#albeit highly unlikely

[weretoad-art]

made myself sad with that last fic, so drew this to cheer myself up XD

[riki-riks-chick]

HIII im sorry forr requesting this again i just love how u write, can u make another non affectionate niki? where his affectionate gf stops being clingy bc niki is annoyed with it yet he got jealous when he saw his gf pat or hug someone

Cling To Me ┃N.RK

non-affectionate!riki x affectionate!reader

riki gets upset bc yn isn't being clingy like usual and she's giving the other guys attention instead.

cw: fluff! jealous riki, kisses, hugs, riki secretly likes yn's clinginess.

wdct: 858

don't be srry for requesting again bc I'm lowkey obsessed w non-affectionate riks too. the first one was originally js for me but now im obsessed.

═════════════

Third Person POV~

Today you had plans with Riki and his friends, so you got up early, wanting to shower before he got up so you could make sure he had breakfast. He often skips so sometimes you have to semi-force him.

You took a quick shower, wearing some sweats and a loose tank top, and setting your outfit out to put on once you finished getting ready.

You made breakfast, a simple meal consisting of some fluffy pancakes, and some fruit. You also poured two glasses of orange juice, setting the table before heading back to the bed room to wake Riki.

"Riki.. Wake up.." You shake his arm, pushing his hair out of his face as he groaned. "Hm?..." His eyes flutter open as he gazes at you. You chuckle. "Get up... I made breakfast."

He sits up, stretching before getting out of bed and following you to the kitchen.

He mumbles a sleepy thank you before eating, albeit slowly.

"After you're done eating we can leave once we're both ready." You mumble as he nods. "Okay.." There's little conversation as you both finish eating, and Riki offers to do the dishes while you finish getting ready.

Once your hair and makeup is done, you put your planned outfit on which consisted of a pretty top Riki had bought for you and some jeans.

After finishing the dishes, Riki took a shower, spending minimal time getting ready, and once he finished, you both left.

The car ride to the arcade was short, and Riki had tried holding your hand and placing his hand on your thigh through out, but you rejected both actions by ignoring him.

He was confused because of how unlikely that was of you, but he tried to ignore it, not wanting to read too much into it.

When you finally got to the arcade, Riki opened your door for you, and you smiled, giving him a kiss to his cheek as a thank you.

The two of you walked in, immediately spotting Jungwon, Sunghoon, and Heeseung who were standing near the prize counter.

"Hey, guys." Jungwon greets as you and Riki walk over. He gives you a hug which you gladly return, making Riki pout. He gets even more upset when Sunghoon and Heeseung hug you too.

Now that he's thinking, you didn't give him a kiss or a hug when you woke him up, which is highly unlike you. And he can't tell if you're mad at him or not because you still made breakfast and you gave him a kiss on the cheek just a few minutes ago. It's all really confusing.

Once the rest of the guys get to the arcade, you all start playing games, and for the most part, you stick to Jay. And it's no surprise to Riki because you and Jay get along well and you call him your dad as a joke since he treats you like a kid and spoils you the same way he spoils everyone else.

But it's clear something is wrong when you guys leave the arcade, heading to a restaurant that you all wanted to eat at, and you don't sit next to Riki.

Not wanting to argue or make a scene, he decides to let it go, but it kills him everytime he glances around the table and he sees you giggling with Sunghoon and Sunoo. For some reason it irks him that he's not the one with your attention.

He finds himself wondering if you ever feel like this, and if it's one of the reasons you're so keen on affection, but he still can't wrap his mind around your reason for avoiding him today.

This bothers him until you get home, and you're both quiet as you change, getting comfy for the night. You're taking off your makeup and doing your skincare, but Riki is already on the bed, a pout set on his lips.

He waits until you finally climb onto the bed to glance at you. "Are you mad at me?..." He asks as you look over at him, confusion settling on to your face.

"No, why?.." You question as he sighs. "You've been ignoring me all day.. And you haven't hugged or kissed me at all, even when you woke me up this morning."

You chuckle at his words. "I didn't think you would care.. Usually you call me clingy when I'm all over you throughout the day." You mumble as he sighs. "That doesn't mean I don't like it... I was suffering all day because I thought you were upset with me. I went all day without a single hug or kiss from you."

You laugh at how pouty and adorable he is, moving to hug him, before pulling back to pepper kisses all over his face and then his lips.

He smiles, deepening the kiss, his large palm cupping your jaw. He eventually pulls away with a smile. "Please don't ignore me again.. I want you to cling to me.."

═════════════

[iveriee]

tom riddle x sub ! clingy ! reader

( headcanons )

— no mention of reader's gender. tom is a toxic fucking bastard. reader is desperate. emotional manipulation. kind of fluffy. sexually explicit material in the nfsw section. oral. sadism. slight crack. aftercare (?). crumbs of sub ! tom. pulled this one out of my drafts aswell. NOT PROOFREAD !! can be read as a summarisation / alternate universe of escape.

— he doesn't know whether to be annoyed or flattered, for you rarely let him get out of your sight — often clinging to him like a parasite, head buried in his chest, arms wrapped around his neck.

— at first, he finds it endearing how you pout whenever he leaves. you're like an accessory to him — a prized possession that can't live without him.

— you take his hand, oh-so-gently and kiss him every single day. you tell him everything about your day, from the tiniest fragments to entire events.

— and it's nice of you — it really is. but unfortunately it is getting tiring.

— it is getting tiring to listen to your rambles, he thinks as you go on a tangent about how you accidentally spilled ink over your benchmate and how they 'overeacted'.

— you're like a bug now.

— weak. needy. pathetic.

— and he has no time for people with such characteristics, he cannot afford to.

— so he begins to ignore you. slowly but surely he does.

— and you grow crazy.

— why is he ignoring you? what did you do even do? did you mess up?

— you try to talk to him but he doesn't pay any attention.

— fuck. fuck. fuck.

— you always mess things up. you should've never overstepped his boundaries. you should've never clung to him like a fucking parasite. you never should have.

— so you do something you never should have done. again.

— ( you'll never change, will you ? )

— you beg for forgiveness on your knees — tears streaming down your cheeks.

— and he smirks ever so slightly. a sort of sadistic delight jolts through him.

— he pats your head and tells you there's no need to act this way — and that you're being silly.

— this fucker, you think before nodding at his words.

— he fucking ignored you and now he's saying that you're being silly for complaining ?

— you decide to let it be and focus on the positive aspects: you have him back now.

— (..presumably.)

— and so it happens again — you hug him so tight that your arms begin to sore. you tell him about your day. (albeit less), you kiss his cheeks and you gawk at his intelligence and you're...happy.

— or are you?

— because beneath all that affection, you are hollow.

— he can't love you, no, — but he'll accept your affection. it strokes his ego, probably.

— and you don't mind as much as you thought you would.

* what if you try to make him jealous ? or cheat on him. ?

oh merlin. you're screwed. done for. ended. dead. because, (i) it's highly unlikely that he'll fall for your pretense and (ii) if he somehow does, he'll make sure to make that fucker's life a living hell and perhaps yours too. how dare you fucking betray him for some piece of worthless shit? how the fuck could you?

he wasted so much of his time on you. so much of his time that could've been utilised. and yet he spent it reassuring you of your worth, listening to your tangents, helping you, and being..yours. you were his, obviously, but even more surprisingly, he was, in some twisted way, yours too.

and now you cheated on him. after he took the time to be vulnerable with you, after he exposed his true colours to you, after you peeled back his cold exterior. (after he let you pepper kisses all over his face and boop his nose!)

he thought he was the cruel one. but it seems you are. and you're not just cruel, no, — you're a fucking monster. something he never thought he'd use to describe you. a word usually reserved for him, back at that stupid muggle orphanage.

* how would he react to you being thoughtful and remembering the tiniest things about him ?

he'd be flattered, really — it's his most common reaction to your shenanigans, after all. he does indeed love having his ego stroked and your dedication to him would surely do that. you remembered how he prefers using fountain quills ? how endearing. you remembered his favourite colour, his favourite subject, his boundaries, his interests—

still, it's adorable. how you take the time to memorize everything about him in that pretty little head of yours. but that's not all. let's say — you remembered his..... birthday. actually, fuck no. he hates his birthday and would probably give you a nasty glare before walking off.

there are certain things that he doesn't want you knowing, obviously and if you find out, he'll obliviate you or if he can't do that, he'd ghost you or threaten you, depending on what you know. ("love. how can you even say that I went to the girl's lavatory? you have no reason to think that. and no, i absolutely was not being a cree— what are you even on about?")

but still, I'd say his outlook would usually be positive.

* how would he react to you being jealous ?

— he would be, to say the least, amused. it would mean that you do indeed care about him. perhaps a bit too much...

— he taps his nails against his desk smugly as you pout in your classic fashion and yell at him. tom doesn't understand how you feel even a twinge of the hot, burning embarassment you are supposed to feel when acting so utterly ridiculous.

— when you finally stop ( and merlin it is after a long time when you do ) there might aswell be smoke puffing out of your nose.

— he takes your flushed cheeks and squishes them, hands digging into your flesh. when you groan out in protest, he shhs you as if you are a fucking child.

— "you're jealous." he whispers, his lips curling. and he knows he's right, by the way your eyes divert and your breathing turns ragged.

— "trust me, i am yours. why would you think that way? do you not trust me?" he then smoochs your forehead and FUCKING LEAVES !!!! the bastard leaves.

— he can't help but chuckle as he walks out. you are mortifying. ridiculous. stupid. and oh so naive. you are all of that indeed. and worse, even.

— alas, he cannot leave you. you are entertaining. overly so. ( and because he loves you but he would never admit that)

* what if you comfort him because of his past ? what if you just can't handle that the person you love had to suffer ?

he'd be... astonished. despite feigning displeasure, he would be, in somewhere deep in his heart, utterly and completely, — flattered. you. sweet you. hugging him — apologizing for something you were not even apart of. sniffling, hands softly trailing across his cheeks. you had always been affectionate, yes — but this? nobody had done this for him.

and for that, he leans into your touch; your sweet, honey-dripping kisses and words. he feels strange. a strange kind of heat creeps up his body and he doesn't know if he hates it or if he loves it. all he knows that you're the reason why the sudden warmth erupts in his stomach in the first place. you. you.

he's scared. so scared. scared that he might aswell peel back all the boundaries he's been keeping for long, held together by his sheer unwillingness to show a fleck of vulnerability. he doesn't want you thinking he's weak and even more, that...he loves you.

nfsw.

— oh shit.

— you are eager — really eager.

— and he doesn't know how to react to it.

— his drive really isn't all that high, so you have to be the one to initiate it.

— most of the time, you let him take the lead and do he wants to.

— he fucking LOVES teasing you in public places.

— he'll trail his fingers across your thighs in the midst of a class and tell you to be quiet when you whimper ever so slightly.

— and it's torturous — how he coaxes involuntary gasps out of you. how he does not give a flying fuck about your dignity.

— what can you do but sniffle and grip the table tightly, lips trembling? merlin, you want, no, need him. and there's a hot, gashing fire inside of you — all consuming, heavy and ravenous .

— he likes giving you oral too. maybe even more than he likes recieving it.

— he'd drag his tongue between your legs and you'd cry out his name and grab his hair even more tightly, all while he never breaks eye contact. you'd be the one sobbing and breathless, not him — despite him being on his knees.

— it somehow brings him satisfaction to know that you'll always be beneath him.

— he's not that great at aftercare — he doesn't know how to 'comfort' you, so he just holds you suffocatingly tight until you fall sleep.

* would he let you take control ?

not reeeeally ?? yes but also no. he'd let you be in charge occasionally, of course, but if you tried to convince him again, he'd merely chuckle and roll his eyes. ("no, love — i'm not letting you tie me up again. not after what you did. and don't try to manipulate me with those puppy eyes.")

but secretly, he would enjoy it. although he'd die rather than admit it. your eyes seem to light up whenever he says that you can take the lead and obviously.. you're quite enthusiastic and this enthusiasm translates...strangely during the act. he finds that he doesn't mind, closing his eyes and lying back for once. but it is so very mortifying to beg you for more.

[nijigasakilove]

Speechless. Best episode of the series by far. All the little seemingly disjointed episodes and case of the week stuff has been building up to this and it paid off wonderfully. We ate so good today.

Episode didn’t start off too different from other recent ones. Some nice Maomao banter, comedic moments and a new case. But at this point it’s become apparent these “random” incidents aren’t so random after all. Everything seems to circle back to ceremonies. Tools, people in charge of them, etc. Someone’s planning something. Good thing we got detective Maomao on the case 😂

I want someone to look at me like Maomao looks at Jinshi when he offers her Ox gallbladders for her experiments lmao. Even Jinshi was shocked by how much her personality changed in that moment. You offer her stuff like that and Maomao will turn into Sherlock Holmes’s real quick.

Ok but the second half of this episode is where stuff started entering WTF territory for me. First of all smart of Maomao to rush over to the temple to try and stop the ceremony before disaster struck. She unfortunately didn’t think thru the fact that she is a simple servant, albeit a highly respected one, but still unlikely that anyone would stop a ceremony because she says so.

I like how you see her kinda try several different methods to get the guard to let her in. Begging, appealing rationally and then of course baiting him into a reaction but did he seriously need to hit her with a weapon?? I’m glad I skipped the preview for this week episode because seeing Maomao’s face swollen and bloodied was wild.

Even wilder that Lakan was there the whole time and could’ve spoke up before his presumable daughter got struck like that.. but I can’t lie he did come in clutch at the end with helping her get into the ceremony and ultimately save Jinshi

Speaking of which, wtf! Why is Jinshi there? Again kinda already could tell because of all the hints and foreshadowing, but this basically confirms that he’s related to the emperor, likely his brother. Which was hinted at back in the first cour with the whole baby fiasco. Think Lakan reaction was all of our reaction in that moment, sheer utter disbelief.

Don’t think I’ve ever seen that look on Jinshi face either. He looked like he was about to cry when he saw Maomao face and leg.. the ending scene of him carrying her leaving a bloody path in their wake with that OST playing.. immaculate. I also liked the imagery of him carrying Maomao the opposite direction of Lakan.

I NEED THE NEXT EPISODE

[yappielestappie]

Some lestappen thoughts in these trying times:

I think Max and Charles have a bond unlike anyone else in F1, even though they’re not that close of friends. I’d even go so far as to say they’re trauma bonded.

We all know Jos was downright horrible. It’s quite reasonable to assume that this was very hard on Max as a child, and that he felt alienated and alone (recall the quote of him saying it would’ve been nice to be able to play football with kids his age, sometimes). The only times he got to hang around with kids his age was on the race track. And who was always there? Always at the top? Always challenging him? Charles Leclerc.

Charles, meanwhile, had the opposite. He had a entire support system built around his racing career. He had both brothers and his godfather with him, and a fathers love to guide him through. In his teens, he lost both Jules and his father, and suddenly, the only consistent familiar part of racing that remainder from his childhood, would have been Max.

Meanwhile, while Charles was suffering this loss, Max was in Formula 1, in a top team, doing quite well, and had picked up a support system (albeit a likely limited one) in Daniel Riccardo. I think Charles was extremely jealous of Max when he also got to F1 in 2018. Their whole lives, they’d been opponents, and then Max beat him to F1 by 3 years & had everything Charles did not (a good seat, a father, an older F1 driver to guide him). I also think that’s why the Austria 2019 podium ended up being such a big conflict. It was a lot more than just a win to Charles. It was proving himself.

Now, they’ve both matured (Daniel helped Max and Seb helped Charles). They can look back on their karting days fondly, and they both recognize that the only real supportive part of their karting careers that still remains, is each other. All the hatred they had for one another has turned into support, and a kind of respect that very few drivers have for one another.

They have something special. It’s undeniable. There’s no other drivers on the grid that have history anything like them (Pierresteban could be discussed but that’s a whole mess). And now I think they’re old enough to realize they have something special.

Max genuinely cares about Charles. It’s obvious. Their racing is so much different to anyone else Max goes wheel to wheel with. Leclerc is the only driver I’ve ever seen him apologize to. The whole “Charlie I’ve got a space for you!” Thing is still blowing my mind. Max talks about Charles like he’s the only one Max actually wants to race, like Charles is the only person worthy of challenging him. He rates Charles over everyone else even when he fucks up “come on Charles man, too many mistakes” comes to mind.

And Charles is the same way right back, he just usually has a bit more shame. It’s worth noting that he speaks highly about a lot of other drivers, but Max always seems special. He compliments max out the wazoo sometimes. It’s clear that he sees Max as the very best - as the benchmark to beat. But more than that, he defends Max just like we do. Charles always supports Max’s moves on Lando, even when they’re clearly in the wrong. He supports Max’s aggressive racing, claims to LIKE it even, when Max is being constantly harassed by the fans and media.

There’s something between them. Some unspoken reason why they support each other like this and the only conclusion I can come to is that the memories they have of each other are inseparable from their memories of racing. They’ve been competing at the top since they were 6 years old. They know how to be rivals better than they know how to do anything else in the world.

I don’t know if they ever hang out outside of F1. I don’t know if we’ll ever see them interact again once Max retires. But I do know that they’ve shaped each other in a way that will impact them until the day they die. Every untainted memory from their childhoods is about each other. All the memories of loss and abuse are separate to their memories of each other. They are the only thing that remains.

The most fundamental part of racing for Max, is beating Charles. And the most fundamental part of racing for Charles, is beating Max. Everyone else on the grid is irrelevant- an obstacle. They are two halves of the same story and I think that’s more beautiful than any romance book I’ve ever read.

oh anon you are so absolutely right. listen for me, it's the fact that we can talk all day about lestappen and ship them or let our imaginations and minds go wild with w/e but fundamentally? at the end of the day? there is also substance to it - even any form of fandom aside, there are simply facts about them that make them such a beautiful dynamic. there is something so mesmerizing about the level on which they drive, perform, their talents and skills and the way they grew up with and around each other in a sense. the beautiful juxtapositions, the red strings of fate, the way their paths kept crossing and intertwining even before they raced each other again (suzuka being max' first proper f1 test drives and then jules etc.)... there is just something cosmic about them that (as stated in some previous post) almost boils down to THEM BOTH BEING LIBRAS which is still driving me insane. the balance. the way this just screams UNIVERSE just as partners in life, as twin flames, as two sides of the same coin, two weights on a scale... again, not even saying this is related to the fandom angle of romance. like you said it almost runs deeper than that. and i, personally, refuse to be normal about it the same way the two of them are never truly normal about each other.

[evilbihan]

Congratulations, OP, on making the most factually incorrect post I've ever seen on this hellsite.

Let's take this trainwreck of an "analysis" apart step by step, shall we?

Oh, good lord, now I'm seeing Bi-Han stans say his father was abusive. There is literally nothing in MK1 implying that.

In the previous timeline, Bi-Han's and Kuai Liang's father literally kidnapped them and killed their mother and sister, then raised them to become assassins against their will, but now we're supposed to believe that man's a saint?

I've said this in a different post before and I'll repeat it here too: The core essence of every character in MK1 is basically still the same as it was in the old timeline. Geras is still loyal to his creator (previously Kronika, now Liu Kang), Scorpion might be a different person now but he's still vengeful, Sindel is good now, but she's still a merciless ruler, Kung Lao is still ambitious, etc. Not a single one of these characters is a completely new and different person. Following that logic, the same thing would apply to the old grandmaster.

At first glance, it may seem like nothing implies that Bi-Han's and Kuai Liang's father was abusive, but that's only if you ignore anything outside of the main story.

I made an entire post about it here, but I'll give you the short version:

Additionally, there was a node in the previous season of invasions mode that involved another fight with Bi-Han, titled "second best". Second best at what? We know that in the old timeline, Bi-Han was the Lin Kuei's best assassin. Therefore, this could have only been referring to the new era's Bi-Han, again confirming that their father had a favorite son, Kuai Liang, not Bi-Han.

Believe it or not, this is a form of emotional abuse.

Y'all (thirsty fandom bitches) are so obsessed with your villain faves being victims of parental abuse, even when canon doesn't imply that or literally says otherwise. I've seen it in the Scream fandom, now it's in the MK fandom, too.

Still not convinced? How about we change perspectives from my favorite character to my least favorite one then? Everyone who's been following this blog knows I can't stand Kuai Liang, but I even believe him to be a victim of abuse at his own father's hand, albeit in a different way than Bi-Han.

Nitara: Had you ever known hunger, you wouldn't judge us. Scorpion: I have, and I will.

So, what does this intro tell us?

Kuai Liang has known hunger, so there must have been a period in his life where he has been starving, but why? Poverty seems highly unlikely. The Lin Kuei seem well organized and in his tower ending, Bi-Han talks about how many of their resources were spent on the cyber initiative, so I doubt the Lin Kuei were ever poor or he wouldn't have been able to afford all that technology at all. The brothers also come across as quite arrogant. Growing up poor would have probably made them more humble.

So, why was Kuai Liang starving? Would loving parents let their children starve? Was it perhaps part of their training or a way to punish them for disobedience? And if so, why does Kuai Liang still think and speak so highly of his father? Stockholm syndrome maybe.

And let's say it wasn't the grandmaster's fault that they were starving, then wouldn't it make Bi-Han's ambition to give the clan more wealth and power noble instead of selfish? It would mean no more starving for any of the Lin Kuei in the future.

Regardless of your takeaway from this, the end result remains the same: Bi-Han is not evil.

Bi-Han has always been an asshole. He's power-hungry and he is a bad person. Him murdering his father (whom his brothers haven't implied anything bad about) is no surprise, and trying to make up completely non-canon things to justify it because you can't handle liking a fictional villain is moronic.

Bi-Han has always been an asshole? Always as in previous timelines? Because by that logic, his father has always been an asshole too. See how you're contradicting yourself here? Secondly, Bi-Han is not a bad person. That's straight up wrong.

Ashrah said he's redeemable.

Kuai Liang said he and Bi-Han were once close.

Bi-Han shows genuine regret over Sindel's death.

Tomas, one of the nicest characters in the game, used to look up to Bi-Han.

Kitana's announcer voice when selecting Bi-Han: "You were a decent person once."

He's flawed, not evil.

The only person making up completely non-canon things is you.

Oh, and for the record, I'm a huge fan of Homelander and there's no saving grace to that man. I don't care though, I love villains.

Here's the punchline though, Bi-Han isn't a villain, he's an anti-hero/anti-villain type of character. Do some research.

It's Bi-Han. Bi-Han would sell his little brother to Shang Tsung for a single corn chip! (And I don't mean Tomas; he'd give away Tomas for free.)

Bi-Han literally refused to deliver Kuai Liang to Kronika in MK11 as Noob when Geras told him to.

Geras: Bring your brother to Kronika. Noob Saibot: The dead are my clan. Geras: Do you serve or do you not?

Bi-Han doesn't wish harm upon either of his brothers in MK1 either, he tells them multiple times to surrender and join him. Just watch their intros, it's all there. He even admitted that he wanted Kuai Liang to rule by his side. In his intros with Shang Tsung, he also mentions that he regrets ever trusting him.

The whole original post is a joke. Implying that people who are upset over mischaracterization and bad writing must be thirsting over a character is just ridiculous.

How wrong do you want to be?

OP: yes.

[twottie-m8]

@joukaiweek 2024 Day 4 || Flight

New au because I'm sick and twisted and can't stop making them fall in love again and again

Will I dabble in this au after ship week? Highly unlikely, HOWEVER, it will lurk in my brain to play with like Barbie dolls. Sorry, you guys don't have tickets to my mental movie theater :(

Hence, I welcome yall to play around with it yourselves if you so wish! Feel free to brain dump on this post or in my ask box (whichever you feel more comfortable with) as I'd be happy to hear your takes on it ^u^)/

Here's what I've got for any crumbs of lore:

Uhhh I guess if I had to put a label on it I'd call it some kinda science vs mythos au ????

Basically, Dr. Kaiba (cause he's a scientist with a doctorate, smart boy) works at a highly classified facility (think like SCP) and finds himself assigned to a relatively new and infamous subject (it's Wheeler). The subject is tied to all kinds of rumors, which gained it quite a scary reputation, much to Kaiba's dismay. Unexpectedly, when Kaiba turns up to the job, he finds that the subject is nothing like the rumors. It even calls itself by a name: Joey.

The general idea would be a sort of freedom vs captivity struggle. Kaiba and Joey would have very conflicting perspectives, Joey feeling as though he's just here temporarily to help out and learn about the world (loosely calling himself a diplomat, albeit his trip is not official) meanwhile Kaiba fully acknowledges him as a lab subject to study that has no means of escape.

I also like the idea of Joey falling first, but Kaiba falling harder :3c

[angstigone]

WARNINGS: nsfw (18+ pls minors/ageless blogs don't interact), threesome (ffm), oral sex (female receiving), mention of p in v and face-sitting, enemies-to-lovers, makima is a warning in itself, she/her - afab character.

you and hayakawa were the best in your field.

and yet, you didn't seem to get along.

there was a sharp edge of competition whenever it came to the two of you, whether it was a simple task such as a few bureacratic matters or hunting devils as always. sharp words and haughty gazes flew and inevitably you got each other in trouble. and in makima's office.

«his squad wasn't supposed to be there» you screeched, arms crossed over your chest and your back to the man who came forward albeit he had pretended to be immovable when you had moved inside of the office.

«if my squad hadn't been there, your own would be gone by now» he retorted, a sharp smile was the sole thing left of the charming man aki hayakawa tended to be when he wasn't faced with the bane of his existance, you.

«oh that I highly doubt it!».

«well, next time I'll definitely leave you to handle fucking death itself all al...».

«enough».

makima's voice didn't raise of a single octave and yet, that was what made it further terrifying, as both yoiu and aki were quick to turn your head low in similar contrite looks.

«I did receive the reports on the mission and I have already been informed about the situation».

it felt always like an axe was above your head, when makima was dealing your own future.

«the mission had been assigned to your colleague's squad, hayakawa» you internally goaded at the unspoken siding of the woman on your side, albeit you were promptly shot down as well «... the fact that they weren't ready... well, that's a problem I'll take up personally, although there's a bigger one I'd like to discuss with the two of you».

both you and aki gawked at the comment, as you moved closer without realizing while makima adjusted herself in her chair, albeit she wasn't the one underneath the spotlight fo discomfort and judgement.

«you just can't seem to get along».

in any other line of work, such a behavior would be promptly ignored; as much as you and aki clashed, it didn't impact your workplace aside a tense situation between the two of you.

it certainly distracted and caused ruckus during missions but as long as you were kept apart - like troublesome dogs - you'd do just fine.

and yet, it wasn't enough for miss makima.

«they are intolerable and fucking reckless» aki spat out as if makima had asked him for a justification of his hatred towards you while you widened your eyes, in offense.

«and he has a stuck shoved right up his ...».

«children» makima mocked, barely raising her tone of an octave but it was enough to have both you and aki lower your head in obvious shame and contritement «... it's a pity. truly, as you are both two wonderful devil hunters».

praise had you both perk up, almost waggling your metaphorical tail.

«... and a good thing that I have a solution for this».

and that's how you ended up beneath miss makima's desk, her pants lowered on the ground and her panties pushed to the side, while you fought over who got to lick her warm core, bumping noses and inevitably lips that bumped into a messy wet kiss, till makima's own finger - anchored in your hair - pulled you apart with a sickening smile of form.

«you can get along, can't you» she cooed like one would with a wounded dog as you both looked up; unlike her, you were both naked adding to the dynamic in place and sharing a good chunk of humiliation although it hadn't gone unnoticed to makima how you looked up at each other's body.

she was glad she hadn't been wrong: you were both frustrated and the thought of taking your frustration out onto each other felt as relieving as the act of worshipping a common idol.

maybe, if you both behaved, she'd have had hayakawa fuck you from behind as you so subtly hinted, grinding against the toes of her shoe. or she'd have had you sit on hayakawa's face, as you stole look at the way he dug his tongue in makima's own slit each time it'd be his turn.

the important thing was that you behaved.

but she had a long line of expertise and a lot of time to train dogs on her side.

«remember, little ones: sharing is caring».

[yannights]

A Song from the Depth

Pairing: Yandere Wriothesley x reader

Part 1 Part 2

A/n: I'm very sorry this took long I had lot to do but I finally finished it and tried improving it from the first one

Warning: possessive and obsessive behaviour, prolonged imprisonment, language, threats, manhandling.

Awakening, your head echoed with a rhythmic ache, muscles weighed down by fatigue. The darkness cradling you held a small radiance, enough to unveil the room in which you found yourself lying. The bedroom... Or rather...his bedroom. "After a brief interlude of regaining your composure, you tried to move your limbs to sit up, however, your hands wouldn't budge. You tried again, but your movement was restricted, something prevented them from leaving your back and created the small sound of rattling metal. You tried to wiggle around to see what was going on, but you put the pieces together and everything made more sense. Those fucking handcuffs, oh you wished you could shove them up his...

A sound from beyond the door jolted you back to the present, prompting your body to instinctively freeze, avoiding any movement that might betray your presence with even the faintest noise. You could hear echoes similar to those of footsteps, and only you and the other inmates could recognize the song of steel boots hitting the metal floor. It was Wriothesley. Could you not enjoy a moment of peace without his presence breathing down your neck, albeit an explanation for the situation would be useful? Because no matter how hard you tried, you could not recall the reasoning for the position you currently found yourself in, it was all just a blur. The last thing you did remember was sitting on the bed in the dark, and you believed he was in front of you, however attempting to delve deeper into memories only plunged you into an abyss of emptiness. Your thoughts went silent once the echoes came to a grounding halt and the sound of rattling metal could be heard from outside. The ominous click of the door reverberated through the stillness, sending a shiver down your spine as your heartbeat quickened to an erratic rhythm. Paralyzed by fear, the thought of confronting him now seemed an insurmountable terror. The chilling realization that your very presence in this situation signaled a profound and irreversible error, a message that you had fucked up badly somehow. You quickly positioned yourself lying on the bed and closed your eyes as if you were still asleep, you thought that maybe he would leave you alone and then this would give you more time to grapple with the situation, maybe if you were quick enough you can find something to defend yourself. While the scenario was highly unlikely, near impossible, you still wanted to take any chance to avoid what was coming. You heard a squealing sound indicating that the door was opening. Cold sweat accumulated but you tried to keep your composure, slowing down your shaky breath, and dared not to open your eyes as a glimmer of light invaded the room. Heavy footsteps connected with the floor followed by deep huffs, the sound of metal could be heard from his suit as he walked closer. From the noises you heard, you believed that he had taken off his coat, but what caught you off guard was the sudden weight added on the bed's side, the mattress creaked, and you were forced to slightly tilt towards where he was sitting. Despite the sudden stress, you still managed to keep the act up and stay calm. You heard a low sigh, which sounded like he was exhausted, which was not uncommon knowing that he worked a lot to administer the fortress of Meropide. A couple of dreadful moments passed by in the dark, Wriothesley did not budge much to your displeasure, pretending to sleep with your captor next to you was extremely hard, but you told yourself that if you could keep this just a bit longer maybe he'd leave, you knew you could not keep this up forever, but right now, you just wanted to be alone and not have to endure what he wanted to do to you.

"I know you're awake sweetheart.."

Your eyes widened at his words. He knew, of course, he knew, what were you thinking, of course that creep would know that you were faking it. You turned your head to look at him, and you were met by a tired smirk plastered on his face facing you, looking down at you.

" If you truly want to fool me, you'll have to take deeper and longer breaths, I could hear the stress and fear every time you exhaled, which shouldn't be the case, right?"

Was he mocking you? Did he still not understand why you were afraid. You tried to protest but the words that came out were muffled and were far from understandable. You stopped in confusion and now noticed that you had a cloth strapped around your mouth, playing the role of a gag, stopping you from properly talking. You understood that no matter how hard you tried, he wouldn't listen to you because he wouldn't understand, which was intentional on his part. All you could do now was listen to him, and await judgment.

" Well, now that you are awake, there is no point in keeping you waiting, since you're finally ready to listen, let me explain what's in store"

Your heart raced, like a sprinting heartbeat, unsure of the unfolding scene. Questions lingered, but you were unable to ask. You wore a confused expression to try and give him a hint of your current disorientation state.

" I was deeply unimpressed with your behavior yesterday, gave quite the scare too. And here I thought we were...."

He stopped in his tracks as he took a proper look at your face, noticing your more evidently confused face. It did not take him long to put the pieces together.

"You do know what happened yesterday, right? He asked

You glared at him, your eyes conveying a gentle disagreement as you shook your head in response. He gave a low chuckle to your answer.

"Oh? well then..."

He placed an arm beside your head as support and leaned closer to you. You closed your eyes and let out a small squeal, thinking he was going to kiss you, but you were stunned not only by the proximity beside your ear but also by the chilling breath that left you shivering as if a cold breeze had swept through the moment.

"...Allow me to refresh your memory, darling."

The next words that came out of his mouth awakened your nearly forgotten memories, which made you witness the scenes play out.

----------------------------------------------------------

" Fuck you"

The twirling stopped and the world went silent.

A few excruciating moments passed by of you two staring into each other's eyes, you could feel the icy gaze of his cold, blue eyes. A small smile formed on his face as he slightly looked down, which was far from a good sign.

" I have to admit that I have always admired your stubbornness." He said, "Back on the surface, when I first saw you, I remember seeing you at a cafe, you were fighting with a worker on paying for the cup of tea you had purchased after they offered it for free as a thank-you for your help in cleaning up their mess..."

The words 'back on the surface' stirred a blend of sadness and nostalgia within you, knowing very well why you were no longer up there. Despite this feeling, you also felt very confused as to why he was telling you this, one minute ago he was mad at you for misbehaving. This situation heightened your discomfort; you wished for his actions to be more predictable than this. However, you internally admitted that it was a rare occasion to see him frustrated. Typically, when disobeyed or screamed at, he would respond with a smile and a casual shrug it off. However, this sudden change of attitude was a direct indication that he was growing tired of your behaviour. Despite his increased recognizability now, you interpreted it more as a warning to cease, or the next response might not be as forgiving. This realization, however, didn't alter the inevitable consequences of insulting him on this late evening.

"However, he continued. It's not going to help either of us. I am sorry, but it's time for me to take action on this matter. I was nice once, twice, you can still consider me nice now."

He advanced, bringing the handcuffs along with him, and extended his arm to snatch yours. You took a step back but ended up hitting the office door behind you, you were completely trapped. However, as he was ready to grab hold of you, both of your movements stopped as a familiar voice came from outside, followed by three loud knocks.

"Your Grace, are you alright?"

You stared into each other's eyes once more until you realised, a person... yes PERSON! You quickly turned around, ready to scream for help, however a large hand enveloped your mouth, muffling your screams as you tried to beg for help. You struggled against his grasp, disbelief, and anger fueling your resistance. His grip tightened, crushing any hope of escape, and you felt the weight pressing down on you.

"Give me one moment Wolsey," Wriothesley said loudly.

No wonder the voice sounded familiar, it was Wolsey, the person in charge of the fortress's cafeteria. When you first arrived in the fortress, you weren't immediately snatched away by Wriothesley, you had spent two days as a normal inmate and had in total of 4 meals from the cafeteria where you first met Wolsey. From what you remembered, his food could be as delicious as the ones served in 5-star restaurants to a meal out of a trash bag.

You tried to fight your captor's strong grip, but that proved to fail miserably. However, you managed to bite hard on his hand, causing him to falter his hand in pain and a bit of blood spilled. You were once more prepared to scream until you heard a small growl beside your ear and a sharp pain landed on your head causing your vision to blur and slowly fade away into darkness...."

----------------------------------------------------------

" So after that I told Wolsey that your banging on the door was instead me fixing a screw with my bare hands, we spoke about the food supply that was supposed to arrive today but didn't, so I had to deal with that and I don't know about you but I am exhausted."

As he delivered those lines, he pushed himself back up to get a proper look at your face and smirked when he saw your expression. Now, with the context in mind, you observed the small bandage on his hand from where you had bitten him, confirming the truth in his words. You feared what he was going to do, and you asked yourself many questions, was this the punishment? Has it not started? What is going to happen? In your panicked state, your breath started to quicken and become louder.

" So here is what is going to happen. Since you were acting like a child, I might as well treat you like one. In the upcoming days and more depending on your state, you are stripped of the privileges you had. You decided to insult me call me a monster as well as bite me, you will not need that mouth anymore. You decided to run and nearly let others know our little secret, then you will remain here, where I can be sure you are exactly where you should be. On the bright side, you will finally be sleeping on a bed and not the floor."

Your fear transformed into pure rage. You clamped down on the gag with even more force, your eyes narrowing with intensity, and your fists clenched tightly as you channeled your furry.

"What's with that expression? If you hadn't acted like that, you wouldn't be like this. I can't stand seeing you putting yourself in danger, which is why I'm here. I know you might not appreciate it, but I need you to realize that everything I do is because I love you. Your recklessness is jeopardizing that, unfortunately. It's time for you to move on, and perhaps if you're willing to move forward, I'll grant you a glimpse of sunlight."

Despite only catching half of the speech due to irritation, the mention of sunlight sparked sudden excitement within you. The thought of seeing the sun again made you feel as if a heavy curtain of darkness was slowly being lifted, revealing a world bathed in radiants, unlike the profound chasm of solitude you found yourself.

" Well then, it's time to rest." He said. Wriothesley slapped his hands onto his thighs as support to get up and started to undress. You looked away, thinking about his words. If you wanted to be smart, you would have to play his game and hope to see the sunlight. While the thought of being nice and being the perfect little girlfriend for him made you internally sick, you knew that escaping to the surface was going to be hard on your own. The sound of his trousers hitting the floor snapped you back to reality. He was now only wearing a pair of boxers, exposing the rest of his body with black bandages and scars. He moved to the other side of the bed to settle in with you. You tried to move away but a large hand grabbed your shoulder for you to stay put, while he played down beside you and covered himself up. He slowly used his arms to envelop you in a firm embrace. Your skin touching made you cringe and uncomfortable, but remembering the thought of sunlight instantly made you stop. This was going to be a long procedure, you knew you said you were never going to submit to him, but it was your only chance to get what you wanted, and you needed a strategy to get you out. Patience was all you needed.

"Oh and by the way, he whispered. If you ever do that again, consider the next punishment as less forgiving as this one."

The words that came out were like a haunting melody, stirring within you a primal urge to scream along to his twisted song.

[ozthedm]

Vampire Ascendant Ramblings!

I love Baldur’s Gate 3. I love the vampire genre. I am particularly fascinated with the concept of the Vampire Ascendant for a number of reasons that mainly boil down to “what does it mean to be the Vampire Ascendant and what is the true cost of this power?”

This post is essentially a collection of my observations, thoughts, and headcanons regarding the ascension ritual. Think of this as fanfic inspiration material. Get ready folks, because we’re about to dip a toe into 5e lore and get existential.

What does the Rite of Profane Ascension actually do?

Raphael explains the ritual as thus:

“If he completes the rite, he will become a new kind of being - the Vampire Ascendant. All the strengths of his vampiric form will be amplified, and alongside them he will enjoy the luxuries of the living. The arousals and appetites of man will return to him, and unlike Astarion, he will have no need of a parasite to protect him from the sun. But the ritual has a price, as all worthwhile things do. Lord Cazador will need to sacrifice a number of souls including all of his vampiric spawn if he is to ascend… Your soul will set off a very wave of death, bringing Cazador his twisted life.” 

TLDR: If Cazador offers up the souls of 7000 vampire spawn, then maybe he’ll feel less like shit.

Other specific perks include:

The hunger for blood that plagues all vampires will no longer affect him.

His heart will beat again (Could he even be considered undead at that point?)

He still gets to remain immortal in the sense that he will never age

He can choose to extend his protection from the sun to his spawn, but this protection can be revoked

He can be reflected in mirrors.

There are some details that remain unclear, so here’s where we step into headcanon territory:

Running water will no longer harm him

A normal wooden stake won’t be enough to paralyze him. You’d be better off with a magical weapon

Although he will still need an invitation to enter homes, His enhanced vampiric charm practically makes it a nonissue

And now a couple of notes on Mephistopheles and the contract itself:

“Devils bargain with mortals to upend the divine order. They stake claims on souls that would otherwise go to the gods or be cast adrift somewhere other than the Nine Hells. If you are already a creature of Law and Evil devoted to no other entity, your damned spirit is of meager value.”

  - Mordenkainen’s Tome of Foes

Mephistopheles is an arcane innovator. His realm, Cania, is essentially a giant laboratory where he conducts extensive experiments. 

When it comes to souls, Mephistopheles prefers quality over quantity. He mostly acquires the souls of highly accomplished wizards and sages to help him with his research. To demand the souls of 7000 vampire spawn seems uncharacteristically beneath him (especially for the power he’s offering) 

My thinking is that Mephistopheles is working on something that specifically requires vampiric energy and lots of it. The 7000 spawns are nothing more than fodder.

A devil’s deal never ends well. This is repeatedly stated throughout the game. Considering what we know of Mephistopheles and how little Cazador cares for his spawn, this whole contract sounds far too good to be true. So what’s the catch?

A few possible ideas as to the downsides:

Mephistopheles is always watching. After all, this is a completely new kind of being that warrants study. 

The Ascendant’s hunger for blood is replaced with a different hunger. A hunger that is indescribable and insatiable. He will always yearn for more. More power, more control, more anything. He may even return to Mephistopheles in an attempt to fill the void. 

The Ascendant’s own soul is included in the price, albeit differently. Where the other souls were simply consumed by the ritual, his will serve another purpose. (Not gonna lie, this one sent me on a whole existential journey trying to figure out what is means to have/lack a soul)

I might post more thoughts later, but this is enough for now

[expectopatronum18]

Why do people get so offended with fics that hv lily copying from Snape in potions instead of having the innate ability to do it herself?(hear me out)

Obvs, its annoying when its used to show lily as satan reincarnate against poor uwu sev, but imo there's nothing inherently wrong with the idea itself. Because we get absolutely no evidence from the source material attributing to her abilities apart from Slughorn's word. For example, we get evidence of james being skilled at transfiguration because he literally turned into an animagus at 15 (smthng Mcgonagall needed Dumbledore's help for) and even helped a fellow student do the same (albeit with Sirius). Ollivander also says in book 1 that his wand was good for transfiguration (actually, he also says that lily's wand was great for charms, but this is either forgotten or massively slept on by both the fandom and the source material itself). We get nothing of this sort about lily's supposed prowess in potions. In fact, Slughorn keeps saying that Harry's inherited his mother's abilities literally every single time he follows the Prince's instructions, which honestly makes me see this as the more plausible option.

Now obvs, there is the possibility that snape could have taken lily's work, but imo this is highly unlikely as we do hv evidence of him being good at the subject (brewing wolfsbane, becoming the potions professor only a few yrs after graduating, theatrics on the subject in his very first class with 11 y/os, etc. Also I don't think someone who names himself 'the halfblood prince' would be very ok with just copying from someone, snape is too proud for that).

This isn't canon ofc. They could have helped each other, had their own individual abilities, or whatever, but i just don't see why this possibility should be frowned upon so much. Maybe he was just helping her as a friend. Or maybe she was profiting off of him ( imo that would be an improvement to the perfect godlike figure we get in canon, and even so she wouldn't be half as flawed as the others in tht generation). Even if she did, it wouldn't mean she's stupid or incompetent overall, she was probably just bad at one subject and got help for it/ conveniently used the most easily available resource. Who knows, the possibilities are endless.

[cinewhore]

The Duchess of London (2)

Pairing: Thomas “Tommy” Shelby x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: angst, mentions of drinking, drugs, blood, gore, fighting, guns, fluff. 

A/N: Wrote the first part damn near a year ago! Wanted to finally finish it off. Please know that another part is highly unlikely! No beta. Enjoy! Credits to the gif artist. 

Thomas Shelby ends up on your doorstep three months later. 

Technically, it was the door of the Gentlemen’s Club, Adonis, where you helped to manage the talent and had a few stocks invested in. 

If you hadn’t been paying attention, you would’ve missed him entirely. Tommy remained seated in the back of the room near the door, one leg crossed over the other, fingers delicately grasping the rim of a glass. It was a talent of his, being able to blend into a room seamlessly while still maintaining a sense of distinctiveness. You couldn’t lie, the thought of seeing him again taunted you day after day. Thinking about his plump lips on yours, hands pressing against your neck- 

A throat clears. “I believe it’s your turn, Duchess.” 

You blink a few times, returning to the present. Sir Donald Chesnut fixes you with a stare, pool stick tapping the floor impatiently. 

Giving him your best innocent smile, you nod and saunter around the table. There were two of his stripes left compared to your four solids. The men who gathered to “watch” all gawked as you bent over the velvet lined table, dress straining against your backside. You’re sure to milk their attention for all its worth, a teeny frown sprawling across your face as you stand back up. 

“Must I repeat the rules of the game for you, miss? See those colored balls? You have to hit them into the holes. Do you understand?” Donald taunts, voice barely masking his mockery. 

You smile and shrug. “Gee, I just can’t seem to decide which one to hit, they’re all so pretty!” 

A few in the audience chuckle at the perceived naivete. Thomas takes a swig of his drink, watching your hands carefully. 

“Let me assist you then.” 

Donald pushes up against you, hands helping to position yours correctly. Upon steading them, you attempt to hit one of your balls but fail to do so. You jerk back into him as you laugh, hands fanning at your cleavage.

“I’m not even sure how I got the other balls in, must be a lady’s luck.” you comment. 

“Sure.” Donald nods, already gearing up for his next shot. He sinks his two remaining balls with ease but misses the eight ball by a hair. 

“Oh! You almost had it. Maybe I can catch up.” 

“Good luck.” Donald tuts, hands grazing your ass as he passes behind you. 

The act drops immediately and you get to work cleaning up the table. The balls clinking against each other before they sink into the pockets fills you with such pleasure you fight hard to maintain your poker face. 

The eight ball lays just a few inches away from the right corner pocket, albeit at an odd angle. If you weren’t careful, it was an easy shot to miss and you didn’t want to give this fucker a chance to win. That didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun with your prey. 

“Are you gonna call it?” Donald asks. 

“Eight ball, middle right pocket. 

Donald huffs out something that sounded like a mix between a snort and a sigh. “No fuckin’ way. You can’t make that!” 

You don’t take your eyes off of him as you station yourself off center to the ball, cocking the pool stick until the weight of the wood feels comfortable in your hands. Sucking in a small breath, you let the stick slip through your fingers as you exhale. You could feel everyone else in the room hold their own collective breath as the ball pings around the table, making haphazard patterns until it slowly nears the pocket. 

The eight ball all but comes to a complete stop before it finally drops into the pocket, the white ball close behind. You refuse to move, afraid that any sudden shift could cause the other ball to fall in behind it.

The ball edges you as it nears the pocket but you release a sigh of relief as it comes to a halt. You don't dare celebrate openly, just smile and wink at Donald, who was turning more red by the minute. Murmurs fly and papers shuffle as the men protest about their lost money.

Thomas finally approaches you as the others file out of the room, for sure in search of ways to better their bruised egos. 

You don’t pay him any mind as you rack the balls up. 

“You look like a professional.” 

“You can too. Would you like to learn how to play?” 

Tommy shakes his head. “No, I don’t think I can keep steady hands.” 

You hum in response, eyes shifting up to meet his. “That’s unfortunate.” 

He is quiet as he comes to stand in front of you, hands reaching up to brush against your cheek. “Is there someplace we can talk?” 

You pour Tommy another glass of whiskey before settling on the plush cushions next to him. The office space you acquired wasn’t as glamorous as you’d hoped it’d be but it provided a sense of solace where you could conduct business without hosting unwanted people in your home.

“So, is this a visit for pleasure or business? Perhaps both?” 

Tommy knocks back his drink, throat bobbing as the cool liquor coats his mouth. “Marry me.” 

You sputter out a laugh, shaking your head. “Pardon me?” 

“I need you to marry me.” 

“No,” you hold out a hand to stop him as you notice that he’s reaching into his coat pocket. “Have you gone fucking mad?” 

“I need to form an alliance with the Elephants and this is the best way in.” 

He fixes you with that stare and for a moment you’re sucked into his abyss, thinking about the possibility of becoming Mrs. Thomas Shelby but as quickly as the thought comes, it fades. This wasn’t your fight and you found it hardly fair that you were being used as some sort of pawn. You were familiar with his antics and knew that anyone being used by the Shelby clan typically resulted in death. As it so happens, you were pretty fond of your life at the moment. 

You stand up from your seat abruptly, pacing back and forth. “I can’t marry you, Tommy.” 

“I know it’s not an ideal proposal but you’ll have full control over the wedding details-” 

Stopping mid pace, you turn to face your childhood friend. “What, did the war fuck with your hearing? I said I won’t marry you.” 

Tommy drops his head, reaching back inside his pockets in search of a cigarette. He gets up to lurk near you, admiring the sour look on your face. “Is this how Marcus turned you down, eh?” 

You swallow thickly, resisting to meet his gaze. Of course he knew about Marcus, he knew about everything and then some. The all knowing Shelby’s with their endless amount of dirt, ready to throw it on anyone who stood in their way. 

“I don’t know to whom you are referring.” you lie, terribly so. Tommy could hear the pained yearning in your voice. 

“Marcus Toussaint, old money from the Toussaints of France. Made their fortune from coal. He’s the youngest of four brothers, the only eligible bachelor left. You two met in Egypt, he was financing an archeological dig and you were there on holiday. Nights spent filled with mutual lust and passion, I assume. He buys you an estate in the Mediterranean, where you spend the majority of the summer.” 

Your eyes slip close at the mention of Egypt, a time where you felt you could truly be yourself and not be on guard all the time. Marcus was delicate, thoughtful. He never questioned you about your past and was very encouraging about you wanting to pursue artistic hobbies. He was the one who taught you how to play pool. 

“Unfortunately, your summer was cut short when he was forced to return home and he decided to take you with him. He wanted to make you a part of the family but they knew all about you and decided that a two dollar whore from the slums of Brimingham who made her living spending long nights in the beds of men she did not know was not good enough for Marcus. You try so hard to fit in with that crowd, prancing around in your fancy gowns with your nose held up so high that you still can’t smell the shit on your shoe you’re tracking into their houses.” 

A rage you had learned to smother was bubbling beneath the brim of your being, a feeling you had never thought would be directed toward Tommy. You knew what he was doing, plunging a knife so deep into your heart and twisting until he got what he wanted out of you. It was all a mistake. You have been used over and over all your life. You were not going to be used by him, even if it cost you your life. 

You lick your lips which have since gone dry, forcing your face to return to stone. “It’s always a delight to see you, Mr. Shelby. Travel safely.” 

With that, you turn on your heels and exit the room in silent fury. A pair of observant eyes watch you from the stairs above, then switch to regard the back of Tommy as he leaves a few minutes after you. 

You normally spent most nights at the club but decided it’s worth it to leave and blow steam off at home, your head a jumbled mess. Everything Tommy said was true but what he didn’t know is that Marcus had told you his family made prior preparations for him to marry the daughter of a tycoon and that he had no say in the matter. You were silly enough to believe him. 

You were so caught up in what had just occurred that you hadn’t noticed you were being followed until a hand clamps over your mouth, a black hood shoved over your head. 

Tommy watches absent-mindedly as the young woman slips back into her dress, dancing leisurely to the music coming out of the bar a few blocks down. The window was cracked and she was thankful, having put up with enough of Tommy’s smoking. He was on his third cigarette since they finished fucking and she was sure by the time she actually left, he would have finished half the pack. 

There’s a knock at the door and the woman stops to look at Thomas expectantly. He doesn’t move an inch but jerks his head near the sound. The woman is cautious as she opens it but cracks the door wider when it’s revealed to be a bellhop. 

“Delivery for 317.” 

The woman grabs the silver covered platter and thanks the boy. She smiles as she brings it over to Thomas. 

“Did you order me something special?” 

“No.” 

His bluntness doesn’t deter her, she simply shrugs and searches the vanity for her earrings. Tommy takes the lid off to uncover a note folded in half. 

The Royale. 8pm. 

The hood is snatched off unceremoniously and suddenly you’re in the storage room of a butcher shop, in a chair with your hands tied behind your back. Some of the girls you used to run with when you were younger surround you, with Bobbi aka Big Red at the center. 

You give your best smile. “Ladies, are we starting a sewing circle? Book club? I hear Agatha’s new mystery is to die for.” 

The first punch comes from Janie on your left. You rock your jaw, hands straining against the rope. “I take it that you didn’t like the novel.” 

The second one is from Georgiana. The bitch. To think you were there for her when she found out her husband was screwing her sister. 

After the fourth punch, this one to your gut, you were beginning to get fed up. 

“Alright, does someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” 

“You’ve gotten too big for your britches, that’s what.” Big Red finally speaks up. She took over operations when the leader you knew, Mary, got locked up. Operations almost went to shit but you had to hand it to her, Bobbi knew how to run a tight ship. She wasn’t as popular with the women and laid down stricter rules. Several of which you had broken. 

“I don’t have time for riddles, Bobbi.” you chide. 

Bobbi snaps her finger and Georgiana brings a chair over so that Bobbi could sit in front of you. “I’ve been watching you for a while now, missy. When Mary put me in charge, I swore I’d keep her seat warm until she got out.” 

You tsk. “Last I checked, you squeezed your fat ass in her chair.” 

That earned you a hard punch. You needed to dial it back if you wanted to keep your face intact. 

“You’ve been fucking one of the Shelby’s.” Janie purrs, popping her gum obnoxiously. 

“Not just any Shelby, Thomas Shelby.” Georgiana tacks on. 

Big Red makes a motion with her fingers and the clucking chickens get quiet, always obedient for their mother hen. “You know fraternizing with a family like theirs is off limits. Do you know what could happen to us if you were caught with him? We struck a decent deal with Sabini and the last thing I need is for you to jeopardize everything we’ve worked for because you wanted to get your cunt licked.” 

You knew that a few girls were messing around with some men who worked for Sabini but you didn’t realize it had gotten so deep. Outside of Thomas and his boys in Birmingham, Sabini had the next biggest family in the area with a huge control over land. It wasn’t like anyone was stealing from them but nothing hurt men more than a broken heart and bruised ego. 

“Well, since you like spreading your legs for dirty men like Thomas, poppet, you’re gonna do us a huge favor and use that pretty little face of yours to sway him into staying another night in London. Get him to this location,” Bobbi stuffs a slip of paper down your bra. “We’ll handle the rest.”

Big Red puts your cheek tenderly before snapping her fingers. Georgiana and Janie descend on you like vultures and the only sound echoing through the room is muffled grunts of you getting your ass kicked. 

Thomas flips out his pocket watch once more. 

8:22pm. 

It was unlike you to be late but he figured it was for good reasons. Women and their unnecessary grooming. Growing up around Ada and practically being raised by Polly got him used to being late for certain functions. The waiter enters again and Tommy is ready to refuse another offer on refilling his glass but stops once he sees that you’re being escorted in. 

You were mesmerizing. Your body was wrapped in red silk, the material caressing your figure in all the right places. White gloves covered your arms up to your elbows and the front of your dress drapes downward in a cowl design, showing a sufficient amount of cleavage to leave the wandering eye wanting more. To complete your ensemble, you wore a tilted hat with a veil to cover the majority of your face.

Thomas is a gentleman as he stands while you enter, only returning to his seat once you sit on your own. 

“You’re late.” 

You cock an eyebrow. “And yet, you’re still here.” 

As if the waiter was eagerly awaiting for you to take your seat, you barely have time to set down your purse before the first course is brought out. It looked decadent but your stomach was still rolling from earlier. You weren’t sure when your appetite would return. 

Thomas doesn’t touch his food either. “So, I take it you’ve changed your mind.” 

You take a long sip of wine, swishing the red liquid around the glass before knocking the rest of it back. “Something like that.” 

The cigarette makes an appearance. He lights it, waiting for you to continue. 

“Look at us. Both came from nothing and here we are. Eating at the finest restaurants, wearing the finest clothes, sitting at tables that otherwise we would’ve been shooed from. And for what? Money?” 

Thommy nods, almost as if you’d ask a rhetorical question. “Yes. Money, power, control. I’m taking care of my family just like you would take care of yours.” 

“I have no family.” you state, voice a whisper. 

“That’s why I’m asking you to be a part of mine.” 

The door to the private room swings open and the waiter appears, yet again. 

“For fucks sake!” Tommy yells at the poor fellow. 

“My apologies, Mr. Shelby but your other guests have arrived.” 

Tommy steals a quick glance at you. “I don’t have any other guests.”

You don’t dare turn around in your seat as the echo of numerous footsteps sound off, trailing from the hallway until they reach the dining area. 

“Well, well. Looks like the gang's all here.” 

The voice sends a chill down your spine. Amelio Sabini. He wasn’t head honcho but far enough up on the food chain for it to mean something. 

Tommy clears his throat and puts out his cigarette. He doesn’t stand. 

“What? No warm greeting for me or my brothers? Alright then.” 

The vultures descend on the table, squeezing in where they could and kicking their feet up. You recognize some of the women on their arms from the club. 

“Amelio. You’re interrupting my dinner.” 

“Really? Cause if I remember correctly, we were invited. I know you didn’t start eating without me, Tommy. That’s bad business.” 

“What’s bad business is discussing it in front of the women. You lot,” he points to the scantily clad girls. “Out.” 

The girls all cling to their men, throwing each other nervous glances. You envied them just a little. To be pretty and clueless. It wouldn’t get them very far though. 

Amelio gives a signal and they suck their teeth, sulking back out into the main part of the restaurant. You attempt to walk out with them but a goon keeps you firmly in your chair. 

“Where are you heading off to, puddin’? You’re the main dish.” 

“I take it you’re acquainted?” Tommy asks but you hear the condescending tone laced in the question. 

“She’s the one that invited us. Knows the Royale is my favorite. Have you tried the raspberry and chocolate souffle?” Amelio gives a chef's kiss. “Eccellente!” 

The men squabble as you mildly disassociate, understanding that this was going to end in one of two ways: you live or you die. And if you did die, Big Red was gonna get what’s coming to her, that’s for damn sure. 

Your small break from reality is abruptly ended when the cold metal of a pistol is shoved into your hands.

Your hands graze the gun, a once familiar object now feeling foreign.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Amelio coos. “Let’s not draw this out any longer, eh? We all know how this ends. I don’t want to draw this out any further. Va bene?” 

You nod your head slowly, steadying your grip on the weapon. You aim the gun directly at Tommy, unblinking. “Sorry it had to happen this way.” 

Tommy gives a half shrug. “Likewise.” 

You’re quick to pull the trigger and watch as the bullet whizzes by Tommy’s head and glides straight into the neck of the waiter. The platter in his hands falls, the Beretta masked as the “souffle” tumbling to the ground. 

And just like that, the room cascades into a full out battle. Tommy wastes no time in grabbing his own gun and you throw yourself into the heat of action, taking out two more of Amelio’s men before you get clipped in the left arm. You throw yourself down on the ground in search of cover. 

Arthur and the other Blinders crowd in from the kitchen, helping Tommy to clear out the room. Finn is careful as he drags you towards the back door, where a car is waiting. 

“We can’t just leave them there!” you scream through the searing pain. 

“They’ll be fine, trust me!”

Before you could argue your point further, the doors to the car get slammed shut and you’re whisked away from the scene. 

Making it back to a small office Tommy owned was nothing short of a miracle. You had never seen or been a part of such a gunfight. However, it wasn’t the shooting that pissed you off. 

“I know this was your idea.” you murmur, wincing as Tommy pours more alcohol in your wound. 

“I told Big Red to persuade you, didn’t know that meant leaving you with a bruised eye.” Tommy says, double checking to make sure he cleaned the graze thoroughly. 

You shake your head. “She’s got it out for me, apparently. You could’ve just asked-” 

“I did ask you. This was reassurance.” 

You pull away from his touch, a disapproving look etched into your face. “It’s like you don’t even trust me! We’re cut from the same cloth, remember?” 

Tommy puts away the whiskey, reaching around you to grab at the gauze. He wraps it around your arm tenderly. Satisfied with his work, he takes a pack of smokes out of his pocket, tucking one between his lips. 

He saddles up to where you’re perched on his desk, spreading your legs to stand between them.

“I never doubted you once. There were things that needed to be in place and I wanted to make sure it happened.” 

The deep pools of his eyes drag you under and once again, you find yourself pulled into his orbit. No matter how hard your gut alerts you to the dangers of falling in love with Thomas Shelby, you ignore the blaring alarms and steel yourself. He wasn’t like the others, happy to parade you around on their arm like some sort of trophy. You had a mind, a working spirit that was hard to break and a reputation to uphold. You didn’t want to be the dainty, seen but not heard wife. 

You wanted to be his equal. 

Plucking the cigarette from his lips, you take a quick puff from it, exhaling slowly. “I should go.” 

“I’ve arranged for John to take you to the hotel. We didn’t have much time to grab clothing from your place but I can have Pol take you shopping tomorrow, if you’d like.” 

“You got me a room?” 

Tommy chuckles slightly at the question, demeanor unwavering as he takes a small metal item from his pocket, flipping it in-between his fingers like you’ve seen him do many times before with a coin. 

“I got us a suite.” 

You stare at the key, understanding that it signified much more than a cozy night in. Accepting this key and going to see him meant that you were tethering yourself to a man you swore was just casual. You weren’t sure if you were ready for that level of commitment. 

He pries your hand open, setting the room key in it before closing it gently. Nearly forgetting how to breathe, your eyes flutter close as Tommy seals the deal with a kiss. 

He runs a lone finger down your cheek, his own lips plump with the sheen of your affections. 

“My proposal still stands.” 

Tommy says nothing else as he exits the office, doors groaning in protest at his departure. You open up your hand again. Would you still remain the Duchess or become a Queen?

[toy-powerhouse]

The Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles turtles have some serious “No Friends” energy: Or the turts lack a support network of allies and friends, so it makes the series feel empty

Maybe one of the biggest failings of Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (out of many other failings) is how the titular characters lack a (non-familial) support network. They don't really have any friends or allies, and what few friends/allies they do have are very underappreciated, underrepresented, and underutilized (Todd Capybara and Señor Hueso) or "upgraded" to the much more valued status of family members (April and Draxum).

Despite possibly being the most attention-seeking turtles ever to be created so far, they never seem to have any desire to receive attention from outside the family unit. They're all so insular despite constantly showboating in a world where largely no one has any issues with them being mutant turtles. For the most part, the whole world, both human and Yōkai, is their oyster, and they’re free to roam around and mingle as they please. Yet they're largely content to remain detached from it all. And, that lack of connection makes the series, and its entire universe feel so empty and so small in scope. This emptiness is made especially obvious when compared to other TMNT adaptations that do give the mutant turtles a stronger and plentiful network of friends/allies or at least have the turtles working towards building such close-knit ties with others outside their family unit. The 2003 series was so chock full of friends/allies, it ended on a big damn wedding attended by all the folks they befriended. Even if RotTMNT continued beyond 1 ½ seasons and a movie (technically, it’s two seasons, but let’s be real, season two is too truncated to count as its own season), it’d be highly unlikely that the turtles of that series would ever amass that many notable friends/allies.

We see some glimmers of interest that the turtles have in being a part of a world outside themselves, but aside from those fleeting instances, their disinterest in anything apart from themselves is palpable and never challenged in any major way. This limits the characters’ experiences, their development as well as the overall narrative. It makes all their wacky adventures or dramatic exploits seem repetitive and hollow in a way better kids’ shows mitigate with a compelling cast of supporting characters (i.e., friends and/or allies for the protagonists).

Instead, what RotTMNT lacks in platonic support it more than makes up for in enemies, albeit mostly underdeveloped enemies. The turtles just sort of gain enemies time and time again (because they’re usually unfunny obnoxious screw-ups), which makes their lack of reoccuring friends/allies even more noticeable. Big Mama, Warren Stone, Hypno-Potamus, Repo Mantis, Meat Sweats, the Purple Dragons, Ghostbear, Baxter Stockboy, Sando Brothers, etc., (Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, more like Everybody Hates the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, lmao). You get the idea; the turtles seem to have a talent for making more enemies than friends/allies.

But, with friends like the turts (correction: turds), who needs enemies?

The biggest middle finger the series shows to the idea of allies is when in the season one finale, “End Game,” the following allies join April and Splinter to rescue the turds as the B-Team: Bullhop, Franken-Foot, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., and Todd Capybara. Only for the quartet to be captured immediately and left for dead because they’re never brought up again in the episode. While each of the so-called "allies" of B-Team aren't given much respect both in- and out- of universe, Bullhop (real name Stanley) may be the least respected. In short, the turds ruined Stanley's life, showed little grace to the poor guy before he got unceremoniously ousted from the series. He got mutated by the Oozesquitos the turds had accidently released from Draxum's lab, the turds let him stay at the lair with them for a bit to make amends but were on the verge of kicking him out because he was annoying to live with (Gee, those sure are a lot of pots calling the kettle black…), only for him to leave anyway of his own volition. He then shows up one more time in "End Game" to get captured by the Foot Clan, and because this was his last appearance, it's probably fair to assume that he died/was killed while the other three managed to escape unscathed. RIP Stanley, I know he must be ballet dancing his heart out somewhere in cartoon heaven.

It's characters like Bullhop combined with other infrequently or one-time occurring allies like Casey (Sr.), Señor Hueso, Marcus Moncrief (aka Jupiter Jim), Sunita, Piebald, Red Fox, and so on that show how little the series wants to commit to giving the titular characters a stable support network built on trust and camaraderie. The closest we get to a true, ride or die ally and friend is Todd (see “Todd Scouts” and “Anatawa Hitorijanai”) and even he barely gets any respect. In “Anatawa Hitorijanai,” he provides them with a haven away from the Shredder when he’s taken over New York, forges them weapons they use to save the day, and he receives no thanks or any real acknowledgment for doing any of it which makes the turtles come off as very ungrateful to their greatest ally and friend. The way in which the series represents friends and allies is, at times, tinged with a dismissive, even mean-spirited undertone that feels like a slap in the face to themes and messages that the franchise often represents.

TMNT is a franchise that’s narrative is built on connection and the desire for misfits to find acceptance. In many adaptations, the turtles pine for meaningful relationships outside themselves and Splinter. And, while this theme doesn’t need to be the focus of every adaptation, its absence in RotTMNT does strip from the characters an extra layer of depth and misses out on an opportunity to make them more relatable to members of the audience, especially those who’ve ever felt alienated.

If RotTMNT wanted to focus more on the familial relationships of the titular characters instead, that would be one thing. However, even the development and depth of those familial relationships are lacking. For instance, Splinter’s neglect of the turtles is never truly confronted along with the impact of Raph’s parentification (the underdeveloped family dynamic is something to be expanded upon for another entry in my lengthy list of grievances with this adaptation).

There was so much potential to explore new relationships for the turtles outside their own little world. The introduction of Yōkai opened new possibilities for the characters with them being able to be among other non-humans (the underdeveloped role of Yōkai and their Hidden City is also a topic for another day). Even the more lenient human world offered a new perspective. But, like all things surrounding Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, it was just more wasted potential.

[tekumaniac311]

My Rider Lore #6

The reason Lean Lemur is rather introverted is pretty simple. Growing up in Rimba was never easy, for a highly social race of people(basically the people of Rimba are extroverted AF. They like to get out, learn stuff and see the galaxy aside from swinging through the jungles all day), he is pretty much the odd one out. it's really just how some people are more or less, some are extroverted, others are not. The reason Lemur is also with Mama most the time is cause unlike his family(who hate him), Mama is the closest he's got to a mother figure.

FixFox, as stated her planet is like a huge city. And growing up in a place where technology reigned supreme, lead to her knack of machines and technology. She had built her first circuit board at 5, at 8 her first engine, at 12 her first thrust booster, at 16 her first hyperdrive(albeit thanks to academy tech). As of now, she is 20 so who knows what she could design next?

AU belongs to @onyxonline

[were-bastard]

Avian Masculinity

Note: When I use male/female in this, I’m talking about two of the many facets of bird gender (as I experience it) since the English language lacks vocabulary that I find sufficient to describe these experiences in their own right.

This is quite long, the rest is under the cut:

I think that the masculine/male side of my gender is really neat, since it’s not fully like the traditional idea of (white, western) human masculinity. Unlike the stereotypical idea of a [male] bird, I (along with the rest of my species) am not sexually dimorphic.

However, having been raised as human- and internalizing both human and highly sexually dimorphic avian ideas of gender- my gender is a bit different than a typical gryphon of my species.

For example, I’ve internalized the male avian need to be boldly coloured, as well as flashy and loud. While from humans I acquired a desire to be somewhat more muted in colour, but still posses a certain volume and “take up space”.

When compared to other [sexually dimorphic] avians, I’m fairly drab- preferring darker, more muted colors, albeit of a moderately “brighter” variety (ie. teal, blues, et cetera)- but compared to a male member of my own species, I’m unreasonably bright and flashy.

Male members of my species are the same as the females in both size and appearance. Interestingly, we do share a need to “project” and sing (moreso trill) with [some] other avian males- a need which the females lack. Both sexes have subtle variations upon brown-ish plumage with slightly darker speckling, barring, and the like (comparable to something like a Great Horned owl or Short-Eared owl) in summertime and generally white plumage with faint markings in the winter.

Due to my other avian influences, however, I identify more strongly with somewhat higher contrast between the body and stomach feathers, as well as brighter coloured tidbits here and there (think the blue-green iridescence of a magpie or Cayuga mallard). I also- in this passably human body- enjoy wearing brightly coloured jewelry (usually of the blue or green variety) because it helps to simulate iridescent accents in my feathers and also assists in sating my need to hoard (gryphon hoarding instincts my beloved beloathed).

Due to being socialized as human and also having absorbed “bird gender”, the way I present my gender is likely to come off (to other members of my species) as strangely gnc- if presenting as [a] gender of another species can be considered gnc (it can)- as well as to humans.

When you combine both human and avian gender ideals, you get a strange sort of gender nonconformity that goes both ways. For instance, I’m a trans-man, but due to the nature of my gender and experiences, I consider myself to be Butch (in the gender way), as well as a same gender pairing bird (despite the fact that I like women & am not one* [& am also aroace]). But as a bird, I would be considered (by my species) to be gender nonconforming in an odd way (species non conformity?), while to other species of bird I would seem unusually “feminine” in colour and behaviour (my species tends to be less vocally excessive, and has more subdued display practices than some other bird species). *[Side note: this is not due to me having been originally assigned “female”, since agab is a social construct and is, quite frankly, ridiculous.]

A fascinating side affect of the way my human learnt gender and avian gender interplay is I retain a strangely cobbled together presentation of femininity. From the human idea of gender, my paternal urges to brood and take care of eggs seem uniquely feminine, as well as my love for jewelry. On the other talon, to birds my “dull” colouration and general lack of fancy feathers seems strangely hen-like (hen as in a female avian). Compared to human ideas of female-ness and femininity, I really enjoy this form of “feminine” gender.

Altogether, my nonhumanity makes my gender weird and it’s pretty cool :]

[aphrodisiac-siren]

Home~ Neteyam x Metkayina!reader

Summary: Leaving behind everything he knew was hard for Neteyam and then adapting to the ways of the new clan was even harder. He'd push himself, overwork and exhaust himself even, to live upto his family's expectations; never really giving his own wants a second thought. That's why Y/N was the prefect companion for him, someone who kept things in his life balanced, who made sure to let him know that what he wanted was just as important, perhaps even more so, than what everyone else wanted of him.

//slow burn, cute friends to lovers arc, smidge of angst//

masterlist, Part 2

Part 1

🫧

It was the sound of something loud flapping amidst the wind, in the skies above that caught her attention before the curious murmurs of the clan began to engulf her. The young na'vi's ears perked up with interest as her curious azure eyes searched the skies from whence the foreign sound emerged.

She watched in pure fascination, as five emperyan-looking ikrans glided above the icy blue water. They soared right above her and by the looks of it, were headed for the beach where already a number of people had gathers to gawk at the creatures foreign to their land.

Just as curious herself, she mounted her ilu and headed toward the still growing crowd. She'd heard about an ikran; a mountain banshee is what they'd call it. It was a native species to the forest, usually rode by the Omatikaya people. It was highly unlikely that five of those intelligent bird-like creatures flew all the way out here of their own accord. There'd have to be riders. Excited to possibly be acquainted with someone from the Omatikaya clan, she urgrd her ilu to pick up pace.

When she broke to the surface of the water, her eyes immediately caught sight of her siblings Tsireya and Aonung. when she'd caught up to them, her younger sister seemed to be scolding their brother and his friend Rotxo about something. Not really bothered to inquire about their banter and antics, her attention then shifted to the group of Na'vi that stuck out from the rest of them- right from their dark blue skin to their thin tails and scrawny limbs.

"Hey" one of the Omatikaya boys greeted her sister that made the younger girl giggle bashfully.

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes at her before looking ahead again to see the other Na'vi boy smirk at the one who'd addressed Tsireya, subtly nudging him.

Y/N continued to stare, albeit rude but she was just as fascinated with the visitors as her sister was, though she was much more composed in comparison; offering only a sweet smile to the older-looking boy instead of turning into a blushing mess like her sister.

Pull yourself together Tsireya.

She was aware that by now her excessive staring had begun to preturb the visitors, judging by how the boy with the undercut averted his gaze and seemed to find the sand under his feet much more interesting. And then there was the boy next to him, who if uncomfortable by the gawking, didn’t really show it on the surface; if anything, his golden eyes stared right back into hers almost like a reticent challenge to see who's back down first.

Y/N was sweet, a little shy at times but boy was she competitive. It could be something as simple and silly as this present staring contest she'd set up and she was not going to be the first one to back down.

Aonung's eyes flickered between the two, not too happy about the other Na'vi brazenly staring at his sister. His ears ears perked up ambulatorily, as did his tail in a menacing way; face twisted into a scowl as he advanced toward the outsider. Despite his intimidating demeanour, the other boy didn’t avert his gaze and Aonung almost lost it, puffing out his chest and balling his fists at his side. His mental debate on if he should just shove the weirdo to the ground or snap at him was interrupted by his father Tonowari, the Olo'eyktan arriving amidst them; soon followed by their mother Ronal, their Tsahik, emerging from the crowd.

Y/N wanted to believe it was the other boy who looked away first at the arrival of her father but it happened so quickly that she was unsure. Maybe they both looked away at the same time.

Of course I didn’t lose, it was a tie.

When she'd snapped out of her daze, she caught on to a few words her parents said like Toruk Makto and Uturu.

There was a long pause, after which her mother began to closely look at the outsiders. She mentioned how their arms and tails were too thin for them to be strong swimmers. She then jerked one of the kids' hand upward for the crowd to see, claiming that they were not true Na'vi, and that they had demon blood.

Y/N saw her brother hiss at them from the corner of her eye. She placed her hand on his chest when she noticed he was about to step closer to them. There were already gasps of horror from the people for that comment her mother made, she did not want her stupid brother creating a whirlpool in the water.

"Uturu has been asked" The Omatikaya woman stated calmly as she stood her ground, patiently waiting for an answer.

It was obvious they had traveled a long way and were in desperate need of refuge, or else why would anyone make such a long and draining journey. There was fatigue written all over them, their shoulders hunched in defeat and though their facial expressions stayed stone cold, their eyes betrayed them, silently pleading.

"Do we have to go?" the youngest in the group asked, voice strained from the journey. Y/N's heart clenched at this and her eyes immediately searched for her mother’s.

They're desperate, she tried to tell mother when she locked gazes, please.

Ronal looked away and toward her husband, silently contemplating on what to do.

Y/N exhaled slowly when she saw her mother give their father a curt nod.

It was announced that Toruk Makto, or Jake Sully, as he'd now been introduced, would stay with them. They would have to learn their ways and Tonowari made it formally known that it would be his own children who would look after the younglings' training. Aonung wasn’t at all happy about it. Tsireya was overjoyed and Y/N well, she really didn’t mind helping out.

"Come" Tsireya chirped at the Sully family with a smile "we will show you our village"

As the crowd slowly dispersed, with the exception of a few who lingered to stare at the forest Na'vi, Y/N along with her siblings went to help the family gather their things.

As if drawn by some strong oceanic current, Y/N walked toward the older boy.

"Hi" she politely said as she watched him unload all his things off his Ikran, most of it just topping to the sand.

"Hey" he grinned at her, watching her admire the winged creature "first time seeing an Ikran?"

"Mhm" Y/N nodded, bending down to pick up a basket "they're not really part of this habitat"

"Ah don't worry" the boy sweetly tried to take the heavy basket from her, not really wanting to burden her with his own belongings. Neteyam, mighty warrior and a complete gentleman "I'm Neteyam, by the way"

"Neteyam" she repeated his name as she took a single step back so that he couldn't take what she was holding out of her hands "You can carry the million other things you’ve got with you, I can manage this."

Neteyam gave her a slight bow, amused grin plastered on his face. Judging by the stare-down they had only minutes ago, he was half expecting her to be a brat toward them.

"My name's Y/N"

Giving one last adoring glance at his Ikran, she tailed after the others who were being led by her sister with Neteyam following her; Aonung and Rotxo at the rear.

It wasn’t too long of a walk from the beach to their designated pod that Ronal had arranged for them. Tuk however, didn’t mind the walk, finding the bouncy mat-like bridges or pathways that connected the other pods in the village quite fascinating in comparison to the soil and grass she was so used to back in the forest.

"This is your new home" Tsireya happily announced, looking around with such pride, you'd think it was her who actually built the place.

"Oh yea this is great" Jake forced a smile, trying to sound just as cheerful as Tsireya. Meanwhile his mate had no filter and responded by just dramatically letting her things drop to the ground.

Y/N bit back an amused smile, a chortle threatening to escape at the woman's reaction. The place was well.. humble, to say the least. But she was sure that the great Toruk Makto and his family had a much more extravagant living space in comparison to this.

Her poor attempt at disguising her chuckle with a cough didn’t work and Neytiri immediately snapped her attention toward her. Her sharp and piercing gaze made Y/N's ears droop down as she shifted her own gaze to the ground.

"Where do I um put this?" she meekly asked her, reffering to the basket in her hand and all Neytiri did was look at her oldest son, silently asking him to help the girl.

"Give me" he smiled.

He smiles a lot, must be the Tsireya of the Sully family, Y/N thought.

"Does my mother scare you?" he asked in a hushed tone. Everyone else was busy putting away things so he took the chance to make conversation.

"She looks intimidating" Y/N honestly answered, casting a sly glance toward his mom just to make sure she wasn’t looking or hearing them "and fierce, I like it"

The boy only hummed in agreement. He couldn’t argue; his mother was the most austere and fierce woman he knew- a walking and breathing epitome of 'if looks could kill'.

"She's also really pretty" Y/N mumbled as she busied herself with helping with putting away the remainder of their things, carelessly sprawled on the floor.

Neteyam prolonged their conversation by pointing out, and indirectly introducing, each of his siblings to her, keeping their conversation short and plain.

Y/N didn’t happen to catch Neytiri's ear twitch upward, a ghost of a smile dancing on her lips at the compliment she'd just heard the Omatikaya girl give her.

___

Y/N spent her morning like how she always did: helping her mother with chopping fruits and some dried meat whilst her mom simultaneously gave her some short lesson on medicine.

Her siblings had headed out early to give the Sully kids some diving lessons. She didn’t have to join them until later in the day to help with their ilu training.

"What do you think of the outsiders?" Ronal asked, striking up a conversation as they continued with their meal prep.

"I don’t think of them as outsiders" Y/N decided to mention first, earning a questioning glance from her mom "they're Na'vi too, just from farther away"

"Your brother thinks differently" the woman sighed, examining each chunk of chopped up fruit and cutting ones that were too big "ah, ma Y/N, I told you I wanted them finely chopped, finely"

"Aonung is just not too fond of the sudden change" she shrugged, making sure to chop the fruit into smaller cubes "not to mention his absolute eagerness to tutor the them"

Ronal chuckled. She remembered the childish fit her son threw the night before, going on and on about how he should be focusing on his skills and not waste time over people who would take ages to learn even the basics. He was adamant to be the best warrior like his father, and his sister Y/N was tough competition. Not to mention his already exsisting training to be the next Olo'eyktan that would indefinitely have to be put on hold because of these Sully nuisances.

"He does not realise that this is also part of his journey to being a good leader, like his father" Ronal hummed, satisfied with how the fruit was cut "good job"

"He's stupid that way, wonder where he gets it from" Y/N smiled, happy that her chopping skills were satisfactory.

"Certainly not from your mother" She chuckled before switching back to her strict demeanour "off you go now. It is improper to be late"

___

When Y/N arrived at the agreed place to meet, everyone was already in the water, all in a cirrle around Aonung.

He clicked his tongue and let out a few short yelps to round up the ilu. Y/N watched from a distance, letting her brother take charge of the lesson. She was competitive yes but she knew when to just take a step back. It was nice to see him slip easily into the role of being the authoritative figure in the group; voice loud, clear and stern as he spoke a little about the aquatic creatures splashing in the water around them. Despite his distaste for the forest Na'vi, he was doing a good job at teaching them and keeping his annoyance to one side.

Once he was done talking, he split them up so that each one could have a tutor. Tsireya went to assit Lo'ak, Rotxo offered to help Kiri and Aonung decided to teach Tuk who he felt was the least unbearable one among the kids. So naturally, Y/N was left with Neteyam.

"First make the bond" she instructed "gently. Then hold on to this, here"

She pointed at the leather binding at the neck of the ilu.

Neteyam took his time, not too eager to rush into things. He carefully mounted the animal, following instructions well.

"Deep breath before you dive in" Y/N began to explain by waving her hands around "make sure you’re leaning forward, chest almost pressed against its back"

Neteyam lowered his torso, bordeline hugging the ilu. It squeaked in response and Y/N giggled.

"Like this?" he nervously asked, lopsided smile on his face. Judging by her reaction, he knew he'd done something wrong.

"N-not so," she placed her hand on his chest, pushing him up ever so slightly until only his stomach was touching the ilu's back "that's better"

"Okay" he nodded, looking to the front. His smile faded and his expression switched to stern and focused.

"Now think dive" she said and Neteyam did just that.

The first few seconds were amazing, almost like riding a direhorse but underwater. And then all of a sudden, he was no longer on the ilu. The creature swam ahead from under him, leaving him in a whirlwind of bubbles.

The older boy swam to the surface, looking at the ilu with a look of betrayal plastered all over his face. In the near distance, she heard her siblings erupt into laughter as well and a very irritated Lo'ak popped his head out the water.

Y/N giggled at this, the scene almost too comical.

Neteyam however, was just flustered from the top of his ears to the tip of his tail. He was so used to being the best at whatever he did that he almost felt stupid in given scenario.

"Let's try that again yea?" Y/N called out, beckoning for him to swim toward her. His ilu had already circled back to the girl "keep your thighs firmly pressed against your ilu's sides so that well.. that doesn’t happen"

The boy only chuchkled sheepishly in response. Granted that by this point, she had classified Neteyam as the sunshine boy of the family, forever smiling, it didn’t take an expert for anyone to tell that in that moment the boy was just forcing a smile to a point where it became painful to look at.

"Its okay" she tried to sound as cheerful as her sister, in hopes to drive away his disappointment "you'll get the hang of it after a few tries"

All he did was grunt as he mouted the ilu, not bothering to say anything further. She didn’t understand why he took his first trial and error to heart. It wasn’t abnormal for anyone fall off during their initial lessons. If anything, she'd find it abnormal if he did do it perfectly on his first try.

Neteyam was adamant. Every time he fell off only angered him more. He had to get this down. Setting an example for his siblings meant he didn’t have time for mishaps. Who would they look up to if he just kept fumbling over and over? What kind of role model would that make him?

He angrily splashed the water after he'd messed up for the twelfth time that day.

"Not bad" Y/N clapped, ignoring his temperament "you were mounted for almost three minutes, new record-"

"Three minutes?" he asked in between pants "no, no that’s not good enough"

"But-"

"Not good enough" Neteyam repeated himself, voice coming out more arrogant than he intended to. He usually had a very calm and collected mind but all of that was going to shit each time he made a mistake "sorry I didn’t mean to-"

"Maybe we should take a break?" the girl offered, sensing his fatigue and irritation "just breathe. You need to have a clear mind when you learn"

"Yea, okay" he sighed, not wanting to be pushy and continue with the lesson. He knew that Y/N might be tired as well, she was out teaching him for hours now. He not-so-gracefully got off the poor ilu, who was also just as tired by this point "sweet Jesus"

Her ears curiously perked up.

"What..?" she asked, tilting her head slightly with confusion.

"It's like this thing by dad says sometimes" he tried to explain, not really knowing how to fully explain the phrase "it's just something you say when you’re surprised or scared o-or tired I guess?.. uh yea"

"Sa-wheat Jee-suz" she repeated, absolutely butchering the pronunciation "what’s that?"

"Oh it’s like this God they have back on earth? It's a star far away" Neteyam told her, amused by her reaction.

"So that’s earth's Ewya" She excitedly said, fascinated by the new piece of information "what else?"

"What else?"

"What else do you know about them?"

"I know their language?"

"Say something"

At that point he felt like she was just poking fun at him. Like prodding at a small animal with a stick in hopes that it might do something that would amuse and entertain you.

"Back to training" he shook his head with a grin, ready to mount his ilu again when she held his wrist to stop him. He looked at her, not expecting her to be looking up at him with her big azure eyes filled with wonder. She was genuinely intrigued and interested to know more about the sky people.

"I'll teach you our ways" she spoke, eyes still wide and pleading "and you must tell me all you know about them"

Neteyam waited for a minute. He waited to see if she would break character and burst into fits of giggles. Who could possibly be so intrigued about the sky people and their ways? But no, she patiently waited for a response, hand still wrapped around his in a gentle hold.

"Deal?" she asked

"Deal" he answered.