#free-floating barrel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

arctrooper69 · 9 months ago

Text

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Chapter 14:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Canon violence

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

The trip back to your small shuttle seemed to take twice as long.

“... yeah the shuttle’s still there…”

The subtle echo of voices and gear drifted across the rocky terrain and you froze. For a moment it disappeared and you’d almost convinced yourself that once again this moon was playing tricks on you.

A haggard, hacking cough sounded from around the corner where piles of slag leaned and stacked over each other creating some sort of natural shelter beside the mouth of yet another cavernous mineshaft.

You dove behind a large boulder. Kriff. Cid had said the planet was uninhabited.

Is someone else after the jewels too?

Cid hadn't mentioned that either. You were going to have a serious talk with her when you got back.

If I even make it back in one piece. You rubbed your aching shoulder. From the way this mission was going, you weren't sure just how intact you'd be.

This place is a death trap. At least I have the jewels. Hard part’s over.

The roving light of a headlamp flickered against the rocks before blinking out.

“Karabast!” came a growling curse, “Those kriffing rocks better be worth as much as you say they are, woman!”

“Relax, Nakan.” a female voice snapped, sounding exasperated. “You’ll get your money.”

Two other voices squabled further away.

“Enj! Rico! Get your asses over here!” the female shouted. She sounded human, or at least humanoid.

Crawling slowly, you peered through the cracks of the boulder, to get a better look.

A human woman paced the ground and a large Nikto crouched a few feet from the edge of a mineshaft beneath the craggy overhang of shale. Nakan, the woman had called him.

The ones she’d called Enj and Rico were Weequay - male and female. The female spat on the ground. “We’re wasting our time out here, Boss. There’s nothing here.”

“There will be!” The human crossed her arms, “You just have to trust me!”

The male Weequay said something that you couldn’t quite hear and she nodded. The Nikto got to his feet and followed the others as they continued to search for a different mine.

The voices faded off into the distance, but you waited a little longer before coming out of hiding.

Dust floated through the air, forcing itself deep into your lungs and you choked. Eyes watering, you instinctively reached, pulling the fabric of your shirt to cover your mouth and nose.

Even the air is getting worse. It burnt your lungs. Almost there.

A brief flash of alarmed confusion was the only warning before you found yourself violently acquainted with the ground once again, head forced into the dirt and arms wrenched painfully behind your back, drawing a pained squeal as air was forced from your lungs.

“Hey, boss! Look what I found!” Scaled hands dragged you to your feet, maintaining the iron grip that trapped your arms painfully behind you.

“Get off, asshole!” You spit dirt from your mouth, throwing your shoulders forward to try and yank yourself free.

A sudden click and your jaw snapped shut. The hot dedlanite barrel of a blaster burned into the skin of your forehead. Muscles stiffened as the woman from before brought the blaster down your face, resting it just below your chin, forcing it up so that she could see your face.

“Just when I thought my luck had run out!” she chuckled, “You look like shit and you know what that tells me?”

You glared.

She continued anyway, “That tells me that you’ve been spelunking around here. You find any shiny rocks?”

Any fear left in your worn out mind hardened to a spiteful anger.

Get your own shiny rocks, bitch. These are mine.

Despite the dryness of the air or how your lips cracked and screamed for relief, you spat. “Kriff off!”

Pain exploded from your cheekbone, radiating down your neck as she whipped the blaster without warning.

She slowly wiped the spit from her cheek. “Fine. We’ll do this your way then.”

She turned to one of the Weequays. “Search her. Take what you want then get rid of her.”

The Nikto merely grunted as you kicked your foot back, struggling to gain some semblance of control as he pulled already screaming shoulders ever tighter, binding your hands behind your back.

Nausea flooded passages already inhabited with the adrenaline fueled struggle. It made you dizzy.

A hand jerked the pouch from your belt, renewing the fight to aching muscles. You threw back your head, connecting with the face of the Weequay who’d stolen the stones from your belt. He cursed, dropping the stones, hands flying instinctively to his broken nose.

You reached desperately for the bag of jewels, fingers just barely brushing the fabric.

If I can’t have them, then you definitely can’t.

Another tremor rattled the ground and you watched with numb satisfaction as the small bag tumbled from the ledge into the abyss below.

The woman slammed your head into the ground once more and your vision went white.

“Go in there and get those damn stones!” she snapped over her shoulder, “I’ll take care of her myself!”

The ground began to rumble. A larger quake this time. Stones and dust were violently tossed into the air.

“Shit, just go! Get out!”

Everything was silent then, so slow that it felt as if you were floating - propelled from the edge not by a boot, but by a gentle wind.

***

The Marauder lay so peaceful after that mission.

The memory came to you suddenly as if you’d slipped into a dream, mind desperately grasping to cushion a cruel reality as you tumbled down into the dark.

Omega and Wrecker were laughing because a stray piece of Mantell Mix had landed directly in Tech’s unruly curls and stayed there unmoving. Tech had moved on into the cockpit, yet still that sticky sweet stayed put. It was only when Hunter could no longer keep the grin from his lips nor the laughter from his eyes, that he’d noticed.

That’s the part that played like a holofilm over and over again. The subtly raised eyebrow at Omega’s joyfully hidden giggles. That spark of laughter in eyes that had been serious for too long. The muscles that rippled along his neck and jaw as he held back laughter that soon broke loose and the way he breathed so easily again - momentarily free from the weight of an ever changing galaxy. He was happy.

Oh, what you would do to give him that once more.

I’m sorry, Hunter.

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

@zoeykallus @ttzamara @nahoney22 @merkitty49 @viva-la-whump @agenteliix @dumpsters-little-matchbook @nekotaetae @ladykatakuri @loverofclones @heyitsaloy @padawancat97 @jambolska-grozdova @flyingkangaroo @melymigo @the-rain-on-kamino @jiabae @my-own-oracle @dragonrider9905 @queenofspades6 @ordinarylokix @jupitersaturnapollo @queencousland101 @vampire-rogue @southernbaguette @staycalmandhugaclone @dalu-grantkylo @dangraccoon @aconstructofamind @sev-on-kamino @sol-the-otter @pb-jellybeans @atomickidsoul @caitnotfound @ghostlyembassy @skellymom @freesia-writes @trixie2023 @jedipoodoo @reader6898 @all-mights-babygirl @arcsimper5 @red-robin-yum08 @wintersnnowie @whore-of-many-hot-men @theeyesofasoldier @griffedeloup @starswhores @totallyunidentified @waytooldforthis78

If you want to be on my taglist, feel free to send me a message! Also, asks are open! Reblogging is very much encouraged and it makes me do a happy dance every time any of my writing gets reblogged 😂❤️

169 notes · View notes

kayawolfhorse · 3 months ago

Text

Day 23 — Following

—☾—

The Sandcastle’s wooden door falls shut behind Grian with a solid thunk that seems to reverberate through the uncut hush. He gives the room a cursory sweep before he sheaths his sword and shucks off his chestplate, wincing as his bloody fingers catch against its leather straps.

“Right, then, let me see your ribs,” Grian tells Scar after his armor is tossed alongside his own.

“Oh, it’s no bother, I can handle it,” Scar says, waving a hand and heading further into the castle.

Grian catches him by the hem of his crimson-soaked shirt. Pausing, Scar turns to meet his eye.

“Let me see it,” Grian repeats. Smiling slightly, he adds, “Besides, are you really going to waste an opportunity to take your shirt off?”

The grin that splits Scar’s face is cheeky, and slightly crooked where one corner of his lip raises higher than the other. His sigh comes in a breath of faux-defeat as he shakes his head and says, “You’ve sold it to me. Where’d you want to do this?”

Grian leads Scar to the kitchen and sits him on the edge of the counter as he sifts around the barrels for supplies. In one he finds bandages; it takes him a few more to locate a potion of healing. He wets a rag in the sink and takes a moment to rinse his hands free of the grime and blood sunk into the marred flesh.

Straightening up, he assesses Scar’s side. The wound isn’t deep—Martyn’s arrow had managed an impressive graze, one sure to sting for a while, but Grian’s fairly confident on the relative safety of all of Scar’s organs.

He hands Scar the potion. “Shouldn’t need more than a sip. I’ll wrap this, alright?”

“Aye, aye.” Scar salutes and uncorks the bottle.

Scar’s tan skin is warm where Grian’s fingertips brush against it. The conversation they find themselves in while Grian dabs against the wound is blissfully stupid, and Grian gives Scar’s shoulder a light whack whenever he starts to laugh hard enough to disrupt his wrapping. After a few passes around Scar’s torso, the bandages are secure.

“Thank you, kind sir,” Scar says brightly. Plucking the roll from Grian’s grasp, he reaches out for him. “Now, your turn.”

“What?” Grian takes a step back and frowns. “I’m fine.”

Scar points. “Your hands.”

“Ah.” The burn has faded to a dull monotone at the back of Grian’s mind, like how one eventually filters out the cacophonous racket of a mob farm. “Haven’t been thinking of those.”

“I’ll think about them for you. Come here.”

Grian obeys, and at Scar’s gesture holds out his right hand, palm up. Scar is gentler than Grian could ever dream of being, and he near-cradles Grian’s hand in his own as he cleans and wraps it. The furnaces’ gentle crackle floats through the comfortable quiet, interrupted only by the occasional rattle or groan beyond the sandstone walls. Something hums in Grian’s chest.

The ordeal repeats for Grian’s other hand; when it’s bandaged, Scar gives it a light squeeze before he releases it.

“Thanks,” Grian says, softly, genuinely. It feels wrong to disrupt the silence with things as superfluous as words.

In a single step forward, Scar’s leaning into Grian’s space and his lips are pressed lightly against Grian’s forehead. Grian’s lungs are suddenly, suspiciously absent of the air he swears was just there, and it feels as though the sun itself has blossomed alight within him, casting rays between every sinew of his being. He wills his arms to remain at his sides.

“Goodnight, G,” Scar says, and his crooked smile is sweet. He heads for bed and Grian’s left standing in the glow of the kitchen alone. The supplies sit discarded along the counter. The furnaces burn low. Grian follows Scar to sleep.

#written yesterday but posted a wee late oh well #3rd life smp #grian #goodtimeswithscar #desert duo #scarian #<- to be interpreted at your own discretion. for ambiguious unlabeled secret third thing relationships the world #my writing #trafficfic #definitelynottober #definitelynottober2024

70 notes · View notes

dhampling · 1 year ago

Text

butter gn!reader, 2.5k

Astarion and his legendary beauty. Old hunting ground turned safe haven. A halo of well-aged tavern dust floats atop his perfect head in the sunlight and you couldn’t be more in love if you tried.

you and the vampire spend a short gloaming sun discussing marriage outside the Elfsong.

word count: 2,538

crossposted on AO3 HERE

read the tags and decide your fate!

He’s softer this evening and the room is fuzzy.

The smell of richly slow-roasted meats & seasonal field greens slapped up high on battered dishes and lathered with fresh salted butter, topped with baby mint, with window-grown rosemary; with truffle salts and crushed peppercorns. Red wine gravy. The open kitchen and the overworked barkeep with sweat glistening at his cheekbone.

Chalices lift from sticky dark tables, sleeves animated in shades of burgundy & emerald moving yellowed, peeling playing cards to chests. Hands joined in prayers of gratitude and glory. Extra chairs for those held close. Laughter; lilting as the bounce of those who whirl around the open floor to the sound of the bards, folding over in some giddy stupor and barreling back to the bar for more.

You nurse a now-warm pint of Balor Ale with eyes closed, calm in empty contemplation as the city smells and sounds wash over you. A late summertide tapestry.

Though people mill about the bar frenetically and the sounds from inside the Elfsong are as raucous as ever; it all knots together to form a sweet, almost melancholy ambience.

Nearby merchants bellow late-day deals on (mildly) heat-foetid produce. Peals of children laughing as they bomb through the cobbles.

Occasionally you’ll flit your lazy eyes open to find him amongst the throngs of people inside.

And in perfect view, he lounges on the back support of an open booth seat Karlach occupies.

Other party members dot similarly around the bar area and the wine flows free as the Chionthar among them. Legs crossed one over the other and cool hands coloured in late amber - one to support, the other to hold the stem of an ‘aged’ Rosymorn Firewine which threatens to spill a little overside as his arm moves in conversation.

From this angle he’s captured beautifully in the gloaming tenday light and from his slightly straightened poise it’s clear he knows that you’re watching for him.

A voyeur.

He’d question your intent, right by your ear, in a sing-song voice so sinfully rich it’d go straight to your head; before chortling in that one silly way he knows never fails to make you smile and capturing you - his darling dearest - in a kiss for the ages.

Astarion and his legendary beauty. Old hunting ground turned safe haven. A halo of well-aged tavern dust floats atop his perfect head in the sunlight and you couldn’t be more in love if you tried.

You see he looks to you after what seems to have been a joke told by one of the group, eyes heavy lidded with joy and the worn creases by his eyes a little deeper by the day. Checking in. You join your friends when you want and are gratefully received on those many occasions, but you revere your time alone. He holds back because he doesn’t want to upset you in the slightest.

Despite reiterating that he is forever welcome to join you in said alone time - and all puns entailing your ‘ alone time ’ whispered in a soft silken purr aside - you feel it in the way he speaks to you.

A fruitfly hums by your ear. You swat it away and look to him once more.

Astarion’s eyes are back on the group.

He listens to stories beyond your earshot and smiles, lolling his pretty head back and dipping to sip from his glass often, the tips of his ears twitching ever so slightly as he does. You clock the sparkling glassware as opposed to the standard tavern-offering pewter chalice and grimace. A heavy bell rings from one of the gilded towers in the near distance.

There’s a cathedral near where you’re from - you remember your visits there as a young thing. The height of the tallest spire seemingly miles above your tiny skull. Ribbed vaulting and lancets. You’d marry him there, when he’d let you, in one of the smaller chapels just off the aged cloister walkway.

The old stone reminiscent of so many who’d loved in all sorts of mangled, patchwork ways before you two were even a thought.

You’d find a way for the sun to forgive him once this was over, so he could stand in the light of a stained rose window and feel faith in something the way those born into religion do.

A reception bursting at the seams with old friends at the Elfsong. You could dance yourselves to the point of a tired stupor with reason enough to do so. A celebration.

Travel across Toril and find a way for him to be able to stomach real food, maybe. Have a cake with marzipan and trifle with rich sherry-soaked sponge for the guests. For him.

His lips show the faintest touch of a wine singe as he looks from Wyll and across to Jaheira, squinting in the sun before standing to - presumably - head to the bar.

You close your eyes again and somewhere in the middle distance, bells continue to ring. A dopey grin as light heeled footsteps approach.

“I think everyone was beginning to wonder if we’d had a tiff.”

Astarion sniffs gently and sits - almost slumped - toward you before leaning in for the kiss.

His lips open lazily to meet yours over and over again, skimming over the back of your teeth with a tannin-stained tongue and all the urgency of a tenday rest. A cold thumb brushes over the apple of your newly freckled cheek.

A carafe of freshly corked wine on the bench before you both, glassware and a plate with warm bread. The butter you’d smelled earlier.

“Could’ve come to me sooner, lover.” You pose with a slow blink, holding his arm still at the wrist to keep his hand to your burning face.

Foreheads meet. The sun beats in the back and the still early evening air is interrupted by the faint buzz of insects and far-off children.

“I know. I do. You just looked so very deep in thought. Our heroic leader.” He jokes, emphasising ‘heroic leader’ in a mock grizzled tone before his head leaves yours and bringing you into his torso with his arm around you.

His stillness feels reverent.

He doesn’t jostle, not a single gesture. You steadily pour two glasses of Firewine from the hefty carafe and sit back into him again.

“I was thinking about you.” You say in earnest while moving to toy mindlessly with the hand draped over your shoulder.

“Hm?”

A flicker - his eyes are on you, a familiar burn, a fire poker. He knows that he’s often the subject of your pondering (if your word is to be believed) and has spent days of his own considering what that could mean.

On nights where his tongue sours with centuries of fermented scorn and his bedroll soaks through with thick, cold sweat; your mind is a fertile meadow and he resides as naught but a simple buxom milkmaid - giving and dense and virile atop dry grassy knolls and by stony running rivers, rutting and riding and suckling and spilling with bare teeth brushing shining cheekbones and dirt smears on thighs. Dimples on cheeks. Eyes of green and silver, blunt teeth.

“You. I was thinking about you.”

Astarion looks into the oncoming twilight. He rests his head to the side on yours, then nestles in a little. A sigh.

From that meadow however, there’s a house with a thatch roof in the far distance; in which he sits by a roaring fireplace in comfortable clothes of his own choice and you, bundling through the door with a basket of fresh produce to stew in hand.

Those lips alone capable of crafting a euphoria akin to a godsly blessing on him.

One bedroom; perhaps two.

Maybe even three.

“How so, my sweet?” He speaks with the familiar measure of a thousand yard stare.

He doesn’t make the voyeur joke you’d seen so vividly in your mind’s eye, nor does he collapse around you with both arms at either of your sides and his chin on your head; burying kisses into your hair and cackling maniacally.

His laundry must’ve dried on the balcony in your party’s quarters during the blazing height of Flamerule. Ruffled shirt linen, crisp and earthy.

“You want to know how I was thinking about you?”

A soft intake of breath.

“Yes.”

You shift a little to look to the Lower City further down the hills and pathways of Baldur’s Gate, the span of the Chionthar and its banks now lit with flaming torches.

The racket continues inside the Elfsong with songs being sung; food arriving at waiting tables and being spooned, hot, into hungry, wet mouths. Sweat slickened palms joining in prayer. Yellowed cards downed and reshuffled, hands dealt. Bards plucking at lutes and lyres on streets and in parks just far enough away.

He looks to you as you roll your tongue around the inside of your cheek. Soft round eyes seeking permission to dream alongside you.

‘I was picturing a wedding. Our wedding. In the cathedral back near home - I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before.”

Though it hasn’t been left to sit long enough to aerate, you take a long sip of wine and a cloying film of carnelian remains on your tongue.

His eyes sharpen.

“You didn’t just propose to me, did you?’

He quirks a brow.

‘Really, darling? Here?’

He gestures to your surroundings while feigning disdain and reaching for the other glass. You begin to shake your head.

‘Come on now, little love. Not even a ring?”

Astarion drinks. His voice is lower. You roll your head back in loving laughter and wriggle yourself from his grasp, buttering a chunk of bread before popping it cleanly into your mouth.

”You want a ring?’

A sip. A smile.

‘Go nick one. You’re the rogue here.” You quip, chewing still on the crust and wiping your fingers on a scrap of cloth.

He brings them to his lips and licks clean any trace of salty butter, kissing each pad of calloused flesh attentively before sipping from his glass.

“Thieving my own engagement ring? How very sad.’

Spare hand gesturing once again to the tavern in such a blasé fashion it would make you cringe if you still put any doubt into his estimation of you.

‘This whole thing.”

His brows furrow in jest, the corner of his mouth pulling at a quick smirk.

“Steal one for me, then.” You suckle at your wine, keeping the vessel close pressed to your lips lest their wavering seriousness give your smile away. Astarion studies you.

“You’d accept a stolen ring as a sign of promise? Of intent to marry?” He queries, though not sounding as airy - nor aghast - as he likely means to.

“Depends who stole it.”

He looks back to the city in the distance. Silence between the two of you.

“What were you picturing in that pretty head of yours? The wedding.”

His hands roll over one another nonchalantly as he says the word. Wedding. The glass sloshes. He’s toying on the precipice of serious, a scene he can’t quite play at comfortably yet.

“Oh no no no, my love. You’ll recoil. It was far too homely for your tastes.” You shake your head animatedly, waving your hands in emphasis.

He leans in towards you; a sordid grin. He’s comfortable now. The warmth in which his shirt dried vividly present.

“Oh go on, darling. Make me squirm. Tell me every fang-rottingly flaccid detail and I’ll absolutely hate it, I promise.”

You choose to forget the face of endless night this evening.

The anticipated fast approaching absence of the tadpole means - most likely - the rescinding of Astarion’s ability to walk in the sun, to bask under the stained glass rose in the chapel; or to waltz in a quiet midday embrace atop the Elfsong veranda.

“Can I trust you to be as absolutely appalled as I imagine you’ll be?” You whisper, saccharine in mock secrecy.

“I swear it. Hand on undead heart.”

He lingers barely above you, solemn; a voice of liquid gold.

You let the silence hang.

“A chapel’

He winces.

‘Cold and draughty in some early morning moment - a choir elsewhere in the building, not close enough to be loud but not far enough to have their verses be wholly indiscernible in song.”

“Go on.”

“Maybe a little austere in tone owing to the nature of the environment, but each moment feels anticipatory. A small - no, intimate - service, fast but…’

You tap your fingers on the dry wood of the bench. Trying to recall the exact sentiment.

‘Eager. Full of devotion so sickeningly true it literally fizzes below the surface of the flesh. Both of us.”

Now you sip, content. Astarion looks into the distance

There are no burdens pertaining to the ‘Absolute’. Life is being lived and the day feels as if it is ending only for another one - just the same - to rise in its place tomorrow. The idea of fighting and peril waits for the morning chimes. An unspoken agreement.

“I keep forgetting I can make choices like that now, truth be told. To commit myself to something with no intent other than that which I decide.”

He’s wistful. A little contemplative. Fingers tapping away.

“There’s no rush, my dove.’

Eyes back on you, hand reaching for yours.

‘Besides - for the trifle I pictured at the reception; we’d need to solve your little taste problem first before I’d dream of allowing such an indulgence to go to waste.”

Astarion coughs, a glint in his eye.

“You’re questioning my taste now?”

“Oh, absolutely. Look at your choice in partner.”

He laughs softly.

“You're an insufferable thing.’

Your fingers & knapsack are both heavy already with stolen gems, as are those of every friend you’ve met along the road. Rings of onyx, quartz; once personal keepsakes & now your plunderer’s spoils. He’s like a magpie whilst rummaging through burlap sacks and rotten barrels. Token pieces without rhyme or reason.

He knows they’re worthless to sell on, anyway.

‘Who knows, though. I might like that. Once I know who I am again.”

Wobbles his head. Examines his pristine fingernails, buffing them softly against his blouse.

“Did you just accept a proposal that you fictionalised in the first place?” You gulp the last of your glass before refilling it swiftly.

“No. But now, you’ve got me thinking.”

“Pray tell?”

He looks at you, eyes now awash with mischief.

“Though I absolutely adore the vision of you on your knees for me - you know I do pet, hush now - I also like the idea of claiming the pose for myself. In a way that’s meaningful for me.’

He sips. You remain in place, hushed.

‘I’m not a details man, my love.’

Eyes on you.

‘Don’t do it for me. I want to. Once we know where we are.”

You beam at him. Pinpointing the moment he turns from rogue to butter, a soft smile on his face. Sincere in the last of the sunshine.

You’re not hinting, and you’d never intend to. When - or if - you’ll tie the knot is as asking the length of a piece of string.

The road which brought you to this very bench, however; has been one fraught with similar nonsensical questions.

#astarion x reader #astarion #fluff #not smut #my writing #one shot #talk of marriage #gender neutral reader #i think #should be anyway #soft astarion

216 notes · View notes

marcmarcmomarc · 5 months ago

Text

I told you I would bring up @pmpknsoup’s post more times.

Feel free to comment or reblog how you think this would have gone.

———————————————————————————-

(In Theodore’s office in Shade Academy at early evening, Team RWBY and Jaune Arc face the main members of the Remnant Alliance, consisting of Team JNPR plus Oscar Pine/Ozpin and Emerald Sustrai, Team STRQ, the Ace-Ops, the Happy Huntresses, Winter Schnee, Team SSSNN, Team CFVY, Whitley Schnee, Willow Schnee, Klein Sieben, Maria Calavera, Dr. Pietro Polendina, Ghira Belladonna, Kali Belladonna, Ilia Amitola, Bartholomew Oobleck, Peter Port, Glynda Goodwitch, Theodore, Xanthe Rumpole, and Zwei.)

RUBY: Listen. Thanks, everyone, for your patience.

RUBY: It took a while to figure out how to tell you, and I know being left in the dark about our whereabouts over the remainder of the winter, the whole spring, and the summer has left you anxious, but now, I’ve decided it’s time to reveal what’s been going on. Robyn, I’ll need your Semblance to prove all of this correct.

ROBYN: Uh, okay.

(Robyn steps away from the group, removes her glove, and joins hands with Ruby. Her Semblance turns on and glows green with every piece of information Ruby gives.)

ROBYN: So, you guys didn’t make it out of the pocket dimension before it collapsed. Where did you guys fall to?

RUBY: Well, after I fell, I regained consciousness on a beach surrounded by giant seashells. I tried to hone in on a giant tree, but just ended up looping in circles. Eventually, I had to stop, then found a mouse trying to pull a plant out of the ground. I pulled the plant, which turned out to be a cheese plant, out for the mouse, and fed it to them. After the mouse revealed that they could talk, I named them Little, and they decided to stay by my side as I tried to get home. Then we found Weiss and Blake captured in vines by a whole village of talking mice. It didn’t take much convincing to get them to let them go. Then we went to look for Yang and found a creepy Grimm-looking creature moving jerkily. And I mean very creepy. (IMITATING JABBERWALKER) “Stalking. Searching. Waiting. Listening.” (NORMAL VOICE) Then Yang came barreling out, already fighting the creature while missing her arm. Then Blake realized we were in our favorite childhood fairy tale, The Girl Who Fell Through the World.

(Confusion and wonder all around. “That fairy tale?” “The Ever After?” “It’s real?”)

OSCAR: That fairy tale actually happened? And the Ever After is real?

RUBY: Which means the creepy Grimm-like creature was the Jabberwalker from that story. Also, Weiss had a very hard time wrapping her head around the Ever After’s absurdities.

(Weiss blushes with embarrassment.)

WEISS: I did not.

RUBY: Our hands are glowing green, Weiss. Robyn’s Semblance never fails. Then we went to the village in the King’s Acre to barter with the Jinxy Peddler, who had stolen Yang’s arm. Well, they don’t “steal”, they just “take things others aren’t looking at”. Fair is fair, right, Little?

ROBYN: Sounds like a legitimate businessperson.

WEISS: Right?

EMERALD: So, what was the Jinxy Peddler like?

VELVET: Was he cute?

WEISS: Cute? He was adorable!

RUBY: And, despite being older than he was in the book, his strategy was the same, selling treasures that are really other items in disguise. If my memory serves me right, he had a yellow scepter, a pink rabbit statue, and a marionette-like doll. Toy soldiers won the scepter, and we only got it back from them because Little tried stealing the marionette, exposing Jinxy’s treasures as fakes. The rabbit statue was another mouse, the scepter was Yang’s arm, and the marionette was one of Penny’s Floating Array swords. The soldiers followed us to arrest us for stealing Yang’s arm, or “royal property”, before I traded Penny’s sword, and told them she was the greatest warrior to ever live. “She was touched by magic, and she gave her life for thousands. She took a message of hope to the stars, and she saw the world through better eyes.”

(The gang gets emotional, especially Winter and Pietro, who are comforted by their loved ones.)

RUBY: The soldiers escorted us to the Crimson Castle for the birthday of who we thought was the Red King, but turned out to be the Red Prince, who was more of a spoiled brat than Weiss was at Beacon.

YANG: (nudging Weiss) Heh-heh.

RUBY: We challenged him to a game of chess, where he shrunk the girls to the size of chess pawns. Not that it hindered their performance against the Prince’s pawns. When we revealed that we’re humans and beat him, he threw a tantrum and wanted us beheaded, and the Curious Cat rescued us.

(More interested chatter. Nora Valkyrie gets giddy.)

NORA: The Curious Cat?!

REN: Were they as chatty as the book made them out to be?

RUBY: Mm-hm. Not to mention easily distracted. Anyway, they took us to look for ingredients for a Growgurt Parfait in the Garden’s Acre, and we told them our life story, but because we kept getting distracted with our internal conflicts, we kept losing them over and over again. After the third time, when they asked me how I’m supposed to save the world now that Salem has two out of four Relics and that Atlas is gone, we met an herbalist, a caterpillar named Herb. He seemed to be asking us questions to figure out what medicine he needed to make to help us. Looking back, he was being reasonable, as too little medicine is useless, but too much medicine is toxic. Eventually, Herb just decided to smoke a hookah for a bit and drugged us with leaves that made us see our past selves tempting us to “go back”. To be free. To be simple. To be whole. To be different. The other girls rejected and had already accepted their failures as something to learn from, but I almost gave in, before the Cat stopped me, then got Herb swallowed by a hole in the ground.

(The gang chatters in moods ranging from confusion to nervousness.)

TAI: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up. You guys did drugs?

QROW: Don’t let alcoholism be next, girls.

RUBY: Anyway, the Cat led us to a market to keep looking for the Parfait ingredients. Along the way, they told us about a process that occurs when an Afteran is no longer doing their assigned role, triggered by them losing their ways, wearing out, doubting themselves, or even just finishing their assigned tasks, upon which they are taken to the Great Tree and repurposed into someone or something else with a new identity, personality, and role. Their memories are erased in the process, but the heart very rarely forgets. They don’t die. They ascend.

(Such a concept catches the interest of the gang.)

REMNANT ALLIANCE: Ooh.

EMERALD: Talk about a potential existential crisis.

RUBY: Hence why there was no Red King when we got to the Castle. He lost his game and ascended into the brat we encountered. And the hole that swallowed Herb was him starting his own Ascension. Anyway, after we arrived at the market and got all of the Parfait ingredients, the market was attacked by Jabberwalkers using Neopolitan’s Semblance. Oh, yeah, Neopolitan fell with us, too.

(Nora, Ren, Oscar, and Emerald grow worried.)

REN: Uh-oh.

TAI: Neopolitan? Who’s that?

RUBY: Remember Roman Torchwick, the criminal from Vale? Neo was his partner. She held me responsible for his death at the Fall of Beacon and wanted me dead to avenge him. She expressed herself through gestures and facial expressions because she couldn’t talk.

RAVEN: Was she that chick I saved Yang from on the train on Mountain Glenn?

RUBY: Yep. Then I disposed of her by opening her umbrella on an Atlas airship in the sky during the Fall of Beacon. Apparently she survived that fall without any of those Grimm surrounding us eating her.

OSCAR: Team JNPR and I last fought her right after Ironwood declared us fugitives.

RUBY: Then she fought us in the pocket dimension between here and Solitas. Heck, she was the reason Yang, Blake, and I fell. Anyway, we made the Growgurt Parfait and the girls grew back to normal size just as we got assistance from the Rusted Knight riding his white rabbit.

WHITLEY: Did Weiss go goo-goo eyes the second she laid eyes on him? She had a crush on him when she was younger.

BLAKE: I think everyone had a crush on the Rusted Knight at some point.

RUBY: Well, things didn’t help when he turned out to be a grown-up Jaune with longer hair and a beard, who grabbed a fruit that sent him back in time twenty years right after he landed.

(The gang gasps at the new knowledge of the Rusted Knight being not only Jaune, of all people, but Jaune thrown backwards in time, grown older, and living without his friends for so long.)

NORA: Oh, my Gods!

REN: Jaune, that really happened to you?

JAUNE: I was stuck there isolated from other human contact, too.

YANG: Weiss certainly loved how mature he was.

RUBY: And the white rabbit was a jackalope Jaune named Juniper.

NORA: After his team? Aww!

RUBY: Then Jaune told us his perspective on the Tree, that he believed it was death, that Alyx backstabbed her brother Lewis, the author of the fairy tale, who wrote the story the way he wished it happened, and that the Cat couldn’t be trusted. Before long, we got caught in a “punderstorm”, which creates a physical manifestation of a mental or emotional problem. Jaune, Weiss, Juniper, and I were sent to metaphorical and literal crossroads, while Yang and Blake were sent to two broken, wooden, rickety bridges connected to a giant pillar that they could only make more planks to advance toward if they were honest about their feelings for each other. Yeah, Yang and Blake are girlfriends now.

(As Yang and Blake blush at each other, everyone’s hearts melt, all proud for the Bees.)

REMNANT ALLIANCE: Aww!

NORA: See, Ren? I told you there was more going on!

KALI: Our baby girl found love?

TAI: With my sunny little dragon?

RAVEN: Wow. She really is your daughter, Tai.

TAI: What’s that supposed to mean?

RAVEN: A tall overconfident blonde flinging dad jokes and puns and a brooding dark-haired beauty? A tale as old as time.

RUBY: Then the Cat bailed on us after mistaking us for selfishly using them to get home, and once the storm passed, Jaune let us spend the night in his house in the Origami Acre, then he introduced us the next morning to a village of paper stars called the Paper Pleasers. They seemed very dumb and clumsy at first, because of the daily disasters they were causing, but, at the end of the day, were very hospitable. He also named them after all of us. On his to-do list, I saw Ren, Ruby, Oscar, Nora, Neptune, and Pyrrha.

(Not a word is spoken as everyone exchanges concerned and uncomfortable looks with each other.)

RUBY: Anyway, a Paper Pleaser told us they kept causing disasters because they wanted to ascend, because their purpose was long since finished, but Jaune was stopping them because of his belief that the tree was death. They told us that the Tree isn’t death, but resurrection, rebuilding, and rebirth.

JAUNE: That must have been our waiter, the Blake Paper Pleaser.

RUBY: Then Neo’s Jabberwalkers attacked, and while we were distracted, the Paper Pleasers finally managed to off themselves by destroying the koi pond dam and drowning in the flood, then when the girls asked me to help comfort Jaune, I blew up at them for caring more about everyone else’s feelings or getting home, taking my mental health for granted and ignoring my problems…

(Everyone leans in anxiously. Things are getting even more interesting, but not in a good way.)

(Weiss, Blake, Yang, and Jaune exchange looks of guilt.)

RUBY: …then I ran away, came across the Abandoned Acre, and entered a mansion, where Neo had made clone illusions of Roman Torchwick, Penny, Pyrrha, Professor Lionheart, Clover, Ozpin, and Ironwood, and used them to physically and psychologically abuse me, beating me up ruthlessly and blaming me for their deaths, and when the chaos was over, I felt no will to live or be myself anymore, not helped by Torchwick’s question: “Do you really think you can stand to watch more of your friends fall? Or are you ready to admit the truth, that the world would just be better off without you?”

(The gang regards Ruby with sorrow over her being trampled by her trauma. Ozpin can be heard sniffling.)

RUBY: Then Neo offered me tea made from leaves from the Tree intended to wipe me from existence. The Cat blasted her away, but then turned out to be evil and tried to possess me, while revealing that they had been trying to wear me down the whole time, then Neo fought them off and stomped Little to death, then I finally gave in, drank the tea, offing myself, and got swallowed by the Tree.

YANG: (tearing up) Oh, Rubes.

RUBY: Then I met a Blacksmith, who I also found at the market, or, rather, she found me, and then she presented me with a choice to either change my identity or be myself. I saw my mom’s weapon and was treated to a vision of the night she left with Raven on another one of Ozpin’s secret missions and never came back.

(Tai turns accusingly at Raven.)

TAI: Raven?

YANG: She lied? She left with you?

RAVEN: Yeah… Hey, like I said to her, “First time for everything.”

(The gang gives her a look.)

RAVEN: Really? Sheesh. Tough crowd.

HARE: (to Ruby) Wait. What did you say your mother’s name was again?

RUBY: Summer.

HARE: (muttering) So, her uncle is Qrow, her father is Taiyang, and her sister’s mother is Raven. All are members of Team STRQ. Summer, Summer, Summer… (out loud) Summer Rose, the leader of Team STRQ, was your mother?

REMNANT ALLIANCE: (walla) Summer?…Summer Rose?…The previous silver-eyed Huntress?…That’s Summer Rose’s daughter?

RUBY: And then, I remembered my mom’s words, “I love you just the way you are,” chose to be myself, and came back to help the girls fight the Cat. And we won.

(Cheers and applause all around.)

RUBY: And then Neo killed the Cat by using the Jabberwalkers to eat them. By the way, Jabberwalkers are the only creatures to prevent Ascension if they eat Afterans.

BLAKE: On my count, there were a whopping five of them.

REMNANT ALLIANCE: (walla) Five?…Five of them?…Five Jabberwalkers?

SUN: Talk about overkill.

ELM: (after doing the multiplication math in her head) That’s gotta be over ninety teeth!

RUBY: And, according to the girls, Neo was possessed by the Cat, and she chose to accept Torchwick’s death and undergo her own Ascension. Oh, and Little ascended, too, into who we called Somewhat, and succeeded Jaune as the protector of the Ever After. By then, we had made it to the Tree by coming to terms with the truth, we’ll never be perfect, that even the most skilled Huntsmen and Huntresses have failed, and we walked through the door back home, landed inside the plane of the Tree, and met the Blacksmith again at her workshop. When we noticed two statues of the Brother Gods, she told us their backstory. That the Ever After was overfilled with plants and dangerous wildlife in its primordial years, but the Brothers were created to clear it out. Then they created the Afterans as well as the different acres for them to live in. They designed new creations that would replace them in maintaining the Ever After. This was how the Cat was created. They later created the Jabberwalker as a form of destruction. However, the two disagreed on whether it disrupted the balance or not and began to wage war.

OSCAR AND OZPIN: (both scoff) What else is new?

RUBY: The Blacksmith told us how balance isn’t supposed to be two opposing forces locked in battle; balance is an ecosystem, an organism, and a living thing, thus balance isn’t restored with force or manipulation, it’s restored naturally, requiring love and patience to see it through to the end. The Gods got to Remnant because the Ever After created a door to a “greater beyond” for them, so they can leave and experiment in creating new worlds as much as they like.

REN: Huh. So the Ever After existed before Remnant.

NORA: (snickering) So the Tree basically said, “You think you have life sorted out? Then get out of my house”?

RUBY: Pretty much.

(Everyone laughs at the Brother Gods basically being “kicked out of the house” by their “mom”. Some Gods they are.)

YANG: Oh, my Gods, that’s such a hilarious way of looking at it. Thanks, Nora.

RUBY: Anyway, the Blacksmith told us that we impacted the Ever After significantly, just like Somewhat, Alyx, and Lewis, and that the Cat caused a bad impact. Then she de-aged Jaune, but let him keep his memories, which explains the white streak in his hair, and made us a portal in the desert on the outskirts of the city, and now you’re all caught up.

(Ruby lets go of Robyn’s hand. The freedom fighter rejoins the rest of the Alliance.)

RUBY: So, I’m happy to announce that I’m not giving up the fight to save the world anytime soon! Between Academies and Kingdoms going down and our friends’ lives being forced to abruptly end, we’ve had a lot of ups and downs over the past two years, but we always pulled ourselves back together at the end of the day, and we won’t stop now! With global unity right at our fingertips and the ability to keep moving forward and accept our failures as things to learn from, things the villains would never even fathom, we can stand up to Salem and her forces! And no longer will we be putting the entire burden of the world’s safety on one individual! My name is Ruby Rose, and I am a Huntress!

REMNANT ALLIANCE: (walla) Yes!…Great!…Alright!…Thank goodness!…Welcome back, Ruby!…Good to have you back, kid!…Way to go, Ruby!…That’s my girl!

YANG: We’re so proud of you, Ruby.

RUBY: Thanks, guys. You and your support mean the world to me. And I’m just as proud to call you guys family. All of you.

(Everyone looks at Ruby with warmed hearts.)

———————————————————————————-

Starring the voices of:

Lindsay Jones as Ruby Rose

Cristina Vee as Robyn Hill

Aaron Dismuke as Oscar Pine

Kara Eberle as Weiss Schnee

Katie Newville as Emerald Sustrai

Caiti Ward as Velvet Scarlatina

Barbara Dunkelman as Yang Xiao Long

Samantha Ireland as Nora Valkyrie

Neath Oum as Lie Ren

Burnie Burns as Taiyang Xiao Long

Jason Liebrecht as Qrow Branwen

Anna Hullum as Raven Branwen

Howard Wang as Whitley Schnee

Arryn Zech as Blake Belladonna

Miles Luna as Jaune Arc

Tara Platt as Kali Belladonna

Anairis Quiñones as Harriet Bree

Michael Jones as Sun Wukong

Dawn M. Bennett as Elm Ederne

Shannon McCormick as Professor Ozpin

Additional Voices (no individual lines, but can be heard chattering, sobbing, gasping, cheering, laughing, and exclaiming, “Ooh,” and “Aww”):

Sena Bryer as May Marigold

Ashley Burns as Coco Adel

Tiana Camacho as Glynda Goodwitch

Dani Chambers as Iris Marilla

Cam Clarke as Bartholomew Oobleck

Michele Everheart as Fiona Thyme

Cassie Ewulu as Arslan Altan

Dave Fennoy as Dr. Pietro Polendina

Gavin Free as Scarlet David

Caitlin Glass as Willow Schnee

Mick Lauer as Marrow Amin

Cherami Leigh as Ilia Amitola

Marissa Lenti as Joanna Greenleaf

Joe MacDonald as Yatsuhashi Daichi

Aaron Marquis as Nolan Porfirio

Elizabeth Maxwell as Winter Schnee

Max Mittelman as Fox Alistair

Josh Ornelas as Sage Ayana

Jon Risinger as Bolin Hori

Zeno Robinson as Nadir Shiko

Anthony Sardinha as Peter Port

Kerry Shawcross as Neptune Vasilias

Keith Silverstein as Professor Theodore

Melissa Sternenberg as Maria Calavera

J. Michael Tatum as Klein Sieben

Kent Williams as Ghira Belladonna

Erin Winn as Reese Chloris

Anne Yatco as Xanthe Rumpole

67 notes · View notes

vixensbrainrotts · 1 year ago

Note

hiii i just discovered ur blog and I love it and was thinking if you could write for smiley/Baji and reader that plays sports(volleyball maybe) and maybe they meet when she hits them accidentally... Feel free to ignore my request💝

Lovestruck — Nahoya <Smiley> Katawa

Content: ask-based

Tropes: Volleyball player! Reader, (kind of) loser! Nahoya (he is a loser you cant tell me otherwise)

Warnings: brief mention of fainting, cursing, (slight disrespect towards the end but idk?)

Summary: Nahoya isn’t an easy match, especially not easy to take down, but against your mighty float-serve he stands no chance.

Vixen‘s two cents: Hello! I got a new keyboard so writing feels like butter right now :) smooth. Yeah anyway sorry this took forever to write but i LOVE this request, i love playing Volleyball so im so happy that i could write about it as one of my passions. Anyway, i hope you enjoy this cause i enjoyed writing this! (Also tell me why whenever i write for Smiley he‘s always getting beat the fuck up? Lol)

Bouncing the ball on the court a few times, you smiled, hearing your teammates cheer for you, calls of „Float serve!“ and „Serve it up Girl!“ echoing through the hall. Fulfilling your little pre-serve ritual you bent your knees and crouched a little, batting the ball towards the floor with one hand three times before chucking the ball upwards. Overcome in a rush of confidence thanks to your mates, you took a short run-up, jumping and stretching in the air, swinging your arm in one powerful motion to reel up for a nearly perfect serve.

The ball cut through the air, soaring over the net. The opposing Libero sizes up, readying herself for a receive but at the last moment she decided that it must be falling into the out, leaving it be as she hears her teammates suspicion. Shouts of „Out!“ and „Leave it“ made you falter a little as all eyes were on your ball, watching it meet the ground, right inside the upper right corner of the court.

The whistle blows and the Referee gestured to your half of the court. „In!“ He gestured with his hands sticking up and you and your team, along with a few onlookers erupted into cheers. „ACE!!!“ your teammates chanted shortly, celebrating the point before returning to positions. The ball gets tossed back to you, and the whistle counting eight seconds in which you have to serve blew.

Pounding the ball on the floor, you completed your ritual again, your teammates calling „Again!“ and „Get‘em!“, and you threw the ball into the air again, winding up for another powerful blow. You hit the ball, sure that this would be another point when the referee blew the whistle unexpectedly, mid-serve. Confusion hit you, afraid you had served a foul ball, or waited too long, but when you looked towards where the ball was flying, you noticed why the whistle sounded.

There was someone on the court. Seemingly in his own world he cut the corner of the court, unaware of his surroundings, most of it shrouded by his hair. The ball was barreling towards him at top speeds, and despite the collective calls of „Watch out!“ and „Ball!“, he barely had enough time to respond when your ball hit him, violently smashing against his head and ricocheting off, rolling towards somewhere in the distance as he‘s knocked off his feet.

Guilty, you stood still in shock for a second, the hall quiet as nobody makes a sound as people looked between you, him and the ball. In a haste moment you jolted alight and broke into a quick jog over to him to see if he was alive.

—

Nahoya had simply been tasked to grab a mop from the storage room in the gym to clean up some of the mess one of his pranks had caused. Nothing more nothing less. When he entered the gym hall , his mission was clear: in, mop, out. Glancing into the hall he noticed that there was a game of volleyball going on, but decided that he could just quickly cross the court to reach his destination.

He regretted that decision now, lying on the floor, clutching the side of his head where he fell. His world was spinning, and not in the way it did when he got hit during fights. This was a wider surface area, and he felt himself get queasy as he swore that his brain was rattling from the impact.

„A— ou—o- ay??“ a voice faded in and out of his ears, eyes cracking open to look at a pair of gym shoes. „Huh?“ he grunted, trying to figure out speech again. „Oh—- od—- he— as- a—con- usion!“ his ears picked up, but the cut off words dont register fully. Instead, his eyes traced up the legs that stood before him, a pair of kneepads catching his gaze shortly before it moved further up. Entranced, he let his eyes map out a pair of (rather wonderful) thighs before the angle he was lying in forced him to look at the face of his saving grace.

„Wow..“ he whispered as he studied your features, the world behind your face blurry as you leaned down towards him, kneeling as a hand came up to his neck to check his pulse. You wove your free hand towards something, somewhere, and then he felt the world slip from underneath him, his hearing muffling as a vignette closed in around the corners of his vision. From one second to another, he went slack on the floor, everything turning black.

—

Completely panicked, you wove over some of the bystanders, asking for assistance to get him over to the sidelines for some immediate attention. In a rush, his body was lifted onto one of the spare equipment room at the side, the referee calling for your team to get back onto the field and play on, trusting you to treat the fallen boy. You were team captain after all.

His pulse was stable, you decided after a minute or two of counting and feeling the thumping on the side of his neck. Slightly relieved that you didn’t just commit murder you rolled him onto his side, shifting into stable position that aimed for him not to choke on his own tongue. You kneeled beside him, holding a damp wash cloth in one hand, a waterbottle clutched in the other.. Slowly and carefully you got closer to his face and whispered “please don’t flinch” as a quiet warning before pushing his hair out of his face to drape the cloth over his forehead.

Once the task was done, you remained sitting beside him, monitoring him for any movement or potential issues. There were a few moments of pure silence between you two which you spent just kind of observing him. You didnt think that you’d seen him before, not recognizing a haircolor as bold as orange to be very familiar to you. Your eyes traced his neat curls as they laid over his head, the coils shining slightly. The slope of his nose was oddly pretty, and you found yourself envious of the little gem that sat precious on his left nostril. His lips were full and lush, the same flushed shade as his cheeks, and judging by the twitch of his eyebrow he might be waking up soon.

His shallow breathing picked up, his nose twitching as his eyelids started to flutter, a soft noise falling from his lips. You readied yourself with the bottle of water you had picked up earlier and shuffled closer to him to ensure that he doesn’t panic too hard when waking up in the foreign space of the storage room.

„Hi…“ you carefully called out to him, hoping that your voice would serve as a smooth transition between conscious and unconscious. „please don’t scare, you’re alright…“ you continued, tapping the bottle nervously as he groaned again, eyelids fluttering open but screwing shut again due to the bright lights.

„Mmmh, what?“ He mumbled, voice gravely as he spoke. „Hi there, you’re currently in the open storage room connected to the gym so dont be confused.“ you said softly and watched his eyelids slowly crack open, now receptive to the bright overhead lights.

„Why am I on the floor though?“ The boy mumbled, raising one of his arms to swipe a hand across his face, pulling the washcloth off his forehead as he regained his bodily sensations. You cringed a little before you answered, a tad embarrassed. „Youre laying on the floor because you briefly lost consciousness-“ you were about to elaborate, but his confused grunt cut you off.

„What? Who did I lose to? Lemme- lemme rematch!“ he sounded distressed, now moving to get up- something he clearly shouldn’t do- so you stopped him before he could sit up fully. Planting a palm on his chest you pushed him back down, to which there was little to no resistance. „You lost to my serve, no rematching to be made.“ you clarified, leaning over him with the water bottle in your free hand.

„What? To you?“ he opened his eyes all the way, having adjusted somewhat well to the bright lights as he got a good look at you for the first time. His eyes widened, albeit still a little drowsy „Oh… damn Mama…no wonder I lost to ya, you could lay me down any day..“ You both gasped in synchronization as you flinched back from him, hand retreating from his chest as you stared down at him. He, likewise just as bewildered as you stared back up at you, a hand slapped over his mouth as his face transitioned into a darker, redder shade.

„Oh my god. I didnt mean- it‘s- Im so sorry.“ He stuttered out as he tried to scoot away from you to give you both some space to breathe. „Yeah, its ok, I mean its my fault really, I knocked you out, its clear that you have a little bit of a hazy mind…“ You utter down at him bashfully, a small smile wavering on your lips as you think about the absurdity of the situation.

„No no no I mean thats really inappropriate and I really shouldn’t have said that at all, I promise I don’t mean to be disrespectful but you’re so… you know? And maybe I should just shut up actually cause I think the more im talking the worse im making this all..“ He trails off as he comes to sit up fully, eyes filled with guilt as his focus darts around the room.

„Hey, hey, its alright! I mean, yeah ok maybe that was not what I was expecting but uh… you know… maybe take me out beforehand?“ you giggle as you scoot closer, taking the wet washcloth from where it lay forgotten beside him. Chuckling, you fold the cloth and set it, along with the water bottle, down next to him. „You‘re kinda cute, you know?“ you smile down at him as you stand up completely, boldly winking at him before turning on your heel to leave.

„Wait you serious? Hold on-“ he called out after snapping out of his daze, and you felt your smile widen across your face, cheeks tingling in a warming sensation. „Rest. Stay there until you feel better, they need me on the court, I’m the captain after all.“ you walk out of the open storage room, briefly throwing the boy a look over your shoulders.

„Im Nahoya by the way!“ he called out to you when he noticed your attention, and in smooth response you pulled your hair over your shoulder, revealing the lettering of your name on your jersey as you took your spot on the field. Your teammates noticed, immediately, and started giggling and whispering, teasing you about Nahoya who was now setting down at the side of the court, next to a line-judge he seemed semi-familiar with.

„Dang…“ Baji muttered and shook his head. „Knocked out clean with a Proxi-slap…“ he pondered, a hand on his chin as his eyebrows furrowed. „Baji-San i dint think that that‘s-„ Chifuyu was going to correct him, but Baji kept talking „That chick must have one hell of a punch then...“. Nahoya nodded, almost proud as he recounted it. „Yeah! It was so forceful i thought i was being hit by a train! You know what, it‘s sorta comparable to one of Hanma‘s hooks…“ the crowd of captains and vice captains ah-d and ooh-ed at the comparison.

„And you stayed there? Watching? They allowed you?“ Souya questioned, in slight disbelief. „Yeah! Oh my goodness you wish you could have seen…“ Nahoya swooned, fanning himself with one hand at the very thought. The surrounding members of Toman grumbled and snickered, some giving encouraging whoops to the twin.

„So a Volleyball-player…“ Pah-chin coughed, „She got—?“ „Thighs! Thighs for days oh my lord you wont believe it! And her smile! The way her hair falls, when she cheers and celebrates…“ Nahoya cut him off, a dreamy smile streatching across his face as he started to recount every thought he had when watching you.

The others shared a knowing glance and Mitsuya snickered „Damn, she‘s got you bad, huh?“ Nahoya stopped and looked at him, eyes blank as he thought for a second. „Yeahn… I guess…“ he trailed off to which Draken burst out into a loud laugh.

„She done ‘nd tamed one of the wildest guys I know, damn! You said she knocked you clean out? With a serve? You know damn well that shawty could beat ya ass!“ Draken went on, leaning onto Mistuya for support who joined the laughter.

„Hey listen! You‘ll shut ya mouths once you see all she brings! Full package I tell ya!“ Nahoya scrambles to defend his dignity (or yours, he wasnt quite sure).

„Right Romeo. You‘ve got her number then?“ Mitsuya quizzed, to which Nahoya fell silent.

„Shit.“

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokrev #tr content #tokyo manji revengers #x reader #tr headcanons #tokyo rev #smiley #smiley x reader #tokrev nahoya #nahoya x you #tokyo revengers nahoya #kawata nahoya #nahoya x reader #nahoya kawata

244 notes · View notes

embarrassedanon · 4 months ago

Text

A free trip to Australia to help his uncle's marine biology expedition sounded too good to be true to Simon. The weather was gorgeous, the marine life out of this world, the only catch seemed to be the crew.

Despite all of their typical Australian surfer dude look, these guys were total nerds. They knew everything there was to know about the ocean and had no qualms about making Simon feel dumb.

Whenever he asked, in his opinion, reasonable questions the whole crew, his uncle included would exchange glances, nudge one another, and chuckle in ways that made him feel two inches tall.

No matter, always the optimist, Simon decided he'd just focus on swimming and sunning. No use in trying to make chit chat with the nerds, even if they were unbelievably sexy.

On one of the days when they were diving down to a reef, Simon stayed up on deck, sunbathing and handing them flippers and vials for samples as needed. His hands, greased up sun tan lotion, sent a handful of supplies barreling over the edge of the dock. The crew, fathoms below would certainly notice if they saw their equipment floating past them to the ocean floor so Simon knew he had to act fast.

He dove in and ferried everything to the edge of the boat before hoisting himself back up. Just as he emerged from the water, the crew surfaced. As they removed their googles and respirators they were treated to the sight of Simon's hairless butt cheeks. His waterlogged bathing suit had sagged beneath the curve of his ass, flashing quite the plumber's crack to the chortling crew.

"Simon, buddy, your Marianas Trench is showing." His uncle said, eliciting guffaws from his crew.

Simon whipped his head around to let them know he wasn't even offended by his little marine-based slight, because only a nerd would know what that meant.

He was stopped in his tracks when over his shoulder he caught sight of his bare ass.

They were all looking at his exposed cheeks.

Blushing like a red snapper, Simon roughly pulled up the speedo, a grave overcorrection. The force he exerted on the suit caused the material to lodge in his crack leaving the underside of his cheeks exposed and, as became apparent when he turned around, his balls to spill out the side.

"Oy, why don't you get your poor nephew at wetsuit so he's not all shriveled up," one of the crew guys yelled out. The laughter was even louder now.

This was a total nightmare for Simon. A bunch of hot guys who already thought he was an idiot poking fun at his totally embarrassing wardrobe malfunction. And he was stuck in the middle of the ocean with no way to escape. He knew this trip was too good to be true.

#enm #swimming #plumbers crack #my writing #enmstory

57 notes · View notes

theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 1 year ago

Text

You Owe Me

Characters: Buggy x Reader

Warnings: slight language (but mostly chaos)

Summary: Your solo-adventure somehow ends up with needing to team up with Buggy...

Luffy had decided for everyone to take a few days of free time after months of relentless travel towards the Grand Line. They had docked the Going Merry at a quiet town port and set off on their own adventures.

You took a small boat and sailed out to enjoy the open water in the hopes to find some treasure along the way.

As it happened, you reached a bandit camp one-day out that had been pillaging neighbouring abandoned islands. Banking the floating vessel amongst some tall rocks, you snuck up behind their campsite and waited for them to fall asleep.

When nightfall approached, you were ready to sneak in and steal their plunder so you took a step forward and-

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A voiced whispered so close to your ear that you registered it as a threat and immediately punched the person in the face.

“Ow-! What was that for?” Buggy growled as low as possible to remain hidden.

One of the bandits heard the light commotion and jolted awake after realising that he was supposed to be on duty. You grabbed Buggy and sank lower into the ground, waiting a few short minutes until the bandit had passed overhead.

Letting out a tense sigh, you glared furiously at the blue-haired pirate. “You made me lose my window. I should go make you juggle for them as a distraction.”

“First of all, ‘lose’? I just saved your ass from blowing your cover.” He argued quietly. “And secondly, my juggling skills are impeccable.”

You rolled your eyes and returned focus on the camp. “What are you even doing here?”

“Being a pirate. I’ve had my eye on these idiots for weeks.” He replied and joined in.

It was unlike him to be alone without his troupe. “Where’s the travelling circus of cronies? Finally grew themselves a brain and left you?”

Buggy glanced at you. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Equally matched, you dropped the question not wanting to reveal where the Straw Hats were stationed.

“There’s a satchel by the campfire likely filled with gold.” You said, changing the topic altogether which made the clown smirk.

Raising a finger, Buggy poked your cheek and pushed it to the far right so you were looking at the barrels of ale.

“There’s another bag behind that wall of booze and it has better riches.”

Swatting his finger away, you considered the second option. Buggy wasn’t exactly known to be truthful in fact almost every time you had teamed up with him, he had found a way to double-cross you.

The clown stared at you as you fell quiet and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, now you don’t trust me?” He asked loudly and as if it was your fault.

“Have you met yourself?!” You bit back with a voice equally raised to match.

“Hey! You there! Show yourself!” One of the bandits suddenly cried out and alerted the rest of the camp to the intrusion.

And just like that, your quick plan to steal gold was turned into a complicated mess. While you didn’t trust Buggy with a great many things, you couldn’t deny that he was skilled at combat… you just had to ensure that he didn’t kill anyone on your watch. Bandits weren’t entirely ‘innocent’ but there was worse out there.

With a fair degree of ease, you and Buggy managed to knockout the camp and retrieve both bags of loot. Buggy greedily took them from your hands and began rummaging through the riches.

Typical. You had expected this kind of behaviour from him but you also didn’t care about the treasure. You hadn’t had a thrilling solo adventure in such a long time.

Clink!

Looking down, you realised that you had accidentally kicked one of the bandits outstretched hand which had loosened his hold over a red jewel. Picking it up, you inspected the authenticity.

Rubies were rare in these parts and the smallest one would get you at least two million berry.

“Well, it’s been nice catching up but I have places to be.” Buggy told you, reaching out for the treasure in your hands.

“Whoa!” You pulled the ruby back quickly. “I don’t think so. You owe me.”

“Owe you?! For what? Abandoning me when I was beaten by that stretchy kid? Punching me less than an hour ago? Or maybe when you said that Shanks was right in calling me selfish?” Buggy listed angrily with his fingers.

By the East Blue was he entitled!

You raised your hands and began counting all the reasons in return.

“I helped you get your body back at Arlong Park, I didn’t tell Shanks that you stole the real Chop-Chop fruit and the treasure map, I did your make-up that day the Marines took your hands, I saved you from drowning…”

“You’re the one who threw me overboard in the first place!”

You scoffed at the detail. “And then I saved you. You’re welcome.”

Buggy groaned and leaned back. “Oh! This is going nowhere. I’m not giving you anything and you’re not taking that.”

Shaking your head, your crossed your arms and turned away from him. “Shanks would have let me.” You snarked.

Buggy’s nerve had been struck with that single comment and he stomped even harder. “Fine! You can take my damned ruby! Gah! Grr!” He conceded and then marched off to his boat.

Clutching the gem in your hand, you tossed it in the air and smiled.

Worked like a charm.

Masterlist here (for more One Piece)

#gif is not mine #theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #buggy the clown x you #buggy x you #buggy the clown imagine #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #opla x y/n #opla imagine #opla x reader #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #opla!buggy imagine #opla!buggy x reader

181 notes · View notes

archangeldyke-all · 1 year ago

Note

mermaid reader and pirate/sailor sevika

sevika would be such a good pirate! she's ruthless and driven and really fucking smart, could you imagine her in one of those billowing white shirts??? i just nutted.

anyways, let's be cliche. it's so fun.

men and minors dni

you're out swimming when you come upon a shipwreck. judging by the wreckage still in flames, it had happened pretty recently. you swim closer, eager to see what kind of treasures were on board. as you approach the debris, you hear a groan. you freeze, your eyes scanning the water for a sailor as you sink into the water, just your eyes above the waves.

it's been a while since you had a sailor, and human is always a nice treat when you've been feasting on fish for a while. you bite your lip as you start slowly swimming around the various floating barrels and shrapnel.

there's a few dead men bobbing on the surface of the sea face down. you scrunch your nose in disgust as you navigate the bodies, swimming toward the moaning that's echoing over the waves. humans only taste good when they're still warm.

as the last remaining yards of the main mast sink below the surface, a loud, animalistic scream sounds out from behind you. you whip around. your eyes catch on a moving figure. as you swim closer, you're eyes adjust, and you realize that it's a human hugging onto a bobbing barrel. you grin, your sharp fangs descending from your gums as you duck beneath the surface and swim under the barrel.

two feet below the floating human, you can only see their flailing legs. you smile. human legs are so strange looking. you reach out to run one of your long, sharp nails down their pant leg, laughing when they start to panic, flailing around in the water. "what the fuck was that?!" you hear their garbled shout out above the water. you giggle, then wrap your hand around their ankle. a loud shriek rings out and they nearly kick your face with their free leg. you dodge them and swim away, slowly rising to the surface behind where they're scrambling to straddle the barrel and get their body out of the water. you chuckle.

the sailor whips around to face you, and you both simultaneously gasp.

it's a woman, you think in shock. her breasts are heaving, and the thin white shirt she's wearing is doing nothing to conceal her chest now that it's soaked. her silver eyes are wild, her black hair is plastered to her face, her brown skin is dotted with drops of water. a pretty woman.

"fuck." she whispers. you giggle again, swimming closer to her as she scrabbles at the barrel in fear. "fuck fuck fuck." she curses. you stop ten feet away from her.

"i've never seen a human woman before." you say. she freezes.

"y-you can talk?" she asks. you giggle. humans always ask that.

"what are you doing out here?" you ask. the woman blinks at you.

"are... are you gonna kill me?" she asks. you shrug and smirk.

"dunno." you say honestly. "never killed a woman before."

it's silent for a moment. then, "aren't you supposed to sing?" she asks. you burst into laughter.

"only if i was trying to lure you. but... you don't really have anywhere else to go, do you?" the woman studies you and you study her. "you're very pretty." you say. the human laughs. what a lovely sound. "what are you doing out here?" you ask her again.

"i... i was captain of this ship." she says. you blink.

"women can sail?" you ask. she scowls at you.

"'course we can." she grunts. "they just don't want us to."

you consider this, looking the woman up and down. she's shivering now, the shock and adrenaline wearing off. "doesn't look like it went very well." you say, gesturing to the floating bits of ship surrounding you. she growls.

"that's not my fuckin' fault! my navigator got scurvy!" she spits. you swim closer to her and she shuts up, gulping. you frown.

"are you scared of me?" you ask. she huffs a laugh.

"obviously." she says. you frown.

"why?"

"fuckin' look at you!" she says, gesturing her free hand at you. you look down at your body. "gills and fangs and shit! i thought mermaids were a fuckin' myth!"

you pout, sucking your fangs back up into your gums. "there. better?" you ask. the woman shrugs.

"depends."

"on?"

"are you gonna kill me?" she asks. you grin.

"dunno." you say again. she groans. "what's your name?" you ask.

"sevika." she says.

"how'd you get into sailing?"

"dad was a fisherman." she grunts.

"which flag do you sail under?" you ask. you've had horrible experiences with sailors who wave the flag with the red X on the white sheet, a few of their ships tried to hunt you for weeks. ships that fly the red X on the blue sheet carry tasty sailors, always fattened up and full of liquor. the woman before you chuckles.

"none of 'em." she says. you raise an eyebrow at her. "i... technically was not the owner of that vessel." she says, gesturing to the bottom of the sea where her ship has sunk. you grin.

"you're a pirate!?" you gasp. she shrugs.

"i guess."

"a woman pirate!?" you ask again. she chuckles at your excitement.

"yeah." she says. you swim in an excited little circle before reaching your hand out to sevika. she flinches away from it and you pout.

"come on. i'm not gonna kill you." you say, shaking your hand at her. she eyes you warily.

"right. i'm sure you say that to all the boys before you sink those freaky teeth into their throats." she says. you grin and giggle.

"well yeah, but you're not a boy." you say. she hesitates, still, and you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "fine. i'll just leave you here to starve to death. or maybe the dehydration will get you first. you'll start drinking the saltwater to quench your thirst and that'll be it. or maybe the sun will just cook you to a crisp when it rises." you say, slowly swimming away from the pirate. panic starts creeping over her face as you speak, and when you dip beneath the water, you hear her scream.

"wait! come back!" she shouts. you giggle and pop up six inches away from her. she jumps in surprise, her grip on the barrel slipping, and she starts flailing as she begins to sink. you quickly hook one of your arms under hers, pulling her back up to the surface and holding her as she gasps and sputters for air. "thank you." she says, as she clings to you. you smile.

the woman falls asleep in your arms as you swim her to a small deserted island nearby. on the shore, with half your body still in the water, you gently tend to her wounds, cleaning them out with saltwater before dressing them with strips of her shirt. she shifts and mumbles in her sleep, but doesn't wake. you admire her for an hour or two, pressing your ear to her chest to listen to her lungs, poking at her legs and studying her toes. when the sun begins to rise, you spend an hour catching and killing fish for her, dumping the headless bodies into a pile beside her sleeping body. it occurs to you that humans drink freshwater, so you begin to swim around the perimeter of the island, looking for a river or stream where you can collect some water for your new human friend.

when you return to sevika with a sack you'd made out of leaves filled with fresh water over your shoulder, she's starting to wake up. you claw up onto the beach to lay beside her, watching her twitching eyelids blink awake.

"you're real." she grunts. you smile. "thought i imagined you." she says, sitting up. there's sand in her hair, and you reach up to brush it out.

"your hair's so soft." you say as you twirl a lock of it between your fingers. sevika looks around her, taking in the island and the supplies you'd piled by her legs. she looks back down at you.

"you brought me here?" she asks. you nod. she blinks. "and the fish?"

"figured you needed to eat." you say. you nod to the freshwater. "got you water too." you say. "the kind you can drink, i mean."

sevika laughs, slightly hysterical as she takes in the scene. you frown.

"this is like... fifty pounds of fish." she says. you blink at her.

"yeah?"

"that's way too much fish." she says. you pout.

"i thought you'd be nice. you're a woman pirate for fucks sake, you're supposed to be cool! but all you've done since we met is call me scary lookin' and insult my fish!" you say as you start to shove yourself back down the shore and into the water. "i saved your life! and i didn't eat any of the fish i got for you. i mean, except for the heads. and i brought you to land and everything! you're fuckin' heavy, you know, and i swam you all the way here! and i haven't insulted your freaky ass legs once!"

you feel better back in the water. you duck your head under and swim ten feet away from the shore, twirling in a figure eight as you refresh your dehydrated body. when you breach the water, sevika's waist deep and scrambling, her hands reaching out as she searches for you in the waves.

she spots you and her shoulders slump in relief. you back away as she starts trudging towards you.

"would you quit swimmin' away, asshole? i'm trying to get to you!" she shouts. you roll your eyes at her but stop swimming, allowing her to doggypaddle over to you.

"you should be careful. the tide'll sweep you out and then you'll be lost at sea aga--mmph!"

sevika cuts you off with a kiss.

you've never kissed anyone before. some of the girls in your pack like to play with their food before they eat-- pressing kisses to enchanted sailors before tearing their throats out-- so you've seen it before. you just never got the hype.

at least not until now. because now, sevika, the pretty woman pirate, is pressing her chapped lips against yours, her warm human hands gently cupping your jaw as she hums against your mouth. now, you feel a whirlpool in your stomach. now, you feel an altogether different kind of hunger for human flesh in your chest. you wanna taste her, so you dart your tongue out to brush against her lips. she moans against you, one of her hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you against her chest. you shudder in her arms. she's strong.

sevika pulls away with a gasp after a while, and you hold onto her shoulders to keep steady as a dizzy feeling swirls in your head.

"i'm sorry." she says. "you're right. you've been nothing but nice to me and i've been a bitch. it's just a lot. i nearly died and then got rescued by a mermaid who chose to save my life and make me breakfast instead of singing me to my final sleep." she says. your eyes are locked on her lips, your tongue licking your own as you watch them move as she speaks. "you're beautiful." she says. "like... devastatingly beautiful. i can see why so many sailors would be allured by you." she says. you smile, your eyes flicking up to hers.

"we don't really eat that many humans, you know. before you guys had boats, our diet was mainly fish." you say. sevika grins.

"so... do you wanna eat some fish with me now?" she asks, gesturing to the tiny mountain of headless fish waiting on the beach. you bite your lip.

"promise you won't kill me and sell my body to scientists or something?" you ask. sevika laughs and kisses you again.

"yeah. 's long as you keep letting me kiss you." she whispers.

those terms seem pretty agreeable to you.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #this was soooooooo fun to write omg.#also in case ur wondering: u end up helping sevika hijack a new ship and build a new crew #sevika builds a giant tub on deck for u #and her crew and ur pack team up and start luring asshole sailors to their deaths #for u to eat and for sevika to rob #and u guys live happily ever after obvs.#dont ask me how the mechanics of mermaid sex works #i have no idea

305 notes · View notes

moonlightsolo · 2 years ago

Text

yawnyewla | broken-hearted

summary: the tipani clan, located deeply hidden in the jungle, the people are perhaps the fiercest warriors amongst the extrasolar moon— and you are one of them. you’re an indigenous na’vi, who has recently wedded her best friend, eyturi— but all in one day, everything you’ve ever loved is snatched right out of your hands. on a leisurely flight with your mate, you’re ambushed by the rda, and separated from your ikran and eyturi, causing you to free fall into the jungle below you, right into omatikaya territory; the one place you do not want to be.

pairing: neteyam sully x fem!na’vi reader

warnings: mention of character death, blood, violence, injury, arguing, overall sadness :’( #sorry

note: i’m starting anotha series for y’all <3 u better read it and leave feedback my ego is starving

the bond between a na’vi and their ikran is unlike any other. never to bond with another na’vi, they are like a swapxì- a family member.

to fly is to be free; to be free is to be connected to the all mothers spirit.

the wind flows through your hair, and the beads that adorn your braids rustle from the gust. you let out an ecstatic laugh, leaning back with your arms extended away from you; mimicking the wings of the bird beneath you.

your gaze drifts over to your companion soaring beside you, the wide smile on your face mirrors the expression of your mate— eyturi, that is.

the tipani warrior has been your best friend since the beginning of time. once you both became of age, the na’vi man swooped in to court you before any other man could. resulting in him bonding with you alongside eywa—making him your lifelong mate.

you have never been happier in your life.

eyturi points at the floating mountain you’re growing closer to. he sends a wink your way as his ikran gains speed to cut in front of you, soaring directly under a waterfall cascading off the island.

his ikran flaps it’s large striped wings, sending a mist of water directly over your head. the coolness of the liquid chills your heated skin, but you gasp from the shock of it nonetheless.

your mate peers down at you from above, cackling as he holds his stomach from his laughter. your eyebrows knit in the middle with a determined smirk, “you will pay for that!” your grip tightens on the reins as you fly upwards to him.

his eyes gawk at your beauty as you ascend in the air, a proud grin on his chiseled face. even knowing you his entire life, your beauty is still extraordinary to him.

you admire his armor, made from the shell of the mighty txursum, “are you just going to sit there and stare, ma tìyawn?” he questions sassily with the nickname that makes your knees go weak.

just as you’re about to respond with a witty comeback, something dark emerges from behind one of the islands in the sky. your bloodstream runs cold— the sky demons, they’re here.

eyturi notices the change in your demeanor, following your gaze to the target that has taken your attention away from him. the sound of the powerful engines of the aircraft grows louder as it barrels toward the both of you.

“we must fight!” he shouts, “eyturi! it is too dangerous!” you cry out in distress, “we must for our people! for pandora!” he hollers and yips, as he pumps his weapon into the air and takes off toward the gunship.

you let out a vicious hiss directed at him, “aaah!” frustrated with him from not listening to you. you reach behind your back to slide your bow in front of you before taking off to follow him.

“yi-yi-yi-yiaah!” you cry out piercingly, eyes squinted menancingly.

eyturi swoops in upside down over the top of the gunship, taking out the passenger pilot with an arrow.

his ikran glides down the side of the ship, and disappears behind the side of the mountain to dodge the bullets flying at him. he appears over top of the rocky side, sending another arrow at the sky demon. it hits the one wielding the side gun and pierces the demon right in the chest.

you soar right on his tail, eyes peering into the inside of the ship as another sky demon replaces the dead one. the gun cocks as it reloads, his finger freely presses against the trigger to send multiple rounds at the two of you.

eyturi circles the plane, dodging one of the engines as the pilots attempts to squash him into the rocky side of a mountain. he’s thrown off guard by the sudden movement, twirling around the ship to the other side.

you dodge the fire coming from the other side of the ship, twirling and darting through the air frantically.

the ship takes its attention off of you as eyturì bolts beside it with his bow loaded with an arrow. you spin your ikran around to head back and help him, but it’s too late.

a dreamwalker reloads another round into the gun, the loud click rings in your ears. a devilish smirk is plastered on their face as he the bullets fly right into the chest of eyturì.

“no! no, no, no!” you cry out in pain as your eyes witness each bullet tear through his torso. his cold eyes trail over to you as he slips off the side of his ikran, breaking the bond with his animal. you let out another heart wrenching shriek as his body tumbles into the jungle below.

the banshee beneath you whines from your shared pain, screeching and chittering. hot angry tears stream down your cheeks, the droplets smear the red and black war paint drawn onto your skin.

before you’re able to properly mourn, the ship turns to beeline straight towards you, “come on, keyè! we have to go!” you sob at your banshee. she squaks and darts the opposite way.

the whirring engines grow closer, and you can hear the shouting of a foreign language coming from demon bird. you drop down under the floating mountains, skimming the tops of the clouds. you swivel your waist to turn around while keeping your knees forward.

plucking your last arrow from the sack hanging on your shoulder, you notch it into place against the string. sucking in a sharp fearful breath when the gun points downward at you from above.

it’s now or never— you let out a guttural, bloodcurdling scream as the gun unloads rapid fire shots at you, and the arrow is released from your grip.

keyè barrel rolls in the sky in order to take the full damage of the bullets to protect you, using her own body as a shield. your throat releases another pained howl as your sister is shot, feeling the burning pain inside of your own chest.

the banshee releases the bond with you as she plunges toward the ground, “no! keyè!” you cry out after her, scrambling in the air as you free fall

an explosion lights up the sky above you, sending a wave of heat over your descending body. your eyes stare in shock as the fireball engulfs the side of the mountain, sending shrapnel and debris down to chase you.

you did it— you hit the engine…

the air whips beside your ears powerfully as your body is helplessly pulled to the ground. you must try your hardest to focus on grabbing the branches, it’s your only hope, but it’s harder than it seems.

once you pass the treeline, your body is repeatedly striked by splintering wood as you tumble through the branches. your hands scramble to grip onto something to soften your blow, but you’re falling too fast.

panic ensues when your brain quickly realizes you failed to break the fall. the ground is suddenly closer than it seemed, and your body slams into the ground with a loud crack, landing on your side atop of a log.

your lungs punch out a pained wheeze, and a raspy sob. your sight fades in and out, but you can see the firey debris barreling towards you.

with a loud shout, you slide your weak body off the side of the log, landing in a bed of plush grass with another painful thud. it’s a pain you’ve never felt before; it’s blinding, and inconsolable.

you’re gasping for air as the pain sizzles at your nerve-endings, obliterating your muscles and bones. the debris from the ship lands beside you, barely missing your body— but somehow, you don’t seem to care if you were to be impaled.

you can feel your consciousness slipping away from you, “eywa… please let me die a warriors death. let me join eyturi…” you manage to shakily murmur before you succumb to the darkness. the grip on the grass loosens as your hands fall limp

—

“come on! we shouldn’t be out this far! dad is going to have us by our necks!” kiri whines in protest, but still continues to follow her brother and her human friend through the foliage.

“bro, we have to…” lo’ak’s voice fades as he steps a foot over a log. his eyes spot the familiar blue skin of a na’vi laying asleep in the small clearing of grass. you’re surrounded by shards of metal from the gunship that exploded, the one their dad specifically told them to stear clear of.

“dude… is that a na’vi?” spider mumbles from behind him, almost in shock as he looks over his two friends anxiously.

lo’ak creeps forward slowly until he is fully over the log. the boy approaches your body apprehensively, his head twisting as he examines you, “no lo’ak!” kiri hisses at him, “you have to call it in to dad!”

the sully boy squats down to your level, leaning forward to get a closer look. he admires the spiked hard-shelled armor that is formed to your shoulder, and travels across your chestpiece. he takes note of the striped paint that is now slightly smeared over your body.

“i’ve never seen her before. she is definitely not one of us…” one of his hands reach out to press on a point under your jaw to seek out your pulse.

“wait- she’s alive!” he calls out, his round eyes dart over the two standing off to the side. his other hand rises to his throat, pressing on his comm device to activate it. “dad, we found a girl… not one of us, but she’s hurt.”

“is she alive?” his father answers, jake sully, the olo’eyktan of the omatikaya clan.

“barely.” lo’ak huffs as he monitors your breathing.

“where are you?” jake sully questions with a harsh tone.

lo’ak shakes his head and takes a deep breath before replying, “just outside of camp… in the forest.. under hallelujah mountains.” lo’ak murmurs, his ears droop when his dad sighs in his ear. from obvious disappointment of lo’ak not listening to his previous orders to stay out of the area.

“wait, father! i’m close to his location, i’ll go.” lo’ak’s older brother, neteyam, joins in on the conversation.

“alright, boy. go, and bring them all back to camp.” jake mumbles, and the conversation is cut.

lo’ak’s shoulders slouch in annoyance as he stands up, “neteyam is coming.” he grumbles as he keeps his eyes trained on you.

kiri and spider decide since you’re unconscious, it should be safe enough to join lo’ak in the clearing with your body, “the paint… i’ve never seen anything like it. what clan is she from?”

“i don’t know, but i know she doesn’t look like you guys.” spider laughs almost nervously, and scratches the back of his head.

kiri is squatted down beside you, one hand perched in the grass between her legs to steady herself. she leans forward, almost nose to nose with you as she admires the art on your skin.

“and the armor. we don’t have anything like this.” her fingertips gently pokes at one of the spikes protruding from the shoulder plate.

the loud flaps of a creatures wings stir up the brush of the forest, indicating neteyam has arrived. lo’ak is leaning against the trunk of a tree, crossing his arms over his chest as he waits for his brother to come to the rescue.

neteyam sully, the eldest of the sully siblings. (otherwise known as the golden boy and the mighty warrior) he swiftly lands the ikran in the vegetation beside the clearing, leaping off of his animal to jaunt over to the others.

he stops in his tracks as he absorbs the scene in front of him, “for some reason, i didn’t actually think you were being serious.” he stifles a chuckle in his throat as he takes a few steps toward you.

he leans over, placing his hands on his knees as he analyzes your face, “she’s pretty beaten up. are you sure she is alive?” he asks as he slides himself between you and kiri.

“yeah, bro. she’s alive. i checked.” lo’ak rolls his eyes, and unsheathes his knife to play with the tip of the blade in his fingers.

neteyam continues to reach down to seek out your pulse to double-check his brothers work. the faint beating of your heart pumps against his index finger, “alright… okay.” he huffs out as he nervously talks to himself. he bends down fully, experimentally shaking at your shoulder to see if you were somehow just asleep.

he admires your face for a moment, glancing over your skin and a cut that cuts into your cheekbone and through your eyebrow. you seem as if you’re around his age, so you must have made iknimaya… so where is your ikran?

when he tries for the third time, your eyes continue to stay shut. he decides to pick you up, and he slides an arm under your knees. his other arm supports the back of your neck and shoulders as he hoists you into up with a grunt, “i’m heading back to camp. you guys need to get out of here, we don’t know if there’s any thing else out here.”

“fine.” lo’ak bites back, and storms away in the direction where he left his ikran. kiri gives neteyam a sympathetic look as she passes him, and spider nervously eyes you in his arms as he follows close to kiri.

neteyam sighs into the warm air before making his way back to his ikran. the animal chitters softly, which causes your muscles to flinch in his hold. he stops in his tracks to look over your body, making sure you’re really unconscious before climbing onto the saddle.

once you’re laid in his lap, one of his hands wrap around the leather string of the reins, “come on, let’s go home.” he mumbles to the animal, making its wings expand to take off. the banshee flaps his wings to gain momentum as it ascends into the sky, breaching the tree-line as it travels farther into the blue sky.

the ikran coasts through the air, drifting around other floating islands as she makes her way back home.

the feeling of cool air whipping past your face makes you smile, but it’s soon turned into a grimace from the pain that awakens inside of your body. you let out a soft groan as you wiggle against something sturdy, yet still soft underneath you.

your eyes flutter open, instantaneously blinded by the brightness of the sky. maybe, you’re still falling to your demise, or maybe you’re still riding on keyè… through your blurry vision, a pair of round amber-colored eyes meets yours; a male na’vi, but you can’t make out their identity. is it eyturi?

“it’s okay. i’m going to help you.. stay with me!” his deep voice is soothing to you, but it rings deafeningly in your ears.

with the last bit of your strength, you raise your hand to cup his cheek, “ma muntxatan…” your voice croaks out.

neteyam freezes from the nickname, shocked to his core. something flutters in his abdomen as he takes in what just happened— you called him your husband, your mate.. he almost catches a smile on your paled lips before the darkness clouds your vision, and your body goes limp in his arms once again.

“ah shit- come on, tawmi. let’s go! yah!” he shakes the reins, urging the ikran to go faster.

the high camp is located in a cave system that is only accessible to ikran’s through a crevasse in the rocky floor. the animal lands inside with a loud screech, alarming the people that neteyam has arrived with you.

his father, the olo’eyktan, is standing off to the side speaking to a group of na’vi before turning his attention to the arrival of his son.

“neteyam!” he shouts out as he strides over to the boy who is already walking up to him. his eyes look over the badly bruised and cut up body in his arms, “woah… okay. gimme her. we gotta get her to norm.” he opens his arms for neteyam to transfer you over to him.

you whine in your sleep from the pain of being moved, which makes jake rush off even quicker towards the med bay.

neteyam strides just as quick on his fathers heels, taking a step back when you’re laid down in an empty cot. “norm! over here!” he calls his friend over who rushes to your side with his modern equipment.

the sully boy stands off to the side, his worried eyes taking in every little thing. he grimaces at the needle being stuck in the crook of your arm, and watches when medicine is pushed through the tube connected to you.

jake works on unlatching your constricting armor pieces, which reveals even more deep bruising and cuts. norm is handed a retractable tablet from another na’vi, that opens up into a handheld x-ray machine. he scans over your body once you’re rid of your armor, examining your bones that show up on the screen.

“her top left ribs are definitely broken, and i don’t see any internal bleeding. she just took a nasty fall. most likely has a concussion…” he puts down the x-ray to open your eyelids and shine a light into them, “but no obvious signs of brain injury.”

“what can you do for her?” neteyam steps forward, his eyes flitting between his father and norm.

“wrap it and ice it. give her some pain meds and hope for the best.” norm replies as he glances at jake.

neteyam sighs in disappointment, wishing there was something else he could do for you; for some reason, there’s a little voice inside of his head urging him to protect you.

“neteyam, go find your brother and sister. make sure they get home safe, ‘kay? your grandmother is coming, so we got this handled here.” jake shoos his son outside of the medical tent.

the boys tail flicks out of his frustration and his ears flatten on the side of his head. he doesn’t understand why he is forced to go seek out lo’ak, kiri, and spider. they were the ones stupid enough to not listen, and he knows they’ll make it back on their own.

the boy huffs and turns on his heel to walk out of the medical area. on the way back to his ikran, neteyam runs into his mother and grandmother walking together towards the tent, “mother!” he calls out and jogs to meet her halfway.

“oh, neteyam.” she looks over her son for any injury before telling the tsahìk to continue on, “what is this girl that i am hearing about?”

“lo’ak found her in the forest with kiri and spider,” his mother hisses at that sentence, obviously angry from her youngest son disobeying orders, “i was already scouting nearby, so i went to help him. she’s alive, but barely.” he shakes his head stressfully, running a hand over his face.

“maitan…” she hushes her son, and places her hands on his shoulders, “who is she?”

“i don’t know. she is from a different clan, but she’s wounded, mother.” neteyam gulps anxiously.

“your grandmother is a skilled tsahìk, she will heal her in no time-.” neytiri is cut off by a loud guttural scream coming from the med bay.

neteyam and his mother rush back toward the tent, the sound of crashing metal and screaming worsens as they get closer.

“hey, hey! calm down! we’re not going to hurt you!” jake sully has his hands up in the air as surrender, his eyes widening as he dodges another flying object aimed at his head.

“you must calm down! be quiet!” mo’at yells at you from the side of your bed, but her voice falls upon deaf ears.

“no! you are dreamwalker! a sky demon! get away from me! leave!” your voice screeches loudly as you chuck another item at norm’s avatar, “go! get outta here!” jake screams at his friend, who practically shits his pants and sprints out of the tent past neteyam.

neteyam and his mother watch from the archway in shock from your feral demeanor.

you leap up from your spot on the cot, squatting like a rabid animal as your wild eyes search for your weapons, “where am i? where are my things?!” you shriek.

“bring me back to my people!” you grasp a fallen bowl from the tsahìks healing ritual to use as a weapon. you eyes dart over the people around you, chest heaving with exertion with your arm raised; ready to bash anyone in the head with the stone bowl who dares to come near you.

then you see him. the bright-eyed boy from your dream, the one who saved you.

the memories from before whirl back into your brain, sending a wave of nausea over your body, and the adrenaline is sucked from your body. your mate, your ikran…

your balance falters slightly from your legs trembling under your weight. you topple back onto the bed with a sob, rolling onto your side as you painfully weep, “no, no… eyturi…. keyè…”

everything you have ever known has been torn apart in the span of a few hours— now to you your life is meaningless. why must eywa bring you back to pandora? why couldn’t she grant you a warriors death like you prayed for?

neteyam watches as his grandmother pricks a sharp object at your skin, which somehow sedates you for the time being. your cries slowly fade away as you’re overtaken by sleep; he will never question the tsahìks ways, but it always confuses him.

neytiri rushes to her husbands side to make sure jake is okay, checking him over as she angrily scolds him.

neteyam takes a step inside the chaotically strewn room, minding his step as he weaves through the various pieces of equipment that litter the floor.

“she is hurting very deeply. she has suffered a great loss, neteyam.” his grandmother softly breathes out as her watchful eyes gaze over your sleeping body.

“what happened?” he pries slightly, eyeing his grandmother through his peripherals.

“i do not know, but she is mournful. she needs guidance to seek her lost spirit.” she murmurs.

neteyam watches how your muscles twitch as you come back to reality. how your nose scrunches up when you softly sniffle, and your body that begins to writhe on the rough fabric of the cot.

you hiss, weakly baring your sharp fangs at the intimidating na’vi that surround you. then your eyes are back on his.

the hardened expression on your face softens when you see him, turning glossy as more tears fall from your eyes.

“i’m the olo’eyktan of omatikaya. i swear to you, that we are only trying to help.” he steps forward with his palms facing you, a sign of peace.

“om-omatikaya..?” you answer as if you’re confused, “you are toruk makto?” you question with a wince.

“yes, toruk makto!” jake exclaims with a grin, “that’s me.”

“i must to go back to my people.” you wheeze out as you grasp at your side, pawing at the darkened spot on your ribs.

“you have to heal yourself first. we can do that here, but we need you to cooperate- to trust us.” jake steps toward you hesitantly. the memory of how you were throwing things at his head still replays in his mind.

“how will i trust you if i’m surrounded by dreamwalkers and demons?!” you hiss, which makes you grimace and your breath hitch from the pain.

“they’re our friends. they’re not bad people.” jake tries to reason with you, but he’s met with an angry growl.

“the tipani do not trust them. we do not engage in any sort of relationship with them.” your voice grows softer before you let out a hoarse cough.

“the tipani..” neytiri speaks up as she steps forward, sliding around her husbands back to stand in front of him.

“your people are great warriors…” her strong voice fades out as her mind works to put everything together— the armor, the paint, and the healed scars that litter your blue skin, “known to be the fiercest hunters.”

you smile from her words, a genuine grin as your eyes flutter back over to the sully boy in the doorway. neteyam feels his chest heat up from your eyes on his, but he pushes the feelings down just as quick.

your body goes lax as you’re suddenly consumed by sleep, eyes fluttering shut. another symptom of whatever his grandmother pricked at your skin.

“we must let her rest. everybody leave her here with me, i will take care of her.” mo’at looks over your resting body from beside your bed, but nobody makes any movement to leave.

“now! leave!” her voice demands, making everyone scatter out of the room like mice.

“neteyam, one moment.” she calls to her grandson, making him stop in his tracks to turn her way.

“i see that she trusts you, more than any of us. once she awakens, you must look after her. to make sure she doesn’t…” her hands motion to the mess in the room, “…do this again.”

neteyam sharply inhales through his nose and curtly nods at the tsahìk, “of course, grandmother.”

“good. now go to your parents, i need to finish here.” she pats his upper arm as he passes her.

neteyam walks out of the hut, glancing back one last time to peer at your sleeping form. the boy sucks in a worried breath before disappearing around the corner.

his legs take him towards home, to his family’s hut in the middle of the camp. when he nears the entrance, he can hear his parents arguing, but it’s more like a disagreement than anything.

movement over to the side startles him, making him squint at the darkness beside the hut. he spots his siblings off to side eavesdropping, “neteyam!” his little sister tuk whispers harshly and motions with her hand for him to come.

neteyam’s forehead crinkles in confusion as his eyes dart from his siblings and then to his parents inside. neteyam almost falls to the ground when his father abruptly looks his way, but he rolls to the side out of sight.

small hands belonging to tuk attempt to help him up as he stands to his feet, “you okay?” kiri whispers from behind the little girl.

“yeah, yeah. i just hope he didn’t see me.” his voice is quiet as he breathes heavily. he boldly peeks around the side of the hut to look inside, only to see his parents are still busy talking to each other.

“jake! my mother, the tsahìk, knows what she is doing! you should trust her!” neytiri hisses at her husband.

“honey, i do trust her! it’s just that i don’t think we should be harboring this.. this girl. we should give her back to her people, to her clan! they’re going to come looking for her!” jakes voice raises, making his wife snarl in annoyance.

“you do not listen!” her strong voice rumbles as she paces, “she is hurt, ma jake! she needs us—the omatikaya…” she speaks more softly to him, “we don’t even know where her clan is. they disappeared when those demons returned.”

neteyam listens closely to his parents conversation with his eyebrows knitted together.

he wonders why his father wishes for you to leave; maybe it’s because of your behavior, and how you threw multiple objects at his head. he knows his dad is protective, especially when it comes to his family.

“let’s find neteyam. see how he feels about it.” he hears his dad speak out his name. his ears flatten and his eyes dart frantically over his siblings, “go, bro! or they’ll find us too!” lo’ak ushers him quietly from behind kiri, before stepping up and pushing him forward into the opening.

just before jake starts to walk out of the hut, neteyam strides inside like he wasn’t just listening to their conversation.

“um- everything okay? do i need to leave?” he questions stupidly as he busies himself to rummage for fruit in a basket.

“yes, maite.. everything is okay. your father just wants to ask you something.” his mother speaks with her arms crossed over her chest, obvious frustration on her features.

the woman motions with her head for jake to continue.

“your mother and i were talking about the girl your brother found, and i’m not entirely sure if it’s safe to keep her here.” jake stands tall with his hands on his hips, his eyes nervously dart between his wife and son.

“well, grandmother seems to trust her.” neteyam points out, which makes his mother puff of a small bit of air through her nostrils— almost as if she is amused with his answer.

her eyes stare daggers into the side of his fathers face, which just makes neteyam mentally laugh, “and she put me in charge of her once she is awake.” he takes a bite of the fruit in his hand.

both of his parents swiftly turn their heads to look at him with wide eyes, “she, what?” his mother is the first to speak.

“she told me that the girl trusts me or something… i’m not sure.” he trails off as he chews, and crosses his arms over his chest as he looks over his parents.

“well, if the tsahìk says so…” neytiri sharply eyes jake from her peripherals, “then your duty is to look after her.” neytiri curtly nods at her son, but jake let’s out an exhale.

“do you think her people will come looking after her? will she put us in danger?” his father continues.

“it may be a possibility, but she’s hurt, sir. you even saw that. she’s badly injured, and we can’t let one of our own out there by herself in that condition.” neteyam tries to calm his dad’s worries, but it seems to send him into a spiral.

“do you think she had anything to do with that explosion earlier?” jake continues to ask questions, and neytiri scowls and slaps her hands down on her thighs out of annoyance.

something clicks in his brain, as if a lightbulb turned on and shined a light over the subject, “yes, possibly… when i was bringing her back here, she said something to me about a mate, and then she passed out… again…” neteyam’s eyes look off to the side as his mind works through every scenario.

“because if she had something to do with it, that means the rda are getting closer to us and-.” jakes rambling is cut off by neteyam’s voice.

“look… father, i’ll speak to her and see what i can get without upsetting her too much, and whatever i hear i’ll bring directly back to you.” neteyam nods softly, and stands up straighter with his shoulders pushed back.

“okay, boy. yeah, that’s a good idea.” jake rubs his temples with one of his hands over his forehead, “go get some rest, i’ll go find your siblings. it’s gettin’ late and we all need some sleep…”

jake takes a step towards the exit, and suddenly the group appears around the corner. all three of them yawn in sync as they shuffle inside as if they weren’t just eavesdropping. neteyam sees right through their facade, trying his hardest not to laugh at them.

tuk walks up to neytiri, while the other two tiredly wave and scurry into the pods that branch off from the main living area.

neteyam takes that as a cue to head to bed to avoid any more questions from his parents.

all he can think about is you— how badly wounded you are, and the cuts and bruises that litter your skin. he prays to eywa that his grandmother works her magic to heal you. he feels torn between whether to help heal his father’s mind, or to help you…

the boy tosses and turns throughout his sleep, unable to find a comfortable position— or maybe it’s just his restless mind. he can’t stop thinking about how the previous events of the day played out, and he can’t stop picturing you in his head.

he swiftly sits up out of his hammock and presses his feet to the floor; he must go see you. the sully boy silently sneaks out of his pod, and creeps toward the exit. he pushes back the drapes of fabric to duck beneath them, stepping outside.

he takes a sharp breath of fresh air as he slithers throughout the silent village, but when he grows closer to the med bay he hears muffled sobs.

neteyam peeks past the entrance, only his eyes visible if you would look his way. the first thing he spots is your back faced towards him, and notices that your entire torso is wrapped in a white bandage. you’ve been stripped of your jewelry and armor; the gauze covers your entire chest, even your breasts.

his grandmother must’ve sedated you enough to allow norm to wrap you up— he wishes he could have seen your reaction when norm came back, oh to be a fly on the wall. he makes a mental note to ask him about it later.

the light in the tent is dim, casting a golden hue over your trembling body. his own heart tugs at the sight before him, wishing he could go up and comfort you— but he doesn’t want to scare you. you have obviously been through a lot.

neteyam takes a step back from the entrance, but runs right into a pile of crates stacked behind him. he attempts to rebalance himself, but his legs trip up and sends him hurtling towards the ground.

your soft sniffles halt, the sound of the cot squeaks under your weight as you move, “who is there?” your shaky voice calls out.

the boy sighs loudly, mentally cursing himself for being so clumsy. he pushes himself up from the ground to stand to his feet, his ears droop in embarrassment as he rounds the corner.

you’re now sat up in the bed, with one arm wrapped around your side, gripping the spot where the pain thumps at your ribs.

your fierce gaze softens when you see the omatikaya boy, “oh… it’s you.” you breathe out as your eyes examine his stature in front of you, “what are you doing here?”

neteyam clears his throat and stands awkwardly in the doorway, “i’m just making sure you’re okay, but i seemed to have- uh.. gotten lost back there and tripped.” he admits with a chuckle, and scratches the back of his head as he glances to the side.

your eyes can’t help but run up the expanse of his lean body when his arm raises, admiring how the skin stretches taught over his chiseled muscles. your eyes are quick to dart away from him when his eyes turn to you. quickly, you lay back down in the bed from your sat up position, letting out a pained breath as you lower your back to the cot.

your eyes stare up at the weaved ceiling, tracing each fiber that interlopes with each other, “i’m fine, but i appreciate you for coming to check on me.” your voice bites back in response.

he takes a few more hesitant steps toward you until he is an arm length away from the bed. his eyes look over the smeared paint on your skin, and the multiple cuts that seemed to have been stitched intricately.

“do you need anything?” he asks softly, his eyes run down your torso before worriedly settling on your face.

your eyes shift to stare at him, an unreadable expression on your features. you’re unsure why this boy cares for you so much— you are a stranger, an intruder to the omatikayan people.

“i wouldn’t mind a blanket…” your soft voice breaks the silence as your eyes refuse to acknowledge your request.

a grin breaks out on neteyam’s face and he curtly nods.

his round eyes search over the room, before spotting the corner of a brightly colored knit fabric. he scurried over to the other side of the room to pull the blanket out of a container, not caring as the lid tumbles to the floor.

neteyam hurries back over to you, and your hands outstretch to recieve it. he tsks, and shakes his head, “no, no. you need to rest. let me.” he hushes as he carefully drapes the fabric over your lower half and torso, and tucks it underneath your arms.

he can see the tip of your tail wiggling underneath, which almost makes him chuckle. “there ya go.” he grin proudly for himself as he looks up at you.

a soft flit of light flickers over your expression, which fills his chest with hope that you’re warming up to him— but it disappears just as fast, and your eyes return to the ceiling.

“thanks.” your voice exhales out.

“of course,” he clears his throat before continuing, “if you need anything else, i’ll be back in the morning.”

you almost let out a laugh at his words, but you stop yourself. you wonder why is this boy so kind to you; you’ve done nothing, but try to attack his people, and insult everyone in the room. you decide to hum and nod in response, instead of laughing.

you have absolutely no energy to speak to him, mentally and physically. your thoughts are consumed by memories of eyutiri, keyè, and the events that led to your life falling apart before your eyes.

neteyam takes your silence as a cue to leave, giving you a soft tight-lipped smile— which you, unfortunately, don’t pay any mind to. he turns on his heel, and ducks under the entrance.

it feels as if his mind is even more clouded than before he decided to check up on you. he assumed coming here would help, but it seemed to do the opposite.

somehow, neteyam feels even more determined to break down your hard exterior; to make you feel at home, to help you along your healing journey, and to finally get to the roots of what happened to you.

he wants to know everything.

tags: @rannjlkttrt @mazzycherub @lilly12lesry

569 notes · View notes

jacktheeldergod2 · 27 days ago

Text

I haven't been on my bullshit for too damn long

As you are putting on your shoes you find a coupon for a free gift from "Saul Vegera's fine finds" behind your ear. It has a small map leading to a part of your home where a secret door will lead you to the shop. Your options are:

A third eye. About as big as the average middle finger when curled,it's color is a lively red that contrasts the ill,yellowish look of the rest of it,veins popping visibly and even having a visible heartbeat at some spots. It'll be bound to you by taking a few drops of your blood and injecting it in the eye. From then on you can see spirits,magic and other supernatural phenomena through the eye,make it float around and teleport near it at a moment's notice or vice versa. If destroyed it'll transform one of your eyes into itself or appear in your empty eye socket. If in your eye socket it'll change size to accommodate your head

A worn out medical syringe,the old timey type. When filled with blood it'll become unnaturally warm and cozy to the touch. Injecting a creature with another's blood will make it live all the memories of the blood but won't harm it in any form. Doing this monthly for a year will permanently telepathically link the creatures. New creatures are all linked to this mental network

A phone booth sized metal box that has a hydraulic press on its top and bottom. Any two things crushed together will fuse together as well as the material can allow,such as making a spork. Crushing two creatures will make an optimization of the two,even unearthing lost evolution. For example 2 humans will result in a 4 armed human with a monkey tail,as tall as the fused power of the joints bones and muscles allow(usually 5 meters tall),will have fully pronounced female and male traits and have its own identity but remember the lives of both the fused people. In the culture it was created the fusing was utilized as a form of marriage

A straightjacket that looks completely normal except for a pocket in the back. First you need a piece of your biomass in the pocket,like blood,hair,nail clippings etc. from then on the jacket will start mentally adjusting those who wear it. At one hour the victim will start adopting your views. At five it'll have the same opinions as you. At 8 its intelligence will have undergone severe decrease. At 12 the person will be completely obedient and devoted,not unlike states of mind portrayed in "drone" fetish art. At 24 hours the person will be deleted and your soul will have control over their body,pretty much making you a hivemind. This is irreversible. People with multiple personalities will take longer to be deleted due to multiple souls inhabiting the body

An old military revolver that can never kill a person,thus often killing diseases or cancers when it shoots someone. It is always fully loaded no matter what. The better the wielder's aim is the more control they have over the effect of the bullets. Eventually they'll be fully able to alter people's bodies such as altering the joints,changing the shape and size of muscles and more. As they use it the wielder's hand will become fused to the pistol as they get more and more obsessed with the idea of healing others. Their bodies will gain other gun barrels and bullet chambers with them becoming more and more metallic. This process can be stopped by not constantly holding the gun. Good luck with that

3 sealed vials made of glass and copper,one with green sludge,one with pink and one with black. pouring the green one on a substance will make it bigger and other instances of the substance will "spread" on other nearby things till the sludge is put back in its vial. The black one will start devouring objects,lowering the amount of that substance in the world. If allowed to fully eat an object the substance won't be found on this solar system ever again. Pouring the pink sludge on a corpse will make the species of said corpse be born with physical blessings for the following years,not stopping until removed from the corpse. Drinking the pink vial will instead make you immortal and constantly better your body but make all others of your species gradually grow old quicker,raise the rate of birth defects and eventually stuff them out. After that you'll slowly become a pink ooze,your sludgy form fully under your control as you alone stand remaining,nothing short of a nuclear explosion or the death of the sun able to kill you

A jar with a shadow and a jar with a light. This shadow will remove all darkness in the area, spreading farther and farther until the jar is closed. The light jar does the opposite, replacing light with shadow. Drinking the contents of the shadow jar will allow you to control its abilities and be able to see in complete darkness. Drinking the light jar will give you its abilities and your eyes will be able to see the full color spectrum. Yes both can be drank by the same being. If the consumer dies the jars refill

A crown made of fool's gold and colored glass in place of gems with a discolored jester's hat whose bells don't jingle sewn on the inside of it. While wearing this hat your every word will be almost universally trusted. You'll be so charismatic the things you'll say will even surprise you. After you wear it a few days golden rings will dig into your skin,connecting the hat to your head. You'll start to lie more and more. After a few months you'll become more erratic and anxiety ridden and new bigger rings will bind the hat to your skull. After a year you'll be losing everyone's trust as you'll grow paranoid,and you'll never ever be able to not lie for the rest of your life. But hey. Maybe you'll still be able to get some mileage out of your charisma. Maybe a kind soul will take you as it's jester,at which point a jester's outfit will cover your entire body,mask glued to your face,and forever and ever you'll devote your life to being a jester,an entertainer,showman and jokester as your new body never ages. And if something kills you you'll leave no corpse behind. Only the hat will remain,a new glass gem upon it

A statue of an angel sitting down and sewing some old rags,5 meters tall. It wears nothing,no genitals,nipples or even an asscrack appearing upon its thin,frail form. Its eyes look focused and filled with love,a stoic look upon its face. Anything placed upon its lap will be fixed by the next dawn. The land around the angel will become healthier and more fertile,the air cleaner,the sun more merciful and the animals will feel safer. Its dominion will expand with time. Many eons into the future life shall sprout in other planets in the ecosystem,and as long as it stands the sun will never burst

A bronze circular bathtub. If filled with blood of children such as lambs and piglets it is able to perform a ritual. A single creature that has reached adulthood must be boiled alive in the blood. Afterwards the creature will be reborn in its desired body. Wings,claws,breasts,carapace anything the creature wants its form to be it shall be just that as long it's physically possible. Supernatural powers like floating cannot be given. The creature shall remain young for 11 years,after which it will resume aging if it doesn't redo the ritual

A door. You can summon the door wherever you want as long as you leave a bloodstain on it. Adding a new bloodstain won't change ownership unless the previous stain is removed. By walking through the door you'll be in a vast world made just for your tastes. Endless machinery that automates everything,boundless meadows, pristine gyms,brothels with the most beautiful beings you've ever laid eyes upon,lush jungles filled with amazing fruit,anything you could want,and as long as you are there your body will be healthy and you won't age a day more. But nothing from that world can ever be taken out of it,no power or object and no person can join you in your paradise. Perhaps you'll find it worthwhile to never leave

A tool box with bone grafted on it to make patterns,letters in a language you can't speak carved on skeletons of beings you've never seen. Just opening it will have it empty. By killing something while it's in the box,for example letting an animal suffocate in it or slitting a lamb's throat while its head is in the box,it'll gain a tool of your choosing. More complex things like a computer may take the life of many beings while a rat will be enough for a screwdriver. There is no limit on how many tools you can have or how many instances of the same thing,and the toolbox will always have the tools you want when you open. By pouring a wine bottle's worth of your blood in the toolbox it'll fuse with you and you'll be able to summon it or even open your chest cavity as a gateway to it. Nightmares of the killed beings hunting you may occur a few times a month

@1969chevycamaro @whereserpentswalk @everythingismadeofchaos @trashsouppossum @techiekittie @your-average-toast-enjoyer @ononpetitecroissant @polkadotsunshine @ana-isnt-dead @sentient-marshmallow-woman @doyoudreamofwater @dackychansworldofhoshino @dh-ng @decoysender @foxundermoon @frozen-antifreeze @gloriousvermin @kinkshame-puncher-666 @kirkland-brand-witch @leavesswaytoday @mmmmmmky @mun-urufu @moonsfavoritedaughter

#polls #my polls #poll time #random polls #tumblr polls #poll #magical items #magic items #magic weapon #magic weapons

22 notes · View notes