#he better make it into battle tendency is all i say or there will be words

[paperstarwriters]

to Hear, to Feel, to Know

Inspired by @muletia’s Obsessed Optimus fanfics—they just so so so so good!! The yearning, the ill-buried desire, Optimus chaining himself in place like some dog with a biting problem when all he wants to do is love you???? OUAGH so so good!!

Asdfghjkl I wanna try my own hand at a fic looking at Optimus’s tendency towards obsession in love, but for now, I’ve been thinking about Optimus as a bot who tends to listen….

Pairing: Optimus Prime x Reader

Warnings: n/a

Summary: Optimus is a bot who's exceptionally good at listening. What he likes listening to most of all though, is you.

Masterlist | Transformers Masterlist

Word count: 1,106

───♡-♥-♡-♥-♡-♥-♡───

There was no denying that Optimus had a keen eye, and an even keener attention. His ability to promptly decipher texts based on key words or phrases allowing him to understand the greater picture from his days as an archivist served to train him well in noticing patterns of behaviour if he focused his attention on it. The ongoing war certainly helped as well, forcing him to zero in on what would allow them to survive. Forcefully training his eye to fall to keep points in any battle field.

And yet as trained as his eyes were, Optimus was always keen to listen.

Or perhaps absorbing was a better comparison. How despite being a leader, despite giving commands, Optimus was almost always better suited to listening to the people around him. The information that they shared, the feelings they expressed. Ratchet always used to say he would make for a much kinder medic than he if he took a role in that field. Perhaps it could have served him even better as a leader, but there was little he could change through the tides of time.

It’s why he clings to these things, saving them in the event that one day they may save him. From another attack or another encounter with Megatron, to even a stretch of boredom or loneliness.

It is why he clings to your every word.

Why he loves it when you sit atop his shoulder. So close to his helm, it is as if you’re speaking directly into his processor, filling his thoughts with your words—your delights, your frustrations, your sorrows, your needs. A direct feed like some constant supply of energon into his lines.

Both, he supposed would make his spark stutter a bit.

Ah, just thinking about it brings to mind the many times you’ve pressed yourself against his audial, leaning against his helm or purposely cupping his audials as you whispered sweet words his way, words for him and him alone, a gift sweeter than any energon could ever be.

You didn’t even have to be saying something sweet. Scathing secrets and vicious critiques against some other’s back from the mistreatment you received in the hands of a cruel stranger or an even crueler co-worker, or even some coy remark against a teammate, the fact that you chose to whisper your words to him—to confide your secrets and burning emotions to his audials.

Even being chosen as a Prime was a lesser honour than this.

But perhaps the thing he enjoys listening to most, though your every word delights him and your laughter makes his spark feel so light it might burst from his chest, the sound Optimus likes best it’s the soft thud of your heartbeat and the whisper of your breath.

He recalls when he first heard the sound, mass displaced at your request as you showed to him your beating heart after he showed you his whirring spark.

There is meaning to the action, to show one’s spark to the other, but Optimus felt he need not explain it to you, knowing full well you wouldn’t be able to return the gesture.

And yet somehow you did.

Even if you could not pull back the viscera from your chest the way he did the plates of his chassis, you brought his helm to your chest, pressed his audial against you, and implored him to listen.

And he did.

In the caverns of your chest, Optimus heard as air filled your lungs, swelling with every breath you took, and for a moment he mistook that steady beat for an abnormal twitch, until you began to explain.

“That’s my heart.” You had told him. “The ‘thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud’.”

And pressing just a bit harder, Optimus stilled his fans to listen to the faint beat.

And he heard it.

Loud against his audial the drum of your heart pounded against your chest like an insistent knock, or the demands of a captive begging to be freed.

Though perhaps that’s just wistful thinking.

He hears it in his full form sometimes, when you lean your back against his helm or when you cling to his audial in a moment of fear or excitement. A gentle faint rhythm, that sings that you’re alive.

He wishes some days that it would accompany him in his berth, as he lies under the midnight silence hounded by the whispers and wails of the dead of the living he must fight, of the humans he’d never know. They all rattle and sob frying his processor as he starves himself of a proper recharge, but then, some days he hears something this in the base. Perhaps it’s his own movement, perhaps something falls—once even it was the rumble and stroke of thunder and lightning overhead. All the same, it brings to his mind the thump of your heartbeat, and like a spring being unwound, he replays your words in his head. Every praise, every sweet word, every secret you’d give him. Your smile your laughter, your delight and glee he’d play them all over and over in his processor, lingering on the compliments you’d direct his way, every smile you’d make when your eyes met his.

All with the background theme of your heart singing its little song of life, your every breath an instrument to the symphony.

You were here, you were alive, you were with him.

Ah, but sometimes those moments stung worse than the wailing dead.

You were not here with him now, and all he had was the echo of your heartbeat. If he could hum its melody he would, but the sound doesn't comply with his voice box. Still he taps it out with a digit sometimes or a pede even, a little reminder of a precious tune.

He hasn’t had the chance to listen to your heart again. To mass displace and press his head against your chest, to listen to that sound, and maybe listen to you speak as he follows the gentle beat. He hopes one day he might get the chance. He hopes one day to tell you what it means when one shows the other their spark.

One day, he dreams, he’d tell you what it meant, and you’d smile, perhaps in rapt delight, perhaps shyly, but you’d open your arms to him and allow him to listen once more, let him listen as he lets you watch his glowing spark.

Until then, he basks in what he can get, faint as it is against his full form, listening to the soft beat of your heart, feeling you warm and pressed against him, resting assured in the knowledge that you were here, you were alive.

[cruelsister-moved2]

that thread i rbed like ages ago about men's urge to disagree/object to/obstruct women for no reason has seriously reset my brain its so crazy but i think actually one of the rare things that actually might represent a way forward for how men engage with women. like there's always going to be the rightwing ardent misogynists who don't care that they're doing this but for all the men in the middle that do on some level want to be better it represents 1. fairly confronting evidence that your position in the patriarchy actually affects how you relate to women much more than you realise it does even if you think of yourself as self-aware and 2. a genuine example of something that makes us all suffer because the fact you niggle on every single issue like what flavour of ice cream to buy is unhealthy for relationships (of any kind) AND introduces unnecessary amount of background strain to your life for no real gain. maybe im being an idealist but i love the idea of a man experiencing a certain amount of horror upon recognition of this as a catalyst to other more meaningful recognitions and changes both in how he evaluates the competence of women but also in recognition of the subjectivity of he perceives things i.e i think one of the biggest barriers to confronting the housework gap is often that men don't SEE how much women are doing and also don't SEE things that need to be done, to the extent that ive seen men argue that the solution is just for women to not care about being surrounded by mess. anyway no conclusion but i cant stop thinking about that thread both super horrifyingand also kind of hopeful

[relicfragment]

the thing a lot of adaptations of part 1 fail to realize is that straizo, dire, and speedwagon need to be there. The musical is much better about the latter, but the former 2 characters were not only Not in the phantom blood movie, but also aren't in the musical while characters like tattoo and kempo fighter are :/

Speedwagon has to be in any adaptation no matter what, otherwise future parts make no fucking sense. The speedwagon foundation would become some strange supernatural organization instead, and not the love letter to his departed friend's ( read: lost love's ) family it really is. I will argue for tattoo and kempo's inclusion because it humanizes speedwagon on ogre street-- he has people he cares about. He isn't just a street thug mugging you. He holds allies, respect, and honor. His word is law in the world of crime.

Straizo is another case of being deceptively important. You can see from the storyboards of the appp battle tendency movie that he was, in fact, included as the starter villain. Him and Dire, and even Tonpetty's existence, all humanize Zeppeli. They give him connections. Zeppeli didn't just leave Jonathan and Speedwagon and Poco behind, he left behind his closest friends to chase his future. He left behind a wife. He left behind a son. He did this for the good of the world to start the chain reaction that would kill Dio for good. Straizo being there is a GOOD thing. You're also telling me that Speedwagon alone can protect Poco and his sister from a horde of zombies??? He can only swing his sledgehammer so fast!! It also leads into part 2. Straizo adopts Lisa Lisa, who in turn goes to train Joseph against the Pillar Men. Does Erina in this adaptation adopt her herself??? Does she still get with george??? That shit's weird as hell! Without Straizo being in part 1, his relationship with the main cast and his betrayal have no weight. Is this just a random monk that Speedwagon went on an expedition with? There's no history between them! Fuck, even Dire served a purpose to show how powerful Dio was, able to freeze over and shatter a hamon warrior that had been training as long as Zeppeli, if not longer!

You can make an excuse for Tonpetty not being involved, however. His impact on the plot is very minor, and relegated to backstory. The fact he was present was always strange-- y'all deadass brought an old man to fight vampires??? Ok sure! But it would have made sense if he sent his best students in his stead ykwim?

[jiminrings]

if-then

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 7k

glimpse: you're an alien in prince jungkook's planet — both literally and figuratively.

alternatively, jungkook gives his nickname for you to someone else in a fit of anger, and you've never been more upset.

[ fluff, angst, painfully oblivious n dense alien koo, mutual pining (yes MUTUAL!!!!), the glaring concept of not being good n whole enough to deserve love (yikes but i Swear it gets better), mentions of injuries ]

notes: after being asked for literal years to write an alien au, it's finally here!!!! mwah thank u for patiently waiting :D

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Jungkook’s fond of appraising things.

He’s fond of assigning values to things that may or may not hold some bit of importance to his life, whether its value proves itself in the present or the future. Jungkook likes setting his literal ducks in a row, and the little inanimate yellow tokens that his brother brought back from Earth serve as a discreet (not really, though) reminder that he may have some hoarder tendencies.

Jungkook’s not really a hoarder-hoarder; it just happens that he likes keeping things, sometimes for no apparent reason at all.

He likes swiping the flashlights that the night guards use to stash in his own personal “emergency” (not that there’s ever been one, nor will there ever be) cabinet, just because he wants to be prepared for a natural catastrophe that won’t probably ever happen in his area. He’s already seen a couple of films that humans have made, and if ever comes a time that Planet Twell has a dinosaurian monster battle it out with a gigantic prehistoric ape, Jungkook’s proud to say that he has a couple flashlights for him and his brothers to use.

In addition, Jungkook likes picking flowers just before they go out of season. His eldest brother’s already cussed him out for it, but he’ll still do what he does best (?), if best means “preserving” the flowers by drowning them in water every ten minutes so they wouldn’t wilt and he’d still get to see them during off-peak days.

Prince Jungkook likes appraising things in his own definition and pace. They’re never categorized in his head for what they actually do, but for what kind of unexplainable fulfillment fills his chest whenever he thinks about the item.

The youngest prince of Twell didn’t like it when there was a commotion at the lily field and the citizens ran out to see what it was about, instead of eating their slices of cake with the fondant that he made out of scratch. Jungkook didn’t like the fondant either because there must be something insanely wrong with itself (or it’s just that he made it just as bad), but he didn’t like being alone either when finding out about the taste.

He didn’t like seeing the tiger lilies he planted himself squished underneath an unknown figure, who may or may not have fallen from the sky, judging by the way you’re wincing alone with no aircraft, no parachute, nor any other person with you.

Jungkook didn’t like seeing you, an alien, who’s just as confused with the entire ordeal. You can’t remember anything about how or why you’ve gotten here — all you know is your name and who you are, and unexpectedly so, the first prince who’s gotten to where you are isn’t so thrilled about the fact.

He’s fond of appraising things, and although he’s not extremely excited about you just as he had been when Yoongi brought home trinkets from him during his trip to Earth (including the very seeds for the tiger lilies you’ve destroyed), he’ll make do.

Jungkook will try and make you mean something, if not everything, to him.

.

.

.

Prince Jungkook has come to learn that you’re part human.

You’re neither fully his kind nor his type (or atleast that’s what he thinks so) and he doesn’t know what to feel about that. He doesn’t know what to feel about only the slight panic that filled you knowing that it’s still unexplained of how or why you’re in Twell; even more, he doesn’t know what to feel that you’re neither scared nor intimidated by him.

You don’t know what to feel either when Jungkook, who’s only mildly shocked about your existence in general, delivers his first question to you and it’s not of the sort that you expected. He looks soft and round, unlike the hearsay about his kind that only amounts to half of you. He doesn’t look aloof and unaccepting at all — if anything, he looks at you like you’re the one who’s cruel instead of him.

Jungkook almost completely does not care about who you are or where you’re from, but what he cares about is if you have any trinkets with you that he could possibly have. Out of anything he could possibly solicit from you, he only asks for so little, no matter how odd.

“T-trinkets?” you squeak, brows raising in surprise. “I’m sorry, Prince Jungkook — y-you’re asking if I have trinkets so you could have them?”

“Yeah,” he nods, lips pursed and cheeks puffed out as he confirms your confusion. “It’s my birthday, and I want to have a trinket.”

“Oh,” you blink once, twice,  a small smile playing on your lips to replace the fact that you’ve been confused for the entire half hour since you came back to consciousness. “Happy birthday, prince.”

“I see.” 

“It’s thank you,” you mutter automatically, coughing lightly when he only knits his brows at you. He’s cute this way — innocent, even. “I-I mean you’re supposed to say thank you when someone greets you, or when someone does something nice for you in general.”

“Okay. My brother forgot to teach me that,” Jungkook hums in recognition, eyes briefly glowing with a bluish hue before he regains his composure. “Thank you.”

You wonder if staring is also frowned upon in this planet.

You wonder if it would get you a mean glare or a sarcastic snicker if you were to stare at Prince Jungkook a little longer without any thoughts floating in your brain, except for the fact that you are completely unaware that you’re already zoning out on him. 

You wonder if it would be wrong for your eyes to take in every single detail of him from his short hair that softly falls onto his forehead, to his supposed birthday attire that only consists of a white button-up, to his gleaming royal jewelry that rightfully so, only looks like it would belong to him and him only.

“Trinket?” he reminds you, head tilting and eyes widening as he cranes his neck to look at you beyond the table that separates the both of you.

“Oh! U-uhm,” you scour your pockets immediately just to present something, and bluntly put, you haven’t even checked your well-being, much less the possessions you have on yourself. You feel more than relieved to know that it isn’t empty, because oddly enough, you’d feel a little upset— a little down if you were to disappoint a prince you just met not more than an hour ago. “I have this handkerchief, I guess.”

“Perfect!” Jungkook exclaims, leaning to grab the baby blue square from you that’s embroidered with your initials that are unfamiliar to him. He clutches it into his hand tightly with a smile on his face, the happiness later dwindling when he realizes he has no clue of what he’s holding. “What is it supposed to do?”

You blank at that, meekly scratching your temple. “Nothing, I think. It’s just there for most people, but I’ve never had to use it.”

“You’ve never had to use it, but you still take it with you?” he attempts to clarify, a slight frown embedded into his lips as he looks down on your averagely prized possession.

“I don’t mean never as in never ever, and I’ve used it a couple of times like everyone else does, but it’s just-…” you trail off, shrugging helplessly because you can’t describe the concept of nothing to him easily. “It’s just there.”

You’re more than fatigued and a lot more confused (albeit less worried) about the semantics of your presence here in Twell, specifically in Prince Jungkook’s office, but the latter doesn’t seem to take mind as he takes you with an open mind.

“Okay. Thank you. I’ll have it,” he announces, shifting his eyes between you and your (his now) handkerchief that he’s slowly and hesitantly unraveling, only to put back into its original square form after every move.

“You will?” you almost snort, a tiny bit amused that a prince is clenching your handkerchief like its the most interesting thing in the galaxy.

“Yes,” he hums distractedly, looking up at you as he lightly scratches the embroidered teddy bear at the corner of the fold. “I will have you too.”

“You will?! You’re not going to dispose me or anything?” you straighten immediately, eyes more frantic and disbelieving to hear that you’re being taken care of (or something of the sort) than just awhile ago when you were unsure of your fate. “Why?”

“Don’t know,” Jungkook shrugs just as easily as you do. “I just want to.”

( ♡ ) 

Prince Jungkook isn’t so bad, and neither is Twell.

The planet isn’t so bad in the sense that although you don’t feel the most welcome you have ever been in your entire life, there’s a recognition that seeps into your bones that some of them, if not most, would set out a plate for you if ever Jungkook came into their homes. He’s the social butterfly of his family; the baby lamb that’s set out into the field to check up on everyone else and act as a mannequin of sorts that’s a little less superficial, and a little more warm.

Jungkook isn’t so bad either in the sense that although it’s the bare minimum to do so, he doesn’t throw his kindness back to your face even in the most critical situations, with now being the sole exception.

With the exception of now, Prince Jungkook has not ever acted rashly towards you. He wasn’t annoyed with you when you kept asking him questions of what it would mean to act as his security detail, and he wasn’t irked either when your questions about your heritage (and his by extension) toed personal lines that no one else would dare cross.

With the exception of now, Jungkook’s never acted rude towards you. He wasn’t as guarded with your existence like his older brothers were; as a matter of fact, he even came to your defense when some of them theorized that you were only here in their planet to act as a precursor for their downfall.

With the exception of now, Jungkook’s never been this cruel; with the ultimatum of his pride over your heart, he’s never made you feel this different and alienated from him — with, of course, the exception of now.

Heartbreak is a human emotion.

The weakness of the concept is disturbingly human and vulnerable. There’s no escape from it, even if the said percentage of human in your blood is barely half and could light a candle to your more evolved, far more powerful Twellian genes. It’s a sickening emotion to feel, much more have it get you carried away from what you have to do at hand.

The grip that said heartbreakhas on you is unimaginable, far more different than what your people, not humans, tell you how it’d feel like. There had already been an uproar when it was announced that you were appointed as Prince Jungkook’s guard, the news of an impure Twellian bearing the coveted position receiving every reaction possible — from fear, to distaste, and even to genuine amazement.

All of the kingdom’s advisers had theorized that despite you of being impure heritage, youwere superior in terms of physical capabilities. With everything else you’ve been theorized to lack at, you bite at the possibility that the ache in your chest is attributed to your stunted emotions.

You feel painfully human. You feel what heartbreak is, and compared to what others have made it out to be, it’s an emotion that you can’t put into words.

“You can’t, Jungkook,” you firmly say once more with your ears ringing, not because the volume of the club makes you want to get down on your knees, but because you’ve perhaps heard something far worse; far more grating, and far more overwhelming than what your heart could even bear. "All of your brothers specifically insisted for me to bring you back before midnight."

They say that your hearing’s supposed to be better. They say that you could see far more colors than what your alien counterpart could ever do. They say that for everything else you lacked, you made up for with the way you’re more physically advanced and therefore adept to protecting the planet’s youngest prince.

No one’s ever said that you’ll be safe from Jungkook himself.

"Jungkook, let's go home. Please," you plead through your teeth, the word you’ve last spoken being the latest term you’ve taught him. Jungkook, along with everyone else, is not familiar with begging; they’re not familiar with desperation so wrung out, there’s actually a word made just for it.

Jungkook only scowls at you, eyes turning a bright red as opposed to his usual pink allotted for you. "Butt out," he murmurs, tightly crossing his arms as his nostrils flare involuntarily. ”You promised me I could be out tonight."

You’re starting to get over the heartbreak little by little, the tantrum thrown by the young prince making you indifferent. 

Maybe you just misheard a few minutes ago — maybe, it was only a fluke and you didn’t hear it correctly the first time. Maybe it’s only your faulty impureness that made you susceptible to just hearing your nickname out of nowhere. Maybe, it’s not heartbreak that you were feeling, but rather only a subdued version of it by seeing Jungkook disappointed at you doing your job.

It’s your fault, you guess. Perhaps it’s the fault of the bustle of the club and the hundreds of dialects you could hear all at once finally got to you, overwhelming you to the point that you heard Jungkook calling for your name, despite not looking at you all.

You’re about to plead even more for the both of you to go back already; to save him from a lecture from all of his brothers and for you to be spared an even harsher scolding because they think you’ve gone too soft for him — but then you hear it. Again. 

Jungkook clenches his jaw tightly, eyes glowing a bright magenta before he opens his mouth.

"Come on, princess," he calls you by his term of endearment for you, yet his hand is outstretched for the female Twellian on his side.

He’s not calling you — he’s not even paying attention to you. Jungkook isn’t giving you a shred of his focus but he wants you to hear him call someone else the endearment he had playfully made up for you, to which you grew accustomed to without fail. He wants you to see how he gives it to someone else easily, the syllables falling from his tongue easily getting into the girl’s head.

Jungkook wants you to know how angry he is over you doing your job, he hits you where it hurts. He has no idea what heartbreak is supposed to feel like, but he doubts that you’d even feel that emotion over what he’s done — and if you actually do over something seemingly simple (for him atleast), he could only think that everyone else is exaggerating what it felt like.

Your heart, whatever is human of it, skips. It tightens and it loosens alarmingly so, almost as if you have no control for the liquid hurt that compromises you.

“I’ll show you a good time tonight, princess,” Jungkook whispers to her ear loudly for good measure, eyes darting up at you, only for him to see that you’ve been watching the whole time. 

You almost can’t tear your eyes away until Jungkook crashes his lips into hers, your nickname easily falling out of his lips as if the endearment is free for everyone; as if it’s never been yours in the first place and you only borrowed it out of desperation.

Your whole flight home is quiet.

Jungkook makes it back home before midnight, but you don’t.

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook’s been looking for you the whole day.

He’s been looking for you since he woke up, and that was fifteen ungodly hours ago when he had risen in a cold sweat. Jungkook felt sick to his stomach, and despite his insistence that something must be severely wrong with him for him to feel that way, the palace doctor (along with every other physician, healer, and reader he knew of) confirmed that nothing was out of place.

Jungkook’s supposedly okay, yet it feels like every part of him is being wrung dry. There’s an ache to his chest that renders him stupid because he feels like he’s forgotten every word, every lesson, and every vaguest bit of semblance that would detail about what he felt.

All of a sudden, Jungkook feels like he’s forgotten what the palace looks like. It’s as if he’s forgotten how tiles are supposed to feel cold on bare feet and how bleak his days are when he doesn’t have you by his side, even if the palace is also occupied by his brothers and the grounds are teeming with staff.

The young prince suddenly feels that he’s forgotten the very layout of his home because his mouth is agape at each room he walks in, simply because you’re not there. He’s practically turned the palace upside down just to grab a whiff of you somehow, and yet you’re nowhere to be found. 

Nothing from his or his brothers’ belongings are missing. There’s not a single piece of furniture that’s tilted askew. Nothing has been taken from Jungkook except his peace of mind and the capacity to just stay still because your sudden disappearance unsettles him like no other.

.

.

.

You’re back home, except you’re no longer dressed in the same outfit you left him in. 

Your uniform’s been ditched for something more casual — something more worn and lived in to the point that it looks like a shirt that’s never been yours in the first place. The sight of you, dressed in clothes that’s not yours, puts a bitter taste to Jungkook’s mouth.

He’s never been that selfish before. He’s generous and lenient as far as a prince could go, and yet he’s never felt this territorial over something seemingly as trivial as a shared garment.

The concern feels too vulnerable to the point that only a silly human, something Jungkook’s not, would consider it as a burden.

“Where were you?” he asks with the gentleness he didn’t think he’d possess after being worried shitless about you, the panic he had harbored for the longest time immediately dissipating at you.

Jungkook wants to be mad at you so, so, so badly. He wants to be angry at the way it was irresponsible for you to be alone because after all, your strength wouldn’t compensate for the gleaming fact that you’re not from here in the first place.

“I was on my leave,” you answer simply, keeping your hands behind your back as if this was any other outing with Prince Jungkook and not just Jungkook, the same man who’d call you princess for fun and hold your hand just for the sake of it.

“I didn’t say you could be on leave,” he lowers his voice, jaw tightening at the sight of you being indifferent towards him.

“I asked your brothers.”

Jungkook feels that sickness again. He feels that tinge of metal that lingers in the roof of his mouth and he wants to spit it out in front of you just to see if he’d find something else that’s not the sensations he’s been experiencing since you came around; if he’d find something else that’s not your doing yet affects him just as much.

“What if I needed protecting, hm? What if something happened to me while you were gone?” Jungkook half-taunts, shrinking on himself despite doing his hardest to appear big by crossing his arms.

“I knew you were in good hands, prince,” you tense, the tide that comes with your tone washing over Jungkook until he drowns in the realization that you were there while she was in his quarters. “I made to sure to hear that you were in very good company before I left.”

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook’s on a self-imposed break from his duties.

The prince’s duties almost exclusively involved chatting and being charismatic in general, along with the occasional goodwill event wherein he had to be all over the place just to take care of things, and not once did he ever take this long of a radio silent break — or atleast that’s what one of his brothers said.

He’s been cooped up in his room since you came back two weeks ago. Despite your absence (if you could even call it that) that barely lasted for an entire day, along with your confrontation just spanning within minutes, it’s been theorized by one of Jungkook’s brothers, again, that it’s because of your doing.

The youngest prince is theorized to be sulking over you and you simply cannot believe it.

You refuse to believe that Jungkook is bedridden with sadness because to begin with, his kind isn’t even supposed to feel such type of intense emotion. He shouldn’t be swayed by you — he shouldn’t be preoccupied with such pathetic, human emotion that you thought only you could feel because of him.

You rebuff the idea that he’s paralyzed with guilt, not only because you feel that it’s physically impossible for him to be, but because it’s him. Someone of Jungkook’s power and influence wouldn’t be so ridden with guilt that he refuses to show his face to you because he’s ashamed of hurting you.

You reject with your whole heart each and every idea that his brothers pitch you. You stay stationary with Jungkook and yet you will yourself to amount to something, even if it isn’t for him, just so the sickening feeling of being replaced won’t ever creep up to you.

You’re in love with him and it’s terrifying.

What’s even more terrifying is that you’re not the only one who knows so.

“I suggest not falling in love with Jungkook.”

You look up so sharply, your neck aches at the speed. Yoongi stands above you with a perfunctory smile, and with just the tiny bit of effort for him to come near you almost makes you forget that he’s Jungkook’s brother who had been particularly vocal about being wary of you.

“I’m sorry?” you murmur in disbelief, eyes wide and unblinking as you take into account his perfect tone.

“It’s obvious, you know?” he smiles tightly, pulling a chair to sit himself down across from you. Yoongi looks relaxed as he takes you in, almost as if he hasn’t spent half a year avoiding you. “I’ve seen the way you look at my brother. I’ve seen it over and over again when I was sent for a mission on your planet.”

You want to ask him why he’s telling you this. You want to ask badly why he’s saying this now when you’ve been certain for the longest time that your adoration for Jungkook wasn’t apparent in a land of creatures that don’t know what love, in your own terms, is supposed to look like.

You want to ask Yoongi why it shouldn’t be Jungkook, but you can’t bring yourself to — not because you know the answer deep down in your subconscious, but because you’re afraid that he would only make sense—

That he’d only solidify why Jungkook should never be in your orbit.

“Oh,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “How do you like my planet then?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“I’m sorry, my prince,” you immediately apologize, looking down on your lap as you wait for the impeding lecture; maybe even the impending punishment (you’re not sure what it is, but you know it would hurt someway and somehow) that comes with loving the prince, even by the sidelines.

“Jungkook is a wildcard at best,” he trails off, exhaling heavily as he listens for the heartbeat in the room behind you that houses his brother. “He’s brash and stubborn. He’s driven by emotions we are not even supposed to have.”

If Yoongi stands up now and jiggles the knob to Jungkook’s room with just the slightest bit of force, he can guarantee that the latter would be falling face-down to the floor, just because of the way he has his ears pressed to the door.

Jungkook is moping and sulking and to this day, he does remain miserable — the aforementioned factors don’t stop him from being desperate and nosy.

“What I’m saying is that he’s weak, Y/N,” Yoongi sighs. “The strong isn’t for the weak. That’s always been the case.”

“I know I’m weak, prince, but I-…”

“What?” the prince laughs out loud, the smile on his face wide and cheery. He’s so amused with you that his eyes glow into pink, throwing his head back as he regains his composure. “Jungkook’s the weak one. Not you, obviously,” he snorts. “He’s basically a loser with a crown on his head. He’s the one who doesn’t deserve you and not the other way around.”

You’re not the one who’s being insulted, and yet it feels like it. Your throat tingles and your ribs burn at the sudden urge for you to protect Jungkook, even if he’s in no real threat; even if it feels like all the baser parts of you are coming together just to make sense of the way you grow simultaneously weak and strong for him.

Jungkook, the actual subject who’s being insulted and is proving his brother right by being weak because he’s wallowing in his room out of self-deprecation, sadly hums to himself in agreement.

“I’m not-…”

“Don’t refute it — that’s an order.”

“Prince Yoongi,” you relent, trying to find the right words. “May I ask why you’re telling me this?”

“Because Jungkook’s weak,” Yoongi answers simply. “I’m just saying that you don’t have to be weak with him and for him.”

( ♡ ) 

You’re eating dinner by yourself in the staff room when Jungkook walks in.

It’s the first you’ve seen of him in three weeks. He’s evidently moving on from what seems to have been a rough period for him, right when you’re at your lowest that you’ve ever been.

Prince Jungkook decides that after three weeks, he should take you by surprise and meet you in the staff room wherein you’re alone, pushing your dinner around your plate instead of doing any other menial task you’ve assigned yourself just so it would feel like you’re in use.

You’re just there. You just happen to be there and no one, even you, could do anything about it. You just happen to be there with no exact purpose and it’s gnawing at you from the inside out.

It feels all over again that your family is the runt of the entire extended bloodline. It feels that you’re not remarkable enough for your relatives to surround you and that you don’t amount to anything enough, in whatever aspect it is, to get a shred of attention that isn’t pity,

It feels like the sinking sensation in your chest wherein you have to see that all your mom could contribute to the table is her trusted homemade recipe during holidays, lost amongst a sea full of pre-ordered meals that only your relatives could afford. Like it’s how your dad’s side of the family is borderline batshit crazy and he’s the only one that turned out to be good, and you can’t do anything but watch strangers your have for blood relatives belittle you. Familiarly so, it’s like you’re a kid again with your siblings sitting on the carpet and cleaning up wrapping paper from gifts, not because the gifts are for you, but because you just happen to be there.

You feel like the alien that you are wherein you don’t belong; wherein your family has to sit on the spare chairs dug up from the basement, situated on a portable table outside of the actual, solid dining table where everyone’s sat. 

Jungkook sits with you at that dusty, old portable table. He sits himself on the flimsy chair that’s only used for stepping and for laundry.

Jungkook sits with you, not because he just happens to be there, but because he’s there for you.

“I’m… sorry for calling someone else princess.”

“It’s no problem,” you murmur, putting your fork down as you keep your hands glued to your knees underneath the table.

“But there is a problem,” Jungkook counters, lowering his head to get you to look at him yet you don’t budge. “I’m not okay with calling anyone else princess other than you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“Then suit yourself,” you quip, even with your voice shaky and your vision blurry.

“I’m-…” Jungkook starts again, racking his brain for the limited vocabulary he has that surely isn’t enough to make up for his grave msitake. “I’m very sorry for making you feel bad. It must have hurt.”

“It’s no problem.”

“There’s a problem,” he insists. “I’m saying sorry because I hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me.”

“But I did,” he frowns, beyond confused to why you keep denying the fact that he’s hurt you in ways he can’t even imagine.

“You really didn’t.”

“Why do you not want me to say sorry?” Jungkook questions, voice raising yet he still looks confused— innocent, even. “Did I… hurt you that much?”

It’s the last straw for you. The pure innocence in Jungkook’s words is and should be the last straw for you because it only makes you realize that he’d never understand you. It resonates in your head, more than ever, that you’ll never be able to understand him fully either because you’ll never be the same.

The only option the universe provides you is for you to love Jungkook halfway.

“You’ll have to excuse me, Prince Jungkook. I shall go back to-…”

“Can I not say sorry to you?” Jungkook bursts, darting his hand out blindly to get a hold on you before you leave.

“You can’t say sorry to me because all of this would feel real,” you ramble, shaking your head vehemently. “You should not say sorry to me because that would mean that I’m hurt because I love you.”

Jungkook looks at you innocently with his eyes wide and lips parted, blissfully unaware of the name to the sensation that keeps tugging at his chest to the point that it feels like it would burst open, yet above all else, he still dives in head-first.

“Can you not love me, princess?” he tilts his head. “Is it not allowed?”

( ♡ ) 

Yoongi’s words lie heavily on both you and Jungkook.

The prince’s sentiment stays on your chest like a paperweight that only grows heavier the more that you try to push it off. You know Yoongi means well, no matter how his words come across otherwise, but the longer that you think about his own suggestion regarding his brother, the more you feel unsure.

Jungkook’s made complete sense of his brother’s words on the other hand, and instead of being filled with a type of rage that only bubbles up when being looked down on, oddly enough, he comes to the truth quite easily.

He knows the truth that he’s weak despite painting himself the opposite, and he feels it the most now that you’re the one who’s distancing yourself from him. Jungkook feels like swallowing the sun and chasing it down with water when you respond to princess, even if it’s jokingly uttered by his brothers and not said sincerely by him alone.

He knows the truth that he’s the weak one in the family, if not the weakest, whenever he stands next to them. Jungkook may be the poster prince for the citizens but he knows the most out of everyone that he’s not as vital to the kingdom as the others are. He may get an assigned seat at the actual, solid dining table, but he knows that he’s not at the head of it.

He knows he’s weak, with and for you, and that’s never bothered him until it actually did.

Jungkook’s eyesight isn’t as good as yours.

Unlike you, he’s restrained by the entirety of his Twellian blood from immediately focusing his gaze on anything. There’s a lag that registers whenever he fixes his sight on anything, just like everyone else but you, and that hadn’t been a bother to Jungkook the whole time.

He had falsely assumed that since you’re the only one who’s different here, the only exception in the planet by being impure and partially human, you’d be the one who’ll have a hard time adjusting your daily life to his — not the other way around.

Jungkook, who had not once ever felt insecurity before, suddenly feels inferior. He feels like dirt and yet he’s angry, not because of the fact that he comes second to your abilities, but because he can’t do shit when it comes to you.

The prince’s eyesight isn’t good enough to notice the tiny little expressions that litter your face whenever something remotely intriguing happens to you. His hearing isn’t on par with yours because he can’t register the laugh in your voice as quickly as you could recognize his. He’s not on the same level as you and it’s only now that it bothers him—

The realization creeps into Jungkook, slowly yet unsettlingly, when he sees the cut on your cheek; the liquor of inferiority, chased down by Jungkook’s own rage, only hits him the moment he sees that a nasty bruise is blossoming by the corner of your eye.

Jungkook grips your jaw lightly out of nowhere, making you look up at him unexpectedly when you had been only preoccupied with fixing him his drink. The prince, no matter the unmistakeable rage that’s brewing in red, is the softest he’s ever been when it comes to addressing you.

“Who hurt you?” 

He has all his attention on you and it’s almost sickening with the way he doesn’t want to break off. Jungkook’s hand is still on your jaw and his eyes are still fixed on yours and yet his mind, whatever remains rational of it and not just vengeful, is going a million miles per hour.

“Get your hands off me,” you spit, suddenly overwhelmed by his presence and the vitriol that spills out of him so clearly, the air around both of you shifts.

“I asked you a question,”Jungkook repeats, putting is hand on your wrist firmly instead. He makes the grave mistake of looking down, though, because as soon as he realizes that there’s blood caked underneath your nails and that your knuckles are stained with your own blood, Jungkook can no longer hold himself back. “Who. Hurt. You.”

Jungkook’s reflexes are slow, but the moment your bottom lip trembles in vulnerability and pure bitterness, he feels as if time has caught on to the point that it’s only your anguish that sharpens his senses.

His feelings, even.

“If I tell you, would it make a difference? If I’m considered weak, Jungkook, then that means you’re even weaker,” you scoff, eyes trained on the ground with your head low so you could muffle the tremble in your voice; not that it would make your prince any less attuned to you.

Jungkook’s eyes remain narrowed at you, breathing heavily as you only state the facts not to insult him, but to remind the both of you of your place — or whatever is left clear of it because Jungkook can’t even think straight the longer that he looks at you hurting.

“What, prince? What are you gonna do about it?” you spit as the last resort, standing up abruptly to storm off and make an escape for it just once so you’ll be free of the burden of being yourself in Jungkook’s existence, yet he doesn’t let you.

The grip that the prince has on your arm is unstable yet unyielding at the same time, as if it’s taking everything in Jungkook to remain standing despite wanting to hunch over by the unexplainable tremor that roots from his chest.

(It is taking everything in him.)

“Burn,” he utters. “I’ll burn everything.”

“You’re-…”

“Weaker than you? I know that,” Jungkook interrupts, his lips set in a straight line as he lets himself be swept by the current that is you. “All the more reason to do everything for you then.”

The young prince doesn’t even break his gaze from you once, even if his pupils are trembling and his teeth are chattering out of the sheer trepidation that comes with being scared for someone else who carries your heart with them.

He doesn’t break his gaze from you, even for the briefest second, as he fishes out his (your) handkerchief from his pocket that’s there, not because it just happens to be, but because it’s allotted for you.

To love and to be loved is to feel the sun from both sides, and Jungkook no longer wants the star to swallow him whole because he doesn’t want you to be burned.

Jungkook wants to love you all the way.

[dotster001]

What kind of parents are they?

Requested by @stygianoir

A/N: as per usual with these long ones, staff and non NRC will be a separate post that I someday make

CW:raising kids, but gn. No talk of whether birthed or adopted

3k follower masterlist

Riddle Rosehearts

1 kid

Riddle is a learn as you go kind of parent. Breaking the chain is hard. It takes generations. He knows that, so was always hesitant to ever raise kids. But with you he thinks he can speed up the process. He is a little strict, you can't win every battle, but he's much more understanding. And that's the difference between him and his mother. If he makes a mistake, or upsets your child, he takes the time to understand and grow from it.

Trey Clover

3-8 kids

He's a jovial father. He's calm but everyone can see he's just so happy to have this life. He's the kind who will quietly sit with the kids to help them with homework, boop their noses with chocolate frosting, tell the worst dad jokes ever that make them laugh so hard they pee, and tucks them in snuggly so "the monsters can't reach them". A soft man, who when he passes, the kids will always remember dad as someone who had a smile for everyone.

Cater Diamond

0-2 kids

Honestly, Cay Cay is one of the ones who if you wanted to have kids, you'd have to try hard to convince him. But for the sake of these HC's, we'll ignore the 0. In all honestly, he starts out incredibly scared and tense. He's worry he'll break the kids. But he slowly gets over it, and becomes the cool dad. The dilf at pta meetings His holiday cards are always the best, he sets up a haunted house for the neighborhood during Halloween, puts on a light show during the winter, dresses the kids in modern fashion…a lot of parents are so jealous. They wouldn't be so jealous if they knew the literal blood sweat and tears he puts into it all though. You need to tell him to calm down from time to time.

Ace Trappolla

2-5 kids

Hybrid of cool dad, and concerning dad. He'll let the kids do pretty much whatever they want, as long as they don't disrespect you. Sure you and your friends can go snowboarding, but your room better be fucking spotless, or you'll be praying to the seven for your soul. Yeah you're friends can- what the fuck do you just say about Y/N? No more friends. You're grounded. You'll have to try your darndest to get him to watch his language. Spoiler alert, he never will.

Deuce Spade

3 kids

Deuce is the kind of dad where, when people asks if he wants to raise a boy or a girl, he says boy. Not because he doesn't want a girl, he's just scared he'll fuck her up on accident with some of his behavioral tendencies. But in the end…he's a girl dad. He raises three girls, whether by birth or adoption, that's just how his luck turns out. And he's the best goddamn girl dad ever. By kid three, he only wants girls, cause how the fuck do you boy dad? Even as the girls get older, he isn't scared of some of the things that come with women. He always carries pads and pain killers. Anytime they need advice on relationships, and societal problems, they know they can go to dad.

Leona Kingscholar

1 kid

The one is a struggle for him. He doesn't want to have a second born who will go through what he did. So only one kid. That's it. He…to his surprise…turns out to be exactly the way Mufasa raises Simba. Stern when necessary, but totally down to rough house and play. He never even thought he had the energy for a kid…turns out he does. He loves his little rat more than life itself, and will do anything to prep him for life so that he can have the things Leona never did.

Ruggie Bucchi

5-8 kids

Teaches his kids early on to be light fingered. Imagine a bunch of hooligans running through the street, and when they're gone, you realize you're wallet is gone too. That's your kids. But only when you're not looking. He's raised them to understand not to snitch on dad. 😒 Otherwise no one can have fun. Other than that, he's a really soft dad. Playing with the kids, good for hugs, cooking meals that get them all their nutrients, but also provide comfort. The moment he can afford it, Ruggie is becoming your perfect little househusband.

Jack Howl

5 kids

He's the kind of dad that outsiders worry is a little cold and distant. But that's not the case. They just don't know how to read him. He has his own language that his kids perfectly understand. Left eyebrow quirked=what do you think you're doing? Right side of mouth quirked up=I'm so proud of you. Left side quirked down=that's not funny. Etc etc. The kids can always count in dad for snuggles if they are sad or have a bad dream. Even if he doesn't always remember to verbalize it, they always know they are loved.

Azul Ashengrotto

4

He's the one who has every step of his parenting and finances planned, to flawless perfection. And then immediately panics when he realizes you can't plan for everything, children are unpredictable. The first kid that breaks a bone, he's just wanting to go back to his octopus pot. Not to mention if your kids are birthed, he's not prepared for half octomer, half human, kids. He's unprepared, and very scared, but he's a loving dad…even if he seems too tense sometimes.

Jade Leech

1-3

He's the Gomez Adams, raising little Wednesdays. Female and male Wednesdays, but Wednesdays nonetheless. So excited, big smile, happy to be alive with you, and with your kids! Meanwhile the kids are all dark and brooding. It always looks so professional when you all walk up in business attire, Jade smiling, as the kids, also in business attire, have the darkest expressions on their faces. 

Floyd Leech

2-15

Rough housing dad. He raises a bunch of chaotic rascals. They're all sweet kids, but damn some of them have so much energy it scares the neighbor parents. Then they'll look over and see eel merman wrestling three of them and laughing like a mad man. He'll bandage them up, and give them kisses on their boo boos, but he won't calm down. Not that he needs to, they don't want him to calm down. Dad's fun!

Kalim al Asim

8-whenever you say to stop 😁

Party dad! He's a, "we rather you tried it at home than with strangers" kinda guy. By the time he is parenting, he's a little better at self control though, so he's willing to be that buffer, and help kid's stop before their limits. Also, he's the kind that pouts if his kids don't say, "I love you" when he drops them somewhere.

Jamil Viper

1-2

Strict dad. Old habits die hard. Or don't at all. You'll have to be self aware if he's too hard on the kids. The thing is, he has only had his freedom for so long, and his kids. The reason he's like this is because he's scared. His kids have a freedom that previous generations of Vipers never had. He doesn't want them to throw it away. He's terrified one misstep and they'll lose everything. You'll have to calm him down sometimes. But the kids, especially the older they get, will understand that this is how dad protects them. He also gives out expensive gifts if he thinks he's taken things a step too far… the kids love that.

Vil Schoenheit

1

There's no way this man doesn't raise a high achieving, future ex gifted child. So at first, he'll beam with pride as his child produces the best results, grades, magic, appearances, etc. It'll be a bit of a learning curve when the crash hits, and won't understand right away. But once he does, he becomes the biggest advocate for mental health services,and getting kids the care and enrichment they need. He does speeches, runs rallies, becomes the face of any movement that has to do with his kid. 

Rook Hunt

15

Teaches his kids to hunt like wild animals. He's the kind of dad that says, "I'm gonna take the kids out!" And later you find them in the middle of the woods, hiding in the bushes, waiting to jump you in a tickle pile that is inescapable. He's raising wild animals. And yet…somehow…the kids seem normal as they age? At least that's what you see…

Epel Felmier

5-7

Another one who raises hooligans. You have a bunch of freckled, sunburned kids, all who live outdoors and climb trees. But the kids are never alone when they are hooligans. Dad is always in the tree with them.

Idia Shroud

2

Scared shitless. He's a gentle parent, but, God, is he terrified. Everyone knows it. Anytime the kids get sick, or hurt, or sad, he's always worried it's cause he fucked up in some way. But once he calms down, he's always good at calming them down. He's gentle and understanding…once he gets out of his own head.

Malleus Draconia

1-15

He has to raise the future heir. So on the one hand, he has to be strict. But he makes it clear early on, that there's separation from work and home. Aka, sometimes he is father, king of darkness, and sometimes he is dad, server of applesauce. The kids are smart enough to know the difference, and figure out which Malleus they are talking to.

Lilia Vanrouge

3

When you and Lilia discuss raising a family together, you aren't expecting Silver to come to you with stories of how he was left in the middle of the woods for training…and if you don't say anything, you're destined to be raising kids with Lilia Vanrouge, delightful scamp, and general to Malleus Draconia's armies. If you have that conversation, you'll be raising kids with Lilia Vanerouge, delightful scamp, and nothing else. Usually. Make sure if he's giggling, and you can't find the kids anywhere, you know exactly where they are.

Silver

1-2

Quiet dad. A lot like Trey. He's soft and gentle, and the kids can count on him for snuggles, whether he's awake or not. A man of few words, but perfect for a lullaby, deep life advice, and snuggles.

Sebek Zigvolt

3-6

Soccer dad. Angrily yelling at his kids when they are subpar, and angrily yelling at other kids when they come for his kids. Fiercely loyal to the end, and to a fault, he will protect his family at all costs, even if he does grump and groan about it the whole time.

[serendipitous-girl]

𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒈𝒏𝒊𝒛𝒆𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍

⊱✿⊰ summary: headcanons with bakugo and a black cat girl

⊱✿⊰ warnings: swearing, suggestive comments, fighting ig, idrk

⊱✿⊰ notes: i have had this request for like fifteen months lol but im finally doing it for my pookie's bday. Happy birthday ml 🫶 im posting it now so i dont forget lol

❀ he hates you at first sorry not sorry. bakugo just sees you as yet another one of those extras who happen to have an annoying tendency to fight with him. i feel like he might respect your tenacity but barely and he still hates your guts whoops

❀ on the topic of hatred, your other classmates half are jokingly shipping you and the other half are just wishing you two would stop fighting. mina is at the head of the shipping bandwagon especially after she read a book with rivals to lovers. todoroki might say he ships you guys only because he thinks it means he wants you two to get along lol

❀ your arguments would mostly be stupid shit like who rescued who, who did better on the assignment. you guys are rivals who also get into fistfights because why not.

❀ bakugo doesn't think much of your swearing problem because he's used to it by his mom. you're just another annoying person who happens to like using some naughty words all the time (him in girl form)

❀ i feel like the way you two get closer is kinda sad but also drama yay. basically mineta was being an S-class pervert and he was literally harassing you.

❀ and it made you uncomfortable so you started to fight back. bakugo doesn't find you until the aftermath, huddled in the corner of the dorm while trying to hide your tears

❀ he didn't know seeing someone cry could make his heart clench like that. But for some reason, seeing you all teary eyed and sad made him want to punch the living daylights out of whoever made you like that

❀ as awkwardly as he can, he tries to comfort you. His large hand patting your back, not saying anything since words have never been his forte. He was used to using anger to battle his sadness, he didn't know how to help someone succumb to it.

❀ you guys sit there in comfortable silence until you explain to bakugo what happened. he'd always hated the little brat but now he was wishing he had uraraka's powers so he could throw mineta into space. how was the creep still in the hero course?

❀ lets just say the nice day mineta looked more like a cranberry than a grape

❀ you guys aren't particularly close after that but he does tend to notice you more which means his respect for you goes up. you're in combat training and you beat deku? fuck yeah he likes you now. even if you don't hate deku like he does he still thought it was awesome seeing you beat the daylights out of him.

❀ the moment he realized he liked you was when he almost lost you. by now hanging out was pretty regular for the two of you, even if bakugo would rather die than admit that he sees you as a friend. and since you guys spent time together he was around for whenever you got crushes...and told him about it.

❀ most of the time he would shrug it off, especially since half of your crushes were fictional and why would he care? he's not jealous! however you started falling for a boy in class 2b which (for some reason) was a major no go for bakugo. why would you want to date a stupid extra when he was right in front of you

❀ despite what everyone says he isn't the most emotionally constipated. it takes awhile yeah but i imagine he started going to therapy during the course of the show so he started to understand what feelings went where and etc

and one thing was for certain: this feeling was love.

❀ he started being a massive asshole after that. he went right back to always arguing with you or ignoring you completely. he might understand his feelings but that doesn't mean he knows how to handle them

❀ he was so wrapped up in his angry emoness that he didn't know you had stopped talking to the boy from class 2b, forgetting him entirely. he also failed to notice the hurt looks you'd give bakugo before you snapped right back into your harsh comebacks.

❀ the reason you guys even talk it out is during a simulation where the both of you get stuck inside rubble. you were both exhausted, dehydrated, and heartbroken.

❀ you just couldn't help but ask, "why do you hate me?" which basically broke his heart into a million little pieces. he couldn't help the way he admitted to his feelings, the way he handed you his heart in hopes you'd keep it safe...and safe you did.

❀ if you two as rivals were bad you two dating is even worse. you guys are the ultimate power couple, able to tear anybody down with a few well placed sneers and snorts.

❀ everybody either loves or hates you guys. mina obviously loves you guys even if you two are constantly arguing still plus with the added of you two tag teaming one person. she loves when she manifests things.

❀ you guys still have that silly banter and with your tempers. but now you guys made up your arguments with kisses and cuddles

❀ you guys aren't allowed to get paired together for assignments because you are either bickering or making out. and aizawa is too tired to try to stop it.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[ezdotjpg]

Hi!!! Sorry if you've been asked this before but is it possible for you to summarize the Bonus Links' personalities? Just asking because I'd like to get a general idea, apologies if this is too much of a pain to answer 😭🫶🏻

hey! luckily I already wrote up character intros a while back that I never posted to tumblr lol, so I'll go ahead and post them now! under the cut since this is mega long lol

Loft

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Skyward Sword

Age: 22

Height: 5’3”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: World’s Nicest Man Pushed To His Limit. It’s his nature to be light-hearted and easy-going, but ever since the events of Skyward Sword he’s been unable to let the implications of Demise’s curse and Zelda’s connection to Hylia go. He’s usually mild, but he’s got a lot of suppressed anger in him that comes out at inopportune times. He tends towards being optimistic, but has lately been caught in a depressive spiral. As a result of all these conflicting emotions, he hasn’t felt like himself in a while. Before everything, he could have been described as a little bit lazy, but these days a better word would be lethargic. He’s got a mischievous and thrill-seeking streak that often surprises people. He knows he’s powerful, but he’s lost some confidence in the years since his quest. He’s wracked with guilt about the way everything ended.

Slate

Pronouns: tends to use he/him, but really any

Game: Breath of the Wild (ignoring TotK for now)

Age: 21

Height: 5’0”

Communication: Mainly signs, speaks occasionally

Personality: The Reviews Are In: Friendly Guy, Vaguely Off-Putting. He knows he’s not pre-calamity Link, but he’s not exactly sure what he is instead. He’s accepted this about himself, and it grinds his gears that other people refuse to. He’s not sure what to do with all these memories inside him that aren’t his, and that he feels nothing for. He’s become more expressive, but when he’s upset his face goes entirely blank. He has a tendency to be distracted, blunt, intense, impulsive, somewhat abrasive. But he’s not unkind, and can even be outright friendly. He’d offer his help to anyone who asks, and he makes it a point to know everyone in Hyrule. He’s happiest out in nature, and doesn’t mind the solitude. He only ever lies by omission, and otherwise says exactly what he means. There’s something a little otherworldly about him.

Mask

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask

Age: 15

Height: 5’2½”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Local Teen Needs Hug So Bad, Will Bite If You Try. He’s prickly, hot-tempered, moody. He’ll pick verbal battles he probably shouldn’t. Everything is a touchy subject. But he’s developed this behavior as a coping mechanism. He’s kind by nature, and it takes effort to lash out. The person he is with Malon- gentle, more soft-spoken, with a good sense of humor and a love for harmless mischief- is a lot closer to the person he’s comfortable being. He’s a scared kid. He feels out of place, both mature and immature, of this world and not. Sometimes, he gets scrambled between Termina, the Hyrule he’s in now, the Hyrule he left behind, and the Hyrule of the war. He has a lot of resentment for both the gods and the royal family, and all he wants is to be left alone.

Wolf

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Twilight Princess

Age: 23

Height: 5’5”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Thank God I’m A Country Boy. He’s a gentle soul, probably the gentlest out of all of them. He likes to be useful, and he has made being the problem solver of Ordon Village part of his identity. He’s a bit of a mother hen and likes to take care of people. Midna was good at bringing out a little bit of attitude and snark in him. He’s got a bad case of Resting Bitch Face, but he’s not an angry person. However, he’s had a hard time adjusting to life back in Ordon. He’s usually even-tempered, but lately he’s been irritable and easier to anger. He feels isolated by his experiences, and has been avoiding most of the villagers, including his loved ones, even though it makes him lonely. Mostly he just doesn’t want to take it out on them, but it’s also about his pride. He enjoys the company of animals far more these days. He wants a quiet life, and has been avoiding Zelda's attempts to make "Hero" a political role for him to fill.

War

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Hyrule Warriors

Age: 25

Height: 5’7”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally, had Proxi speak for him at one point during the war

Personality: Link “This Is My Jaeger, I Make The Tactical Decisions” Faron. He comes across as a very charming young man, witty, helpful, pleasant in conversation, well-adjusted. In reality, he is constantly doing complicated political 4D chess in his mind at all times, even when it’s not necessary. Many years of being subject to the whims of the Royal Court and pressure to be a perfect symbol have poisoned him: he’s become calculating, manipulative, superficially polite, two-faced. He has to be the one holding all the cards, considering all the variables, fixing all of the problems, because he can’t trust anyone else. If you were to strip him of all pretense, he'd actually be a dry, resigned person, perpetually annoyed with everyone around him. He values status and reputation, and he wants more power than he has. His appearance is important to him because he knows his pretty face is an asset. He holds deep respect for the gods and the mantle of the hero. He has a strong sense of duty, but one that often leads him to justify terrible actions. The ends justify the means.

Mirror

Pronouns: he/they

Game: A Link Between Worlds, Triforce Heroes

Age: 22

Height: 5’1”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Local Link Doing Pretty Well Actually, All Things Considered. He’s just living his life, having a mostly pleasant time. He used to be quiet and reserved when he was younger, but has come out of his shell in a big way. He’s a bit vain, and fond of doing things with a dramatic flair. They like to have an audience, they like to make people laugh, they like to have your attention. Rather than being poisoned by court politics, he thrives in them. He doesn’t pretend to be charming, he just is. They can be on the arrogant side. He’s interested in fashion and art more than fighting these days, but still keeps his skills up to date. He pretends the scar on his face doesn’t bother him, but it does. He’s particularly obsessed with the legend of the hero before him.

Mage

Pronouns: he/him

Game: A Link to the Past, Link’s Awakening, Oracle of Ages, Oracle of Seasons

Age: 32

Height: 5’3”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Weird Uncle You Just Stopped Hearing From One Day. He’s a difficult guy to get a read on. He comes off as deeply serious, imposing, no-nonsense. He is actually full of nonsense. The fact that no one can tell what is and isn’t part of the bit is part of the bit. He mostly ignores his own problems by dedicating his life to solving other people’s problems. He wanders from place to place, helping people and becoming a bit of a larger than life folk legend in his own right in the process. He’s leaned into learning magic more than the sword, and has built up quite the arsenal of spells. He doesn’t speak often, and is content to let other Links lead despite being the oldest and the most experienced. He’s difficult to rile and even more difficult to get a straight answer out of.

Spirit

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Spirit Tracks

Age: 16

Height: 4’11”

Communication: Mainly signs, speaks occasionally. He has a stutter when he speaks.

Personality: Wants To Be Anywhere But Here, Preferably On A Train. He’s fully given up swordfighting, and basically just wants to go back to being a Royal Engineer like nothing happened. He has no interest in gaining any kind of attention, authority, or power from the mantle of the hero, and would actually prefer that everyone stop looking at him. He’s quiet, sweet-natured and generally non-confrontational, but he’s not afraid to stand up for himself when pushed. It’s just that it’s easier to let Zelda stand up for him instead. He’s pretty mature and in-tune with his emotions for a 16 year old. Seeing spirits everywhere, he has a lot of private thoughts about grief and death that he doesn’t share with anyone. The gears in his brain are constantly turning, and once he’s stuck on an idea, it’s all he can focus on. He often doesn’t give himself enough credit for how capable he is. Please let him tell you about trains.

Mini

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Minish Cap

Age: 14

Height: 4’3”

Communication: Only signs, mute.

Personality: He’s Just A Little Guy, Only 2 Pixels Tall. Mini doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do. He’s not very expressive in the face, and it can be hard to tell what he’s thinking or feeling. Mostly, he’s a little rascal. He likes to root around in the garbage and build strange little machines from what he finds. He spends a lot of time hanging out with the Minish, moreso than humans. It’s a little bit of an escapism thing. He hasn’t really processed what it meant to become the hero so young, and is actively trying to avoid doing so. He’s very independent, and simply doesn’t compute attempts to coddle him.

Wake

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Wind Waker, Phantom hourglass

Age: 20

Height: 5’5”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Everyone’s Favorite Cousin At The Family Function. He’s a fun person to be around. Friendly, energetic, laid back, good-natured, outgoing. He is always up for a good shenanigan. But he can get serious when he needs to, and often plays the important role of mediator in group dynamics. He’s the glue that holds the team together! He seems to take everything in stride, and presents himself as unbothered by the things that have happened to him. Whether that’s actually true, or he’s just compartmentalized everything too well remains to be seen. He has a strange way of being very open, and yet a closed book at the same time. He’s sentimental, and family is important to him

[askfordoodles]

Ok, fellow Emmrichmancers, I need to defend my girl Harding here for a bit, cause she's been getting some disdain and eye-rolling for being the supposed 'discourse-mouthpiece' (ie. being the only one calling out the age gap thing).

Listen, ... when she first brings it up, that's what it SOUNDS like she's doing. Harding has a tendency to struggle with wording things well, she's life-smart, not book-smart - so that first banter does read as though she's worried FOR Rook in that patronizing way like a parent or older sibling, who thinks they know better... (heck even Emmrich potentially falls into that trap during the argument)

but then there's follow-up banter and it becomes clear that, no, she's not worried Emmrich might be taking advantage of poor innocent younger Rook; it becomes increasingly clear she's worried about HIS feelings. She's always addressing her concerns to HIM, and worrying about how they're "going too fast" (even IF he's made the promise to Rook to move slowly during their first dinner-date).

Harding's making observations about how he's becoming noticeably "mopey", she can TELL something's worrying HIM. (mind you, not even Rook seemed to have picked up on this)

And in turn he's very honest with Harding about how, despite defending himself against Davrin's juvenile jabs and appreciating/enduring Taash's sentiments and all that jazz, the age gap thing DOES secretly bother him. (the fact that he doesn't start moping straight away suggests that Harding was right, they DID go a bit too fast and Emmrich especially, was blinded by the honeymoon-phase so to speak). He does end up genuinely thanking her for her concern and advice, to try and think ahead about the relationship.

(Although sadly it still takes their potential impending deaths for him to reach their crisis-stage of needing to address his worries and I could do a whole essay alone on how he chooses to handle it, but others already have, so not now)

Say what you will about her, out of all their mutual friends, Harding was the ONLY ONE to see the pre-battle argument coming from A MILE AWAY, and she was trying to gently warn them; to try and nudge her two friends to have a serious talk about the consequences ahead, rather than blithely avoiding it.

tl;dr: Harding's got that serious emotional intelligence, and y'all best RESPECT her relationship advice.

[redvdress]

WHAT´S GOING ON HERE?

A/N please read the title with itadori’s curious voice because he’s exactly the one who could find himself near you as megumi was opening up (well we could say he was trying to at least) in his own awkward but lovely way!

After a brutal mission involving exorcising a cluster of malicious curses, the atmosphere was thick with fatigue and the lingering tension of battle. The air felt heavy with the remnants of cursed energy, and the surrounding forest was still eerily quiet, as though even the insects were too wary to chirp. You and Megumi Fushiguro were seated on a low stone, your breaths slowly evening out after the strenuous fight. The sun was setting behind the trees, casting long shadows and a fading orange hue over the landscape.

Megumi, as usual, sat a few feet away from you, his back slightly hunched, elbows resting on his knees as he stared into the ground. His usual stoic demeanor remained intact, but there was a slight furrow in his brows—exhaustion, or perhaps something else. Despite your own tiredness, you noticed the subtle tension in his shoulders, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite bring himself to.

You knew Megumi well enough by now to recognize the signs. Though introverted yourself, you had gradually learned to read his quiet nature, the way his awkward silences often masked something deeper, unspoken. His tendency to keep everything inside was something you understood all too well.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment longer, the sounds of nature returning around you in soft whispers. Megumi shifted slightly, his eyes darting in your direction for a brief second before flicking away. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“You did… well back there,” he finally muttered, his voice low and rough, as if forcing himself to speak up was a challenge. He still wasn’t looking at you, his gaze instead focused on a spot on the ground, but you could tell that he was trying—really trying—to express something he wasn’t used to sharing.

“Thanks,” you replied quietly, offering him a small smile, knowing better than to push him too much.

The silence stretched on for a few moments again, but this time it wasn’t quite as comfortable as before. You could feel the unspoken tension in the air, as though Megumi had something more he wanted to say but didn’t know how to articulate it. His fingers fidgeted slightly, the first real sign of nervousness you had ever seen in him.

“You—” he started again, cutting himself off immediately, his face hardening with frustration. His hand lifted to run through his dark, messy hair, the subtle irritation at his own inability to speak showing through.

“You… um, you’re not bad at handling yourself in fights,” he finally managed to say, still not making eye contact. “I mean, considering you’re not… like Gojo sensei or anything.” He glanced at you sideways, as if trying to gauge your reaction but immediately regretted how he worded it.

You laughed softly, finding his awkwardness strangely endearing. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Megumi’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile, but it disappeared just as quickly, replaced by the usual stoic expression. He exhaled deeply, seemingly gathering his thoughts. His body language was stiff, almost as though he was afraid of showing too much emotion, but you could tell that there was something genuine behind his awkward words.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is…” He paused, his voice trailing off as if unsure of how to continue. His brow furrowed in concentration, and for the first time since you had known him, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his usually guarded eyes. “It’s good to have someone like you around. I mean… to fight alongside.”

You blinked, a little surprised by his admission. It was rare for Megumi to offer any form of praise or personal sentiment, even if it was wrapped in his usual bluntness. The fact that he was trying to open up like this, in his own awkward way, made your chest feel unexpectedly warm.

“Thanks, Fushiguro” you said softly, letting the sincerity of your words hang in the air between you.

He finally turned his head slightly to look at you, his dark eyes meeting yours for just a second before quickly darting away again. His hand rubbed the back of his neck—a nervous tic you had seen him do before. He seemed almost relieved that he had gotten his words out, even if it had taken considerable effort.

Just as the silence settled into something more comfortable, the moment shattered with a loud, obnoxious voice cutting through the peace.

“FUSHIGURO!! Y/N!!”

You both snapped your heads up to see Itadori, bounding toward you with his usual exuberance, arms waving in the air like an overexcited puppy. His sudden appearance felt like someone had splashed cold water over the quiet, intimate atmosphere that had been building between you and Megumi.

“What’s going on here?” Yuji called out, a wide grin plastered on his face as he slowed his pace. His eyes darted between the two of you, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. Then, as if a lightbulb went off, his eyes lit up mischievously. “OH, I SEE WHAT’S HAPPENING!”

Megumi’s face immediately flushed a deep red, the rare sight of his embarrassment only made worse by the fact that Yuji was practically bouncing on the spot now. His jaw clenched, and you could see the vein in his forehead threatening to pop.

“Itadori…” Megumi’s voice was low, dangerous even, but of course, Yuji was completely oblivious.

“Hey, Kugisaki! You gotta come see this!” Yuji suddenly shouted, turning back to where Nobara was likely still recovering from the mission as well. “Fushiguro’s over here getting all soft and sentimental! You gotta see this—he’s, like, smiling and everything!”

Megumi’s eyes widened with pure horror at Yuji’s words, and you could feel the tension radiating off of him. He looked like he was about two seconds away from summoning his Divine Dogs just to sic them on Yuji out of sheer embarrassment. His fists clenched at his sides, his whole body tensed.

“You are dead,” Megumi muttered under his breath, the calm before the storm.

Yuji, of course, continued to laugh, completely unfazed by the murderous aura radiating from his friend. “Come on, Fushiguro! Don’t be shy now! We were all waiting for this day!” He winked in your direction, still grinning.

You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, watching the way Megumi’s composure crumbled in the face of his friends’ teasing. As introverted as you were, you found the entire situation strangely amusing. You’d never seen Megumi this flustered before, and it was oddly refreshing to see him in a moment of such uncharacteristic vulnerability.

Nobara finally appeared, stomping toward the scene with her usual brash energy. She raised an eyebrow as she took in the scene, hands on her hips.

“What the hell is this, Fushiguro?” she asked, her tone a mix of amusement and disbelief. “You getting all soft now? Should I start calling you Mr. Sentimental?”

Megumi let out a low growl, his face still flushed red. “I swear to God, I’m going to kill both of you.”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore, and the sound seemed to catch Megumi off guard. His anger flickered for a moment as he glanced in your direction, and for just a split second, you thought you saw the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Despite the chaos of the moment, you could tell that Megumi wasn’t really angry—more embarrassed than anything. You shared a brief look with him, and in that moment, you understood that while Yuji and Nobara’s teasing would continue, it didn’t change what had happened between the two of you earlier. Megumi had tried to open up, and though it had been interrupted, you knew that he had made an effort in his own way.

“Come on, Fushiguro” you said, standing up and giving him a playful nudge on the shoulder. “Let’s get out of here before they make it worse.”

He let out a resigned sigh, standing up beside you, his face still slightly red but his usual stoic expression slowly returning. “Yeah, let’s go.”

As the two of you walked away, Yuji and Nobara’s voices still echoing behind you, Megumi shot you a sidelong glance, his lips twitching ever so slightly.

“Thanks,” he muttered under his breath, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

You smiled to yourself, knowing that in his own awkward way, Megumi was grateful—for both your presence and for not making a big deal out of his moment of vulnerability.

And as the two of you continued to walk, side by side, you couldn’t help but feel that, despite the interruption, something between you and Megumi had changed.

[yandereunsolved]

Breath of a Yandere - ,, Yandere Wild headcanons

tw(s): yandere themes, (Wild) multiple mentions of suicidal ideations/suicide & self depreciation

ꨄ︎ Yandere Wild who met you after waking up in the Shrine of Resurrection. You were a lone traveler from Lurelin Village. You traveled countless months, with many others accompanying you at various points on your journey. You had to know the truth. You had to know if it was true. The rumors about the legendary hero fueled your adventures. You feared the worst, but you found him. He didn't awake at first. You spent weeks traveling out of the Shrine only for necessities.

ꨄ︎ He heard a strange voice coming from the darkness and then saw you. You spoke to him with such a reverence that he wasn't accustomed to. He was incredibly cautious and wouldn't allow you near him. That all changed when you offered him some glazed meat. He shoved it down his throat and suddenly you were his closest companion.

ꨄ︎ Words never leave his mouth. You thought at first it was just the surprise of awakening after a hundred years, but no. He just never spoke to you. He spoke with his hands and through his body language. He taught you most of the Hylian sign language that you know. It is probably better that he doesn't speak. You would be disturbed and greatly flattered about the things he thinks about you.

ꨄ︎ He never leaves your side unless you are both put in a life ending situation. He's like a silent but loyal dog. He is always watching your movements and standing guard over you. You have to cuddle with him before he finally allows himself to succumb to sleep.

ꨄ︎ Guardians? You are staying behind. Shrines? You may stand at the entrance as long as there are no monsters around. If there are then he will kill them and then make you wait. The Divine Beasts? Okay, fine— he allows you in all the Divine Beasts except for Vah Naboris. He allows you to ride with Riju but only because she has the Thunder Helm. However, the Ganonblights? On Hylia's name, no. You go back to the entrance and wait there.

ꨄ︎ Ganon himself? You wait. After your entire journey together, he only speaks one word to you. "Wait." He presses himself against you and makes you hide behind one of the castle pillars. There are tears in his eyes and he is shaking. You are his God(dess). He has killed and sacrificed so much. You saved him. You did. He signs to you. "I face Ganon alone. I can't lose you." His hands get shaky. "I love you."

ꨄ︎ That's the first time he ever says he loves you and his yandere tendencies only get worse from there. More possessive. More obsessive. More puppy-like. He's a wolf in sheep's clothing. He always has an eye on you and doesn't allow you out of his sight. He would never hurt you, but he'll hurt others for you.

ꨄ︎ After the battle you two embrace each other and he sobs quietly into your chest. He allows you to patch his wounds. It's difficult because he's hanging off of you. Zelda is sitting near you both around the campfire. It's a little a lot awkward because she's seen his entire journey. She has seen his feelings for you blossom. A part of her hurts because she won't have her Link back, but was he ever hers? It was just his duty.

ꨄ︎ His memories may have come back but he only has one person in his heart. That person is you. Zelda wants him to come back as a knight. He signs no. He has to stay near you. He will die without you.

ꨄ︎ He thinks the sweetest and most depraved things in his mind. He is constantly praising you within his mind. He wishes he could speak those words but he can't. So he signs them. He shows them through acts of service. His mind is just a constant track about you. Partially this is because of his knight training. He was trained to protect and serve. He was trained to help the princess. His mind still sometimes slips back into that. It's just you, you, you, danger?, you, you, you.

ꨄ︎ On that note, his trauma is constantly fueling his tendencies and how he sees you as his god(dess). He was a child knight, blames himself for failing to protect everyone before Calamity Ganon gave over, and woke up with zero memories and a mission to save all of Hyrule. You were the first person he met. You were and still are his guide to this world. Sure, you aren't fated to be with him. Sure, it could have been just a mistake— but you are the first person that ever got him. You didn't push him to speak. You took your time in learning how to communicate with him. You respected him not just as the hero but a person.

ꨄ︎ He takes interest in whatever you are interested in. He will go so far as trying to replicate what you are doing. He isn't great at art but he'll do his best to draw what you are doing. He shows it you like an excited little kid. He does little poems as well. They are all about his adoration to you and how much he wants to spend time with you. Sometimes they have some blood splatters on them. Don't think about it too hard.

ꨄ︎ He his naturally cautious when all of these goods things become interrupted with the introduction of The Chain. He is like a frightened animal with his hackles up. He has his mastersword pointed to the strange group. They introduce themselves and he relaxes a little. He stays by your side the entire time and makes sure everyone knows that you are taken by him.

ꨄ︎ It's really, really, really hard for him when you say you want to travel with The Chain. His thought process is like this: heartbreak. My God(dess) wants to be around other Links? Why do they want to put themselves in danger? Why? Why? I have to protect them. I have to. I need them near me. Why do they want to travel? Will they still cook for me and me only...? Or will I have to share? You want to travel to different Hyrules and fight monsters with them? You want to see their Hyrules? What if my Hyrule isn't good enough for you?

ꨄ︎ As much as he hates it— he'd do anything for you. He sets some ground rules though. No letting the others get too close. Stay by his side. Tell him everything. And do not, ever, put yourself in harms way. That has been his number one rule since day one. No getting yourself hurt. That scares him the most. He could live without you, but you are alive. He'd barely be alive but he could live. If you died? He'd kill himself and die right next to you. So when you get a scratch he wants, needs, aches to kill the thing that gave you that scratch.

ꨄ︎ You both begin traveling with The Chain and it goes better then expected. Wild is still the same Wild. He may even be getting a little better. The Chain is a bunch of hims. Wild is doing better in a way. He's gotten close to everyone and now knows some of their secrets. He's quiet and he listens. They are unassuming of him. Even the more cautious ones such as Hyrule, Legend, and Time bring their guard down a little. He rarely communicates with them but you know he is acutely listening. He only really signs to you.

ꨄ︎ So, it's perfect. There are a bunch of hims that stay away from you and protect you. He is getting them to trust him. You are safer than you have ever been. Safe. So safe. And if he needs to kill them for you? He's already got the information on them.

ꨄ︎ Wild always buys you things from the villages you all go to. He runs up to you and shoves them into your hands happily. It's one of the few times you see a smile on his usually stoic face. He absolutely adores buying you matching fits. He's practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. He loves matching with you. He even gets you a sword that mimics the mastersword in style. He teaches you how to wield it and everything.

ꨄ︎ He sabotages the others in The Chain if they try to spend time with you. He'll tell you things about them, dark things that he's learned. He'll write them out to you and slip them into your back pocket, your satchel, your bed roll. He'll make them look stupid in front of you. He might accidentally trip them or outbest them in sparring. He makes sure you see the worst of them and the best of him. He doesn't need words to steal your heart all for himself.

ꨄ︎ He always wakes up early and watches you sleep. He tries to resist your warmth to not fall asleep but it's too much. So he wakes up in the morning before you. He watches silently, unblinkingly. He thinks you look so adorable, so pretty, so handsome. You are even more angelic when you are awake. Your smile could even make Ganon fall to his knees.

ꨄ︎ He either makes breakfast for you or with you. He sits guard while you bathe in the river. He wants to take a peek but he doesn't! He's a loyal man. He's tempted. Very tempted though. He loves watching you do your skincare and getting ready though. His eyes rarely leave you while in eyesight.

ꨄ︎ His habits reach their most overbearing after Sage joins The Chain. His life was going so perfect with you. You got protection and he got you all to himself. Now, there's this new version of him. He is acting so... clingy towards you. He just seems so attached to you. Wild begins to get shooed away when Sage is near. You are all about being near Sage. Saving Sage.

ꨄ︎ He refuses to leave your side, even for a moment. He distances himself from the rest of The Chain. He begins to not eat. He begins to not sleep. He gets very nervous and becomes a wreck. He thinks if he does this to himself you'll love him. You loved him when he was like this before. Is this what you want? Do you want someone that needs you? He needs you more than anyone else. He doesn't see any reason to live anymore without you.

ꨄ︎ Like always, you save him. You save him from that dark place and refuse to leave his side. He cuddles into you and refuses to let you go. You feel guilty and you are worried sick about him. Wild almost died and he refuses to tell you why. You were sparring with Sage and suddenly you heard a sword slash in the woods. Wild stabbed himself in the heart with a sword... If it wasn't for Hyrule he'd be dead.

ꨄ︎ You sobbed for hours over his body and you refused to leave. You still do. You are beginning to succumb to his neediness and overprotective ways. Just like Wild wanted. He just needs to be wanted by you. He just needs your love. He just needs one person who will love him above all else.

ꨄ︎ Wild has you, but at Sage's expense. He's extremely irritated that this little boyfriend of yours is taking you away from him. A few of the other Links have mixed, upset, and possessive feelings as well. However, we'll discuss that another time.

tag list; lmk if you want to be tagged: @screaming-until-god-hears-me

[sunfyresrider]

ミ♥︎OUR LAST SUMMER | NETEYAM SULI

❥Summary: You were never allowed to leave the lab, especially to venture off into the forest. However, one day you get a extreme urge to go to the river and that’s where you met him. The man who would surely be your downfall. ❥Word Count: 8k ❥Tags: obsessive tendencies, love struck Neteyam, mild manipulation, jealous!neteyam, interspecies relationship, wingman!Lo’ak, smut, fingering, oral, p n v, choking (slightly), mild angst. Am I missing anything? Lmk! ❥Author’s Note: This can be seen as a part one to a future fic of mine ‘Mated for Life’. S/O to me for finally remembering to add a word count LMAO. This is inspired by an older fic of mine so I’m kinda copyrighting myself😎

Neteyam knew from a young age everything would fall on his shoulders, that all the responsibilities of an adult would be his to bear. It made him pretty fucking miserable to be honest, but he would never let it show. It made him a better person in many ways, a better son, a better warrior, and a great brother. It did not make him happy nor did it make him forget the loneliness he felt.

Lo’ak always claimed he was misunderstood but Neteyam dare say he had it worse. No one viewed him as other than perfect, no one attempted to see what’s under the surface, and no one was there to love him in the ways he thought he deserved. Today was one of the days that proved he wouldn’t be anything other than the perfect soldier. Another day he had to take the blame for something he did not do.

His brother had snuck onto the battlefield and nearly killed them both. The second their ikrans landed his father had a speech to give to them both, even while his eldest son was bleeding. He took the blame as he always did, the yelling, the insults, and the beratement to protect his younger brother. How much more could he take though? After his wounds had been healed he found himself in the corner of the forest, knees pressed tightly to his chest.

Neteyam prided himself on not being weak but today he let the tears flows. He let the river attempt to wash away the burden that he had no choice but to carry. Neteyam wanted someone, just anyone, to understand him. That is what he prayed for from Ewya, even though the great mother did not involve herself in petty things such as this, he hoped she would this one time.

You had grown up on Pandora, your mother being one of the great scientists who worked with Grace Augustine and Jake Sully. She didn’t allow you to venture outside often like spider, you were too small, too precious to her to risk being harmed in the wilderness. In your opinion it was a load of bullshit and you deserved to play with the Na’vi kids just like him! Except now you were older, inexperienced, out of shape, and would probably die by a viper wolf attack.

Unfortunately for her you were born with rebellion in your heart and a strong sense of will. Dusk had fallen on the moon and the light from the windows inside the lab were beginning to fill the room's orange. It was one of the rare moments you were able to be completely alone. It was a strict rule to return to your room after biology lessons with Norm but you had plenty of time to stroll. Right now, your mother would still be aiding the warriors returning from the recent battle. It was prime time to make an escape and explore.

You first met Neteyam in a very compromising position, curled up by the stream and sleeping. There was a subtle stain on his blue skin from tears that were shed earlier. He looked pathetic, not in a bad way, in an abused puppy way that made your heart melt. How could you leave him out here all alone? Granted, he was twice your size and carried many weapons but that thought did not ease the ache in your heart. No one should ever be left alone to cry. You crawled next to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. “Neteyam?” You whispered into his ears.

His eyebrows began to furrow slightly, ears twitching in the direction of your voice. “Neteyam, wake up.” He jumped up and snatched your wrist, startling you. “Brother?!” His eyes scanned the surroundings quickly and you before settling with a confused expression plastered on his face. “S-sorry Lo’ak isn’t here,” you mumbled out. You knew the former vastly better since he visited the lab so often, all you knew of the eldest was stories.

Neteyam’s quickened breathing settled, his eyes scanning over your form. Which human were you? You were too pretty to be another scientist, too young to have lived here during the war. It took him awhile of staring at you for his brain to finally put it together, “star girl.” His hands released you slowly as his mouth hung slightly agape, why in Ewya’s name would Lo’ak hide you from him? He had seen you in passing once or twice but he didn’t realize you looked like this.

Neteyam never considered an alien could be beautiful but you proved him very wrong. You had the perfect lips, your eyes glistened with his reflection inside your pupils. Your hair fell perfectly, highlighting your pretty face. And from what he could see from your strange clothes you had a nice body too. “Lo’ak told me many things about you, all good so far.” He quickly cleared his throat, pulling his hands away to wipe the tears from his eyes. This was embarrassing, but he was going to push through it.

Two tiny, four fingered, hands cupped his cheeks. Your skin was warm, soft and distracting him from his original thought. “Are you alright? Was someone being cruel to you?” You regretted the last sentence as it stumbled out, he was just in a battle you idiot! Oh Ewya, help him because you sounded like the angels his dad spoke about. Neteyam was too dumbfounded to say anything coherent, maybe too starstruck by your presence.

You weren’t necessarily wrong, his father did hurt him deeply. His mother hurt him by not standing up for him either. The most perplexing part was you cared to ask, your tiny self risked being in these dangerous lands just to see if he was alright. Neteyam forced himself to nod slowly, not entirely sure how to react to such comfort.

Perhaps this wasn’t the best thing to do but your mother always comforted you in this way. You had even done this to Kiri a few times when she came to the lab to cry about her own problems. Gently, you swiped the tear tracks from his face, pressing two gentle kisses where they laid. “Don’t cry, you’re an amazing warrior, a good son, an even better brother. You finished your Rite of Passage before anyone else your age. You have so much more to offer than just those things and they’re just too blind to see it. And so many people love you like-”

“My child,” the sounds of your mother's cries echoed in your ears. Shit, she knew you had escaped. You let go of him quickly, preparing to run into her arms and feign innocence. Before you left though, you jumped onto him, arms embracing his frame the best they could. “You're perfect, okay? I’m always here to talk if you need it." You jumped to your feet, brushing off the dirt you had collected whilst exploring. "I gotta go... feel better!"

Neteyam sat up and watched you scurry away, his eyes were wide and time had stilled around him. Where the fuck have you been his entire life? His heart felt full in a way it hadn’t before, Neteyam’s stomach twisting around itself. The thoughts of your little hands, your little frame, your sweet voice and soft lips swirling in his head. You were so… perfect, so inviting… You had to be his.

He had never truly thought about having someone all for himself, especially an alien. But even the perfect son needed to indulge his own desires at times, even the hardened warrior needed to be held in times of sorrow. At this moment all he could think about was stealing you away, keeping you safe in his home, protecting you from the dangers of this world forever. He needed more, desperately and as soon as possible.

Neteyam pulled himself up, with a new found confidence he ran home. It was time he talked to his parents about finding a potential mate.

The talk went about as well as Lo’ak claiming his ikran. He mentioned he had found someone, and he was prepared to finally choose a mate. His parents rejoiced, the proud look they reserved for him finally returning. Until he mentioned that it was you, and the light drained from their eyes, the colors fading from their faces.

Neteyam’s idea was shot down faster than he could manage to speak it. You had an avatar body in that damn lab and he knew it! You could easily become one of the people like his father and be his mate. Why was his mother so against it? His father at the very least gave it some thought before succumbing to his mother’s rants.

It wasn’t her fault she was traumatized, but it was hypocritical considering his father was an alien when she met him. Fine, Neteyam was used to a challenge and he would claim you before they had another chance to say no. Hopefully this time around his love for you would override his fear of disappointing his parents.

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The next time he came across you was far after eclipse, everyone in his home was fast asleep while he made his move. It was incredibly hard to sneak out of the camp, even harder to sneak into the human camp. Your stupid cameras and metal monstrosities make it nearly impossible to creep through, let alone into you. Neteyam vaguely remembered where Lo’ak claimed you slept, in moments like these he was grateful his brother had his back.

The more he tiptoed around the camp the angrier he became, were you even real or was that a fever dream? He stumbled onto a group of tree metal homes stacked against each other. Carefully, he peeked his head into each one searching you out. To his disappointment the first two were occupied by a snoring Norm and a drooling Max. It took him one more attempt before he finally saw your sleeping figure.

You were so adorable, all bundled up in the things called sheets and holding a pillow tightly to your chest. It made his soul melt at the sight, Neteyam wasted no time welcoming himself inside, pushing the first door open and closing it tightly behind him. If he let any air in from the outside you may die before he got the chance to touch you again. Thankfully, the next door was easier and much quieter than the first.

Neteyam had to crouch as he approached you, ignoring how terrifying he probably looked. He outstretched one of his long fingers to brush a strand of your hair out of your face, admiring the peaceful view in front of him. If Ewya allowed it he could stay and watch you sleep all night but your air was already taking an effect on his lungs.

“Yawne… wake up,” he gently placed a hand on your shoulder, urging you awake. You were an incredibly light sleeper, your eyes shot open and you jumped back as if you were about to scream. Neteyam quickly shoved a hand over your lips, bracing the back of your head with the other before it crashed against the wall. “Shhh, shh yawne, it’s Neteyam.”

You crooked your head to the side, watching him closely. Obviously pondering why he invaded your space at such a late hour. “Neteyam,” you murmured into his hand, confirming if this was a dream or reality. A wide grin blessed his features, “good morning, baby girl.” He heard that nickname from his father, and by the blush on your cheeks it worked quite well. “What are you doing here?”

You rubbed your eyes, gazing out the window, “it’s after eclipse...” you drawled into a yawn. His entire body language shifted, excitement coursing through his veins. “I’m always too busy during the day to visit so I thought now would be the perfect time.” You sat up on your bed, he reached up and brushed the hair out of your face again. His eyes were completely memorizing, and he touched you with the gentleness only your mother did. “O-okay.”

Neteyam smiled at you with such kindness, even with his size you didn’t feel threatened in slightest. “I thought since you never get to go out I would take you tonight. Of course, you would be under my protection the entire time.”

Your face lit up, you could finally leave and see what’s outside these dull walls. But at the back of your head the sound of your mother's voice telling you what not to do rang strong. The fear of disappointing her was even stronger and the fear of potential punishment. “I- I can’t.”

“No one will find out, I promise.” His amber eyes peered up at you with the same heart wrenching expression as the other day. “You wouldn’t want to make me sad, would you? I- I just thought you would want to spend time with me.” It was manipulative, he knew but it worked flawlessly with you. Neteyam would make up for this one transgression later. “Fine, just wait for me outside please. " you said in a nervous whisper.

Neteyam didn’t take his eyes off you as you slid into your “outside” clothing, at some point he would need to get you actual ones instead of the odd human fabrics that cover too much. You hastily slipped your mask on, taking in a deep breath as you did. He hated that thing, hopefully soon he could get rid of it. A very subtle, almost unnoticeable feeling of butterflies filled your stomach as you exited the lab.

“You ready, baby?” The word sounded foreign on his tongue but music to your ears. You nodded in excitement, letting Neteyam grasp your hand and pull you along. He was gentle with you no matter how much excitement was coursing through his veins. You moved in unison through the thick leaves, granted he whisked you off your feet anytime you seemed to falter. The farther away from the encampment you got, the happier you became.

The forest was naturally lit with bioluminescent flowers, vines, and grasses of all kinds. The noise of animals coming out to play filled your ears and for once it did not frighten you. Neteyam was basking in your joy, your voice carried only the excitement of someone innocent to this world. And when you glanced at him? It felt like Ewya herself had sent you to make his heart ache.

To avoid any possible maimings or accidental injuries he kept you very close to him. If Neteyam’s arm was not around you then his hand was on yours. The warmth you radiated felt like his only life source. To your surprise, he was naturally funny and laid back. You had only assumed he was cold, stern and serious, this must be a side of him he only showed a few.

You spoke with him more than anyone, babbling about everything you saw, heard or felt. It may seem obnoxious to others but to him it was like a melody being played by a flute. Each time you squeezed his fingers he felt the blood rush to his head, pounding at his skull in the most beautiful way. You had completely and irrevocably captured his heart.

As the evening progressed the original point of this journey was almost lost to the daze you put him in. Instead of immediately taking you to the sacred place he opted for the stream where you originally found him, you could call it a second, better, impression. It was memorizing in the eyes of a girl who never got to leave her cave of comfort. The fish glowing beneath a gentle stream, a waterfall glistening under the light of several moons.

But this place would be the start of your inevitable downfall. It started off as a dare that turned into swimming half nude with a man twice your size. You let the water flow past you, cradling your body in its warmth. Neteyam was a better swimmer than you, granted you had never gotten the chance before. You chased him in circles below the surface, quickly becoming distracted by the fish that swam by.

The orange was your favorite, reminding you of the sunset. His favorite was the yellow, said it reminded him of you because yellow was the color of happiness and you made him happy… It was a very sappy way of flirting but it worked. Neteyam spent most of his time indulging you on what you wanted or asked the entire night and he did not mind for one second.

You asked him personal questions no one else dared to, further carving your way into his soul. If he thought he knew what love was before he was terribly wrong. Whatever you were doing to him was much worse in all the right ways. It was about the time he came to the realization, staring into your eyes and seeing your future together, you started to nod off. Your eyes become droopy, yawns escaping your throat every other sentence.

Neteyam would stay like this forever if he could, drowning in your existence. Your health was more important to him though and you desperately needed sleep to survive. You tried to fight him off when he said it was time to go, whining to stay here forever. It was cute, and he almost didn’t make you leave, until another adorable yawn left you.

He whisked you off your feet without protest, wrapping your legs around him so he could carry you home. You felt embarrassed at first, realizing you probably looked like a baby being carried by their mother. But then you began to feel his breath on your neck sending goosebump down your spine, long fingers wrapping around you to keep you in place. The low, deep, whisper of his voice telling you sweet nothings echoing in the walls of your mind.

A new sensation washed over you as Neteyam’s lips brushed against your ears ever so slightly. A sweet ache between your legs that progressively got worse the longer he held you. You attempted to pull away, embarrassed he could feel the heat, but he easily overpowered you. Neteyam was determined to keep you in place, as close to him as humanly possible.

He paused his stride, gazing at you for a moment and then back to the forest ahead. You avoided his eyes, but you could feel the smirk creep onto his face. He didn’t say anything on the way home, deep in thought it seemed. However, you could hear his breath becoming ever so slightly heavier.

Neteyam should be a good little soldier and take you home and feign ignorance. He noticed every sound, every look, every smell, every movement coming from you. The warm feeling across his waist that was driving him to the brink of insanity. His own arousal was bound to be noticed the second he put you down… How far could he go with you before he was stopped? You wanted him and why should he not give you what you wanted?

Sneaking back inside the second time was easier than the first, and this time he intended to stay a little longer than necessary. You were drowsy, too tired to change yourself into dry clothing. You probably told yourself he was used to seeing people in less clothes and that it was nothing to Neteyam. Oh how wrong you were. He managed to keep quiet though, attempting to avoid the thing between his legs.

“Time for bed, yawne.” You threw yourself onto the bed, melting into the mattress. Sleep evaded you, the wetness between your legs making it unbearable to get comfortable. To your surprise, he climbed on top, hovering mere inches from your face. “You okay, baby girl?” His ears twitched, Neteyam’s tail betraying his thoughts. There it was again, the foreign nickname that rolled off his tongue like honey.

You crossed your legs together tightly, “I-I’m okay.” He cocked his head to the side, bringing a finger up to brush your face. “I can help you if there’s something wrong,” he purred. You gulped, opening your legs ever so slightly to make a little more room, but that only made the ache worse. His knee found its place between your thighs, applying pressure to the one place you were trying to avoid.

You turned away and evaded his gaze. You felt like a complete idiot, a grown woman acting like a horny teenager, it was disgusting! However, when you looked back at him he was still looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask for his help. His knee moved forward once more, you bit your lip to avoid the sound attempting to escape. “I can show you what helps me, yawne.”

He whispered lowly, you didn’t have time to think, or reply before his lips were connecting to yours. You attempted to push him back, tell him no, this was wrong, and you could get in so much trouble. But the feeling of his legs between yours was easing whatever plagued you. A sound of pleasure escaped you before you could stop it, and that seemed to embolden him.

His lips pressed harder against yours, the sweetness of his mouth made your mind hazy. Neteyam’s tongue found itself entangled with yours, and you found yourself getting lost in the moment. The feeling of need was quickly becoming too much so you moved your hips against him, desperately trying to release the pressure.

Neteyam chuckled into your mouth, his fangs glistening in the light. “All you had to say was your problem was down there,” he purred. “I can fix that for you,” Neteyam’s voice turned into an exhilarating whisper, sending chills down your spine. You shivered at the feeling of his fingers gently slipping inside your waistband, hovering over the spot you really wanted him.

You grabbed his hand, your nerves getting the best of you. “W-what if someone finds out.” Neteyam moved forward, cupping your pussy . It was so wet and desperate for him, how could he stop? “I won’t tell if you don’t.” You closed your eyes, nodding your head. Neteyam kissed you once more, this time more rough than before. Internally, he hoped everyone would find out.

He slipped his finger inside of you, his eyes growing wide at how tight you were. He could feel the heat emanating from your core, and you were practically throbbing. Neteyam’s fingers were large enough to easily reach your sweet spot, stretching you out as he added another. You clenched around him, a high pitched sound leaving your lips.

He groaned at the sight of you, you were far too good to be true. Neteyam leaned down, gently nipping at your neck and sucking on your pulse point. His fangs occasionally gliding across your sensitive skin. Neteyam continued to pleasure you, fingers moving at a steady rhythm, a pace he knew he could keep up for hours.

You bit your lip to hold back your whines, each breathy exhale turning into a high pitched moan. The sound was like music to Neteyam, he couldn't get enough of you. His tongue snaked out of his mouth, tasting your skin as he left marks. He wanted everyone to know you belonged to him, in one way or another.

His thumb began to circle your clit, thankfully human anatomy was similar to his own. His tail wrapped around one of your legs, pulling it to the side, allowing him more access. You gripped onto him, burying your face in his chest to hide the embarrassment of the sound leaving your lips.

Neteyam kissed your forehead, nuzzling you softly as he quickened his pace. You clenched tightly around his fingers, bucking your hips against his hand, riding it out as much as possible. Neteyam had you pinned under him, mercilessly trying to pull out your orgasm. He was almost certain he would cum in his loincloth.

"You're doing so well for me, baby girl." He purred into your ear, his tongue darting across it as his hand worked you. His fingers consistently applying pressure at the spongy spot inside of you. His thumb continued to move across your clit, working it to match the pace. You gripped tightly to his broad shoulders, rolling your hips against his hand as you felt your body begin to give way. "Oh, I-I-I..."

“Hmm? Baby girl I can’t hear you.” His breath was hot on your neck. “S-sgood, Teyam,” your new nickname for him made him groan. His fingers continued to move, making your words come out more high pitched and incoherent than before. He nipped at your neck, biting it and sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

He didn't want to stop, he didn't want this moment to end. The feeling of your warm cunt tightening around him as your body tensed. Your nails digging into his shoulders, you back arching and hips bucking. His hand moved at a steady pace as your body began to unravel, letting yourself go. The euphoric feeling washing over you like a tidal wave.

Neteyam took his time as he eased you through it, gently bringing you down as he whispered sweet nothings. He peppered kisses across your face, murmuring how good you were to him as you relaxed. "Good girl," he whispered. He carefully removed his fingers, and your body mourned the loss of him. “You did so good for me, yawne.”

Your body was limp underneath him, your weighted breaths slowing. “I’m so tired,” you murmured. Shh, go to sleep, yawne. I’ll clean you up.” And he did exactly what he said, unsurprisingly. He took the time out of his night to carefully clean up the mess he made on your body and clothes. It was pathetic to admit but at some point, he came in his loincloth, and it was leaking out onto your sheets.

Neteyam watched you sleep peacefully until the light began to shine into the camp. He rushed back home and thankfully, no one noticed his disappearance. This became a routine between the two of you, and Lo’ak became his best wingman. He pretended to not know anything, made excuses, and visited you pretending like he wasn’t just going so Neteyam had an excuse to follow. For once he was very grateful his little bro was the way he was.

Things were looking up for you as well, Now you got to leave the human lab more often and you got to watch him train with the other boys. A few people noticed the way you watched him and how he watched you, the way he moved if you moved. It was kept quiet, as far as anyone knew you had no relationship. Neteyam was always teaching and showing you exciting new things, making you laugh constantly, showering you with affection you received from no one else. He worshiped you in a way you never thought possible.

Neteyam was completely beside himself, and it was going to kill him eventually. You told him you loved him, were proud of him and he was so much more than just the perfect son. You liked him for the reasons no one else did, seeing him for how he truly was and wanted to be. It was no wonder he was infatuated by your existence.

Neteyam, thankfully, found enough self-control to not fuck you. To do enough to keep you attached to him but not enough to ruin you completely. He was pretty positive he wouldn’t even be able to fit inside you anyway. It didn’t change the fact he thought about it every single day. It was hard to explain the things he was feeling but he knew he was stuck to you. Without you he wouldn’t be able to breathe, eat, or sleep like he used to. Neteyam’s existence would become completely meaningless without your presence.

But for now, it was new and perfect. Shiny like a freshly carved toy bound to break.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

All good things come to an end, you learned that after Quartich had returned and Neteyam was being stolen away to a reef clan too far from you. The moon stopped its rotation, all of the life you had being stolen away after he uttered the words goodbye. It was an indescribable pain, unrelenting and all consuming. It took weeks for you to be able to leave your bed, for the nightmares to cease, but the thoughts of him haunted you at every waking moment.

The only place you could find him was at the river, in memories. A part of you wished to go back, to have never left the lab and stayed oblivious to his existence. In your heart you knew he was bound to carve his place into it one way or another. Neteyam used to say how he prayed to the great mother for you and Ewya always finds a way. Day and night blurred together, you stopped counting the hours and let them fly past you. In your darkest moments you repeated a chant to yourself, a prayer almost, One day, Neteyam will come back for you.

He cried, a pathetic display, in front of his parents to bring you with. Neytiri was disgusted, but not enough to hate you as much as spider. He took that as a small win in a losing battle. Jake never faltered on his stance, only family could come unless you wished to put yourself in danger. All he received for his pleas was sympathy from his siblings and a harsh scolding from his parents. It felt as thought his heart had been torn from his chest, the air sucked out of his lungs. You would be here alone, without him, doing all the things you should be doing with him. Neteyam would be stuck in the middle of the ocean with strangers on a droll island.

He did not adapt to the way of water like Lo’ak did. His brother had finally found an environment to thrive in but he was completely lost without you. It was becoming harder to maintain the perfection his father strived for. Even whilst in mourning he had to care of everyone, protect them, comfort them and receive none of it in return. It was a hard life to live but what other choice did he have?

Neteyam only ever felt happy again when he drifted off in his sleep. He was always with you in his dreams, feeling, touching, hearing and smelling you again. For a few hours each night he was back in your room making stupid jokes and listening to rave about your newest discovery. It was always sunny in his dreams, even when it was nightfall. Each time Neteyam closed his eyes it was as if he was in the promised land… but everyone has to wake up eventually.

To ease the eternal ache, he started pleasuring himself more often. It would be a sad sight if anyone ever caught the once mighty warrior stopping to such levels but desperate times called for desperate measures. Neteyam fully intended on stealing you away one day, human or avatar body he didn’t care anymore. If anyone was against you he would kill them… except his own blood, of course.

When he connected to Ewya he saw you, crouched down by your mother in a body he didn’t recognize. Oh, your avatar, your mother is finally allowing you to use it. You were still ethereal in the new body, still tiny, but you looked much more like him. You felt so close to him, your warmth radiating through the connection. He was at peace again, for a limited time only. Neteyam was dragged away the second he felt a shift in the water… Kiri

“We’re leaving… now!” You scrambled to grab the med supplies before you leaped onto the helicopter. For all that it was worth, you hoped Kiri was okay. Still, a very selfish, disgusting, part of you was glad you now had an excuse to visit Neteyam. Norm wouldn’t allow you to go in Avatar form, too early to tell if it would last the long journey ahead. You nervously picked at your fingernails the entire way there, she would okay you knew it.

Neteyam could only watch as your little form rushed past everyone to get to his sister. He never left her side or yours for that matter, choosing to stay outside and watch you work. He couldn’t put into words how grateful he was for you, for the effort you were devoting to his family, to saving his sister. He felt a sliver of happiness just watching you again, seeing that you were alive and well.

You hadn’t given him the time of day though, too busy checking Kiri’s pulse and giving her an IV. If you were being honest with yourself this didn’t appear to be a normal human illness. Almost all people can wake up from seizures naturally, almost, as she wasn’t waking up at all. You didn’t know as much about Ewya as everyone else but if this happened whilst she was connected to the tree… then it was probably due to that.

Of course, you hadn’t voiced this out loud in fear of insulting Norm and his hard work. Also, Neytiri breathing down your neck had you too scared to move, a good mother, but a very scary woman. Eventually, you were all kicked out and you nearly fell on your face rushing onto the woven walkways. They were much more bouncy than you expected but a rather large Metkayina boy caught you before you dived head first into the ocean.

“You should be more careful, alien.” You gazed up at him with wide eyes, he was even bigger than Teyam! The last word was in Na’vi but you knew very well what it meant. Luckily, it wasn’t filled with disdain like it usually was, rather disappointment paired with curiosity. A strange thing you did notice was his hand remained on your shoulder, was this normal? “Thank you…” His head raised, eyes scanning you cautiously, “It’s Aonung.”

The crowd around the marui had finally begun to disappear and Neteyam was able to release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He stood up from his crouching position, thanking ewya for saving his sister and welcoming her back to the land of the living. It was times like this he was grateful his dad pushed him so hard, if he was too weak, too careless, she could very well be dead.

Neteyam slowly stalked out of the marui, lost in his own thoughts. He knew you would love the ocean, the water, the creatures, and all of the plants you fawn over. His dream was to be able to show you it eventually, under more positive circumstances. For now, he would accept showing you what he could whilst you remained here. A childlike smile graced his features as he looked around, head turning in all directions to spot you.

“I’m going to kill him,” his eyes twitched and Neteyam’s hands unconsciously balled up into fists, granted they were not the same as those with four fingers. Aonung was touching you, talking to you as if you weren’t an alien. After all the bullshit he’d done to his siblings he had the nerve to touch you? He felt the bile in his gut rise to his throat as you smiled at something he said. “It’s a waste of time,” Lo’ak appeared beside him and if he was in his right mind Neteyam would have demanded to know where he has been.

Except he wasn’t in his right mind. “Fish lips,” his younger brother mumbled under his breath before turning to go into the marui where Kiri rested. Jealousy, rage, hate, hurt, Neteyam couldn’t put a name to everything that was boiling inside, but it was too much. You hadn’t even fucking glanced in his direction the entire night. Before he knew it his feet had carried him right behind you, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

“Teyam,” you exclaimed, more excited than you have been in months. Your smile fell when you noticed the way his eyes were staring daggers into the water boy, enemies perhaps? “Back off,” he gritted through his teeth as he poked at Aonung’s chest. Obviously, this wasn’t a fight the other was interested in. He glanced at you with a raised brow, if he had a brow, and back at your Teyam.

“Okayyy then,” he lifted his hands in mock surrender. “It was nice meeting you, human.” Aonung spoke to Neteyam more than you, his smirk directed only at him. You swore you heard him growl lowly, maybe the heat was getting to your head. He didn’t move as he watched the fish boy walk away, his tail swaying violently behind him. “Neteyam?” You turned to him, staring at his face after what felt like centuries.

“Teyam-” you were cut off as his hand wrapped around your wrist, literally dragging you away from the camp. You protested at first, slamming your fist into his arm, offended by how he was behaving. Did the reef people make him cruel? “Let. Me. Go!” you shouted at him, but your cry fell on deaf ears. The grip he had on you wasn’t bruising but his strength far outmatched yours and this was completely unfair. You whipped your head around to watch where he was taking you, the sandy beach quickly turning into heavy shrubbery.

It was beautiful at the very least, you told yourself to remain positive. There hasn’t been a time where you’ve seen Neteyam this angry, especially at you. He paused in his steps when he felt you were now far enough away from everyone. Neteyam let your hand fall to your sides, taking a deep breath, “you!” You flicked when he raised his voice, your fear only heightened at your sheer size difference. "Y-yea, me."

Neteyam huffed, his eyebrows furrowed and gaze piercing though you. “Why haven’t I seen you all evening” Normally, he kept all of his feelings under check, making sure to never express them in case they would upset someone else. Now, the anger radiated off of his shoulders and his words dripped with malice. His question came out as more of a demand, and you could feel your own anxiety spike up. “I was helping Kiri.”

“Helping? You were too busy swooning over fish lips to help anyone.” The words fell from his mouth faster than he could process, regret immediately flooding his system. You wished the ground would open up and Ewya would swallow you whole. “I- I-'' you choked on your own words, tears welling in your eyes. “You don’t love me anymore?” Your damned mask began to fog as you stumbled over your words.

Neteyam's hands were around your shoulders before you could even react, pulling you into him, “don’t cry please, you’ll suffocate to death.” His tone was gentle and he spoke softly, but you could still hear the pain in his voice. The tears came quicker now and your heart hurt. His large hands ran up and down your back in an attempt to calm you down.

"I- I'm sorry, I don't mean to," You sniffled, attempting to keep the tears in your eyes. Neteyam didn’t mean to make you cry, although seeing you like this for him was far better than watching you with the other. Shit, was this manipulation? He dropped down on his knees so you could almost be the same height, placing his hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “Shh, I still love you. I would never stop loving you. No matter the time we spend apart or the distance between us, you’re in my heart forever, yawne.”

He always knew the right things to say, it made your heart swell and warmth fill your body. Neteyam could make the worst situations feel okay. "I-I," Neteyam placed a hand over his heart, "you don’t need to say anything to me, I've upset you." You sniffled "I still love you too," Neteyam released a deep breath, his face turning stern once more. “Let me prove to you how much I care about you.”

It took minutes before you were laid out on the sand, your pants long discarded. Neteyam had your legs over his shoulders, devouring you. Your toes curled against the cool beach as the wind blew through your hair, the breeze from the water chilling the heat radiating off of you. It was a new sensation, his tongue rubbing circles around your clit. The feeling was foreign and intense, sending jolts throughout your body.

Your hips bucked as his fingers prodded at your entrance, forcing all three inside as an attempt to stretch you more. Neteyam growled in response, the noise sending vibrations throughout your core. His fingers pumped in and out of you, curling against the top of you to press into the soft spongy spot that had you crying out. Neteyam lapped at the wetness leaking out of you, drinking up every single drop of you.

His eyes met yours, you felt as if the whole world was spinning, a euphoric feeling bubbling inside you, building and building. Neteyam's tongue pressed against your clit once more and you felt the orgasm ripple through you, your walls contracting against his fingers and squeezing them. The pleasure was overwhelming and you couldn't do much but writhe and cry out as Neteyam brought you down from your high, licking you clean of your mess.

He pulled away and you whined at the loss of his body heat, until you heard the sounds of his loincloth falling to the ground. You pulled your head up off the ground and gasped, he was large, incredibly too large for you. His tip was a bruising purple, shining with precum. Your eyes nearly burst out of your skull, it looked painfully hard as his veins popped out. “T-teyam-”

Neteyam climbed on top of you, shushing you with his finger. “I’ll be gentle I promise,” he purred, his hand snaking down to his tip, rubbing the sticky liquid around the head before placing himself at your entrance. “I’m gonna claim you, mark you with my scent so no one else fucking touches you.” The head of his cock prodded at your entrance and the pressure was intense, your walls achingly slow stretching to fit him. "I can't," Neteyam pushed the head of his cock into you, forcing a choked cry from your lips. “Shh, just be a good girl for me.”

It hurt, yet it felt good in the most bizarre way, a tingling sensation shooting through your body as he pushed deeper and deeper inside you. “Oh ewya, you’re so fucking tiny, baby girl,” he groaned as he pushed deeper. His cock was stretching your walls, the pain slowly disappearing as you grew used to his size. You could feel him against the very base of your cervix, his hips pressing flush against your thighs. “F-f-fuck,” you choked out in a choked whimper, trying to get accustomed to his girth and length, it had to be the size of your forearm at least.

Neteyam began to pump into you slowly, giving you a few seconds to adjust to his length before snapping his hips and forcing the air out of your lungs, causing you to scream and arch your back. You couldn't believe the noises coming out of your own mouth, the moans and cries echoing around the beach. Neteyam moved painfully slowly, thrusting himself in and out of you.

He used one of his large hands to press against your stomach, feeling his cock move inside of you. “You feel that, yawne?I can feel myself moving inside of you. Fuck, you're so perfect, sweetheart, taking all of me inside you.” He hissed as his movements got faster and more erratic. The feeling was indescribable, the mixture of pain and pleasure that had your head spinning and mind hazy.

Neteyam couldn’t fit all of himself in you no matter how hard he tried, he settled for slamming into the top of your cervix, forcing a scream from your lips. He hoped everyone could hear you screaming his name from miles away. “You like that, baby?” Neteyam growled, you wrapped your arms around his neck, clawing at his shoulders. “Ssyes teyam, sgood,” you slurred your words, feeling the waves of euphoria begin to roll inside of you again.

His thrusts started to become faster, and your mind began going numb. Your cunt clenched around him as your eyes welled with tears. “Teyam, p-please. Please!" You stuttered between moans and whimpers. Neteyam wrapped a hand around your neck, squeezing softly. "That’s my girl,” his praise made you whimper for more. His cock was throbbing inside you, his seed threatening to spill at any moment. "Louder, yawne. Everyone has to know you’re all mine," he growled into your ear, putting emphasis on 'mine’. Your entire body was going limp beneath him.

Neteyam removed his hand from your neck, wrapping his arm underneath your legs, spreading them as far as they could go and angling you so that he hit the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you, pounding against it rapidly. Your vision started to turn blurry and you felt yourself begin to fall over the edge again, a new kind of wave washing over you, “F-Fuck! Tey- teyam- please in for me!"

Your cunt clamped down around him, forcing Neteyam to cry out, his thrusts becoming shallow and erratic. You could feel Neteyam release inside of you, ropes of hot cum filling your insides, mixing with your own fluids.

The sound of a twig snapping nearby pulled you both out of your haze, “Neteyam!” Jake’s booking voice echoed around the beach. Both of your heads shot to the left, staring at the mortified father whose eyes were boring into you. Oh, you were completely fucked.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The walk of shame you both endured was the most humiliating moment of your entire life. It was an excruciating silent trip back home but at the very least Jake waited until you boarded the helicopter, with a traumatized look on his face, before he called your mother. Without a doubt he told Neytiri soon after and you could only imagine her utter rage. Norm and Max said nothing, opting to stare out the window and dissociate from the entire situation completely. You were extremely grateful for their silence.

You couldn’t imagine the scolding he was about to receive, the punishment he was going to endure. Your mom, although mortified, let you off the hook easily. No avatar for another month, and no Neteyam for the rest of eternity. That one hurt, you felt the same soul crushing despair as you did when he first left.

On the other side of Pandora Neteyam remained completely unphased. He took the yelling, the punishment and everything else like a strong man. In the end he had won, you were covered in his scent and no one was going to touch you again. As for your future together? He had a plan for that too. Neteyam had already practically mated with you no matter what his mother said and once you’re in that new body, he would run away and do it again.

You may not realize it yet but he was coming back for you. One way or another you were going to come to the reef with him, be a part of his family, bear his children, and never ever leave his side again. Even if it meant disappointing his parents one final time, but he had hope in Ewya that would not be the case.

[alicefromwhichplanet]

Why Optimus being a good person in upper class/ Megatron being an angry rebellious lower class is a great and meaningful plot

Recently, with TFOne coming out, I’ve learned that the new movie made changes to Optimus and Megatron’s backstories and instead of giving them different backgrounds, like coming from different classes (like in tfp or idw1), they’re put in the same class as colleagues in mines. I’ve already seen people celebrating this as “an innovation/ something new” and an uplifting of Optimus’s character, because as the lower class he gets to rebel, therefore Megatron’s character aura won’t overshadow his. But actually, I am quite disappointed at this change. I think such arrangement is a worse one, not a better one, especially to those who love character depth and realist plots.

First of all, I want to argue that Optimus and Megatron carry every different roles in all transformers shows in general. By this I mean no matter how the plots change, the foundation of their motivations are different—maybe only except for Shattered Glass, where their roles are exchanged. Megatron’s foundation of motivation is: war/chaos. No matter how much his actions are justified, Megatron is still a bad guy, because he sticks to a path of violence and destruction rather than peace and negotiations. In contrast, (I put Megatron first because Optimus’s motivation is clearer if compared with Megatron) Optimus’s underlying logic (the foundation of his character motivation) is: peace/order. No matter how brilliant the battle scenes were, no matter how much he talked about “stopping Megatron at all costs”, Optimus’s final goal is to seek peaceful solution to the conflicts he engaged in, and find a way to resume order. That is also the basic logic of every transformers show, and how the playwrights justify autobots as the good guys, decepticons the bad guys. (This can be easily understood through series that give Megatron and decepticons fully justifiable motivations, like tfp and idw. They started the war because they were angry at the unjust treatments, and became villains because they eventually became a source of ongoing chaos and destruction)

With this premise, it is not difficult to see how brilliant and intelligent it is to put Optimus and Megatron in two different classes. Because people’s thoughts vary with very different experiences. In the past successful shows like tfp, the conflict between Optimus/Megatron is perfectly explained with an idealist/realist contrast.

Being an idealist advocate of freedom and equality is a successful way most Optimus(es) are portrayed. Under this premise, Optimus is basically a good person with strong sense of morality. He is aware of the problems in his system, seeks a change, but because he is from a more “privileged” class, or to say, closer to the power holders, he tends to develop an idealistic view of solving problems with milder approaches: handing in proposals, talking with congress members, or growing his own influence and trying to persuade the congress. In any of these cases, Optimus’s ideas are in line with his background. And like any well-written character, he is limited by what he can see in the class he belongs to.

As we’ve analyzed at the very beginning, Megatron’s characterization mainly revolves around “war and chaos”, one clever way (tfp and idw) playwrights used to make him more than just an evil stage prop is to make him more of a realist, in contrast with Optimus’s idealism. This usually comes with the backstory of Megatron coming from the bottom of the society, rebels with violence against social suppression he could not endure— at the same time, he also has a natural tendency to seek radical solutions. With this disadvantaged background, Megatron’s violent behaviors and refusal of peace are not groundless actions. It is a clever way to reflect the reality and increase plot depth. In my opinion, explaining “why the villain does evil” is the key to a successful story.

Another thing I want to argue is that, I don’t think giving Megatron and decepticons a justifiable backstory is diminishing/ “overshadowing” Optimus’s character. Because as we analyzed above, Megatron and Optimus have different roles to play. One overthrows the old system, the other rebuilds the new system. One raises the question, the other spends more efforts to find a feasible solution. Optimus and Megatron are two sides of the same coin. The depth of Megatron’s motivation actually decides how brave/noble/meaningful Optimus is in the act of “defeating” Megatron. For example, If Megatron’s “evil” is flatly portrayed as a bad-tempered child throwing a tantrum, Optimus’s “act of justice” is merely an older child calming the naughtiest kid in class.

Some believe that “not being able to stand up and rebel against suppression (like idw Megatron did)” made Optimus somehow “uncool” compared to Megatron. But he’s not. In fact, Optimus’s journey is not a bit easier compared to Megatron.

Instead of “suppressed class rebelling when there’s nothing to lose”, Optimus’s growth arc follows the route of a compassionate upper class who can look beyond where he stands for, and resonate with people who’s living under him and away from his life. Compared to Megatron’s “outward rebellion”, Optimus’s rebellion is “inward”: he has to fight himself to reach the higher ground— fighting the urge to step back into his conventional ways of thinking, fighting his self-doubts and inborn modesty to step back from leadership (very well presented in TFA and TFP), and by the end of the war, in most Megop fictions, Optimus has to fight back the urge to continue the war as he is used to, and step forward to “see” and “move” Megatron— understanding him, reaching out to him, loving him. Many people take “fighting on with the villains” as a braver, manly act, but actually stopping the conflict takes more courage and wisdom. And in the long run, it’s always a superior choice.

In short, I still think writing Megatron as the rebellious lower class and Optimus a compassionate upper class is a genius idea beyond comparison. They’re bound to be different, and there’s no harm in creating separate backstories for them. Like I’ve read in an early megop novel that has become a classic: “I’m here to do things you wouldn’t, so that you can do what’s right.” (Megs to OP)

In my own impression, Megatron is a radical revolutionary, and Optimus is an idealist reformer. The two carry different aims and functions in the plots, their values contradict and supplement each other, and so when they’re finally united, sitting down and listening to each other, their unity is incomparable.

[sapphic-agent]

So. I finally read this fuckass comic that's been talked about again recently. I'd only ever heard about it before so I decided to check it out. I'm gonna go through some of the pages and give my two cents because why not?

I'm not gonna lie to you guys, I don't get how Katara is "out of character" here. This is very reminiscent of Book 1 Katara, who was playful and teasing and immature and acted like, y'know, a kid. I know Bryke might have you thinking otherwise, but she shouldn't baby Aang all the time.

Especially because he is supposed to be practicing and just... isn't doing it. This was her way of lightheartedly trying to motivate him, which I think is pretty on brand for her.

You could make the argument that Katara is being dismissive here, but honestly? The subject clearly makes her uncomfortable. She was kissed (without consent) before a major battle by someone she saw as a friend. Of course she was uncomfortable. She has every right to not want to talk about or acknowledge it.

Calling that out of character is not doing Kataang shippers any favors when the most common criticism against them is their tendency to brush aside Katara's autonomy.

(At first when I saw this panel, I thought maybe she was being a little abrasive towards him. But... She's the same way with Toph in The Runaway. This isn't behavior that came out of nowhere. Why is it that it's only a problem when it comes to Aang?)

I guess a better question here is, is Aang out of character? For me, it's actually yes and no.

I think they made him overly mopey. Like yes, he's had his moments in the show, but drawing hearts in the dirt? What kind of shit is this??

Not to mention his weird little monologue inside the rock ("Who's really playing games here, Katara?" Are you actually serious, Bryke? Idc what anyone says, those words would never leave Aang's mouth). It feels like a bid to make him more sympathetic so that the reader feels bad for him. I'm fine labeling that OOC.

However...

Do I think Aang would purposely physically hurt Katara? No. Do I think Aang would get so caught up in his emotions that he stops being mindful of himself and his surroundings? Well.

Both times you could label an accident. But both times resulted from Aang being careless and being unable to regulate himself. Now, you could make the argument that this is OOC because Aang learned and developed past this point. And I would agree, if we were talking about Book 2 Aang or even mid to late Book 1 Aang.

But honestly, character regression is very on point for Book 3 Aang. Especially post DOBS. Most of you already know about my beef with Book 3 Aang, so I won't get into that.

Now, I do think that Aang would be a little more apologetic and guilty considering how regretful he was in Book 1. But him prioritizing his own feelings instead of how he affected her? Completely on-brand. In EIP he was upset about how he messed up his chances with Katara, not that he kissed her without consent and upset her.

But even if this couldn't fit Katara and Aang as characters, even if they were outlandishly OOC and completely different from the characters we knew, that doesn't really matter. This comic is official and canon. Just like the comics where Aang ignores her in favor of his weird fanclub and she swallows her hurt and puts up with it. Just like LOK where Aang is a neglectful father and Katara is a mild mannered housewife.

You can dislike this comic and criticize its portrayals all you want. But it's still canon. You can't ignore canon, especially when your main argument for Kataang being better than Zutara is that it's canon

[anothertimdrakestan]

Jealous Jason Todd Headcanon

~loooong requested hope you enjoy some brotherly competition~

- jason had no idea he wanted you until dick called "dibs" the first night he met jason's mysterious "friend" and newest bat-recruit

- at first, jason didn't care. like at all. but that never stopped him from being an asshole

- "my brother y/n really? what's there to like? i didn't see you as a musical theatre and dad-joke enjoyer" he'd scoff anytime dick tried to make a move

- that didn't stop richard fucking grayson.

- "hey! y/n! fancy seeing you here!" .. "it's the batcave dick i work here" .. "oh, well are you working all night? maybe we can grab some big belly burger after?" .. "we have patrol together you dork"

- honestly, it was endearing being adored, worshipped even. from handwritten poems, to a little mini batarang necklace, and all the weapons your heart could desire

- and for all his dork-tendencies, dick knew a thing or too about hand placement...

- "put me down richard" .. "you literally fell into my arms" .. "i would've landed on my feet" .. "sure princess, but aren't my arms a little better?" he'd tease, sweeping you bridal style out the back door of the gala you two had just rescued

- it was somewhere in between the gift giving, rooftop dates, and stolen glances that jason realized he might want -slightly, just a tiny bit- more.

- okay; he wanted you all to himself.

- but he's always been shit at explaining it

- where dick was obvious and flirtatious, jason started subtle: always inching closer to you, keeping a longing gaze set on your every move-even if it meant tripping himself up in battles- you noticed he would sooner get shot than let you catch a scrape

- and just like dick's coddling, it got annoying

- "jace i've been on the team for months, i think i can watch out for myself" .. "i know, i protect the people i care about" his response was almost a whisper, and before you could pry further, he disappeared, replaced with a familiar cheesy grin "hi y/n! wanna catch a movie tonight?" .. "uh, one sec dick! i need to check on jace"

- but jason was never anywhere to be found. every time he let you in, he disappeared just as quick.

- when you started toying with new weaponry jason was there, you still got butterflies remembering the way he pressed himself against you while fixing your form, his calloused fingertips lighting fires as he subtly adjusted your grip on your gun

- "jay is this right?" .. "mhm your grip is perfect, but the recoil will get you, slide your leg backwards to brace for the impact of firing" .. the minute his hand touched your thigh a shiver ran across your body, against your shaking will .. "oh, sorry i didn't mean to-" .. you cut him off "no it's good, you're good" but before you could turn around to unpack the cloud of tension in the room, jason cleared his throat and gruffly said "fire" ruining any chance of an emotional conversation. three perfect shots to the targets, and with a satisfying nod he was gone once again

- so when dick asked you out on a real date, to a restaurant whose menu alone gave you anxiety at the thought of ordering, you realized you had to give jason the ultimatum

- but for once in his (second) life, jason was way ahead of you.

- "you said yes to dick?" jason was sitting at your desk when you entered your own room, overly dramatic but it was jason todd after all.

- "do i have a reason to say no?"

- "you hate fancy restaurants. you need like a week to plan what you'll order otherwise you'll just be stressed the whole time"

- you rolled your eyes, but jason wasn't finished: "and you hate movies, sitting in one place watching a film you probably haven't heard of, pretending to enjoy the nuance"

- he wasn't wrong. "whatever jace, that doesn't-" .. "i can tell you what's gonna happen. he'll order a wine too sweet for your taste, and talk to the waiter enough to make you want to crawl under the table. then after a perfectly lovely dinner he'll take you to a rooftop to 'show you the sights' and you'll have your first kiss. but you hate the city skyline, it reminds you you're far from home. you like the sound of the ocean and the rusting of the forest. you like something real."

- your heart was in your throat. but you needed something more: "say it jason. don't tell me the future with dick. fucking say it."

- jason stood up, closing the distance between you, eyes now desperate and wild: "say what? that i've loved you since the minute i lost you? that i feel like ive known you forever? that i don't need to learn to love you like he does, i was built for it? that i feel like i was made for you? how do i put it in a few useless words"

- "you just did jay." you whispered, letting him lock his lips in yours with a smile.

- "please go break richard's fucking heart and come home to me." he grumbled, to which you agreed, letting dick down softly and promising to set him up with one of your friends in return for his kindness- a deal which he wouldn't let you forget

- years later, it was more of a household joke, dick claiming he was the catalyst to your and jason's lovestory. to which jason wholly despised, but you never minded giving dick a little credit

[storm-angel989]

hihiiiiii!! I'd liek to request val w reader and reader on her period/being sick jus fluffy comfort w that ?? I'm going through it and oml its terrible and I wanna b coddled by my comfort character lmao, thanks if u do do it. if not totally ok!!! hope u have a nice dayyyyy <3

I feel that pain in my soul! Enjoy and I hope this story brings you the comfort you crave. <3

He knew it was coming before she did. 

So when he came home from another long day and found her curled up in her bed with a heating pad, he wasn’t surprised in the slightest. 

“Princessa, why are you in here?” He asked, as if he didn’t know the answer. 

She was embarrassed. He knew it, she knew it and they both pretended that wasn’t why she curled up in her own bed on the seventh day of each month. He wasn’t sure if it was the event itself or the fear of ruining his bedsheets that led her to crawl away from him, only for him to chase after her, reassure her each month that yes, he loved her, and no, he didn’t want her to sleep away from him. A little blood never hurt anyone, after all- it was the gift that would allow them to have children someday, if they so desired. 

But he didn’t say that- he knew better. The last time he tried to make a positive comment on the event, by telling her that his videos starring actresses on their period made the most profit, was met with general resistance and quite a bit of accusations about the stupidity of men. 

“It’s a curse,” she had proclaimed with tears streaming down her face. “And it hurts, Val!”

And so, he resigned himself to privately tracking her cycle- simply so he could be prepared for when the time inevitably hit. 

“I’m here,” she muttered in response. “Go away. I don’t feel good.” 

He knew she didn’t mean that. 

“I know, mi amore.” He replied as he sat on the bed next to her. “How can I make it better?”

“Something for the pain, and chocolate. Please. Lots of it.” She replied listlessly. 

Unease settled in Valentino’s chest. She never took painkillers- let alone asked for them. He pushed his hand against her forehead and to his relief, his palm was met with coolness. Probably just a bad bout of cramps. 

Carefully, he helped her sit up and held the heating pad in position while she swallowed down the pink pills. Once they were safely in her system, she tucked herself willingly into his arms. 

The weight of her head on his chest as she curled into a tighter ball made him wonder how she could handle this each month, handle the pain and continue to go about her life as if she wasn’t actively fighting her own biological battle. He tucked her head under his chin and kissed her forehead softly. She needed to understand that she didn’t have to be miserable by herself each month. That he loved her, no matter what was going on in her life. 

“Will you let me take you to our room, reader?” he asked gently, “I have your favorite stashed away. And I can order in dinner for us both, if you feel like eating. But you belong in there- next to me. Not hidden away in darkness.” 

That, at least, seemed to pique her interest. But as quickly as she considered it, her head rested back against him and she shook her head.

“It hurts to walk,” she whined quietly. “I don’t want to move.”

“Then allow me,” he responded. 

He wrapped her into his arms and, making sure the heating pad came with them, carried her off to the safety and comfort of their bedroom. He settled her against the overstuffed pillows and gently tugged the now cool heating pad out of her hands, replacing  it with a bar of chocolate and the television remote. 

She tore into the wrapper and took a bite. He raised an eyebrow at her. Had she eaten anything yet today? He mentally kicked himself for not checking on her earlier. He knew she had a tendency to not eat for the first few hours and then eat everything in sight. That usually resulted in a tummy ache in addition to the pain. His poor princessa didn’t need anymore pain. 

“I’m going to warm this up for you, you decide what you want for dinner,” he said slowly. “Can I convince you to drink something in the meantime?”

“Water, milk, I don’t care. And I know what I want for dinner.”

“Then text it to me, princessa, so I get it right,” he replied as he walked back towards the kitchen. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her settle back and flip on the television. Good, if nothing else, she seemed to be more content. 

In the kitchen, he tossed the heating pad into the microwave and checked his phone. Ah. Of course, she wanted her favorite meal from her favorite restaurant. He could have guessed that, but better to let her tell him.  He placed the order and pulled the now warm pad from the microwave. He carried it back to her and to his relief, she looked a little brighter. 

“What did you give me, Val? This is the best I’ve felt all day,” she demanded.

His eyes met hers. “Nothing you would object to, Princessa. I promise. Just relax. Dinner is on its way.” He laid the heating pad against her belly and smoothed back her hair, pressing his lips to her forehead. 

“Snuggles while we wait?” She asked as she reached for him. 

He gave her a smile and wrapped her into his arms as he climbed into bed with her. She snuggled into him and he held her gently, careful to keep the heating pad in place. Whatever his princessa wanted, he would make damn well sure she got. As he reached to rub her back, a realization came to mind. 

She asked to snuggle with him. That never happened during her time of the month. Maybe, just maybe, she was starting to trust his love for her after all.

[devilishchaos]

BABYYY drop the daddy Ruben fic, don't be shy <3

Calls | Dad!Rúben Dias imagine

Rating / genre: pure fluff

Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias

Summary: Rúben goes on a business trip. Me and our son George are sad he is away, so we face time him.

Warnings: use of pet names "babe", "baby"

Word Count: 1 347 words

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

While begging my husband to go on this 3 day business trip, I thought to myself "What can happen in the span of 3 days, right?"  Well, a lot. 

I'm currently 27 weeks pregnant with twins and have a year and a half year old baby-toddler that needs my attention 24/7. Not that I am complaining but the pregnancy alone is being hard on me and my beautiful son throwing constant tantrums about missing his dad doesn't help my situation. Now, I was usually the preferred parent, but George had the tendency to not want to eat and nap while Rúben was away.

Today was going to be a long and hard day for me, I just knew it. I woke up from my nap at 7:00 am, got ready and headed to wake George up because I had an appointment with my OBGYN in an hour and had no one to look after him while I was gone, so I had to take him with me. 

It was a battle but I somehow managed to get him ready for the day, made it to my appointment safely and on time and both of us were back in the coziness of our household before we knew it. 

The moment we stepped through the door - the nausea hit me. And my head started spinning. I somehow made it to the bedroom and laid down on the bed and tried to take deep breaths in hopes for it to go away faster. I closed your eyes for a second and out of nowhere a loud cry pierced the silence. 

With eyes wide open, all my senses on alert, I sat up in the bed and looked at the door to see George standing there, tears falling from his eyes and his tiny hands holding his favorite stuffed animal close to his chest. 

"What happened baby? Are you okay?" I asked, holding out my hands in his direction. 

"Dada.." he managed to say in between wheezing. 

I gave him a sad knowing look. Ever since he was born he was a mama's boy but ever since I got pregnant again he looked up to Rúben more and more, and wanted to do everything that he was doing whether it was directed towards me or other people. And Rúben was the happiest person on earth, soaking in every moment because he knew that it could be taken away from him just as fast as it came. 

"You miss daddy, huh bud?" I softly asked as I helped him get up on the bed to join me. 

He nodded, the movement making his tiny curls shake a little. 

"How about we call him? Would that make you feel better?" 

"Yeah.." George mumbled, while wiping his eyes.

I was already reaching for my phone before I got an answer from him. Since Rúben is in New York and we are in Manchester there is a 5 hour time difference, but it was now way after noon in Manchester and knowing Rúben, he had been awake for some time, so that's why I suggested calling him. Okay and maybe because I miss him too and want to talk to him, but that's another topic. 

I dialed his contact and gave George the phone. After two rings I saw Rúben's gorgeous face and he saw a head full of curls and two big dark eyes watching closely the screen, since George held the phone so close to him. 

"Hey, gorg-" your husband started "-oh, hello big man. What are you doing with mama's phone?" you saw him smiling widly. 

"Dada, miss you." George said and started crying again. 

"Oh, no. Don't cry buddy. I miss you so much too." 

"Home." 

"I'm coming home tomorrow, baby and I'm not going anywhere after that, okay?" Rúben asked as a sad smile made its way on his face. 

"Home now?" George asked as he tilted his head slightly the exact same way Rúben does and it made your heart throb. 

"I wish buddy, but I have one more thing to do and then I promise I'm gonna catch the first flight back home and I'm coming straight to you. But I need you to do something for me, okay. You have to eat lunch and dinner, and you have to go to sleep when mommy says. Can you do that for me? That way I'm going to come home faster. Do we have a deal, G?" Rúben asked, slightly raising his eyebrows. 

"A deal.." his son responded while rubbing his eye "Now play." 

"Okay, you can go and play now. Loves you." your husband said as he leaned into the camera and kissed it, your guys's little tradition that now George did too. 

"Loves you." George said cutely and kissed your front camera. He gave you the phone and ran out of your bedroom and into his playroom. 

I took the phone and positioned it against my big water bottle in front of me as I greeted my hansome husband "Hi, meu amor." 

"Hey, mama. How are you holding up? Big man giving you a hard time?" Rúben asked you giving you sad eyes. 

"He just misses you." I exhaled "Nothing changed after the call yesterday, we're going to see what happens today. I miss you too, tho. We miss you too." I simply explained rubbing my round belly.  

"I'm sorry babe. I miss all of you. Can't wait to be back home. I'm never leaving again." he shook his head as to make it more believable.

"Rúben, we talked about this. What you're doing right now is for your career and for us. So that you can take more time off while the twins come, just as you did when we welcomed George. Don't feel guilty, you're not doing anything wrong, babe. We'll get through this. We have to. In fact it's almost over." I smiled at him trying to lighten the mood. 

"This is why I made you my wife. Eu te amo muito." Rúben said looking lovingly at the screen in front of him. 

"I love you more." 

"Period." he said while snapping his fingers, which made both of you to start giggling.

"Stop. I'm gonna pee my pants!" I said in between laughing. 

"Okay, okay. So how did the appointment go? Everything alright?" Rúben's face went completely serious in a spare of seconds. 

"Yes. Babies are doing just fine." I said and took a breathing break "I however, am struggling. Babe, I'm 27 weeks into this pregnancy and do you know what my doctor told me? That I'm measuring full term compared to a singleton pregnancy. That's very overwhelming considering that I hopefully have 8 or 9, 10 weeks left in the absolute ideal case scenario. And technically I am still 6 months pregnant. At the very end of my 6th month. Can you believe this?" I looked at him with a questioning face. 

Rúben's eyes went wide "Wow." 

"Wow indeed. I mean..that's what I get for having children with a freaking giant, I guess." 

"Hey. You looooove this giant. And the babies that you both made." Rúben winked at me, eyes going soft and a smile appearing on his lips "Everything will be okay. Just try not to overwork yourself. And no, I'm not saying don't do nothing and just lay in bed all day. But you are very pregnant and are taking care of a fussy baby-toddler. Please, just take it easy while I'm away. When I come back it will be different." 

"I'm gonna try my best. Now I have to go to make a snack because I'm starving and you have work to do. So talk to you later. You also take it easy, okay." I lovingly smiled at him, damn I can't wait for it to be tomorrow already. 

"Alright, talk to you later. Loves you." 

"Loves you." both of us said at the same time, smiling at each other, leaning in and kissing the front cameras on our phones, sharing a virtual kiss and ending the call.