#it makes the space feel hostile to the character

[katatonicimpression]

Hmm OK this is kind of a weird one

So, I love it when people post panels from comics here, especially older comics (i.e. not from ongoing series). If you're posting panels with clear and accurate citations, then great. It gets people interested, and allows them to look up the issue and read it for themselves. Great. Fabulous.

But a lot of older comics are filled with racial caricatures in the art and dialogue, and I really don't feel comfortable with just dumping that shit in the tags with no context.

To be clear, I don't think posters should be running interference for Marvel and censoring it. The opposite, I think it's important to know how bad things used to be and still are.

So, if you're scrolling through Sam's tag, you see all this awful art and stereotyped dialogue (white writers idea of how Black Americans talked in the 70s/80s), and the person posting it gives no context and implicitly condones it.

At least, that's how it feels to me. Like we're saying: this is a space where we're cool with racist stuff because if we weren't, we would have said something.

Idk I don't think it's my place to declare what is and isn't offensive wrg to this, but it does bother me, because it looks like endorsement.

[mercymaker]

sometimes i read some takes on this website and just think 'it's not that deep'

like.. people are SO quick to jump to conclusions about other people, it's wild

[novlr]

How do I describe a character when they’re angry and just “so done”? How would they act?

A Quick Guide to Writing Anger

It’s the hot-blooded, ever-challenging, angry character that often steals a scene and captivates readers’ hearts. From the brooding protagonist to the volatile villain, anger introduces a heightened element of emotive dynamism. Anger is a powerful emotion that can define a character's behaviour, interactions, body language, and attitude.

How Do They Behave?

Make impulsive decisions

Have a short fuse and react explosively

Hold grudges

Be physically aggressive

Be motivated by revenge

Exhibit self-destructive tendencies

Speak at an increased volume

Speak unexpectedly fast or slow

How Do They Interact?

Have issues with authority

Struggle to follow orders or instructions

Confrontational or verbally abusive

Overuse of swear words or insults

Struggle to focus or listen to others

Dominate conversations and interrupt often

Become isolationist

Short-tempered and accusatory

Describe Their Body Language

Clenched fists and tight jaw

Rigid and defensive posture

Maintained eye contact

Pacing or fidgeting

Aggressive movements

Increased muscle tension

Point and jab when speaking

Invade others’ personal space

Describe Their Attitude

A sense of dissatisfaction and frustration

Overly sceptical and distrustful of others

Impatient and easily annoyed

Confrontational and arrogant

Feelings of powerlessness

Motivated by vengeance or justice

Hostile and irritable

Blunt, direct, and stubborn

A lack of empathy

Positive Outcomes

Be a motivator for change

Inspire others with their passion for justice

Can be a motivator for personal growth

Learn to articulate their needs and set boundaries

Develop resilience and strength by managing their anger

Increased assertiveness

Experience catharsis and emotional release

Improved problem-solving skills

Negative Outcomes

Damaging to their relationship with others

Can lead to chronic stress or health issues

Become isolated, leading to loneliness and depression

Develop a reputation for being difficult or aggressive

Can cause legal troubles or social rejection

Lower self-esteem and sense of self-worth

Become violent or cause physical harm

Exhibit impaired judgement or decision-making

Useful synonyms

Furious

Enraged

Wrathful

Incensed

Infuriated

Livid

Raging

Fuming

Irate

Outraged

Vexed

Irritated

Resentful

Indignant

Seething

Mad

Hostile

Incensed

Cross

Huffy

[cassandraclare]

*sighs a bit* Okay. Guys. I have been asked this question a lot, and answered it a lot. I don't know how to give a better answer — Dru & Ty&Kit share significance as main characters — so I guess I'll talk a little about comparison and structures.

First, all series have different structures. I don't think it's super useful or predictive to try to map an upcoming, unknown book series onto an existing series. In TLH the main character was Cordelia, everyone else was secondary to her, and people's roles and the significance of them altered from book to book. It was a big ensemble cast and they mostly stayed put in London especially in book 1.

TWP focuses on a smaller group of people. It also has a very different structure. In book one, Dru is not with Kit and Ty. They are in different places, both of which have their own stories that are significant to the plot. There is no way to see Place One without following Dru. There is no way to see Place Two without following Kit and Ty.

I know that TWP is a long way off. I know there are people who are very angry with me that there's such a gap, but there isn't anything currently I can do about that, or about the fact that I don't yet have the schedule for my upcoming books. That rests in the hands of several different publishers who must coordinate the release times and production schedules for four different series. I am not withholding any information about when these books come out. I simply don't know it yet.

I understand that TWP being a long way off makes for anxiety, and that those who are worried Kit and Ty will somehow be secondary are looking for tiny clues in microscopic details — micro-reading the of placement of the word "and" in my newsletter and such — that are meaningless, but I get that it all comes from anxiety. (FTR, those worried Dru will be secondary are equally anxious.)

I think there is only so much I can say. Because there's a big gap between TLH and TWP everything I do say or every image or hint about it is freighted with a weight of assumption it can't really support. Anxiety is always going to trump reassurance. And truly, at the end of the day, if you only care about Kit and Ty and find the idea of a Dru story tiresome, you will feel like they got shafted because when you absolutely hate a plotline, you will always feel like it's taking up way too much space. That's just how our minds work.

I've been doing this long enough that I know no book can survive a hostile reading. I know that Book Three of a trilogy is the one people hate until they don't. (When Clockwork Princess came out people hated it so much I considered quitting writing!) I know that it's wonderful to love a character but can also be a problem for people when I put out books that aren't about that particular character or dynamic. I know that for a lot of people, Sword Catcher and Ragpicker King are just tiresome things that have no business on my schedule because they're not Shadowhunter books. And I get it. But I also have to block it out, because I've been writing a long time, and I've gotten to a point where I know that I have to write the thing I want to be writing, because if I don't, if I sit down and try to force myself to write something I'm not feeling like writing at that time, I'll be making myself physically and mentally sick. And that's no good for anyone, really.

I suppose the positive thing is that, while this would not have been true five years ago, I am at the place where I want very much to be writing Wicked Powers. I missed these characters and am glad to be back with them. I consider this a story in which there are three main characters. And that is all I can say right now because it's all that I know.

(And this was much more of a general response to a lot of things than a specific response to this question, but I did feel like it was stuff that I needed to say. Creators are at the end of the day, just people. Sometimes we are powerless to reassure. Sometimes we are tired. Sometimes we are wrong. Sometimes we try things and they don't work. Sometimes we can't explain to you what our story is going to make you feel, because only reading it is going to tell you that. This may be one of those times.)

[flightlessangelwings]

While we’re in Latino Heritage Month, let’s stop assuming your reader doesn’t know/speak Spanish in your reader insert fics. Especially if you’re writing for Pedro’s, Oscar’s or other Latino characters please.

EDIT: After some criticism of how this was originally phrased, let me change it into a question/request instead- Can we as writers please try to be more inclusive with our reader insert fics so poc and others can feel represented and see themselves too? Including taking out a quick throwaway line about reader not understanding Spanish. (Keeping the original phrasing above so anyone who missed the post to begin with can still see how I originally phrased it)

If you have a throwaway line of “he said in Spanish that you didn’t understand” or something similar, just take it out. Have something like “you didn’t hear” instead and let the reader interpret how they want. Or use italics to indicate Spanish. Or have the translation right there without mention of anyone translating for them. Simple. Or if you don’t want to/feel you cannot change it, then please have something in with your warnings so Latinos/poc can skip it if they choose.

And let me tell you why this is so frustrating (even for me as someone who is not a fluent speaker). It’s because Latinos look to these characters and actors for representation. We see ourselves in them. And when you clearly do not have a Latino person in mind when writing, you’re saying we don’t belong here. In a space where we should feel welcomed and celebrated. Representation matters. Inclusivity matters. Please try to be more inclusive with reader fics so we can all enjoy and immerse ourselves in your writing.

ALSO EDITING TO ADD MORE FROM A REBLOG SO EVERYONE CAN SEE MY CLARIFICATION: (under a cut for length)

This is nothing new, poc have been asking for years now to be inclusive in fics and yet it’s still a battle. We’re not asking for a lot, and certainly not asking anyone to change their style or creativity or anything like that. Literally simple edits: take out the word “blush” don’t mention hair, don’t mention not understanding Spanish, not making reader blood related to a white character, etc. Literally tiny things that would not change the story at all but make a world of difference.

Here’s an example too: a few years ago it was not common for writers to label the gender of their reader as it was usually assumed the reader would be a woman. But, people advocated to label readers as f/m/gn/whatever to be more inclusive and asked writers to strive for gender neutral readers when possible so that more readers felt seen and welcome. Now it’s a common thing to do. Why is making the readers race ambiguous any different?

Yes sometimes posts like this come across harsh, but know that they’re not meant to be. Poc aren’t trying to demand anything, we just ask to broaden your langauge when writing reader insert so more can see themselves in your work. It’s incredibly frustrating to ask for inclusivity and be met with hostility and rudeness in return and a refusal to think about poc so yes sometimes the wording gets harsh out of that frustration. But I encourage y’all to focus on the message more and maybe think about why poc in fandom get snippy like this. We do need to have an open conversation, yes. Just look in the comments at the Latinos and poc who are upset by the exclusion and feel hurt by it. How you you white fans feel if roles were reversed and none of the fics included you? Not fun, right?

And to those who say write it yourself: I do. I’ve been a x reader writer for years now and I do strive for inclusivity in my work. But I’m only one person and this is bigger than any one person. This isn’t about what I personally find acceptable or what I personally what. It should be a collective effort among writers as a whole to strive to include as many as possible in their works and not white code your readers. It’s not about demanding writers write it a certain way, it’s about asking writers to consider others who don’t look like them who also want the immersion and the escape that your fic brings.

[pumpkin-piiee]

I've seen people making up different story arcs on what will happen after the Noroshi War so here's mine.

*Manga spoilers ahead*

Maybe in the future, Nii Satoru-sensei might create a story arc about a sukeban*.

*A sukeban is a delinquent girl gang that emerged in Japan from the 1960s to 1970s.

History

Credits: yaz1ska on Instagram

Sukebans were formed due to bōsōzoku a.k.a. male biker gangs or the yakuza not accepting female members. The rise of sukebans has a huge impact on the feminist movement in Japan. Each gang has their own rules, hierarchy, and ways of punishment. E.g. Cigarette burns were considered a minor punishment if a gang member was disrespecting a senior member or stealing a boyfriend.

My thoughts if it were to come true

If the author included a story arc about a girl gang, I would have faith in him. I mean look at how well-written & well-designed the ladies in wind breaker are.

Credits: Pinterest

Credits: Mangapill

*I love how the author would draw sketches of Kotoha with major characters such as Tsubakino and Sakura. This means that Kotoha is more important than we have initially thought. Moreover, kudos to Nii Satoru-sensei for not sexualising Kotoha. I am sick and tired of mangakas sexualising female characters for no reason.*

Credits: Nii Satoru on X

Not to mention many of us know that Nii Satoru-sensei is good at writing complex characters such as Tsubakino.

Credits: MyFigureCollection

Story Arc, Characters & Operation

As for how this story arc will be executed, I believe it will cover topics such as feminism, struggles of womanhood and mistreatment of women.

Moving on to how this sukeban operates, here's my input. I believe everything they do is the complete opposite of Bofurin. E.g. instead of protecting their own town, they protect themselves. This is because the town they live in is also the complete opposite of Makochi, hostile and narrow-minded.

*I just thought of making this sukeban the complete opposite of Bofurin because I think it's interesting to see their reactions. It's also hilarious because the opposite of a boy gang is a girl gang. Get it? Okay, I'll stop.*

I also believe maybe this sukeban and its base can act as a sanctuary for women of its town who were mistreated by men such as giving them food, shelter etc.

I believe the overall vibe that they give is going to be like the military instead of high school.

As for their leader, maybe she'll be the opposite of Umemiya, stoic and serious. However, it is interesting if she was a good leader like Umemiya because so far we've only seen bad leaders in Wind Breaker.

As for their gang name, maybe it will be associated with elements such as water or space. This is because the other gangs e.g. Bofurin 防風鈴 is named after the wind element, Noroshi 狼煙 is named after the fire element, Gravel and Shishitoren 獅子頭連 are named after the earth element along with KEEL is named after or related to the metal element.

*I know that Shishitoren are named after animals but animals are also related to Earth sooo*

Final Thoughts

Overall, this is just a random thought of mine that I just want to share. If Nii Satoru-sensei doesn't include a story arc that talks about girl gangs, I won't be disappointed or upset as long as he writes a good story.

*P.S.. this is my first time ranting about an anime so feel free to critique or educate me if I've made a mistake. Also, I still have some opinions regarding this sukeban idea so should I create a part 2?*

[imalwaysaslutforthevoid]

The Summer Hikaru Died and onomatopoeia

I've wanted to gush about this topic for a while and i have no organized thoughts but a lot of feelings i need to get out. First and foremost being "Holy shit this manga is so damn loud" which is a weird feeling to have since manga is generally understood to be a silent medium.

And yet the Mangaka MokuMoku Ren has filled their work to the brim with sound. Now comics using onomatopoeia (words that echo a noise ie: crunch) is nothing new the sound of a fist hitting it's target and walls being wrecked is nothing new. But usually onomatopoeia is worked into whatever action is resulting in the noise

adding both a sense of motion as well as sound. Which is what makes The Summer Hikaru Died's use of it so unique and compelling. To utilize onomatopoiea you have to give up on space that could otherwise be going to deatil work in the background or foreground. Now this is fine with smaller unobtrusive effects like Wolverine's claw extending, and there's numerous example's where a sound will take up large portions of the page to show how loud something like a bomb going off is. But i've yet to see another comic western or otherwise so consistently use this facet of the medium to instill such claustrophobia and dread. As a slower paced horror manga The Summer Hikaru Died builds it's suspense mostly through atomosphere, the supernatural happenings weighing on the surrounding evironment until they break the surface

The use of sound is heavy, it's harsh, it's a vehicle to show how wrong things have gotten from the whisper of "it's coming" heard in the ringing bell of a train crossing to the omnipresent call of birds, bugs, and frogs that pushes in on the paneling shrinking the world with their cacophony.

the way sound shrinks the world making reader and character both feel suffocated by the drone is matched by how the manga uses silence as a way to make the characters feel exposed and vulnerable. the page is now empty of distraction the world of the story on full display and it still feels wrong it's agorophobic, at least amidst the din there was some sense of anonymity being just one voice among hundrends.

even the speech bubble feels out of place as it wanders off desperate to fill the space. The manga is full of these moments of sound and silence in some dance with eachother always too much or too little, never comfortable. It adds a lot to the horror of the manga, and is just one part of many that makes The Summer Hikaru Died such an excellent manga, every chapter I can feel my skin crawl as the setting becomes more hostile to the charactres while they uncover more of the truth of their circumstances.

[jeeaark]

in a timeline where the illithid invasion never happen, a world where the absolute never existed, what would greygold's life be like? or maybe even lae'zel's? a world where they stumble upon each other without all the destruction around them.

The funny thing is.

Without squids trying to ruin their life, Greygold would have never discovered the power of friendship

Worse even, they'd still be a dispassionate lone ranger with questionable bird ethics surviving the wilderness and living off raw eggs like a weirdo.

Meanwhile, Lae'zel is still a Vlaakith devotee and if they stumble upon each other without a plot to drive them to work together and get to know each other... Bad things would happen! Someone would probably die. Most likely Greygold. But! Lets say. A plot did happen.

Buckle up buckaroos. This train thought went off the rails enough that I had to draw pics. Faster than writing out a 13k+ fic (for me anyway).

Let's say Greygold got the 'steal the githyanki egg ' job from Esther. Let's say they succeeded in sneaking in and out without too much of a fuss (mostly involving cat familiar distractions). And something Unfortunate happens before Greygold could complete the quest, leaving Greygold with an egg that eventually hatches:

And the githyanki child is not your average run-of-the-mill space lad either (Who loves eating raw eggs now too. It's fine. Builds character. Probably) But uh yeah, that whoosh accidentally cosmos-signaled all the githyankis and Vlaakith to which she reacts with a 'Wtf? Did anybody just get Prince of the Comet vibes from that? With a "I love egg" aftertaste? No? Just me? Hrm.... I do currently have a lot of free time on my hands....Fetch me that child. I want to study him like a bug. I'm suddenly feeling... Creatively ambitious with a side case of nefarious today. Might bury an old big secret if that kid is replacement-viable.' Thus search patrols investigate-

And never return.

After the first surprise patrol disaster, Greygold has been putting their danger ranger skills to good use via setting up counter-ambushes for all the constant surprise attacks. Classic "who is hunting who?" ordeal.

Nonetheless, there is more of them than there is of Greygold, so they resort to hiding in the Underdark after realizing the githyankis don't have dark vision and it's more environmentally dangerous than the surface. It is also a fun learning experience for the kid. Search patrols continue to never return. Until-

Lae'zel can't help but notice her mission orders do not add up and her rationality has a mighty need to make sense of it before solving problems with immediate hostility. Meanwhile this has been Greygold's first super tiny dose of kindness involving people interactions in years. Instant crush. Chase Shenanigans Ensue. Until child makes their first hunting trap. Instead of catching food, Lae'zel is captured. It also turns out the over-the-top trap involves sinking sand and a nest of Ankhegs (giant burrowing man-eating bugs). Greygold tries to help Lae'zel. For Reasons.

Something akin to mutual respect is formed. Stuck working together. Get to know each other. Discuss contradictions with mission. Verdigris worms his way into Lae'zel's heart (as much as she loathes his name). Escape the Ankheg nest which had terribly escalated because a giant fire ant invasion decided to overrun the ankheg nest at the same time.

Everyone is covered in bug guts after this.

Something something bond over experience enough to trust and listen to each other's opinions. Short Rest. Negotiate. Discuss plans to investigate Da Truth together. Shenanigans Ensue. Then Bad Shenanigans Ensue. Argument Ensues, resulting in Lae'zel Splitting Off. Verdigris disagrees with this approach and chases Lae'zel in order to bring back. Unanticipated Ambush happens at most inopportune moment. Greygold is Captured.

But they escape. Not before confronting Vlaakith's projection and discovering her plans and secrets thanks to one extremely curious Verdigrisgold (Verdi for short omg so long) with ridiculous super psionic powers.

And then they coincidentally interwovenly meet/save/recruit their bg3 companions anyway because there are no mindflayer abduction to stall certain ill-fated situations from happening to certain Companions-to-be and I need for them to be OKAY. So. Greygold discovers the power of friendship again. But is also now co-parenting a fate-of-the-githyanki-freedom child with Ex-Vlaakith-devotee Lae'zel. How's that for an AU timeline?

[eclecticmiasma]

Yandere DunMeshi MBTI: Laios Touden

No one in the world requested this, I just think this man needs to be studied under a microscope and I can't quit rolling him around in my brain. Headcanons based on the Yandere MBTI indicator conceptualized by the lovely ddarker-dreams! Please send them love and feel free to request me for any characters. [Warnings: general yandere scariness]

CRUEL Vs. REVERENT Darling captures Laios's attention primarily because they are kind. They smile at his stories even if he's told them a hundred times before, they ask him questions about monsters and don't shy away when he pulls out a tome's worth of notes detailing each one. Darling always has a terrible look on their face when Laios is injured and has never once made him feel less than. To Laios, darling is the sun.

If darling is part of his party, they can expect to be doted on, fussed over, and guarded to a point where the only time they are truly alone is when bathing. Even then, Chilchuck has to constantly assure Laios that darling is absolutely fine, much to his chagrin. If they are injured or die, Laios almost becomes a different person for hours after they're revived. He's anxious, snappy, even hostile until darling can bring him back down with their calm nature.

If darling isn't in the party, they can still expect to see Laios nearly all of the time. Sometimes it doesn't quite make sense how Laios can go on so many trips to the dungeon and yet still have time to consistently be in darling's personal space on the surface. Darling can expect to receive souvenirs from the dungeon (mostly monster parts, always frightening) and letters about adventures that Laios will simply tell them again in person anyway. He'll insist on walking them home and greeting them in the morning before he leaves to the dungeons again.

AWARE VS. DELUSIONAL

All Laios knows is that the emotion he feels when the object of his affection is around seems measurably different than his love for his sister or love for his friends. Truth be told, there has always been a nagging worry at the back of his mind that he might never be able to feel for a human the way he loves adventuring or studying monsters. That he's doomed to a life of solitude surrounded by nothing that understands him. When darling comes along, they're like a beacon of light that tells Laios he's capable of being normal for once. After all, he finally feels the kind of love he's been lectured time and time again that he should be feeling at his age. A chivalrous need to protect, to treasure, to study and bring gifts and share meals and troubles and maybe, just maybe even taste and touch and devour- It's just what loving someone means.

MANIPULATIVE VS. HONEST

There is no need to manipulate darling because Laios himself doesn't feel that any of his behavior is wrong. He doesn't know how to be anything but himself, and any hint darling or others try to give him that maybe his interactions are bordering on unhealthy and obsessive don't reach him at all. If darling says they'd better get going, Laios is there to walk them home. If Marcille tries to tell Laios that darling is perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, he marvels at how talented darling is and then does nothing to change his behavior. If Namari outright tells him that he needs to give darling space, he'll nod seriously and then decide that sitting across from darling and not next to darling is sufficient. In Laios's mind, everything is perfect.

STRICT VS. LENIENT

As long as darling is safe, or what Laios deems to be safe, everything is fine. Darling can do what they want on the surface, talk to whom they want on the surface, go dungeoneering if darling is part of the party. Problems begin to arise when that sense of security wanes. The look of that gnome chatting with darling isn't one that Laios likes. As a tall-man, it's very easy to keep him from speaking to darling ever again. Darling wants to go on a trip to Kahka Brud, Laios is quick to insist that he come along. After a particularly nasty event in the dungeon, Laios might make it his mission that darling never venture beneath the surface again. Laios is harmless until threatened- that's when his brand of love becomes suffocation.

*do not post elsewhere without explicit permission. please consider reblogging, as Tumblr tends to hide darker content!

[RULES] [MASTERLISTS] [AO3] [KO-FI]

[221bshrlocked]

Broken and Grazed, Loved and Saved

Pairing: Crosshair x Jedi AFAB!Reader

Words: 4724

Warnings: Mutual Pining. Mentions of violence and blood. Touching Confessions! Angst to fluff because you know it. Crosshair being a tiny bit soft...just a tiny bit.

Summary: You get shot while trying to save Crosshair. He's shocked and confused as to why you would do such a thing. You both slowly reveal your feelings for each other as he patches you up.

A/N: I crawled back from my writer's block hell hole to post this. This is during The Clone Wars series folks, hence the Jedi insert. Once again, thank you so much to @cloneficgiftexchange for holding this event and single-handedly getting me to write every once in a while. This is for the lovely @arctrooper69 who inadvertently gave me a challenge with Crosshair. I hope you enjoy it babes and I hope I got his character down correctly. This is the first time I write for him. As always, let me know how I am doing in the comments please and thank you.

When Obi-Wan informed you that you’d be accompanying Clone Force 99 on another mission, you tried your best to not let your excitement come through. But one look at your old friend and the smirk on his face made you realize you may not have been as subtle as you originally thought. 

“Shut it Kenobi,” you walk past him, shaking your head when you briefly glanced to the side and saw him raising an eyebrow at you. He chuckles at your embarrassment, and you’re torn between making fun of him and letting him be. It was rare to see him display such an elated emotion, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him when finally caught up with you and patted you on the back. 

“In all seriousness, do be careful out there.” A worried expression breaks through the smile and you nod at him, knowing that the sentiment wasn’t one of warning but deep concern for your safety. 

“As weird as it is to admit this, I feel like I might potentially be safest with them.” You come to a stop once you reach the door of the Temple, looking around the awfully quiet space before returning your attention to Obi-Wan once more. 

“I would have to disagree with you there. The rate at which they use explosives is severely higher than any other force I have fought alongside. Nevertheless, I trust your judgment. Do keep me updated, yes?” When you don’t respond right away, Obi-Wan follows your line of sight and notices where your attention suddenly lies. He groans to himself and wishes he wasn’t the keeper of so many secrets. 

“Young one!?” You snap out of your momentary haze when Obi-Wan quite literally yells at you, his voice carrying across the grounds and catching the curiosity of none other than the man you found yourself barely able to stop thinking of. 

“Sorry, yes?” You feign ignorance, giggling like a young padawan when Obi-Wan rubs his temples and swears beneath his breath.

“I’m only joking. Yes I will be careful, sure I’ll try my best not to get into trouble, and of course I won’t partake in Wrecker’s booming tactics. Satisfied?” You don’t wait for him to respond, already walking towards the Marauder and praying to the Force that the introvert of the group is less hostile towards you this time around. When you grow near to the clones standing at the foot of the ramp, you turn around one last time and wave goodbye to Obi-Wan, laughing when he rolls his eyes at you and heads back into the Temple. As soon as you turn around, you’re met with an incredibly energetic Wrecker, your shock turning into hysterical laughter as soon as he wraps his arms around you and picks you up. 

“Heyyy, it’s our favorite Jedi!” His grip on you remains gentle even though he’s lifted you off of the ground a good bit. 

“Hey Wrecker, I see you missed me as much as I missed you.” You gently tap him on his shoulder, hoping he’d put you down before any other Jedi sees how familiar you are with him. 

“Wreck, put the General down.” You glance to the side and see Hunter standing with his hands on his hips, his facial expression a bit unreadable. You laugh nervously at the leader of the Bad Batch, hoping Wrecker wouldn’t get in trouble because of your friendliness. 

To his chagrin, Wrecker puts you down and backs away, whispering a few apologies before returning to stand next to Tech.

“Sorry, I know I shouldn’t encourage it.” You tell Hunter as the two of you walk away from the rest of the Batch, your eyes unintentionally remaining on your favorite member of the group. If Hunter notices how you pay more attention to Crosshair, he says nothing of it and pretends you weren’t watching him like a hawk. 

“No need for any apologies, General. I don’t particularly care but I know how things are on Coruscant. Wouldn’t want him to be misunderstood.” Hunter points towards the Clones standing around the Temple with other Jedi Masters, smiling nervously at you when you sigh anxiously at the prospect of being the reason behind Wrecker potentially getting in trouble. 

“I promise to talk to him. And I’ll make sure to only be friendly when we’re not surrounded by…you know.” You try to laugh off the circumstances you find yourself in, only for Hunter’s body language to shift at the implications behind your words. 

“I’d be careful if I were you. Even if they aren’t around, others tend to misunderstand and- well, let’s just say that things get a little heated when we finish a mission and you aren’t on-board anymore.” You furrow your eyebrows at Hunter’s response, only to follow his line of sight and see who he’s staring at. When you’re met with Crosshair’s narrowed, irritated eyes shifting between you and Wrecker, you realize that Hunter may know more than he let on. 

“I- I don’t think you-” You trip over your words, unsure of how to respond now that Hunter knew of your inclinations as well. 

“Save it, I’m not judging…just giving you a heads up.” He excuses himself, saying something or other to Tech as the two of them ascend the Marauder. You look to the ground as you make your way to the ship, afraid of making eye contact with any of the others out of fear of making things more awkward. Even as you walk past Crosshair, you ignore him completely, pretending to fix the lightsaber hanging from your belt so you don’t have to deal with him now. As soon as you go to the cockpit, you throw a quick hello to Echo and walk back, pushing through the supplies scattered around so you can sit in the small space at the end of the ship. 

Even though you want to sit near Crosshair, you decide against it, knowing that you don’t have the capacity to deal with his passive aggressive comments now. You haven’t seen him in a long while, and there’s nothing you wish to do more than be near him, even if the two of you were to remain silent. But if the conversation with Hunter proved anything, it’s the fact that Crosshair was begging to pick a fight right now. You just didn’t want it to be with you. 

Taking a deep breath, you do your best to center yourself and ignore the whispers and murmurs traveling from the cockpit. You manage a fair job for most of the flight, but the closer you get to the Outer Rim planet, you vaguely hear your name thrown around between Hunter, Tech and Wrecker. You know better than to listen to what they’re saying, and before you can decide on whether or not you should ignore them, Wrecker stands up and grumbles something louder than the others would have preferred. 

“She doesn’t mind! You’re just telling me what to do because Crosshair won’t listen to you and talk to her.” Your eyes shoot wide open at his words, and as you turn around to face them, you see all of their expressions turn blank. Wrecker only recognizes just how loud he is when he faces you and sees a quizzical look on your features. He chuckles nervously and sits down as Echo makes his way towards you. 

“Sorry about that, we know how much you like to meditate.” He sits down beside you, glaring quickly at Wrecker so he doesn’t accidentally give anything else away. 

“It’s okay, it’s not like I was getting much meditation done anyway. You guys whisper pretty loudly.” 

“You mean you- could you hear us this whole time?” Echo asks, the direct gaze you offer him letting him know that yes, you could certainly hear what they were going on about this whole time. 

“You know then.” It was more of a comment than a question, but you shrug your shoulders at him regardless, unsure of whether they were telling the truth or just reading into the interactions between you and Crosshair. Before you can respond however, you feel the ship drop out of hyperspace and into the atmosphere of the planet.

“Another time Echo,” you ignore the pleading look on Echo’s face, not wanting to continue this conversation now that the mission officially commenced. Making your way to the front of the ship, you look across the yellow planet below you and sigh in irritation when you notice the storms forming just above the surface. 

“Did you know that Eshil is one of three desert planets that receives frequent rain? Rain storms are often violent here, delivering up to seven millimeters per minute. It is more likely for one to drown down there than to die of thirst.” The ease with which Tech spoke made you giggle, and you couldn’t help but thank him politely for the unsolicited knowledge when you saw Wrecker and Echo glare at him worryingly. 

“Don’t worry big guy, nothing will happen to you on my watch.” You pat Wrecker on the back as you begin your descent onto Eshil, and before you can attempt to calm him down a little, the Marauder begins to shake violently due to the rain and thunderstorms. In a moment of distraction, you lose your balance and fly backward, suddenly feeling a pair of slim fingers grab onto your waist to prevent you from falling. Thinking it’s Hunter who just saved you, you turn around to thank him, only to find a pair of steel, hazel eyes staring dead at you. 

The faint gasp doesn’t go unnoticed by Crosshair, nor does the disappointed look you throw at him when he lets go so he can push you into one of the seats. 

“Don’t hurt yourself, Jedi.” His tone is mocking in a way, but you don’t dwell too much on it and instead look around to see if anyone noticed the little interaction. Everyone is blissfully unaware of the tense moment you shared with Crosshair, and even though you can feel his eyes on you, you choose to avoid his gaze, afraid he would see how much of an effect he has on you. 

It takes too long to your liking to land, not because you didn’t like the turbulence, but because you couldn’t stand being in close proximity with Crosshair any longer. An hour ago, you were excited to join the team, wanting nothing more than to try and get closer to Crosshair, or at the very least, figure out why he’s always more passive aggressive with you than with anyone else. But after the not-so-subtle comment from Hunter, and the rather awkward conversation you overheard, you couldn’t finish this mission and be back on Coruscant fast enough. Somehow, knowing that the animosity was a product of mutual feelings made things worse.

No, not worse. That wasn’t the right word. 

Real. It made things real. It made things more accessible, which meant that the probability of anything happening was simultaneously high and low. 

“We’re here,” Hunter’s announcement is a welcomed distraction, and you wait until everyone stands aside to review the plan before jumping out of the Marauder. The rain comes down harsher than you’ve anticipated but you take a few seconds to appreciate it regardless, knowing that it wasn’t everyday you experienced rain caused by clean, natural clouds. It was so much different than Coruscant, strangely soothing as it seeped through your clothes and kissed your cheeks. 

The cool sensation suddenly shifts into a warmer breeze, causing your eye muscles to clench tightly in confusion. The feeling engulfs you almost like a hug, and you’re not sure how or why it becomes hotter with each passing second. It’s only when you open your eyes and glance to the side that you finally understand why you were being flooded with such intensity. You quickly avert your gaze as soon as you notice Crosshair’s embarrassment when he realizes that you’ve caught him staring at you. 

“Alright fellas, listen up. Our mission is simple: infiltrate the base undetected, retrieve the classified intel from their innermost vaults, exfiltrate before they even know we’re there. Stay sharp and Wrecker…no explosives unless I say so.” Hunter points firmly at the bigger clone, and you almost giggle when you see the hint of a grin appearing on his face. 

“Awww man!” Wrecker throws his hands up in the air, walking away and crossing his arms when he sees you approaching him. 

“Don’t worry big guy, there’s always a next time.” You pat him on the back, laughing to yourself when he retorts at you like a child.

“That’s what you said last time.”

“But I really mean it this time,” you twist your head down until you can get a better look at him, and when you meet his eyes, you watch as he tries his best to not crack a smile in return. When he does, you walk past him and stay behind Hunter as he slowly moves through the barren land. The closer you get to the compound though, the more you become uneasy at your lack of cover, but before you can say anything, the rain begins to come down harder than you thought it possible, making you squint to try and see where everyone is. 

“I guess that should do the trick!” You hear Echo scream from behind you, but the sentiment makes you uncomfortable. The idea of losing the rest of them before you even make it to the enemy line is disconcerting, and you make your way towards Hunter quickly. When he sees you approaching him, he stops and waits for you to catch up. 

“Follow my lead and make sure everyone keeps their helmets on so they can see.” You throw the hood of your cloak over your head a little further, the action not helping one bit as the water continues to crash down on you like a waterfall. 

“When we get there-” 

“I’ll signal for Echo so he can unlock the doors.” Waiting until he nods in agreement, you continue your journey towards the compound, praying to the maker that the enemy’s visibility is as bad as yours. The trek to the compound takes longer than you like, but when you finally have it in sight, you turn around and wait for the others to reach you. Hunter and Tech are ahead of everyone, and you squint hard until you can see Echo and Wrecker behind them. When Crosshair doesn’t show right away, you begin to worry, afraid that the rain became less of an inconvenience and more of a trigger to him. You’re about to run past the guys when you finally see him walking through the heavy downfall, no longer holding his firearm in his hands and instead taking his time as he walks towards the rest of the team. Even though you can’t see his expression, you know for a fact that Hunter is smirking beneath his mask, and you choose to ignore him as you go back to the front of the Batch and walk closer to the compound.

“There aren’t any guards posted outside. The storm must have sent everyone back inside.” You make a note, signaling for Echo to move ahead of you while the others wait a little farther away in case things don’t go according to plan. Anxiety washes over you all of a sudden, and you glance at the only member of the Batch you know dislikes the rain more than anyone. If Crosshair notices the way you’re staring at him worryingly, he says nothing and keeps his attention on your surroundings, ready to fire at anyone who comes in the way. 

When Echo unlocks the door, Tech follows after and heads straight towards the secured vaults at the heart of the compound. It’s quieter than you expect, but you figure it’s only because the storm continues to rage outside and grow louder by the second. As you move towards the vault however, you find the silence nearly deafening, and you wonder briefly if this entire mission could be a set-up. Before you can voice your concerns to Hunter, Tech gains access to the room with ease, already getting to work for the intel with Echo. You stand guard outside while Hunter and Wrecker scout the hallways and ensure you don’t have any visitors. 

Using the distraction to your advantage, you slowly make your way to Crosshair and stand beside him, waiting until he acknowledges your presence with a glance before attempting to break the awkward air around the two of you. 

“I hope the rain isn’t too much of a bother.” You’re not sure what else to say, and as you realize he won’t be responding any time soon, you figure it’s best to not try and fix whatever it is between the two of you now. Knowing that it will be even more uncomfortable if you walk away from him, you remain standing where you are, turning your attention to Tech and Echo to see if they’re almost done. 

The abrupt sound of guns firing pushes you forward immediately, and you watch as several weapons descend from the ceiling and the walls, instantly firing at everyone in the room. You make your way to the nearest wall and burn through the small firearms with your lightsaber, watching as Crosshair hits several more on the opposite side of the wall while Tech and Echo extract the intel. 

“I knew it was too quiet.” You mutter to yourself, running as fast as you can across the space to get as many of the little suckers as possible. When there aren’t any left, you sheath your weapon again and move towards the door. 

“Time to head out,” Hunter screams across the hallway and as you file out, you sense movement at one of the corners of the room. It’s instinctive the way you run towards Crosshair and shield him with your body, and your curse at yourself for not ensuring that all of them were taken down. Anger seeps through your mind at what could have been a fatal mistake and you ignite your saber instantly, propelling it towards the small object and bringing it back into the palm of your hand as more smoke fills the room. 

“We need to leave, now.” Your voice is stern, and even though you can see Crosshair staring at where you’ve just been shot, you don’t pay him any mind as you run through the winding hallways and make your way out of the compound. It’s somehow raining even harder than earlier, and you feel your body grow more faint with each step you take. The faster you try to run, the more unbearable the pain becomes, and it occurs to you that you would be no good to any of them if you slowed them down. 

You come to a stop and haunch over, applying pressure against your stomach and wincing in pain when more blood oozes through your fingers. Thinking that they’re all ahead of you, you kneel down and allow the rain to become less of an inconvenience and more of a calming presence. 

“What are you doing?” Crosshair hisses as he comes up behind you, and when you lock contact with his eyes, you regret not pushing yourself harder. 

“I’m fine…go!” You hope your voice isn’t as wavering to his ears as it is to your own, and when he shakes his head, you attempt to stand to confront him, only to fall back to the ground again. 

“Tech, bring the ship to my position.” You cruse yet again as Crosshair pushes a button on the side of his helmet while speaking to Tech. 

“Why have you stopped?” You can hear Hunter ask through the comms, and you look at Crosshair again, silently begging him to leave so he doesn’t get hurt. 

“The General’s been compromised.” He leans down and pushes your hands aside to inspect the wound, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think that he was angry at you for getting shot…for saving him. 

“You need to go to the Marauder. That’s an order.” You hiss in pain when you feel him bring your hand back to your stomach and push on it harder than before. 

“You’re currently bleeding all over the floor. You’re in no shape to give me orders…General.” He’s pushing your buttons, but unlike before, when he smirked at every snarky comment he threw your way and chuckled when you retorted in likeness, his voice is laced with unspoken feelings now, as if he was silently thanking you for what you did for him. 

Before you can dwell too much on the change in his behavior, the Marauder lands right beside you, allowing you a moment of respite before Wrecker comes down the ramp and takes you in his arms. The jolting movements make you cough as your stomach throbs in pain, and you take one last look at Crosshair, finding his expression as irritated as when you were on your way here. 

To his credit, Wrecker does try to be more slow and soft with his movements, but when he lays you down, you can’t help but scream in agony at the wound tearing through your skin. 

“S-sorry.” You shake your head at Wrecker and assure him with a smile, only to drop it when Tech comes with a medkit and asks his brother to give you some privacy. 

“I do apologize General but I must cut your robe to administer the bacta spray and patches properly.” Ever the gentleman, Tech waits for your consent before taking out a pair of scissors. He’s about to cut through your robes when Crosshair walks in and stands behind him.

“If you can wait out-”

“I’ll do it.” Crosshair doesn’t give Tech a chance to finish his request, and when he stands up to argue with him, you reach for Tech’s hand and nod at him, waiting until he places everything down before moving towards the front of the ship. 

You’re sure Crosshair didn’t think this far ahead because he remains standing and doesn’t once turn his sight away from your wound. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You break the silence and push your head back as the wound continues to burn. It must be all Crosshair needs to hear because he gets right to business, not once saying anything to you as he rips through your robes and begins to disinfect the flesh around the gash. You hiss and instantly slam your hand against his thigh, digging your nails into the plastoid covering him as he sterilizes the laceration to prevent any infection. 

“What were you thinking?” It’s the first time he’s ever spoken to you so softly, and you figure it’s because you’re hurt and can’t respond in likeness. But when you open your eyes and look at him, you’re shocked to find worry and fear swimming in his hazel brown orbs. It throws you off a little, and you shake the thoughts aside, knowing that you may just be reading too much into his behavior.

“At the time, I thought it was a great idea!” You chuckle only to curse out loud when he begins to apply the bacta spray on top of the wound. You think he’ll smile at catching you off guard, but when you look at him again, he’s as somber as a few seconds ago.

“And now?” Crosshair growls at you, actually growls, the sound coming as a shock to you. It occurs to you that maybe, just maybe, he was attempting to show you that he cares, but wasn’t sure how to go about it. When he stops what he’s doing and continues to keep his gaze on you, you lay your head back down and allow the subsiding pain to calm you a little. 

“Maybe…maybe not so much.” He narrows his eyes at you then, the expression becoming a little too intense for you and making you turn away to face the wall. Not another word is exchanged between you and him, and as he finally places the bacta patches on your stomach, you turn to face him again, no longer able to keep playing whatever game he started. 

“Thank you, for not leaving…for staying with me.” Crosshair continues to remain silent, his focus completely on the wound he was dressing. 

“And thank you for patching me up.” Again, he doesn’t acknowledge any of your words, waiting until he’s sure the wound is perfectly protected before throwing everything back into the medkit. You think he’s about to leave but when he finally looks up, you notice his eyebrows relax as he lets out a deep breath. 

“Why would you do that?”

The question catches you off guard, and you figure you may as well tell him how you feel because you’re not sure what will happen tomorrow. 

“You know why.” The simple whisper holds a thousand confessions, and Crosshair clenches his jaw tightly as he reaches for your hand. You gasp at the warmth of his skin, and swallow the lump in your throat when he grabs a wet towel and begins to clean the dried blood. You’re not sure how long you hold your breath, but when he’s done, he doesn’t let go. In fact, he does the opposite, bringing both of his rough palms around your own and keeping it as close to him as possible. 

“I- I’m not worth your-” The sentiment breaks your heart and you furrow your eyebrows at him as you attempt to sit up, not wanting him to finish whatever he was about to say. The stinging returns a thousandfold but you ignore the shooting pain and pull Crosshair towards you.

“Don’t ever say that.” You want to say more. You want to tell him that you’d gladly do it again to ensure his safety, that you wouldn’t give it a second thought because you care for him more than you’re allowed, more than he’ll ever know. But the way he looks at you makes it difficult to say anything else, and you lay back down again when your muscles beg you for some respite. Crosshair doesn’t let go of your hand. If anything, his hold on you tightens as he moves to sit closer to you. 

“It was annoying.” Whatever you thought he was going to say is certainly not those three words, and the confusion etched on your face makes him crack a smile before finally looking from your hand to you. 

“The rain.” You look at him for what feels like hours before you finally register what he was trying to tell you. 

“Wow, it took me getting shot at for you to finally answer my question…an hour later?” The joke doesn’t sit too well with him and you apologize quickly, afraid he’d get up and leave you all alone. 

“I- I didn’t think you’d…” The words die in his throat, and you look down at where your hands are intertwined, wanting to give him some privacy as he comes to terms with what he was feeling, what he was oversharing with you. 

“Remember?” You finish for him, smiling when he nods quietly and begins to trace the lines across the back of your hand.

“I remember everything you tell me, Crosshair.” Once again, the simple response is laced with too many revelations to your liking, but you know you’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t use this moment to show him how much you care. 

How much you love him.

He looks at you then, about to say something when he sees your face twist at the returning stinging sensations. 

“You need to rest.” His voice is firm, making you wish you weren’t hurt and could actually make whatever this is last longer. 

“Will you be here when I wake up?” Before, you would have been annoyed with yourself for being so vulnerable in front of him, but the question must be the one thing he needed to hear because he smiles softly at you before nodding in silence, bringing his chair a little closer to you can rest your arm better as you keep holding his hands.

“Sleep, cyare. I’ll protect you.”

[animehideout]

Your MBTI, Your Relationship With JJK Characters Part 2.

Read part 1

part 3

part 4

a/n: Currently working on the other requested mbti types, they'll be included in the coming parts ✨.

Thank you @goofbye @wakatsukikanae @zoldyi for requesting INFP, and @lostmymarblesstuff for requesting ISTP. I really really hope you like them though. 😭🫶🏻💖.

INFP:

Choso Kamo = Fiancé

Both of you find solace in each other's arms, you don't need to vocalize your love since your energy alone is capable of conveying the love, admiration and respect you have for each other. He appreciates the idea of becoming a family and building a home together filled with familial warmth. He's also a good listener whenever you vent. You accept each other for who you truly are without faking anything. You are both authentic and genuine. You show your love through acts of service, so he enjoys cooking your cravings for you.

Toji Fushiguro = Enemy

You have no respect for people who lack empathy or compassion, and Toji is one of them. He's vile, hostile and manipulative. He is the complete opposite of you. You have a strong sense of justice, fairness and sensitivity so Toji's actions trigger a strong negative reaction out of you. He is a threat to your values and peace, so you can't help but develop an enmity. He sees you weak for including your emotions so he always tries to change you into his liking or simply provoke you.

Toge Inumaki = Bestfriend

Most of your Hangouts are at home where you sit comfortably enjoying the peaceful quietness. You understand each other's emotions and troubles. He provides a safe space for you to express yourself, he takes your feelings into account and never judges you. He enjoys sitting comfortably while you talk about your dreams and thoughts. You inspire him a lot and he appreciates that you trust him enough to share personal things with him. He makes you feel that it's okay to be different as long as you are true to yourself.

Megumi Fushiguro = roommate.

You respect each other's personal space and that what made you good roommates, living under the same roof peacefully without any obstacles. At first you found difficulty to get into conversations or just hang out together at home; given that both of you are introverts. So you just limited yourself to small chats, but you grew to enjoy each other's presence and chill together. Both of you share similar standards for cleanliness so you divide tasks to keep your shared space tidy. Despite growing closer and more comfortable, the boundaries that both of you had set are still sacred. It is easy to live with Megumi.

ISTP

Toji Fushiguro= Husband.

The powerful duo, a thrill-seekers. Toji is the perfect match for you. You have mutual qualities such as using the power of mind, pursuing financial success and enjoying the spontaneous adventures. You have a healthy marriage life, following a pragmatic and rational approach. He is attracted to your determination and mindset, even after being married for too long he still looks at you with the same admiration and love he has for you since the first time he had laid eyes on you. Flirts a lot with you and drowns you in compliments. Your honeymoon was a thrilling and exciting experience literally risking your lives but you enjoyed every bit of it. You are attracted to his straightforwardness and cleverness also to his teasing and playful side. At some levels he doesn't take life too seriously but instead he faces it with humor and mockery. He is the perfect husband for you.

Yuta Okkotsu = Has a crush on you.

He would find himself uncontrollably attracted and drawn to you. The way you reasonably handle things, issues and conflicts impresses him. He also admires your independence and self-sufficiency, you are mentally strong and intelligent. And despite being introvert and reserved he would be surprised by how quick you can adapt to different situations and how you enjoy the thrill of new experiences and adventures. It leaves him blown away and intrigued by you and without hesitation he would develop a powerful crush.

Nanami Kento = Colleague.

You equally share a mutual respect for each other's skills. Both of you hate working overtime so most of the time you blend your competences to get done early with the work. You have a formal and professional kind of relationship which is task-oriented. Your emotions are put aside while working together. What matters is that you succeed in reaching your goals or solve problems. You are an effective team and can work in harmony.

Maki Zenin = Bestfriend.

You feel comfortable enough around Maki to enjoy engaging with various activities with her. Most of the time you train together. Maki has a strategic planning so she always comes up with interesting plans for both of you to enjoy, on the other hand you are a spontaneous person, so you make life more fun and full of surprises. You make each other even more stronger; both emotionally and physically. You keep each other stable and on track, focusing on your goals. Both of you are independent so you only provide emotional support, words of encouragement and comfort.

This piece of writing is just for fun, also it is imo, so it's not necessarily accurate 🫶🏻

[tiredmamaissy]

Make Your Choice

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Listen to Gentrify - Da Vosk Docta whilst reading ;)

Read part II here

Characters: Lo’ak Sully (20) x Na'vi Reader y/n (20) x Neteyam Sully (21)

Warnings: NSFW, pure filthy smut, profanity, oral sex, edging, foreplay, consensual king neteyam, impatient dom lo’ak, see warning re incest below

❗️I don’t see this as incest because they are not engaging with each other - only with the reader. They take turns, and don’t touch each other in any sexual way. However, this does involve them both sexually engaging with the same person. Do with this info as you will. Do not engage if this is a trigger for you.❗️

Word Count: 2.7k

Author’s Note: Thank you anon, I love this idea. Sorry I took so long to get to your request, as well as all the other requests. See my post about requests, here.

Synopsis: Neteyam and Lo’ak both have a major crush on you. They’ve been fighting over you since childhood, and now that you’re all grown up, they take turns showing you who you should choose, once and for all.

Tags: @pandorxx (check out their ‘both’ series!) @lovekeeho @jakexneytiri

Intro:

Lo’ak and Neteyam have been fighting over you since childhood. Boasting about who could do what better – engaging in endless banshee and sparing matches to prove it to you. They did everything they could to win your heart over. You’ve always struggled to choose. Both were just so delicious – both perfect in their own ways. It was, and still is, the hardest decision of your life. Until one day, sitting in your tent, they decided that they’ve had enough of this long, drawn out competition – they wanted settle this once and for all.

----

“We settle this, today.” Neteyam growls, poking his younger brother’s chest.

“Yeah? Fine with me.” Lo’ak snarls, coming face to face with Neteyam.

They both slowly turn to you, undressing you with their dark, smouldering eyes.

“Y/n.” They say in unison.

Your eyes widen at the sight of their ominous demeanour. “Guys...” You mutter, taking a few steps back, looking back and forth between the two brothers that tower over you. “How exactly are we ‘settling’ this?” You ask slowly, with a shaky voice.

“Let’s face the facts.” Lo’ak begins.

“After so many years we have proved to you that we are both mighty warriors...” Neteyam steps towards you.

“...and we’re so handsome...” Lo’ak continues, as Neteyam rolls his eyes.

 “...but who will make the better mate?” They tease simultaneously, inching in even closer to you. They look at each other, and grin, as if they were about to compete in the biggest challenge yet.

“What do we start with first? A kiss?” Neteyam suggests, raising his eyebrows.

Lo’ak scoffs. “C’mon, bro. Such a wuss.” Lo’ak smirks, turning to face you. “How about I give you the best head of your life?”

Neteyam head snaps toward you. “No. I, will be the one to give you that, y/n.” he comes closer you.

Lo’ak comes between you and Neteyam, shoving him away from you. Neteyam rushes towards Lo’ak, towering over him with clenched fists. Lo’ak peers up at him through hooded eyes, also assuming a hostile position. You come to the realization that this has gone way too far and needs to be settled. You quickly come between them, separating them with your hands.

“Boys.” You mutter, feeling their chests press against your hands, closing in on you. “Boys!” You shout, finally getting their attention. “Stop! We’ll do it. Okay?” You lower your voice, shaking your head to look at them both. “But we do it fair... just don’t fucking fight.”

They ease off, surprised by your intervention, and create space between each other. You exhale, feeling a sense of relief wash over you, and back up as well. They stand far from you, huffing and puffing from the adrenaline that courses through their bodies. Your eyes swing back and forth between the two, trying to decide who goes first.

Your eyes fall on the shorter boy, looking him up and down – lean, yet chiselled, younger, and gregarious. Eventually, your eyes settle on the taller boy, lingering as you examine his body thoroughly – muscular, yet tall and slim, mature, and reserved.

“Neteyam. You’re first.” You mutter, holding eye contact with the golden saucers that gaze down at you.

A smile plasters on his face. “Smart choice, my love.” He inches in closer to you, shortening the distance between your lips and his. He lingers there, allowing his lips to brush against yours as you both share each other’s breaths. “Can I kiss you?”

Lo’ak rolls his eyes, shakes his head, and seats himself at the back of the tent to watch the show.

“Yes.” You breathe into his mouth, closing your eyes.

He kisses you slowly, and passionately, following your lead to determine what feels good for you. He gently sucks your bottom lip into his mouth before his tongue asks for permission to swirl around yours. You melt into his kiss, allowing your tongue to intertwine with his as he runs his fingers through your hair. Feeling your body heat up from his sensual touches, you can’t help but moan softly into his mouth. You pull away suddenly, panting from the heat in your chest. You swallow your spit and step back, focusing on the seething figure behind Neteyam.

“Lo’ak.” You catch your breath.

He storms over, breathing heavily – not from arousal, but from jealously. He grabs you by the jaw, and kisses you hungrily, sliding his tongue into your mouth. Your teeth click together from his sharp, eager movements. His desire for you is evident from the soft grunts that vibrate through his nose onto yours. You feel the familiar heat build deep in your chest, as he tames you with his rough kisses. You push him away and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

You take a second to gather yourself, already feeling your body respond to their touches. “Alright, then.” You pant, staring at the four glowing eyes before you.

You sense a sinking feeling in your stomach, realizing what you just got yourself into. It’s too late to have regrets, though – you might as well embrace this and make the best out of this situation. Besides, it’s undeniable what these two are doing to your body. It’s evident in your already wet loincloth. You back up quickly, bumping into the table behind you. Hopping on the table, you spread your legs slowly, looking at the two boys drop their gazes to your soaked loincloth.

“What was all this talk about ‘the best head of my life’?”

Your breath is heavy as you stare at Neteyam, who is visibly restraining himself from lashing out at his brother and taking you for himself. You could see a switch flip in him, like he got riled up from seeing Lo’ak smother you in that way – like he wants to have the final touch. Seeing him in this way excites you, making you want to see how far you can push him.

“Come take these off, Nete.” You moan softly, shifting your hips to provide him with better access to your undergarments.

“My pleasure.” He growls, fixing his gaze on you as he leans over you. He grabs your hips, yanking them over the edge of the table, and rips your loincloth off you. “Sorry, love.” He huffs softly, unaware of his own strength.

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath, becoming even more aroused from his possessive body language.

You watch him kneel before you, maintaining his fixed gaze, as he waits for your next command. Giving him permission with a slight nod, you watch his face make its way between your legs. He breaks eye contact, dropping his gaze onto your glistening slit. Your heart pounds violently as you watch his eyes widen, and lips part at the sight of your dripping slit. He rubs a single finger up and down against your cunt, lubricating it with your slick. He plays with your wetness a little, pulling his finger away to reveal a thick string of slick, connecting his finger to your pussy. Neteyam swirls the string around his tongue to finally taste you in his mouth. His eyes close, allowing him to savour the sweetness of your cunt before he swallows it.

It sends him into a frenzy, where he grips your soft thighs and eats you out ravenously. You fling your head back from the sudden warmth engulfing your clit, releasing loud, lengthy mewls into the air. You’re panting loudly – almost breathless from the intensity of his sucking. You lift your head back up, looking directly into Lo’ak’s famished eyes as his brother eats you out. Watching him watch you get off to Neteyam’s lewd touches makes it even more exciting. You can see the bulge in his loincloth, fighting to find a way out of its constraints.

A finger enters you suddenly, causing you to take a sharp breath. Neteyam hooks his finger towards him, and fucks your cunt erratically, trying to establish a good rhythm with his tongue and finger in unison. Your moans become more desperate – more needy, as you’re already nearing your climax. You want to cum in Neteyam’s mouth so badly, but you also want to give Lo’ak a chance. He’s watching you so intently, blowing hot air out of his nostrils from his mixed feelings of arousal and anger. You could tell how badly he wants to devour you, too. Neteyam notices that you’re staring at his brother and plunges another digit inside of you.

“Holy f-fuck. Neteyam!” you cry out, jolting your hips from the overstimulation. You find your pelvis rolls into his fingers as he’s flicking his tongue against your swollen clit. The feeling makes your entire body shudder, as the heat gathering in your chest shoots down into your cunt.

“Ne-neteyam...” you moan, squeezing your eyes shut. “I - I’m gonna cum! Stop!” You shriek, pushing his head away.

He pulls up, catching his breath and licking his fingers clean. “You should’ve let me finish” he says breathlessly, as your slick drips down his chin onto his chest.

Lo’ak takes this as his signal to come over. He pushes Neteyam out the way and takes his place, dropping to his knees before you. “My turn, yes?” he begs you with his eyes, already holding on tightly to your trembling thighs. You take note of his restraint, as he waits patiently for his command.

“Eat.” You push your pelvis towards his mouth.

He wastes no time and devours your sopping cunt, lapping up your juices greedily. He’s groaning into your pussy, spreading your lips with his warm tongue. Neteyam looks dumbfounded watching his brother’s animalistic behaviour. Neteyam shoots you a glance, seeing you bite back a moan.

“Ngh... Fuck. Lo’ak!” you rasp, unable to hold back your lusty noises anymore.

Lo’ak fucks you with his tongue while his nose rubs against your sore clit. This sends you over the edge, you feel your legs shake every time his tongue brushes past your sweet spot. You feel so vulnerable – so tender. He grabs your hand and places it on his head, squeezing it, telling you to hold on to him. You weave your fingers through his loose braids and grip tightly, humping into his face as you make eye contact with Neteyam.

You feel feverish yourself – rutting your hips into Lo’ak’s mouth in an erratic manner, whilst seducing his brother with your eyes. You were practically undressing Neteyam, imagining what the huge imprint in his loincloth looks like. You look down and see Lo’ak peering up at you, moving his tongue back up to your clit, massaging it with the flat of his tongue. A fire pools low in your abdomen, and it feels like you’ll burst any second.

Lengthy whimpers escape your gaping mouth, both Neteyam and Lo’ak could tell that you were close to cumming, hard. “Ugh... Oh. Oh – oh shit. Lo’ak!” you try to push away his head, but he just shoves his face into your cunt even harder. The overstimulation is maddening, to the point where stars start to cloud your vision. “Fuck! Fuck! Stop!” you close your legs around his head, yet he persists – sucking on your clit like his life depends on it.

Suddenly the burning sensation in your clit stops. Neteyam pulls Lo’ak off you, both falling on their bottom as they pant heavily from the whole ordeal. You desperately try to calm down, catching your breath and steadying your heartbeat.

“Play fair, brother.” Neteyam growls, squeezing Lo’ak’s neck. Lo’ak shrugs him off, hissing at him.

“Boys... don’t” you groan shakily. Sitting yourself up even more, you look down at your two boy toys kneeling on the floor.

“Neteyam. Show me what you have in there.” You demand, burning a hole into his crotch with your eyes.  

Your gaze follows him as he stands slowly, hooking his thumbs under the band of his loincloth. He slides it down, releasing his rock-hard, throbbing cock. It smacks loudly against his stomach, leaving a sticky spot behind. The tip of his cock touches the bottom of his rib cage – he’s massive. How in the fuck will you take all of that? Not only is his cock the length of your forearm, but it’s almost the thickness of it, too. Beads of cum are already oozing out the slit of his mushroom-like, pulsing head.

“Oh, fuck.” You mutter, unable to look away.

Neteyam can’t help but grin, proud of his size. Still maintaining eye contact with him, you blabber out for his brother to do the same.

“Lo’ak... your turn now.” You turn your head in Lo’ak’s direction, yet you still can’t look away from this monstrous, hung, and veiny cock – boosting Neteyam’s ego even more.

You feel something velvety, yet rigid, brushing against your thigh. Tearing away from your locked gaze on Neteyam’s cock, you look down to see Lo’ak’s jumping cock, lying on your thigh. You nibble on your bottom lip as your eyes trace the rest of his torso, making their way up to meet his inebriated stare.

“I thought we were playing fair, y/n.” He spits.

Your eyebrow raises before dropping your lidded eyes back down to this heavy thing resting on your thigh. Why is it so fucking heavy? At first you thought he was trying to get your attention by resting his hand on your thigh, but this?

“Shit.” It comes out more as a soft whimper, rather than a whisper.

Length wise – he’s at most an inch or two shorter than his older brother, but – Lo’ak’s cock is thick. You thought Neteyam’s was thick, but this? This is actually the thickness of your forearm. Not only that, but it curves upwards ever so slightly. The tip of his cock is even girthier than his shaft – it’s pink, swollen and throbbing for attention. How could you ever take this inside of you?

“Good Eywa.” you breathe, now feeling Neteyam’s weighty cock rest against your other thigh.

How can I choose just one of these?

You look up to see Neteyam’s dazed eyes locked onto your leaking slit. In your peripheral vision you catch a glimpse of his cock, jumping, eagerly asking for permission to enter you.

“Make your choice.” The two brothers chant, both inching their cocks closer to your cunt.

“Let’s do it, y/n.” Lo’ak adds, taking your nipple into his mouth.

“I – I think I need to try you both first.” You moan softly, flickering your eyes between the two of them.

They both look at you and grin, dropping their gaze down to the slick pooling on the table.

“Let’s get it done, my love.” Neteyam says in a husky voice, sliding his hand over your cunt.

——

[herstoryheaven]

Descendants Harry Hook x Reader: The Pirate's Enchanted Locket

Prompt: Y/n has an ancient locket that transports her to The Isle of the Lost. Captured by Harry Hook, he initially suspects her of being a spy. As he grows fascinated by her, he defends her against a rival gang’s attack. In a moment of intense emotion, Harry confesses his feelings.

Reader: Female

Word count: 3584

Average reading time: 13 min

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: This story contains themes involving emotional distress, fear, and harassment. If you are sensitive to these topics, please read with care.

The full moon hung high in the sky, casting a silver glow over the restless sea. Y/N stood at the edge of a rocky cliff, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and anxiety. Clutched in her hand was an ancient locket, a mysterious inheritance from her mother that promised to bring you what your heart desires the most. The locket felt warm in her palm, as if it had a life of its own, pulsating with a gentle rhythm. As she carefully opened the locket, wisps of magic light surrounded her, pulling her through time and space.

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

Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.

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

When the light faded, Y/N found herself on the deck of a pirate ship, the grimy structure silhouetted against the dark waters of the Isle of the Lost. The smell of saltwater and smog filled the air, and the sound of creaking wood and flapping sails was almost deafening. Disoriented, she stumbled across the deck, trying to make sense of her surroundings. The ship was bustling with activity, rough looking pirates shouted orders and heaved ropes, their faces shadowed by the dim lantern light.

Harry Hook, Uma’s fierce first mate, appeared, his sharp eyes immediately spotting her. He was a tall figure, his dark hair hiding underneath a black pirate hat, a silver hook gleaming dangerously in place of his left hand.

“What do we have here?” Harry’s voice was a low, dangerous growl. His accent was thick, his tone dripping with suspicion. “Someone trying hide, or perhaps a thief?”

Y/N’s heart raced. She had heard the stories of these pirates, the children of villains of old tales, but never imagined she would meet them. “I’m not here to steal anything. I was just—”

“Save your breath, Lass,” Harry interrupted, his voice cold and commanding. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “We don’t take kindly to intruders. Especially ones who appear out of thin air.”

Before Y/N could protest further, Harry took her arm with surprising strength and dragged her below deck. The narrow, dark passageways twisted and turned, lit only by the occasional flickering torch. Other pirates stared as they passed, their expressions ranging from curiosity to outright hostility.

They reached a small, dark cell at the far end of the ship. Harry shoved her inside, and the heavy clang of the iron door as it shut behind her resonated with finality. The cell was cold and damp, the air thick with the smell of rust. Y/N sank to the floor, her mind racing with confusion and fear.

“What have I gotten myself into?” she whispered, clutching the locket tightly. She could still feel its warmth, a faint reassurance in the darkness. 

Time passed slowly in the cell. The sounds of the ship and the ocean were muffled, creating a deafening silence. Y/N's thoughts were a whirlwind of worry and regret. She thought of her grandmother’s stories, the tales of magic and adventure that now seemed all too real.

Just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, the door creaked open. A confident pirate girl, with turquoise braids and a mischievous glint in her eyes, entered. It was Uma, the sea witch’s daughter and the ship’s captain.

“Well, well,” Uma said, her voice smooth and taunting. “What do we have here? A little runaway, or maybe something more?”

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting Uma’s. Gathering her courage, she replied, “I’m not a runaway. I was brought here by magic. This locket” she held it up, its faint glow illuminating the small cell, “it brought me here.”

Uma’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the locket. She leaned closer, inspecting it with interest. “That’s no ordinary locket.” she murmured. “Where did you get this?”

“My mother.” Y/N answered truthfully. “She said it would bring me what my heart desires the most.”

Uma’s expression shifted, a calculating look in her eyes. “And what does your heart desire, little one?”

Y/N hesitated. “Adventure,” she said finally. “And maybe something more.”

Uma laughed, a sound both sweet yet disturbing. “You might just get what you wish for,” she said. “But remember, magic always comes with a price.”

With that, Uma left, leaving Y/N alone in the dim cell but with nothing but her thoughts and a glimmer of hope. She clutched the locket tighter, its warmth still present.

-----

Days passed in the cell, at first Harry occasionally came to check on their prisoner by Uma’s order. But soon Harry’s visits became more frequent, yet the fear of her situation never quite faded. The walls, slick with dampness and grime, seemed to press in on Y/N, their oppressive presence a constant reminder of her imprisonment. Yet, each day, as Harry’s visits became more regular, a subtle shift began to take place.

Harry’s demeanor, once arrogant and indifferent, softened. His initial curiosity about Y/N’s resilience grew into genuine interest. He began to linger longer during their conversations, and the tone of his voice, previously sharp and commanding, carried an undertone of care. There was a tension in the air, an unspoken connection that neither of them acknowledged directly but both felt deeply.

One evening, as the cell was bathed in the dim, flickering light of a single bulb, Y/N’s curiosity overcame her usual caution. She looked up from her seated position against the wall, her face illuminated by the pale light, and asked, “Why do you keep coming here?”

Harry leaned against the bars, his usual arrogance tempered by a weariness that spoke of long, restless days. His expression was a blend of annoyance and hesitant interest, a reflection of the internal struggle he faced. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone quite like you, Lass. You’ve got spirit.”

Y/N’s eyes met his with a mixture of resistance and fatigue. “I don’t cower.” she said, her voice carrying a steely edge. “I just don’t see the point in making things worse.”

Harry’s gaze softened slightly, revealing a glimpse of the conflict within him. He crossed his arms, his posture less rigid than usual. “You’ve got a point. It’s not every day someone ends up on Uma’s ship with nothing but a locket.”

The mention of the locket brought a flicker of emotion to Y/N’s eyes. It was a small, delicate piece of jewelry, a token from a life that seemed impossibly distant now. “The locket belonged to my mother.” she said quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper. “It’s all I have left of her.”

Harry’s expression changed as he looked at her. The hardened exterior he maintained was marred by a rare hint of empathy. He looked at the locket as if seeing it for the first time, acknowledging the significance it held for Y/N. “She must’ve meant a lot to you.”

Y/N nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor. “She did. And it’s more than just a memory. It’s a reminder that there was a time before all this, a time when things were different.”

For a moment, the cell fell into a thoughtful silence. Harry seemed to wrestle with his own thoughts, the weight of Y/N’s words evident in the furrow of his brow. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer than before. “You know, Lass, you’re not what I expected. There’s something about you, something that makes me think maybe, just maybe, there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

Y/N’s gaze lifted to meet his, her eyes searching his for any sign of him lying. “And what does that mean for me?”

Harry’s expression was unreadable, a mask of guarded contemplation. “It means,” he said slowly, “that you’re not entirely alone in this. And maybe, just maybe, there’s more to be learned from each other than either of us thought.”

As the silence stretched between them, the tension in the cell seemed to ease, if only slightly. Harry moved closer to the bars, his fingers gripping the cold metal as he leaned in, his face inches from Y/N’s. “Why do you trust me enough to talk about her?” he asked, his voice a hushed murmur.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She could feel the warmth of his breath, the intensity of his gaze. “I don’t know if I trust you,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “But I think you’re different from most. There’s something in you that’s... kind.”

Harry’s eyes darkened, a mixture of frustration and longing flickering in their depths. “Kindness is a dangerous thing around here.” he warned, his voice barely audible. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe you’re bringing out a part of me I thought I’d lost.”

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the cell seemed to disappear. The tension between them crackled with unspoken words and suppressed emotions. Harry’s hand reached through the bars, his fingers brushing against Y/N’s cheek, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Harry...” Y/N’s voice was a breathless whisper, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Y/N,” he replied, his voice heavy with an emotion he couldn’t name. “Be careful. This... whatever this is between us... it’s dangerous.”

Y/N’s hand covered his, their fingers entwining through the cold metal bars. “I know.” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. “But I’m willing to take the risk if you are.”

Harry’s eyes softened, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re something else, Lass. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I promise you this, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

-----

The nights grew colder, and Harry’s visits became a small comfort. However, one fateful night, the tranquility shattered as the ship was attacked by a rival gang of villains. The sounds of battle swords clashing, men shouting filled the air, growing louder as the intruders neared.

Y/N's heart pounded as the chaos drew closer, each step of the invaders echoing her rising dread. The cold metal of her cell door creaked open violently, the sound slicing through the din like a knife. A rough hand yanked her from her confinement, dragging her into the harsh light of the battle-torn deck.

"Look what we have here," one of the attackers sneered, his breath hot and foul against her ear. He gripped her waist with brutal force, his fingers digging into her skin. "A pretty little thing, aren’t you?"

Terror surged through her veins as she struggled against his iron grip. Another attacker, his eyes gleaming with malice, leaned in close, his lips brushing her cheek as he spoke.

"Why don’t you give us a kiss, darling?" he taunted, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. Y/N turned her head away, revulsion twisting her stomach.

“Get away from me!” she cried, her voice trembling with fear. She twisted in their grasp, desperate to escape their leering faces and grasping hands.

"Help! Someone, please!" Y/N’s voice trembled, barely audible over the surrounding tumult. Her pleas seemed swallowed by the night, lost in the brutal frenzy.

Her captors laughed at her desperation, their taunts ringing in her ears. “Scream all you want, girl. No one’s coming for you.”

But they were wrong.

Harry’s blood boiled when he saw the attackers’ rough treatment of Y/N. With a roar that seemed to come from the depths of his soul, he burst onto the deck, his sword gleaming with deadly intent. His eyes blazed with fury, locked onto Y/N even as he swung his weapon with lethal precision.

"Back off, you scurvy dogs!" Harry's voice was a thunderclap of rage. "Touch her again, and I’ll have you all walk the plank!"

The attackers hesitated, the ferocity of Harry’s assault breaking their resolve. They had underestimated him, and now they were paying the price. One by one, they began to retreat, their faces pale with fear as Harry cut a swath through their ranks, his determination an unmistakable force.

The attacker holding Y/N released her, shoving her roughly to the ground. She scrambled back, her heart racing, watching as Harry fought like a man possessed. Each swing of his sword was a vow to protect her, his movements a blur of deadly grace.

One of the attackers, emboldened by desperation, lunged at Harry with a dagger. Harry parried the blow effortlessly, his sword flashing in the dim light as he disarmed and incapacitated the man with brutal efficiency.

When the last of the attackers had fled into the night, Harry's attention turned to Y/N. She stood trembling, her face pale, tears carving silent paths down her cheeks. Her eyes met his, wide and haunted, a mix of fear and relief swirling in their depths.

Harry approached her slowly, his expression softening, the pirate's fury melting into concern. Gently, he placed his hands on her shoulders, his touch a grounding anchor against the storm of her emotions.

“It’s over now,” Harry said softly, his voice a soothing balm against her raw nerves. “You’re safe.”

Y/N collapsed against him, her body wracked with sobs. Harry held her tightly, his embrace a shield against the horrors of tonight. For a moment, the world was reduced to the two of them, the warmth of his presence pushing back the cold grip of fear.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. “I was so scared…”

“I know,” Harry murmured, his hand stroking her hair gently. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not ever again.”

-----

His arms wrapped around her, carefully lifting her in his arms. Y/N’s heart fluttered as she felt his warmth and strength surrounding her. She buried her face in his neck, her tears flowing freely. The world outside seemed to fade as Harry carried her through the remaining chaos, his movements both strong and tender.

“Harry…” Y/N’s voice was muffled against his skin. “They—they were touching me… I was so scared.”

Harry’s breath hitched at her words. He tightened his embrace, his heart aching at the thought of her suffering. He carried her to his quarters, the soft glow of lanterns casting a warm light around the room. Gently, he set her down on the bed and knelt beside her, his eyes full of concern.

“No one will ever touch you like that again,” Harry vowed, his voice firm yet gentle. “I swear it on my life.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude and increasing affection. “Thank you for protecting me, Harry. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Harry’s gaze softened. He brushed a stray tear from her cheek, his touch light and comforting. “You don’t need to worry about that. You’re mine to protect, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

The room was filled with an intense, charged silence. Harry’s hand gently cupped Y/N’s cheek as he leaned in closer. His gaze was locked on hers, his eyes burning with a mixture of fierce protectiveness and deep affection. 

Slowly, he pulled her closer, his hook wrapping around her waist in a tender embrace. With a gentle yet firm grip, he tilted her chin up with his other hand. The proximity between them was electric, and Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as Harry’s lips hovered near hers.

Without breaking eye contact, Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle at first, a soft, reassuring touch that spoke of his promises and his unspoken feelings. As the kiss deepened, it became more passionate, filled with the urgency of their emotions and the relief of their survival.

Y/N’s hands found their way to Harry’s chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. She clung to him, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring herself in the moment.

When they finally broke apart, their breaths mingling in the warm, intimate space, Harry’s eyes were filled with a mixture of relief and something deeper, something that Y/N recognized as love.

“I’m yours.” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. “I want to stay here with you. I want to be where I belong.”

Harry’s eyes shone with a mixture of pride and tenderness. “And I’m yours, Lass. I’d let the world flood if it means knowing you are safe.”

Y/N felt a profound sense of safety wash over her. She reached out, her fingers tracing the lines of Harry’s face, committing every detail to memory. The flickering lantern light played off his features, casting shadows that danced and flickered with a life of their own. 

“I never knew I could feel this way,” she admitted, her voice soft and filled with wonder. “Like I’m whole when I’m with you.”

Harry’s expression softened even further, and he took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to her palm. “You complete me, Y/N. You’re my strength and my reason. I’d do anything to see you smile again.”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes, but this time they were tears of joy and overwhelming emotion. “You already have,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “You saved me, Harry. In more ways than one.”

Harry’s eyes glittered with unshed tears of his own as he pulled her into another embrace, his arms wrapping around her protectively. They sat there for a long moment, holding each other, finding comfort and strength in their shared connection.

Finally, Harry pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a serious expression. “We’ll face whatever comes next together. You and me. No one can stand against us.”

Y/N nodded, a sense of determination filling her. “Together.” she agreed, her voice steady and confident. “Always.”

They stayed close, the warmth of their bodies mingling as they found comfort in each other's presence. Outside, the world continued its relentless march, but inside Harry’s quarters, time seemed to stand still, allowing them a precious moment of peace and love.

Harry brushed his lips against her forehead, a gentle promise of his unwavering commitment. “Rest now, Lass. You’re safe with me.”

With a sigh of contentment, Y/N closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax fully for the first time in what felt like forever.

-----

With the dawn of a new day, Y/N knew she had to make a choice. The locket’s magic had brought her here, but if she wanted to truly stay with Harry, she had to break the bond that tethered her to her world. Without hesitation, she took her mothers locket no matter how much it meant to her and broke it, the magic dissolving into the morning light.

Harry watched her with a mixture of pride and deep affection. As the last piece of the locket crumbled, he pulled her into a close embrace, his arms wrapping around her protectively.

“You’ve chosen to stay,” he said softly, his voice filled with gratitude. “And I’ll be here, always.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a profound sense of belonging.

He took a deep breath, the weight of his words heavy with promise. “I want more for you than just this Isle of the Lost. You deserve a life full of beauty and opportunity, not one mired in darkness and danger. I’ll get us out of here. We’ll find our way to Auradon, and I’ll give you the life you’ve always dreamed of.”

Y/N looked at him, her heart swelling with emotion. “Harry, I don’t care where we go or what we do, as long as I’m with you. You’re my home.”

Harry’s gaze softened. “Then we’ll make a new home together. I promise you, Lass, I’ll fight every step of the way to give you the life you deserve.”

As they were completely lost in each other's embrace, the door to Harry’s quarters creaked open. Uma, the formidable pirate queen and Harry’s captain, stepped inside. Her eyes flared with curiosity and a hint of amusement as she took in the scene before her.

“Well, well, well,” Uma drawled, her voice filled with her usual commanding presence. “Seems like you two have been busy. Thought I’d check in on my first mate and supposed to be prisoner.”

Harry’s posture stiffened, but he quickly masked his surprise with a smirk. “Just taking care of things, Uma.”

Uma’s gaze softened slightly as she looked at Y/N. “You’ve caused quite a stir, girl. This place is no vacation. But if Harry’s vouching for you, you must be something special.”

Y/N, feeling a bit awkward under Uma’s scrutiny, managed a small smile. “I’m just trying to find my way.”

Uma nodded, her expression becoming more serious. “Well, if you’re sticking around, you’d better be prepared. Life here isn’t exactly gentle.”

“I’ve learned that the hard way,” Y/N admitted.

Uma’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Good. Because you’ll need all the strength you can get. But if you’re with Harry, that’s a good start. He’s not one to take chances with those he cares about.”

Y/N glanced at Harry, who looked back at her with a mixture of pride and affection. Uma’s approval meant something—especially if it meant a smoother journey ahead.

“Well, since you’re both set on staying,” Uma continued, her tone softer, “let’s make sure you’re prepared. Harry, we need to talk about our next move. And you, Y/N, might as well come along. If you’re with Harry, you’ll be part of the crew. It’s best to know what you’re getting into.”

With Uma’s words hanging in the air, Y/N felt a newfound sense of determination. As Harry’s hand slipped into hers, she knew they were on the brink of a new chapter, one that promised adventure, challenges, and a future built together.

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

Copyright: All stories contained herein are the intellectual property of the author. Unauthorized copying, reproduction, or distribution of these stories, in whole or in part, without explicit written permission from the author, is strictly prohibited and may result in legal action. Respect the creator's rights and creativity. For permissions or inquiries, please contact: herstoryheaven@gmail.com.

Request Guidelines: When submitting a request, please ensure that your request does not contain any explicit sexual content or graphic depictions, and avoid any form of extreme violence or graphic descriptions of violent acts. I appreciate your understanding and cooperation in maintaining a respectful and inclusive environment for all readers. If you're unsure about your request or want to request about someone I haven't written about yet, feel free to ask me anytime.

[kosmonauttihai]

Actually, that's something I do really like about the Prime3 opening sequence, intended or not - that it's so weird and awkward for a Metroid game, and you feel out of your element until the plot properly starts and we're back to exploring dangerous planets alone. Because I like to think that's pretty much how Samus feels about it, too.

All the strangeness of other characters with dialogue + silent protagonist in a game series known for its atmosphere of isolation, and non-hostile environment + gameplay mechanics where you mostly interact with your surroundings with a gun, is diegetic. People talk to Samus and she says nothing back, she opens doors by shooting them because it's what she's more used to. She takes a moment longer to leave the briefing not because she has something to say to Admiral Dane but because she wants to finish scanning him. On one hand it does kind of fit the isolation theme that the character interactions she has that feel the most natural are with her enemies (oh good, Ridley's here, him I at least know how to deal with).

On the other hand, what makes me like the weirdness is how the other characters… don't treat her as weird, at least in a negative way. They love Samus, everyone's happy to meet her, this cryptid hermit is their hero. The banter from the other bounty hunters towards her still respects her. Nobody steps in to explain things to her again while she figures out on her own how to perform some seemingly simple task because she didn't process a word of the instructions just given to her in dialogue, or when they do it's not condescending.

Bumbling awkwardly through a social situation where everyone thinks you're awesome regardless and doesn't judge you for being nonverbal or not making eye contact, and then after that overwhelming ordeal you get to relax by doing your familiar activities of wandering alone, stopping to stare at and read about strange bugs and plants, and fighting space pirates. Autistic power fantasy.

[evesaintyves]

one of the most confusing aspects of the "make harry potter characters straight again" discourse that's been circulating for the past few months is the assertion that the only reason people headcanon Tonks as queer is the fact that she's introduced with short hair and that's a lesbian stereotype. i mean, i think that's self-evidently silly and an incredibly shallow reading of her character, but i've elaborated on some personal and canonical reasons that i write tonks that way here and here; @saintsenara summarizes this discourse beautifully here as well. i've seen a number of deeply queerphobic takes on this, including entire metas that insinuate that it would be a disgusting self-betrayal for tonks to use her shapeshifting abilities to, for example, change her sex; imagine how trans people in your readership might feel about that.

but beyond that, the logical extension of this argument is that queer people recognizing and making a space for themselves in fiction is discriminatory somehow - insisting that everyone is canonically heterosexual because of their endgame relationship, however, occupies some kind of moral high ground. i understand that much of this is a reaction to wolfstar and jegulus and how silly, annoying and sometimes actively hostile, fetishistic, and misogynistic those fandoms can be - tons of legitimate criticisms here! - but i think we should acknowledge that canon-compliant fic is also absolutely rotten with misogyny, poor characterization, etc. further, there's a sinister through-line in this discourse that people who just want to see characters be straight and make babies are being persecuted by having to countenance queer readings at all - i've literally seen the word 'heterophobia' bandied about - and it's hard not to notice the parallels with some of the real-life backlash against increased queer visibility, which has actual, life-altering consequences for some of us irl. like, some of these posts are just fandom-specific jordan petersen tweets - the woke mob won't let you be straight and have babies anymore!! especially ridiculous to someone living in a place where a miscarriage is a potential criminal offense and federal courts have had to intervene to prevent drag performers and trans people from ending up on the sex-offender registry.

it's been really disappointing to see the vicious enthusiasm with which the remadora fandom has embraced these posts, and it's incredibly alienating as a queer author and reader who just wants to scroll my fucking feed without ten different reblogs of bad-faith arguments that queer imaginings of hp characters are not just personally irritating to you but are somehow destroying canon, fandom, and the very fabric of society (won't somebody think of the endangered institution of heterosexual male friendship?!); you may not mean to direct this kind of thing at your queer readership, but you are, we see it, and it's unmistakeable that there are a lot of ugly unexamined ideas about us behind all those fuck-jkr bios.

[naranjapetrificada]

No, you're not "secretly evil" if you write certain ships and tropes and with certain plot or genre conventions. Tag appropriately and play in the gd sandbox.

Thing is though.

If you uncritically (as in "critical thinking", not "you have to criticize the thing") write things into your fic that reinforce endemic problems in fandom (and society) like racism, it might reflect unexamined biases that reinforce external shit that makes fandom less safe for everyone.

This all goes back to that divide between people who take it as a personal moral failing or an indictment of their character when someone says they've behaved in a ____ist way and the people who understand ____ism words to relate to larger, structural dynamics that aren't about individual morality.

If you uncritically write an OFMD fic where Ed is uncontrollably violent or illiterate or unable to groom himself, a reader might take that to mean that you have some unexamined biases about race to unlearn.

If you uncritically sideline characters of color in favor of making white characters get together, a reader might take that to mean you have some unexamined biases about race to unlearn.

If you uncritically write an OFMD fic that celebrates Stede embracing the kind of traditional, toxic masculinity that characters like Izzy and the Badmintons represent, a reader might take that to mean that you have some unexamined biases about gender to unlearn.

And they could be right. That doesn't mean you're "secretly evil" because your moral character is not even the topic of conversation here. It just means that you're living in this same shitty fucking system as the rest of us, beset by constant social and political and physical reinforcement of the dynamics that system wants to perpetuate, and that there are behaviors that indicate you might be helping to perpetuate that system.

Not all objections are censorship or purity culture or anything else like that. It's not wrong for people to point issues out when they see them. Especially if they're not tagging you, or derailing the comments on the fic in question, or harassing you with unsolicited messages. Especially in their own spaces, whether those spaces are a public blog or a private chat.

And it will continue to feel necessary to me to make caveats like this to "don't like don't read" as long as people continue to be so reactive and defensive about this stuff. Because as many people as there are out there willing to (correctly) drop reminders that writers are real people and fictional characters are not, it would be nice to see someone say the same thing about readers. No, the situations you put that fictional character in aren't going to harm them (meaning the characters), but it's certainly possible to reinforce racism or misogyny or homophobia by perpetuating biases that turn fandom into a hostile place for people of color, women, queer people, people with disabilities, and so on.