sound like something fragile, or feathered, especially seeing as your shoes had rubber soles. Sometimes, when you walked slow enough, you could feel the rattling steps of other students around you.

Today, specifically, the rumbled pattern beneath you threw you off your rocker.

Especially as the charging steps behind you tread right in your direction.

A hefty pair of hands shoved your shoulder blades, pushing you toppling into the floor beneath you. The sound of chatter couldn’t be heard, but you certainly felt the energy in the hallway shift. Pressing off the floor with your hands, you noticed the eyes now mindful to your presence. You had an audience.

You flipped yourself around to look at the shadow towering over you. Some flimsy–looking, curly haired, short classmate of yours stood above you. His hands perched on his hips as he spewed words at you, mouth moving far too quickly to lip read. You stayed there, staring up at him with a glare, merely making out the words ‘stupid’ and ‘Parker’ from his muted speech.

You were used to bullies, but you couldn’t sit while this dickhead kept Peter Parker’s name disrespectfully in his mouth.

Just as you pressed up to rise to your feet, this bitchass shoved the toe of his shoe right in the center of your chest, pushing you back into the ground and leaving dirt all over your favorite top. You felt the gasp leave your throat, trying to fight against it.

That’s when Peter Parker swooped in and forced the boy away from you. Anger wasn’t an expression you’d seen on Peter’s face, and you couldn’t tell whether it was something to awe at or fear.

Their echoed shouts and feuds and insults bounced from the floor and into your fingertips. You could tell the words they exchanged were ugly, considering that the two were face to face and both had such crease to their eyebrows. Fists clenched, shoulders squared, you could tell they were about to brawl.

Peter threw the first punch, taking you by surprise but still sending a smile to your lips. The two boys had a displeasing fight to the eye, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to look away.

A girl to your left offered a hand to help you off the floor, to which you signed a quick thank you before both of you saw the boys getting caught by a set of teachers. All it took was a second before the two boys froze dead in their stances and peacefully walked with the teachers down the hall to the principal’s office.

In an instant, all eyes found their way to you and your dirt–stained top. Before you let them react to the heat growing on your cheeks, you rushed off, going to the one place you knew you wouldn’t be disturbed in.

Two and a half hours passed before Peter walked through the open door of his bedroom, a small smile on his lips as he greeted you. Are you okay? He signed quickly, soon shutting the door.

Are you okay? You signed right back, swift to press off your spot on his bed and walk over to him. Peter was the one with the blackened eye and busted lip. Clearly he should be the one to worry about. Your hands found his cheeks and gently cupped his face as you looked at his injuries. The sight broke your heart.

Although, you weren’t expecting to see his pale cheeks brighten with red in your grasp. You could feel the second when his breath stopped fanning your face, and that’s when you realized that his breath had been fanning your face; you were inches away from him. The atmosphere of the room changed.

‘What?’ You mouthed, brows creasing together with concern. You weren’t stupid, but you were definitely choosing to ignore the obvious. There was no way that Peter Parker was flustered by you, right? That was preposterous.

His eyes threatened a glance at your lips before you felt his fingers curl around your wrist. Peter moved your left hand to his chest, pressing against his heart. The skin beneath his shirt pulsed against you, and quickened by the second. Things felt very intimate, things felt very thick and hot and heavy. You didn’t notice it til right then that the room was getting hotter.

Your eyes caught a glimpse of his lips and you hadn’t noticed that you were staring at them. Peter’s face moved closer to your’s and that’s when you decided to be bold. You captured his lips with yours, kissing him tenderly, careful. The caress of his hands down your sides and grasp he held around your waist told you that you didn’t have to tread as cautiously.

Peter kissed you and every inch of you felt warm. You swore you’d lifted off the ground when his hands held your back, your hips, your waist. His lips against yours truly felt something like magic and you never wanted to leave this moment. A moment where his hair was silk between your fingers and his body became one with your’s.

Pulling back, Peter kept his arms around you, now taking the time and the close proximity to study you and your injuries; you learned to recognize the protective look in his eyes. His stare stopped and stuck itself to the dirt smudged between your breasts. He moved his right hand from your waist. Your shirt.. Peter couldn’t help but stare at the stain.

You couldn’t care less about it. What? You want it off? You joked, watching the immediate shift in his expression, and feeling the laughter he admitted through the tips of your fingers on his torso. Peter pulled you back into a kiss and you knew right then and there that things would be different.

Never in your life did you think you’d get so lucky as to meet Peter Parker, but now that you had him, you knew you’d never let him go.

[spadecentral]

🍱 Pain for Food | Jamil Viper x Reader

>> requested: yes, by an anon >> a/n: none

>> masterlist: 400 fllr special , here!! >> summary: you and jamil make poor decisions >> reader prns: they/them >> warning(s): none

“Oh!” you had an epiphany. It was ethereal. “Maybe you can hold me on your shoulders so I can get to the top shelf!”

“Why would I do this for you?" Jamil’s voice was flat. “You’re going to get hurt. Badly.”

"Because you love me!" you raised your arms to indicate for him to turn around. “And that stuff up there is really good!”

"Not enough-” he sighed as he watched you pout. “...Fine."

“Yes!” you smiled as he turned around.

“Be careful, though.” he said as he crouched down so you could hop onto his shoulders.

“Yeah yeah,” you brushed off his concern.

“I’m being serious, love.” his voice was stern, even though he knew you wouldn’t listen.

“Whatever you say~”

Getting on his shoulders, he grabbed onto your legs and started to stand up. You curled your torso in case of getting hit in the head, and when you didn’t, you straightened up fully.

“Ow!” you yelped, letting go of your thighs to raise your hand to your head.

“Is everything okay?” Jamil’s voice was laced with worry.

“Yeah! Just… hit my head on the ceiling…” you could tell Jamil was trying to keep a laugh in. “Hey, don’t laugh!”

“Of course, of course,” he said. “Are you alright?”

“Yep, I’m fine.” you brushed it off, trying to ignore the stinging pain that was starting to form on the top of your head. “Now, it’s time to sift through the cabinets.”

As you sifted through the things in the cabinet, the thing tha you were looking for caught your eye. “Aha!! I found it!” 

“Good, now take your hands out of the cabinet and I’ll let you down.”

You grabbed the packaging and exited the cabinet, allowing Jamil to let you down. As you descended, your boyfriend’s grip on your thighs was tighter than before, probably trying to keep you stable.

“Alright, you can get off now,” he said as he released you.

“Cool! Thanks Jami!” you smiled at him as you put the package down. 

“Come here,” he said, pulling on your arm. “Let me look at your head.”

“I promise it’s fine!” you said, trying to wave it off as nothing.

“Mhm,” is all he said. Inspecting the top of your head, he kissed it before letting you go. “There, now it’s good.”

“...Oh.” is all you said, you face pinker than a raspberry.

>> jamil taglist: @tulipluvlettr | @strawberry-hyacinth | @oseathepebble | @wisteriainslumber | @villaim | @pastelmages | @xphantasmagoriax | @atlasnessie | @divinesapph | @ze-maki-nin | @silly-ez | @l1vyatan | @savanaclaw1996 | @rayisalive | @kyraxiyn

[jaemmphilia]

☾ painful truth ☽

☾ synopsis: after being wonbin's friend-with-benefits, you crave something more than just being a toy for him. ☾ featuring: wonbin x gn!reader (no pronouns used, but written with a male reader in mind) ☾ prompt: "what am i to you?" ☾ warnings: angsssttt again, wonbin is mean and just brushes off reader ☾ disclaimer: this is simply a work of fiction and does not represent wonbin as a person. ☾ triplejaracha, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or upload to other platforms.

read hjenthusiasts' version here! <33

wonbin had texted you that awful "u up?" message, and you found yourself back in his bed. you told yourself that you wouldn't give in to him, the urge to block his number and move on with your life strong. although not as strong as the urge to fall into his arms for just a few moments of pleasure, he dropped you back to square one of being friends.

your roommates and fellow friends tell you that you need to get over him and that you'll never be more to him than just a friend that he can also stick his dick in. you call them harsh, your brows furrowed as your fingers type away on your phone. you sleep with him, he wakes you up with breakfast and a kiss on the forehead.

when he kissed you on the forehead the very first time, you teased him about being so domestic but never told him to stop. so now it's part of your routine with him.

lately, you're noticing that wonbin is being more affectionate than before.

like last week, you went out with him and your roommates to a bar near the apartment complex you all live in. you decided as a group that you would walk the short distance, you get to save gas and get some exercise in, the only downside being the insanely chilly night-time weather. you could see your breath whenever you would laugh at something your roommate, eunseok, would say, or when wonbin's friend sohee would trip over the sidewalk.

you rubbed your hands together to create some warmth but before you could even get a good amount of warmth going, your hands were being encased in wonbin's. his hands were loads warmer than yours so you didn't complain. but your poor heart began to pound in your chest.

as the night went on, wonbin only got more touchy with you. you knew he wasn't totally wasted so he was still conscious of his actions, so why was being so affectionate toward you?

after that night, you had an epiphany. you had a crush on your friend-with-benefits. you did everything to try to rid yourself of those feelings. you slept with other people, went on blind dates that never seemed to end well, and you find yourself imagining what it would be like to be wonbin's partner.

the day you asked wonbin that one question that should be forbidden in a friends-with-benefits relationship was heartbreaking for you.

wonbin brought you breakfast that morning, like he always does and he left a soft kiss on the crown of your head. your face got warm and you bit your lip. before you could even stop your mouth from moving, the question just spilled out of your mouth like word vomit.

"what am i to you?"

you watched wonbin pause in his steps and he turned around to face you. he ran his hand through his mop of messy hair, his shoulders jumping up in a shrug, "you're my friend, obviously."

you shook your head at him and sat up more in the bed. "friends don't do what we do, bin."

"we're just special friends, y/n, that's all," he said to you, his shoulders shrugging at you again.

"i know, i know. but special friends don't hold hands and kiss each other on the forehead and stuff," you said to him, your voice raising in tone, indicating your disappointment.

"i kiss all my friends on the head, you aren't that special," wonbin tutted at you, his eyes looking away from your form on the bed.

your heart shattered at that moment. you weren't special to him, he said so himself. you were nothing but a toy for him, a object for him to use and toss away when he was done.

you fought the tears wanting to spill from your eyes, you gathered your things and you left him. you ignored his calls of your name, his exclamations telling you to wait.

you went back to your apartment and sobbed in eunseok's arms all night long. he was your rock in that very moment and you were very grateful for him.

you really should listen to your friends more often.

[dangopango00]

ABYSS RAZOR W LOVE LANGUAGES

Abyss Razor x gn reader

Pt 1 | Pt 2

A/N: I was gonna do loser so hcs but i keep getting annoyed bc i wanna improve my writing but dk what to do bye ANYWAY I JUST CAUGHT UP WITH THE ANIME AND OUEUEU 😭😭😭😭 Im down bad even more they animated the scenes so well hes so kewt

Mostly not established relationship outside of the “as you get closer” sorry im a sucker for the slowburn also oh my god i have to make this two parts why is it so long ill write part two laterrer

GIVING From best to worst (more utc)

1. Acts of Service:

This is his specialty for sure; he just feels as if he has to be useful to you and if he isn’t then you won’t want him anymore. Acts of service are the only thing he can do without stammering or messing up in some way and it’s the only one he’s confident with too. It comes naturally to him tbh he:

- Reminds you of things you need to do even if you only mentioned it to him once in passing

- Brings extra materials or snacks with him if you often forget to bring those things

- Organizes your stuff if he notices your bag and/or your room is messy

- ALWAYS asks if you need help with anything and will do that even if u just tell him to relax he’d instead start trying to help YOU relax

Even as he gets more comfortable with you, excessively partaking in acts of service is something he just can’t shake which isn’t a bad thing! Its his love language afterall, but you just wish he’d stop worrying about if he’s being useful enough and just do what comes naturally. With more reassurance and time he will eventually start to slow down more though.

2. Gift Giving:

I think his gift giving usually comes with his acts of service like bringing snacks. He also just gives you a lot of small gifts because he wants you to know how much you mean to him but he really can’t put it into his words and even if he could theres no way he could articulate it out loud. Some things he gives you includes:

- Origami— I feel like origami is sth he does when he’s bored but even so, he puts the utmost love and care into each of his creations so giving them as gifts is sth reserved for the people closest to him

- Snacks— This one is simple he just cares about u and gets concerned if it seems like u aren’t eating enough or if ur hungry but without food

- A Deck of Cards— ODDLY SPECIFIC but I feel like he’d want you to have one so you and him can play cards even if he forgets his. I think even though he usually plays for Abel he does really enjoy physical games like cards and dominoes etc. like playing cards is how he bonds with people

- Accessories— Now this is RARE bc to him this is reallll bold but under the right circumstances he will give you things like earrings if your ears are pierced or a bracelet or charm (MOST likely the far latter). He sees a lot of accessories that remind him of you and its a little ridiculous, he’ll buy them but because it’s very bold he either won’t give it to you and wait for the “right moment”, give it to someone else to give to you or just leave it somewhere in your room when he’s there

As you grow closer Abyss will get more comfortable with giving you bigger things and will lean more into the accessories when gift giving. He might even feel bold enough to give you the plush he won while koala snotting with Mash.

3. Quality Time:

I was gonna put this one at #2 but I had an epiphany. I fear in the beginning stages Abyss would definitely try to keep you at arms length because of his eye. Oh especially if you met him while he was wearing an eyepatch and didn’t know about his eye; in fact, he feels guilty because he feels like he’s tricking you by being around you at all. Not only this but he has to split his time between you and Lord Abel as well so. However he does feel a little selfish with you and he really does like you so he spends time with you when:

- In the Forest— Just being alone with you in the forest takes the weight of social pressure off of him. It’s almost like the forest is keeping a secret between you and him. He doesn’t have to worry about whether or not people would avoid you seeing you with him nor does he even have to think about his eye or if you’d accept it, he can just live in the moment and enjoy reading with u

- In Classes no one else he knows attends— Similar to the forest it’s like keeping a secret but this time it’s specifically because none of his friends are here to see him acting so selfishly.

- He’s Jealous— Now he wont say anything buttt when he’s jealous Abyss will stick to you like a bad habit although still keeping you at a short distance. He just feels like he needs to be with you atm don’t mind him.

- You Reassure Him— Similarly, when you assure him that you don’t mind his reputation or eye (if you know) it makes him want to be around you more and all of that day he’ll be around you more than usual. He’s so grateful just to have met you and for you to say all that? He’s over the moon; he almost feels like he can finally breathe freely

As time goes on he definitely gets insanely good at this considering he loves being around you and the only thing holding him back is his insecurity. I def think that once you’ve been dating a long time or married he clings to you like crazy and even in the beginning stages once he’s gotten comfortable with you he’d follow you like a lost puppy even though his behavior is more catlike lol

4. Physical Touch:

He’s not very good at touch I’m ngl he can barely form words around you let alone touch you 😭. BUT. He does sometimes put the moves on you without noticing and he does try his best. This would include:

- Playing with ur hair when you’re alone or fixing it if he notices it got a bit messed up

- Fixing/Tidying up ur clothes between classes if he notices sth wrong like you tying your tie wrong or if the way you tied your bow was a little crooked (idk why I just think he’d be insanely good at tying bows/ties I bet he ties Abel’s for him too that boy can NOT tie a tie without it looking a little goofy)

- Resting his hands on your back or shoulders when you hug him. Now this seems like normal behavior but its A LOT for him ok his heart is pounding but he really does enjoy being in your arms

- Patting your head awkwardly or holding your face (if he’s feeling bold) when you’re upset bc he doesn’t know what to do but all he knows is he wants you to feel better and that he misses your smile

As time goes on he slowly gets better with physical touch but honestly he gets better VERY slowly like even if he can handle your advances I’m not sure he’ll be able to initiate things like kissing until marriage LOL ok well thats a bit much but you’ll have to have been in a relationship for a while

(Also a silly little tidbit when he initiates physical touch he gets it from you. For example he holds your face because you’ve held his face before and he never felt more at peace so he wanted to give you that same feeling)

5. Words of Affirmation:

Well. Speaking words isn’t one of his strong suits especially to someone he’s infatuated with. HOWEVER his sincerity is unmatched when he does manage to say something. Usually when he speaks words of affirmation they aren’t direct words of love like “I love you” or anything like that but it is always very sweet. He says things like:

- “Thank you.” — He never stops thanking you and apologizing 😭😭 He just needs you to know that he knows he’s so lucky to have you and that he would never EVER take you for granted

- “It’s an honor” — He says this OFTEN everything he gets to do with you is an honor because he feels as though he doesn’t deserve you; he can’t give you all that you deserve yet you stick by his side with no hesitation? He feels blessed; even wonders if The Lord (tm) Abel has something to do with this. He’s just so happy and most of all, grateful

- “I’m so glad to have met you” — This is one that he often mumbles under his breath when you’re being sweet to him; his feelings just swell in his heart at that moment and he lets it slip from his mouth

- “I need you” — He only said this like one (1) ☝️ time but im running out of words ok ANYWAY he’d say this to you only in critical moments like in the heat of the moment if you had been badly injured and you’re just barely hanging on. Besides this under normal circumstances, he’d say this while asking for your forgiveness after he had been avoiding you for a long time out of insecurity and you’re mad at him

As time goes on he gets MUCH better with words of affirmation and has been consciously making an effort to say more because he doesn’t want you to ever think that he doesn’t love you or isn’t proud of you. It’s so often in your beginning dating stage that he’ll stutter something incomprehensible and then give up and try again later going, “A-about earlier…(incomprehensible stuttering)” (he’s trying to say I love you or I’m proud of you or something similar but he couldn’t quite find the words)

[spaceagebachelormann]

This can probably be with any version of Shaggy so do what you will 😎

Shaggy x gn!reader who has crow brain and gives Shaggy little rocks/shiny things because they like him but are too shy to say it straight out.

Cue jealous Fred: “…Why don’t I get any cool rocks :(…”

shaggy rogers with a reader who brings him things.

-> ft. shaggy rogers.

-> warnings. none!

-> mars thoughts. i kinda just merged all the shaggys together so it’s not a specific version!! been waiting for a request for him for forever now <3 divider by @/benkeibear

-> links. m.list || scooby doo m.list || nav.

okay so he’s not the brightest

he doesn’t realize you’re giving him the stuff as a way to show him you like him

even though daph and velma have hinted it like several times

he’s a little dumb <3

when you give him a rock or something he’s like “uh. thanks!”

and he puts everything you give him on a shelf in his room! <3

lets say daphne is coming to your aid on trying to show him that you like him so like she comes to his house and sees the shelf and her heart is racing cause of how cute that is and she asks him “why do you think they give you these?” and he’s like “idk but i love it”

she was so close to shaking him and screaming

anyways moving on

after awhile he starts bringing you things back!! like pennies, rocks, shiny stuff he found on the floor

and it melts your heart

and it starts to become a little trade you guys do everyday

like you’ll be sitting in the back of the mystery machine together and you’ll shyly hand him a butterfly pin

and he’ll hand you something like. idk a quarter?

and daphne turns around in the middle of y’all doing it

and she’s like “awww! you give eachother stuff! that’s so cute!”

she’s your guys #1 supporter

anyways this is where fred gets jealous

he starts pouting in the front seat like “they don’t give me any cool rocks or anything :(”

daphne lovingly hits him and whispers “THEY DONT HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU FRED.”

and just like that it all clicks in fred’s head and he starts helping daphne get you guys together

i feel like after a little while shaggy starts to actually realize that you’re only giving him stuff and not anyone else

and he tells scooby about it first

and cause scoobys also kinda oblivious to everything he’s like “maybe they just appreciate you as a friend”

and shag agrees but still goes to daph and velma about it cause he needs another opinion

he comes to them like “why do you think y/n gives me all kinds of shiny stuff?”

velma hints it to him at first

he doesn’t get it

so daphne gently lets him know you like him (she full on yells “OH MY GOD THEY LIKE YOU!!”)

and everything in his head just clicks and he has a not silent epiphany

he’s so happy!!

the next day he like awkwardly gives you a rock that has something unreadable on it

so later that day you go to fred who enlightens you that it says he also likes you back cause he’s the only person who can read shaggys handwriting

and then uou go find him

and you both start awkwardly rambling and it’s so cute omg

someon manages to cut though that yes, they like you/him, and it’s like a moment of understanding

and y’all become a couple <3

amd you continue bringing eachother random shit because it’s fun

and daphne and velma and fred are all your biggest fans

might come back to this later idfk

hope u liked it!! <3

scooby doo taglist: @presidentroarie

[vaguesxrrow]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE EDWIN X RECENTLY DEAD MALE READER!!!! I NEED MORE MLM READER STUFF AND ALSO I'M A SUCKER FOR THE LONG DEAD AND USED TO IT/THE RECENTLY DEAD CONFUSED AND SCARED THING!!!!

hii yes ofc ! lovedd writing this so i hope u enjoy reading :>>

edwin payne / recently dead!reader

a/n: reader's cause of death is unspecified aside from he died on the street, and also he has an apartment.

anddd uh i forgot that death usually comes for newly dead people... so excuse that inaccuracy please or explain it away with how reader ran away from his body

wc: 1886

tags: male reader, ghost reader

cw's: mention of death, panic attacks (all not detailed)

you ran, leaving your body behind you where it lay on the sidewalk, limp and as still as rigor mortis (you never thought that saying could be applied literally, but now it was, and wasn't that crazy?).

you were panicking, you vaguely registered, as the passerby's and the cars seemed to blur in your vision. people kept passing right through you, and you hunched in on yourself. even if you couldn't feel them (which was also a new, unwelcome epiphany), it still made your skin crawl.

until - a firm hand rested on your shoulder. your breath hitched, like you couldn't quite figure out if the touch was welcome or not.

"are you quite alright?" the hand's voice asked. you looked up, half expecting to see a horror movie-style ghost. instead, however, you were met with angled features that were sharp, yet softened by visible concern at the same time. the boy's brown eyes were narrowed, and his hair looked a little wind swept.

okay. definitely a welcome touch.

"can you hear me? are you alright?" he repeated.

you snapped out of your stupor. "oh," you said dumbly. "i- i don't... know."

he cocked his head to the side, sympathy in the way he pursed his lips and his gaze became gentler. "what do you last remember?"

"...i was walking. and then... i wasn't? it's kind of black after that. i was laying down when i came to..." your eyes widened. you meant to ask, 'am i dead?', but instead what came out was a strangled, "oh my god."

"it is important to remain calm," edwin advised. "i can help you."

you nodded vigorously. "okay, yeah, i could use your help." especially because your voice was getting an octave higher with every word you spoke. so much for remaining calm.

before you knew it, the boy had guided you to a bench and sat you on it, plopping down right next to you as he waited for you to regain your composure. his arm was around yours, securing you snugly to his side - it was comforting.

"i'm dead, aren't i?" you intoned numbly.

he sighed. "yes. but that does not mean everything is over."

"earlier... everyone just passed through me. like i wasn't there at all."

"it is lonely, at first. but then it is not," he said. "take my case for example - my best mate is charles - he's dead as well - and we have two alive friends named crystal and niko, who are part of the small proportion of people who can see us. when you find the right people, it becomes very difficult to feel lonely."

"charles, crystal, and niko..." you repeated. "and what's your name?"

"edwin payne."

"nice to meet you, edwin. and thanks for helping. i'm [name]."

"not a problem," edwin said. "my friends and i are often in the habit of assisting ghosts, although you are the first recently dead i have personally come across in a very long time."

"how long?" you inquired. "i mean, when did you... kick the bucket?"

"1916," he told you gently.

your eyes widened. "riiight."

you fell silent again. as you were contemplating your current circumstances, several voices yelled edwin's name.

approaching you were three people. two girls - one with white hair, the other with curly brown - and a boy with near-black ringlets.

"edwin, mate, we couldn't find you anywhere!" the boy exclaimed.

"yes, well-" edwin began.

"who's this?" the white haired girl cut in, looking at you curiously.

edwin rolled his eyes fondly. "this is [name]. he recently... became a ghost."

"does he know any cool ghost tricks yet?" she asked.

you thought you felt a headache coming on.

"[name], these are my friends. niko, crystal, and charles." he gestured to them in order of mention. they all waved at you, even if the last two looked a bit wary.

"hi," you said meekly.

"we were just discussing the events of [name]'s death."

charles coughed pointedly. "maybe give the guy time to process he even is dead?"

"oh! my apologies, [name]. are you still feeling unwell?"

your eyes darted between crystal and niko as they exchanged glances at edwin's apology, like they were surprised. it confused you as to why - he seemed perfectly nice so far... and very charming.

"i'm good," you told edwin, flashing a smile. "i just... don't know where to go. i can't go back to my apartment, can i? i'm dead. it's not like i could continue living there."

"i read somewhere that it's good to revisit places from the past," niko informed you earnestly. "it can be very healing."

"hey, edwin, you should walk him back to his apartment!" crystal piped up.

"hm?" niko cocked her head at her friend. "oh! oh, yes, edwin, you totally should. you're a dead boy detective, after all. go help people!"

you thought you'd get whiplash trying to keep up with the conversation. "you're a what now-?"

edwid stood abruptly, brushing invisible dust off his coat. "perhaps i will walk [name] back to his apartment. if you feel inclined to." the last part was directed at you.

"oh- i wouldn't want to inconvenience you guys..." you said.

"nonsense." he held out a hand to you. "we are the dead boy detective agency, after all."

you still didn't know what that was, but you trusted edwin in spite of only having known him for less than an hour. so, you took his hand. you couldn't feel it, but the imagined weight and warmth of his palm against yours gave you comfort, dissipating the fear and apprehension inside you just a little bit.

⌦ --

the apartment building loomed above you. suddenly, it felt so big and intimidating - you felt no trace of excitement at the quaintness of it like you always had before. the reason you chose to live here was the brick walls and the carefully tended vines snaking along the front. not to mention, it was tall - 10 stories - and sort of reminded you of rapunzel's tower.

"ready?" edwin prompted.

you nodded, and let him pull you through the door - which you passed through with ease. you knew you were incorporeal at best in your current state, but you still cringed, bracing yourself for an impact that never came.

"it gets easier, eventually," edwin told you, having noticed your unease.

"yeah, okay," you said. and you were convinced. "i guess it'll help having an experienced ghost guide with me." you beamed at him.

his lips parted slightly in surprise. "i promise to do whatever i can to make this adjustment easier for you."

you chuckled. "edwin, you are honestly so charming..." you muttered to yourself as you headed towards the elevator. another reason you loved this complex so much was because you didn't have to conquer the 10 floors with just the stairs.

how did ghosts usually travel up places? you had no clue, but you were grateful that edwin kept silent at your decision to take the lift.

a 'ding' sounded and the doors parted open, instantaneously revealing the door that led to your room. your landlady had been kind enough to let you paint it a lovely burnt orange colour.

"that's me," you sighed. "c'mon."

your apartment was just as you remembered you left it this morning. not that you'd logically expected any change... but the fear-addled part of you had maybe been picturing a ransacked room, band posters ripped off the wall and all your ceramic cups shattered across the floor.

"this is weird," you voiced as you drifted from the door to the couch, then to the small kitchenette.

you shivered, not from the cold - you would never feel cold again, you thought, a bit hysterically - but from the all-encompassing grief you felt for yourself.

"i'm kind of sad i died. i know i'm still here... i'm not gone gone, or anything, but i'm still sad. is that weird?" you turned towards edwin, who was watching you with an unidentifiable look in his eyes.

"not at all." he put a hand on your shoulder. "there is much more to be done, even after your living time has expired." he paused, seeming to consider something. "i could... i could show you, if you would like."

"show me what?"

"the dead boy detectives' office," he said. "perhaps it will serve as a distraction."

warmth spread inside you, touched at his thoughtfulness. "that'd be great."

"excellent." edwin smiled, looking pleased. "do you have a mirror?"

your iron-tight grip on edwin's hand never ceased its hold, even after the two of you emerged from the other side of the mirror. panting, you gave your insides a moment to settle from the very jarring travel.

"that was so cool," you gasped. "even if it was unexpected. is this what niko meant by cool ghost tricks?"

"quite," edwin said. "now, welcome to the dead boy detectives' office. allow me to show you around."

his hand was still in yours, you noticed as he led you to a bookshelf and gave an overview of the different volumes it held. you made no move to pull away - partially because you didn't want to break his flow (you saw why he was so proud of it, and it was cute hearing him ramble), partially because you enjoyed the contact.

then, he showed you to a shelf that, if you didn't know any better, would have looked like a knick knack shelf, albeit one belonging to an eccentric grandma. on it were objects ranging from bones (human or not, you couldn't tell) to the rubber balls you found in vending machines.

"these," edwin proclaimed. "are the more interesting payments we have received. some enchanted, some not. i keep a document of which are and aren't."

he picked up a metal ring, with a dark sapphire gem in the middle. "like this, for example. it isn't enchanted, but it dates back to the edwardian era. when i was alive." he sighed wistfully, and lifted your hand, where your fingers were still intertwined. "may i?"

you nodded, watching his face. his eyes met yours, and he smiled shyly as he slipped the ring onto your finger.

"i acknowledge that we have only just become acquainted," edwin began. "but i have never become so fond of a boy this quick before."

"...so, in 21st century speak, you like me?" you questioned, half-teasing.

the two of you chucked in unison.

edwin cleared his throat. "yes, i think i do."

"then you won't mind if i..." you let the way you leaned down slightly finish your sentence.

"please," he said.

the kiss was chaste and fleeting, but it was enough for you to decide you definitely wanted to do it again.

"was that okay?" you checked in with edwin.

he nodded quickly. "yes, yes. very much so."

"good." you bit back a grin.

"would you like to stick around?" he blurted. "around the office, i mean, and with my friends and i. it isn't every day i meet a boy like you, and i... think i would rather like your company."

"i think i'd like your company, too," you admitted.

he held out a hand, making you laugh at the formality of it. "well then, welcome to the dead boy detectives' agency." he said. "i, for one, am very happy to have you here.”

[sunofpandora]

Virago: Chapter 3

Neteyam x fem na’vi!omaticaya!reader

Characters:

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

omaticaya clan. A teacher to young warriors undergoing iknimaya.

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

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

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

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

(WARNINGS!

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

Neytiri hating on spider/ mentions of insecurities, heartbreak, war,/ fluff/ angst/ mentions of hunting, killing animals, mentions of therapy, military, ptsd, romance, pining, use of military terms/codewords/  fluff ending!

Let me know if I missed anything.

Chapter desc:

Kiri convinced y/n to unload some of her lingering feelings for Neteyam. Y/n reveals that the incident all those years ago that took her parents scarred her deeper than she could have ever anticipated. Is this a battle the mighty archer can’t win? Neteyam has a confrontation with a pathetically simpering Kyuna. 

Authors note:

Here we go! Chapter 3!! It feels insane to be posting the actual third  chapter of this. But holy moly, building up romance is much harder than I thought. This chapter is a long one so grab your favorite snack, find a comfy spot and buckle up. 

I have a small request for my lovely virago readers, please comment on your favorite line, moment, quote, or dynamic from this chapter. This is so I can know what kind of stuff you guys incline towards so I can throw more of it in as the story continues.

IMPORTANT:

hi guys. So I’ve decided to change spiders age from 20 to 19 for plot purposes. Jake and Neytiri are the same age. Tuk is still 7. Kiri is 19, neteyam is 19, Lo’ak and Y/n are 18.

This chapter is split into 3 parts due to tumblers dumbass word limit. This is part 1.

                                                                   V I R A G O         

Chapter 3;

Cupid Wears A Blindfold.

Y/n’s pov-

Word count: 28k (split)

Lo’ak snores. He snores a lot.

This was no epiphany to you, of course. Lo’ak had always been a snorer, much like Jake.

Ever since the sully’s welcomed you into their home when moving to high camp, sleeping arrangements were always abit of a puzzle.

Tuk often slept in all sorts of weird positions. Often rustling and twitching in her sleep. Some nights she nestles her way in between Jake and Neytiri, the poor couple waking up to an elbow jabbing into their skin.

Kiri was your second best option. She didn’t toss or turn, she didn’t kick or jab or roll. Your only deterrent? Kiri mumbled. Oftentimes talking in her sleep to some soft sung spirit she felt within her own solace, her own safety, her own world.

This never found itself to be a disturbance for you. You didn’t mind the mumbling. Kiri however, claimed ‘she loved you too much to keep you up at night’, and wouldn’t hear a word of it when you tried to convince her that it didn’t bother you.

But it wasn't completely in favor of your sleep schedule. Kiri liked her privacy. And you knew that. Better than most, actually. But that’s what was special about your bond with Kiri. You didn’t need words to understand her. And she loved you for it.

I don’t think I need to explain why sharing a hammock with Jake and Neytiri seemed out of the question.

And though most nights it seemed tempting, sleeping with Neteyam was a no-go.

And here you laid. Staring at the ceiling of the Sully family’s tented Marui home, while everyone slept, you damned yourself restless. 

Lo’ak kept snoring in your ear, his breath hitting your neck.

His arm lazily thrown above both your heads, his leg sprawled across your shins. You huffed, attempting to turn the opposite way. The uneven weight caused the tent to dip unanticipatedly, causing you to gasp. Your hand reaches towards the wall to steady the motion, and to prevent you and lo’ak from falling.

You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a breath before shifting yourself evenly again, and Lo’ak continued to snore, his tail now poking your hip. 

Your ears perked up at the sound of a soft rustling, and a gentle yawn.

“Y/n?”

You turn your head, seeing a sleepy Kiri blink at you slowly, her bright golden eyes adjusting to the light.

“What’re you doing up?”

She rested on her elbows, elevating herself a bit to see you more clearly.

You sighed, glancing back at Lo’ak.

“Oh. You know. Just doing a little late night praying. Praying that eywa will take me before his snoring does.”

Your blank tone made Kiri giggle, stifling her laughs with her palm.

“Oh trust me. I've shared a tent with him longer than you have.”

Silence draws between you both as your quiet chuckles slowly start to simmer away under the dark tent top.

Kiri sits up slightly, gesturing with one hand for you to come closer.

You shake your head, hesitantly treading her offer. You knew how kiri liked her distance.

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You? A bother? Y/n, you’re probably the person in this entire tent that bothers me the least.”

You crack a smile, huffing out a small sigh of defeat.

You slip out of your hammock, slithering your way over small objects that became obstacles on the floor with stealthy yet lethargic motions. of the family’s home before successfully snuggling under the blanket of kiri’s larger hammock. Now comfortable without the cramped positioning.

She chuckled, rubbing your back. 

“Comfy?”

You nod, smiling at her.

“You're a lifesaver, Kiri. My hero.”

She ruffles your braids, winking.

“Nah. If anything, you are my hero.”

Kiri and you have always been close, ever since you were children. Your mother and Neytiri were practically attached at the hip, and since you, spider, and lo’ak were always a package deal, you and kiri had grown up playing together.

Kiri was softer spoken as a child, and you were loud and energetic. Your mother always said you were an ocean, and kiri was a lake. You, a soul syncing with the vigorous symphonies of azur-string reprised tidelines and honey-hidden siren songs. The ocean forgives, but it never forgets. Its strength is unmeasured. It waits for nothing.

Kiri was a lake. Lush green ripened grass sits along yellowed-tinted sun hazed stems of oddly-shaped wildflowers and imperfect patterns imprinted on petals. She was calm in the still moving water. You were the strength of the sea. 

You always felt protective over Kiri. 

A part of you couldn't help it. The day you and Kiri grew closer was the same day Jake had to meet with the Olo’eyktan of the Tawkami clan. The day the Chief’s children were teasing Kiri about her fingers. You and Kiri were about 8 at the time, and she really only saw you play around the village or carrying spider on your back as you trailed behind your mother and her daily chores. Or when your mom walked Lo’ak back to his family’s hut the morning after a sleepover with you and spider.

The day the Tawkami Chief’s children that accompanied him were picking and poking at Kiri’s fingers.

And where were you? Right there beside her. Threatening to feed the children to your mother’s ikran and telling them that your human brother would come and give them his demon blood “diseases” if they didn’t leave her alone.

They stopped picking on her, and she stuck by you from then on. Cause no one knew how to better handle bitchy 9 year olds than you did.

Kiri yawns, gently rolling on her side.

“Get some sleep, Y/n.”

You mumbled an ‘mhm’ before letting your eyes drift shut.

Its been about 15 minutes and sleep still evades you. The comforting vibrations of kiri’s warmth doesn’t seem to lull you like you assumed it would.

“Are you awake?”

Kiri whispered, and it startled you a bit. You assumed she was asleep.

You turned to face her and nodded. Her yellow eyes glowing evergreen tints in the darkness.

“Yes. But don’t let me keep you from sleeping, Kiri.”

She shrugs.

“I can’t sleep either.”

You both stay quiet for a moment, letting the silence settle.

 “So, Makeyo spoke with you today?”

The same uneasy feeling returns once again, you blink at Kiri.

You shook your head, your voice quiet as if not to disturb the air around you two.

“We were just talking.”

“About?”

Her whisper courses against the flicker of change in the wind.

You stay quiet once again. Not because its awkward, or uncomfortable.

Sometimes, you felt like there was a shackle chained to your wrist.

The memory of your parents still haunts you.

It shaded you in its prison of night, torturing you to watch the sunlight, but never touch it.

You didn’t love anyone.

And yet, whenever someone offered you their hand, it felt like a trap.

A mockery of betrayal climbs your conscience. It's a hue of warm yellow, drenched in crimson and an agonizing black.

Jake told you that back on earth, he fought with other humans in a war that seemed like it would never end.

Sometimes people come out of bloody experiences constantly trying to wash their body because the smell of blood never leaves their nose.

Jake said it haunts you. Like a ghost. Some of the men he met would wake up screaming in the middle of the night. They wouldn’t laugh as much. Smile as much. What once was a comfort was now a cold, daunting piece of lost memories.

It's everywhere. And it hurts. What hurts most is that you  can't protect yourself from it. Your arrows cannot pierce it. your hands cannot fight it away. 

It’s real in some uncanny sense of a nauseating nostalgia. The type of memory that makes you thin your eyes because it's too bright.

An invisible devotion, it holds you above its disposal.

It keeps you away from falling in love. From holding someone's hand. From laughing at another’s jokes. 

Sometimes you hate what you are. What  you’re made out of. Because your soul constantly fights to build yourself out of ripped pieces of the past.

Because all you ever hear is whispers about where that happy little girl went. The girl who chased sun-dripped river banks with the symphony of children’s laughter.

This pain follows you. 

When you wake from your nightmare’s it’ll sit in the corner. Watching you.

When someone flirts with you, touches your shoulder, brushes a strand of hair out of your face, it’ll be there.

What was the use of falling in love? As a child, you fantasized about having a love like your parents. So pure, so deep, so unexplainably perfect.

Only for them to die because of something you couldn't protect them from.

It’s not that you feared death. You feared the instantaneousness of it.

The unforeseen figment of a shape only for it to reveal itself to be a scythe.

They didn’t know it would happen, and neither did you.

And you weren’t fucking there. And now they are gone.

Never getting to watch you or spider grow to be full adults.  

Leaving their children without so much as a goodbye.

Your only true goal was to die honorably on the battlefield. If you couldn’t find peace, maybe your ghost could.

Love was a weakness.

And when you fall in love, the shell of that pain will disguise itself under their soul.

You  shrugged, your eyes averting away from Kiri. There's disconnected fatigue in your tone.

“He was nice.”

“Just nice?”

Kiri raises her eyebrow, scooting a bit closer to you.

You  sighed, unsure of how to carry on this conversation. So you’re grateful when she does it for you.

“He’s a good guy. I've seen him help you teach the younger kids. They love him, always trying to climb on his back and asking him to carry them around.”

You nod.

“He’s a good teacher..”

you trail off, fidgeting with one of 

Your  bracelets. The one tuk made you, the one with mismatched bead sizes and colors. Juvenile plotted patterns in the small vibrant hues.

Kiri snickers.

“He might have to get in line with all your other eager suitors.”

you roll your eyes, poking her with your tail.

It wasn't unusual that Kiri teased you about getting attention. 

Lo’ak’s friends sometimes whisper, quietly laughing and shoving each other as you walk by. It becomes hard not to notice as it becomes a frequent pattern.

Sometimes the guys in the hunting party Neteyam was often in, gently tapped each other on the shoulder, more subtly gesturing as you walked around camp or left for a ride, or even just helped with daily chores.

Their attempts usually deem themself futureless when Spider and Lo’ak glare at them, shoo them away the same way you would a pestering flock of birds.

Its a normality. Though spider was only a year older than you, he policed your love life just the same as any older sibling would. He didn't care that you were taller, stronger, bigger than him.

You scoffed.

“They’ll have to get through dumb and dumber first.”

Kiri huffed, annoyed with the two idiots in question.

“Don’t trust their judgment. They share one singular brain cell and it malfunctions half the time.” 

The both of you laugh, trying to keep quiet. You bury your face in Kiris shoulder as the hammock shakes with your giggles.

You both sigh after a moment, still smiling.

“I can’t blame them.  You’re perfect.”

She whispered.

There's a withering sense of somber behind her voice. It lacked bitterness, but it simmered on a ember, an ephemeral flicker of blue. The sounds of sloshed ash-blue sunsets and burnt-orange auras.

“I am not.”

You mumbled.

Kiri looked up at the top of the tented-hut. The small sparks of comforting vibrations from your bodies nuzzled under the woven blanket that allows only the softest of shivers to seize past the fabric.

“You remind me of my mother. The stories of her in her youth. The perfect woman. Strong, admired, sought out by many, envied by most..”

She trailed off.

If only kiri knew you didn’t feel like that at all.

“You’re my idea of perfection, Kiri.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

Kiri was pretty. You had to remind her of that sometimes. The way her golden eyes shined under a sheet of jaded-glowing evergreen, that of a hued green in a canvassed jungle canopy. Her uneven, choppy, imperfectly, perfectly shaped bangs that fell over her forehead, gentle wisps of dark feathered thick strands.

Kiri’s hair was slightly lighter than most na’vi women. You loved that about her, the almost dark auburn shades of brown that hollowed in chalked streaks of a honeyed glow, proving herself her biological mother’s daughter.

But the one thing you adored most about Kiri?

Her love for Eywa.

You could only envy it.

After the death of your mother, your once undying devotion for the great mother started to rot. You felt like she had failed you. Taken away the most precious piece of your soul and damned her name for tearing you apart and leaving you to pick up the pieces. 

You were angry those first few months, and you think differently now. But your breath still shallows at the thought.

Your smiles fade, and the air around you feels hollow for a moment.

“I wish i could see through your eyes, kiri.”

Kiri squeezed your hand, gently holding it to her chest.

“I know you’ve been hurt, Y/n. I know this pain is great..But the great mother has a plan for you. I believe it above all else.You are strong. Stronger than any spirit she has seen…You bring the wailing ash and fire of the demon ships to pity with just your arrowhead. We will heal together, y/n. I will teach you to find your faith again.”

You let your eyes flutter closed.

Your beautiful, sweet Kiri. This wasn’t romance. This was sisterly love in its purest form.

“..Do you ever think about him?”

The question stills you, you looked up at her and blink.

“Who?”

“My brother.”

The comforting warmth suddenly becomes a sweltering heave of heat. You swallow thickly, looking down.

“No.”

Kiri shakes her head.

“Please. Don’t lie to me, Y/n.”

There it is again, the hole in your heart.

“Yes. I think of him sometimes.”

Silence settles again.

“Is it wrong?”

You whisper.

Kiri shakes her head.

“No. its just that he doesn't deserve to live in your mind.”

Kiri loves her older brother. She truly does. But she was right beside you when he drifted away. Even ignoring him because she was angry with how he had treated you.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, cupping her hand in yours.

“I hate it.”

“Hate what?”

“How i feel like a piece of me is missing.”

Kiri’s eyes soften.

“Oh y/n…”

“No.”

Your voice breaks only slightly.

“No. because im better now.

I hated him. I hated his hands. I hated his voice. I hated his back. I hated his arms. I hated his neck. I hated his nose. I hated his ears. I hated when he promised to protect me, I hated when he left me crying in the rain. I hated that I waited for him. I hated that he promised all the stars in the sky were mine. I hated him.

I don’t hate him anymore. I hate the delusions of himself he put inside my head.

I hate how he weakened me.”

Kiri gently brushed some of your braids behind your shoulder

“Heartbreak doesn’t make you weak. If anything, it shows we had something inside of us so beautiful and rare it was worth mourning.”

You blinked back the fresh sting in your eyes. Taking a shaky breath.

“Oh my dear.”

Kiri whispered, hugging you close.

“Get some rest. You don’t need to think about anything right now, I promise.”

You nodded.

“Yeah. yeah okay.”

“You know what? In the morning let’s go bother norm for a bit. Would that make you feel better?”

You chuckled, hugging her back before you both settled in respective places in her hammock.

“It always does,”

Sleep soon found you, taking you in its arms and soothing the sweet darkness.

Across the tent, Neteyam laid awake, his hands clutching a blanket of his own, his body still tensed after what he had just heard.

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

The next day.

You liked hunting with Jake.

It was high on your list of some of the chores you enjoyed contributing with your new found life in high camp living with the sullies.

Spending time with jake was a bonus. Jake and your family went way back. Your mother was one of the only navi that welcomed him upon his unexpected arrival. She was the one who lended him an older loincloth for him to wear that first night he was captured and the omaticaya took away his RDA uniform, and while he had his first ever meal with the clan at high camp. 

Your mother also played a huge role in his journey to become a man of the omaticaya people.

Teaching him things like weaving, beading, and some of the language along with Neytiri.

Your mother was the one who constantly pestered neytiri about her growing feelings for the dreamwalker, helping her unbraid her hair for the nights he spent with jake, letting her cry, laugh, scream, like any good sister would.

Your mother and Neytiri mourned sylwanin together. And your mother grew closer with Mo’at and eytukan as mentors as well, despite neytiri and your mother not being sisters by blood, they loved each other just the same.

Jake and you had a good relationship. Jake often helped train the younger warriors, neteyam, you and lo’ak included.

You were always the fastest, the strongest out of the group, since you were 15.

Jake remembers when you were small. Carrying spider around and chasing lo’ak, bringing gifts to baby tuk, playing in the flower patches with neteyam and making him wear the bracelets and crowns you would braid out the stemmed petals.

Jake was there with you when your parents died, and he ws there when you moved into highcamp with the sully family.

He was there when you had nightmares and woke up in the middle of the night screaming,

You remember those nights, when the images of your mothers body would rip you from your sleep and you’d almost shake poor lo’ak out of the shared hammock with your sobbing and pleading.

You remember jake rushing to you, gently holding you by your shoulders, gently utting your head to his chest.

‘Sweetheart hey- hey i’m here. Mawey, Mawey..easy- easy…there we go. Deep breaths..’

The hoarse tiredness in his voice as oddly comforting.

You remember shaking your head, settling yur breathing as the tears began to flow.

“I-i’m sorry..it was just another bad dream.”

“Hey. never apologize for having a nightmare. You’re okay. You’re safe here. Okay? C’mon. Let's take a walk-that’ll calm you down.”

You trusted jake. You always have. Even today, in the present. So of course you liked hunting with him.

But most of all? You loved flying.

Your ikran was your spirit brother, sometimes even following your commands without tsaheylu. 

The bond you had was strong, stronger than most ikran’s are capable of.

And the best part? He had a temper just like you did. The first time you almost met death was your iknimiya. 

Your ikran threw you off the cliff, and then flew down to attack you further.

Jake and Neytiri had to hold Neteyam back from swooping into save you.

But you did it. You completed your rite and claimed Kailo as your own.

And you soared with him now, above the clouds, barely containing the smile etched on your face as the wind whips through your braids.

You loved heights. You loved how infinitely endless the sky seemed, burning with blasts of azure or an early morning blaze of fire-hued sunrises, or the cold warmth of the rain that refused to fall within the stars.

Revered by the scattered songs of synodic vespers and requiems of rainstorms. The sky cannot be caged. It cannot be concealed or hidden, it is your sanctuary, enraptured by effortless divinity and strength.

Your ikran let out a shrill and you pet its neck.

“Easy, Kailo..”

You hummed, looking over to jake, who sat atop his own companion, Bob. His dreads caught in the wind behind him as he waved for your attention.

“y/n!”

The wind carried his volume.

“I think we should take a break. In an hour or two the yerik herds will come to the river bank. Let’s law low in the woods.”

“Yes sir.”

You gently kicked Kailos' side, tilting the reins to descend after Jake into the forest, weaving around trees and foliage.

You laugh as a gust of wind trails you and Kailo, almost throwing Jake off his line of flight. Kailo was one of the fastest ikran your clan had ever seen. At least, that’s what the elders of the clan had told you.

Lo’ak was often jealous of spider because spider always got free rides on Kailo. You land before Jake, hopping off Kailo’s back and petting his neck.

“Mawey, tsmukan”

(calm, brother.)

Jake landed after you, the sound of ikran wings announcing his arrival. He climbed down right after you, patting the neck of his own Ikran, bob.

Jake spotted some Yovo fruit trees up ahead, cutting you both down a few as you both sat down on some rocks for  snack break.

Jake leaned back, handing you a half of his own fruit as you muttered a small thank you.

His eyes wandered, as he glanced up at the trees, as if his gaze had become conscious of every shape and sound that surrounded him.

“I remember this place.”

Jake uttered in a soft hum in the air, his line of sight tracing around the figment of  nostalgic fixation in the air.

You raised an eyebrow, munching on your fruit.

“Here? At this spot?”

Jake nods, nudging your shoulder with his knuckles. Pointing to the source of the sound of trickling water.

“The pond. Back when I was training for iknimaya. Way before your time.”

He smirked, as if it was something to brag about.

You rolled your eyes,

“Oh goody. Another one of grandpa's war stories.” 

Jake chucked a Yovo fruit at your head but you caught it effortlessly, not even glancing.

“I’m not that old.” he huffs, clearly impressed at your  heightened reflexes.

You chuckled, flipping your knife in your hand to withdraw it from its place in the sheath on your hip to cut open the fruit.

“Can’t move it like you used to, huh pops?”

“You know, I could have you banished.”

“Than who would save Lo’ak next time he wants to play tag with a thanator?”

Jake ruffled your braids in response to your surmise, clearly holding back a smile.

“Where would I be without ya, kid?”

You shrugged, handing him another half of the freshly cut fruit.

“Probably in one of those healing homes back on earth.”

“You mean nursing homes.”

“Same thing.”

Jake shook his head, letting out a sigh, knowing it was probably spider who taught you such a term.

He glanced around again, brushing in the scenery.

A silence commences between you both, the soft shrills and distant flap of wings within the deep jungle is the only sound that demands attention.

Jake speaks softly, breaking the silence with fragile, yet scrambled steps.

“She never fails to take my breath away.”

You look up at him, watching as he leaned back against the tree, letting his eyes flutter closed.

“Who?” you whisper.

“Pandora.”

He hums in response.

you often forgot Jake wasn’t from this planet. That his true home could only be seen as the sirius among scattered stars. What was it like? Seeing your home from below? The only thing worth touching is the implacable incarnation of your memories.

To hide what was left of yourself, a mere ghost that lingered in the wrinkled corners of your mind.

“What was it like..your home?”

You whispered.

Jake’s ears perk up, his eyes landing on you as he sat up slightly.

He stayed quiet for a moment. Staring up at the sky, his finger gently tracing one of the stripes on his leg as his gaze remained absent.

“It’s like living on a skeleton.”

When he finally speaks, it's quite literally the last thing you would have guessed he would say.

You raised your eyebrow.

“A skeleton..?”

He nodded.

“Earth is just a shell. Like the carcass of an animal. A corpse, almost.”

“I don’t understand.”

He nodded, scooting a bit closer to you, starting to speak again.

“Earth used to be beautiful. So many colors you couldn’t count them all.” 

You nodded, trying to imagine the formless figment of a world in which you’ve never seen.

He closed his eyes, as if trying to remember.

“There was light, lots of it. The air, the sun, the stars…”

You blinked at him.

“What happened to it?”

Jake paused, something creeping behind the orbs of his irises. It's a sickening dark shade of a color he can’t remember, but its bitter aching bones are enough to weaken the courage of a once strong rhythmic heartbeat.

It’s a shadow of an echo. Gutted inside something hollow and carved out of shivering pulses running to a soured stillness.

“Humans will take until nothing is left. They will gawk at the lights of a stupid billboard instead of noticing the dying grass under their feet.”

What's a billboard? 

You thought, but decided not to ask.

You stayed quiet, staring at the ground.

“That’s why they want this planet. Because they killed their old one.”

Jake nods, sighing almost regretfully.

“They think the na’vi is their greatest enemy, when really, the ones who have killed the most humans are…well, more humans.”

You can’t imagine it. Taking a life without regarding the soul you have soiled. Does the red on their hands not sting their eyes?

And that's when you realized it.

Death hummed shallowly in its own pulsating methods. But even the devil has an advocate.

You killed. You have killed many. And it doesn’t seem to register until that very moment. You never thought to count the number of raids you had accompanied your clan on, Jake appointed you as his main archer when you were only 15.

When rage and grief overshadowed the shallowness of sunlight all you wanted to do was avenge.

An untamed anger was born in you when your parents died. And you swore every arrow you ever shot was in their names.

Zensira.

Kai’lik.

Zensira.

Kai’lik.

How would they look at you now? 

Their little girl. The little girl they loved. Their beautiful, beautiful precious girl who loved to hear her mother sing. Their little girl who loved to carry your big brother spider around, (because your big brother wasn’t so big compared to you.)

Who loved to visit the pond and play with lo’ak. Who liked to make bracelets with kiri and get thrown into the lake by your dad, tossing around your small body when you were 7 as you squealed through the freshwater air.

A killer.

“Y/n? Y/n. Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

Jake placed a hand on your shoulder, but his touch felt cold.

Jake’s voice sounded like your head was under water. Blurred, distant sounds.

Your breath becomes shallow, but you weren’t hyperventilating. You were just…still.

What if you had failed them? What if they were watching you right now?

Knowing you had killed. Not hunted.

Hunting was for survival. To feed your family, your friends, your clan.

This was killing. This wasn’t a need. It was a want. A want for vengeance.

Were you even a na’vi at all? Killing without respect for life even if they were a human.

Your mother forgave. Your father forgot.

And what were you? A disgrace of everything they stood for.

Your voice came out like a whisper. Every thought and feeling swirling around in your head. Despite your silent panic, the air felt eerily calm, and almost mocking ambience.

“Did I disappoint them?”

Jake stilled for a moment, rubbing your back.

“Who?”

“All of them.”

“All of them?”

You swallowed thickly.

“Y/n..you know you can talk to me, right?”

You nodded, staying quiet for a moment as you stared down at your shaking hands.

“Am I a bad person?”

Jake’s eyes widen a bit for a moment, his hand slowly withdrawals from its place on your shoulder.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because sometimes I like the way pain feels.”

Something clicked for Jake at that moment. 

Where you saw your hand bloodied by a manic anger and bones with regretful splintered scars, Jake saw a shadow. A shadow of a distressed consciousness that he once acquainted himself with.

Jake was no stranger to products of war. Even when those products were souls losing their vibrancy. The colors fading into hardened flesh.

Jake had seen war turn people into hollow shells. Unheard prayer scattered and dissipated under a blood-stained sky.

Jake finally spoke, but his words, slow and somber, treaded a steeper meaning.

“You aren’t a bad person, Y/n. You’ve been hurt. Hurt by people even eywa cannot forgive.”

You shook your head, the threat canvassed along perpetual doubts.

“I don’t know why I’m like this.”

You admitted.

Jake places his hand back on your shoulder again.

“Sometimes people like us, soldiers, we start to like the pain because we think it’s the only thing we'll ever deserve. But we don’t like it at all. Not really.”

You can almost see it. The stars are falling again. The tapestry thread being pulled mercilessly. The colors are falling. The sun is turning cold. 

You had to catch them. You had to chase the colors or else they would abandon you again.

Your reflection seems distorted. Liquid glass in the taunting shape of a little girl.

A little girl who knew no bloodshed. No war. No pain. No anger.

You would never be that little girl again. And its all your fault. You wanted to kill someone after your parents died. You wanted to kill every single human that worked for the RDA or even set foot on their base.

It’s sick.

It’s wrong.

It’s vile.

But its you. This wreckage of scars and bruises, tattered tapestries and broken bird songs, its all you.

That all too familiar sting hit the back of your throat, you could feel your gaze numbing.

“I’m beyond fixing.”

You whispered.

“No one is beyond fixing.”

He promised.

“Can you take some deep breaths with me? Just a few, Y/n.”

You followed his instructions, and the red started to simmer away. The air felt forgiving once again, and your throat started to feel normal once again.

You spoke again finally, after a few moments of silence.

“Maybe I should have my na’vi card revoked.”

You chuckled dryly.

Jake patted your back. “You and me both, kiddo.”

“What you feel is normal.”

He added.

“That anger. That vengeance.”

You glanced up at him. “Na’vi are supposed to solve conflict peacefully first. War is just a last resort.”

Jake scoffed.

“I think we’ve reached the last resort awhile ago, Sweetheart.”

You went to speak, but were quickly cut off.

“y/n you are not some kind of psychopath. You don’t kill for no reason. You kill to protect. You fight because something dear to you is threatened, that's what makes a warrior true to their heart, their clan.”

His words eased your anxiety a bit. But the shadow behind the sun still creeped disguised under the warmth of forgiveness.

“I’m not a bad person. I don’t know why I want them to feel pain.”

You whispered.

Sometimes you wondered if pretending to be made out of stone means you’d still break like glass.

War was the type of calm that tranquilized. Drugged you into delusions of comfort.

Somewhere inside you was that little girl. She hates you. She hates you with all her heart.

Somewhere inside you is that 15 year old that’s waiting for neteyam in the rain you swear is just falling stars. She hates you. She hates you with all  her heart.

Somewhere inside you is your mothers daughter. Wondering who did this to you.

You didn’t like violence But you were prone to it. 

You didn’t like war. But you're afraid of the day it no longer has a use for you.

War ruined you. Because war made you angry. And anger tortured you.

You weren’t deserving of sunlight, maybe that's why you familiarize yourself with the bleakness of dusk.

Maybe that’s why you loved Neteyam.

Maybe that’s why you hated yourself.

Maybe that’s why you’ve trained yourself with blood stains and tear tracks.

Your mother was forgiving. She adopted a human child after watching her family die, and hometree fall.

She devoted herself to eywa, a woman true to the kindness of her heart and the flame of forgiveness.

She had seen fire and escaped it.

You had seen fire and burned with it.

The shackles on your wrist. The burning in your throat.

You were a child forced into a warrior.

And maybe it was time to heal, but why didn’t it allow you?

This shadow oppressed you. And maybe this prolonged insanity was a good sanctuary to be understood, not severed. Your bones were made of seared iron, the fissure of a once porcelain excellence.

War had ruined you. And ruined things didn’t deserve to be loved.

Jake pulled you close to him, wrapping an arm around you, you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“You’re one of the fucking strongest people i know. You know that?”

He whispered, and the simplicity of his touch settled an almost agonizing comfort.

“Can you fix me?”

You whisper.

Jake shook his head.

“Y/n.  You are not something to be fixed. You need to be healed. And I know you can do it. And we’ll be right beside you the whole damn time.”

You let yourself close your eyes.

“You're a soldier, kid. Just like me. A fighter.  It’s all we think we know, all we think we’ll ever deserve. We swear to live and die on that battlefield.”

You nod.

“Sometimes it feels like the battlefield is the closest to home.”

Jake speaks once more,

“Until you find someone who feels a little closer.”

By the way he smiled softly, you knew he was talking about Neytiri.

You leaned further into his shoulder, and he patted your back.

“You know, back on earth, we have a special way of dealing with cases like these. Soidlers who need trauma relief.”

You blinked at him, immediately intrigued.

“You do? How?”

“Therapy.”

You tried the strange human word out on your tongue.

“Ther…ah…pey- There-a-pay-”

“Therapy.”

Jake corrected gently.

“What’s that?” You asked, as Jake stood up, putting his knife back in his sheath.

“Its where you go to someone who can help you talk things out. Iv’e seen a few back in my days. Military psychologists are what we call em’.”

You raised your eyebrow.

From spending time with max, norm, and spider, you knew that humans had a different way of dealing with their feelings than na’vi did. But this new information peaked your interest.

“How can i find one?”

Jake paused.

That’s a damn good question.

He thought to himself.

He hummed for a moment, petting bobs neck and you put your bow back in its place on your saddle.

“How about this, every few days, you and I can meet.”

Jake proposed.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Where?”

He shrugged. “Anywhere you want. We can go to one of the mountains, or the stream, or the caves, whatever. It can be private. And we can talk like you would to a therapist.”

You considered it for a moment, but after all, maybe this would fix you.

You shook on it and agreed.

“Deal.”

Jake ruffled your braids and smiled.

“Attagirl. Lets get moving. Those yerik are probably at the lake by now. I’ll race you.”

You mounted Kailo, rolling your eyes.

“I don’t abuse the elderly.”

“Oh fuck off i’m not that old.”

You faked a wince as jake mounted Bob.

“Oo, careful grandpa. You shouldn't be moving too much like that.”

Jake flipped you off.

“Kiss the darkest side of my blue as-”

Before he could finish, You and Kailo took to the skies. 

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

Back at high camp..

Neteyam’s pov:

Lo’ak groaned as he laid in his hammock.

Today felt like small pieces had been torn out of it. The absence of my father, my mother, Kiri and Y/n all contributed to this unease.

It fascinating how easily little pieces of things leave something so unstructured when certain routines in your life undergoes a sudden cessation. Only fragments of familiarity keep me company today.

Oh, yeah. That and Lo’ak’s bitching.

I’m never one to complain. Not really. But Lo’ak…He was my personal acception.

I’ve been stuck with him since this morning. My father took Y/n out to hunt early before I awoke, and my mother and Kiri have gone to assist my grandmother in the Tsahik tent. Lo’ak lost his flight privileges after that little stunt he pulled during the raid, and I don’t feel like going anywhere alone. I offered to join my father last night on his hunt this morning, but my father insisted he and Y/n go hunting alone.

I offered to help my grandmother, but Kiri beat me to it. My mother asked me to stay home and start preparing for tonights meal. So here i was hunched over chopping up root vegetables while I was stuck in this void we called home. I felt detached today. Like the world just floated around me while I remained rooted like a weathering tree.

My accidental overhearing over my sister and Y/n talking last night is still fresh on my mind.

“Dude..I think you’re done with that one.”

Lo’ak’s voice finally reaches my ears.

I lift my head, and he points down to where i had clearly been so distracted, i had diced the poor vegetable into tiny pieces, too small to be cooked over a fire. They would shrivel away in the smoke.

I threw them to the side, trying to refocus.

“What is up with you today?” Lo’ak interrogates instead of asking. I keep my eyes down, shrugging.

“Nothing. Why?”

He shrugs, mocking my movements, leaning back in his hammock, leaving his leg to dangle, his toes brushing the ground.

“Dunno. You just seem kinda…off?”

I sigh, scraping the new batch of chopped vegetables off the carved board i was cutting them on and into the wooden bowl with my knife.

“Just a bit tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night”

Technically, that wasn’t a lie. Which seems in my favor, if you remember from earlier, I’m a shit liar. 

Memory was a funny thing. It claws at your mind until you grant it consciousness, and then it romances itself with such scandalous notions. Unforgiving us for ever dreaming of forgetting.

It wants to awake something in us that we can only pray stays dead.

I knew I shouldn't have been listening to Y/n’s words. I knew I should have been asleep.

But know that it’s found me, it captures me.

I want to exist in her mind not only as a figment, because there’s one particular part that is beating the shit out of me.

‘I don’t hate him anymore. I hate the delusions of himself he put inside my head.’

I used to think she only hated me. Hated me for my ignorance, my hesitance, my fear.

I hated it too.

But no. She hated me because she thought i lied to her, gave her something so precious, so inexplicably binding only to shatter it infront of her eyes.

My love for her was never a lie. It was never a joke, or a ruse, or a figment in this phantom of longing that looms over me. 

I couldn’t allow this to go on any longer. That I knew for sure.

Unfortunately, getting to Y/n was a wall i couldn’t seem to climb.

When she wasn’t out hunting or strategizing air strikes with my father, she was with spider, and Spider didn’t let me go within 5 feet of Y/n.

I had to admire him for it, despite him becoming a vicissitude in the middle of my current mission, I had to give him some slack as a fellow oldest sibling.

If anyone had hurt kiri, or tuk (when she came of age to engage in such ‘romantic affairs’) ,  if anyone hurt them the way I hurt y/n, I’d probably have to put my mother’s years of archery lessons to use. Granted, My father would probably skin the poor bastard and wear him as a coat before I even got a chance.

I can’t blame him for protecting Y/n. 

I try to think further as i continue chopping, my tail flicking behind me.

I decide Kiri is my best option. I’ll find her when she returns from Tsahik’s tent. Eywa please, just give me one chance. I swear i’ll-

“Where’s Tuk?”

Lo’ak suddenly pipes up, he probably got bored with his own laziness.

I glance up at him as i scarped off my knife.

“Kyuna picked her up this morning to take her to play with popiti for the day.”

Lo’ak raised an eyebrow.

“Kyuna?”

I nodded, not looking up.

“Your new mate?”

I don’t like the way he said ‘new mate’. As if i had one in the first place.

I shake my head, slightly annoyed.

“She’s not my mate. I’m not interested in kyuna.”

“Tuk said-”

“Tuk doesnt know what shes talking about.”

Lo’ak shrugs, leaning back to sit up a bit, looking at me with skeptical eyes.

“What’s really going on with you?”

“I don’t know what you speak of.”

He scoffs. “I’m not stupid, Neteyam. You’re acting off. You have all morning, all day, and even now. Whats the deal?”

I place my knife down, glaring at my brother.

“I don’t owe you an explanation. Okay?”

The tent falls silent, and I continue on with my chores, I hear Lo’ak mutter a small apology under his breath. I cave.

“No, I’m just tired..I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

Lo’ak nods, fidgeting with his songchord.

“If you don’t want kyuna…You aren’t thinking about Y/n. right?”

Lo’ak was more than displeased when I started courting y/n. And he didn’t try to hide it either.

Lo’ak loves y/n. Not romantically. But he loves her. 

It’s the kind of closeness that isn’t sex or intimately deep.

Lo’ak always felt like the distant star in our family. The one who strays from the perfect rotation of each patterned path.

His hands were stained with hunger. Imperfect painted sun blood stained skies.

Lo’ak’s trust in us was ghostly and transluscent. He didn’t always feel like he fit the shape carved for him.

Lo’ak’s imperfect edges, sharpened and rough, scarred and edged to a point.

He found his place between Spider and Y/n. His bestest friends. Two people he would die for.

Found his own sky.

Dark blue and purple hues and the warmth of pale moonlight, he found his place.

When Lo’ak found something that accepted him, he protected it with his life.

And I can’t blame him. Being in love your brother's best friend is awkward. 

Lo’ak was afraid of me stealing that away from him.

Of me invading his circle.

The reality of a sacrifice is an odd, unevenly constructed abstraction.

People don’t think I was born from my mother, rather I was carved from stone and polished to a pristine hue of gold.

My parents expected me to build myself wings and fly further than anyone had ever tried.

When the line wasn’t perfectly straight, it was erased and made a new slate. Blank. Perfect. Spotless.

And sometimes, I’m not neteyam to my parents.

I’m my mother, just a younger version.

I am my father, worn thin from a war and plagued by my past promises.

I’m just a shell of something that was no more. Something to refill with their own pieces of the past.

My skin and soul is only stitched out of parts of them. But only the unscathed parts.

Anything that dared to be less than that was indescent. Unworthy of the light.

My mother’s anger, my fathers guilt, was a far too discolored shade to be seen in the sky.

My existence was like a kaleidoscope of muted colors. A prism turned prison.

I think I’ve forgotten how to slouch. How to sit with an unwelcome posture. How to fidget and how to fantasize.

My entire life is full of sacrifices.

Sacrificing y/n for my future.

Sacrificing my brothers best friend. My future mate.

But I’ll be damned if I loose her again.

So, I lie for the second time.

“No. I wasn’t thinking about y/n, idiot.”

Lo’ak nods,

Leaning back, closing his eyes. I mentally high five eywa because he doesn’t interrogate me further.

“You know, instead of taking a nap, you could be helping me.”

I huff, and fight the urge to roll my eyes, and he sighs dramatically.

“Neteyam, I’m too pretty for slave labor.”

I throw a vegetable at his head and he hisses in pain.

“Fuck you. That’s sibling abuse.”

He whines.

“I’m about to abuse my responsibilities with this knife if you don’t get up off your lazy ass and do something useful with your existence.”

I point my knife at him and he groans, standing up and leaving the hammock.

“Easy there, big bro. Spider will be here soon.”

I raise my brow, an uneasy feeling settling in my chest.

“Spider? Here?”

He nods.

“Yeah. We have chores to do too, ya know.”

I shake my head, slicing the new vegetable horizontally, watching the colored juices trickle down the roots and stain the cutting board.

“No. Not here. You know how mother feels about spider.”

Spider was my mother’s foil. An old term our father taught us.

My mother owed Zensira her life. And she swore to her a long time ago, that if anything happened to her or ka’lik, she would step up to be a mother to y/n, the same went for my father.

But Zensira didn’t have one child. She had two. Spider was not biologically her child, but he was treated like her son all the same. Living in Y/n’s family’s tent, being cared for, the same way any mother would nurture a child.

My mother made promises for y/n. But she never made any for spider.

I don’t think she ever will.

To her, he was a demon. And alien. The type of animal with no hope of survival, but refuses to die. Remains unyielding even under the unwelcoming atmosphere of pandora.

He was an actor. A pathetic excuse of a performance.  A pale child painted blue.

My mother loves y/n the same way she loves tuk and Kiri. Would go the same lengths for her as she would for any of her children, and the same thing applies to my father.

Spider was allowed everywhere in high camp except our family’s hut.

My grandmothers hut was an exception, because it was a communal place in our clan. 

But my mother refused to have any sky demon’s presence scathe the memories of her home. Her only safe place. Where she raised her children and started her new life.

That’s probably why Lo’ak spent so much time at Y/n’s hut when he was little. It was one of the only places he could be comfortably with both Y/n and Spider at the same time.

“You know how mom feels about spider in the hut.”

Lo’ak’s expression is blanked with disinhibited concern and a genuine lack of guilt.

“Mom isn’t here. She’ll be gone all day. Plus, we’re making y/n some new arrows. She’s on that group hunt tonight.”

I crossed my arms.

“And who allowed you to mess with her supplies?”

Lo’ak scoffed. Placing his hands on his hips with a cocky grin.

“The mighty archer herself. I’ve been appointed by Y/n and tasked with a very important job. Who am I to decline her?”

“Just make sure he isn’t here for long. She can smell him if he’s been in here. You know mom’s senses.”

Lo’ak waves me off, standing to his feet, grabbing the small baskets of purple and red feathers y/n used for the fletching of her arrows, and starts to tie them to the shaft of the arrow.

Spider joined him not long after, the two if them sat in the middle of the tent, crafting arrows and talking.

Spider glanced at me after finishing another arrow.

“So where is everyone today?”

“Father took Y/n hunting. My mother and Kiri are assisting grandmother- and Tuk is with popiti.”

Spider raised an eyebrow at me, his mask fogging up momentarily with each breath.

“Who? Popiti?”

Lo’ak rolled his eyes.

“Kyuna’s little sister.”

Spider nodded in realization, then his expression soured.

Lo’ak snorted. “Neteyam’s new mate.”

“For the 5th time, she’s not my mate.”

Spider chuckles along with him and I swear i’m losing neurons from just breathing the same air as Lo’ak and Spider.

Or really, just Lo’ak.

I stood to my feet as i heard footsteps outside. Tuk must’ve  finished up her activities with Popiti for the day.

Usually, It was An’kora. Popiti’s mother, who walked Tuk home in the afternoons.

But when I opened the flap. I’m faced with a face that isn’t my little sister, her braids slightly disheveled from a day of wild fantasies and games of tag. 

A na’vi girl, with mid length braids and a beaded top smiles at me so sweetly it’s sickening. 

You know those kinds of people that you've known since your childhood, and you always knew in one way or another, they would grow up to be assholes?

Yeah. That's Kyuna.

Kyuna was the girl that never let Spider or Kiri, Or Lo’ak play any of her games because of their ‘sky people germs'. 

Kyuna was the girl that told everyone not to sit next to Y/n in the communal lessons we attend as children, telling everyone that she lived with a human boy who gave her diseases.

She does this thing where she laughs into her hand, and leans on the person closest to her, expecting them to allow her access nto their personal space as if the world had her name written on it.

She bows slightly, her movements unnecessarily exaggerated as she raises her two fingers to her forehead and dips them down.

“Oel ngati kameie, Neteyam.”

I return the gesture, nodding at her.

“Kyuna. It’s good to see you.”

No it’s not.

She bats her eyes at me, and my annoyance only simmers away when a familiar smaller na’vi body slams herself into my leg, pressing her head into my hip.

I chuckle softly, ruffling Tuk’s braids.

“Hey Tuk-Tuk. Did you have a fun time?”

I pat her shoulder as she opens her mouth to speak, her big eyes sparkling before she’s cut off by a shriek-like voice.

“Oh she had tons of fun! Her and Popiti just ran around for hours playing their silly little games.”

When you're an older sibling, you start to catch onto things. You start to memorize your younger siblings' habits, mannerisms, movements, even the slightest twitch of their tail. 

Tuk was a creature of habit. And I could tell by the way she gently tugged on my loincloth, and the way she tucked herself behind my arm, she was uncomfortable.

I reach my hand out, and she takes it within a split second, gently borrowing herself in the space behind me.

I lean down a bit, keeping my hand in it’s place on her shoulder.

“Are you hungry? Why don’t you go on inside, yes? Spider and Lo’ak are already sitting. I’m sure Lo’ak would love to make you some seed-leaf wraps.”

Her tail flicks at the mention of her favorite snack, and she finally cracks a smile, before jogging inside.

“She’s adorable. Isn’t she??”

Kyuna sighs in an almost dreamily manner, I stand up straight again to face her.

“My mother was informed An’kora was taking Tuk home today. Did something come up?”

She waves me off, ridding my concern from the air.

“Mother got tied up on foraging duty. I figured I'd watch the girls and walk Tuk home.”

I nod, slowly. “Ah. Well, thank you for taking her home.”

She smiles, tilting her head like a viperwolf begging for scraps.

“Oh. No need to thank me. She’s precious, that little Tuktirey.”

I never liked the way she talked about my sister. Her tone was almost mocking, as if she was describing a doll or some kind of inanimate object. 

“Well. I should get going. I don’t trust lo’ak alone with the firepit and Tuk is probably hungry-”

“My father wanted me to invite you on his next hunt. Are you free midday tomorrow?”

I wasn’t surprised when she offered. It’s all she talked about the last 4 times I had saw her.

The one time I did agree, all the man would talk about was what kinds of flowers Kyuna liked, and how no one had courted her yet.

My eywa, I wonder why.

There’s an unsteady rhythm that inhabits itself in my chest. The kind that sets off warning signals in your brain.

I scratch the back of my head awkwardly, my knuckle brushing my tswin.

“It’s a kind offer, really. But I’m already expected to join the night hunt tonight. The one led by y/n and my father.”

She stared at me with some notion of unrequited enamour, and I almost feel bad for her.

“I’m sorry. Maybe another time?”

She nods, her tail swishing behind her.”

“Of course. I’d expect nothing less from the future olo’eyktan of our clan.”

The emphasis on my title seems almost slurred, and my body instinctively takes a step back the moment she takes a step forward.

“Yes, well, my training has only been increasing.”

“Such a strong warrior. A man of the people. I’m surprised you don’t have the women of our clan falling at your feet. Oh, wait You do!”

Why was she yelling? I’m literally two feet in front of her.

I shifted uncomfortably on my feet.

“I should get back inside, kyuna.”

“One more thing, Neteyam?”

I don’t turn my body fully towards her, but my eyes focus on her figure nonetheless.

“There’s been rumors.”

Something twists in my stomach the moment she says that. Like a static running blank. Or soundwaves straightening into lines.

“What?”

“People talk. And there’s been word that the future olo’eyktan of our people will never find his tsahik.”

I groan, dragging my palm down my face.

“Don’t bother me with such matters, Kyuna. All this talk of the future that is too far away to be treading towards. My father is too stubborn to give up his place that fast. He will remain olo’eyktan for a long time before I take his place.”

She shrugs, crossing her arms.

“All i’m saying is..”

She takes another step, her chest nearly touching mine.

“You are wanted for more than you think. The women of this clan practically swoon over the thought of being by your side, and you haven’t even blinked at them.”

I click my tongue, averting my eyes.

“My future mate is none of your business. Nor is it the clans. Not now, at least.”

She goes to speak; but before she can utter her next words, Lo’ak came stumbling out of the tent with a less than pleased expression on his face.

“Bro.”

He tugs on my arm, gagging exaggeratingly.

“Tuk threw up- it’s a mess in there. Whatever Kyuna fed her is NOT sitting well.”

I blink at my brother, but it quickly registers that something wasn’t right.

“Are you sure? She seemed fine when she came home-“

“Dude. I know barf when I see it.

She must have ate something bad at Popiti’s.”

Kyuna was stunned, crossing her arms in an offended manner.

“I beg your pardon? Tuk didn’t eat anything at my place today.”

Lo’ak scoffed.

“Uh huh. Sure. You’re probably just trying to poison my sister. Aren’t you? Our father will be hearing about this!”

My main concern at the moment is Tuk.

“Excuse me-“

I muttered to Kyuna as an excuse for a goodbye, shoving past Lo’ak to my family’s tent, expecting to see a poor Tuktirey doubled over, regurgitating what was either late breakfast or early lunch, when instead all that comes into view is Tuk sitting cross-legged next to spider, as he starts methodically picking out some of the different seeds from the assorted bowls we used to prepare our meals. As he sat making leaf wraps for a suspiciously fine looking Tuk.

I crouched down next to her, feeling her forehead and keeping a hand gently on her back.

“Are you okay, Tuk?”

She nodded, blinking up at me.

My eyes flicker up when Lo’ak enters the tent, whistling as if nothing just happened.

“Lo’ak, Tuk seems fine..”

I trail off.

He winks at me.

“Your welcome. Kyuna left us in peace.”

Pain in the ass or not, I have to admit, Lo’ak was smarter than we give him credit for.

when I finally finished peeling the vegetables, I left them in their basket and enjoyed a break with Tuk, Lo’ak, and Spider.

We all sat eating Spider’s very poor excuse of a seed-leaf wrap. But they worked, for some odd reason no one could place.

Spider didn’t eat, because of his mask, so i guess he settled for conversation.

“So, Tuk. How was your playdate?”

Tuk nods eagerly, talking through a mouth full of seed-wrap.

I reach for the extra cloth in my loincloth pocket, letting her wipe her mouth before speaking normally again.

“It was fun. But I don't think I like Kyuna anymore.”

Lo’ak scoffed, high fiving tuk.

 “Put er’ there sis. Neither do I. She’s a bitch.”

“Lo’ak. Language.” I scold, smacking his head lightly.

He rolls his eyes.

“Fine. Shes a B-I-T-C-H. Better?” Spider laughs. Leaning back.

Lo’ak shoves him.

“Oh and what’s so funny? Mr, ‘i’m afraid of women’?”

Spider shakes his head, raising his pointer finger to poke lo’aks chest.

“Correction. I’m afraid of your mother and Y/n.”

“Everyones afraid of Y/n.”

I ignore Lo’ak and Spider’s bickering, turning my attention to Tuk.

“Was Kyuna bothering you?”

She shook her head, taking another bite. Speaking through a mouth full of food

“Nuh-uh. But she kept asking me if you were home, and if you had received any courting gifts yet, or if you wanted to go hunting with her.”

I bit my tongue, smoothing down some of tuk’s stray braids.

“How about this, Next time, I’ll walk you home from Popiti’s.”

She nodded and took another bite of her food.

“I don’t think she should be your mate anymore”

Tuk shakes her head disapprovingly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Spider raises an eyebrow.

“Kyuna and you are a mated pair? Since when?”

Lo’ak snickers and I groan.

“For the last time, she is not my mate.”

Tuk blinks at me before speaking again.

“Can you mate with y/n instead? She’s nicer.”

I shove another leaf wrap into her hands.

“How about we play the quiet game for a bit?”

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

Hello my lovely virago readers! So because tumblr didn’t like my original 28k words version of this chapter, iv’e split this into 3 parts. This is part 1 of chapter 3. Part 2 and 3 will be posted straight after. 

Thank you for your patience!

Please don’t forget to comment your favorite quote, dynamic, or moment!

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[trashcanwithsprinkles]

hi! I wanted to ask questions about how you proceed to write:

Do you have a general idea with plot twits and such figured out? like general guidelines and then go crazy and write these amazing fics or you just go with the flow?

How do you establish world building? Like, all the fics I've read from you (which are more than great) got lots of info in the world building though strangely enough (in a good way) I wasn't lost on it? Like Cyanide Narwhal has crazy lore to it with lots of characters and stuff going on but as you read you get what happens even though hundreds of stuff happen at once. HOW DO YOU DO IT :0

How do you write so smooth also? Like going from one scene to another makes total sense without there being a cut? (idk if i make any sense sorry ^^').

Finally, how do you explain feelings so well? Well not explaining directly but making us FEEL *looking at cyanide narwhal and i think you're so good (and i'm nothing like you)*. I think that the description of them interacting helps w it (like the way Zhongli looks at Ajax (i am melting please thats so cute-) but even the interaction between Ajax and the kids (big brother behavior)

oh god

i do always have a general idea on how the story is going to go, like what plotbeats i want to hit and what i want to happen. but since it's not a good idea to marry to one path, the details for how things happen or how we get from point a to point b specifically i usually come up with on-the-go, and i do leave room for modifications. like i have a million fic ideas and scenes i want to write but i never actually write any if i cannot picture two things: 1, what the point of it is (the main climax, the main mystery, etc), and 2, how it ends. (the reason why most wips don't make it past a couple chapters is bc i struggle to picture the ending accurately, or how to get there)

i genuinely have no idea how to explain the world building, i'm sorry lmao. if i really had to think about it, no joke, i think i'd say this was stardew valley's fault. yes you read that correctly. more specifically, the earmuffs item. now- it might not be evident as it is rn w the way i write, since it's been a while since i've started doing my worldbuilding like this and obviously it's evolved and gotten more complex w time, but- for those unaware, stardew isn't a game you play for the worldbuilding per se. for the deep world lore. especially pre-ginger island update (1.6?). but there IS worldbuilding, it's just you don't really see it, it's not the point of the game. you're there to grow crops tend to animals suffer in the mines and get a partner. that's it. but you know there's more outside the town and the valley. you know the biggest city nearby is called zuzu, you know what the sea is called, you know there is a war going on in the background, you know there is an empire involved, you know lewis might be the mayor of the town but he's still under the governor of the region. you know there's witches and spirits and elemental beings and aliens n shit. the fucking earmuffs were sort of like my epiphany years back bc their description says they're lined w artisanal velvet from castle village. what the fuck is castle village?? were you ever going to tell me about it outside of those fucking earmuffs? does it even matter? no. it doesn't matter. but just because it doesn't matter doesn't mean the earmuffs stop being an artisanal item from castle village. just because it doesn't matter what the sea is called doesn't stop it from being the gem sea specifically. the fact that you only care, gameplay-wise, about your farm and pelican town- it doesn't stop your country from being at war, from being called the ferngill republic. the world of the game exists outside of what matters to you for the plot. and so even if you're never going to find out some of these things if you don't look, they're going to be there anyway.

i don't know if that makes any sense. it probably doesn't LMAO a probably better way to explain it is like- write stuff the same way you hear our own world being talked about irl. does it matter for the 'plot' of your day if your mother says she's going to one specific supermarket? no. does she still call it by name? most likely. that's just how it works. you know it exists because this is the world you live in, regardless as to how much it matters to the actual 'plot'. it's not there exclusively to serve the purpose of aiding the plot, but because it's a part of your world and therefore must be connected to the world beyond you. the world will only read like it's lived in if the characters speak about it like they actually live in it.

i'm not actually sure that answers the question now that i think about it. it's just- i trully don't know how to answer it. i don't know what i'm doing that makes it interesting and not a complete mess to read even if it IS a complete mess. the only explanation i can think of is that: that i write the characters interacting with their world as though they actually live there. the plot is just something that happens to an already existing, already established world.

also i think you might be merging lore and worldbuilding with plot. yes, the worldbuilding and lore in my fics are absurd, but that alone i don't think would be hard to keep up with. it's the plot also being absurd what makes it seem like there's a lot going on at once (there is, just- in two different fronts). like there's not a million things happening at once in the worldbuilding - there's a million things happening at once in the plot. you're finding out a lot of stuff about the world at the same time, is the thing. anyway,

scene transition without the cuts being smooth i also am not sure how to explain. that's probably on me for not following scene structures properly tbh. so uh- no clue here chief, i'm sorry. i don't even have a guess as with the worldbuilding.

with the writing feelings i do have somewhat of a guess- it genuinely might be some undiagnosed brain fuckery i have. kinda like how the inside joke of asexuals being shockingly good at writing sex scenes goes. if you have a different-than-intended perspective on the stuff, it would probably lead to a different approach to writing it. but other than that i also am not sure

i think the main takeaway is i don't know shit LMAOOOOO

[bachiras-toaster]

The videos : ̗̀➛

GETO SUGURU x f!reader (x GOJO SATORU)

cw: filming, voyeurism, m!masturbation

wc: 1.3k

an: connected to something i wrote for kinktober. as i finished writing one of the drafts i literally had an epiphany and needed to write this story for geto’s perspective too. you’ll get gojo’s perspective on day 23 c;

link to the kinktober fic

That video was not in Geto’s list of things that he expected to see that night, especially not after the wonderful evening that you had just shared with him. The entire evening out you spent with Suguru was full of laughs, jokes, flirting, and much more. Hell, he even walked you to the apartment of his best friend for convenience.

Despite being extremely close with Gojo, Geto could never help but feel a tinge of jealousy whenever he remembered that being best friends with Satoru meant that he got to spend more time with you. Of course, you knew Gojo first, and that’s how you had even come to meet Geto, but ever since knowing you, Geto has never once been able to get his mind off of you.

He spoke about you endlessly to Gojo, to which he would just encourage his words and implored him to talk more about what he did with you. Whenever hs spoke to his best friend about the time he spent with you, he spared no details. Not only because Gojo was his best friend and he, quite literally, told him everything, but also because whenever he started talking about you, he just couldn’t stop. It was like your name rolled off his tongue in such an easy way that he was like an open faucet of memories he shared with you.

Even when it came down to the private stuff, he left nothing out. In fact, he felt himself go into such extreme detail when he described his intimate moments with you. You had never actually had his dick inside of you, but he did give you head on occasion. And whenever he told Gojo about the night where he did, he would talk about it in such immense detail that it was like Gojo was practically seeing the moment unfold as he told him. He described the curve of your ass, the way you tasted, how you sounded- Everything.

And despite all that Geto had told, Gojo swore from the bottom of his heart that he had zero interest in you— Sexually or romantically. You and Gojo were best friends and he could never see you the way Geto did, ever.

Gojo wasn’t exactly the master of deception, but maybe he just believed him because of how close the two of them were. A part of Geto had always known that Gojo must’ve been lying because there was no way that he couldn’t harbour any feelings for you, but he chose to believe Gojo’s words every time anyway.

So when Geto returned back home from his date with you to see a single video message in his phone from Gojo, he stood still for a whole minute or two in his bedroom just rewatching the fifteen-second clip that Gojo had sent him.

“Don't be a brat, (Y/n).” The heavy pants from the video groaned- The voice clearly belonged to Satoru. "Tell Suguru who's fucking you good."

The sounds of your moans, as well as the endless cries for Satoru’s name filled Geto’s ears. He had to seat himself down because of the shock, but his eyes were still widened at the screen, replaying the video for what felt like the ninth time now.

However, he wasn’t as angry or irritated as one would expect— Which is probably why Gojo had even sent the video of him fucking you to him in the first place. He wasn’t jealous or annoyed, he was actually feeling quite aroused. Maybe if it was some other random guy pounding his dick into the girl that he liked, he would’ve felt murderous. But it was Gojo. Hell, he had even sent a nice, high-quality video to his best friend so that they could share the moment together.

He just couldn’t look away. It was such perfect angle. Your parted legs making way for Gojo’s heavy dick inside of you, Satoru’s large arms laying on your hips as he pounded away like you were just a little fuck toy, and the way he could see your slick line his dick in such high quality just made his mouth water even more. There was a clear erection growing in his pants, and he had been involuntarily inching towards it as he kept replaying the video again and again.

He had already allowed his veiny cock to spring free as he swiped his thumb over his slit, gathering his precum so that he could prepare fucking into his fist at the video. He had already screen recorded the message the second time the video replayed, so the moment was already perfectly preserved in his camera roll, but he continued watching the clip from him and Satoru’s text messages anyway.

With the video still playing in the background, Geto frantically typed away with his left hand, sending the messages in such a hurried and desperate pace as he continued to get off to your filthy moans.

“fuckimg hell”

“shes takinf yoy so well”

“god sje looks so wet”

He panted as the text messages went through amat a quick rate. He didn’t cease typing. In fact, he was already preparing himself to send another load of desperate text messages, hoping that they would get through to Satoru in time. They were just another load of short texts, this time asking for requests, begging Satoru to make her scream his name next.

Likewise, in the same manner in which Gojo had done, Geto opened the camera and aimed the lens towards his thick dick, his hand already stroking it harshly with the sound of wer squelching being hard as his hands ran down his length. Though, in contrast to the video that Gojo had sent him, instead of being just a few seconds long, Geto had decided to film right until he was able to catch his high.

There were times he sped up, and times he slowed down, but the things he said were all the same. His low grunts were accompanied by the sound of your name heavy on his tongue, as well as short babbles about how pretty you looked getting fucked dumb by his best friend. His tip was practically glowing red as his palm sped up, the though of your wet pussy being pounded keeping him going.

“God, (Y/n), this is all for you.” He groaned out, the sound of his lip smacking along with his low moans was heard in the background of him jacking off. “You looked so fucking beautiful getting fucked by Satoru… I wanna have my turn with you next…”

He felt himself chuckle as he sped himself up even more, his back arching for better access as his stomach began to knot with the sensation.

“M’gonna be so fucking mean with you the next time I see you… Gonna make you take my dick instead of my tongue… And m’gonna make you take it until you pass out…” He grunted heavily, hoping that the video was catching every single filthy threat that he was allowing to escape his lips.

Not before long, he had released himself all over his palms, letting out a loud groan, along with tour name, as he did so.

Five minutes and seventeen seconds, the video time read. And without a second thought, he sent it straight back.