#i will. look at *that* post when i don’t feel like dying bc of how embarrassed i am

[viemarin]

breaking news: this mentally ill teenager has daddy issues!

[emotoangel]

okay I’m going on a little ineffable phannie rant read at your own gut wrenching discretion bc I can’t lie this shit’s about to get parasocial

because it’s not just Dan and Phil dressed as Crowley and Aziraphale, is it?

it’s Dan and Phil, who have struggled with their sexualities for years. closeted, faced every speculation under the sun when it comes to their own sexualities, the other’s sexuality, their relationship, their legitimacy, if they’re queerbaiting or not, being OUT. OUT and dressed as two canonically gay men in love with each other, two men who would see the world burn to know the other was safe. two men who helped stop the end of the world so they could be together.

a man who is bitter and cold and a little bit bad (but not evil I would say, though he might try to make you believe he is) and a man who is love and light and exclusively good (or so he’d like you to believe). and am I talking about Dan and Phil there, or am I talking about Crowley and Aziraphale?

it’s about these two men who, even 5 years ago, feared the word ‘gay’. it’s about how Dan, Mr Commitmentphobe, Mr I Can’t Even Commit To A Pet, Mr Soulmates Are Not A Thing That Exist, bought a costume, and sprayed (or, fucking hell god help me DYED) his hair red, and posted a cute picture of him and his ranch partner/4000 year old tortoise/companion through life/actual soulmate and TAGGED IT INEFFABLE HUSBANDS.

it’s a couples costume!!! it’s impossible for it not to be, considering they are two of the most well known canonically in love gay men on the internet right now!! it’s a thank you to their little phannies online who make them feel safe and comfortable enough to do what they do every day. and it’s a shoutout to the progress they have made in 15 years. a ‘hey, we’re here, we’re happy and gay and (in love) together’. and that’s SOO SPECIAL. ITS SO SPECIAL. and it means everything!!!!

AND ITS NOT EVEN JUST THE ONE PHOTO.

it’s the selfie on the story of them cute and couply and drinking the aziracrow drinks and looking happy and in love 😭

AND DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON CAT AND BEAR SAVE THE WORLD VS HOWLEY AND AZIRAPHIL ARE HERE TO SAVE THE WORLD

anyway basically I’m so insanely proud of them, feeling very parasocial about the progress they’ve made in 15 years to get to a point where they’re comfortable enough to make phwedding jokes and gay jokes and jokes about both being switches and furries and in love. feeling so proud of them being out and proud and gay and in love and also I have a good omens tattoo so I’m choosing to believe they did this for me personally thank you x

[zegrasdrysdale]

Could you possibly write something with Jack where the reader is having an insecure moment because she read some comments on her recent post and Jack comforts her and reassures that she’s the only girl for him and how beautiful he is, and maybe he makes a little insta post about her

[ don’t know what for ] j. hughes

paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary : after reading some of the comments on her most recent insta post, Jack’s girl gets a little insecure. he reminds her just how beautiful she is

warning(s) : insecure!reader, allusions to a past eating disorder

author’s note : if y’all understand the title then we are automatically best friends (bc 1d 🫶🏼)

༺═──────────────═༻

She frowns as her comments are once again flooded with comments how she looks. It's always a comment about the color of her hair or that it looks like she needs to "eat a burger". As if she didn't stop eating completely when she was a teenager because she was getting comments about how she looked overweight when she was healthy.

Sometimes there's even a dig at the fact that she has blue eyes.

She knows there's a stereotype around hockey players dating or marrying women that have blonde hair and blue eyes, but she can't control the color of either. Sure, it's the type of some players but Jack told her over and over again at the beginning of their relationship that he liked her for her personality.

That doesn't mean that little voice in her head tells her that he's with her because of her hair and eyes. She's aware he has a type, and that type does match the stereotype.

Instead of getting up and going out like she had planned, she doesn't move from her bed. She cancels all plans that she had with her friends and cancels dinner with Jack that night to hide from the public.

The last thing that she needs is more pictures of her to be taken that night and more comments to roll in about the way she looks.

from: hughesy ♡ - 10:03 am wdym you don't feel good ? can i bring you soup ? i can give you back rubs if you don't want soup (ik i'm not a great cook). snacks ? soda ? ice cream ?

to: hughesy ♡ - 10:05 am i'm not hungry. i just wanted to let you know about dinner

from: hughesy ♡ - 10:19 am i'm outside your apartment. open up

Despite saying that she doesn't feel good and doesn't want to see anyone, Jack is on the other side of the door when she opens it in her hoodie with the hood up to hide her hair. He holds up flowers, a plastic bag that's probably full of candy, and a can of soup with a big smile.

"Baby, you look like you've been crying," he states when she opens the door. "Are you sure it's more than you not feeling well?"

She moves to the side so Jack can walk into her apartment. "If I tell you, you'll think it's stupid," she mumbles as she closes the door behind him and follows him further into the apartment.

Jack puts the goodies on the kitchen island and turns to his girlfriend with a frown. "Hey, you can tell me and I promise I won't think it's stupid," he assures her. "What's really going on?"

Her bottom lip wobbles as she says, "I hate being blonde and I hate having blue eyes. I feel like you're only with me because of it. I feel like if I dyed my hair brown and got brown contacts then you'd leave me. I feel too skinny and I feel too fat at the same time. I don't want to go out today and probably get my picture taken every two seconds because I don't feel pretty. I don't want to be seen eating because I'll get told I need to stop again. I don't want to be seen not eating because then I'll be told I need to put on weight. It's confusing and I hate the way I look right now."

A weight comes off her shoulders when she confesses how she really feels to Jack. The tears begin though and sobs wrack her entire body.

His frown just deepens at her confession. Jack crosses the room in three long strides to envelope her in a hug. He cradles her head like he always does when she's upset. She buries her face into his healthy shoulder and wraps her arms around his torso.

"You're so allowed to have days like this," Jack tells her. "But you need to stay out of your comment section, my love. They don't know you like I do and only see you for your hair and eyes. They don't know the you that I fell in love with. I love you no matter what and that will never change. You could dye your hair magenta and I'd still love you and think you were beautiful."

She shakes her head and looks up at him. "You don't mean that," she says.

Jack pushes the hood off her head and runs his fingers through her locks. "I mean that with my entire heart, baby," he assures her. "I think you're beautiful on your most insecure days. I think you light up the room when you walk in when you think you'd dim it. I love you when you doubt it. You're it for me. Blonde hair or not. Blue eyes or not."

"I don't believe you," she whispers.

It hurts her heart to say it but it's true at the moment. She doesn't believe Jack when he says that she's it for him. She's heard those words before and they turned out not to me true.

He runs his thumbs over her cheekbones to dry her tears and replies, "You don't have to. Not right now. Just know that I find you incredibly beautiful for the both of us." He pulls her back into a hug. "I'd love you if you shaved your head tomorrow too and that's a fact."

She bites back a smile and shakes her head. "I'm not going to go bald or something, Jack," she tells him.

"Just saying that I'd love you no matter what," he assures her. She pulls her head back to look up at him. "Hairless or not. I'd even take you to get colored contacts if that's what you really wanted."

"I know," she sighs as she buries her face back into his good shoulder. "It just sucks that no matter what I do, I still have moments like this."

Jack presses kisses to the top of her head and she wraps her arms around his torso. "You're allowed, baby," he tells her. "Just don't shut me out when you have moments like these because I have so many compliments I could give you any time you need me to. We can eat in tonight, have a movie night too. We'll order since we both know that I can't cook."

She laughs and shakes her head. "Stay out of my kitchen, Hughes," she says. "I don't need you burning down my apartment."

He smiles at her. "I'm not planning on it," he laughs. "Your apartment is safe from me. What do you want to do today?"

"Cuddle and watch movies," she replies. "That's it. That's all I want to do today."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Jack says. He cups her jaw and presses a quick, soft kiss to her lips. "My pretty girl."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

jackhughes

liked by yourusername, lhughes_06, and 128,782 others

jackhughes you’re turning heads when you walk through the door 🫶🏼🤍

view all 3,892 comments

lhughes_06 a one direction reference ? didn’t know you were a fan

jackhughes i’ve been converted into a 1d fan

fan1 she’s so pretty

fan2 oh my goshhh jack can you fight ?

yourusername my love 🫶🏼

jackhughes my pretty girl 🤍

yourusername i love youuu

jackhughes love you so much more

_quinnhughes gross

fan3 someone’s jealous

nicohischier okay jack

dawson1417 what a good bf you are

fan4 aw

hater1 ofc he’s dating a blonde

jackhughes her hair color is not the reason she’s my girlfriend. she’d look beautiful bald too

yourusername JACK ????

༺═──────────────═༻

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[icarryitin]

Episode 12: Hell Hath No Fury

spencer reid/gn!reader

THE CANYOUNIVERSE RETURNS FROM WAR🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

series masterlist

word count: 1.5k // warnings: a couple of swears, ya boy gets anthraxed bc we’re getting into canon events now, Foreshadowing™️ (is it foreshadowing if i’ve already posted the part that’s foreshadowed??)

summary: Spencer forgets to use his brain (again), puts his life on the line (again), and it’s down to you to remind him (again).

“I’ve got Reid on the line for you.”

Something about the way Penelope’s voice trips over his name makes your blood run cold. It’s not unusual for her to pass someone over, but it’s different this time - you can feel it in the pit of your stomach.

“Hey, you.”

Spencer barely manages to suppress a cough as he greets you over the line, and that’s how you know you’re right. God, you hate being right.

His exposure is minimal.

We can’t be sure it’s the new strain.

He dosed up with the rest of us.

You know why your team leader decided not to tell you just how bad it is but oh, Hotch is getting an earful when this is over - and he’s not the only one. Because while you’re quietly seething, while the remainder of your lunch is rolling around in your stomach, Spencer Reid is asking if you’ll check in on his mother for him. Just in case anything happens. Yeah, like you’d let it. The universe, God, whatever forces that be? They’ll have to go through you first if they want to get to him.

“I don’t think you get a dying wish if you’re not actively dying.” You sound braver than you feel, phone firmly held to your ear as you slide behind the wheel of your car. Nichol’s address isn’t far from here, Emily and Rossi can handle whatever lies within Chad Brown’s house by themselves. You have bigger fish to fry.

Fish that have a penchant for throwing themselves in front of bullets and unsubs and into anthrax riddled houses.

“But you’ll do it?” He asks, choking back yet another hacking cough that sets your teeth on edge. Of course you will, it’s a ridiculous question. You’ll call and you’ll visit and you’ll write, what’s another letter in the mail after every case anyway?

“Obviously I’ll do it,” Your eye roll is audible, you’re sure of it, “But you’re not dying, Spencer.”

You don’t say goodbye before hanging up, because you don’t need to. Because he’s going to be fine. Of course he is, frankly he’s got no choice in the matter. Even if the number of hazmat trucks at Nichols’ house sends your heart leaping into your throat.

“Respectfully, sir,” You call across the lawn the moment you’re out of the car, squinting in the sun, “You’re full of shit.”

Hotch’s face doesn’t move, but you’ve been at this long enough to register his tell. A split second twitch of his fingers grasped around his phone - he meant well, keeping the severity of the situation from you, most likely because he knew you’d drop everything. And here you are anyway, so much for his genius plan.

Speaking of genius…

You follow the trail of CDC officers, suited and booted from top to tail in PPE around you, through the maze of tents until you spot Derek - arms folded, signature eyebrows furrowed in frustration at whoever stands behind the flimsy plastic shield. As if you didn’t already know.

Spencer Reid looks reminiscent of a kicked puppy on a good day, and getting hosed down in a hazmat tent does him no favours in that department. Soaked to the bone and shivering, the state of him does nothing to quell your frustration at his actions. If anything, it starts to boil over because - well, doesn’t he know? That you’d only feel like half a person without him beside you at the round table or in the bullpen? That the early Sunday morning breakfasts keep you sane? That he’s your best friend in the world and if anything, anything, ever happened to him you wouldn’t know how to exist?

“You,” You’re breathless, suddenly, in the face of it all, “Are fucking in for it.”

He has the decency to shrink back a little from the heat of your anger and the accusatory finger you’re pointing at him, even though there’s a layer of protective plastic between you. Even Derek takes a step away from where you’ve sidled up beside him. And you let rip.

Because, for the smartest guy in every room, how could he be so stupid? Walking into a place that is almost definitely poisoned with no protective equipment is basically step one of the ‘How To Die Immediately, For Dummies’ handbook. Staying in that place is even more ridiculous.

Spencer’s relief in seeing you outweighs the anxiety tensing his muscles, even if you are bussing with the fury of a poked wasp’s nest, even if it is his fault. The very real possibility that he might have finally signed his own death warrant is softened by the sight of you, warped as it might be through the tent’s window. He finds the water warmer, the brushes softer, the incessant scrubbing gentler, just by watching you. Even your yelling is reassuring, because it means he’s not dead yet. He gets to watch you a little longer. He’s not so far gone that he misses the sunlight catching in your eyes as you rant and rave at him. It isn’t the first time you’ve struck him as beautiful, and it won’t be the last, but it doesn’t paralyse him anymore. He’s long since come to terms with that fact, Although, the thought might be a little misguided given your anger at his poor decision making.

But it’s not anger, it’s fear.

The same kind of fear that grips his heart in cold hands every time you end up on the wrong side of a gun, it’s not unfamiliar. Although Spencer’s never been on the receiving end of it from you. The fear of a loss that might be just too great to overcome, amongst all the others. You’ve mentioned, in passing, the friends that have moved on or married or simply faded away in the years you’ve been with the Bureau - it’s not uncommon, the job becomes a person’s whole life and anyone who claims otherwise is a liar. He knows it as well as anyone. You have each other, you have the team, they’re your family as much as they are his and - a nudge at his shoulder breaks his reverie.

“Can we talk about this later? I need, uh,” He struggles, there’s no way to put it delicately, “They need to scrub me down properly.”

“Well I’m not finished, so start stripping, Doctor.”

It’s his race against time versus your stone cold fury - unstoppable force, meet immovable object. Because you’re not budging, just standing there expectantly with your arms folded over your chest. Morgan breaks the stalemate after a long minute of eye contact, hands on your shoulders, steering you away with a meet you at the hospital thrown over his shoulder at Spencer. Ever the mediator.

“That was a bit dramatic, I know.”

“A bit?” Derek exclaims, and you spare yourself the embarrassment of looking him in the eye.

You’re not sure how you manage to blag your way out of the final takedown, but you do. An argument made for having a presence at the hospital, making sure the victims have received the suspected antidote, that it’s working; you decide to leave out the fact that the only thing your brain is capable of right now is wondering if Spencer is choking to death yet.

Hotch finds you after it all, sitting on a bench in the hall outside Spencer’s room. Feet tapping nervously on the floor, you’d slipped out as the doctor came in to check his numbers - you made it in the front door, you’re pretty sure you’ll be forgiven for missing out on all the needle sticking. You’re trying to collect your thoughts enough to articulate a sentence, something calm and composed instead of the anger that almost boiled over earlier. And he waits, because he knows. There’s a lot of people in this world who have a lot to say about Aaron Hotchner, but not a single one of them can claim he doesn’t know his team inside out.

“I know why you downplayed things, but this team is my family. I don’t have anybody else,” you look him dead in the eye, unwavering, even though your words tremble ever so slightly, “And I will not be lied to about it.”

There’s a beat of silence; long enough for both of you to acknowledge that he can’t promise you anything, and then he relents.

“Understood.”

You leave him sitting on the bench, digesting your words in the hustle of the hallway, in favour of the uncomfortable armchair at Spencer’s bedside. Derek joins you after a little while, and you greet him with a soft smile as he settles into the chair on Spencer’s other side. One he returns, as he always does, and you settle back into the silence. It’s a waiting game now.

“There’s an ass kicking coming your way, I hope you know that.”

Spencer has barely opened his eyes when he hears your voice, floating somewhere to his left, over the steady beeping of machines and muffled chatter. The hospital, he’s at the hospital. He’s at the hospital, and you’re here, and Morgan’s here, because //of course// you are. Where else would either of you be?

“Can it wait until I’m out of here?” His voice is hoarse at first, but it’s enough to get a giggle out of both his visitors.

“Well yeah,” You couldn’t keep the fond smile off of your face if you tried, relieved that his sense of humour has made it through intact, “I want a fair fight.

if you’ve stuck around for my 3 months of radio silence, i am kissing you on the mouth🧡🧡🧡

[sscieloz]

A little help

Aeri Uchinaga x aespa5thmember! reader

Synopsis: You’ve been stressed from your group’s tour: so many shows and planes have been tiring you off. Thankfully you have an special bandmate to help you with that.

Giselle helps you use Ning’s vibrator.

Warnings: smut, dirty talk ?, gets kinda rough ?, mentions of blood — reader is a virgin, nsfw. dom!giselle x sub!reader.

Word count: 3.2k

Notes: I MIGHT (like 85% might) rewrite this bc I fucking hated it. It’s too repetitive, I think. But I wanted to post it anyway so enjoy I guess xx. Not checking for any errors tho ˆˆ muah. I’ll try to improve for next time!! write something new, perhaps. We’ll see.

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3

-

“Ning let me have it.” You display the sparkly green vibrator in front of Giselle, showing off the horrible thing to her as if it were your most prized possession. “She said she doesn’t need it anymore now that she has her girlfriend’s long ass fingers.”

Giselle dropped her phone, finally giving you the attention you wanted.

“She did not say that.” She snatched the toy out of your hands, and you let yourself fall in her bed, scoffing.

“Ok, she didn’t say that, exactly, but she did let me keep it.” You looked at her with sparkly eyes, giggling with excitement. “Will you help me try it? The shows are killing me, and I’ve been dying to use it the whole week.”

Giselle stopped staring at the thing with disgust, looking at you instead. “Why didn’t you?” She asked, curiously.

“Why didn’t I what?” You frowned at her question, too busy with your phone: Karina was asking if you wanted to go swimming later. The Uchinaga grabbed your phone, throwing it away to the other side of her big bed. “Hey!” You protested, shooting her a hard glance.

“Why didn’t you use it, then, if you were dying to all week?” She repeated herself, already feeling her core heatening up. Specially when you refused to look at her in the eyes, shrugging weakly.

“Because you know best.” You answered shyly, remembering her words from the dorm, on the other day. “Right?”

Giselle’s eyes darkened, and she stood her hand for you to take, guiding you to the middle of the bed. She smirked, perhaps a bit too wickedly, caressing your long hair until her fingers ran out of length.

“Right, of course.”

-

You caught yourself looking at her eagerly, hands on your sides to see what she’d do, following her lead towards the center of the bed.

Sure, you could be in your room, pleasuring yourself, but you’ve tried to — too many times, and none of them felt as good as the pleasure you’ve had with Giselle’s fingers. Also, you two were friends, right? And it was just sex, as she’d said it before. Nothing changed between you after that day at the dorm, so surely nothing would change now. You just needed a little help.

She was still only staring at you, which made you look away, feeling your face start to get red.

“Aren’t you going to do anything?” You mumbled, impatient and embarrassed to have her focus solemn on you.

“You need to undress first, Yn.” She said, giggling. You pouted, knowing you were still too shy to do it, but she cut you off before you could whine. “Don’t you want me to help? I can’t do it if you’re still so full of layers.” Giselle gestured to your clothes. Seeing how you still made no move to take them off, she got closer, tapping the hems of your top. “Come on, Yn. We’ve been past this. You have a beautiful body, ok? Stunning, even. And I want to see you.”

Her words helped you gain a little more confidence, and you really wanted to get yourself off, so you quickly removed your top and your shorts, panties following with much more ease than last time. Your bandmate’s hands went straight to your breasts, pinching your nipples slightly as she checked for your reaction, grinning when she was met with the sound of your moans.

“N-no teasing.” You told her as Giselle’s mouth went straight to one of your breasts, her other hand massaging the neglected one with a squeeze.

“But your tits are so pretty, Yn.” She praised, mouth leaving your chest with a trail of saliva in her mouth. She cleaned it off, reveling herself with how hungry you looked at her eyes.

Giselle had waited, eagerly, for you to come back to her, not wanting to make things awkward or to have you uncomfortable in the slightest. You were friends and bandmates, most importantly, and she wouldn’t trade that for any sex in the world.

So when you showed up with that horrid green thing in your hands, Giselle already knew she’d have a handful, having to remind herself to take things slow; you were still too naive, and she’d teach you just right, without rushing anything.

But fuck her if you staring at her with your big, doe eyes full of lust didn’t nearly make her lose it all and straight up fuck you until you were crying and begging for her to stop.

You pushed yourself further to face her front, so close you could feel her breathing, too. It was fast, erratic, and it made you smile to know you riled her up as much as she did to you. Your fingers caressed her arms, pleading with your sweetest voice. “I want to see you too, Unnie. Pretty please? You didn’t let me last time.” You reminded her, making Giselle laugh and distance herself to take her clothes off, this time.

“Your reward for asking so sweetly, then.” She said, winking at you as you took her in. She was beautiful, almost alluringly so, and it made you salivate at the thought of making her shudder, too. However, you knew she wouldn’t allow that to happen now, so you let yourself be pulled back to the big pillows of the bed as Giselle reached for the green toy, pressing it on the lowest mode.

You can’t seem to take your eyes off her as she spat onto her hand, bringing it to your pussy as her saliva is spread in your slit, humming in delight as it mixes it with your growing wetness. It makes you moan loudly, reaching for her to get a glimpse of her touch, her skin—anything. She was still focused, though, toying with you as she grins.

“So soaked already, baby? But we’ve barely started playing.” You mumbled something entirely incoherent, closing your eyes as you felt her fingers teasing in, two of them circling you up and down. She rubbed a few circles on your clit before entering sloppily, the sounds of it echoing through the room with your moans.

You felt a light tug on your hair, but Giselle’s mouth was soon all over your collarbone. Before you could even complain, she was sucking and marking your skin, your moans escalating with each passing moment. As much as you love to have her mouth on you— and God, you love it so much, you need more, and it doesn’t take much to make you into a pleading mess. You mutter pleases and mores until the words from your mouth make no sense to your brain anymore: all you can think is how hot your skin feels, and how slow Giselle’s fingers are working on you.

“Do you need something else, pup?” The older girl asks, looking at you greedily as you whine.

Of course, Giselle knows exactly what you want, what you need. You reached out to her asking for it, after all. Yet, she will still make you beg.

Her nose brushes your ear as she takes her fingers out of you completely now, making her busy with spreading your wetness all over your abdomen. “You look… restless. If you want something, you just have to say it, you know? I promise I’ll give it to you.”

She’s mean, and you so desperately want to smack that sneaky grin out of her face. However, her humid fingers are pinching your nipples, and the curses slip from your thoughts. Your mind is clouded by the urge of surrendering to her, so she’ll give what you so desperately want as fast as possible.

“I w-want.” You try to say, but she’s sucking on your sensitive breasts once again, already so sensitive from her teasing before and— “Oh, fuck! Please…”

“I do need more than just pleases, though.” Her strong hands squeezed your boobs, making you let out a low growl. It was painful, but how come it felt so good? You couldn’t master the feeling. “Say it, and it’s yours. What do you want, Yn?” She indulged, loving to see your reactions.

You were too spoiled for your own good. Being the maknae had its privileges, you’d say. The girls— all of them, often showered you with praises and presents, taking extra care to do whatever you asked them to. Wether it was to fetch some water later at night because you hated to get through the dark hallway of the dorm to go to the kitchen; or changing a step in the new choreography because you felt too silly doing it, and it made you uncomfortable; they’d spoil you rotten: you’d never have to say the same thing twice. Just think about it, and it was done for you.

Naturally, Giselle making you beg made you restless. It made you hate yourself, too, with how wet you got from her making you do it— humiliate yourself for her. How much you loved to be completely at her mercy.

“I want the, f-fuck. You to fuck me with the vibrator. Now.” She lifted an eyebrow at your impatient tone, but you held her gaze with defiance.

“Forgetting our manners, are we?” Giselle asked, gripping your chin as she muttered against your breath. “Do I have to let you do it yourself, then? If you’re so sure of it?”

“No!” You pleaded, all the confidence gone from your tone as you held her, to keep her from going away. “Please, please fuck me, unnie. You know it feels better when you do it.” The older girl laughs as you try to use all your strength to pull her in. “I can take it, I swear. I’ve been p-practicing.”

Giselle’s eyes went dark again, and she cocked her head at you.

“What do you mean by practicing?” She was no longer touching you now. It was almost painful to not have her on you, and you already missed the sensation of your skin on fire, all red, bruised and filled with her saliva. “Have you been touching yourself without me, Yn?” Her tone was harsh, and it made you recoil a bit at her coldness, stuttering as you whispered.

“Maybe?” Her touch was back, thankfully, though slightly different from before. It was decisive, intense—almost rasp, the way her hands squeezed your hips, your thighs, your arms, no longer caring about not leaving marks or scratches on your tanned skin. You were sure there was a big pool of wetness on the sheets, and she hadn’t even used the damn toy on you yet.

God, she was so hot like this, handling you the way she wanted to.

“We will have none of that, baby.” She announced, suckling— no, biting on your neck harshly before retreating to grab the vibrator. “I’m just going to have to teach you the hard way, then.”

It certainly shouldn’t arouse you that much.

-

You watched eagerly as Giselle positioned the vibrator against your cunt, biting her lip at the sight of you: hair clinging onto your back, skin marked in bruises, with your beautiful chest moving up and down fast from excitement.

“I still don’t think you can take it, though.” She told you as she entered the tip of the toy on your slit. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make you wince at the discomfort.

You did want this, though. You wanted more.

“I want this. Please.” You reminded her, trying to push yourself, so it’d reach deeper. Giselle immediately gripped your hips, stopping you from moving. “I can take it, I promise.”

She compelled to your wishes, positioning herself a bit higher so she could start thrusting on you. It did hurt, and you winced. She went slow at first, kissing your neck as her muttered praises against your skin, nibbling her teeth through the skin.

“Don’t tense, baby. Just take deep breaths for me, okay?” She asked as you nodded, slowly soaking in with each thrust. She kept the toy a little deeper with each passing time, and soon your groans were replaced with moans of pleasure. It still burned, but the combo of her soothing your skin and the repeated movements made you cry for more.

“More, please.” You said, bucking your hips, so she’d speed her rhythm. When Giselle didn’t, you grabbed her wrist, forcing the vibrator against your cunt, hoping it’d reach deeper. Your erratic movements, however, made her nails immediately dig into your thighs.

Shortly, she switched back, her other hand brushing your neck teasingly as she opened a dangerous smirk.

“Do you want to do this on your own? Since you’re so eager to take the lead yourself.” Your bandmate asked, her cocky tone matching the way she looked down on you. It wasn’t a sight you were used to, being taller than her and constantly towering over the older girl, but it aroused you just the same.

You simply denied, being slapped on your thighs in response. “Words, Yn.”

“N-no.”

“No, what?”

“I want you to d-do it for me.” you placed wet kisses on her neck, a whiny mess. “Please, Unnie. Please make me cum.”

And just like that, the green piece was positioned on your slit again, making you shudder.

Giselle thrusted the toy all the way in, making you scream as you gasped for air. Her eyes were trained on your pussy, adjusting herself, so she’d give your clit attention, too. It was too fast for you, with the pleasure building up in quick waves down your abdomen.

“Wait! It’s too mu-“ You tried to say, but Giselle locked her lips on yours with hunger. She licked your lips sloppily, not once motioning to listen to your pleadings.

“Wait for what?” she mocked your tone, wasting no time pushing the dildo all the way in. “You said you could take it, right? That you were ready?” her pupils were blown, and she had a wicked grin on her face—if you weren’t so focused on getting your breath and adjusting to the pain of being stretched, you’d notice how much she was enjoying herself. God, she loved to have this power over you. Of how you were so quick to beg, completely on her mercy, ready to do whenever she wanted you to. “So take it.”

Giselle kept marking you, alternating between kissing your lips and leaving hickeys on your neck— like you weren’t on tour and wearing such revealing outfits lately. “You should see yourself like this, Yn.” She murmured as her fingers circled your clit roughly, applying trained pressure and making you feel sure you’d go crazy at any given moment. You rolled your eyes, drunk with all the different sensations. “So pretty, doing so good.” The praise grounded you, making you hum as you clung onto her, lifting your back from the cushions, so you’d be even closer.

You felt the pleasure completely overcome you, making you scratch Giselle’s back without thinking about being gentle, either.

“I’m going to c-cum.” You announced, hoping she wouldn’t try to make you wait. You wouldn’t be able to, since your orgasm quickly overcame you, along with the strange sensation of having to pee straight away. It didn’t help that your bandmate hadn’t stopped thrusting, either. If only, she’d resumed her movements to slow thrusts, making sure to twist and play with the green toy however she saw fit.

“Beautiful.” It was the only thing she said, and it was making you crazy that she wouldn’t stop. With her eyes trained on your body, she saw the way your abdomen was still fast in its movements, trying to match your heavy breathing.

You mumbled, scooping her as you felt Giselle take the toy away from your pussy to place herself next to you. She knew how needy you got after you came, so the girl quickly gathered you in her arms as she kissed your hair, murmuring praises and sweet things to you.

“M’ tired.” You told her, even though you knew you had to get yourself cleaned up.

“I know, baby. I’ll help you, though. You won’t have to do much.” She grabbed a great piece of your hair— which was drenched in sweat, moving it away from your sweaty body.

Her words made you giggle. You specially liked when she took care of you, even more in moments like these, although it still made you reluctant to accept her help. “I can do it by myself, Unnie. It’s ok.” You assured her, staring at her adorable pout.

It amused you how quickly she would switch on those situations.

“Of course you can.” Giselle blushed, suddenly shy. Her tone was hesitant as she continued, her fingers lightly tracing your collarbone, still all red and coated with her dry saliva. “It doesn’t mean you should, though. You’re tired, and probably very sore. Let me, please? I can even give you that massage you’ve been whining so much to get.” She offered, and you took a moment to think about it.

It wasn’t the wisest decision, to be this close after such an intimate moment, specially when the two of you had a silent agreement to make it just about sex. About pleasure.

But you were tired, sore, and needy, so you allowed yourself to be held by Giselle as she took you to the bathtub, washing you up and changing the messy, bloodied sheets before you nested yourself on her million cushions.

“Just this once.” You told her, crawling towards the middle of her bed with wet hair and one of her silk pajamas — the ones you loved and Giselle always hid, so you wouldn’t steal from her.

The message was clear: no attachments, just friendship and sex. It was as simple as daylight.

As if any of you could have a clear idea over whatever your silent agreement was.

Giselle nodded, cuddling you as she turned the tv on, scrolling over Netflix for the drama she had been watching lately.

“Sure.” She said, although her tone bore a bit of mockery as she watched you besides her, eyes closed and a peaceful look on your face, as if you hadn’t gotten railed like crazy earlier. “Just this once.” She repeated herself, in a low tone.

You slept soundly for the first time in days.

-

“I messaged Karina, by the way.” You heard her say, moments before you drifted off. “Told her you weren’t feeling so good, so you’d skip the pool.”

You scoffed, mumbling with closed eyes.

“I wanted to go swimming, though.” You felt Giselle poke your ribs, and you tried your best not to laugh, pretending you were mad at her. “Kill joy.”

“I should just let her knock on your door, then, since you always close it properly.” She teased, making you flutter your eyes open, embarrassed.

“You wouldn’t!”

She laughed soundly, loving to mock you. “Oh, Y/n. I would.”

[sunofpandora]

Heyyy so I saw your requests post and I’ve been dying to get this one off my chest, so how about a neteyam x omaticaya! warrior! reader where reader’s a fierce warrior (maybe a protege of one of the higher ups). And we all know Neteyam (the mighty warrior lol) is strong and also one of the best their age, but what if Neteyam had such intense feelings for her that all he wants to do is impress her but whenever she comes around he gets all klutzy and flustered? And of course she finds it funny and cute and all that jazz. Just fluff I NEED FLUFF

P.s. The decision to fulfill this request is yours and I won’t be upset if you decide you don’t want to. As long as you’re comfortable, all’s fine by me.

But yeaaa have a good day/night :)

Authors note:

Hi babes!

So I loved this request so much! So I decided to make my very first actual long series! ‘Virago’ is going to be an original work and one of my first long projects. Unfortunately, I will not have a TON of time to do smaller requests in between chapters but i will def try! I’m very excited for this and i wouldn't have even considered this without the request so thank you so, so much.   

                                     

                                                  V I R A G O                   

Part 1.

The Day the Sky Turned Red.

8.7k words.

𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼/𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼/𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼/

‘Y/n was made of fire. Oh, a goddess girl with lips of lightning and a caged Phoenx under her skin. Neteyam is just the ashes and remains of the heavens she crushed under her heel.’

When grief plagues the young warrior, Neteyam gives her a gift. But it is enough to console the flames in her heart?

Neteyam and reader having a sun x moon relationship (hello 'diaphanous’ readers <3)

Warnings: Descriptions of death/ parental death/ reader is a war orphan/ as always, spider, the reader, and Lo’ak are a trio/ Lo’ak and Reader being platonic soulmates?/ Spider and Reader being trauma twins/ Neteyam being lovesic/ Neteyam being nervous and shy around reader/ Neytiri being mother/ Jake being the husband i wish i had/ Tuk being a little sister and looking up to y/n/ Mentions of grace’s school.

Mentions of insecurity, blood, war, guns, reader being mommy/

I think that’s it?

Oh right, Reader fell first but neteyam fell WAY harder.

Extra info:

Y/n is one year younger than neteyam, the first part of this chapter is a flashback to when y/n was 15. Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk are the agesthey are in atwow for the first part of the story. They age up in part 2 (in story)

(Ka’lik is the name of Y/ns father, her mother’s name is Zensira. Both were warriors, but Zensira was the best songstress in the clan. (Ninat go cry to the plant in the corner)) 

Super important note for the request sender:

Hey gorgeous so ik you asked for fluff and don't worry babes. I hear ya loud and clear. Unfortunately the first part of this chapter will be a bit angsty bc the creative juice were flowing and i got carried away but I swear on my grave the rest is nothing but fluff and lovey dovey shenanigans,

Not proofread

��𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

To some, surrender was a comfort. A sanctuary of softly spoken submission.

To Y/n? It was a ‘bitch move’

3 years ago.

Day the sky people returned.

Y/n is 15-16

The Na’vi say, every person is born twice.

That we can redeem ourselves in the eyes of the great mother. 

That being truly evil doesn't mean just craving the pain of others. 

That the life of a single diseased root does not kill the whole tree.

That darkness is deadly, because like the brothers and sisters of bountiful green that dwell in the great mother’s garden, we too need sunlight to grow.

Your mother always told you monsters aren't born from a seed.

They grow when they are deprived of light.

But sometimes, we find solace in even the darkest of places. 

That sometimes there's comfort in the dense night. Where others see hell, you build a home.

Sometimes we thrive in darkness because we feel we do not deserve the glory of sunlight. 

Is it wrong? Is it terrible of you?

To see light where the great mother’s grace and the violence of the sky demons collide?

Things that were not meant to tear the ground of our great mother’s delicate skin.

Their metals and turning wheels, their combat boots and weapons that scream and spit fire.

But did it belong in your hands?

Your father would say, 

“Each person is a thread, weaved within a tapestry that tells a story.”

The thing about stories is that sometimes, they may not always end well, or worse, they end too early. Some people stretch the thread as far as they can, too unsettled to be spread too thin, too soon.

Change is fundamental. Mo’at reminded you “there is no death, only change”

A moral structure that refuses to be severed. You believe that's whats what distincts na’vi from the sky people. Humans are quite flawed creatures. Humans love to dream and dance about stars and rain because their planet refuses to cry for them any longer. Humans dwell with memories that are haunted with light that only exists in the past, lingering behind desire to relive. Humans are afraid of grief, or loss. Of the empty void that lingers behind the shadows. Humans love to selfishly cling to the fantasy they don't live in.

You will never understand why they put themselves through such violent tendencies. To torture themselves. To provide reach towards an unseen daydream just to rip it out of their hands.

Humans remain. Na’vi evolve.

Na’vi find solace within the endless sky. Burning with color, blazing infinite. Na’vi dance on the precipice of the clouds. 

Grief came over like the waves grazing the tide, promising reassurance and return.

Violence was never a necessity. A lingering intrusion of a spark that refused to become a flame. 

But what lies beyond the sky? Was there truly a shadow behind the sun?

When the embers refused to settle.

You found yourself infatuated with open spaces. Abundance found within indecipherable notions.

Cracks in the mountains. Small tears in the tapestry where light leaked through the canopy of the trees.

Nothingness was never a threat.

Not when the promise of warmth remained.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/n met grief when she was only a child.

When she was 15, the RDA returned.

The day the sky turned red was the day the air smelled of sulfur and blood. 

Gray and red were never a pretty combination.

The demon ship’s wings stirred the trees and a storm of dust arise, 

Screaming, everyone running, the distant screeches of ikran and war cries.

The night your parents went out to gather some herbs, and never returned. 

When the pale light of the moon became a blazing, scorching, blanket of blankness that simmered into a forest engulfed in white flames. 

You found your mothers songcord on the ground the next morning.

Her body stained with red.

You stood next to Neteyam at your parent’s funeral.

You watched as Mo’ats hands guided the delicate floating Atokirina to rest upon your mothers chest as she murmured a prayer. 

People have this inherent conception that the hardest part of grief is change.

The loss of warmth in the safest of places, when the shadows loom rather than live. 

In reality, it's this unnamed feeling of a void.

Love is the amplification of a connection. Love distracts. It paralyzes you within its sanctuary of promises.

Grief feels like a shield with a hole blown through the middle. When the connection is shattered, and the sky is no longer protected without the scattered solace of the stars to veil the blank spaces.

Emptiness no longer infatuated you.

The sky without the stars is not a mystery anymore.

Neteyam held your hand. It didn't aid the hollowness within the cup of your palm. Guilt revenues in a realization, that even the great mother’s solace could not soothe this wound. This ache. This pain.

Neytiri’s soft sobs scorch the air with a soreness, the morning mist. Her fingertips, victims of bow strings and arrowhead edges gently brush the flowers placed around your mothers body. 

Neytiri was your mother’s sister. Not biologically. Preservations in our blood don’t always remain unsevered when a bond is born.

Your mother sobbed with her when hometree collapsed. Helped unbraid her hair for her night with Jake. Your mother had saved Neytiri’s life.

All those years ago when the RDA invaded Grace's school. When her body trembled at the sight of sylwanins blood that painted the floor and the walls, your mother walling as she desperately tried to drag Neytiri away.

To have such a bond. The heartbeat of one another emplaced in your bones, to sing a goodbye song with cruel unmeasured melodies. 

Jake held neytiri, gently rubbing circles onto her back, his own grievances had been paid due to earlier. 

Kiri’s tear stained cheeks didnt go unnoticed. She stood close to her father, Tuk’s tiny body squished between them as Kiri sobbed into Jake's shoulder . Kiri had always admired your mother. Chasing her shadow like wisp catching the breeze ever since she was a child. A woman of eywa. A healer. A hunter. Her heartbeat reserved for her home. Her people. Her daughter.

Lo’ak had placed his own tribute to the small spread laid out before the gently laid corpses.

A small carved arrowhead. 

Your father took over your mother’s job when she had other jobs to attend to, as being the one who trained a young group of warriors. Lo’ak included. He was patient with Lo’ak. Never discouraged him. A father liek mentorship had bloomed. So when his time came to join the great mother, Lo’ak contributed his own item of remembrance.

Lo’ak gave his arrowhead.

Tuk gave a small flower.

Kiri gave a small bundle of herbs the omaticaya believed was to aid the departing spirit on their journey.

Neytiri added a few carved beads from an anklet she wore. One your mother, Neytiri and Sylwanin had shared over the years, each of the three contributing beads or small trinkets to the piece.

Jake gave some beads as well. From a necklace your mother helped him make Neytiri when he struggled with the stringing of the oddly-shaped beads back when Jake was training for iknimiya, attempting to woo the young blue-skinned warrior he knew as neytiri.

All the omaticaya came to bear their gifts. Neteyam included, who gave you the gift of his warmth.

He cradled your hand in his, he raised it to his chest when the roots covered your parents bodies. 

You’ve loved Neteyam for many years now. Watching him grow from a boy to a man. 

You grew up next to the sullys. Your heights measured next to theirs as a child. Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri, even little tuk had built a circle around you. You were a part of their lives. They were  piece of yours. 

You found him in an irregular-shaped void in your heart that only he could fit in. Nights were filled of him. His voice. His eyes. His hands. The curve of his nose and the coves of his lips. 

His voice was made of tender summers. His eyes were liquid gold.

You saw him. You truly, truly saw him. Not the evascent shell of the perfect warrior or son made of stone. 

You saw him in the bleak day and in the night. When reality rivaled your thoughts of him, when the warmth of his touch seemed ephemeral, the invisible interstellar you swore was not a figment of your fantasies. You settled yourself from afar. Sullied yourself with stains of shame from the secrets you kept from him. The thousands of words you harbored, right next to the stars you swore you would steal for him.

This unrepeatable pattern became tiring, something you yearned to touch but your hands couldnt reach.

To tug on the silver string that dangled from this disguise he wore. This mask. This ruse of your heart.

He was to find the perfect mate. The perfect woman, A women to be the closest to an eywa incarnate. That wasn’t you. That could never be you.

Perfect with no edges. No uncalled for curves and no outward coves.

So you settled once again with the itching of your palms and the aching of your heart.

He was not yours.

Distance became a familiarity because distance was safe. 

There was a time where the itching in your palmsd for his. Now, his had felt hollow as it held yours now.

Grief was a funny thing.

You stood here, your skin feels more like a shell. Your mirror feels more like a window.

Staring at yourself with pity.

Such a weak thing she is.

Sobbing.

What once was warmth and abundant is now hollow and overcast by anguish.

You start to resonate with the corpses that once rested in your line of sight before the roots of the tree engulfed them.

Why is it that the sunlight denies you shelter?

Why must your whole become hollow? The ashes of what it once was line a new path. 

Is the sun falling? Have the stars collapsed? Will anyone catch them for you?

What is this? This pain? This agony? Why must it overcast your morals? Your rationality of peace? This homage harbors the resdiual of what little warmth is salvaged from this sunset of black. 

You feel the merciless fire in your veins. You want revenge. The cage of a Phoenix becomes an eternity of warmth. 

Even with neteyam at your side, the stars are falling. And the sunlight feels cold.

⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆

Later that evening, the clan settled after Jake announced that his clan had to relocate to the Hallelujah mountains, where everyone would rebuild a stronghold and dwell with the loyal humans. To avoid any more bloodshed, Where the humans couldn't find you.

 You sat in the Sully’s Marui, Neytiri behind you as you sat infront of the fire.

She rebraided your hair. You had mo’at and kiri unbraided for the funeral. Neytiri’s soft humming soothes you a bit, but your hands haven’t ceased their small tremors of shaking.

She gently runs her hands through your locks, placing a few beads on each braid.

Th hut is silent, Neteyam sits in the corner, he hasn’t spoken since after the funeral.

Tuk perches on Jakes lap asleep, Kiri at your side, rubbing your back. Lo’ak sat on the other side of you, resting his head on your shoulder.

“My sweet”

Neytiri’s melodic whisper whisked through the heavy gray.

“We leave in a few days time, at first light for our new home,”

She paused, her thought lingering behind a wall of hesitation, she exchanges a look with Jake, who nods at her, gently taking tuk off his lap for a moment,

“Y/n, hon, with what's occurred..-”

He waved one hand around, flicking his wrist against the air to try and demonstrate some kind of invisible concept.

But you know he was referring to your parents deaths.

“We don’t think you should be alone.” Jake adds. Neteyam nods with his dad’s words, attempting to gain some kind of partaking in this conversation without speaking.

Neytiri rests her hand on your shoulder, making Lo’ak lift his head to peer at you. 

“What are you saying?”

It comes out as a breath, the unveiled remnants of the traumatic experience you had endured still fresh on your still-processing mind.

“Ma yawntu…We want you to stay with us when we settle in our new home. To stay in our home. We can take care of you.”

The warmth of the fire feels pale for a moment. I’ts vulnerability. Its shallow. Yet, Its deep, and dark, and you can’t see the bottom. Your’e left unguarded for a moment. 

“I’ll be fine on my own-“

You pause when you realize how hoarse your voice sounds. you clear your throat, your gaze meeting Jake’s. His eyes soften a you an you can tell its pity. Something you would have considered affection becomes an insult. A weakness.

“I’ll be okay. I’m not helpless. I can provide for myself.”

Jake sighs and shakes his head, his words calm.

“Y/n. I know you are strong. Hell, you’re one of the strongest i know, kid. But This is not something we’re going to let you carry alone, I made-”

He pauses, taking a breath, his head tilting down a bit and his eyes squeezing shut before he raises his head to continue.

“I made a promise. To the people. To the clan. To keep everyone safe. And to your parents, we would look out for you if anything ever happened.”

The lump in your throat is dry as you swallow.

Neytiri kisses your head gently.

“Ma yawntu, we will look after you..we will guide you on this path.”

She gently guides you to look at her bow in the corner.

“My father. He gave me that bow as he laid dying.”

The air becomes thick, even the moonlight seems to freeze with its slow creeping up the wall. 

The only sound is the soft 3-beat melody of Tu’ks soft breathing as she sleeps, but her heavy eyes flutter open now and then as she nuzzles into jakes side.

Neytiri squeezes her hand on your shoulder to keep her voice from breaking, her chest tightening.

“He told me to protect the people.”

The pain in her voice breaks through the cracks in the walls that kept the shadows out, cages that kept the anger in.

“I owed your mother my life. I could not protect Zensira. 

I have let the demons take another from me.”

The red in her voice stained the shadows behind ehr words, the sharp syllables in ‘demons’ evident, Kiri closed her eyes and winced at her mothers words, still holding your hand.

She took a breath and gazed at you.

“But yawntu, i will not let them take you. I will protect you. You have always been one of my own at heart. The skyships will not take that from us.

The familiar sting you felt only a few hours ago returned to your eyes along with the ache in your chest.

Jake nodded.

“We can be stronger together, Y/n. Let us look after you.”

The wisp of shallow aches still burn behind your heart but you nod, silently.

Lo’ak smiles in an attempt to lighten the load.

“Just like old times, sis. We used to have sleepovers all the time, now we get to have them every day.”

Neytiri was about to scold Lo’ak for his bluntness until she heard you chuckle,

Tuk’s big eyes blinked open as her tired voice mumbled.

“Now you can play with me more..and braid my hair..”

She mumbes as she smiles to herself. Jake chuckles and ruffles her short braids.

Kiri squeezes your hand and Neteyam’s gaze hasn’t left you since the beginning of the conversation.

You took a walk that night, creeping around the hammocks of the sleeping sully family as you quietly ventured outside the small camp village.

You stand under a tree, the moonlight leaks through the canopy as you start to count the stars. You wondered how the sky and the heavens could still be standing when your whole world had collapsed around you just earlier that day.

When you were small your mother would tell you not to pull on the loose thread of her tapestries she wove. Because the more you pull, the faster it will fall apart.

Thats how you felt. One loose string being mercilessly tugged and then all the colors were fading away, you chased them, you chased them along with the falling stars but no one caught them for you.

Your heart has been thieved. Your light has been stolen.

Sin and soul seem to have a war under your skin, and the soft lllabies of the creatures of your planet seem to have more of a shriek-like quality.

Why did the colors go away? 

Did they chase you to the place i cannot follow when you went away?

“Y/n.”

You jump slightly, the chill in the pale air becoming a prick of awarness as you reach for the knife on your hip, turning around quikcly.

Neteyam stands before you, his wooded-honeyed scent fills your nose, you blink as a breath of his name leaves your lips.

“Neteyam-

Oh Neteyam you scared me, you asshole.”

Usually he would have laughed. But not today, not with the shadow that looms.

He gently touches your arm.

“I’m sorry, truly-

What are you doing awake? Are you hurt? Are you in pain? Did something-

Did someone-”

You laugh at him. But its bitter and its thin. Its forced.

“For eywas sake why does everyone think i am the weak link suddenly-

I am fine. Stop looking at me like i am wounded-”

Neteyam cuts you off.

“Y/n, i would never think such a thing about you, ever. You know this. I want you safe, you can’t expect me not to be concerned when you wonder off in the middle of the night, syulang”

The nickname from whe you were children is a warm familiarity at the least.

You huff and lean against the tree bark.

“I just needed air.”

Its small and muttered.

A shaky breath left your lips.

“I’m trying to find ways to endure my own thoughts.”

Neteyams eyes soften as he steps forward, he gently takes a place y beside you, back against the tree as he stands next to you. Your hand brushes his, but your fingers refuse to interlace.

The two of you stared up at the stars for a moment.

“Teyam?

“Yes?”

“Do you think it’s ungrateful to feel as if you have nothing, even when others orrond you with love and promises?”  

“I’m not sure I follow…”

“Is it wrong to feel alone when your in the arms of others?”

As it falls into place for neteyam, he gazes at you as if you were a mystery in the moonlight.

He tries to see past your walls, to place himself in your shadow.

 He glances at you, then back up at the sky.

“No. It’s not ungrateful. I think we’re all born with some sort of circle around us.”

You pause for a moment, looking over at him.

“A circle?”

He nods.

“A circle. The people we love and care for? the people we would do anything for? The people who make our home, they all belong inside our circle.

My father, my mother, Lo’ak, Tuk, Kiri, they're all a part of my circle.”

He pauses for a moment, his tail swishing behind him.

“And…you are too. You’re apart of my circle, Y/n.”

You gaze at him and he withers under your eyes, averting his eyes and fidgeting with his necklace.

After a moment, he speaks again.

“I can’t imagine loosing people in that circle…things must become so…empty. As if the world seems too small all of the sudden.

So no, it’s not selfish to feel alone when that circle is gone.”

His words spark comfort. The hollowness within your palm seems less heavy.

“Thank you.”

You whisper, and he nods at you.

“You don’t have to be alone, y/n. My family…when they spoke to you tonight about staying with us when we travel to the mountains, it was not because there’s a need to replace what you once had. Y/n, we want you to embrace this new circle-“

“What if I’m not ready to find a new circle?”

The vehement tone you were bearning stunned neteyam for a moment.

“Your mother was right. The sky people will take, and they will kill, and they will hunt, until everything under the sky of pandora is either dead or theirs..”

Your eyes hardened for a moment and Neteyam was still as he took in your words.

You look up at the moon once more; taking a breath.

“I do not wish to fear them anymore, Neteyam.

I want them to be the ones who fear us.”

There was a new found devotion in your heart.

A bitter song of  fire and desolation.

Vengeance.

Each note a new mockery of blood and ash. Every chorus an unfamiliar revelry of hunger.

That night, under the fallen stars and the cold moonlight, the inextinguishable plotted purpose was born within you.

Neteyam sighed; his gaze fitting back to the moon.

“And so you will..”

No. 

Don’t. 

I don’t want to loose you in the fire.

But he didn’t dare speak it aloud.

After a moment, he spoke again.

“I have something for you.”

He felt his heart flutter when your eyes met his.

He reached into the pocket of his loincloth.

“It was a gift I planned on giving during the ceremony.”

You felt twitch of anguish as you recalled the memory.

“You already contributed your gift..you gave that armband my father taught you how to weave.”

He gave you a tender look. The kind whispered in the solace of summer and soft secrets.

“It is for you. Not for your loss.”

His words unclouded a new warmth in your chest.

For a moment, your anger ceased to simmer.

“I made this, for you a long while ago..but I never found the right time to give it to you.

Then..the incident happened and I knew it wasn’t a good time..I was planning on giving it to you on this day..but the plans changed.”

He opened his palm to reveal a small carved wooden spiral, polished and smooth. 3 strings with little charming dangling.

The first charm was 2 purple colored crystal, the second was a wooden bead that wore a Maude color, with a tree carved on it, the last was a stack of small purple beads with marbled colors.

He placed it gently in the palm of your hand, and you cradled it with such delicacy.

“Oh it’s beautiful…”

Your breath truly caught itself in his trap.

“When we were young your mother made you that necklace out of those crystals and small jeweled beads, the one she found in the river?..you were so happy to wear something so colorful..I remember the purple ones were your favorite. You always placed them so that they were in the middle. I’d thought I’d add them as a small bonus.”

He smiled at the memory.

You hugged him, your cheek pressed against his chest, he was stunned for a moment but hugged you back, you looked up at him and your breath caught for a moment, your faces mere inches apart.

You both Depart slightly and avert your eyes.

“Thank you. It’s lovely, Neteyam.”

You said softly, he nodded and smiled at you.

“The spiral suits you. Even now with this great loss you bear. It’s a connection. Even to those who are no longer with us.”

You smiled at him back, and the two of you started to walk back to the village.

How could you not see it? The spiral. A sign of support? Of friendship? Of trust?

No my dear Y/n.

It was how he felt like his soul was steadily orbiting around you. Thoughts of you never ended.

His circle.

His spiral.

You were the center.

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

Years later….(y/n is now 18.)

(her code name is “X” neteyam’s name through comms is canonically ‘pathfinder’)

Jake yipped to Neytiri as she raised her bow and looked over her shoulder.

Her face is adorned with war paint, much like yours. She had painted you for the day. Red, purple, blue, the colors of your ikran worn proudly like a hyde of victory.

“Remember the plan.”

Jake says through his throat comms, his volume fighting the wind. You held your two fingers to the small mic on your neck so you could hear through your earpiece.

“Neytiri and I will strike from above, X, you're my Archer. I want you to hit em’ quick and move out fast. Eagle Eye, pathfinder, you two are spotters. Do not engage in close range, or air combat, understood?”

You heard lo’ak groan through his comm.

“Bro, why does Y/n get to have all the fun!?”

You felt a tinge of pride. Knowing you were Jake’s right hand out in the field. Higher ranked than either of his son’s. A skilled Archer. 

“Because I'm older and I have more fun.”

You quipped back, unable to hide the smile in your voice.

“Ya know what'd be fun? If you were to crash straight into one of those mountains and fall in your cocky as-”

“Both of you! No arguing on the comms!”

You refocused as the smell of ash and metal was fast approaching. YOu and the war party arrive on the scene right on time

You flew up above the train tracks and watched as the vehicle crashed into a collision of smoke and ash on the derailed tracks.  The air scorched to sting your flesh with an uncomfortable heat.

Neytiri let out a ululating sound to signal to you as she flew down to help Jake. Behind you were 3 smaller aircrafts. 

You grabbed your bow from the side saddle, mentally commanding your ikran to dive.

Everyone who witnessed Y/n fight swore the wind under her ikran’s wings were grazed with fire.

She was made of red-ribboned rainstorms in a scarlet blaze of uncharted wind and wildflowers.

For a moment it’s all too real. The encore of your arrows, the satisfying stretch of your bow string, Like the last note before the chorus. You dive down, sliding down the neck of your Ikran ever so slightly as the wind stings your cheeks, the sunlight strong. You draw back, a loud call escaping your throat, and the arrow flies.

Its in a blink of an eye the cockpit window is shattered, the pilot now sporting an arrow of yours through his neck as the metal gray bird ceases it’s flight and collapses in a cloud of smoke and sulfur.

You’d usually be celebrating if two bastards weren't behind you.

You grasp two arrows this time, the long wooden shaft in your clutch as you line them up properly for the next shot. 

The pilots pathetically attempt to surf with the wind beneath you, scattering your duo targets into far off spots.

Thats the thing about humans. They tiptoed on the wind as if it was uneven ground. Na’vi warriors like you danced upon airstorms and harsh rains. A swirling spiral of helix grazes your skin as you feel one of their shots fly past you the heat just missing your ikran,

You soothe him before regaining your position, you mentally make a new command to your ikran.

‘Drop’

In a moment, the settled feeling of security that once shaved your bones seems to wither away.

Your ikran free falls, rolling against the wind that whips and wails. Your chest heaves as you ready your shot, the reverberation from your bowstring sings to your fingers as the two arrows fly, hitting both pilots as your irkan regains a flying position instead of a falling one, all adrift in a fleeting shot.

The aircrafts fall together, crashing against the ground.

The ground team jake had arranged comes into view frm the side forest clearing, all watching in awe as if you were the embodiment of phoenix.

They raised their bows and let out warcalls, you pridefully returned, raising your bow above your head and releasing a war call of your own.

Neteyam watched from afar. His ikran synced with Lo’aks as they circled the scene below, na’vi led by Norm gathering all the weapons they could.

But he couldnt let himself focus on the world below when all he could see was the woman made of exquisite inferno and grace was scorching the sky with her blaze.

Neteyam felt the wind brisk through his braids as he looked up, squinting against the sunlight in hopes to catch another glimpse of you.

The light of day made you seem grazed with gold that brushed the cobalt hues.

He watched as you shot down the aircrafts, he watched you shoot two arrows.

To Neteyam, you were made of fire.

Remnants of moonlight and high-tided sea storms. A hellish radiance and a scarlet soul.

Neteyam remembered the night he saw the flame embed itself in your soul. The night he gifted you that carving that was now a charm that rested tied to the long expanse of your bow.

He hated it. How inconsolable he feared you were, how he feared this new alit flame would burn his touch away from you. Useless was an understatement, of how he felt that night, even the stars above refused to guide him down teh right path.

He knew you were angry.

He was angry too.

He wanted to fight just like you did. His hatred for these sky demons simmered beneath his skin. He was a warrior. He wanted to fight next to you and his father. He was a protector of the people.

He had seen what they had taken from his home, from his parents, his family, from you.

At first, he thought it was jealousy.

The way Jake encrusted you to be his main archer. To shoot down sky ships.

Neteyam? He wasn’t anywhere near the fighting. Not anywhere near you.

He knew his father thought him and Lo’ak were “too important” to be fighting.

Jake was trying to salvage the sons made of stone before the heat of war can melt the rock.

Were you better than him?

Stronger than him?

Why did his father trust you more than he trusted his eldest?

As he watches you now, the archer who had her arrowhead aimed at his heart from day 1.

He knows its love. It must be.

It keeps him awake at night. The devoured feeling that gnaws at his heart. You were the center of his sky in all your celestial glory and he wished he would have gifted you the entire universe but instead he gave you that carved spiral.

He loved you because where other struggled to see in the dark you danced with dusk. You were a paradox. Detached, but focused. Because you somehow made the most dissolute and reckless seem graceful. You were real. Imperfect. Unconfined hunger bordered by each beautiful bruise blemish and scar that covered your skin. 

You haunted him.

“Bro!”

And funny enough, it seems eywa created little brothers for a different kind of haunting.

Neteyams eyes flickered to where Lo’ak circled around him on his ikran.

The cold colors tattered across the ikrans purple and blue skin, trapping the yellow large speckles of shapes of the banshee’s skin.

Lo’ak’s echoes dwindle in the gust of wind, the war paint he wore proudly on either side of his face, Neteyam had watched Y/n paint Lo’ak after his begging back at high camp.

Something about Lo’aks smile in situations like these always found ways to disquiet Neteyam.

His eyebrows hover above his eyes as his fangs bare through his smile.

“Bro! We have got to get down there!”

Neteyam shakes his head, a warning look traces his features.

“No way! Dad will skin us!”

Lo’ak shakes his head, the wind uplifting his braids as he dives.

“C’mon! Don’t be a wuss!”

The flushed first notes of an uncertain heartbeat ablaze neteyam’s mind as he dives as well.

“Shit! Lo’ak! Get back you dumbass!”

Lo’ak dived blow into the musk of what might as well be no man’s land. The air wailed and whipped around him as he hopped off his Ikran. Yanking his kuru from his banshees and running towards the chaos in question.

He looked over his shoulder to see Neteyam following suit. He laughed, waving his hand through the dust and smoke.

“C‘mom bro!”

“Lo’ak!”

“Lo’ak come back!”

Lo’ak faltered momentarily when he saw Norm directing some navi’s into a brigade to gather all the weapons from the train’s supply cart. Swiftly swerving to stay out of the dream walkers sight, he joined the forming crowd where around where Tarsem had just opened a new cart of guns.

“Here boy- take this weapon! Go!”

Lo’ak let put a silly war cry and puffed up his chest,

Neteyam came to a halt.

“Lo’ak, you don’t even know how to use it.”

Lo’ak waved the gun around like it was weightless, handling it like one of Tuk’s toys.

“Nah bro. Dad taught me!”

Neteyam rolled his eyes, done with Lo’aks bullshit.

“I’m sure he did-

Let’s go-“

He grabbed lo’aks bicep but Lo’ak shrugged him off.

“Or maybe I’ll just be like y/n and shoot down some sky demons!”

Above the clouds, you circled the ensuing hustle below. Watching the brigades, monitoring the ground team. Your bow at the ready in its position on your saddle sheath.

And then you saw them.

“Son of a bitch!”

You hissed quietly, swiftily diving down to where the duo of your headache embodied currently argued about something stupid.

Lo’ak smiled as he saw you, but it faded as he watched the shadow of your Ikran (which was larger than the average Ikran, granted)

Loom over the both as you hopped down, glaring at them.

“What are you two shitheads doing here!?”

The feathers on your raid top gently shook in the breeze, a few of your beads clanking together in your braids as you made your descend.

Neteyam seemed to straighten, but his breath seemed to form a blockade for his own voice.

Maybe it was the way the brightly covered beads and feathers of your top accentuated your skin. Or maybe it was the way the fathers in your braids matched your waist beads Kiri had made you.

Maybe it was the way your loincloth seemed a bit more perfect than usual as it hugged your hips.

Maybe it was the way the red, blue, and purple war paint on your face outlined your eyes like wings and shed down your cheeks like tears, sorrowed in starlight for you had just been warrior of the wind.

I guess we’ll never know.

Lo’ak spoke for him.

“We wanted to help! C’mon, we have the ground team to be spotters! They don’t need us! I’ve been practicing the trick you taught me with the bow, just let us fly with you- we promise we’ll-“

You shot Lo’ak down before the words flooded further, the scarlet hues ablazed and begged for nothing but obedience in your voice.

“Kehe! You will do nothing-! Go back to your post. Both of you. Now!”

You swatted Lo’ak with your bow, hissing at him, Neteyam tried to drag Lo’ak away.

“Bro let’s go!-“

The sound of heavy mechanical whirring instilled the heightening of your awareness in the moment, your ears pining back as you saw the larger ship approach.

“Gun ship inbound!”

Jake shouted, you saw neytiri hiss and take off on her Ikran.

“Shit! Run!” You cursed, shoving Lo’ak and Neteyam in the opposite direction and making a break away from the approaching enemy.

As it would seem time was not in your favor, your Ikran had already been spooked away by the blast, Neteyam grabbed your hand before you could run, 

“Come with us, now!

Go-!”

He shoved Lo’ak ahead of him as they ran, Neteyam’s hand clutching yours as you kept pace with the two.

The 3 of you climbed over the derailed debris, Neteyam and you scaling the bright yellow RDA logo train doors,

“Bro come on!” Lo’ak called.

A flash of light invaded your vision, the scorching heat of the blast incircled you.

You feel Neteyam attempt to reach for you, but instead all you feel is a tug on your wrist as your senses start to numb. 

Your airborn for a moment, then your body collides with the uneven ground, the rocky surface below.

You groan, your vision blurring. The embers and ash clash against your skin in the harsh sting of the hot air. 

You winced in pain as the adrenaline started it’s course of abandonment. The aching sensation swallows your body. 

Scarlet etched its way in a jagged scratch on your side. The world seemed to darkn as the scarlet hues slowly faded to black. The sky’s golden and blue game of chance changes its rules as your eyelids become heavy.

Neteyam’s eyes shoot open as his vision readjusts itself clearly.

Lo’ak is above him, shaking him awake. Panic in the half-notes of his jagged breaths.

“Bro!? Bro! C’mon, get up we gotta go!”

Neteyam stands to his feet, groaning, but quickly regaining his senses.

He looked down at his hand to see where something small and beaded made its home in his clutch.

A bracelet?

Your bracelet.

It hit Neteyam like a tidal wave.

“Shit! Y/n-“

Neteyam tried to run past when his body collided with a taller one, Jake stood looming over his son’s, placing one hand on each of their shoulders “Hey! Easy, easy, where’s Y/n?! Are you hurt?!”

Neteyam tried to speak but all it was met with is stuttered breaths and a poor panicked exclamation.

“That way! I meant to grab her arm and I grabbed this instead-

The blast-“

Jake didn’t hesitate as he started running in the direction you were in, Lo’ak seemingly still in shock and Neteyam following his father without missing a beat,

“Stay behind boy! Get your brother out of here!”

“But sir-“

“That’s a direct order!”

Norm, quickly dragged Neteyam and lo’ak away to the sidelines of the forest to make their quick escape.

The sound of a screech flooded your ears, the footseps barely audible over the smoke and wind.

“Y/n! Oh child, Eywa please no.” 

You reached for your knife with the last ounce of motor control you could muster, before a hand gently lifted you on your back, the sun’s blinding silver line halo of heat scorched your eyes, you hissed and winced in pain.

The hands were familiar, it calmed you rather quickly.

You knew it was neytiri when the blurry shape of gray purple and green, faintly recognizable as her bone collared-top.

You groaned, the raw rushes of pain encased your vision.

“I’m sorry-”

You mumbled.

“Shh. No apologies, my dear girl. Come, we must go. Quickly.”

The last thing you remember is the gently shrill of her Ikran and her hand around your waist was she settled you in front of her on her ikran. The Scarlet hue no painted the wind.

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

When you awake, its to the sound of herbs grinding soflty in a boil. The reverberations of the grinding tool against the small wooden bowl make your ears twitch.

Your vision settles. Mo’at sits infornt of the small fire in the tsahiks tent, Tuktirey by her side.

Her big eyes blinking at her grandmother’s handy-work, her much smaller tail swishing to the beat of each sound.

You sat up slowly, with a small wince. But the pain was significantly better.

Tuk gasps

“Y/n! You're alive!”

She wraps her arms around your waist, nuzzling her little head into your chest. You smile at the smaller girls, roughly a few of her braids, kissing the top of her head.

“of course I’m alive, yawntu! It would take a million Sky People to take me out.”

You teasingly mocked the position of an archer, holding a pretend bow and arrow made out of thin air as Tuk laughed.

Mo’at gently cleared her throat, making her way to you as she placed a hand on your shoulder.

“ Child, your wounds were deep, but they shall heal quickly with the salve. Kiri shall be back with more herbs soon. But please rest, simply until the bandages are removed.”

You nodded greatfully, squeezing her hand in a gesture of thank you.

She was the closest thing you would have to a grandmother, even before your parents began their journey with Eywa. You never got to meet your actual grandparents. They died in the attack on hometree. The only memory you had of them was through the clans' stories.

You wore a choker that was strung with river pearls and brown leather, a small navy-blue colored stone in the middle. A treasured piece your grandmother once wore.

Tuk snuggled up to you in the hammock, and you gently rubbed her back.

A soft rustling made your ears perk up when Kiri slipped through the tent flap with a basket of herbs.

“Tsmuke, (sister)

You are awake.”

Her expression softened, as if tensed up since the moment you returned unconscious. It probably was.

She handed the herbs to Mo’at and kneeled at your side, gently brushing a few of your braids away from your face.

“How are you feeling? Better? I used yalna bark when grandmother wasn’t looking. Was it Lo’ak again? It’s always Neteyam getting in trouble and you getting hurt when that sxkwang gets bright ideas-“

You gently stopped her mid rant. Holding her hand gently to your chest.

“I am fine, Kiri. A few scratches and bruises has never done much harm.”

She chuckled softly, standing back to her feet to assist Mo’at with the rest of the preparations for other wounded warriors.

As the hours passed, and the sun started to set, Kiri had to drag Tuktirey off to bed and Mo’at left the tent for the night. Leaving you alone to find sleep.

Mo’at had insisted you sleep in the Tsahik’ s tent tonight. Get some extra rest.

You didn’t argue. It was better than sharing a hammock with Lo’ak. The boy snored more than what you were almost certain was normal.

It was an understatement to say you nearly killed someone when you heard the tent flap rustle. You jumped, instinctly reaching for your knife.

It was well after hours.

Everyone should be asleep.

Who was it? Were you followed when you left the train?

Was it a sky demon? An animal?

You slowly felt your heart steady once again when you saw a small pale figure enter your tent, the small glimmer of his mask dances in the firelight. Lo’ak is behind him, looking less hyper than usual. Instead, a subtle tinge of gray flickered past his eyes, but it quickly gilded itself to green and gold once it settled on your form. He released a breath of relief and spider smiled.

“See? I told you she was okay.”

It took you a moment to realize that Lo’ak was worried about you.

You gave him a small smile opening your one arm that wasn’t aching, and he slipped himself under it, sitting next to you in the hammock, resting his head on your shoulder.

Lo’ak was your best friend. But really, he was so much more than that.

He was your family. Your ride-or-die.

Your right hand.

It made you feel a bit guilty, that Lo’ak seemed to prefer you over Neteyam sometimes.

Lo’ak wanted you to be his teacher when it came to his archery training and sparring. Lo’ak wanted it to be you who he went on hunts with.

Yet again, he also only lets you braid his hair because apparently neytiri pulls too hard and Neteyam doesn’t know how to tie them off properly.

Spider was a bit of a different case.

As you grew older, you realized how much you envied your motehrs sense of lightness.

Her entire being seemed to be made of golden hour gardens and softly whispered summers.

She was strong. The strongest woman you knew.

But she was kind.

She wasn’t like Neytiri in the sense that she resented all humans.

Your mother always felt a sense of protectiveness over Spider. A small, pale boy who used his heart instead of brain, chasing shimmyflys and tripping over vines that were larger than him. She welcomed him into her circle. She shielded him from the storms of strange staring and pesky fears.

Your mother always cared for Spider. Helped him re-twist his locs and make him new loincloths and hair beads. Some of your earliest memories were you and spider playing with the small carved toys in your family’s tent, or giggling after dark under the blankets after your father told you both to go to sleep.

She argued when spider had to go back to his foster family, and ended up making bargains with him to stay overnight every few days.

You’re almost positive it’s the only motherly love spider has ever known.

He cried when your mother died. 

You think he might have cried more than you did.

Sobbed for days with you, and it brought you closer together.

You smiled as Lo’ak fidgeted with one of the bracelets on your wrist.

When you were about 8, Lo’ak was 7, spider was 9, your mother carved you these special beads for the three of you to use.

You three decided to make bracelets and your father helped you string them together, all collecting charms and gifting them to one another to add.

The two biggest stones were carved river crystal the two boys collected, Lo’ak rolled the beads between his two extra fingers, sporting a bracelet of his own you and spider made him.

“So, I heard you got your ass kicked.”

Spider snickered. Sitting down in front of you.

You whacked him with your tail.

“Fuck off. Those sky demons ate my arrows.”

Spider groaned, 

“I’m so pissed. I heard you fell down in a explosion and ate shit-

And now one took a picture for me!” 

Lo’ak threw and arm around your shoulder and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh yeah. And her Romeo was panicking because he didn’t save her in time”

You flushed, shoving him away.

Spider laughed, standing up.

“I can only imagine-“

He cleared his throat, before making his voice go an obnoxious pitch higher, twirling his locs around his fingers and batting his eyes, mimcmking what was supposed to be you.

“Oh Neteyam! My big strong warrior man! Come save me!”

You hissed in annoyance, but couldn’t help but bite back laughter at the back of your throat.

Lo’ak stood to his feet, puffing up his chest and taking his braid out of the way he tied them back, letting them hang, deepening his voice and stomping towards spider, dramatically holding him in his arms as spider collapsed with a loud rehearsed sigh.

Lo’aks Neteyam imitation sent you over the edge, you were now cackling and had rolled out of your hammock.

“I’ll save you from the demon ships with my bow and arrow!”

Lo’ak, you, and spider all break into a fit of laughter, rolling around on the ground. Lo’ak steadying himself by burying his face in your shoulder as spider banged his fist on the ground, finally, as the laughter died down, the three of you stared at the top of the tent, out of breath, the only sound being the gentle wheezing endnotes of your breaths.

“Glad you kicked some ass today. Those fucking RDA pilots didn’t stand a chance against you and that bow of yours.”

Spider whispered. Nudging your shoulder gently.

You smiled at him, Lo’ak squished in between you.

The three of you said your goodnight s, and you watched the two missing parts of your circle leave the tent before they could get caught after lights out.

You nestled back into the hammock, staring up at the ceiling.

The aching in your arms hasn’t completely vanished it’s fortification of pain in your shoulder.

You gently rub circles around the small carved spiral you untied from the long shaft of your bow when spider dragged it inside.

You played with the small crystals and the beads, gently humming to yourself.

Your fingers traced along the shape, Neteyams eyes invaded your mind.

It was fascinating, really. How a warrior such as yourself had won today's battle and yet the one thing you truly yearned for was still not within your grasp.

It hurts sometimes, to think about how beautiful he was.

The way his irises encompassed golden hour in all its starlight sessions.

The air was thicker in the mountains like this, up here in high camp. Perhaps that’s why the sweltering residual warmth that rippled across your skin like lillies to a pond every time you thought of him

You wondered if he tasted like the sun. Sweet, possibly bitter. Bleak and addicting, such a delicacy deserved to never touch your lips.

Alas the stars did not align for you.

Not tonight.

You trace the spiral one last time before letting your eyes flutter closed.

Your tail flicked as you heard yet another rustling.

The sound of footsteps, slightly heavier than last time.

You groaned.

“Spider did you forget something again?..”

When no answer was heard you grumbled. Standing to your feet and untying the tent flap, only to be met with two two golden hour orbs that had just plagued your mind.

“”Neteyam?..”

authors note:

I’m finally done! I haven’t slept in two days but I’m finished. I can’t decided whether I like the way this turned out but I LOVE some of the smaller little details. Y/n is such a badass and she’s in her reputation era (I am not a swiftie). We love to see it 😩👏 this first one was a lil angsty but I PROMISE y’all, this series is NOT angst. I’ve got a ton of stuff planned. I’m thinking maybe a little bit of jealous Neteyam? Some humor? Spider and Lo’ak being the captain of the ship? Mo’at being a sassy Granmda? Maybe some sister bonding with Kiri? AHHH IM SO HYPED. I, about to pass out and I can’t feel my fingers but that’s it for now! Stay tuned for part 2 🏹

-Sol

Jan 2034

“Virago” series, chp. 1.

Taglist:

@plooto

[mangalho]

Ex-warbot OC

They don’t have names yet.

The two bots with the scary faces were specifically made for war, and now that it’s over, they still maintained their original ‘warface’ even though it has stigma associated to it. Many robots changed their faceplates post-war, as it made it easier to find jobs and not get into unnecessary conflict.

The sleeker looking guy used to be in their company, though he wasn’t made in the same factory as them; he isn’t their ’batch-mate’.

After the war he completely modified his frame, and now has an idol career. He desperately wats to erase his past, as people (and robots alike) will respond better to a ‘new’ and untainted idol.

The two warface bots are “brother and sister” and they do odd jobs here and there to make ends meet and to be able to afford things they want. Rich people hire them as bouncers a lot since they are a symbol of terrible times. Sometimes they earn 15k in one night for just one gig it’s crazy. They both really love clothes since it distances them from their body’s original purpose while simultaneously not erasing their past. Also they look cute and cool!

The idol bot once meets the warfaces by chance in the street and pretends he doesn’t know them AGAHAKALAK I think he’s insane… completely erasing your past and the person you were is psychopathic to me idk. Anyway

There arent a lot of warfaces going around anymore. since they either died during the war or changed their frames. Pre-war bots were re-fitted during the conflicts and just had to go back to their former unweaponized frames after it was all over so they’re fine.  All of these robots can download information and i want that type of learning to mostly disappear if its deleted, but if they learn things like we do or experience real events, those memories and skills can’t really truly be erased; if they do try erasing them, they will still remember them, just not with HD video clarity, which brings them immense suffering sometimes. “How to people live like this?!” Well buddy it sucks idk we all cope

Newly minted robots are wack because they don’t exactly have a ‘soul’ yet they just do things they’re supposed to do, but after some time, all of them actually develop real awareness and shit… my war bots had like a 78% chance of dying everyday when they were activated, but they survived and attained sentience at like one year post birth and they wised up rly fast after that. They remember their first year, but they describe it as a ‘weird haze’

These robots feel pain so they wont like dive into a hole or damage themselves too much. Self preservation means longer-lived machines which means less repair costs and less human lives on the line as well.. slay !!!

While the conflicts went on, most robots achieved sentience and decided to stop fighting so there was like a robots rights movement and eventually the war stopped altogether and now the robots have a salary and a normal life mostly. They arent organics, so they need other things. They are solar powered and need oil sometimes and also they need new nanomachines once in a while like we need vaccines. Get your boosters… its not just tetanus and coronavirus anymore now they gotta think about like..the trojan horse 9000

I want them to have this aversion to organic things dying bc they are universally gross. Like they dont like seeing living-machines die either but a rat being squished by a car is also gross!

There are probably some tensions between humans and robots but like i kinda get it bc i wouldnt mess with a guy who has like lead pipes for arms. also most robots ARE normal but some are insane idk 🙆‍♀️🤷‍♀️ just  like people are.

 mine are normal tho they’re just vibing 💖🗣🤙

[obsessive-evie]

GF KATE HEADCANONS

go thank @iminlovewithpaigebueckers, i also completely stole the formatting from her. ty twin

gf!kate def overheard you say/like a post that said hey mamas or mama, so she waits until she has you a little cocky to call you mamas just to see what happens it becomes her new addiction, especially lil mamas

gf!kate is a little shit

gf!kate sends you little facebook mom selfies whenever she travels

^^and/or vlogs and recaps when you guys can’t ft

gf!kate will learn your whole skincare routine just in case you need her to do it when you’re drunk

gf!kate appreciates feminine things and girly things: “i like that little sparkle, the white glitter it’s pretty,” while pointing to your inner corner highlight.

“you smell good,” when she catches you in passing or just when you’ve finished getting ready.

will sit on your bed helping you choose outfits… and will also cover her eyes when you get changed, all panicked just in case you don’t wanna be seen. doesn’t matter if you tell her it’s fine (she’s literally seen every inch of your skin) she’s sitting there with her hands over her eyes no peeking (maybe a single peek)

gf!kate will actually respect if you wanna pay or dress more masculine, she gets it. no stereotypes here!!

gf!kate will braid or curl your hair just to show her love and stare at you

^^^ for my textured hair girlies this includes how to do your edges!!! what products she needs to use on you!! how much!!!!

gf!kate is very white. gf kate will not understand certain slang or terms until you explain it to her. gf kate gets excited when she uses said slang correctly

gf!kate would make an attempt to read your favorite book when she’s traveling (i said attempt idk if she’s finish it i don’t know if she’s a reader or not) in my head she is simply bc i read a book a day and i make the rules here

gf!kate will also try your music taste!!

gf!kate loves buying her girl lingerie. she doesn’t give a FUCK abt prices or if you’re nervy. kinda goes with the femininity thing, she’d like to see you in lacey things and pretty colors and such

gf!kate is the biggest hype woman, genuinely thinks you are perfect (BUT IS STILL A WOMAN AND WILL UNDERSTAND HORMONES AND INSECURITIES)

gf!kate is a fan of traditional things: flowers, treating her girl to date nights she plans, she’s always driving, lowkey would ask your parent/parent figure/ important person in your life to marry you, not in a possessive way but in the way that she thinks it’s polite and necessary

gf!kate loves visiting her girls family, and they love her, no matter how crazy they are

gf!kate can fixate on your boobs or thighs or hips and just lay and kiss for forever they’re her fav place to nap, and let’s be real my girls napping a lot

gf!kate likes to hover and stare and just watch you do your thing in your habitat (you call her national geographic for a reason)

NSFW

gf kate lovesssss to give head, she just loves making you feel good and making you squirm, she also loves hearing you get loud, won’t ask you to be loud tho. but she’ll never tell you to not cover your mouth if you try to cover it, she just takes it as you trying to stay comfortable

gf kate will braid your hair before fucking you so she has something to pull 🫣

gf kate tries really hard to stay more controlling when she’s topping but she still gets shy sometimes and is also dying (she’s so turned on she can barely think)

gf kate is kind of afraid to be mean to you, she just feels too bad

gf kate will never proposition sex, she might hint at it or have that look in her eye, but she’d rather sit and be horny than ask you when you don’t want to

gf kate would go so far as to get herself off in the bathroom or shower just so she doesn’t bother you if she knows you’re not in the mood or on your period

gf kate gets worked up fast but tries to take it slower to make her girl feel good

gf kate likes phone calls and guided/mutual masterbation

gf kate takes a whilleeeeee to stop being shy when you top, specifically when you go down on her she’s so nervous and can’t look at you (go check out my fic if you like this one)

gf kate cannot handle it when you kiss her neck, like at all. especially when she’s fucking you if you kiss her neck she’d get all breathy and try to pretend like she doesn’t keep stalling and pausing her thrusts

gf kate also cannot handle it when you bite or kiss her shoulders, arms, and back. like that’s the way to get her to melt

gf kate will eat her girl out to hozier, fuck her girl to hozier, and let her girl fuck her to hozier

gf kate is adorable

[xxzlushiez]

Domestic Bliss

2023! B. Kaulitz x GN! reader

Synopsis: just wanted to write some comforting headcanons about 2023 Bill bc he’s just soooo💙💙

Notes: nothing really, fluff, comfort, showers together, ft: Tom, Georg, Gustav & Heidi

A/N: wanted to whip smth up while trying to come up w ideas💀 requests open😭

- So I’ve been dying to do this so let’s just start off with nightly routines

- After dinner or whatever you both do before bed he makes you both do skincare together

- We all know his skin is as clear asf so he always shows you what he uses and loves to use it on you too

- After you headbutt each other on who gets to brush their teeth first if you only have one sink😭

- I feel generally he likes to be pampered in bed so that means your usually holding him

- But sometimes if he’s feeling especially clingy he’ll be the big spoon

- He’s a early bird

- The exact opposite of when he was a kid it kinda just switched

- His mind is always buzzing and so when he wakes up he is just always moving around

- But when he’s feeling particularly slow like a day after a concert he’ll just watch you sleep or play with your hair

- Admiring you

- When he’s really tired he’s a HEAVY sleeper and so he’ll kick and spread out completely

- One time he shoved you off the bed and felt so bad

- Cradled you like a baby

- It hurt him more than it hurt you honestly💀

- Tried to wrap you in bandages but you had to hold him down to get him to stop😭

- installed the fluffiest carpet after so the impact wouldn’t hurt as much💀💀

- In the morning he loves to cook the most

- Has a shelf dedicated to cook books

- chooses a new dish for you both to try each day

- From different flavored waffles to the most extravagant, tropical meals you could never even think of

- Finds it endearing when you cook with him

- You both just move around each other so effortlessly in the kitchen it’s kinda amazing

- If you somehow wake up before him which is almost impossible and make him breakfast he’s just all over it

- Hugging you while you cook and taking pictures of you

- Always posting you two on Instagram

- Tom and Heidi comment the cutest things on his posts

- @heidiklum Vous êtes beaux tous les deux!! (You both look beautiful)

- @tomkaulitz ❤️

- Naturally you got close to the band because he’s around them the most

- Heidi and you became BEST friends and always surprised the twins with silly things like double dates and mini vacations

- He’s a ‘photos for memories’ guy as we all know and you catch him snapping a pic of you doing minuscule things everyday

- Very affectionate and likes to bring you places you usually wouldn’t go to without him

- Your opinion matters so much to him so he likes taking you with him to go shopping and tries on outfits for you

- asking for your suggestions 24/7

- “Are you sure you like this one Liebchen?”

- “Does this make my butt look small?”

- At home he likes to just lounge around with you

- When showering or taking a bath he’s likes letting you lean against him

- Washes your hair for you even if you don’t ask him too

- Brings you on stage because he likes to show you off

- Fans makes the cutest posters of you guys

- Praising you is his fav activity “Aren’t they so cute guys?! ich liebe dich so sehr”

- Fans love you so much

- They go crazy when you’re randomly pulled on stage during a show

- Leans against you when he’s singing

- Unconsciously gives everyone fan service with how he acts with you onstage

[ashs-pastas]

Hello! I didn't see any posts of hc on ur page so I suppose I'm the first request! It'll probs be a long one bc, Yandere AU and they're NSFW and SFW. So just... don't yell at me.

These are all Yandere AU versions so... they're all Yanderes.

- Jeff, Candypop, Masky and Hoodie NSFW alphabet and maybe 1 or 2 SFW hc?

- Jason the Toymaker | Random NSFW and SFW headcanons!!!1!!1!

Take your time of course, darling! And if you ever want more requests, just DM me if you'd like!

Yandere Jeff the Killer, Candy Pop, Hoodie & Masky nsfw alphabet [A-E] With some sfw headcannons

[someone laugh at the first pic with me pls]

I would never yell at you :’-) I have always wanted to try writing these!! I did a few because when I make a post too long my tumblr glitches grrr. Also I don’t know much about Jason the Toy maker so I will read up on him tonigjt and do those tomorrow :-) also please feel free to send more!!! also does Candy Pop have a canon name?? I’ve tried to find it but i might be dumb

Jeff the Killer nsfw alphabet

A is for Aftercare -

Jeff is not the best with aftercare… his first response isn’t to get up and clean up or anything but he loves to hold you tight afterwards. He will absolutely not let you get up for whatever reason. He likes pillow talk in a way. He doesn’t really talk much but he likes to hear you talk about whatever comes to mind. You could be talking about anything and he will just nod along and listen attentively

B is for Body part

His favorite body part on himself would be his smile of course. He also loves his arms. He’s pretty proud of the muscle that he has and loves to flex for you. He thinks he’s an absolute beauty and loves everything about himself though.

His favorite body part on his s/o is most likely their hair. It doesn’t matter whether it’s short or long, curly or straight, dyed or natural. He loves all the ways you style it and loves to play with it. It’s also something that he loves to grab on and pull on during sex. He has a thing for pulling on your hair and forcing you to look him in the eyes.

B is for Bondage

I actually don’t think Jeff is a big fan of tying you down because I think he would rather pin you down himself. He likes to show you how much stronger he is then you. He likes the fear in your eyes when you realize you can’t fight him off. The only bondage I can see him being into is gagging you if you are whining too much. He also ties you down when he leaves because he wouldn’t want his darling escaping

C is for Cum

Jeff is a nasty nasty man and he loves to cum pretty much all over you. He especially loves to cum on your face or chest. Seeing you covered in his seed makes his possessive side so happy.

D is for Dick size

Jeff is probably a good 5 and a half inches but THICK. He absolutely knows how to use it too.

D is for Dom

This may be controversial but I have seen a lot of sub Jeff headcannons and I can not picture that. Jeff is a mean dom 24/7. He is very selfish with his pleasure and he loves to be in control of your pain and pleasure. He is very demanding and expects you to submit to him at all times.

E is for Experience

I can see Jeff having had a few flings but they meant nothing to him and it was just when he was very horny and looking to get his dick sucked. With how selfish he has been with his own pleasure I think you would have to gently teach him how to please you. He would be very cocky and pretend he is a sex god though but he would actually take your advice. ( he would never say that aloud but he wants to be able to make your legs shake and have you screaming his name)

sfw headcannons

- Jeff is the type of guy to talk to you after you fall asleep. Usually quietly muttering about how he “fucking loves you” and he would “kill anyone for you”

- Jeff is not the sweetest guy but if he ever see’s that you haven’t ate much then he will get you your favorite foods and snacks even if he doesn’t like them

- He loves when you brush his hair. It’s often tangled and messy and he loves when you do it for him

Candy Pop nsfw alphabet

A is for Aftercare

Candy Pop is actually decent at aftercare. He would clean you up afterwards, often lingering on spots you are especially sore and cuddle up to you. Sex with Candy Pop is often tiring with how many rounds he likes to go so you would usually drift off to sleep in his arms.

B is for Body part

Candy Pop has a hard time picking a favorite body part on himself because he loves himself but he would say his hair. He loves how long and soft it is and he would encourage you to pull on it during sex or if he was going down on you.

Candy Pop’s favorite body part on you would be your chest. It doesn’t matter what gender you are or the size but he will constantly be groping and leaving marks all over your chest. He likes to gift you outfits that show off your chest so he has more reason to stare and touch you.

B is for Bondage

Candy Pop’s is into everything and bondage is one of his favorites. He loves tying down his sweet darling so they are unable to move and touching them all over and overstimulating them as much as possible. He would also love to be on the receiving end and be tied down by his darling as long as he could trust them not to pull any tricks on him.

C is for Cum

Candy Pop loves to cum everywhere he can. His favorite places to cum would be deep inside of you or in your mouth, and he expects you to swallow all of it because, “Good babies are grateful for treats.” Make sure you don’t waste a drop. He also loves when you cum inside of his mouth and on his face. He will happily lick up all of your sweet juices. He is addicted to your taste and will want to make you cum again so he can taste more of you.

D is for Dick size

Candy Pop is very long at 7 inches. He’s not the thickest but so long that he hits all of your sweet spots that have you seeing stars easily.

D is for Dom

Candy Pop is a major switch. He can easily go from being a bratty sub and mouthing off to a pleasure dom wanting to do their best to have you cumming over and over. Either way they will always be focused on pleasing you first.

E is for Experience

Candy Pop is very experienced and loves to show it off. He knows all the tricks and will abuse it to the max. He is very observant and will know exactly what you like and don’t like. He is also very good at guessing what kinks people have so don’t expect to be able to hide anything from him. Nothing is too wild for him, he just wants to try your favorite things out with you!

sfw headcannons

- Candypop loves to have spa nights with you. He is always willing to do all the work for you. He’ll put products in your hair and do face masks with you. ( kind of weird but if you like to shave, he will always offer to do it for you. and he will be very gentle )

- He loves to give you massages!! Very good at them too he might be a secret masseuse because he always finds where you’re sore and rubs the knots out

- If you like to do makeup he will BEG you to do his. It doesn’t matter if you are a pro or not very skilled, he will love the look no matter what

- He also strikes me as the type to really like wearing matching outfits (not completely but color coordinated and such)

Hoodie nsfw alphabet

A is for Aftercare

Brian is a great guy when it comes to aftercare. He will get you whatever you ask for. If you don’t want to move he will gently clean you up with a towel. If you want a bath he will run you one with lots of bubbles. He will inspect your body and apologize and kiss any marks he left behind.

B is for Body part

Brian isn’t the most confident but he likes his hands. He thinks they are very strong and he knows he can use them in multiple ways ;)

Brian’s favorite body part on you would be your lips. He’s always starring at them and thinking about how soft and plump they are. He absolutely loves kissing you and he likes when they are red and swollen after a makeout sesh.

B is for Bondage

I can see Brian being averagely interested in bondage but he likes to tie you down with softer materials like silk. But if you’ve been bad then he can always handcuff you. He does sometimes like to use your belt around your neck as a makeshift leash/collar, He loves tugging on it while he’s fucking you from behind.

C is for Cum

He can be a bit more shy and likes to pull out and cum on your stomach or back. He will not vocalize it but he would lose his mind if when he cums in your mouth you would swallow and open your mouth and stick your tongue out to show him that you swallowed all of his seed. He would instantly be hard again.

D is for Dick size

I think Brian is just short of 6 inches and pretty insecure about it. He’s very girthy though and fills you up perfectly.

D is for Dom

I can see Brian being a switch but like 90% dom and 10% sub. But I think if he was subbing and you teased him too much or were going too slow for his liking he would take back control by flipping you over and reminding you why he’s in charge.

E is for Experience

This is a hard one tbh. He’s probably had a few sexual encounters but nothing that went past second base. He would be very nervous your first few times but would quickly learn what you like.

sfw headcannons

- From the moment you started dating he will secretly be planning your wedding

- Also keeps notes of random things you like and don’t like

- The type to kiss any “ouchies” you might have got (i’m cringing at my own word choice but for some reason I can see him using it)

- He brings you flowers at LEAST once a week and they are always your favorite

Masky nsfw alphabet

A is for Aftercare

Also decent at aftercare. Will help clean you up and make you drink water. Also feels bad if he sees how rough he was and you are walking funny. He will carry you around.

B is for Body part

He loves his hair and is pretty happy with soft and fluffy it can get. He takes good care of it and can get annoyed if he’s having a bad hair day. If you compliment it or play with his hair, his ego will grow.

He loves your neck/throat. He just loves how soft and sensitive you can be when he kisses it or leaves marks. Your neck is always covered in love bites and he knows exactly where your sweet spot is.

B is for Bondage

Tim is a very big bondage fan. He likes a lot of the complex knots and such. As punishment he likes to tie you up in strange way that often leave you sore and bruised. I don’t know if this counts as bondage but he would love to get a sex swing, he thinks both you and him would enjoy it very much ;) He is not ALWAYS intentionally rough but he does feel a bit smug when he sees the rope burn marks the night after.

C is for Cum

Another nasty man. Will cum wherever he pleases. He likes to cum on your chest and face a lot. He likes the look of surprise when he pulls out of mouth and shoots his load all over your face. He likes to cum inside of you, only to make you walk around without panties so he can see his cum dripping down your legs.

D is for Dick size

A little under 6 inches but will brag about his massive cock constantly. Unfortunately you can not deny it because he is pretty big. Not the thickest but also not thin either.

D is for Dom

Tim is 100% a dom. You could not make this man sub if you tried. He would laugh in your face and edge you. I can see him having a lot of control issues and having an obedient little darling would make him very happy. Although if you were to ever act out… he would make sure there would not be a second time.

E is for Experience

Averagely experienced but never really played around kinks and fetishes until he met you. Unlike Jeff I think he would be very cocky but has the qualifications to back it up.

sfw headcannons

- He likes to participate in your favorite hobbies/activities with you. He might complain a little but he can’t hide his smile at seeing you happy and in your element

- Tim cannot cook but he will “help” when you are cooking. By doing the easy things such as chopping and preheating the oven lol

- The type to bring you stuffed animals. He will leave them in your room for you to find and deny it was him but you obviously know it was him

[qprpbj]

ik u posted ab this like a million and one years ago but ur pb&j runaway au literally haunts me. like literally stare up at my ceiling at night thinking about how fcking upset soda and darry would be haunts me. so i must know how do u think that went down 😣 like who brought up running away who actually brought it up as a Serious Thing They Could Do was it impulsive or heavily premeditated did they have a very solid plan HOW DO THE GANG REACT TO ITTTT omg this au haunts me SO BAD u have no idea 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ in my head i envisioned it as like they have a plan and a set day but then darry does smth that Really pisses pony off and he’s like “johnny 😐😐 idc we were meant to go in two weeks we’re going NOW i fcking #hate my brother” SO I NEED TO KNOW HOW U ENVISIONED IT i’m dying dead no matter what btw i love ur mind about the outsiders

stop bc i thought i elaborated more on that but when i scrolled down my account i literally made one half assed post and that IT oh that is so insane. i literally think about them on the daily though it’s not even funnyyyy so this ask made me so happy 🙇🙇 (just so you know these are basically all just messages of mine copy pasted from chats with @girlishwhimsies bc i’m too lazy to write it all out in diff words and bc the lore for this au still EATSSSS but id be SOOO happy to elaborate more on anything :D)

- i’m imagining some universe where like. the slap and everything never happens but that also means pony never really has a reason to bond with darrel so it just stays tense and weird for years and eventually he’s like. 16/17 and johnnys 18/19 and everything’s just gotten worse and both of them are so tired of their lives here. pony sees some obscure movie at the theatre and/or reads a new age book that’s set in new york about queerness in some way (idk what movie and/or book. will have to research) a la i’ve seen it in the movies and in the books i’ve read, this place is real, it’s not just in my head btw. and pony brings this to johnny and excitedly tells him this plan he has to just. up and run away to new york. he can drop out and change his name and get new ids (it was the 60s tbf) and say he’s a year or two older and he’ll get a job too with johnny. that they don’t have to just dream about being far away from tulsa, so to speak, they can just. do it. the only thing stopping them is themselves and their fears

-pony going to the library and stealing maps and checking out like 10 books about travelling and saving money and about new york and. maybe one or two he hides about queerness

-them asking dally what new york is like and dally getting all pissed but not thinking much of it. then suddenly they’re vanished with all their belongings overnight and dally knows Exactly where they’d have gone. the gang has to follow them but they never catch up

-dally shooting up in bed one night like a week later at like 3am rushing over to the brothers house all i know where they are. they asked me about. about new york the other day. oh my fucking god and darrel’s all just??? new y— NEW YORK?? what the hell did you SAY TO THEM??

-frankly i think they’d wanna go and look after them but they’re poor and darry has a job so. they just put out missing persons requests and have no choice but to call it a day. darry feels guilty but they were never that close but. but soda??? soda knowing pony ran away from him??

-i think pony would leave some cryptic message in a copy of gone with the wind (ironic) addressed to soda in the cover before he leaves but soda literally doesn’t read so he probably doesn’t find it it for ages. something about how you were the only thing keeping me alive in tulsa but i gotta go be my own person now, get away from all of this shit

-darry turns what remains of pony’s room upside down inside out looking for anything but. there’s absolutely nothing left for him

-pony sends a letter back to soda a couple months later all were safe and sound in new york and we really miss you, sodapop, every day. tell dally new york ain’t as bad as he thought…he oughta give it another shot someday. maybe you too, soda. tulsa ain’t home to people like us, soda, you’ve gotta understand why we had to leave

-he sends his first letter without a return address yet bc he’s not ready for soda to know where he is but the next one!!!

-by then it’s been like six months and pony’s hair is bleach blond (smiles) and he looks healthy for maybe the first time really ever. pony sheepishly coming out from behind his friend in some goofy totally-not-pony outfit (bc he’s fallen in loveeee with fashion. btw.) and soda hugs him so fucking tight he swears he stops breathing for a minute

-you know…darry’s been real choked up since you left. you know he…he gets it, right? he’s like you. n’he’s real torn up you left when he couldn’t, honey.

-maybe you…could bring him here, too. there’s family here for him if..he wants it. he’s just gotta get brave like i did.

[xotication]

☆,

i’m bored nd tired of videogames so here’s some more of what type of man i think kaneki is..

okay. when you & kaneki first meet, you have to break him into a LOT of things. one time you guys were texting nd he said something funny.. so you keysmashed & poor baby was CONFUSED.

“y/n are you okay..?”

having to explain it to him made the situation all the more funny but awkward at the same damn time. it’s a hassle having to explain gen z things to this man LMAO.

you had him download instagram, tiktok, even snapchat & learning how to use them was such a drag to him.

“why do you like this stuff anyway?” he says but a week later he’s sending you his entire fyp all like “HAGAHAHA BABE THIS IS SO FUNNY” like boyyy.. wasn’t you JUST talking shit?! at one point he even takes it upon himself to upload silly lil vids & they start to go VIRAL. he doesn’t understand why bc half the time he’s just talking about you & explaining diff things he doesn’t understand about girls.

“my girlfriend asks me really dumb questions all the time, i don’t get it.. how does your brain come up with that?? what on earth do you mean by ‘would you still love me if i was a worm’ like what?!” & then there’s just girls in the comments sending thoughts nd prayers for his poor soul.

basically, kaneki becomes a whole different person after dating you for just a couple months. he adapts damn near all your habits nd it’s the most endearing yet hilarious thing ever.

for example: say he’s talking about a girl or boy & you give him a nasty look bc.. why is he talking about OTHER PEOPLE?! eventually when you start having story times that include someone else, he gives you the MEANESSSTTTT side eye ever. it’s insane.

& don’t ever ask him about it either. “why’re you looking at me like that?”

“idk, why’re you conversing with people who aren’t me?”

“ken, i have to socializ-”

“says who?!”

not only that, but kaneki is airheaded when it comes to people. like if the man doesn’t like someone or something. it shows all over his face.

one time you guys were out eating, & he thought the waiter was being a lil too friendly.. manz was making the most uncomfy faces ever. 😭

“ken- fix your face?!”

“i’m sorry! i’m trying my best.” you guys both whisper yell.

ken gets a house kitty, & when you’re not home, he makes one of those, “gf isn’t home.. yk what that means.. OPTIMUS PRIME ON THE COUNTER” tiktok’s & thinks it’s so funny.

also, when you’re not home, this poor manchild is so bored.

he could read books upon books in a day & still be dying. it’s not until he hears that front door unlock that he feels freed from the shackles that are his boredom!

ken loves to annoy you, he loves to be around you, he loves to look at you, to touch you, any & everything to do with you- he loves.

not to mention.. he begs you to build legos with him. when you agreed, he made it a whole little picnic date & made sure that the weather would be perfect… he also made you swear to not leave the park until the whole lego set was completed.

kennie baby is soso cuteness.

posting my drafts cuz my brain doesn’t wanna work nowadays. 😫😫😫

[atopvisenyashill]

Hiiiii what are your theories on what post-resurrection Jon with be like?

So I AM curious if he’s gonna be a bit more animalistic. I went back to look at Varamyr and I feel like Varamyr is a weirdo but he doesn’t act like an animal, despite spending a lot of time as an animal. Now you can contrast this to some of the Starklings who will do shit like growl and howl and stuff, and Jojen in fact warns against staying an animal for too long.

“Bran the boy and Summer the wolf. You are two, then?"

"Two," he sighed, "and one." He hated Jojen when he got stupid like this. At Winterfell he wanted me to dream my wolf dreams, and now that I know how he's always calling me back.

"Remember that, Bran. Remember yourself, or the wolf will consume you. When you join, it is not enough to run and hunt and howl in Summer's skin."

But the thing is - it’s Rickon Bran and Arya doing that. Bran & Arya are barely old enough to be self aware and Rickon is a literal toddler (I think all the Starklings refer to him as “the baby” not as in “the youngest” but as in he is TINY still). Jon is sixteen. I do wonder if he adjusts better simply because he’s older. But to flip back again…Varamyr is our only reference and Jojen explicitly warns against it. So will Jon have a temper? Will he growl, go nonverbal when emotional, like Rickon does? Will he howl at the moon like Bran and Arya? Will other people find him unsettling? Not in the “why is this grown man acting like a wolf” way but in that way that actual wolves are unsettling….you know the stories about how you KNOW if you’ve seen a wolf because they’re fuck off huge, they LOOK like predators, and your instincts tell you “this thing can kill me” in a way they don’t when you see a regular dog? What if he’s just unnerving to be around?

I do wonder about his physical look as well. Every person who ~comes back from the dead~ still bares the scars they got while dying. Beric & LSH’s injuries seem to healing human slow - that is to say, if they hadn’t received killing blows, Cat’s vocal chords would be healing at about the rate we see LSH start to regain speech, and Beric’s various cuts are scarring & healing at a normal rate. Bran is paralyzed. Drogo is…all of that. Will he face some issues with his body because the wounds are still healing? Will he have some more stiffness in his limbs, like the way his burnt hand has problems? I don’t really know how he would pick up the red eyes and white hair from ghost - Beric, LSH, Bran, even Drogo, they don’t suddenly change eye or hair color or something, and Brynden was BORN albino it’s not like his magic made him that way later - but I’m ngl I still kind of hope he’ll have the red eyes, I think it’s neat. He doesn’t need white hair tho I think that’s overkill.

When it comes to his priorities, I think we're going to see a huge shift. I know everyone ragged on the show for just having Jon be like "yeah i'm peacing out bye" bc there's going to be more hubbub than that but I do think Jon is going to feel incredibly jaded when it comes to the Night's Watch. I always come back to his confrontation with Maester Aemon and the fact that Aemon is distressed by his choice to not attempt to help Elia and her babies...

Maester Aemon sighed. “Have you heard nothing I’ve told you, Jon? Do you think you are the first?” He shook his ancient head, a gesture weary beyond words. “Three times the gods saw fit to test my vows. Once when I was a boy, once in the fullness of my manhood, and once when I had grown old. By then my strength was fled, my eyes grown dim, yet that last choice was as cruel as the first. My ravens would bring the news from the south, words darker than their wings, the ruin of my House, the death of my kin, disgrace and desolation. What could I have done, old, blind, frail? I was helpless as a suckling babe, yet still it grieved me to sit forgotten as they cut down my brother’s poor grandson, and his son, and even the little children …” Jon was shocked to see the shine of tears in the old man’s eyes. ...“Once. So you see, Jon, I do know … and knowing, I will not tell you stay or go. You must make that choice yourself, and live with it all the rest of your days. As I have.” His voice fell to a whisper. “As I have …”

There’s nothing he could have done and he knows it. AND YET. How do you justify to yourself hiding out at the Wall in safety while children of your house are slaughtered? How do you make your peace with it? You can’t! Love is the death of duty!! Aemon doesn’t ever make peace with it! He spends the last days of his life hating himself for being so old, being unable to help Dany, reaching out for the brother he’s long lost in his dreams. I think being murdered by his men, after months of arguing with them, of trying to get them to put aside their shitty little beef with the wildlings and focus on the real threats to their safety, and the knowledge that “Arya” is ALIVE OUT THERE, it’s all going to massively change his priorities. When you factor in the girl in gray turning out to be Sansa (don’t boo me i’m right!!)…I don’t think he’s going to hem and haw about being a brother of the night’s watch, I think he’s taking his shit, and he’s getting the fuck out of dodge.

But when it comes to his state of mind…again, I’ve come around to the idea that Jon is going to be resurrected 100% due to Northern type magic, and not anything Melisandre is doing. I’m willing to be wrong on this one btw, I do think there’s still a shot some funky magic brings him back but I think with all the build up to Jon actively warging, to accepting his magic, and opening his third eye, is in fact building up not just to Jon spending a long time in Ghost while his body is found and resurrected, but that his body will HEAL while he’s not in it the way Bran’s does, and he comes back to an injured but on the mend body.

If he’s waiting around for his body to heal though, he’s going to be spending a hot minute inside Ghost & greenseeing. Possibly longer than Bran did. I think like Bran, he’ll have his own mini vision quest as he wanders and sleeps in ghost’s body - and I think he’s going to find out Bran is still alive. See, Bran figures out that Robb is dead through a green dream, then buries the memory-

The dream he'd had . . . the dream Summer had had . . . No, I mustn't think about that dream. He had not even told the Reeds, though Meera at least seemed to sense that something was wrong. If he never talked of it maybe he could forget he ever dreamed it, and then it wouldn't have happened and Robb and Grey Wind would still be . . .

And we know Summer is aware of his scattered siblings, dwelling on them often. I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility that the connection works the other way. We also know Bran is still dwelling on his family, with his weirwood dreams focusing on Ned. Similar to Aemon, similar to Jon’s whole story, Bran struggles in balancing his love for his family with what he feels is his duty. Not only that but imo there’s a lot of connections between Jon and Bran when it comes to magic. Jon is the only character we see saying goodbye to Bran, which has always stuck out to me. Bran also attempts to open Jon’s third eye before Robb (presumably - i think if bran was talking to robb in his dream, he would have brought it up) Sansa, Arya, or Rickon (again, presumably).

It seemed to sprout from solid rock, its pale roots twisting up from a myriad of fissures and hairline cracks. The tree was slender compared to other weirwoods he had seen, no more than a sapling, yet it was growing as he watched, its limbs thickening as they reached for the sky. Wary, he circled the smooth white trunk until he came to the face. Red eyes looked at him. Fierce eyes they were, yet glad to see him. The weirwood had his brother's face. Had his brother always had three eyes?

Not always, came the silent shout. Not before the crow…. Don’t be afraid, I like it in the dark. No one can see you, but you can see them. But first you have to open your eyes. See? Like this. And the tree reached down and touched him.

And Bran has that near miss where he and Jon are in the same places at the same time, with Bran running into Sam & Gilly. Additionally, we get all those scenes with Mormont’s crow doing weird stuff and we have no idea if it’s Bloodraven or Bran - it’s very possible Bran At Some Point In Time has been trying to get Jon’s attention for a long time.

All of that to say I think there’s a build up to Jon and Bran being the first Starklings to reunite, but not in body, just in mind! While trapped in Ghost’s body greendreaming about his thought to be dead brother, Bran will have the opportunity to jumpstart Jon’s magic the way his was, and Jon will realize Bran is still alive - potentially even exchanging important information about the Others, Winterfell, and Jon’s real parents…Both boys return to their bodies, turn to the people they’ve sworn their lifetimes to and go “actually fuck this shit and fuck you too” and try to leave.

Try, being the operative word here, of course.

[t4tozier]

this post made me think about diabetic jace in the sorcery classroom with mary ann, kipperlilly, and ruben after school waiting for the others to arrive so they can discuss The Plan. and jace’s fantasy dexcom beeps and he’s like hey wait a minute. i don’t think i ate lunch today. and then he’s like hey wait a minute. i think i actually feel really bad. and he kind of crumples into his desk chair and ruben’s like uhhh mr stardiamond? are you okay? and jace kinda waves him off and is like yeah i’m fine. low blood sugar it’s fine. and ruben’s brows are knitted but he doesn’t really know what to do so he just kind of. stands there.

but then mary ann is actually the one that comes up to jace and tugs on his sleeve and goes. jace. here. it’s mango soda. and she gets up on her tiptoes to put the can on his desk. meanwhile this is one of her safe “foods” so she’s never seen without it and jace is like mary ann thanks but it’s fine i have—and then he realizes that he didn’t restock his drawers from the last time he ran out of stuff. so he’s like. are you sure. meanwhile every word is like slurred and so quiet with how much energy it takes him to get out and mary ann stares at him so intensely. opens the can for him. and goes kipperlilly. go find porter.

and she’s like um, what? and mary ann just stares at her like i said what i said. and so KC runs off. and then she goes ruben. go to the cafeteria. they give me the extra cookies at the end of the day. and also i need another soda. and ruben’s freaked out bc jace looks like he’s dying and also this is the most he’s heard mary ann speak in forever so he runs off too. and mary ann sits with jace as he takes sips of the mango soda and talks to him about quokki pets until porter arrives. and then she lets porter fuss over jace and chastise him about not paying attention to his sugar and when ruben returns she slides one of the cookies onto jace’s desk and cracks open her new soda. and porter rubs her head and says good job, kiddo, and to most people she’d look like nothing changed but her eyes definitely have a slight crinkle and she carries herself a little straighter for the rest of the day

[soongyeopsal]

hi bambi this is zeta <3

is it okay to write smth about wonwoo taking care of his gf bcs their holiday plans were thrown out of the window due to her catching a cold? just overall fluff and comfort :((

okay that's all bye ilysm💖

▸ Pairing: Wonwoo x F!reader

▸ Rating / Genre / AU: 13+ / fluff / established relationship

If you are a minor AND/OR if your account has no age in the bio, you will be blocked upon interacting (liking/reblogging) with this post.

▸ Warnings: none

▸ Word Count: 605

▸ A/N: Zeta darling I'm SO sorry I couldn't get this done before the end of the year. You were sick and then so was I 😭 Just pretend this was published like 2 weeks ago pls. @shuadotcom - beta for life, etc etc ♥️

Wonwoo stops in your bedroom doorway, bowl in hand, to survey you. Or rather, to survey the lump in the center of the bed that’s covered by your duvet. “Sweetheart, lunch.” He sighs when the only response is the quiet noise of the television. “Come on, you have to eat something.”

Something between a muffled groan and growl fills the room and then the lump moves. The top of your head slowly peeks out from under the duvet and rests on the pillow at the top of the bed. Wonwoo smiles to himself as he watches your exposed eyebrows furrow before you drag the fabric back up to envelop yourself once more. 

You hear Wonwoo sigh, then the gentle clink of earthenware being set on your nightstand before long fingers reach into your comforter and peel it back to reveal your face. Your hair is disheveled and you’re a bit pale, but the pout that’s settled onto your features as you return his bemused stare makes his heart flip.

“Wonwoo,” you finally rasp after being exposed, “I’m dying.”

He sits gingerly on the bed next to you, planting a kiss on your forehead before replying. “You’re not dying, sweetheart. But you will if you don’t eat.”

The press of his warm lips on your forehead is soothing, but does little to assuage your disappointment about all the plans you’ve had to cancel this week. “What’s the point in eating if I can’t have the seasonal stuff I’ve been waiting all year for?” 

“What do you mean? Chicken noodle soup is seasonal.” 

“Is not,” you whine, ignoring the way he smirks down at you playfully. A little teasing and faux ignorance have always been his way of making you giggle even when you don’t want to. And now you actually do want to, but the pang of missed opportunity is still at the forefront of your mind. “We were supposed to go look at Christmas lights and go caroling and ice skating and make gingerbread houses and just… There’s so much stuff I wanted to do, but I’m stuck here.”

Wonwoo pushes his glasses up his nose and sniffles, hurt. “‘Stuck’? You hate being with me that much?”

You sigh, sitting up to look at him better. Behind the warmth in his eyes is a hint of worry. Even though you know Wonwoo’s joking, you feel a pang of guilt for making him concerned in the first place. Suddenly not-seasonal soup is more appealing. “You know that’s not it, babe. There’s just…so much that we’re missing, you know? There’s so much that I wanted to do.”

Wonwoo doesn’t miss the way you tilt your head toward the nightstand, attempting to take more whiffs of the lunch he’s prepared for you through your stuffy nose. He moves to fluff the pillows behind your back before taking the spoon in his hand to feed you. Raised eyebrows above his lenses is all it takes for your weak glower to transform into an open, waiting mouth. Even on your worst days, he’s always there to comfort you. When you accept a few spoonfuls, Wonwoo is satisfied enough to answer. “We can do plenty of stuff here, you know. Movies, hot chocolate…some more soup, maybe.”

“That’s nice in theory, but you’ll get sick too.”

“Well–” he says thoughtfully, stirring your lunch again before taking some for himself, “– now it’s guaranteed. We can be sick together. So, how about that movie date?”

For the first time in days, your smile reaches your eyes as you return the warmth that Wonwoo continues to show you again and again. “It’s a date, then.”

[lvlyghost]

Call of Duty Headcanons: Vol I✨

How they’d react to their civilian s/o getting hurt

Pairings: John Price x Fem!Civilian!Reader

Tw: mentions of blood, angst(?, knife wound, price is sad. Laswell makes an appearance. Brief mention of Ghost bc 🥰. There’s probably more but I’m bad at this🧍🏻‍♀️

A/N: Heyyyy. So this is my first time writing something and posting it 👉🏻👈🏻 please bear with me and consider english is not my first language 🥹 corrections are appreciated ✨💃🏻I’ll be posting the rest in the upcoming days💕🌼 Enjoy!

Vol II✨ Vol III✨ Vol IV✨

The moment he had stepped in he knew something was wrong. The living room in complete darkness safe from the dim light coming from the lamp in your room. Door ajar.

He almost trembled at the utter sound of nothing.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the dead of the night, making his way to the bedroom you too shared.

Pushing the door open with more strength than he intended to, he saw you laying on the beige carpet, now stained with a deep red color tracing a path towards your body. As if someone had cut themselves by accident and left traces of blood behind.

“No, no, no, no, no.” His face contorted in pain.

Price had seen a fair amount of atrocities in his line of work. Bullet wounds, soldiers losing their limbs due to grenades. Lost brothers in every mission some of them dying on his watch. In his arms.

He crouched down, the absolute gruesome scene imprinted in his memory for the rest of his life. It wasn’t looking good yet he forced himself to breathe caressing your left cheek, trying to feel you. But your once warm body had gone pale and cold. His heart aches, like having his own soul being torn apart.

“Come on now, love. I’m here now.” John raked his eyes through your body until he found the wound. A few centimeters above your belly button. He froze for a second too long. A knife wound. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. It was inhumane. The amount of blood coming out from you. He placed one of his big hands to try to stop you from bleeding out. He had done it more times than he can remember. But never you. Just not you. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were good. Too good to be true. Too good for him. You were supposed to be safe from any bloody harm. He swore a silent oath that he’d look after his girl, he’d protect you even if it meant risking his own meaningless life. Tears began to prickle in the corner of his eyes. Jaw tightening. He has to be strong. But how? You’re his life force and now… why, why… why you.

“John.”

More blood comes spluttering from your mouth as you try to speak, say something to him. Tell him to not worry, that you’d be fine. It wasn’t that bad, was it? Your eyes were starting to close, your body losing life.

“Shh, love. Save your energy. Just… just, don’t close your eyes… keep ‘em on me okay? I’m getting you out of here now.

“Remember that trip to Florida we said we’d take when I got back? 1 hotel south beach?” A slow hum came from your red stained lips. “I got the tickets yesterday night. But I need you to be strong, eh?” He swallowed, hard. He was choking with his own emotions. There was a fire burning in his throat. She nodded, even through her watery eyes, even through the fear, she dared to believe. She believed that he would save her. And that was enough.

He’d call Laswell right away. Whatever this is, it wasn’t a random attack. His Captain instincts were screaming at him. John felt the presence of the person he trusted the most aside from Ghost, coming to stand by him. His eyes never once left your fragile body on the hospital bed. Looking vulnerable, small. Yet a fighter.

That’s my girl.

Price dreaded that if he left your side for a second you’d slip through his fingers. You’d be gone someplace he simply cannot follow.

“Made some calls.” Kate told him. John didn’t look at her, at first, he simply nodded ever so slightly. “We have reasons to believe this was a warning. A way to to get to you. To get your attention.”

“Well they bloody have it now, Kate.” He said, through gritted teeth. Clenching and unclenching his hands, finally turning his gaze to her. “Call my fucking team.”