#Its a lot more time consuming so it might be a little while before it's uploaded

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Your Six Balls is so cute I need more of him

I'll offer you by heart in return: ❤️🧎🏻‍♀️

How can you offer me your heart when Six Balls already has it?

[jeanbie]

FANTASIZE ★ masterlist.

pairing: jake x reader

warnings: explicit sexual content, fem!human!reader, semi-public sex, piv sex, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, breeding kink, cumming inside, glowy cum | wc: 16k | ♬

note: i've been promoted to: avatar writer. my first time writing for it (def not my last!) lemme know what u think ;-) also his smirk in the header....GET INSIDE ME

★ ⏤ fantasize | all the time (if you were mine)

⏤ It's official - Jake is sick and tired of Norm giving him shit. While he can't claim to know as much about Pandora as Norm does, there's still a few things Jake can afford to do to piss him off even more for the fun of it, and it just so happens that Norm's sister works as a scientist in the lab - which to Jake spells perfect revenge in its simplest form.

It’s official — Jake has had enough of Norm’s bitching and whining.

For the last two months, Jake has endured a lot, more than he ever asked for or wanted; whether it was Neytiri on his ass about becoming an Omatikaya and never missing a single beat of training for it, Grace nagging him about video logs, or even Norm giving him so much shit over every single thing he didn’t spend three years learning in simulations and classrooms — he’s sat and listened to all of it without complaint. 

Jake has never once fought back, never once raised his own grievances about how tedious and time-consuming everything actually is on one man’s shoulders, and yet it all keeps coming.

The worst thing is that he can understand all of it to an extent. There’s a necessary need for attentiveness when learning the ways of the Omatikaya, and the longer it takes, the worse his chances get with the rest of the clan. The video logs? They’re not that important, Jake thinks, but it keeps Grace off his back for the small kernel of time he actually spends in the real world and not inside of his avatar. 

But with Norm, Jake can’t seem to understand what is actually bothering him enough to be so goddamn bitter about every little thing.

Of course, he’ll never fit into Tom’s shoes, not in the way everybody expects him to. He didn’t spend three years of his life learning how to control an avatar or how to function on Pandora — every day is quite literally a learning experience, a practical education that neither a lab nor a stuck up prick like Norm can teach. 

And, while he’s on the subject, Jake actually thought Norm would be a decent ally, at least until he almost died and got saved — with reluctance — by the daughter of the Olo’eyktan and somehow ended up being thrust into learning their way of life. 

Nobody seems to remember the giant part of the story concerning how he almost got devoured by an oversized dog in the process.

Instead, Norm wants to bitch about how Jake knows nothing, and treats him like a genuine idiot. Jake might be a few years short of being educated on the Na’vi, but he’s not stupid. He can still do stuff, stuff that Norm can’t; but reasoning with the man is like trying to convince the Na’vi that the Sky People are actually friends and not foes, and it’s pretty obvious that that’s never going to happen.

When Norm begins his daily ritual of berating Jake on his lack-of knowledge regarding the Hallelujah Mountains that surround their shitty little containment, Jake’s willing to sit through it and take it like a champion. 

Norm starts weaving his conspiracies to the cluster of scientists about how Jake is a terrible candidate for joining the Omatikaya clan and that all he cares about is sucking up to the Chief’s daughter — not true, by the way, for Neytiri can only stomach being near Jake because she has to and on rare occasions, he can do something absurdly dumb to make her laugh — and Jake begins to mentally tap out of the debate, rolling his eyes to the side and sighing as he watches you duck your head through a low archway with a bowl of slop in your hands.

Jake watches you for around three seconds before the lightbulb flickers alight above his head.

And then he grins.

It’s hard to believe that you and Norm are related — Jake can’t find any similarities between the two of you. You’re incredibly compassionate and communicative, never letting Jake suffer in his silent struggle of stupidity, and not to mention you’re incredibly beautiful; whereas Norm is just… Norm. A bitter, angry, red-faced man who does a piss poor job at hiding his insatiable jealousy of how wasting your life in a classroom or behind a book actually means very little in the grand scheme of achieving your goals. 

Example A: Jake of the Jarhead clan, ex-military, future Omatikaya. Cross-reference to Norm: sad loser. Jake signs his name on the mental essay he’s compiling as Norm drones on about culture and ignorance and narrows his gaze on you as you close in on the group.

Jake’s actually always liked you. You’re a no nonsense kind of woman who loves science and the Na’vi, and, unlike your brother, you actually treat him like an equal. Even now, as you slip next to him and lean back against the low metal work-surface, you meet Jake’s gaze with an eye-roll and smile, and his grin only widens from it.

Oh, how he loves that you like him. Although you spend so much time engrossed in your work and documenting on paper whatever Jake recites from his daily activities within the clan, Jake happens to know that you like him, and in hindsight, it’s never been a secret. For the first time, Jake lets himself consider the possibility of that being just another reason for Norm to suddenly despise him, but the idea warms his stomach rather than churns it.

“I can totally see Jake ruining all of our chances at building bridges by just burning them all together,” Norm huffs, folding his arms and wrangling a dirty glare in his direction. Jake welcomes it with the same smile that’s been blooming over his face for the past two minutes, which worsens Norm’s mood. 

“I don’t see you building any bridges, either,” you say to Norm. “Jake’s been more valuable to this program than you have as of late.”

Norm bristles. “One of us has actually been doing research while the other is trying to seduce an Olo’eyktan’s daughter—”

“Jake’s doing field research, Norm,” Grace says, her eyes still glued to her microscope. “And he knows better than to seduce anybody when we haven’t properly studied the relations between Na’vi and avatars yet. And there are bigger issues at stake right now.”

“I can get results on that if you want me to,” Jake offers.

“No, Jake.”

Jake shrugs. While Norm continues his tirade against Jake’s rather noble endeavours with the Omatikaya, he turns his gaze back towards you and lets his mental clogs turn.

At this point, Jake thinks that even if you agreed with some of Norm’s points, it wouldn’t make any difference. There is absolutely nothing he can do to please Norm, and so maybe he should just stop trying. Then again… There’s something hideously funny in how worked up Norm gets when somebody jumps to his defence, particularly you.

And considering most of Norm’s insecurities come from seeds he planted all by himself without any concrete evidence to support most of the points, Jake knows that anything he does from here on out will drive Norm into a slow burning insanity.

“Is it because I’m in a wheelchair?” Jake asks suddenly.

Norm huffs. “Of course not. It’s because you don’t take any of this seriously. Everything is a game to you. All of us here have spent years building up to this assignment while you read a manual and called it a day.”

“What? I’m serious. I’m one of the best avatar drivers here,” Jake says smugly. Grace finally looks over with an irate look — something tells him he wasn’t supposed to tell everyone that she had told him that. 

Norm’s face turns a whole new shade of pink. 

“I’m also a quick learner. The Omatikaya are trusting me more and more each day, so while I go out there and find out valuable field research for this program—” Jake looks at you with a deliberately sweet look and you laugh quietly, “—you can stay here and look at plants and mud and cells.”

“You probably don’t even know what a cell is.”

“Sure I do. Where they lock up all the bad guys.”

Norm opens his mouth to say something more, probably missing the joke like he does every time, but this time Grace swirls in her chair and sighs loudly, looking between the two of them like they were children.

“Alright, ladies, you’ve measured your dicks at equal length. You’re both doing good work around here, so Norm, why don’t you just let Jake go back to doing his work with the Omatikaya and you can just get some rest. Jesus, you’re both making everyone miserable, it’s affecting my work ethic…”

“Yeah, sweet dreams, Norm,” Jake calls, and Norm gives him a filthy scowl before snatching his things up off the desk, holding them secretively to his chest as he stomps towards the back room lined with their bunks. 

Jake feels the dark and evil energy follow him out the room and then he finally looks around the lab in disbelief. 

“Jake, go, you’ll be late, don’t keep Neytiri waiting,” Grace reminds him, switching off the bulb to the microscope and stretching her arms as Trudy claps her hands and silently announces her retirement to the bunks after Norm. “Don’t forget to make a log when you get back. Don’t let him forget, will you, Spellman?”

Grace looks at you with a look that suggests no room for negotiation. It was an order. She collects her things, claps Jake on the shoulder and grabs a cigarette from the net by the archway and takes it with her towards her separated bedroom. 

When the door to her little cubicle rattles shut, Jake shakes his head with a quiet laugh and rolls himself forward, giving you room to assemble your own work station where he had just been.

“Staying up late tonight?” he asks you, taking a swig of water before pushing one of the buttons to the link unit, waiting as it whirs to life.

You settle your stuff down and walk towards him. “Yep. I actually do have some work on cells to finish up.”

Jake’s lips quirk. “Not your usual ballpark, is it?”

“No, but there’s not really a surplus of Na’vi around here to communicate with,” you say in reply, rummaging with the unit to help Jake into the gel pack mattress. Usually he dismisses the help, but when it’s you helping him get comfy, then he’ll stomach his pride and accept your kindness. He’s surprisingly light, as normal, and you frown. 

“Don’t forget about the real world, Jake, you gotta take care of yourself.”

“Don’t worry, I got this,” he assures you. “You need anything while I’m out?”

Another thing that will shave a few years off Norm’s life — Jake bringing you things, extraordinary and otherwise unattainable when stranded in the mountains things for you to study and report. You hum thoughtfully at the offer, pushing his head down softly when he wriggles restlessly, a little to eager to get to whatever he’s doing in the forest tonight.

“If you happen to cross paths with a tsawksyul, a simple cutting would be appreciated,” you tell him, opting for something a little more simple than normal, considering Jake’s busy these days training. “If you don’t forget while you’re busy seducing daughters, of course.”

Jake’s grin returns, if not out of genuine amusement then just to see you smile in return and do the little head-tilt thing that Jake’s discovered he adores.

“Not my thing. More into scientists,” he tells you, watching in the final moments before you shut him in the pod at how you shake your head and turn yourself away from him.

There was no rejection. No refusal. Just a smile.

A smile that sets his plan into motion.

No wonder Norm is always in a terrible mood. You find that his notes on the cells found in the mossy undergrowth of the forest is as chaotic as it can possibly be, which has left you using Grace’s Bible on Pandora botany as a guide and squinting to find the connections between his barely legible notes.

It’s basic knowledge that when cells die and a genetic material begins to unfold, a charge of energy is released; this concept has been the fundamental structural point to Norm’s notes on the moss and how each step at night causes a ricochet of expanding light, but there has to be something more than everybody is missing. Even in Grace’s book, there’s not enough information regarding how it works; if it’s connected to Eywa, if it is a response to another organism, whether it breathes and lives as its own entity.

Alongside Norm’s notes, you very sparingly begin to make an analysis of the communicative features of Pandora plant life, and begin jotting a vocabulary to use in a later research assignment, when a sudden knock against the glass above your head makes you jump quite literally up and out of your seat.

The Hallelujah Mountains are so isolated from the rest of the human population on Pandora and used rarely by the Na’vi during the night, but you distinctly make out Jake’s looming form standing outside with a smile on his face and relax. His skin is a bioluminescent explosion of colour, and for a moment you’re struck dumb staring at him until he waves his hand as if beckoning you outside.

You throw a cautious look over your shoulder, but the lab is silent and still. With that in mind, you reach for one of the exo-packs and shrug on your cardigan hanging on the back of the chair you were just on and hesitantly begin to make your way outside.

Very sparingly have you been outside of Site 26 to explore, and never once on your own. Grace has drilled into you the strict importance of respecting the laboratory rules and curfew, and if you’re going to wander outside after hours in the name of research, then please, wake her up too. 

But you won’t be alone out there, not when Jake is waiting for you outside.

Jake drops to a squat in anticipation when the airlock doors to the lab force open with a wheezy breath, and he sees you cautiously step out and secure a button on your cardigan in place. The gesture almost makes him croon. He rarely sees you at night since he’s learned the value of getting rest in between his adventures in his avatar, but now he can’t believe what he’s been missing out on seeing past his bedtime.

You look tired, your hair out of place and messy, but he recognises your attempt to look more alert when you step towards him with a slight bounce.

“Hey, tìyawn,” he calls to you, as you stare up at him even whilst drawing near. Thanks to the crouch, you’re about eye-to-eye, and he watches your expression widen with wonder as you map out the illustrations of light across his nose and cheeks, before sweeping to his forehead, then his neck, and then his bare chest.

“Hey, yourself,” you laugh, finding his eyes again as they glow in the low light. The Pandora skies are littered with stars and balls of unimaginable white light, but even the surrounding forest gathering around the lab to protect it from the harsh dropping winds of the mountains are pulsing with purple light, every single shrub and leaf and plant glowing with life.

Jake stares at you for a moment before producing a gift from behind his leg. You take it from him with a wide and gasping smile.

“No way!”

“Way,” Jake says, watching you handle the flower with so much care that one might assume it would break with your touch. With the way Jake was swinging it around on his way up here, he’s actually shocked that it’s still in one piece, but something in the way you respond to everything Jake does or brings tells him that even if he’d brought a portion of it, you’d be just as pleased.

“Thanks,” you say, turning slightly as you tell him you’re going to put the tsawksyul in the lab for safe-keeping. But Jake reaches his arm out to trap you from leaving, cocking his head to the side with a soft smirk when you round back on him curiously.

“It’s not gonna die if you leave it out here, it’s a flower,” Jake tells you, jerking his head in another direction. “Wanna look around with me?”

You pause, and he can tell you’re genuinely conflicted. Grace said not to leave the vicinity under any circumstances out of respect for the Na’vi and the lab rules. But she also said not to go outside without her, and here you are.

“Grace will be mad if she finds out I’m gone,” you tell him slowly.

“Probably.”

“And Norm.”

Jake feels a rush of something at the mere mention of your brother, and his tail swishes against the rocks behind him. 

Jake leans closer to you. “Well, him I don’t care about.”

Mindful of the plant in your hand, you gently push Jake’s chest back until he rolls on his heels, unable to fight the smile on your own face.

“…Where will we be going? I can’t go far just in case Grace wakes up and comes looking for me.”

Jake tilts his head up to the sky and to the top of the mountain peak that houses the lab. From his own experience scouting up there, Jake knows there’s a small incubation of trees that offers a compelling view of the entire mountain range, as well as offering a minor collection of plants he thinks you’ll die over once you see.

But that just wouldn’t be as evil as what he originally had planned. He then rolls his head towards the small section of trees that border the back of the lab, close to where the bunks are, and he then looks back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“We’ll stay close,” Jake promises. 

You hesitate once again and guiltily look at the lab. It’s not like it’s going anywhere…

“Alright,” you sigh, looking back at Jake and watching his smile widen as if he’s just obtained a great victory. There’s no room in your stomach for suspicion to grow — it’s overrun with butterflies when Jake points his head in the direction of the snug tree line and holds out his finger for you. 

You stifle a laugh and reach to hold it, setting the tsawksyul on the ground tucked under the same window he just scared you from and join him on the slow walk to wherever he means to take you.

Being with Jake has always felt easy, but being with Jake’s avatar is practically uncharted territory. It’s a struggle to remember that it is actually the same man you like so badly back in the lab, the same guy who deliberately rams your ankles with his wheelchair just to watch the way you catch yourself as you fall, the same guy who you think uses you as a factor to piss off your brother but in a way that you find strangely attractive. 

Now, he’s an almost ten foot Na’vi leading you in the whimsical dark towards a cluster of trees, and you don’t know how to begin separating the feelings you have for Jake from the feeling of nerves you feel around his alter ego.

You can barely make out Jake’s face all the way above your head, not until he feels your stare and looks down at you beside him. There’s a similarity in his human expressions with his Na’vi ones, which is fortunate considering there was a time where you thought the avatar looked more like Tom than it did Jake. Now that they’re one in the same, and now that Jake is in front of you in his avatar form and the feelings you have for him are still lingering, you’re beginning to accept the likeness between the two of them. 

“What did you do today?” you ask him, referring to his ritualistic training with Neytiri.

Jake hums thoughtfully. “Nothing compared to Norm, I’m sure.”

At that, you laugh. “I’m seriously asking, Jake.”

“Alright… Neytiri has me reading the signals of the forest whenever we go hunting,” he explains sparingly, seeming not in the mood to talk training now that you’ve reached the lay of forest near the back of the lab. He surveys the setting and the space between the lab and the fringe of leaves and bushes and nods, as if satisfied but then pulls you deeper into the thrush of leaves.

“She says everything’s connected,” he continues. “She also says I’m a terrible shooter.”

“You’re missing your shots?” you tease. Jake turns back to you with a grin that you honestly walked into when you asked.

“Not all of ‘em.”

After the short walk, Jake is finally satisfied with the burrow of bushes and rocks that outline the small selection of forest behind the lab, and he looks up to once again gauge the distance and is pleased when the lab doesn’t look too far away. Jake hears you rustle and sit on one of the low rocks with your knees to your chest, and then drops to his usual squat in front of you, arms rested on his knees, gently fiddling with his fingers.

“How’re your cells?” he asks, but you’re so busy gazing at the forest around you and the stars above your heads that he fears you’re not even listening. Jake instead settles for watching you.

He knows he’s in over in his head when even his avatar likes you. Jake’s had nowhere near as much experience navigating his way around how to use this body than the other drivers, let alone time to understand the signals his body sends him or the feelings different things have to him, but he can tell the difference between being you friendly and not, even when he’s not totally familiar with how it all works. And on top of that, there are so many random variables to being Na’vi to get his head around that he never even thought of until Neytiri or Grace filled him in on what the hell was going on with his body at certain times of the month.

He’s stupid sometimes, true, but not totally naive. Jake recognises the tug in his chest as he looks at you — he feels the same thing when he’s in his human body. He’s no expert on Na’vi, never claimed to be, but he feels there must be something instinctive in the way he feels for you and the way his avatar senses it. And with Norm’s fresh-faced hatred in full flush whenever Jake makes that fact known, he’s not at all surprised that those feelings have suddenly become so full frontal now that he’s had enough of Norm’s bullshit.

“It’s amazing out here,” you say, to Jake but also to the wind as you completely crane your head up to look through the cracks in the branches and leaves. “Don’t you ever wish Earth had looked like this?”

“I haven’t really thought about Earth since I left,” he confesses, shuffling closer to you while you’re occupied with mapping out the stars in the sky.

“Not once?” You look down at him. If you’re taken aback by the sudden closeness between you, you hide it well. 

Jake shrugs. “Nothing I need is there.”

Fair enough. You stare at him for a moment and think about that before agreeing. 

“Me too.”

The branches above your heads sway in a gentle breeze and Jake watches you hug your cardigan around yourself before asking, “So, why’re we here? Did you wanna show me something?”

“What, the stars not enough for you?” Jake looks up to the sky.

You laugh quietly. “I’ll never get enough of them, actually. Beats the lab ceiling by a long shot. Looking at the stars through the window’s not the same… I wish I didn’t have to use this mask—” You throw him a playfully exasperated look, “—I wish I had an avatar.”

“Why don’t you?” Jake’s never asked, never thought to ask. But you’re the only scientist in his close collective of scientist ‘friends’ who doesn’t actually drive an avatar, and is instead limited to just studying everyone else's.

“It was never really my thing,” you explain, settling comfortably atop the rock and throwing the glances to the sky away to focus on him. Like the lab, they’re not going anywhere, and the ones tattooing Jake’s skin are far more interesting. “Okay, that’s a lie. I think the avatars are fascinating, just like the Na’vi, but sometimes you take what you’re given when you’re given it. Norm has always had to be better than I am, always one step ahead. Plus, our inheritance only stretched as far as to cover the contract costs of one avatar driver.” You laugh, “And Norm’s older.”

“Damn, so we just got stuck with Norm,” Jake comments, only to make you laugh again, which thankfully works. “I’d have a better time out here if it were you and not him.”

“He’s actually very insecure about that,” you tell him, watching his amusement grow without knowing the exact reasons for why. “He always goes on about how your avatar is much more built. I guess Tom was just more athletic and the avatar reflects it, I don’t think Norm’s used so much as an elliptical since high school… Anyway, he’s very vocal on how unfair the avatar program is in that regard.”

“You agree with him?”

Jake’s fingers ghost across your ankle.

“One: he’s my brother, and I’m not going to answer that question honestly. And two: let’s not forget who the avatar is modelled off. Tom was very handsome.”

“Growing up, I was always the pretty twin.”

You hum. “I couldn’t tell.”

Jake’s never ever considered the fact of you knowing his brother well before he died. He’s never had to think about it before, not until now, but he pushes the thought away and falls back into the thoughts of what he came here to do in the first place.

“You don’t think I’m handsome?”

He watches your grin widen. “I didn’t say that, did I?”

Jake creeps forward slightly, and this time you notice, moving your toes back further towards your bum on the rock while Jake continues his close creeping. 

“I think you’re a very pretty woman,” Jake murmurs. “Beautiful, even.”

“Norm’s not here to get mad at you for saying that,” you remind him.

“‘m not saying it for Norm to hear.”

You feel Jake’s hand sliding to wrap around your ankle and you shudder when he smooths his way up to your calf. You’ve never interacted with any Na’vi like this before, never felt their skin pushing against your own. With a glance down at his hand, you frown and work your way back up to his face, his eyes lit up in the dark.

“It’s not fair that you’re using your avatar against me right now,” you mutter, making him laugh through his nose and bring his body closer to the round edge of the rock. He considers it progress when you remain rooted in place once his hands run up the length of your legs to your waist.

You watch his nostrils flare slightly as he observes you, which only makes you feel more nervous and trapped here.

“All I’m doing is talking,” says Jake.

You scoff at him. “Does all your talking involve hands on the waist, Sully?”

He shrugs. “Only with really pretty people.”

Jake’s ears prick when you sigh and look back up at the stars. He doesn’t move his hands, but he senses your body tensing beneath his touch, smells the change in your body as he speaks. He’d love that part of being Na’vi a lot more if he knew what those changes meant exactly, and he can’t figure it out even as he stares at you intently.

His thumbs smooth from left to right, feeling the nub of your ribcage with every stroke over your tank top and tries to level his face into one of absolute neutrality when you look back down at him. 

“What are you doing, Jake?”

Not what he was expecting you to say, if he’s being honest.

“Nothing,” he says.

“You’re being weird,” you reply, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. It has the opposite effect, and you watch him struggle not to smile. His hairline raises when his brows do, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes when you figure him out, “Did you actually bring me out here just to flirt with me?”

He does nothing except look at you, as if the answer is painfully obvious and you’re stupid for not realising it sooner.

You sigh loudly. “Jake, I’m sorry that you didn’t get the memo like everybody else, but you didn’t need to lure me out the lab in your avatar if you wanted to get my attention.”

His thumb continues to move and his eyes drop slightly.

“I wouldn’t say I lured you out here,” Jake replies. You watch his eyes zero back in on yours and you fight your body against the urge to wrap up and hide from him. 

“You can’t be that stupid, I refuse to believe it,” you laugh disbelievingly, which makes him raise his brows questioningly. Even with a layer of plastic obstructing your face from his, Jake can’t get over how pretty you look. “You have to know that I like you even when you’re not a big blue alien.”

Jake’s grin widens, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “I know. You’re really bad at hiding it.”

“Okay,” you say, feeling under your cardigan for his hands and attempting to wrestle them away, but he doesn’t budge. You laugh again, as if the whole thing is genuinely funny for you, “then you can always make your thoughts about that known when I see you in the lab. In person.”

“I’m not doing anything I wouldn’t in there if I had the chance,” Jake tells you, moving his hands but only to sandwich them between your tank and your skin. The feeling of his palms flat against your stomach makes you jump slightly and reach for his wrist. 

“Please. I see you every single day.”

“Yeah, and your brother, and Grace, and Trudy,” Jake points out. “I can’t get a second alone with you. What would you have me do, make a move with your brother breathing down my neck about it?”

“You could just be upfront. Save me from looking like an idiot.”

“Come on, baby, let’s be real.”

The smile he has on his face is unmoving, and you search every corner of it to find signs of his sincerity falling and find nothing. But something feels wrong.

You’ve spent close to two months in the long shadow drawn by everything else in Jake’s life, and considering Jake’s newfound role of future Omatikaya warrior, you feel that the time he spends in your company has become less and less. So now that Jake has decided to pick up on whatever signals you were sending him and respond to them, you assume it’s all in the name of good fun to piss off Norm.

Feeling Jake’s hands creeping up your body in the middle of the Hallelujah Mountains and with no older brother here to glare at either of you, you’re rethinking everything you thought you had figured out.

“I don’t get it,” you say finally. 

Jake just laughs quietly. “You thought I just rammed my wheelchair into your feet for fun?”

“You mean to tell me that was your way of showing interest?” you ask unconvincingly.

“…Nah. I liked watching you fall, though,” he grins. Jake picks himself up from his squat and looms over you like a shadow, watching you fall back onto your forearms as you stare up at him. He sets one knee between your legs and leans down slightly, breathing in deeply in a way that has you thinking he’s actually sniffing the air around you. 

“Honey, I’m all kinds of obsessed with you.”

You blink. “You certainly gave nothing away.”

“I bring you shit all the time.”

“I’m a scientist, I didn’t know you did that because you liked me. I thought it was just because I wanted better samples than Norm.”

“I mean, that definitely helped motivate me to find everything.”

“You never even told me you liked me.”

“Well, I’m telling you now.”

“Okay, well, tell me tomorrow when you’re awake and not all…big,” you frown. 

Jake chuckles. “You don’t like me now, or something?”

“I definitely never said that. I just want to hear human Jake Sully tell me how he feels without using his avatar to try and win me over.” 

Jake’s tail swishes behind him. “You prefer the dummy in the wheelchair?”

“I like your wheelchair,” you tell him quietly, running your hand up his arm as he pins you flat against the boulder with a hand on your stomach. 

“I don’t,” he murmurs. “I like being like this. I like being bigger than you. I like smelling how much you like me.”

All of a sudden, your legs swing shut around him and you look at him in disbelief.

“Freak.”

All he does is smile. 

“Come on, Jake, I actually don’t have time for this,” you say around a groan, trying to move against him but failing miserably. An exasperated smile falls on your face. “Really? What are you even trying to achieve? You’re seducing me with your avatar?”

His ears twitch and he angles his head to the side. “Yes?”

“Why am I getting the impression that all of this has something to do with Norm somehow?” you sigh in reply, but Jake notices the way you fall relaxed underneath him, and he has the feeling you’re in no real hurry to get anywhere else tonight. 

“Well, it might have something to do with it,” Jake confesses, his voice lower than it was before as he draws his nose close to you and takes a deep inhale. The feeling of his braid flicking down from his back and brushing against your thighs makes you shudder, not to mention the feeling of his snout against your collarbones. “Really, I just want to spend some time with my girl while I got the chance to.”

Whatever you want to say or have planned to say dies away when you feel Jake’s lips wander and press against your sternum. 

Sighing, you shift your hands to his arms that have you pinned down and carefully squeeze. “Good luck with that, Sully.”

He runs his tongue flat against your skin and hears you exhale through your nose, a noise of satisfaction muffled by your closed mouth, and all at once, Jake’s decision is final.

He is going to fuck Norm’s sister. 

And he’s going to rub salt on Norm’s wounds by doing it in the way that will piss him off the most.

Jake kisses his way down the length of your body, his hands moving around your figure like a sculptor until his hands find their way to your thighs. Though oversized and covering most of them, Jake’s hands circle around the width of your thighs and he strokes his thumbs across the inside skin of them, all while laughter bubbles in your chest.

All of this is just so absurd. If someone had told you this morning that Jake so much as liked you back, it would have taken some convincing, but if they had gone as far as to suggest he’s be attempting to seduce you in his avatar in a little chunk of forest behind the lab you pretty much live in, you would have laughed at the delusion of the thought. But now, there’s no denying the very tangible view of Jake’s Na’vi hands pressing down on your thighs, his eyes staring up over the slope of your body as you pick your head up to look down at him.

“This is crazy,” you gasp.

Jake’s teeth reveal themselves against the stretch of skin he was just pressing kisses onto, his smile widening as he speaks. “You don’t want to, baby?”

You weigh your options. It’s either leave and go back to the lab and hope that Jake follows through on his apparent feelings for you in the morning… Or you can relax and enjoy.

“Jake…” You pause for a moment. You want to enjoy it, and you feel the pool of desire deepen inside of you and know it’s a sensation Jake can most likely smell. 

He’s still your Jake, still the same guy you dote over when he remembers he has a life outside of being Na’vi. The only difference now is that he’s blue, and mobile, and double your size in every definition of the word. And suspiciously attractive, but you don’t know for certain if you think that because it’s Jake or because it’s actually true as a fact. But you just can’t help but wonder if Jake’s climaxing feud with Norm is the only reason he’s pinning you to a boulder in the forest and kissing your stomach. 

“You’re not just doing this to piss off Norm, are you?” you ask, feeling serious all of a sudden. The only way you know Jake notices is from the way his ears flatten against his head and his eyes grow round with concern. 

In the light, his tail flicks from side to side in the way you recognise most Na’vi do when they’re nervous, and you fight the urge to look away from him when he stays quiet for a second, thinking of what to say in a loud silence.

Of course he’s doing this because he knows it will piss Norm off if and when he finds out. As soon as Norm catches a stinking whiff of Jake on your body when he’s in his own avatar surveying the mountains, there will be nowhere for Jake to run or roll off to and avoid Norm’s volcanic rage. But he knows as well that this is a long time coming — that he’s been chasing circles around your feet for the fun of it, and now the chance has come for him to bring what he’s buried to the surface and shape it into something more.

Jake very carefully thinks of what to say. “Knowing that if I fuck you right now it will piss off your insanely annoying brother makes me want to do it more. But if the only reason I was fucking you was to piss him off, then I’d be doing it in front of him.”

Your brows raise. 

“Okay, that came out wrong,” Jake says quickly. “My point is… I go crazy thinking about you. And everything I think about doing to you can be made possible when I’m, as you said, all big.”

“But… Norm—”

Jake groans, all smiles. “Oh my god, can we please stop bringing up your brother for a sec? It’s a huge turn off.”

“It doesn’t make me feel any sexier, either,” you point out, “but I’m just thinking—”

“Don’t think,” Jake tells you. “This is the one time you don’t have to think about anything at all except for how you’d like me to take care of you.”

Jake returns his face to your stomach as you blink furiously, a flustered feeling creeping up over your body at the bluntness of his words. If you thought he was playing around, you’re officially convinced when his hands tighten around your thighs and he spreads them apart, pinning them down against the boulder he’s made your bed for the night. You inhale a deep breath when Jake’s thumbs dip underneath your shorts, bunched around your inner thighs.

“I suppose it would be like killing two birds with one stone…”

Jake laughs against your skin. “Jesus Christ, Spellman, quit talking so much. Who knew you were such a yapper?”

“Am not,” you protest.

You shudder when he plants another kiss on your abdomen, pings the fabric of your shorts back against your skin with a sharp sting and he grunts with a nod.

“Okay,” Jake agrees, his ears high and tail swishing playfully. “Now take off your cardigan.”

Still watching Jake on your forearms as he hooks his fingers around the waistline of your shorts in an effort to pull them down, you wrangle a sigh of protest and lift your lower body up for him, all whilst reaching for the buttons on the front of your cardigan. 

You breathe heavily as you mumble, “Do you really need to take off all my clothes, Sully?”

“One of us is halfway there, honey, and it’s not you,” replies Jake. His golden eyes watch with intent as he pulls the shorts down the expanse of your legs with your underwear in tow. As you shudder with the breeze fanning between your legs, Jake takes a big inhale and stares.

He barely moves an inch once the shorts and panties are in a bunch around your feet, but you busy yourself by sweeping a look at Jake’s own attire, or striking lack of. Between his legs hangs his tewng, a simple and sparsely intricate item of clothing that leaves little to imagination when it comes to what is growing between his thighs. 

It’s standard attire for the Omatikaya, but you’ve never seen it up close, and never on Jake himself. It hits you then that he’s still in his entire hunting gear, as if he finished up with Neytiri and brought himself here right away.

Jake’s thighs clench as he finally moves, readjusting his footing in his dropped squat; to him, this position has become as natural as breathing, but you stare at his thighs bulging and wonder how he’s not in agony from it alone.

Jake looks up at you after his allocated time spent analysing the spot growing wet between your legs and you gulp, feeling almost nervous. 

“Well, you’re gonna be an Omatikaya soon. One of the consequences is wearing your little g-string everywhere.”

His head leans to the side as his amusement grows. “It’s called a tewng, genius.”

That makes you laugh, and say in a melodic and sweet tone, “I know.”

But Jake bites back with the same sweet tone as you and says, “Then shut up,” and you comply. It’s the least you can do for him when he smooths his big hands back between your legs and up close to your cunt.

Pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee, Jake inches his hands further, relishing in a deep breath as he returns to staring at the spot just inches from his fingers. From his perspective, you are hideously tiny; given the obvious lack of research on Na’vi and human sexual relations, Jake isn’t totally sure you’ll be able to withstand what he wants to give you.

Worth a try, though.

Jake’s chest rises and falls as he stares in wonder at your pussy, the scent divinely pronounced, and he runs one of his fingers between your folds and up, collecting the juices on his finger as he rounds your clit in a rather observational manner. 

You bristle, your legs instinctively trying to close — all the good it does, as Jake pushes them back open. His eyes flicker back up to yours, as if assessing his next steps, before he lowers his mouth to your cunt and without doing you the kind service of looking away, stares at you as he spreads his tongue flat between your folds.

His actions earn him a strangled moan of pleasure, and his ears twitch in satisfaction. The feeling of his tongue against you is strangely addicting, rough and soft at the same time, warm and wet and enough for your hips to lift. 

“Jake…” You gasp, feeling your eyes close, half with the pleasure of it all and also sheer embarrassment. 

Like a predator watching its prey, Jake never looks away from your face and the way it twists, your jaw hanging open as he licks your cunt. With the size of his head alone, his tongue virtually covers every corner of your pussy with no difficulty, leaving you with no untouched itch, no ignored stretch of wet skin. 

You can’t even bear to look down at him again, and you toss your gaze up to the stars as they twinkle above, blinking, conspirators to your escapade. Biting down on your lip to stop yourself from moaning too loud, your hips slowly roll up and down as Jake sucks around your clit, his big hands working overtime to keep you from wriggling away entirely off the rock and to the ground.

“Oh, god…”

Between your legs is a flurry of warmth, a tingling feeling rippling down to your toes. After five dry years, it comes as no real shock that even someone’s tongue could be ripping this kind of response from you. 

“You good?” Jake murmurs.

“Mmh. Hot,” you rasp. It doesn’t help that there’s an exo-pack warming your face with every deep breath you take. Jake moves his mouth from your cunt momentarily as if trying to hear you, watching with curious eyes when you bite back another noise which stirs as he slides his finger towards your entrance. 

“This mask is really ruining my vibe right now,” you groan, your voice so throaty and strangled that Jake has to fight a smirk. He fails miserably.

“Take it off and hold your breath,” Jake replies; a laugh rumbles from his chest when you lift your head to scowl at him.

“It would frighten people if they knew how much of a genius you were.”

Jake hums, his eyes glistening as he cocks his head, “I’m incredibly humble.” Then he wastes no more time talking and sinks his finger into you.

He sinks in with plenty of ease, your wetness guiding his finger all the way in to the knuckle and you choke back a strangled sound; one of Jake’s fingers feels like two of your own, the stretch unfamiliar but not unwelcome after your dry spell of five cryo-stolen years. 

Jake grins widely and inches his tongue back between your legs, swiping it over your clit and forcing the moans out from hiding in your throat.

You turn your head to the side, sparing a glance at the distant laboratory. You can only hope you’re not loud enough to startle your sleeping colleagues and brother.

“Eyes down here, Spellman,” Jake mumbles, his voice vibrating across your pussy and pulling your eyes back towards him. Tears spring to your eyes as he looks up at you, working his fingers in and out of you slowly while matching his licks to the tempo.

His tongue is slightly rough and textured, each lick leaving you feeling almost ticklish. A rush of warmth pulls from your cunt up to your neck, and your thighs tremble around his head with a flushed squeeze, but Jake doesn’t seem to mind; he pulls your one leg further apart with his other hand and slips in a second finger, the stretch of your hole making your back arch with a half pained, half pleasured moan.

“Jake!” you gasp, your hips bucking up against his mouth, his fangs brushing across you. He has the nerve to laugh all of a sudden, pulling his mouth away after pressing a sloppy kiss to your clit. “Jesus, fuck, Jake—”

“Goddamn, you are a yapper,” Jake comments, and you glare at the almost human look of pure smugness on his face, his chin coated with saliva and juice. 

“Fuck you,” you huff, feeling the absence of his tongue immensely, despite his continuously moving fingers. Jake’s fingers are thicker than they looked from afar — it feels like you’re full already, but you’re not willing to confess that to him. He already looks far too proud with what he’s doing.

You suppose, now that you’re thinking about it, Jake’s had years to become familiar with a pussy; he seems to be back between your legs with a certain hunger for you, the taste of your juices sweeter than he initially expected. 

His fingers are coated in juice, slipping into you with no resistance and curling his fingers up to make your hips lift once more. He almost wants to make a comment to fluster you, to tell you how insanely good it feels for your cunt to be quivering around his fingers, welcoming him up there as if you’d prepared for them beforehand. Jake parts his fingers inside of you, stretching you out, his mouth comfortably attached to you.

His ears twitch when you let out a wobbly cry — actually, he’s not sure if you’re crying for real or not. His eyes follow your hand as it creeps down to the hood of your pussy, just above his nose, and he pulls his mouth away for a split second.

“No, no, go back,” you pant, and like a dog given a command, Jake pulls his soggy fingers out of your cunt and pushes his head back between your thighs, satisfied by your own pleasured sounds when he does.

Jake hooks his arm across your lower stomach, effectively pinning you to the sloping boulder while he uses his other hand to keep your legs wide apart. You forget all about modesty and self-control and open them as wide as you can for him to help, your hand stroking the top of Jake’s hair as he burrows his way back between the wet spot he was devouring. 

You suck in a tight and high-pitched breath when Jake’s tongue shifts from left to right over your clit, the feeling of his tongue strange and almost like a vibration. Your hips lift from the boulder again and shift up and down — Jake’s barely even trying, barely broken a sweat, but when he glances up at you he’s both amused and surprised by how twisted in pleasure you look. All he can see is the underneath of your jaw tilted to the sky, and one of your hands curling up around your tit under your tank top.

Jake guides his arm from trapping your abdomen up to push the bottom of your tank up above your wrist. There’s no way he’ll let you gatekeep the sight of your tits when he’s the one making you touch yourself in the first place. His eyes are wide with excitement when you fist the fabric of your tank and yank it up above your boobs, the curve of them bouncing with the quick movement of your hand. 

Jake groans into you, his tail curling up high. Jake’s tasted a lot of pussy in his life, but he doesn’t know what exactly you’ve done to taste so good to him. He momentarily convinces himself that it feels different because he’s in a whole other body — it must just be because he’s big and strange and he’s been fucking you in his mind for a while now that you somehow feel ten times better than anyone else he’s ever been with. 

The pool of warm juice between your legs leaves you incredibly soft and squishy, like a tìhawnuwll that he has to remind himself he can’t just sink his teeth into.

It could be because you’re Norm’s sister. Could be because you usually appear so big when he’s resorted to sitting down all day, but now you’re helplessly tiny underneath him, trapped by his arms and head. Or it could just be because he’s an idiot who quashes his feelings rather than gives in to them.

He blinks. Your hips are so high off the boulder that Jake has to bring his arm back down to hold you in place. The less you squirm, the more drawn out he can make it, but he’s acutely aware of the tremor in your legs, the impatient rutting against his lips, the painful hardness under his tewng.

“Sweet,” he grumbles. The word leaves you flustered, and the heat brewing like a bomb against his open mouth begins to rise through your body again. You forget to be quiet as you let out a high-pitched moan, feeling your toes curl in your boots and you desperately finger at your nipple, rolling and tugging on the hardened nub of flesh as Jake pins you tighter against the boulder. He laves his tongue down your cunt towards your entrance, the warm tip of it pushing to the tightened hole that Jake wants more than anything to squeeze himself inside.

“Mf — Jake, come on,” you whimper.

One of his thin brows raises. “You seduced yet?”

“Fuck off. Yes.”

You feel the rumble of his laughter against your pussy. Jake presses a kiss against it and then moves his mouth to the soft skin of your inner thigh. 

“I never let a woman go without making her cum,” Jake says, his voice muffled against your leg. He feels you quiver beneath him, and his grin widens. “You wanna at least cum first, right?”

“Please, Jake—”

A startled cry of pain rips from your throat when Jake gently sinks his teeth into your leg — Jake knows his own strength and pulls back before he can draw blood, glancing at the red outline of his teeth imprinted into your leg, a ridged ring of saliva in his wake. Your head is lifted entirely to gape at him, and he looks at you with a coy expression.

“Did you just bite me?”

He smirks. “Accident. Sorry.”

“Yeah right.” Your legs shift slightly around him, but Jake can smell the twisting agony of pleasure leaking out of you — he’s never been more thankful for his Na’vi body and its strange sense of smell than he is now, to be able to pick up on the need you try to hide from him, a scent he actually understands. Normally he can admire your determination, but right now, he’s more concerned with finding out how to break down your walls and unravel you the way he knows you’ve been wanting him to for the last two months.

He smooches the bite one more time, his ears pricking when you whimper out a sort of desperately small sound and say, “Come on, Jake. You got me out here, don’t torture me about it.”

“Me eating your pussy not enough for you?” he asks smugly. He knows it would be more than enough — call him conceited, but he’s sort of an expert on it by now.

You don’t say much, nothing worth noting, at least. Jake’s ears are tall as he lifts his head slightly, but his thumb continues to rub up and down your slit, carefully smoothing over your swollen clit almost sympathetically.

“Please,” you beg in such a small and desperate voice that Jake smiles at the sound. You see his eyes flutter, half-lidded, as he cocks his head to the side until his temple is against your knee. 

“Hm? You just wanna say please and get it over and done with?” Jake mutters. “You can’t take any more of my fingers?”

“Don’t be a prick,” you whimper. “You want it, too.”

You feel that unkind heat simmer over you again, but not for the reason you expect. Jake blinks at you lazily, like an unimpressed cat, and then you watch as his eyes curve into crescent moons, the slint of gold virtually glowing in the Pandoran night. Then, the fucker smiles again, looking so smug that you feel embarrassed somehow, caught under his gaze.

“Yeah, I do,” agrees Jake. “I’ve been wanting you a long time.”

“Then, come on,” you urge. Something excited claws at you, and you feel your heartbeat race when he lifts himself slightly. “Come on, big guy. You got me out here, you win.”

He swells with pride, pleased by what is leaving your mouth in a flustered flurry. 

“You think you can take me all by yourself?” he asks, his hands coming to rest on your knees as he turns his gaze back to the clenching hole between your legs. Jake looks almost thoughtful as he stares at you, as if analysing. “You could only just take two fingers.”

For such an intelligent woman, Jake finds himself amazed when you look anxious about that statement. What, do you really think he’ll just give up and go? Jake doesn’t care if it takes all night to get himself up your snatch, because no matter what, he’ll get himself in there.

He sniggers when your mouth flounders like a little fish, your tank sliding with the angle of your body back down over your tits, but then he tuts and reaches back to pull it up. In fact, he decides it’s better off, and he uses one finger to pull the whole thing up to your chin, and lets you suffer in an anxious string of actions — you tug the tank up over your head, eyes wide, lip pouting. 

“Wanna try?” Jake asks, if not to speed along the increasing agony of his hard cock tenting under his tewng then just to put you out of your misery. “Or should I go back for seconds?”

“Jake…” Your chest rises and falls as you gape at him. He went through all the trouble to get you here, and although you never expected to look at Jake’s avatar and feel a throb between your legs, you can’t even look at him without feeling overcome with the terrible, pressing desire to squeeze whatever weapon he has under his loincloth into your cunt. Jake watches your eyes look down at the darkness between his legs, to the pretty band of string tied around his middle, and then looks back at you with a sickeningly sweet expression.

“Aw, honey. You want me to fuck you?”

It takes an incredible amount of effort not to scowl at him. Jake is lucky he looks so attractive with your arousal around his lips, otherwise you’d be up off the boulder and marching back to the labs for being so unbelievably full of himself. 

But even though he’s double your size and consumed by a cocky smugness from being able bodied and towering over you, you can’t think of enough reasons to warrant your leave. The only things on your mind are how much it’ll hurt to get him inside you, and how good it’ll feel once he is.

“That’s why you brought me here, after all, isn’t it?” you murmur, your lips curved slightly when he bows his body over you, his hands flat against the boulder on either side of your waist. “You’ve been thinking of me, right? Oeyä sayrìp tsamsiyu — you must have thought about this every time you went and found me a flower, right?”

Jake’s smile turns wolfish. “Yap, yap, yap.”

You all but whine underneath him. It is so unbecoming of you to be so desperate for something that you resort to writhing like a brat, but with Jake just straddling over you without doing anything, you feel the eager feeling of want coiling in your lower stomach. Your hole clenches around the air, as if trying to feel for Jake’s fingers again, and you lift your hips up off the boulder as if to entice him.

He barely even looks down at you, which only infuriates you more. 

For a moment, you wonder if the only reason he lured you out here was to satiate a desire of his own; maybe he just wanted to prove that he still had what it took to make a woman beg for him — though he needn’t have tried so hard, considering you’d have writhed and whined for him just as much, if not more, had he just made it known that he knew about and returned your feelings sooner.

But having you touch him in an impossible silence in the shared bunks pales in comparison to now, to having you look so small and soft and inviting; for you to beg for him, to let yourself be ravaged by him in all of his strength. Why would he prefer to have you while he feels useless when he can make the most of the strong, brawny and big body his brother passed down to him?

Jake breathes deeply through his nose and chews on the inner skin under his lips. You watch in the dark as his tail coils, his ears flat, until he lowers his body down like he’s doing a press up and pushes his nose against your sternum. 

“You smell so pretty, baby girl,” Jake mutters, pressing a kiss against the skin sloping between your tits. Biting your lip does little to suppress the moan that spills out when Jake cups one of his hands around your breast, and you hold the back of his hand as he gently squeezes. 

The hanging cloth of his tewng brushes past your pussy and you jolt in surprise, just in time for Jake to bring his mouth down over your other boob. The sheer size of Jake dwarfs every feature of yours, but something about your tiny size only excites him more. 

With his lips wrapped around your tit, you try your hardest to muffle another moan at the feeling of his tongue toying around your nipple, desperately trying to find something to focus on that isn’t the absurdly good feeling of Jake’s mouth or the tewng brushing past your pussy every time Jake rocks his hips backwards and forwards.

You clench your hand over his, feeling your legs squirm around him as his sharp teeth scrape against the squishy curve of your breast. Fear should rip through you when you feel his teeth tighten around the top of your tit, but it doesn’t; instead, a rush of warm excitement burns you from the inside out when Jake’s cheeks hollow, sucking a purple blot into your skin.

“Hey—” you say cautiously, but the damage is already done. It’s as if Jake’s determined to make you the same shade as him; the mark he leaves is blooming and bright, and he looks all too proud of himself when he looks up in acknowledgement of your voice. His tail thrashes excitedly. 

“Leaving that so everyone can see what you were doing when they wake up,” Jake explains, licking a strip from the swelling bruise to your neck for good measure. “My dirty scientist.”

That is if you ever make it back to the lab in one piece. 

Feeling the pleasure spreading across your body, you’re half contemplating staying here on this rock forever, hoping that Norm or Grace never come back here looking for samples only to find your corpse. You’re overcome with a conflicting contrast of emotions — you suddenly feel so exposed, so unraveled, half guilty for encouraging Jake to shove his big blue fingers up your crotch, and even guiltier about the fact that you want more from him.

“Enough. Come on,” you huff, and Jake dips his attention back to the rutting of your hips, the glossy shine of your arousal. “While I’m wet.”

“You really think I’m gonna let you dry up before I can get inside you?” Jake asks, as if the idea is beneath you both. “Have some confidence in me, Spellman.”

“I do. Full confidence. So, come on, gimme.”

Jake grins; he leans his weight up on one knee and in the light, you can just about see the protruding point of his tewng and feel your desire pooling. It’s only when Jake undoes the string around his waist and frees what hides beneath that you start to feel your body tense unexpectedly; it is beyond you how Jake has managed to keep the spear he calls his cock hidden for so long, and even more unthinkable as to how it will fit inside of you. 

You stare at it with wide eyes. Meanwhile, Jake holds the base of it with his hand and assesses the space between your legs again. When he guides the tip to your folds and strokes himself up and down, you feel your heartbeat quicken and your legs turn like jelly.

“You like it?” he asks, ever so sweetly, as if it’s a new gift brought back for you to enjoy. In a way, it is a gift, something for you to sample. Jake’s body seems to vibrate with nothing short of delight at the speechless state his dick has left you in — and he hasn’t even put it in yet.

“Big, right?” he continues to ask, a smirk on his face.

All you can say is, “how do you walk around with that thing?”

He barks out a laugh, his head tilted to the stars as his smirk widens. Jake then pushes the tip against you again with his thumb, choking down his amused sniggers as he drags himself up and down your cunt, and more than anything, he wishes he could see your face better in the moonlight. Luckily, Jake’s spent hours staring at you in his wheelchair to be able to piece together the smudges of your features he can see in the reflection of light hanging over the front of your mask. And what he can’t see, he’ll hear, and what he’s not satisfied with not seeing he’ll seek from you again later.

“It’ll be a tight fit,” Jake thinks out loud, prodding the tip of his cock against your entrance and looking up at you once you whimper, “but I know you can take it.”

“I dunno… Looks kind of big—”

“You can fit it in,” he tells you confidently.

But now you’ve seen it, you’re slightly nervous. “What if I can’t—?”

“You were just begging me for it,” Jake says pointedly. “While I’m wet, you said.” Then, he leans forward so that the wide slope of his nose is pushed against the front of your mask. “I don’t care if it takes all night trying. I’ll help you fit it all in, okay?”

You breathe in sharply, feeling your hips grinding up against him. Jake tries to find sympathy for you; he supposes that if he were you and some ten foot Na’vi was trying to burrow his cock between his legs, he’d be apprehensive too. 

“Just…” you rasp, watching him desperately, and he waits kindly, though his tip is on the verge of being swallowed by your cunt. Your legs tremble when he smiles at you, one hand on his cock, the other flat against the boulder. “Just go slow, okay?”

The way he looks at you is as if you’ve just said something stupidly endearing. “Sure thing, Spellman.”

Jake does his best to keep up his presented facade of coolness, but you feel so warm and wet, his arm begins to shake as he supports his weight on the boulder, grunting when he aligns his cockhead with your hole and very slightly pushes in. Even though he only just had his fingers up there, he can feel your pussy resisting, and it’s only the tip. 

Your mouth hangs open with a pained whine, the stretch uncomfortable but in spite of it, you arch your back as if trying to feel more of him inside of you.

“Easy,” he chuckles, very slowly pushing more of himself into your pussy. The noises from your mouth grow louder, and something proud purrs in his chest. His tongue pushes against the inside of his lower lip as he smirks, teeth showing, as he makes an almost amused groan. You’re insanely tight, and unbelievably squishy and wet — and hey, it’s been five years for him, too.

“Yeah,” Jake groans, pushing his hips further and pulling out, each stroke gentle and tentative. He wants more than anything to go rough, to make you mewl and cry and curl up against him, but the tearful look on your face makes him reconsider. Each time he sinks in a little bit deeper, softening the resistance of your walls as they make room for him. 

It takes an incredible amount of self restraint to stop himself from shoving all of it in at once; you’re so tight, the tightest pussy he’s ever felt closing around his cock, and easily the best. Jake closes his eyes for a second, honing in on the squeezing clench around his cock and the unnerving, uncharacteristic silence leaving your gaping mouth. 

“Talk to me, Spellman,” Jake groans, inching deeper inside. His ears perk again when you cry as he sinks in deeper. “Say something.”

“You told me I talked too much,” you manage out, admirably trying your hardest to remain quiet despite the pushing twelve inches of Na’vi cock up your cunt. Jake’s barely even inside of you; more of his dick is out than it is stuffed inside. 

“I love hearing you talk,” replies Jake, even though he had just poked fun at your ability to talk someone’s ear off. Had he known it would swear you into silence now, he’d have never said anything. What Jake wants now most of all is to hear your voice again, hear your pleasure, your instructions, your pleas. 

Hearing you slip out a high pitched moan when he pushes more of his cock inside of you feels like a reward almost. 

“Could listen to you yap away all damn day,” he murmurs quietly, his eyes finding yours behind the glaze of the exo-pack. “I know you’ve always got something to say, so why’re you so quiet all of a sudden?” Jake’s grin brightens when you manage to suck in more of his length, “Talk to me, baby, tell me what you want, hm?”

“Just… Put it in,” you whimper, and his eyes widen excitedly. 

“You said to go slow.”

“I know what I said, but I need more.” Your eyes are so blown open he’d laugh if it didn’t look so goddamn sexy. “Please, Jake.”

“You sure?” he croons. 

“Mm. Please — come on, please—!”

Jake snaps his hips forward so quickly that more than half of dick disappears inside of you, and the primal noise that leaves your mouth takes Jake completely by surprise. 

“Fucking shit, mama,” Jake groans, his voice rasped as he bows his chest over yours, dropping to his forearm on the boulder as he adjusts to the warmth enveloping him. “Holy shit.”

You swallow a deep breath, your hands gripping tightly to Jake’s shoulders which forces his eyes to your face. He can make out the distinct shimmer of tears under your eyes, and he brushes his fingers across the side of your neck, tapping you to bring your eyes open and searching for him in the dark. 

“You with me?” he asks, chuckling slightly. “You good?”

“Oh my god,” you squeal, cunt clenching. “Wait—”

“Breathe,” Jake says quietly, pressing a kiss to the swollen bruise he sucked into your skin earlier. “You can do it, pretty girl.”

“Keep moving, it hurts when you just stay still.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he mutters, his hips falling back into a slow rhythm to keep you adjusted to his twitching cock. It’s almost disturbing how easily you’re taking him now he’s forced more of his length inside, how wet and responsive you seem to be as he sinks deeper into you.

At first, Jake goes slow, familiarising himself with every noise you give him, every twitch and shift in your body, every clench around him. You feel the smooth ridges of his cock kissing your insides, the sensation unfamiliar and strange but so fucking good. He snakes one hand under your back when you lift up off the boulder; his large palm is flat against the arch of your spine, his fingers curled around your hip. 

You look like a toy underneath him, something he could easily just hold with one hand and fuck himself up into.

His hips snap again, faster than he intended, and more of his dick disappears inside of you. You could easily take all of him if he took his time getting you to that point, but the warmth wrapping around him like a glove is so sinful that he can’t think of anything less appealing than going slow. He sucks in a deep breath through his teeth and squeezes your waist with his hand; one desperate little cry from your mouth later, and Jake forgives himself for having waited so long to get you in this position, to fuck you stupid. 

It’s been so long since Jake’s been able to fuck a woman like this, and for his first time since his accident to be with you, of all people — well, Jake could think of no greater victory, no better reward for all the shit he’s endured so far. 

He stares down at the gap between your legs, watching as his dick vanishes and reappears with every rock of his hips. You’re taking it so well, like a champion. Pride blooms in his chest — he’d expect nothing less from his woman.

Pulling your hips down slightly to meet him as he thrusts up, Jake shoulders the control and moans in a low tone, pushing until he feels your body seize underneath him. Then, he pulls back, falls back in, and gets himself comfortable.

The stretch no longer burns the way it did, but you feel as though you can barely breathe as Jake ruts his hips up. He’s so big in every definition of the word. He doesn’t seem to notice nor care about the deep indent of your fingernails in his shoulder; he seems entirely devoted to gaining momentum, creating his own pace with his ears flat against his bowed head.

“God… Jake,” you moan, feeling the slight point of the boulder against your shoulder blades and his hand squeezing your middle as you finally speak, after what feels like eons of silence to Jake.

He latches his gaze to the rise and fall of your breasts as he fucks you, his breathing heavy. “Oh, you like that?”

Ever so slightly, he hastens his pacing, eliciting a tearful sob from your mouth. “Mmf—”

“Is it everything you hoped for?”

His stomach churns when you laugh, albeit with a strangled kind of tone, and clench around his cock again.

“You’re so full of yourself.”

“So’re you,” he points out, lifting his chest slightly to glance down at your stomach. It should be criminal how turned on he feels by the sight of his own dick outlined in your lower tummy — it should be criminal how insanely good it feels knowing he’s fucking a part of you nobody else has before. You’ve lost all self control as you decide to let yourself be noisy, which Jake is all too pleased to hear.

Peering down at your hips, you marvel at the sight of Jake’s frightening length pushing up against your stomach. It looks just as weird as it feels. Jake hisses and runs a hand across the spot his dick is hitting.

“Feel that?” he asks. He knows you do. It’s a stupidly dumb question, but you whine at it all the same. “I told you it would fit. Look at you, taking it all, no problem.”

“Mhm. Feels good; so, so, so good, Jake…” Your body feels limp and tingly, and you let your head fall back so your gaze is pointed up at the sky. Even as you blink dazed up at them, they have the striking appearance of Jake’s skin, the dark blue wash of sky with littered balls of bright white light. The image of him is printed on your mind, and no matter where you look to avoid his gaze, you find him again.

Jake shifts. Keeping his dick sliding in and out of you with more of an upbeat rhythm than before, he bows his chest back over yours and brings his ears close to your ear.

“A perfect fit for my perfect girl,” he mutters. He becomes so reliant on his one hand on the boulder when he uses the other to hold your leg up around his waist, bringing forth an entirely new burn from the stretch of it. His breath is warm on your ear, making you shudder. “How long you been waiting for me, baby?”

You scoff disbelievingly, trying to think of something to say despite your mind being both full and empty at the same time. All you can think about is the building pressure in your tummy.

“Long,” you offer, snaking a hand up his neck to the back of his head. 

Jake licks his tongue across the arch of skin connecting your neck to your collar. “Thinking of me with your fingers up your cunt at night, huh?” His hand squeezes around your middle when you begin to shift with his thrusts further up the boulder. Even with your loud cries in his ear, Jake can hear the squelching wetness around his cock, the tightening spasms around his length bringing him closer to giving in to the dull ache in his own stomach. “Bet you wheelchair Jake Sully couldn’t make you feel like this. Next time you get off to the thought of him, I want you to think of what we’re doing right now, about who’s got you feeling this way.”

“How…how do you even know about that?” you gasp, half pleasured by his thrusting and half horrified by the revelation that Jake might have been privy to the fact you masturbated with him in mind when everyone went to bed at night.

Actually, he didn’t know. But he sniggers smugly that his teasing jeer turned out to be true. 

Jake presses a kiss to your collar and peppers a line of them up until he is thwarted by the mask covering your face. Peering down at your face hidden behind it, Jake gives you a sad pout and says, “I wanna go fast.”

“I…” you start, his hips already moving and you feel the heat simmering below again. Anymore from him, and you’ll be finished, cumming all over him. “I don’t think… I’ll — I’m gonna—”

“Then let’s get it done,” he says with as much finality and refine as he can muster before he picks himself back up, finding the energy he had before to pin you down against the boulder. You keep your leg wrapped around his waist as he sets one hand down over your tummy, the other on your shoulder, and then the real fun begins for him.

Jake isn’t ignorant to the twisting ache inside of him — like you, he knows he probably doesn’t have that much longer until he’s completely tuckered out and ready to fill you up. What can he say? It’s been a long time, and he doesn’t have the same kind of stamina as he used to. You’re tightening up around him in anticipation; it’s like being gripped in a vice. 

He pulls his hips back and then pistons himself back in with so much speed that you almost fly up off the boulder in surprise. Too fast, he thinks, so he gets accustomed to a regular fast pace and sticks to it loyally. In return, he’s rewarded with a litany of pretty sounds, your hands curling around his arms, desperately trying to hold on. 

“Yeah, oh yeah,” Jake groans, feeling your cunt fluttering around him as he fucks in and out, slipping in and out of your wetness as if he owns it. The hand that’s pressing your shoulder slips to your throat, and while he doesn’t squeeze, you claw your fingers around his and feel his grip tighten ever so slightly. 

“Fuck!” you squeal, clamping your eyes closed suddenly. “Shit—Jake, baby—”

He moans at that, really moans. A ringing rises in volume in his ears as his thrusts grow more rapid, relentlessly smacking his hips up until he slides all of his dick inside of you. 

God, you’re fucking perfect — he can’t name many women, if any at all, who could take a dick this size with as much ease as you are now. But the increasing pressure in your tummy is so overwhelming that you’re not even too aware of the size of what’s getting comfortable inside of you. All you know and understand is that in the next three seconds, you’ll be seeing white.

Jake’s name falls like a mantra from your lips, and he looks at you in surprise to see that you’ve very bravely opened your eyes to stare at him, although the tears lining your waterline and smeared down your cheeks make your stare look ten times more attractive to him. He almost wishes he hadn’t looked — his hips stagger slightly and he growls, the noise earning him another whiney moan from the undone woman beneath him, the woman he’s committed to filling with his cum and making his.

“I—!” You say nothing — you don’t even have to. Jake feels your cunt strangling his length like a goddamn fist, and by the buffering look of pure ecstasy on your face, he’s fairly certain all of those things mean you’re about to cum.

“Yeah, mama, cum for me,” Jake coaxes. “Lemme feel you.”

The warmth around him clenches, and all of a sudden, your body seizes with a jolt, your back arched so high off the boulder that it leaves him hitting entirely new angles inside of you, pushing your orgasm to a new level. 

For you, it feels like you’ve been blown up. Your entire body is consumed by a blazing heat, your legs going immediately limp as you cum around him. Jake’s eyes instantly shift to your quivering hips, to your cunt still swallowing him up, the white dribbles of cum leaking down the length of his cock. He watches the small cluster of glowing freckles decorating his dick disappear behind a rolling drop of your cum and his jaw goes slack.

“My girl,” he crows, his head bowing as he eagerly fucks into you a few more times, muttering the same thing as he does: “Oh, my girl, my pretty girl—”

The hand around your throat rips itself away only to squeeze into your hips, as though Jake intends to leave fingerprints there once he’s done. He grips you tightly and with a monumental and low, throaty moan, he snaps his hips one final time and feels a tug in his tummy.

You probably feel him cum before he does. Jake seems caught up in his thrusts while you register the unmissable burst of warmth inside of you, ropes of cum spilling out as if his sole intention were to breed you, stuff you full of his seed. 

In actual fact, Jake just wanted to fuck you silly, fill you with boat loads of cum, and bask in the evil satisfaction of watching Norm smell Jake all over you, claiming you as his. 

“Mm—fuck, Jake!” you rasp, squeezing your little hands around his wrists. The feeling is enough to bring him up to the surface he was drowning under, the ringing in his ears dulling as he catches his breath and opens his eyes, staring down at the embarrassingly wet mixture of cum and juice between your legs. 

He stays inside of you for a moment, his dick still hard and even more pronounced up your cunt than it was before, and it’s as if his eyes are unfocused in absolute awe as he observes the sight of you stretched open, locking him in place greedily. 

It sinks in that you managed to fit all of him in, that he just used his avatar to fuck you in the forest behind the lab. You. Norm’s sister. The object of his desire. The woman of his literal dreams.

Jake lets out a loud and heavy breath, a sigh of relief, and rubs his palms up and down your stomach gently. Despite having had him fucking you just seconds before, you feel a heat flush over your face when he looks up at your face, sweaty and tear-stained under the exo-pack, and he grins wolfishly.

“You’re incredible,” he laughs, which makes the act of looking at him feel ten times more rewarding. Your body warms with the praise: all you’ve wanted was for Jake to like you back, and now, to be full of his cum and knowing he thinks you’re incredible… You laugh with him. 

A few disbelieving laughs later, and Jake finally moves his hands under your thighs and slowly pulls himself out of you. The bump of each ridge along his length knocks past you, and Jake stifles a howl of laughter at the whiney, high-pitched moan you make as his cock pulls out of you with a slick, wet pop. He cranes his head slightly to watch his cum pool out of you and you pick yourself up on your forearms, looking for his dick between his legs to have a final peek, a good look at him covered in your cum and his…

Your eyes widen. “Your cum glows.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “What? Scientist of Pandora didn’t know Na’vi cum glowed?”

“I haven’t exactly had a selection of Na’vi men or women to tell me that it did!” you reason, your eyes still marvelling curiously at the shiny soft blue stain over the hanging fruit between his legs. 

He hums, poking a finger against your folds and smirking when you flinch. “Hm. Put that in your research notes. Wanna take samples?”

“Fuck off,” you laugh, keeping your legs wide as you struggle to sit upright. The discomfort between your legs is suddenly making itself known, and already the cum around your pussy and thighs is drying, sticky and thick. “Jesus, Sully. Look at me.”

“I know,” grins Jake, his eyes soaking up the image of you. “You’re fucking sexy.”

You roll your eyes with a twisting smile. While Jake seems incredibly fascinated with the marks he has either left accidentally or on purpose over your body, you groan and roll your shoulders. Frankly, you wish Jake had just thrown you down on the grass and fucked you there — in hindsight, the boulder had been a bad idea and you know it will come to haunt you in the morning.

Lazily, and yet with a rush of shame and exhilaration, you glance back at the lab, sitting in the curve of moonlight and caged by bioluminescent flowers and shrubs, each glowing vibrant spectrums of cyan and purple and lime. 

“You’re the luckiest woman alive if nobody heard you yapping,” Jake says playfully, rising upright to stretch the agonised muscles of his legs. “You’re so noisy, honey.”

“I apologise for not thinking too much about the volume of my voice,” you drawl sarcastically, your eyes still glued to the glazed thick glass windows looking into the back of the lab. Anxiously, you glance at him, “Was I that loud?”

He gives you a tight, sympathetic smile. You frown.

“You weren’t quiet yourself, you know,” you grumble, feeling the pinch in your back ease slightly.

“Yep.” And he seems smug about that fact, for reasons beyond you, although you wager a guess as to why he seems proud all of a sudden.

As you shuffle awkwardly off the boulder, you wince as you lean for your shorts and panties, dropping a little look at the sliding dollop of cum slipping out of you. 

“You gotta keep it in there,” Jake says. 

“Jake, as soon as I stand up and walk around, it’s all gonna come pouring out anyway.”

His lip curls with disappointment as he watches his cum drip out of you onto the edge of the boulder, splatting on the wisps of grass around your ankles. It’s a good thing he’s full of copious reserves of cum to give back to you another time.

“Can’t wait for Norm to get a whiff of me,” Jake tells you, and you fight the urge to sigh and roll your eyes, because of course — of course that had been a motive for the gallon of glowing blue sperm Jake just squoze into you. “The look on his face when he figures out I’ve been breedin’ his little sister—”

“I have never been more thankful of the fact that Na’vi and humans can’t reproduce together. Hand on my heart, I mean that.”

You slide your shorts and panties back up your legs and reach for your thrown tank top. The inconspicuous smudges of green from the boulder across the back of it fill you with a puny drop of dread — you’ll just pray really hard to both God and Eywa that nobody pays it any mind. 

That and the bulbous bruise on your tit, the bite on your leg, the finger indents on your hips.

“I was doing that thing you were doing. Killing two birds with one stone,” Jake says as he searches the ground for his tewng. “Fucking you ‘cause I wanted to and fucking you because I know wanting you is gonna piss off your annoying big brother.”

You had said that, hadn’t you? And even though the entire scheme of Jake wanting to scorn your brother so badly that he has to use you as a human fuck-toy seems ludicrous, you can’t deny the very minuscule jolt of thrill it gives you. It would be fun to piss Norm off a little bit. He has been a total arse lately.

“Norm’s all you think about,” you tease. “You sure you don’t like him instead?”

“Shut up.”

Jake hands you your cardigan with an amused smile, his tail whipping to and fro happily. 

“Your coat, ma’am.”

“Love how you only have one thing to slip back into,” you point out as you take the cardigan from him, and he reaches for the tewng and chuckles. “You could’ve just lifted it up.”

“Could’ve, would’ve, didn’t,” he replies.

There’s an uncharacteristic silence between you both as you climb back into your clothes, and while Jake fiddles with his tewng with his tongue between his lips, you look back at the lab and sigh. 

Somewhere in that lab is the man you’ve been thinking of for two months — Jake in his human form, lying in a link unit as he takes control through another body. You wonder what he might think when he wakes up: will he come searching for you in the dark? Come kiss you, tell you how he feels?

Jake creeps up to you with an alarming light foot, and the feeling of his hand on top of your head makes you look up suddenly. 

“What’s on your mind?” he asks. 

“You,” you sigh, looking back at the lab. “Are you going to follow through with tonight when you’re back as yourself, or is this an avatar Jake exclusive?”

“Come on. You still want that loser in there?” Jake feels his heart tug — he doesn’t know if to feel offended that you’re still thinking of someone else, or flattered because that someone else is technically him, the real him, the version of him that Jake hates the most.

“You’re so mean to him,” you grumble. Then pause, and add, “To you. That’s literally still you in there. If anything, doesn’t that make me look a little bit obsessed?” Jake gently pushes your head as you fall into a slow walk in the direction of the remote lab. “Wow. Actually, I just realised that’s true.”

“Finding out that you liked me was the only reason I started spending more than five minutes at a time in the lab,” Jake tells you. 

“Who told you?”

You both accept a short silence as you stride past the wall that most of the bunks are built against, and you feel an anxious knot forming in your stomach when the clearing at the front of the lab expands into view. 

“I meant it when I said you were horrible at hiding your crush on me,” Jake reminds you. 

Right. 

The tsawksyul Jake found you is thankfully still where you left it, and you slip out of Jake’s touch to fetch it from under the window, but when you turn to him, his eyes are pulled back across the miles of suspended mountains.

“You have somewhere else to be?” you call.

His top lip curls into a half pout as he says, “Not now. But tomorrow I’ve got to do some hunting. If I make a clean kill, I start my iknimaya.”

“Impressive,” you comment, twirling the tsawksyul between your fingers. “You… Will you be gone long?”

Jake hesitates for a moment. Is he reading into it, or are you looking a little bit more crestfallen now you know he’ll be gone for a little while longer?

“Why, you wanna go again?” he asks with a laugh.

“Respectfully, I think my vagina is broken and I need to lie down,” you quip, making him laugh even more. “I was just…curious. If you’re gone too long, I’ll be asleep before you get back.”

Jake creeps towards you and drops to a painful crouch. He’s definitely going to feel the cry and protest in his legs in the morning from being haunched for so long. Still, he frames your face with his hands and takes a long look at your face.

“I’ll roll past your bed extra quietly,” he promises. 

You snort and push yourself away from him. “Safe travels, big guy. I’ll see you in the morning?”

Peering up at him, you breathe in the sight of him one last time as he nods once and rises to stand. The long shadow drawn by his lithe figure falls over you.

“Affirmative,” he states. You look up at him for a second and smile. Did it take having his cock in your stomach for you to realise how pretty he is like this, or have you known all along?

“Go,” you tell him, nodding towards the edge of the cliff before turning to the door. Over your shoulder, Jake scoffs a laugh and turns on his heels, his eyes scanning the mountain range as he approaches the edge. 

The bravery you had before died long ago and you quickly twist the air-lock to the door and force it open, your heart in your throat. You don’t look back at him, even when he looks back at you with an endearing smile on his face.

The lab is deathly silent when you slide back inside. You were half expecting someone to stir at the sound of the door sealing shut, but if anyone’s awake, they make no effort to show it. Tip-toeing to the small bathroom, you very hurriedly go about your business and wipe away the eternal flood of cum from between your legs. With the amount Jake just put inside you, you’re fairly confident that even a human with an average sense of smell could sniff him all over you.

The long stalk back to your bunk is made silently and carefully. Norm is fast asleep on the top bunk he unhappily shares with Jake, the aforementioned’s bunk empty and cold, the link unit whirring quietly. Just the sight and sound of it makes you unnaturally nervous, and you turn to speed towards your bottom bunk and peer at Trudy. She’s out like a light. 

The thin blanket is pulled to your chin once you settle in the sheets, and you refuse to accept that it’s cowardice you feel when the sound of the link unit slowly begins to fade and Jake hauls himself out with a pained groan. You remain very still as he fumbles for his chair, though you fight the urge to get up, help him and while you’re at it, kiss him until he can’t breathe.

You hope your acting has improved since your terrible attempts of hiding your crush and try to make it look as though you’re asleep, but the distinct sound of rolling wheels makes its way towards where you sleep; you steady your breaths so it looks like you’re out of it, and perhaps Jake will fall for it this time. 

Your stomach tightens when the wheels stop next to your bed, and you’re uncomfortably aware of the set of eyes staring at you curled up and facing the wall.

Jake’s hand brushes the back of your head gently, and you’re not sure if that means you’ve been caught, but then you feel Jake’s fingers brush a section of hair away from your neck and nearly sigh at the feeling of his mouth pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. It is so sweet, so fond and gentle, and annoyingly quick. He pulls away and the sound of wheels roll towards his own bunk.

Every sound he makes feels like it’s right in your ear. 

You almost wish you’d rolled over and took his face into your hands. But Jake’s smooch against your nape feels like a stolen secret, something shared between only you two, something special. 

No matter, you think as you wriggle to get comfortable. He’ll be there in the morning. And it’ll be the man you’ve wanted the entire time who wants you back who receives all your stirring desires.

[bcyhoods]

WITH FIREWORKS! STEVE

synopsis : after a date at the carnival, steve gives you your first kiss! (prompt: “was that your first kiss?”)

word count : 1.6k

author’s note : repost from my old blog! i fixed her up a little bit, endured changing past to present tense just for you so….

“Those games were totally rigged,” Steve huffs as he prods at the small teddy bear clutched in his hands.

You’re situated on the hood of his car, smiley lips tinged blue thanks to the half-eaten cone of cotton candy in your hands. Steve stands in between your legs with a pout as his free hand rests beside your thigh, finger itching to graze your skin as it taps the metal of his car. The summer sun has just dipped below the horizon, but his face is illuminated by the multicolored lights of the fair behind you. Even with a sullen attitude, he just looks so pretty.

It was only your third official date — excluding the weekly, hour-long visits to Family Video, which Robin made sure to tease him for — and Steve figured it was time to rattle his feathers, so to speak. He wanted to impress you by showing off his athleticism, and carnival games provided an exemplary opportunity to do just that.

He envisioned your arms full and occupied by the array of giant prizes he won for you. You’d watch with an endearing grin on your face every time he beat a game. The night would end with your arms thrown around his shoulders and the perfect kiss that had you both swooning.

With fireworks in the background, obviously.

But luck had strayed far away from Steve Harrington’s side. Far, far away.

“Oh, they were, were they?”

“Definitely. ‘You can only throw it with an underhand,’” Steve mocks the game attendant with a husky voice — a terrible impression, really, but he knew it’d make you laugh. “That’s a made up rule. For sure. I’ve never heard that rule before. Ridiculous.”

The boy sighs defeatedly, letting you take the bear from his hand before running his fingers through his, now disheveled hair. The brown locks had endured the torment throughout the night as he increasingly became more and more stressed. And he didn’t want to admit he was embarrassed, it felt entirely dramatic and silly. But he was, and the way he avoided your gaze while his teeth worried his bottom lip was enough of a tell.

He laughs meekly at himself and squeezes the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, I was trying so hard to win one of those gigantic bears — too hard.”

You hum as your eyes scan over the stuffie. It was no bigger than the length of your hand. Its body was stiff and straight and a tuft of cotton spilled out from under its right arm due to a couple frayed stitches. The ribbon around its neck was barely being held together with a glob of hot glue.

“I like this one, it’s cute.” At his scoff, you double down, “I’m serious! It’s got a lot of charm to it. It’s perfect.”

You move your attention from the bear to Steve only to find that he’s already looking at you. His gaze is incredibly soft, smile lines decorating the corners of his lips as his tongue is coyly tucked into his cheek. His eyes are brimming with love, you think you might burst the longer they’re on you. He finally lets himself graze the skin of your thighs as a subtle thank you. The attention was all-consuming, it made it hard for you to focus. It was hard to do much of anything really, with him looking at you like that.

Quickly, you clear your throat and look up into the sky in abrupt thought. “I think I’m going to name him…Eve.”

“Eve? Eve the bear?”

“Mmhmm,” you affirm with the wave of the cotton candy, “Eve ‘The Bear’ Bearington.”

A huff resembling a short laugh leaves his mouth as he drops his chin down. Lowly, he mutters, “You’re unbelievable,” before looking up at you again with a doting grin. He moves to shake the bear’s hand gingerly, holding it between his thumb and his index, and bowing his head.

“Nice to meet you, Eve. You’re looking a little rough, bud. Bad hangover?”

You scoff and protectively pull Eve into your chest as if it were a child. The chuckle that reverberates through his chest encourages your heart to dither as heat rises to the tips of your ears. “That was very rude, Harrington,” you reply, feigning shock while trying to fight off the smile creeping onto your lips. It doesn’t work.

“What? No, Eve didn’t think it was rude. I’ve been there before, I’m sure he appreciates my empathy,” Steve argues, eyes momentarily flitting to the cotton candy that sat untouched in your hand for the past few minutes. As he nonchalantly stretches his hand out to pull a piece of the sweet, you move your arm out of his reach.

He glares at you with a tilt of his head. You raise your eyebrows to challenge him.

“Bullies don’t get sweets.”

A small gasp emanates from him before his lips are twisting into an impish lopsided smile. He tsk’s and takes a small step back. “Well, that’s too bad…because it just tastes so,” he looks away innocently, “…much,” he pauses.

”…Better!” He lunges forward earning a yelp from you as one arm wraps around your waist while the other moves to grab at the cotton candy. His fingers curl into your sides, eliciting a fit of laughs and giggles to fall clumsily from your sugar-coated tongue which makes it that much harder to fight against him.

Albeit, you don’t cease, pushing against his shoulder and still trying to stretch your arm as far away from him as possible. But it was no use as he slightly lifted you up off the car for just a moment to pull you flush against him. Your legs reflexively wrap around his hips and once you drop the bear, your unoccupied hand grips a handful of his polo for stability. The action had taken you by surprise, being too distracted to push him away when he ducks his head down to take a bite of the candy floss.

“Yup, just as I thought. Ten times better,” he preaches, letting it dissolve on his tongue to savor the flavor.

You’re sure you look a mess. Your eyes must be glazed over complimented by your lips still parted in shock. Your chest is rising and falling in a quick, inconsistent pattern as you try to collect yourself. Again, Steve has thrown your train of thought completely off course.

“You suck,” you manage to say. It was a lame attempt at an insult. But the words were practically dripping with adoration, all he could do was smile.

“Yeah?”

You nod meekly.

You’re certain he can feel your heart thumping wildly against your ribcage, certain that even through the background carnival noises and both your uneven breaths, he could hear it, as well.

And despite being so sure of your dumbfounded expression, Steve thought you looked so beautiful like this. In disarray, your sweater fell off your shoulders to hang loosely on your arms and your hand is holding his shirt so tightly like it was a lifeline. His eyes dart to your lips to trace over your cupid’s bow before glancing back up to find your eyes.

And you thought he looked just as pretty. His nearness was entirely disorienting. You could smell the saccharine hint of stolen cotton candy mingled with his ever-prized Calvin Klein cologne. His hair had fallen handsomely over his forehead. The moles and freckles scattered across his face are more fascinating than ever as you count them until you reach his lips. How soft and inviting they looked.

You’re so completely enamored, you don’t even register when he leans in, brushing his lips against your own in a feather-light kiss. Your breath hitches in your throat and before you can even bring yourself back down to earth, he begins to pull away.

“Sorry, I thought…”

He moves to step away from you, but your legs tighten around him to keep him in place as your fingers wrap around the wrist on your waist.

“No! I’m sorry, I…it was nice, it’s just I haven’t…I mean, I’ve never…” You swallow down a lump in your throat as you feel your eyes start to water.

The second you glance up to gauge his reaction, you regret it. You watch his eyes widen in realization and feel his grip on your waist go slack. Hiding your face behind clammy hands, you groan and drop your head to his shoulder. Your entire body felt like it was on fire and you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

“Was that your first kiss?”

You nod timidly, dragging your hands down to your lap to wring out your fingers, your gaze immediately following. And Steve is not malicious, he’d never laugh at you, but you feel just a little mortified that you froze up.

“Hey,” he cooed, delicately cupping your cheek and lifting your head. “It’s okay. Don’t be embarrassed.” The words are hushed and soft, a sweet reassurance that causes your insides to melt.

“Was it…was it good?” he asks.

The question makes you giggle, “I dunno, I didn’t really get a chance to return the favor.”

He nods, the beginnings of a wide smile slowly making its way onto his blushing face. “Right…do you maybe, wanna try again?”

You mirror his expression before you’re the one leaning in this time, a kiss that he reciprocates feverishly. His lips slot against your own as his arm tightens around your waist once more. Your fingers dip into hair and he hums against you at the feeling before pulling away.

You giggle at the dazed look on his face and his kiss-bitten lips.

“How was that one?” he asks, eyes shamelessly journeying over your face.

“It was perfect.”

[yanderestarangel]

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐲𝐳𝐨𝐭𝐡 - 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐢����𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬 ⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰

‧₊˚✧˖°💌 in my syzoth era, I had never noticed him, but now I have... so get ready for lots of fics from this bbg on my profile. Requests about him are also welcome! just read the rules first <3

𝐓𝐖: afab anatomy, ftm reader, v!sex, overstimulation, soft!dom syzoth, confused feelings on the part of the reader, little angst, reader has trust issues, passionate syzoth, unprotected sex, cum play, smut, porn plot, praise.

You and Syzoth just had a friendship with benefits, you didn't want a serious relationship with anyone after all the messy breakups you suffered in the past ⸺ however, he only left it because he was always in love with you, and you knew it, but he was with afraid of getting involved again.

It was another night that you called him to your house, and he seemed softer... more insecure too. "-I really like spending time with you dear..." Syzoth spoke calmly, as if he wanted to say something to more, but refrained for fear of your reaction ⸺ You slowly took off your clothes, replying that you also enjoyed his company, however, putting emphasis on the phrase "friendship with benefits"; soon getting on top of the tattooed man's lap, he was still wearing his clothes while you lightly rubbed yourself against his growing erection, you notice a vague, but evident sadness in Syzoth's eyes when he looks at you.

"-Dearest (Y/N)... I have thought about how much you mean to me and..." He starts breathing heavily as his hands gently touch your hips with remarkable timidity; it is clear that he hopes to calm down any nervousness this conversation might cause "-I know we said no strings attached, but I can not help but feel something deeper for you." He uttered softly. You sighed, obviously you enjoyed the Zeterran's company, he treated you extremely well, he was a gentleman, he listened to you and understood you, but fear still consumed you.

You took his dick out of his pants, watching the pulsing shaft jump and leak pre semen, rubbing your pussy along its length, saying again that the two of you had talked about it, trying to divert the focus from your heart racing because of the man below you ⸺ he bites his lip nervously before responding in a husky tone as you touch him.

"-I know—but it feels so good to be with you... I won't force anything on you... I know we said that... But since the day we started this arrangement, my feelings for you have grown much stronger." His voice was filled with an unspoken plea for understanding that might not translate well into words.

He groans softly at the sensation caused by your fingers moving over his cock while rubbing against your wet cunt; he holds onto your hips gently trying not push himself more than necessary despite these impulses stirring inside him. "-I know it can be scary... but please trust me..." He whispers fervently right before his lips gently brush against your cheek; the tip of forked tongue emerging briefly only to vanish back inside just as quickly—subtle reminder of who he is – then looks deeply into your eyes again... He knew how much you suffered, but he wasn't like anyone you had been involved with, he loved you more than anything, he needed someone to care for, he needed to be loved and love you.

As each inch goes deeper inside of you, a low growl escapes from him, he was trying desperately maintain control over himself due to the intense desire gnawing at him. "-I won't ever do anything that hurts or disappoints my sweetheart."

Syzoth's eyes glaze over with raw lust. The sight of his dick disappearing into your pussy is too much for him to handle right now - every twitch and contraction makes him feel in control but also dangerously close to losing it all... just like those thrilling circus acrobatics. "-You are so tight... Oh god... Fuck baby... You are driving me insane-" His hips moved rhythmically beneath him and tendons popped up on either side of his muscular thighs clearly showing how much power each thrust carrie.

"-You look so beautiful while taking me... my sweet petite little thing." He growls out almost incoherently before kissing your neck passionately while his erection glides effortlessly within you; body pressing against yours intimately - skin touching sweaty skin. His cock throb harder, leaking a trail of precum that trickled down onto the bedding below.

His breath was hot against your neck, his tongue flicking out to taste the saltiness of sweat dripping down your skin – almost like a hungry animal seeking sustenance. "-Please... tell me you trust me..." He pleaded with those beautiful puppy dog eyes that held so much vulnerability and desire mixed together perfectly; "-I've never wanted anything more than to please you... Just let go darling... Let yourself fall into this moment with me- Tell me... tell me you need it... say it!" he demanded hoarsely "-T-Tell me that you want more of my cock. "

Your brain was confused, the haze of pleasure consumed you, you just let the words run wild in the space of the room, opening up your fears and feelings while Syzoth fucked you harder every second, feelings that were locked deep inside your core hurt by people from past, every word was heard by your dominant ⸺ "-I will give you, all the love... - whatever it takes, let these fears go..." Syzoth pleads softly in your ear once again before starting to kiss along its length loudly slurping noises resonating throughout room due their intensity level. "-Just let yourself fall into my arms completely… Trust yourself to be safe with me right now."

He could feel tears streaming down your cheeks while panting heavily underneath him – wanting nothing but for her satisfaction. It seemed like a battle between two forces within them: fear versus love—fear of getting hurt again against an undeniable yearning towards one another. "-Cum all over my cock baby... let me feel every single contraction." His hands reach up to caress and squeeze your breasts roughly while continuing to thrust into you deeply; nipples erect from the rough treatment. "-You're so close, aren't you?" he asked soft "-I can feel it building up inside you... tell me when you're about to come..."

You finally reach the edge, shaking and mouthing his name over and over as you throw your head back in ecstasy. Syzoth couldn't help but let out a growl of his own, feeling the walls tighten around him and your fluids mixing with precum that had leaked earlier - yet another trigger for him.

"-C-Cumming..." He curses breathlessly as he pulls back slightly – cum shooting across your chest in thick ropes; body shuddering violently from this intense orgasm. "-Oh fuck!- That's it baby... you look fucking beautiful when you cum for me boy- holy shit-" Syzoth praises hoarsely between gasps for air while still stroking himself above you - enjoying each spasm wracking through his body after depositing his load on you lovingly. He falls onto bed next to my shivering form - both panting heavily.

Syzoth's breathing slowly starts to stabilize, his chest heaving up and down in sync with yours, "-I don't know what the future holds for us... But... I want you to be my partner... My first choice." His hand reaches out tentatively towards yours—seeking contact as if testing the waters before fully committing; "-Let me make you happy again... you can be my boy... and I can be yours..." His other arm wraps comfortably around you, pulling you closer into his chest – feeling safer with every passing second together against the darkness outside your world - You didn't know what it would be like, but you wanted to try, for you and for lover... Syzoth.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[ctheathy]

Yandere Changelings w/ human!Darling

The Changelings x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Author's note: Gotta love these big buggo babies

reformed Changelings < unreformed Changelings

The Changelings/Reader [Platonic+Romantic-ish?]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

The Reader is quite humble • Abduction • Jealousy between changelings • Stalking • Invasion of privacy • Co-dependency • Aggression • Use of adhesive/the green goo • Violence • Possessiveness • Overprotective behaviour • Predatory behaviour • Love feeding • Overfeeding/“Overdosing” on love • Heart failure • Corpses of changelings mentioned

Changelings have certainly never had a very positive reputation around Equestria. The species of bug-like creatures mainly known to have ruthless mannerisms that only acts on instinct. Especially when considering the changelings eat love and love alone to keep them from starving. As you can see... These creatures, too, need to feed. And so steal the love hidden within ponies and other living entities for themselves with brute force. And this tiny human here... has love, and a lot of it.

But despite being an aggressive species, they are also known to be rather curious towards creatures they've never seen or heard of before. Which is why being a human is really just a saving grace for you in this scenario. Cause instead of pouncing immediately purely from starving impulse, they know they'd need information to report back to the Queen first. And since this is the first human the changelings have ever met, their natural reaction to encountering a new species is to learn more about it instead of feeding off of it, atleast not before they got all the answers they'd be satisfied with. Considering you are the only source of love and affection around.

The first changelings that have noticed your presence may start seeing you as a tasty morsel. if love is like meat for them, then they're being deprived of it, and then the one creature comes along that's a walking talking buffet of love. They'd observe your actions and behaviours from a safe distance for a little while, taking note of aggression signs or being a potential threat to the hive. But in truth... you weren't. You were more of a lover than a fighter, which gave the changelings the signal to not waste any other opportunity to abduct you into the hive for some answers.

And that's... when something sparked.

Being calm and sedate in your position would usually cease a changelings’ natural instinct to hunt and would often cause in less aggression and forceful measurements. But even if they did try feeding from your love, that would be similar to essentially trying to suck from a dry well, because the transporting process from the human realm to Equestria drained you of many strong emotions to begin with, and it takes a lot more time for your entire alternation from universe to universe to take full effect. And the changelings wouldn't budge from their stubbornness until you reached out to one of them... Brushing a gentle hand over its malnourished frame.

The love that you'd contain would be a tad bit ‘different’ from normal love they'd consume, mainly due to the fact that they never had to actually take it with force. You gave it to them willingly, making the love inserted into them a lot stronger and effective than if they were to steal it. Which results in giving their bodies an intense emotional ‘shock’ as you basically feed them little by little... The shock would still feel good to them, like it would make them feel warm and light headed, but their heart would begin beating rapidly by the shot of immense adrenaline they just got.

The reason why changelings need love and affection in the first place was because they need it for their survival. The value feeds them. As they learn you're capable of feeling and giving love, they would want to keep you around permanently to feed. However, in extreme cases it might lead to a changeling becoming dependent upon one person's love. And their survival might be based on that person's love and affection. and what happens when that person's love and affection starts to falter? There is such a darker side to something so innocent as eating some consensual love.

Which could go either two ways...

Plan A being a bit more complicated. Since they ended up taking a ‘sample’ of you to basically extract the hormones and emotions of love, you had proven yourself to be more productive than all of the ponies they've held captive combined. Feeling more satisfied with the mere sip of love you've happily handed out to them than with any usual prey they had ripped the love from. But the Queen desires love too, because it is essential for their race. And because the hive is almost completely devoid of any love in the first place. You could become a sample for the Queen... Just keeping you there and farm you for love.

But there's also a considerable chance the changelings who captured you would scrap plan A and would instead focus on a plan B... Keep you a secret from Queen Chrysalis and prevent you from being cocooned at all costs, but only under the condition if you keep blindly feeding them with your lovey-dovey personality. Changelings tend to function with a very strict hive mentality... conclusions are set by the swarm's majority of drones’ standpoint. They all have a strong tendency to fall for group decision-making, but they're also quick to swap their beliefs if it seems like the right choice for the best of the colony. So it likely wouldn't even take long for the entire swarm to come to an agreement to keep you secured under high protection and warding.

Due to being a good source, you would give them more positive energy than any other creature who would falter in their fright after being captured... which would make you a rather popular target for the swarm of drones. To a point where the entire hive would start to view you as the "heart of the colony" of sorts. Because a changelings emotions are based on their diet. And the more love they receive, the more addicted and obsessed they'll become with it. So they would all be head over heels at some point, bordering on complete worship ...viewing you as an object of their affection and admiration. And getting even more physically violent to defend and protect you from what they consider a threat to their food source.

They might be feeding off of the love you give them and emotional positivity for now. But if they keep feeding and feeding, eventually they are probably going to want something else than just your emotions, which isn't good... But at the end of it all, they will want to protect you. But their methods might be a bit morally questionable. They have been looking for a more ‘sustaining’ source of love their entire lives. And from what we know... love only grows stronger.

So what happens when a creature becomes utterly emotionally dependant on someone?

What if... they begin to get obsessive?

Instead deciding to ensure no one else gets to have you?

Signs of attacks outside of the hive would become more apparent as time went on, a variety of breeds beginning to disappear aside with half dead creatures covered in adhesive emerging from their hideout as no entity even dares to get close to the shapeshifters. Some changelings would begin arguing with eachother over the delightful taste of your love. But knowing how naturally greedy and hostile they can get, these would convert to physical violence sooner or later, causing a bunch of internal conflict in the colony. A bunch of love starved changelings just riskily fighting over a single human.

It would get so bad, in fact, that there's possibly not even second you'll spend in the hive without a changeling being nearby, just ... watching you. With or without you knowing, there to strike and pull you back in at a moments notice if your demeanor gets too close to flight response. The changeling that you first bonded with would feel remorse about doing it, but the rest of them won't really care much as long as they can keep you in their grasp. Though you would still be allowed to travel closely outside of the hive, they'll keep their little eyes on you anyway...

You'd have this love that's a bit diluted, but even with just having a weaker type of love to feed off of, they'd have to feed for a longer time and drain their energy in order to get it. Which in terms causes in them taking more than they can physically handle. You aren't necessarily a dry well, but rather more of a dripping faucet while they are all dying of thirst. So they could still eat from your given love for a while, but if they try to go all out, there could be horrific consequences...

Because each of them are essentially trying to take enough to survive, their individual feeding sessions can become more aggressive. They don't want to kill you, nor do they understand how strong of a heart you have. So they don't see that they need to be gentle. Because in their eyes, you're considered weaker as a mortal. And your emotions, not being very strong, make their hearts race and they aren't feeding slowly and cautiously enough to keep the heart beating at its normal pace. You're basically a complete reverse card on them. To the point of them becoming so infatuated with you, that they literally forget what they are doing, and basically, accidentally kill themselves with a massive case of overdosing love.

The more of your love they take, the more they will like you. And the more they like you, the more they would try to suck it out. And the more they try to suck it out, the more it would turn into a "want" instead of something more natural. And then, that's when some would begin to die from overfeeding. The emotional shock and overdosing on love being much more overwhelming than the changeling's bodies are capable of handling. And of course, you wouldn't really understand why they were all suddenly lifelessly scattered around you...

It would be quite a challenge for many changelings to have the self control to prevent that fate. I doubt the majority of them would even understand the concept of death enough to avoid it even when their heart rate was going at unsafe speeds. The situation would honestly be safe for the changelings that have enough self-control to hold themselves back, but those who don't would become history real quick... Especially as changelings mainly seem to cocoon their prey. You may have more love to give when you're out in the open, but perhaps you even walking freely might just be enough to push many changelings over the edge.

Though this would also highly depend on the distinct personality of each changeling. Those who were more reasonable would try to just suckle in love. Then we have those who would become a bit feral and aggressive trying to tear the love out of you. Making it like a really twisted irony that they want love, but by trying to obtain love, in this way, they could essentially doom themselves. The ones who are more in control and more disciplined may survive. But either the greedier or younger, more immature changelings might get too excited and just want more and more. Which leads into them destroying their bodies via the very thing they wanted. The ones that do manage to control themselves will remain very interested in you however. But even if their fair sense of attachment and perhaps even bond towards you won't fade...

This is nothing more and nothing less than a parasitic relationship

[pennyellee]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings (preview only): minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, incision wound, blood, suicide attempt, strong language, mentions of God, ...

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 583

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

author's note: well, yall, life is getting in my way, it's certainly keeping me from finishing this chapter, but it shouldn't be that long before I actually do. I wanted to drop a little preview before the sacred day I was born, which is tomorrow, 1-2-3 birthday depression. Enjoy the preview and stay tuned for the chapter. I'll be also answering some asks tomorrow, yes, i see them, and i love you all so so so so much, I just have very little of free time lately. See ya soon! lots of love, p. 𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡🫧

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VII CHAPTER VIII

Time seemed to slow as Yoongi lunged forward, reaching out to stop her, but it was too late. The blade sliced through her skin, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as pain seared through her, her vision swimming with darkness. She felt Yoongi’s hands on her, his panicked voice calling out to her, but it was distant as if coming from a faraway place.

“Seokjin?!!” he shouted, his voice raw with desperation.

He cradled her in his arms, his hands trembling as he pressed against the wound, trying desperately to stem the flow of blood.

The sound of loud footsteps echoed in the corridor as others rushed forward to reach the doctor, their expressions a mix of horror and disbelief. But amidst the chaos, Y/N’s empty gaze remained fixed on Yoongi, her eyes still burning with flames.

“Stay with me, baby. Don’t leave me please.” Yoongi whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. He pressed his lips to her forehead, willing her to hold on, to fight for her life.

But as he looked down at her pale, lifeless face, he knew that the road ahead would be long and fraught with challenges. For now, all he could do was pray that she would survive, that she would find the strength to forgive him and that they would someday find their way back to each other.

“Please don’t take her away from me, my Lord.”

Yoongi prayed that it was not too late to save her from the darkness that threatened to consume them both.

One thing remained clear in Yoongi’s mind: he would do whatever it took to save her, to make amends for the pain he had caused, and to prove to her that his love was worth fighting for.

Yoongi’s voice cut through the turmoil, his words a desperate plea for forgiveness. He begged for her to forgive him, to give him another chance to make things right. No more secrets, no more lies. No more pain. He was willing to rebuild their relationship from the ground up, on a foundation of honesty and trust.

The metallic scent of blood mingled with the tang of fear, thickening the air with a palpable sense of impending doom. He ripped one of his sleeves a while ago, pressing the roughly crimpled fabric to the wound, praying that Seokjin was near. Or did anyone hear him scream frantically enough to relay the message?

“You can’t leave me, baby, please. I promise we’ll work everything through.”

He kissed and caressed her hair with his free hand which was covered with her blood. Tears blurred his vision as his hand trembled at the sight. A blood he never wished to shed.

“Please, Y/N, you have to forgive me.” The weight of his actions pressed down on him like a leaden blanket, suffocating him with the weight of his mistakes.

“Fucking goddammit Yoongi!”

—

Y/N set the plates on the table, pouring the hot water into a kettle of green tea as he joined her at the table. They exchanged smiles, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the kitchen and the windows providing a magnificent view of the sea.

“I’ve been thinking,-” she said with a smile on her face while she set the seaweed salad down in front of him. He hummed in response, reading today’s paper.

“About opening my practice.” He nodded, sipping his tea thoughtfully.

“Thought you wanted to wait until the babe arrives?”

.

.

.

.

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧

©pennyellee. please do not repost

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

PS: accounts highlighted in pink cannot be tagged, so if you want to be in the tag list, please make sure you have it allowed in your settings. 𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts @seonghwaexile

[factual-fantasy]

24 asks!! :0000🌟🎭🌟

I HAVE!!! :DDDD

Kinger and Caine are my favorite characters! I've seen a lot of theories and fanart and I've already started making my own AU and angst and everything but I cant DRAW any of that yet because I'm REALLY BUSY with an OVERDUE PROJECT AAAAA

(In recent development, Asgore is unable to heal Spamton because he is a darkener :((( )

I think it might have been addressed at one point yeah :0 Maybe something was wrong with Seam and Asgore reached out to help. In which Seam was terrified and Jevil jumped in to protect him. Asgore could see the trauma and tension in the both of them so he carefully backed off.

Later he could hear from Seam about their pasts and why they were afraid of him. Asgore would then try to take steps to.. not..? Be scary to them?? <:D

Spade king could have talked in a very gravely and booming voice. So Asgore is sure to always talk softly and clearly. He is careful to not make any sudden movements around Seam and Jevil. If he's reaching for something near Seam/Jevil he will gently announce what he's doing and make sure they understand before he does it.

Asgore with his hands in his lap: "Seam, I want to grab that bag.."

Seam: *turns "huh?"

Asgore, hands still in his lap: "That bag beside you, I'd like to grab it."

Seam: "oh, okay,"

Asgore then gently reaches for the bag, making sure that Seam can see his hand coming.

Little things like that would really ease Seam and Jevils nerves. And its what made Asgore so trustworthy to them. The fact that he cared so much about their comfort and went above and beyond to make sure they felt safe around him.

Not really a parental figure. He sees Seam as his equal in every way. So like.. he sees him as his brother of the same age.?

@beryl-shade

Oh he didn't lock Seam up in a cell. He just put shackles around his wrists and neck :00

The thing about Jevil is that the bigger the group got, the worse his habits became. And the harder it became to break those habits.. Jevil was the one who collected these people, so they are his responsibility. Giving up his food not just for Seam, but for everyone. Staying awake to keep the fire large and roaring to keep the group warm.

The others try to help him.. but they would have a hard time getting Jevil to listen to them. Telling him he needs to eat, sleep or just relax. He probably wouldn't listen because he's a bit stubborn and is probably riddled with anxiety 24/7.

Although when Asgore came around things got a lot easier.

Asgore is very powerful and has proved his trustworthiness multiple times to Seam and Jevil. So although the royal vibe is off putting.. Jevil trusts him to watch the fire at night and protect the group. Seam has been able to reason with Jevil about the food part a little too.

Jevil: "You need this food more than me. You gotta keep your strength up until we can find someone to break these chains!"

Seam: "Jevil, you consume energy to make those mirrors to other worlds. How are you supposed to keep looking for someone to break my chains, if you're collapsed on the ground, too weak to make another mirror?"

Jevil: "......."

Jevil: *takes ONE bite out of sandwich

I was thinking around 10 years or so..? Maybe more? Haven't really decided :0 And he was able to escape by making a mirror and stepping through it. That mirror basically poked a hole in the walls of the AU and he was able to step out of the AU. Effectively stepping out of his cell and breaking free :}

Also thank you!! :DD

@gracebeth3604

I've completely ignored comments like this recently because I don't wanna deal with all the drama that will surly follow. But you were really polite and very thorough with your evidence.. sooo I guess I might as well answer it now,

I am aware that people use they/them for Seam. But -> my version <- of Seam goes by he/him.

I don't reeallly have a Splatoon AU..? And I haven't played Splatoon in a while- although I do still like it and have made some Splatoon ocs!

These drawings are pretty old. I've been meaning to come back and re-draw them haha <XD

Yeah its okay to tag like that. Like "seam and jevil" or "mario and luigi". That's just tagging them as being in the same post, no big deal 👍

Also no, no art of any kind. If you truly wanna show that you appreciate my work then leave comments. Maybe reblog once in a while or send me an ask. The comments don't have to be anything complex. You could leave a "Looks great!" comment on 50 posts of mine in a row and I will see what you're doing and appreciate it endlessly.

@genericcereal-wastaken

(I most likely will lol XD) Also thank you! I'm glad you love it! :DD

@elegysonnet

Honestly I can see Seam wanting nothing wrapped around/touching his wrists for a while.. even though they need it. But he could accept cold rags being dabbed on the wounds to ease the stinging.

As for what he'd eat? Dude- anything XDD Probably a burger to start. He'd just take a big fat bite and cry about how good it tastes 😭

And yeah! Now that he has his full range of movement he has his cat like flexibility back :}}

When it comes to Seam using his magic? Its hard for a while...

He hasn't used it consistently in so long.. he would be rusty, and probably anxious to use it again. It would take a lot of sparing and gentle guidance from Jevil and probably Asgore to get his grove back.

It would also take time for him to physically heal. Having his body's energy constantly drained has really effected his ability to control his magic. He would need a few weeks of good sleep and hearty meals before he could get his groove back. But he'll get there. With the group/Jevils support, he would eventually be back to the way he was. Equally matched with Jevil. :}

@clevermakercupcake

Thank you!! :}}} 🌻🌻

I don't remember that, did he do that?? Kwazii whyyy that's nasty XDDD

@cupcake-kingdom

Seam is frightened and confused but appreciates the message! XD

Joy. There's just joy and relief everywhere.

There has been a constant anxiety over this group- not just Jevil, that Seam would suddenly collapse and die. Finally succumbing to the chains draining properties.

Now that the chains are off? Seam will heal. He will eat and stay full. He will absorb those calories and turn it into energy. And he will keep that energy. When he sleeps he will wake up feeling rested. He will heal, he will live.

For Seam, it was almost too good to be true. It just, it blew his mind. He was free. He was really free. No more pain, no more aches. No more hunger. His freedom truly starts here. The relief he felt can't be described. He cried, hard. But he also laughed, and for the first time in years, he smiled.

And Jevil? He couldn't speak. He just cried and cried and cried.. He couldn't let go of Seam. He couldn't stop looking at his wrists. Exanimating them over and over again. As if he couldn't truly believe it. All the anxiety, all the worry, all the sleepless nights. They were all over. Seam was gonna live, he didn't have to worry anymore. He couldn't let go of Seam, he couldn't stop shaking, he couldn't stop crying. He couldn't stop smiling.

They will likely leave some kind of permanent scar on Seam yes.. but his floofy orange fur hides the scars around his neck. And the scars on his wrists will be somewhat covered up by his fur. So thankfully they wont really be noticeable. <:)

@nunyabusiness459

Heck yeah. After they cry their souls out together they go and crash for like 6 hours or something XDD

(Also funny username, made me laugh! XD)

WAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! And heck yeah!! Feel free to send me your AU stuff when you're done/ready! I'd love to see it! :}}

@ocinstituterep I imagine he's just reeeeally quiet about sneaking out. My Kwazii doesn't sneak out though he knows better XD

Thank you so much! Also Spongebob has angst??? :00000

Things are mostly better!

Little Red got her knees fixed, Escorts broken down a few times but he's currently in working order! Suburban is stiillll a work in progress... undrivable at the moment- :x

Greenie now takes all 4 limbs to start, Brown is out of the garage and U.M is out of the trailer! Pretty good stuff :}}

(If any of that made sense to you I applaud you for your dedication to my Transformer ocs <XDD)

@skywillow28022

She does exist, although I didn't have any real plans for her.. maybe she was just a gal that the bros knew in passing back on Earth.?

@beryl-shade

I feel like none of them would willing visit that old stage.. expect for maybe Foxy. I feel like Foxy would be a very emotional and tender hearted character. I can see him not wanting to "leave them behind" in a way. He would come back now and then and talk to the stage as if they were standing on it and could hear him. The staff think that Foxy's programming just hasn't properly registered that Chica and Freddy are gone. And in a way.. they're right..

Foxy cant let go of their memory. And despite how much it would ache seeing that empty stage, I can see him coming back to it anyway..

This also means that part of the reason why Bonnie and Foxy clash so much now is that Bonnie is trying to snuff out any memories and feelings of the past. Meanwhile Foxy is wallowing in those memories and refuses to let go.

If any of the four of them had to preform on that stage once again? Oh man. That would hurt. It would kill Foxy to stand in the place of his late friends. He would feel guilty, ashamed.. Monty and Roxy also couldn't handle it. They would be crushed. Monty would likely get emotional and angry. Roxy would want to run and hide her face. Maybe the three of them would find a way to fake a malfunction so they could just get off the stage..

But Bonnie? Man. Maybe he's so overwhelmed that he just goes on autopilot and finishes the performance. Only to have a complete mental breakdown in his room later.. being so close to the memory of Chica and Freddy.. its crippling to him.

@skatermusic

Daww, thank you :}}}

[talkfastwalkfaster]

Serenity ~ Ben Kenobi x Reader

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

A/N: this is set about 5 years after rots. reader is about 27 & obi-wan is 43. i was going to make a valentine anakin fic but that plan moved so enjoy my other love, hermit obi-wan. this is my first time writing smut so it might not be the best. also, if you have any feedback, it's welcomed & appreciated :)♡ WC: 3,041 Warnings: MDNI, smut, some angst

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

Tatooine was known for its extremely warm temperatures, but today was worse than ever. Ben was drenched in sweat the entire day, making him wish they could afford a cooling system to install within their home. 

He noticed you never seemed to sweat as extensively as he did. He assumed it was because you were a native of the planet. 

“(y/n), are you certain that our animals will survive this weather?" Ben called out from the entrance of your home. His thoughts were consumed by his trusted stead, Eopie may have been able to sustain this weather in previous times, but that didn't ease his worries.

Ben headed into your house and over to the kitchen where you had been for the past few minutes. 

He rested his hand on your lower back and peered over your shoulder to watch you chop up some vegetables for dinner. If he was honest, he was a little envious that this heat was seemingly not affecting you as it was him.

Your mouth formed into a small smile as you continued cutting vegetables, “I’m certain, Ben, they’ve survived hotter weather than this before. They’ll be fine.”

He exhaled, his shoulders deflating as he continued to gaze at you. He knew his worries were futile, yet his concerns wouldn’t falter. “I know, I know. I just can’t help but worry for them.” 

This was his life now, he had accepted becoming a farmer ages ago, but there was still a lot more that he would have to come to terms with; he was still haunted by memories of the war, watching Anakin fall to the dark side, watching Qui-Gon die, watching Satine die, watching his beloved Commander and battalion turn against him in the blink of an eye…

He rubbed the back of his neck, attempting to shake the weight that always seemed to be weighing him down. “I suppose it’s just the heat getting on my nerves. It feels as though the heat of a hundred suns is shining down. I don’t know how you’re acting all nonchalant, I feel like I might as well be burning and yet you’ve barely broken a sweat.”

You glanced over your shoulder to look at him, “Well I have lived here all my life, I’m used to the heat.” The truth was that the heat always did manage to bother you a little, but you had grown up in the scalding temperatures, you were, unfortunately, accustomed to them. It made no sense for you to complain about it. 

“I don’t know how you do it if it’s not the heat that’s unbearable, it’s the awful sandstorms that are always passing through here,” Ben complained. Despite having lived on Tatooine for a while now, it seemed as though no matter what he did, he could never get used to the heat. His mind digressed toward Anakin and his hatred toward this planet, and he finally seemed to understand his point of view. But Ben quickly pushed that thought away as his heart ached each time his mind brought up his former student. 

He was brought out of his trance by the sound of your voice. “You’ll get used to them. Sure, they might not be ideal but Tatooine isn’t as bad as it could be. I mean the war never came here and the Empire has little interest in this planet. The weather may not be perfect and there are always things that could be improved here, but i can’t think of living anywhere else,” You mused. You knew that Ben got stuck in his head easily and you’ve known him long enough to see the signs of it. 

His brow always started to furrow and he stroked his beard, seemingly without even realizing it. You’ve figured out that the best way to bring him back to the present was to talk about where you are. Even though you’re not necessarily fond of praising Tatooine, he needs it, and that’s all that matters to you. 

“I wish I had as much patience as you do, my dear,” he sighed, taking in another deep breath. 

It all seemed so normal, this was a conversation that any couple could have. To any outsiders, you two would be seen as a regular husband and wife, like any other married couple in the galaxy. Ben was slowly starting to feel content with his life here, he could almost forget everything that happened five years prior. He could almost pretend that he did not come to Tatooine because of his failure, that he didn’t have to go into hiding, and that his life didn’t completely spiral because of one order.

Your face softened, knowing how difficult it’s been for Ben. It always seemed as though he was unable to completely move forward, despite his best attempts, because of whatever happened in his past. “Well, you've only been here what, 5 years? You have to give yourself time to adjust, sweetheart."

A faint smile stretched across his lips when you called him ‘sweetheart’. It was the most endearing pet name you had ever given him and he felt a warmness throughout his chest whenever you used it. It made him feel normal, he didn’t have to worry about his former life as Jedi Master and General Obi-Wan Kenobi anymore, he could just be Ben, your husband.

He chuckled softly, watching as you began to cook the vegetables before wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. “I know, darling, I know…” he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and sighed, breathing in the scent of you, something that always relaxed him.

As you cooked, your mind briefly wandered to Coruscant, Ben had once mentioned that he was born and lived most of his life there. You wondered if the planet was anything similar to Tatooine or if it was the complete opposite. You had always wanted to ask him more about his past, what he was like before you met him 3 years ago, and yet, for some reason, you could never bring yourself to give in to those desires.

However, as the two of you stood in the kitchen, you believed that now would be a better time than any to ask him, seeing as this was the first time in a while that he was truly beginning to relax. You hummed softly, attempting to keep the peaceful environment that had been created, “You said you were from Coruscant right? Is it very different from here?”

Ben stiffened slightly from his position behind you before forcing himself to relax, he knew you had no ill intent with your question. If this was any other time, he would have avoided your prodding, but for once, he decided to indulge you, even if only slightly. “It’s very different from here, my dear.” he held you tighter and kept his head resting in the crook of your neck, your familiar scent had always given him a sense of peace and calmness, something which he craved, wishing he could forever be engulfed in it.

“Coruscant makes Tatooine look like a ghost town. It’s full of large buildings and many different levels. You could always hear the buzzing of speeders and people clamoring to numerous places,” Ben paused for a second, wondering how much more he should tell you, before ultimately deciding it’s best to keep it brief, “Let’s just say there was never a dull moment there, my love.”

You decided to push your luck, desperately wanting to know more about your husband. You murmured, as if trying not to startle Ben with your next question, “Do you ever miss it?”

His heart immediately constricted at the thought, though he quickly dismissed it. There was no reason for him to start dwelling on what-ifs, this was his life now, and there was no changing the past. “My life there? No, not at all,” he replied quickly, the lie coming out easy. 

This has become a type of dance for him, every once in a while you would try to inquire about his past and he would always find ways to avoid giving too much detail. He would only ever respond vaguely enough to not make you suspicious while also satisfying your curiosity. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you what his past life actually entailed, it was still too raw, too painful. He didn’t want you to worry either. He knew that he couldn’t hide who he once was from you forever, but he couldn’t tell you today, not now. 

Ben rested his chin on your shoulder and muttered “I wouldn’t want to go back.” A half-truth, he’s not as fond of the planet as he used to be, but it still holds some sentimental value to him. It’s not that he would never want to go back to Coruscant, it’s that he can’t. If he ever tried he knew the Empire would be on him as soon as he was even remotely close to the planet’s atmosphere. 

You finished cooking the vegetables and raised your eyebrows slightly surprised, not expecting that answer from him. “Never?” you inquired, feeling slightly bewildered. “You’d really never want to go back? Was it that bad?”

Ben held you tighter and exhaled, that part of him died years ago. To him, Obi-Wan died the moment he left Anakin to die on Mustafar — he had been, in a way, reborn as Ben. He was just Ben Kenobi, a simple farmer, and your husband. Nothing more, nothing less. “It was fine, nothing particularly interesting happened to me when I lived there,” he lied again, giving you a soft kiss on the side of your neck hoping that this topic of discussion would die out soon.

You sighed at his words and murmured, “Dinner’s ready.” You decided to let the topic drop, knowing that he wasn’t exactly telling you the truth, but you hoped that one day he would trust you enough to let you completely in. 

The two of you ate dinner in silence, both of you seemingly lost in your thoughts. Ben had intrigued you from the start. You had met him at a market in Mos Espa, and he immediately stood out to you. From the way that he held himself to the way he talked. He looked like someone who had seen the galaxy, who had actually experienced life, something you had always wished to do but never had the luxury. His eyes — his beautiful, entrancing sapphire grey eyes that were like pools of sorrow. They showed a variety of complex emotions, something that made you want nothing more than to break down his highly built-walls and see who he truly was. 

Ben was never one to speak much while eating, he felt there was no need to fill the silence with meaningless chatter — he wanted to just enjoy being with you, you were everything to him. 

He had never thought that he would be able to have this, that he’d be able to feel happy again. For the first two years that he had lived on Tatooine, he had expected that he would be alone forever, that he had deserved to live a life of isolation. But then you came along and completely wrecked all those painful thoughts. 

Ben hadn’t realized that he was being completely quiet, he was still processing that he was married and a farmer — he never thought this was how his life would turn out. “Thank you for the dinner dear,” he remarked appreciatively. 

The corners of your mouth turned upward and your eyes brightened ever so slightly at his gratitude, “You’re welcome. I’m sorry though, I know it’s not much-”

He interrupted, “Don’t worry yourself, it’s perfect… You’re the best, you know that?”

You held back a smile, unable to resist teasing him a little. “Am I now?”

Ben brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the palm gently, “You certainly are, my dear. You are the best thing to happen to me in years and I wouldn’t have it any other way."

You leaned forward and kissed him, deciding that no words would be able to encapsulate how you felt towards him.

His heart fluttered as you kissed him, it was so tender and he was more than willing to return it. Your lips were soft and inviting, and he couldn’t resist pulling you into his lap, his hands gently caressing your face. In response, you wrapped your arms around his neck, desperately wanting to be closer to him.

You couldn’t help but moan softly into the kiss, your body was reacting to his and you were so comfortable being in his arms. He was all you needed in life, there wasn’t anything else that mattered. His hands slowly drifted down and began rubbing small circles on the small of your back. 

Your heartbeat quickened as the two of you pulled apart, the feeling of kissing him was intoxicating. You started to subtly grind your hips down, desperate for any type of friction. 

Ben gasped softly at your ministrations and quickly connected your lips again. The kiss between the two of you was full of love and passion. Your hands were everywhere, one wrapped behind his neck and your other around his shoulder, as if you were trying to entangle yourself with him.

Ben deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out and exploring your mouth. He couldn’t take it anymore and picked you up, heading straight for your shared bedroom. Your arms were tightly wrapped around his neck and you kissed all over his face and neck as he took you to the room. 

Once you reached the bedroom he gently laid you down on the bed and slowly made his way on top of you, wanting to savor each moment. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at you with an expression that could only be described as pure, devoted love before lowering himself and kissing you again, this time slower and more intimate than he had previously. 

Without breaking the kiss, he started to tenderly remove your tunic from your body, revealing your naked top to his gaze. The rest of your clothes were quickly removed and thrown off the bed as Ben began to kiss you everywhere — your neck, your shoulders, your chest, anywhere he could get his lips on. His hands slowly made their way down your chest, squeezing and massaging your breasts before finally heading towards your neglected pussy. You were completely entranced by his touch, his hands were sending shivers throughout your entire body, making you tremble with anticipation.

You whimpered in pleasure as his hands moved downward and he inserted one finger into your dripping folds while lightly rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb.  You hastily tugged on his own tunic, stripping him until both of you were naked on the bed. You grasped his shoulders and spread your legs open wider, inviting him to come closer. Ben slotted himself in between your thighs and hovered on top of you, his arms caging you in. 

Ben shifted slightly, slipping one hand in between your bodies to grasp his cock. He dragged the tip of it through your folds a couple of times before finally sinking into you. You moaned as he pressed himself closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist as you adjusted to the size of his cock. 

You gripped his shoulders tighter, nails digging into his skin as you begged, “Ben, please, move.”

He slowly began to rock his hips, not wanting to rush this moment. The love between the two of you was palpable, your bodies fit together perfectly as if you were made for each other.  He moved his head to your neck, pressing soft kisses into the crook of it. He knew right then that everything he went through was worth it if this was his fate. All of his struggles and hardships faded away as if all that mattered was you and him. 

Your moans grew louder as he gradually picked up his pace, the wet squelching sounds of your skin meeting filled the room. Your nails raked down his back, pleasure completely filling your senses, the only thought on your mind was Ben. 

As your lips met again, the kiss was tender yet rough, a juxtaposition that seemed to also perfectly describe your husband. You could feel your orgasm looming, squeezing his cock and pulling him deeper into you. He moaned into the kiss, his hips stuttered, spilling inside of you, coating your insides with his cum. His orgasm triggered your own, whining loudly as you spasmed around him, your whole body trembling as you rode out your high.

The two of you laid there for a while, basking in each other’s presence before he slowly pulled out of you, the mixture of your cum slowly running down your pussy and thighs. 

You leaned up and gently kissed the side of his mouth, “I love you, Ben.”

A soft smile grew on his lips, his heart was overflowing with his love for you. He had never felt like this with anyone but you — you were his person and he was yours, you were perfectly suited. He had no doubt in his mind that you were his soulmate, and he’d thank the Maker that the Force led him to you. “I love you too, my dear.”

You looked up at him lovingly, knowing that this was where you were meant to be, everything seemed right, everything made sense, when you were with him and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You knew in the back of your mind that you still had ways to go with Ben, but in this moment, none of that mattered, you’d have him in any way you could.

He exhaled and pressed his forehead against your shoulder — leaning against you in this way felt very nice. His body, mind, and soul felt rejuvenated just by being in your presence.

The two of you shifted so that you were laying your head on his chest and your legs were intertwined. Slowly you and Ben drifted asleep, your bodies, minds, and souls forever entwined.

[moonseonghwa]

Paint me yours - K.HJ

recommend to listen to “a little death” by the neighbourhood

word count: 2k

warnings: artist!hongjoong x fem!reader, protected sex, dry-humping, praising, oral (m.& f. receiving), hongjoong's a player

a/n: surprise hihi

minors dni

The worn-out leather jacket was quickly discarded in the corner of his room after the door closed, the obvious tension finally washed away as he crashed his lips on yours, pushing you against the door as you held his face in your hands, feeling the cold metal of his lip ring. You kissed him deeply, not getting enough of it as he pulled you with him towards the bed.

Kim Hongjoong, an artist, who you met through a mutual friend. He was a prominent player, never sticking to one girl and changing relationships as frequently as his hair colors. Which he liked to do a lot.

You tried to avoid him, trying to listen to your friends’ advice, but it was so hard when you felt him stare you down every time you entered the room, practically eye-fucking you as he made no effort to hide it.

He placed you on his lap as you pulled his freshly dyed silver-colored hair, him releasing a deep groan as his hips bucked up against your core, making it harder for you to restrain yourself. He was insatiable, the way his lips devoured yours while his hands played their tricks on you, roaming over your bare waist and painting them as his. That's what he does, everything he touches becomes his in one way or another. 

You were so turned on it actually made you surprise yourself, and if he continued this you might come without him even touching you. That wasn’t his plan though, making him slowly start to guide your core against his, your mouth falling open at the contact. He placed his forehead against yours, breathing labored and insanely caught up in the moment you didn’t even realize where you were anymore. But you didn’t mind, as long as it was Hongjoong touching you. His fox eyes stared into yours, before smirking as slowing your hips down, placing his already swollen lips on the base of your throat, before his tongue made its way to your mouth, taking your jaw in his hand and attaching his mouth to yours. 

You swore to yourself to never fall for him, to never let yourself be consumed by him, but here you were, not wanting anything more than to take him, right here, right now, even if it was in the room next to the others.

‘’We can’t’’ You whispered, slowly coming back to your senses as you heard the door open in the room next to you. Your dress had already ridden up so much that if someone opened the door right now, both of your messy hair and pink-toned cheeks would’ve given away what must’ve happened before, even if you were quick enough to get off him. 

‘’They’ll be gone soon, I heard them talking about going for drinks’’ He replied, his hand leaving your skin briefly when he noticed you weren’t comfortable with the thought of them being able to enter. ‘’You good?’’ He asked, even though he could already feel how wet you were through his pants, indicating just how good you were, just for him.

Then seconds later, you heard the front row close, followed by complete silence. You looked at Hongjoong, who gave you a knowing smile before you grabbed the chains hanging from his neck and pulled him close again, your lips on his, the only thing your brain could think about when you felt his warmth again. 

‘’You’re so hot’’ He muttered against your lips, his hands moving down the back of your dress before settling on your ass as he pressed you closer against his crotch, making your eyes roll back as you started rolling your hips again, only to be met with Hongjoong muttering curse words with his rasped voice and deep breaths. 

You sat back a little, enough to take off his shirt, revealing his torso with the necklaces decorating his bare chest. You started kissing down his neck, making sure to leave some marks just underneath where his shirt will be, before moving down his abs as you slowly opened his belt. You looked up at him, seeing him look at you with hooded eyes and lust on his face, his hand around the back of your neck. 

‘’You’re so beautiful’’ He said, and the word choice did it for you. 

You were going to give this man the best head he’ll ever have. 

You freed him from his ripped jeans and boxers, before taking a minute to take in the sight. Pre-cum was already leaking down his length, indicating he was just as turned on as you. 

Your tongue lapped it up, before settling on the tip as he let out a groan at the contact, the hand on your neck quickly wrapping in your hair as he guided you down his length. A loud moan left his lips because of the feeling of your warm mouth around him, and it only spurred you on more. You bobbed your head up and down, using your hand to jerk off the rest, before twirling your tongue around the tip. He was chanting your name over and over, whimpers leaving his mouth. 

‘’If you keep going I’m going to come’’ He groaned, before his other hand went to the pillow next to him, holding on for dear life as the feeling felt too good. 

You sucked a bit harder, before taking him more, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, making him release another moan. 

He pulled you off him before he lost control, leaning down and pulling your chin towards him as his tongue entered your mouth in a longing kiss. 

He pulled you up a few seconds later, pushing you down on the bed. He unzipped the back of your dress before pulling it down, revealing your bare chest as he placed his lips down the valley of your breasts, slowly placing open-mouth kisses down your stomach as you sighed at the contact. 

The further he got, the more he pulled your dress down, before ripping the dress open so he could easily take it off you. 

‘’Joong!’’ You whisper-yelled, making him shut you up with another kiss. 

‘’I’ll make you a new one’’ He smiled, his hand wrapping around your waist as he pushed you against him fully. 

’’Please fuck me, Joong’’ You almost whined as you felt his tip against your clit, before he leaned back, taking off his trousers and boxers. He opened the drawer of his bedside table, taking out a condom before climbing on top of you after taking off your panties. 

You felt his hand go between your legs, ‘’I didn’t have my fun yet’’ He said, before kneeling on the floor as he pulled your legs over his shoulders and latched his lips on your inner thigh.

He teased you a bit, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the feeling of his tongue against your folds, as you threw your head back at the pleasuring feeling. He was really skilled at this, and the excitement only added to it. He lapped up your juices, before entering one finger as you moaned his name, before a string of curses left your lips as he entered one more, rubbing your g-spot as he stimulated your clit with his tongue. 

Just as you were about to come, he stopped, making you whimper at the lack of contact. Soon replaced by a kiss on your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. He pulled back before grabbing the condom holding eye contact with you as he ripped open the package with his teeth, making butterflies erupt in your stomach because he was so hot. 

He rolled the condom around his length, before lining up with your entrance, as his lips were kissing your earlobe. You felt him push in slowly, making your nails dig into his back at the delicious stretch. You let out a moan at the contact, feeling the drag of his cock inside you.

‘’You’re so tight’’ He grunted, as you moved his face to place his lips against yours, never getting tired of that feeling. You moaned into his mouth, making him smile in the kiss as he bottomed out in you, stilling to let you adjust for a second. 

‘’Ready?’’ He asked after some time of both of you just breathing, lost in the moment. 

‘’Yes’’ You nodded, biting your lip a the feeling of him pulling out, before pushing in just as quickly, making you throw your head back. 

He was marking you up, his teeth nibbling at your neck, claiming you as his. His artwork, his project. And how you loved to be his wasn’t describable. You needed him close, wanted him to use you as he wanted to. Your painted black nails were digging into his back, leaving a red trail on it. 

‘’Faster’’ You said, one hand wrapping in his dyed hair.

His pace fastened, holding your hips still as he drove himself into you deeper, making you feel all of him. You were sure that if anyone was home, they would hear exactly what was going on with the way both of you were moaning in pleasure. 

He lifted one of your legs around his waist, pushing into you deeper as he got off to the pain of your nails digging into his back, and the pretty faces you were making when he was ruining you. 

Ruining you because he was making you his, only for him to touch. 

‘’You’re mine now’’ He said, pulling out before grabbing your waist to make you sit on his cock, and even though you’re legs were already worn out, sinking down on him and the different feeling of it made it all worth it as he pounded into you from underneath, settling on a steady pace as he locked his lips with yours

‘’You're- fuck- you’re so good for me’’ He said, holding your waist with his arm to keep you steady as he thrusts into you relentlessly, your head falling on his shoulder as you felt like you couldn’t take any more. 

As if he could read your mind, he proved you differently by placing two fingers on your clit and rubbing you closer to your orgasm, making you lose your mind as you felt the high approaching too quickly.

‘’Hongjoong, too much I- mhmm’’ You moaned, feeling your high wash over you as you clenched around him intensely making him throw his head back as he pushed deeper inside you. And you’ve never come this hard, making him want to feel every part of you as he came too, releasing the warmth in the condom as he fell back on the bed, taking you with him. 

His hands rubbed your hips in a comforting manner, as he whispered praises in your ear about how you were his good girl, only his.

He then pulled out of you, making you whine. 

‘’Don’t worry darling, we got the whole night’’ He then said, attaching his lips to yours and starting the fun once again. 

[twst-hottest-takes]

OKAY TRAUMA OLYMPICS TIME!

Ranking every Overblotter based on how sad their backstory makes me: THAT MEANS IT’S VERY BIASED AND SUBJECTIVE!

Waves hands in a manic gesture towards the disclaimer* (Now is your chance to turn around!)

7: Azul Ashengrotto-Got picked on for being different. The thing that takes me out about Azul’s backstory and its connection to his overblot is how basic it feels. I’m not here to invalidate his feelings, I understand those insecurities, but apparently the only thing stopping more people from overblotting is that they can’t accumulate blot at the same rate because of lower magic output. If you ask me, the real tragedy of his character is his inability to acknowledge his own achievements. He says, “I’ll show them!” and, yes, hon, you did. Calm down. You are 17, nothing is stopping you from becoming the person you say you are (unlike half the other people on this list). (0/10 He tried to take advantage of my compassion and took my home away. He can cry harder into his money for all I care. Also bottom tier Overblot design.)

(Slight edit: changed Azul's age to 17 because I put 15 before. That would have been his age before turning human to go to NRC, but that might have been confusing and seemed inaccurate. Thanks to the person who pointed that out! The rest of the statement remains the same.)

6: Vil Schoenheit—Hates being typecast and treated like number two. Bro’s real crime is checking his socials too much and letting it get to him. I feel nothing for Vil and he’s only above Azul because his situation is a little less common as a one in a million super celebrity which can come with outlandish amounts of stress I can't comprehend. Again, the tragedy is his inability to be satisfied with his current state of his career and acknowledge his success because someone’s always above him. YOU ARE 18! YOU HAVE YOUR WHOLE CAREER AHEAD OF YOU! Give yourself some space to breath. He’s the one character you’d think would know and see a therapist. He’s so perfectly managed about every other element of his life it seems almost out of character for him not to be considering his mental health. If you consider he's even taking time away from his career to go to school and have "normal teen experiences" I don't know why I should feel bad. (0/10 Attempted murder. Jealous biotch. Probably, less sympathetic than Azul actually.)

5: Leona Kingscholar—Also hates his life situation and being treated like second fiddle. Leona is above Vil because he DOESN’T have a way out of being “typecast.” Time and talent can't save him. He was born into a situation where he can’t be anything other than the second prince and when he finally got a chance to be number one at something (Spelldrive at NRC) Malleus shows up to put him back down to second place again. Life seems to have a karmic way of making Leona nothing more and I feel that. Honestly, Leona’s state makes me cry but I can’t rank him higher because the canon content for his character is sparse. Most of the elements about Leona are things you have to look into and read out of his actions and backstory and while that’s not bad, it’s frustrating that a lot of people overlook them because they aren’t as explicit as the other characters. Leona’s depression is very real, but because the symptoms manifest as less sad-boy and more tired jackass a lot of people overlook his failing mental health. He’s badly written and I feel like the first iteration of his backstory (Book 2 in game) does the worst job about making you feel anything for him considering his actions. (4/10 Smart character with lots of potential but written like an idiot where it counted. Also attempted murder.)

4: Malleus Draconia (TENTATIVE)—Doesn’t want to be alone. After all, what’s the point of being so powerful when it’s so lonely? Loneliness is a feeling that I think doesn’t get explored enough in the media I consume (maybe I need to look harder), so Malleus can be a little higher for what I currently perceive as his reasons for overblotting. He’s an immortal being constantly ostracized by the position he was born into and suffers from the classic conundrum of having to watch everyone he cares about go before him. For all intents and purposes he’s an orphan. He doesn’t have a lot of people he’s related to and can really consider close, so it hits him extra hard when they can’t be around anymore, and for all of his age, as a fae he’s really very young, immature, and inexperienced. The game is doing its darndest to make sure that he gets as thorough an explanation as possible and actively wants you to understand where he’s coming from and feel bad. So he gets the halfway point because as much as I love this kind of thing, favoritism and getting the longest time to explore his feelings only gets him so high. (6/10 I like that the MC has a personal stake in this one, and he's not actively trying to kill anyone.) (Since Book 8 isn’t over yet, his position is subject to change later.)

3: Riddle Rosehearts—Anal retentive to the extreme. Riddle’s mom is so hated by the fandom she is never getting a face reveal. Is now the time to express how bad I feel about Riddle being traumatized by strictness and rules to the point where he honestly believes that bending the most absurd rules will result in disastrous consequences? Maybe. I appreciate that we saw exactly the inciting incident that made Riddle the way he is now. So much of his character falls back on that one time he broke the rules as a kid, and it HAS SO MUCH IMPACT. He gets a lot of props for being one of the few overblotters to actually have character growth post-featured book. Riddle is a contender for second place, but his potential ability to grow beyond his circumstances makes him less tragic. (7/10 Riddle is a surprisingly strong first antagonist in the main story. Almost killed someone, but that was notably AFTER he broke down and turned into a rampaging monster.)

2: Jamil Viper—Can never be his true self. Jamil is another guy who was born into his lifestyle and has no feasible way out of what’s driving him up the wall. It’s not just about Kalim being naïve and sheltered, it’s about how Jamil himself can’t ever use the gifts he has or escape from that fate. He is better than Kalim at a lot of things, but has to act like an amateur so he doesn’t outshine the guy he’s been sworn to protect and serve. He has expectations set on him, and duties to fulfill, and his best route in life as presented to him is just to be as average and boring as possible despite his innate talent and potential. I don’t know if there’s supposed to be a way for Jamil to get out of his family’s servitude to the Al-Asims that causes him to be so bitter, so at this point I kind of assume he’s stuck and that makes it extra sad. The fact that he really just wants to go on vacation makes it hit harder that he’s not even that bad for a guy at a villains’ school. Book 5 giving him a chance to break out of that shadow is great, honestly. (8/10 I can't hate him. He just wants a break, man. He wasn't even trying to hurt anyone, but loses a point for dragging Yuu/MC into his scheme. [Don't y'all dare throw Kalim hate in here. That's not what this is about. I will fight you.])

1: Idia Shroud—Survivor’s Guilt. Book 6 really went there and we are going to talk about it. He did something he shouldn’t have as a kid and now he has to live with the fact that his kid brother is dead. He wanted so badly to undo what he did that he built a new version of him even though he knew deep down he could never replace Ortho. No. I’m sorry. You’re not beating that. That’s not event including the fact that he’s also stuck as a fracking guardian of the underworld in a family that is supposed to be incapable of overblotting in the first place. Idia has textbook depression, and that’s not a bad thing. He feels just as trapped as everyone else and doesn’t see a point to doing anything the conventional way if he doesn’t have to. Idia is NOT a perfect person or character, but as far as his writing for why he ends up doing what he does, I think he easily takes the cake. (10/10 Will weep again. Character writing, with a little dash of hope that he can find some bright spots in life. Extra points for Ortho telling him to keep living. Also, he has the coolest Overblot design. 100/10 for Technopunk Hades.)

This is a super abridged version of what I have to say regarding each of these characters, so I may have to write out actual essays and character analysis for them eventually. I tried to get out the gist of my rankings in as short a form as possible, but that might not be good enough for some people. Feel free to tell me how I misunderstand and mischaracterize your fave.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Part of the Action

poly!mikaelsons x human!reader

summary: you're about to be left out of yet another mikaelson plan, when an accidental mix-up happens that might convince them to let you help them. OR, you prove that you've got a lot more fire than the mikaelsons give you credit for.

tags: plotting, blood drinking

word count: 720

You lay across the couch as Klaus goes over his plan for the third time. Your legs are in Kol’s lap, while your head is in Rebekah’s. As he strokes his finger along your thigh, she’s playing with your hair, and none of you are paying much attention to the hybrid. Elijah’s trying his best to listen to his brother, but he’s consumed by a jealousy of not being able to touch you while his siblings do that makes him deaf to the plan. 

“So I’ll need one of you to distract Damon, another to distract Stefan, and-” Klaus pauses, “are any of you idiots listening to me?”

Four pairs of eyes immediately snap up to him. 

“Could you stop petting the girl for one minute so you can tune into my plan for world domination?”

“She’s just so soft, Niklaus,” Rebekah whines, digging her hands into your scalp sweetly.

“Yes, I know, but this is important.”

“So is taking time to relax and love on our little girl.”

He sighs, then looks at you expectantly. You’re only able to fight his gaze for a minute before surrendering. Both Kol and Bekah argue as you move to be sitting in between them, not touching either of them. 

“Thank you, love. Now, this is the plan. One of you distracts Damon, another distracts Stefan. I grab Elena. Y/N, you stay here, because you are not getting caught in any crossfire-”

“Why do you never let me help?”

“Pardon?”

“Why do I always have to sit out when you guys are acting out on plans? I can help. I want to help.”

“We will not risk you getting hurt, baby. It is imperative that you stay here where you’re safe,” Elijah speaks for them all. 

“If I get hurt, you can just heal me! I want to help!”

“No, Y/N. That is an order. You stay here.”

“I can’t be here all the time while you’re always fighting. What if you get hurt?”

“We will heal.”

“Well you can heal me.”

“Love, it’s a no. Now stop fighting the matter before it results in punishment.”

You glare at the two eldest brothers, but then drop your gaze and pout.

Kol immediately leans over to whisper, “we love you too much for you to get hurt, darling. Yes, we can heal you, but there’s still so much risk.”

“Fine,” you mutter. “I’ll stay back. Again.”

He smiles, then kisses your cheek. 

Klaus continues plotting. “I’ll only need Elena for a second, so you all only need to distract them for a little bit. Just long enough for me to make my point.”

You zone out while he talks, knowing there’s no use in listening anyway since you’re on the outs. At some point, Elijah sets his wine glass on the coffee table to stand up to talk to Klaus. Your eyes focus on it. I’m in desperate need of some wine to deal with this shit again, you think, ‘Lijah won’t mind if I steal a sip. 

In one quick motion, you reach for the glass and bring it to your lips. 

He spins around at the sound of movement, eyes immediately going wide. “Baby, that’s not wine. Put it-”

Too late. You take a big sip of the liquid. It’s already in your mouth by the time you realize it’s blood. It shocks you for a second; Elijah’s not usually one to drink blood from wine glasses - that’s usually Kol. But as it sits in your mouth, you find yourself enjoying the taste. It’s thick, oozy, and something about it makes you feel powerful. Like what once was someone’s life force is now being consumed by you. 

In one gulp, you swallow it. It’s heavy down your throat and bubbles in your stomach. The taste lingers on your lips, stained red from its color. 

You set the glass down and lie back on the couch, but not without swiping your tongue across your lips first. “What?” You question the four siblings staring at you. They’re all speechless, yet the longer you look, the more you recognize the love and lust in their eyes. 

Klaus is the first to break the silence. “Well, judging by that, maybe our beautiful and bloodthirsty girl is ready to be a part of the action.”

[frozenjokes]

mumbo killsalot jumbo kills.. a lot.

Mumbo was a monster.

He’d always been a monster, born- well, Mumbo wasn’t sure if he could say he was born or even created.. He existed to take, wilt, consume. He remembered all of it as well, the beginning of his existence, atoms, sickness, taking until he could grow, change, match to his taste, then take and change all over again.

Mumbo did not used to think or feel. He was not big enough to think, only atoms, all he cared to do was grow.

Innocent enough. With most things, that was the goal.

And then he did grow. From a thing, he became a bigger thing, sharing bigger instincts, bigger thoughts, bigger feelings. But something must have gone wrong, DNA or otherwise getting corrupted, switched around, volatile as it was in the first place; Mumbo knew it was wrong, because he had always, always been cruel.

An animal was not a monster for eating. An animal was not even a monster if she killed more than she could consume; it was instinct to kill, to keep for yourself, to fight and defend and take. All she wanted want to live and grow, and it did not concern her what she had to do to accomplish those things at the most optimal conditions. Animals were brutal. They ate each other alive, sacrificed their young, abandoned their fellows in greatest times of need, but these things were necessary, after all, they had evolved to be this way for a reason.

Mumbo, however, did not operate the same way. He was drawn to brutality, relished in it, invented new methods for terrorizing victims of his assault. He was much like a cat in that way, playing with his food, waiting until the doomed thing was too tired to continue fighting, too fatigued from blood loss to continue struggling before smashing skulls when all hope had drained from its limbs. Hope, that was quite a tool. Hope drew out suffering, made meals out of scraps. Carefully, intricately leading a creature into a false sense of security, letting it move on just long enough to relax, then sending homes and burrows crashing down, snatching it up in his claws and consuming every morsel of dread. Betrayal, too, was delicious. A rabbit did not expect a fellow from her own warren to corner her, snatch her throat and eat her whole, still struggling, still breathing. Mumbo went through phases of engorging himself on whole societies, and when he got bored, finding some place new, starting again, innocent and bloodless.

You might expect his first human kill to be from the body of a monster, creations known for their single minded instinct to kill for the sake of it, but Mumbo did not like monsters for that very reason. They were not social, they did not form attachments, and they cared very little whether they lived or died. They made poor meals, nothing but meat and bones, and while Mumbo craved meat just as much as he craved the drawn out cry of senseless suffering, for some reason, monsters never sated him. Perhaps one without the other was no good; there was no point picking bones without the pleasure of a scream as he crushed them in the first place.

No, the first time he killed a human, he had taken the form of a dog.

Never, ever in Mumbo’s existence had he encountered a creature that freely approached a predator, a wolf nearly its size, snarling and circling and ready to lunge. It was a lucky thing that Mumbo did not mean to attack yet, only to scare; he had been waiting for this human to run so he could begin his chase.

It never did.

It cooed and spoke softly and opened its arms for Mumbo to tear it to pieces, but Mumbo did not, not yet, instead stilling in a state of utter bewilderment. He waited for it to run. It did not. It pulled something from a pocket in its clothes, a cookie it looked like, and threw him a crumb instead. With nothing else to do, Mumbo licked it up. The human took a few steps back, not fearful, but delighted, patting its legs encouragingly and throwing another crumb to the ground, further away this time. Mumbo got to his paws, and soon enough, he was following the human to its home.

This had simply never happened before. Even animals that worked together did not tend to share the same spaces for long, especially not hunters and hunted, so this just did not make any sense! Mumbo had to stay, had to find out more, and what he discovered was that humans, at least this one, grew incredible attachments. Mumbo was not the first animal to be lured to this human’s home; far from it. There were at least fifteen other dogs kept together in a fenced in area outside, one they could easily jump if they so chose, but this was not the case. Mumbo was stunned at how much care the human afforded him and the others over the following week, how it brought them all meat, bones, anything a typical dog could want, which seemed to sate the others, uninterested in killing the human when it provided so much meat. They did not care to hunt anymore, not when their needs were met.

Mumbo had been utterly baffled. How could a creature lose the will to hunt, choosing instead to whine and beg at the hands of another? Mumbo tried it, out of curiosity more than anything. Would he too prefer this? The answer after two weeks was a definitive no. So after coming to this conclusion, officially ready to consume and become the human that had nurtured him for the past weeks, Mumbo killed all of its dogs. Put simply, he just wanted to know what would happen. What the human would do, say, if it would even care. Despite seeing its attachments firsthand, Mumbo didn’t really expect it to. He’d never seen anything keep pets before, he did not know why resources would be allocated for such a task. So when the human left for the day, Mumbo systematically tore the garden apart, killing and consuming each and every dog, leaving nothing but the stains of their blood in the grass.

Mumbo sensed unease when the human worked its way up the bend, hearing no howling and barking and whining.

And then, stronger than Mumbo had ever felt anything in his entire existence, he felt the human’s deep, pulsing, utterly overwhelming distress, so powerful it nearly knocked Mumbo off his feet. He was drowning in its grief, its anguish, it filled every sense, danced across his skin like electricity, set every single one of his hairs on end, bled out of his ears, mouth, and nose.

And then it saw him, white fur stained just as red as the grass. It screamed. It ran. Had it seen death in his eyes? Had it known? Mumbo had yet to decide if this magnitude of emotional gluttony was a good or bad thing when he gave chase. Smashing through the slammed door, scrabbling on the hardwood floor, snapping at the feet of the human as it tripped on the stairs, just barely squeaking away, but not for long. Mumbo tore it clean in half in its own bedroom, soaking the sheets. And then he started to change.

And then, taking on a complexity he’d never come close to experiencing, he began to scream. It was so much, too much, advanced versions of emotions he’d never dreamed he could feel in his entire existence. Even the new intricacy of his thoughts was utterly too much; he felt guilt and longing and loneliness and ambition and disgust and shame; how miserable it was to be human, thinking and feeling so strongly all of the time. He couldn’t do it, he needed to escape, so he changed to an existence with no brain, with hardly anything at all. He let himself float, particles in the soil. Back to one goal, simply, to grow. So small, so meaningless, he couldn’t even think to be cruel.

But the taste of humanity was still on his lips, as soon as he’d grown enough to remember it. As frightening, as terrible as it was to be human, to eat a human; as overwhelming and as all consuming that it was, soon, taking another human life was all Mumbo could think about.

So he did. He did it again and again, ravenous, until no other prey would suit him. No other creature made him bleed this pleasure, no other being sated him so completely.

Well.. not completely. No. Mumbo would always want more.

It was a long time before he was brave enough to become human again. More years until he tried a third time, and again, years until a fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh attempt. When the human existence was so painful, Mumbo didn’t even know why he wanted to experience it, but regardless, he could hold the form for longer and longer each time, growing stronger, learning more, even in the face of his inevitable collapse. Soon, after over a hundred tries, he’d managed to speak to his first person as a human himself, but he did not last much longer before taking their life.

It had been a swift, near painless ordeal. There had been no suffering. And yet.

The emotion, the raw energy released from his own heart at killing one of his kind, at the horrified screams and bouts of terror from onlookers; Mumbo couldn’t even finish the meal. Couldn’t even eat the meat.

After that, it was a countless number of days, months, years even, before he could bear to touch a human form again. He still took great pleasure in killing them, though he always used less intelligent forms to do this work. These, perhaps, were his most gluttonous days, drowning himself in dread and terror, taking until he could not stand to take any longer, eating until he could not move. Death, at least for humans, was not permanent here, so sometimes Mumbo would delight himself in stalking the same human over and over, watching its terror grow until it disappeared altogether, leaving only the ruins of unfinished homes. Mumbo always wondered where they went. If they only had so many lives before never returning, or if they were in hiding, somehow beyond his reach.

That curiosity was what pushed him to try being human again. Not hunger. Not gluttony. This time, getting to know the people of this world was not a matter of preparing a meal, but a matter of knowledge. Of learning. The emotion and the attachments it wrought were frightening, but with a little time, became less overwhelming. He did not like them still, could not hold a human form for very long, but it was worth it for the pursuit of knowledge.

And that was when Mumbo learned he could leave. That there were other places, other worlds, and his existence had only started in one of them.

Later, Mumbo learned others had limits on where they could or couldn’t go. Mumbo did not have these same restrictions; in fact, he could go wherever he wanted and no one could stop him, keep him out, and very rarely could he be overpowered.

He liked small servers. Stalking the residents as vicious beasts, taking their fear, their lives, until they stopped coming back. He entertained himself with this for a while, and all was well, that is, until he’d driven every person from the server he currently resided and had to find somewhere new.

To move from place to place, Mumbo had to take a ‘player’ form, an important distinction, because soon it became quite apparent that he was not the only inhuman being taking residence in these infinite series of planes. Regardless, typically he needed to take a human-esc form to travel, which wouldn’t be an issue if he didn’t have to face the magnitude of what he had done every single time.

As boars, bulls, and rams, Mumbo did not care for humanity. He did not feel guilt or shame, he did not fight the insatiable shadow that pulled him to consume, he simply did as he pleased, unthinking, rarely feeling. When he was human, he cared. The human did not like the shadow of cruel desire that stuck to the soles of his shoes, but human did not want to move on to the next world, the human did not want this to happen again. The human did not want this to happen, because it knew at the end of every meal it would have to face the regret caused by its shadow’s disregard.

But the human was still hungry. It still shared the cravings of its shadow, however, in an act of defiance, upon arriving in each new world, the human would linger. The human would build, work, make friends, and play games, and it would not eat to spite its shadow. But its shadow did not play fair or nice. Its shadow carved holes in its stomach, played tricks on its eyes, spoke of sweet horrors that would relieve its pain, if only it were to give in.

Physically, starvation did not make Mumbo any weaker. Even while living off scraps for years, Mumbo never succumbed to hunger-related deaths, though perhaps that was because his mind deteriorated far faster than his health.

To his mind, he always succumbed. Even worse, he relished the feeling. Mumbo the human would disappear, replaced by whatever predator suited him. He would feast. He would drive them all away. And then when it was all over, he’d be forced to reckon with it. The things he’d done to people he called friends. And he’d have to move on, because there was no more food that satisfied him. He’d have to move on, knowing it would happen again.

Often, he wondered if he would ever feel full. Feel sated. It was a fleeting hope that this would all end, Mumbo knew it well, but still his mind wandered. The closest he’d come to fullness was murdering that human in his own human body, but even then, that was more akin to nausea, though some days, he wanted to experiment. To see what would happen if he tried again.

But Mumbo couldn’t. He didn’t want to do that again. If anything, he deserved to starve for the things he’d done to ease the hunger, retreating to the peace of minds unburdened by this severe and overwhelming shame.

But he would not stop. He would not even return to the torture of animals; he couldn’t, not unless he returned himself to atoms, slowly working his way through growth and evolution until he could think again, remember, change back to bears and wolves and bulls, creatures big enough to hunt and terrorize the people at the center of his want. The only meals that felt enough, or, well, as close as enough as Mumbo could get. In the case of animals, he had no choice but to chase the better meal.

But what about as a human?

Mumbo could choose more easily as a human, he could decide not to kill, not to eat, but he’d never quite tried to only consume animals.

Humans ate animals all the time, it was not wrong. Mumbo knew very little about how he attained this information, the difference between right and wrong, but these sorts of things came with all changes, helping him discern social cues. But humans ate animals. So Mumbo could eat animals too. He could make them fear him, chase them, and it would have to be enough, though if it wasn’t, he deserved to feel empty, dead, justice for the lives he’d disrupted, driven from their homes.

Hermitcraft was the longest he’d managed to hold this habit. Mumbo had not been invited here; he never was, but the inhabitants seemed to forget this after a while, not that they could do anything about it. This was the place Mumbo had chosen; a small server compared to many, but something beautiful, something he took a great liking to while scouting it out. He enjoyed the community, friends, all of it, but there was a comfortable distance as well, one that would allow Mumbo to get up to whatever he wanted with little interference.

Though, the more time passed, year to year, Mumbo was more and more aware he was not the only person around with peculiar habits, particularly, gruesome and/or unsavory habits, which was as much of a relief as it could have been. It made Mumbo a little more comfortable, though no less careful.

He would not have anyone believe he was anything less than human. He would not let them know what he wanted with them, desires almost as overwhelming as the blast of feeling he’d been hit with on his first human kill.

It was a terrifying kind of intensity. Mumbo wasn’t sure how much longer he would last here. Rapidly, it felt like he had been slipping. Inhuman hunts just weren’t enough. But it was fine. It was fine. If he needed to escape to another world, he would, just like he’d done in the last two years. He tried not to think about how little time had passed since then, since his hiatus; how quickly the ache of starvation had returned. His shadow didn’t want other worlds. It wanted this one.

Maybe Mumbo could do it at the end of the season. Maybe once they were all ready to move on anyway, that’s when he could take everything he needed, then move on to new worlds and do it all over again.

(But he was starving now, he wanted to consume the world now, and it hadn’t even existed for that long; he’d have to wait months, maybe over a year, and every day he felt his resolve dwindling.)

(Would he start with Grian first? Take his closest friend, revel in this betrayal of trust? It was not that Grian would know it was Mumbo who was stalking him, Mumbo who took the form of any predator best suited for the job, but deep at the back of his mind, Mumbo would know, and he would take great pleasure in it.)

(Or maybe Grian would know. It would not be the first time a past friend had connected Mumbo’s disappearance with the monsters at their backs, gouging, tearing, delighting in their spilled blood.)

(Mumbo hoped Grian would recognize him. He loved when victims called his name.)

The thought left a pit in his stomach. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to go. But he did. He needed to. But he wouldn’t, not yet, and for all his fear of collapsing to the whims of his shadow, Mumbo did not lack control. Mumbo was not possessed, he was just hungry. He could grow up and deal with it. He would not touch a hair on anyone heres’ heads, at least not with his own hands. He’d certainly slipped a couple times in the eighth season, a little in the ninth even, but never directly. His fingers would never touch anyone elses’ throats.

And no one would ever know.

“Hello, Mumbo!” Someone’s voice came from above him where Mumbo was stewing over his own starvation, in a truly foul mood, though he didn’t intend on letting anyone else know that. He looked up, and despite his mood he laughed, staring up as Cub floated slowly down on his elytra, so slow he was hardly falling. Cub was not a person Mumbo often talked with, both of them airing on the shier side, not to mention somewhat conflicting personalities. Cub was the kind of person who was very free with his desires, even the unsavory ones, dismissing inhibitions and indulging whenever he saw fit, which was enough to set the hairs on the back of Mumbo’s neck on end. In fairness, Scar was the same way, but he was warmer, easier to talk to, and if Mumbo was being honest, sought Mumbo out more than Mumbo went to him. But as passing friends, he and Cub got on fine, neither of them missing the other if they didn’t talk for months at a time.

“What’s happened to you, mate? You get stuck up there?”

“No, no! This is the new thing, Mumbo, the new trend. Everyone’s doing it.”

Mumbo snorted, skeptical, “You’re the first person I’ve seen.”

“It’s a new trend, Mumbo, new. You’d best jump on it before it really picks up, you’ll be in with the coolest hermits around.”

“Ah. I understand.”

Cub smirked, raising an eyebrow as he pretended to miss Mumbo’s sarcasm, “Well then, I just so happen to have a shulker right here full of potions, even a spare elytra if you need it. Free of charge.”

Mumbo shook his head with a small laugh disguised poorly as a sigh, “No, I think I’m okay. Are you visiting everyone like this? Good luck with your trendsetting if that’s the case.”

“Oh, no, I’m not here to- one- give it a second-“ Cub waited until he hit the ground, still laying face down for some reason (if the purpose of face planting in the grass was to make Mumbo laugh, Cub had certainly succeeded), then getting to his knees and brushing off his khakis.

Mumbo clapped, amused, and Cub acknowledged him with a pleased nod, straightening up.

“Scar and I are about to tear each other to shreds and eat the pieces afterward, but he played dirty last time, and the winner- who kills the other first- gets a better share, so I thought I might invite you, really catch him off guard. You can share the winnings of course, I’m less about the prize and more about seeing Scar’s face when he realizes he’s outnumbered.”

Mumbo blanched.

There was no reason for Cub to be here, asking him this. Mumbo was human, as far as Cub knew Mumbo was human, and this was- this wasn’t-

Mumbo swallowed his anger, or maybe dread. He didn’t have to be rude about this. He knew well that Cub and Scar got up to all sorts of.. vex.. shenanigans.. and this was part of it. Cub knew Mumbo was friends with Scar, and he certainly knew that Grian and him were close, so given they were all working together in the permit office, well- Mumbo didn’t really know, maybe Cub just wanted to get to know him. Extend a vex offering of friendship.

Cub didn’t seem to care about the long silence, staring at Mumbo just as eagerly as he had been the moment he’d extended the invitation.

“That sounds unfair.” Mumbo tried, hoping to let Cub down easy.

“That doesn’t bother me,” Cub replied evenly, no less eager.

“Well I wouldn’t want to do that to poor Scar, no, I don’t think so. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“No?” Cub cocked his head, maybe curious, or maybe amused, “He’s not so innocent.”

Suddenly, perhaps brought on by a wave of hunger induced nausea, Mumbo no longer wanted to dance about the issue. “I don’t eat people, Cub,” he said firmly, anger or maybe fear spiking under his skin, his shadow screaming in protest, but he ignored it.

“You don’t?”

Mumbo was having a lot of trouble telling if the question was genuine or if Cub was just pretending. There was a little too much intention under his voice, which Mumbo took as a threat.

“I don’t.”

“Well you could just help me kill him?”

“I don’t kill people either.”

“That’s not true. We all kill each other.” Cub did sound genuine this time, confusion so clear that it made Mumbo feel guilty for assuming malintention, but at the same time, this was really a conversation he didn’t want to have.

“I don’t, Cub. I don’t.”

“Do you want to watch, then?”

Mumbo struggled not to be frustrated, but he was fighting a losing battle. “No, Cub! I do not want to watch. I want nothing to do with this.”

Cub deflated at that, quieting to the point where Mumbo almost felt bad, but he didn’t feel bad, because Cub was being ridiculous and honestly quite rude, and for goodness’s sake Mumbo did not want to have any part in this!

“Well,” Cub said finally, shrugging off his dejection, “You know where to find me.” His elytra flicked to life on his back, Cub producing rockets as he turned to leave. But he lingered, as if waiting for something. Mumbo did not say goodbye. He did not ‘know where to find Cub,’ nor would he want to find Cub in the near future for any reason.

Cub flew off.

Mumbo watched. Ah right. He’d been planning some landscaping before he’d gotten distracted in the spiral of his own mind, hm.. maybe he could ask Scar for some advice?

No. Not Scar. Not now. Mumbo would wait, at least a day to be sure. Maybe a couple days. Just to be safe.

[absolutely-esme]

Monster!Tim Coraline AU part 2

A while back, I posted an Idea I had For a Combination of a Coraline AU and a Meta!Tim AU. It's here assuming I made the link correctly.

Well, I had more thoughts on the matter, so I'm making another post.

First off, I want to expand/clarify on how Tim's powers work.

Tim fights (or otherwise challenges) various supernatural things and gains power from defeating them.  I touched on this before and mentioned that it was because it was symbolically similar hunting and eating prey.  I would like to talk a bit more about what this entails. 

Upon achieving victory, Tim takes a bit of power from the defeated opponent and incorporates it into himself.  Tim can gain abilities this way or just boost his own power level a bit.  He does not physically eat any part of his opponent.

The opponent is left a bit weaker, but does not lose abilities completely and is not permanently damaged.  They can get their power levels back up given some time.  Think of it like donating blood, they’ll be a little weak and woozy for a bit, but no lasting harm is done.  Now, I cannot stress enough that this is because of the choices Tim makes. 

Tim chooses to use his powers in the gentlest way available.  He chooses not to take more than they can safely part with.  He chooses not to simply consume them completely.  He chooses to pay careful attention to how much power his opponents can afford to part with and whether or not they are in a position to weather the recovery safely.  Tim grew up looking up to Batman and Robin.  He believes in harm reduction. 

That’s why the supernatural-leaning rogues fear him so much.  Their instincts are very aware that this is a predator that has simply decided not to kill them today.  He probably won’t next time either, but he could easily make a different decision at any time.  At least some of them are not entirely aware of their ties to the supernatural or why the third Robin inspires such primal existential fear.

The thing that drives Tim to keep doing these challenges is not primarily a desire for power (though some of the abilities he gains are useful), but rather because it makes the hunger more manageable for a bit.  It doesn’t stop it, but it takes the edge off for a little while.  Tim was incredibly suspicious of this at first.  He knows full well that his condition makes a point of being inconvenient and that it is easy to spiral out of control in a way that makes one dangerous to oneself or others.  He remembers how miserable the fallout of trying to eat to fullness was.  He made a careful study of the challenges and how they affected him.  He kept meticulous notes on his mental and physical state.  He also created and stuck to a very rigid schedule on how often he would allow himself to “hunt,” and made a point of not taking too much from his “prey.”

Tim starts off pretty close to a baseline human and gathers abilities over time.

When he is very young he gains improved stealth and the ability to sense secrets.  For a little while, that’s all he has, until he learns that there are other things in Gotham he can challenge.

 While he was still very young he collected the ability to make his fingernails razor-sharp, the ability to climb like a goat, some minor enhanced strength (just enough to somewhat offset the disadvantage of being so tiny), partial immunity to slipperiness caused by water (from the many rain/fog/whatever spirits to be found in a city as gloomy as Gotham), increased impact resistance (don’t know what that thing was, but Tim’s not sure if he actually beat it or if it was just so high above his level that it felt safe to feed him a scrap of its power purely out of curiosity over what he might do with it), and a bite like a beartrap.

Then the Beldam incident happened.  He got a lot from dealing with the Beldam because that wasn’t an ordinary challenge (by his way of doing things).  The Beldam was too powerful, too dangerous, too impossible to contain, too sneaky, too focused on targeting vulnerable victims who won’t be missed in time for any sign to be found.  Tim had to stop her for good right then and there because he only had one shot.  Even if he survived and escaped (which wasn’t especially likely if he held back at all) she would go right on killing children.  There was no way to put the Beldam in Arkham even just until the next breakout.  No way to track the Beldam.  No way of protecting other isolated, vulnerable children without lethal force.  So Tim killed the Beldam and consumed it entirely (he has to think of the Beldam as an it, he can’t afford to do otherwise). 

From defeating the Beldam, he gained a supernatural knack for fiber arts (especially spinning, weaving, and sewing), the ability to control things he makes with these skills to a certain degree, the ability to see through buttons he’s sewn on things, some slight shapeshifting, minor space-folding on the level of making his pockets a bit bigger on the inside, and illusory powers that allow him to make things seem a bit nicer/brighter/more pleasant.  He also gains a pretty huge general power boost that goes into enhancing his existing abilities.  He takes to spinning some very strong cord and keeping a few skeins on his person at all times because it’s useful for a number of things and makes a pretty good weapon, especially with his ability to manipulate it.

The shapeshifting isn’t much on it’s own, but it can combine with other abilities he’s taken on to let him make greater changes and take on forms that better support use of his powers.

After the Beldam incident, Tim’s power levels increase a good deal very quickly, allowing him to challenge and defeat stronger opponents and collect stronger abilities.  Tim continues wandering, continues fighting, continues gaining power. 

(Trauma?  What Trauma?  He’s fine.  It all turned out okay in the end.  The Beldam is dead.  The souls she trapped are free.  Tim totally doesn’t have complicated feelings about killing her.  It.  Tim is fine.  Tim totally doesn’t have nightmares about an evil Batman with buttons for eyes.  You would not believe how fine he is.)

He collects some extra senses that allow him to maintain greater awareness of his surroundings.  He gains the ability to produce and maintain a very small fire (like a candle flame on a tealight) at his fingertips.  He gets quicker reflexes from something he probably wouldn’t have been able to beat prior to killing the Beldam (he had to tank an uncomfortable number of hits in that fight).

He gains the ability to find and use what he decides to call shortcuts. They’re these odd little throughways tucked into out of the way places that he can pass through and go from one place to someplace a fair distance away.   One of them is an odd little opening in a wall between a dead-end alley and a rooftop on the other side of town.  The shortcuts don’t look odd or out of place.  He mostly recognizes them by vibes.  If he had been born with this ability rather than gaining it later in life he probably wouldn’t have realized that there was anything odd about the shortcuts or that no one else could see them.

…

Tim goes on doing his thing, pretending he wasn’t traumatized by the Beldam, and even managing to heal a little despite his somewhat unhealthy handling of it.

Then Robin dies, and Batman loses it.  Now Batman is self-destructing and looks like he’s going to take all of Gotham down with him, the Other Gotham Nightmares are back, and Robin is fucking dead. 

Tim is not okay.

Tim tries to get someone else, anyone else, to deal with the situation because a violent, out of control Batman is a pretty massive trigger for him.  No one else who seems like they might be able to do anything for Batman is willing to intervein.  Batman is getting worse.

It looks like Tim is going to have to be the one to do something about this.

…

When Tim eventually begins his training to be Robin, it is such a hassle learning how to fight without his powers.  Batman and Nightwing think he’s incredibly clumsy when he first starts his training and wonder just how the heck he managed to follow them undetected for so long.  Then the clumsiness clears up more quickly than they would have expected, and they are concerned that he might have had a concussion when he started training and they didn’t notice. 

It’s actually because he has to re-learn how to get around without using his powers in a way that Batman and Nightwing would notice, and he’s started to forget how to account for large bulky items that aren’t tucked away in a pocket dimension.  That said, he did do it all without powers in the beginning so he’s re-learning rather than learning something new for the first time.  Also, he figures out pretty quickly that he can use the stealth he got from secret hunters and the goat-like climbing ability he got from a Jersey Devil because neither Bruce nor Dick realizes just how unusual Dick’s childhood level of ability was.

While Tim is operating as the Bats’ emotional support child, he uses his illusion powers from the Beldam to look cute, comforting, healthy, and un-concerning.  When he’s not with the Bats, he drops the illusion and just goes about his business with his actual appearance.  When he has some shit to get done far enough outside of the Bats’ sphere of influence that he can be reasonably confident he can avoid them finding out about it, he turns into something out of a scary movie.

Guess who gave digital art a try? Here we have Emotional Support Tim, Regular Tim, and Cryptid Tim.

I hadn't originally planned for Cryptid Tim to be showing that much skin, but i had to spend a lot of time figuring out the anatomy before I could figure out how to dress him, and by the time I realized what I was doing, i'd put so much work into the shading on the ribcage that i didn't want to cover it completely. Tim won't actually dress like that in Cryptid form, I just worked really hard on the anatomy. I should do more art to figure out his actual Cryptid Garb.

I went the stretched out, spindly monster route for Tim's Cryptid form because his magic/condition is called "afflicted with gluttony." I know a lot of artists make monsters based on the concept of gluttony heavyset with lots of excess fat tissue, but I feel like it makes sense to have a gluttony monster look hungry, like no matter how much it's eaten it's nowhere near enough.

The gray-ish skin with darker gray hands was just because I thought it would look spooky, and redoing the hands once they were done felt like it would be a lot of work. Hands are hard. Especially with foreshortening.

[stars-and-inkpots]

hey! could you write a little something based on our wizards fav line "if I don't get my beauty sleep soon, i might get just a tad malcontent" - tired cranky wizard ftw! 🤣

absolutely i can! (i hear this line a lot given my tendency to do absolutely everything i can before long resting even though i very much do not need to) thank you for this idea! hope you enjoy!

Beauty Sleep | Gale x Reader

You forget that not everyone is used to so much travelling in one day. Gale is more than eager to remind you that some people would very much enjoy some rest, and soon.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: Cuddling, fluff

Word Count: 583

All things considered, Gale did try to keep his complaints to a minimum. He understood that things had to get done, and that you had to make the most of the day’s limited hours. It was, however, becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the exhaustion that was steadily consuming him. 

“We should rest these weary bones of ours soon,” Gale says to you as you walk. The rest of the group has started to slow, but the sun is still high enough in the sky that it would be too early yet to retire for the night. 

“Soon enough,” you answer. You can hear Gale’s disappointed huff, but he says nothing more. You continue on. The day has mostly been mapping out the forest, gathering supplies and clearing the path for tomorrow when you planned to move camp. It’s given you little trouble, only a few gnolls to be dealt with which was only a minor inconvenience at best. 

“We should rest soon. It’s hard to save the world while you’re stifling yawns,” Gale speaks up again after another hour. This time, the group seems to share his opinion, though none of them voice this. 

“We’ll return to camp soon. I want to explore just a little further; it will make the trip tomorrow easier.” You watch as Gale, clearly disappointed with this answer, sighs but continues to walk beside you. He trusts your judgement, and knows that you have the group's best interest at heart. “I promise we’ll return soon, my love,” you say quietly. The pet name eases the ire that grows with the pain in his knees. 

The sun has well begun its journey towards the horizon by the time Gale speaks up again. His patience, as boundless as it is, is truly beginning to wane. 

“If I don’t get my beauty sleep soon, I might just get a tad malcontent.” His tone is short and clipped, exhaustion leaving him increasingly irate. 

You smile despite yourself; as bad as you feel for the clear discomfort of the wizard, his use of the phrase ‘beauty sleep,’ you must admit, is a little funny. “Yes, I’m sorry. I lost track of time.” You look back at the others. “That’s enough for today, let’s head back.” You turn back to Gale to add, much quieter, “I am sorry, truly. I forget that others aren’t used to travelling this much in a day. Could I make it up to you with a cuddle later? Unless you don’t wish me to interrupt your ‘beauty sleep,’ that is.” He knows you’re teasing him a little, but he’s inclined to let it slide when he notices the genuine care in your words. 

“I suppose I could accept such an apology. My rest could wait just a little longer, perhaps.” 

You’re relieved to see his smile return as you walk back to camp. 

You keep your word. Once everyone has eaten and gone to their respective tents, you meet Gale in his. 

Looking just as comfortable as he always does, Gale is waiting on his bedroll, already underneath the several blankets. When he sees you, he’s quick to pull them back to make room for you to fit yourself in beside him. You wrap your arms around him, and within minutes his breathing has evened out and you can hear the faint snores that let you know he’s found sleep. You press a quick kiss to the top of his head, then let yourself drift into unconsciousness as well.

[aromanticannibal]

Anyways. Headcanons based on whatever progression this is.

I said headcanons and I lied. Over-analyzing time.

First thing I was thinking about: how are Katsuki and Izuku childhood friends when they are very clearly from different cultures slash tribes slash villages. The idea I ended up with is that Katsuki's people move a lot since they have dragons and they temporarily settled near the Midoriya's house at some point.

Very quickly because I made a post about this before : at some point All Might's sword breaks or is broken on purpose by All Might and its two parts are given to Katsuki and Izuku (this is somewhat lore accurate/canon to the fantasy art series). I headcanon that Katsuki and Izuku then personalize their swords more, keeping the blade intact while modifying the hilt and such (see last illustration: Katsuki's sword is more visible that Izuku's but both have blades in a similar shape as the All Might/One For All sword. There's also that Izuku has another sword at his hip and Katsuki's original sword, the curved one, isn't the one that's out).

Shouto and Enji are so fucking weird.

Shouto's demonic situation in the second illustration clearly represents his left side being associated with his father (bad) and his hatred (also bad). I'm gonna say this is a curse passed down from Enji and created from hatred - the more hate you feel, the more the curse consumes you, but you can learn to wield the curse's power if you let go of your hatred. Both Shouto and Enji are fighting the curse in the second illustration (explaining Enji's fuckass costume hiding his flames, probably) and both of them let go of their hatred (Enji for All Might, Shouto for Enji) in the last illustration.

I also assume given their outfits that they're royalty, if not the king and prince, other similarly important guys.

I think heroes are knights, maybe, probably.

All Might is likely some kind of knight or warrior, Iida and Yaoyorozu are knights, Jirou is a knight, Aizawa is kind of a knight, maybe? It's not a fullproof theory I'll be honest, not all pro-heroes or heroes in training are knight coded in the fantasy series.

The ugly ass dragon?

The ugly ass dragon in the second illustration seems to be an ally to Katsuki and Izuku (and therefore the others) but for reasons you'll understand every soon it's fucking dead. I'm assuming it got killed by villains. Whoops.

So the reason I think it's dead is uh. Yo? Katsuki and Izuku's shoulder pads in the last illustration sure are purple and scaly huh? And the ornaments on Katsuki's new sword sure are orange and horn-looking, huh?

Anyways, the dragon got killed and they used its body for armor and weaponry.

the green capes?

The last illustration has Izuku, Shouto, Ochako, Iida and Aizawa wearing the same type of green cape (Ochako's is a little different but it's still the same green). So this is the Dekusquad plus Aizawa, I'm gonna go ahead and say this is Izuku's party, RPG style. Aizawa is probably here to mediate and make sure they don't die. Katsuki isn't there because he likely is leading the other party.

Kirishima glow up? hello?

He looks so fucking cool in the last illustration I don't even have anything to say. He also looks closer to Katsuki's clothing style, so I'm gonna say Kirishima is part of Katsuki's tribe slash village slash whatever the fuck but left to become a knight and then started getting more in touch with his culture when meeting Katsuki.

Stuff I point out without expanding on it:

Hawks' wings are gone, whoops. Interesting that the fake ones are white and not red. Dove much?

Yaomomo baby that armor isn't protecting you. However you are safe anyway because you are clearly some kind of magic user as well as knight and probably have some kind of force field in place.

Ochako's hat updates to have horns. Minachako goodness. /hj

Kaminari is a cute bard! He's such a romantic. Holding a flower and shit

Not visible in the picture I have. Guys I know we all love the I on Katsuki's arm but I'm sorry it's likely the number 1 in roman lettering rather than the letter -i. He's the number one. He's so goofy.

[kimbap-r0ll]

What dorm leaders may do when stressed

Uni's kicking me and hopefully won't for the next week haha (may you all be blessed with less work soon)

Riddle

I feel like he would be under pressure 24/7 he thinks it's weird when he doesn't feel any :/ (it's giving toxic)

Academics never really stressed him out while at NRC but if there was something it would be his duties as dorm leader. He loves his job sure, but it comes with its own set of work. Add Ace, Deuce, Grim to the list of things he has to keep an eye out for and he really starts to feel tired haha

He will likely have more caffeine than usual, opting for tea over coffee. He also tends to sleep less, saying that while it's better to sleep more, he needs to get things done.

He's a bit more agitated, you can tell he's stressed by seeing the number of students he's had to behead go up. You may also spot Trey talking to him more, maybe sneaking him a sweet treat to help him push through exam week or so haha

If he has an s/o, he wouldn't want them to worry about him so he'll just try his best to hide it. However, if his s/o were to give him something nice during stressful times, he will be extremely grateful (expect him to give them something in return)

Leona

He tries to stop work before it gets stressful and he's surprisingly good at it. Either he gets work done beforehand (very rare) or he just doesn't do it at all (extremely likely).

He gets stressed about other things than academics since he's already pretty good at most subjects. I feel like what stresses him out would be familial things, or at least ones pertaining to his brother and whatnot.

When he's stressed he tends to be a little bit more on edge, a little more snarky. But overall, he'll be sleeping more and less likely to actually fight someone. If a random student is bothering him for example, he'll usually hit the lightly on the shoulder and tell them to stop. In times of stress, he tends to just walk away and hope the student doesn't follow him (doesn't have the energy to bother)

If he has an s/o, he's more clingy. It's a little surprising coming from someone who usually tries to convince his s/o to leave him alone, but when he's stressed he wants more attention. Definitely pulled his s/o to a nap more than once

Azul

He's like Riddle, he thinks it's weird when he's not under pressure and will constantly look for ways to get himself stressed :/

He gains most of his stress from his physical appearance, mainly because of his childhood. However, he also gets stressed from wanting to maintain a perfect image. He wants to get good at every class, wants to be a good businessman for the school lounge, etc.

He's a coffee addict, but this will only grow when he's stressed out. Will he consume more than four cups of coffee? Yes. Is he ok? No. He also is a bit more snappy when he's stressed, but you won't see him lash out or snap, more like a snarky comment here and there. Jade and Floyd will likely not mess around with him when he's stressed since they can't get a usually-flustered Azul out of him.

If he has an s/o, he will also be super clingy. It's not that surprising since he loves attention, but his s/o might have trouble studying themselves having to take care of Azul. The two of them should probably set up study dates instead if he wants to be around them 24/7.

Kalim

Probably has the healthiest work-life balance ever. He is rarely stressed out and if anything probably causes more stress to Jamil haha

He gets stressed out when he's dealing with a lot of exams (like most students) but he also gets stressed when he has a crush but has no idea how to approach it. So, he gets stressed out in more emotional, intimate things

You will likely never see this man stressed out, but if you do, you won't really notice it. He's surprisingly good at hiding how much pressure he's going through, but if you look closely you'll see that he's a bit jumpier than usual. He also has a bigger appetite, so expect frequent visits to Sam's shop for some snacks

If he has an s/o, he's also super clingy and wants them to take care of him. If the two of them are in the same class that he's stressed about, then the two of them definitely have all-nighters together. If he has a crush on someone, he will almost avoid them like the plague since he wants to approach them at the right time but has no idea if he can actually find a right timing

Vil

Constantly under pressure but never shows it. He has lived under immense pressure since he was a little kid, so he also thinks having no pressure at all is a little weird (though he wants a good break)

It's his career that stresses him out the most, more than his work at school. Sure, there are times students at Pomefiore put him off, but he's always stressed out about maintaining the perfect image whenever he has to go for a modeling event or when he's trying out for a new role for an upcoming film.

This man will be extremely cold when he's stressed out. He's more ruthless as a dorm leader when he's stressed, likely pointing out mishaps from students here and there without mincing his words. He also tends to distance himself from others since he knows he's not that good with words when he's stressed out and he also doesn't want to use more energy talking to people

If he has an s/o, he will likely distance himself from them for a little bit. He loves them yes, but he doesn't want them to know he's going through a lot and would rather have them not worry about him. If his s/o gives him something nice though, he'll be super grateful about it

Idia

He's not always stressed out but he does get stressed from time to time. He doesn't like taking exams, but the thing that stresses him out the most is having to be around a lot of people for a long time (think school events)

During Halloween he's probably a bit more on edge than usual. Either way, he gets stressed when he wants to make new friends or show that he's not a scary or weird person but he doesn't know if he's doing well conversing with others. To him, he'd rather talk to people online than go through having to make eye-contact or having to meet someone physically

He's just detached when he's stressed, will drink more energy drinks than usual too. He barely sleeps, but he'll pull more all-nighters than usual. Idia also doesn't want his younger brother knowing he's stressed out so he tries to distance himself for a little while. He doesn't have the energy to talk to people that much so he spends more time just on his bed and trying to relax when he can

If he has an s/o, he might distance himself from them but end up getting clingy. He won't downright pull his s/o to a nap like Leona but he will want them to just spend some time with him playing video games to de-stress. He might not tell them at first, but once he and his s/o get closer, then he'll likely just text them at 3am if they want to come over to play some games

Malleus

This man almost seems too perfect because he's just so good at every class, is quite charismatic, and just seems to have his life together. But that's not always the case!

He gets stressed from time to time if homework piles up but he gets more stressed out when he worries someone he cares about doesn't care about him back the same amount that he does. This usually goes the most with an s/o if he has one

When he is stressed out, he tends to distance himself from people similar to some of the other dorm leaders. However, he isn't really harsh with words, he just spends more time alone. He does, however, get angry more easily. Either lightning flashes outside when he gets pushed a little too hard or he just gives whatever is bothering him a mean glare like >:( for a good two minutes before Lilia's like "yo r u good"

If he has an s/o, he's super clingy without knowing it. He may want them to do more study dates at first. He'll sit across from them in the library but as time goes on he's somehow sitting right next to them, one arm around them, and like really close. Having a chill time with someone he cares about reaffirms that he does have people that care for him and it also helps him de-stress a lot.