#jake steed

[imagescuisantes]

Jake Steed

[cultfaction]

Lord of Wolves trailer released

Written and directed by Charlie Steeds, Lord of Wolves stars Joshua Tonks, Jake Watkins, and Rosie Edwards. The plot follows Nic Cross, who after his housemate dies under mysterious circumstances, inherits a mysterious pyramid-shaped contraption left at the scene, unwittingly summoning a cult of wolf-people who dwell in the dark underbelly of London. As Nic’s path crosses with three troubled…

[moviesandmania]

LORD OF WOLVES Charlie Steeds' latest - trailer and release date

Lord of Wolves is a 2024 supernatural horror film about a young man who unwittingly summons a cult of wolf-people. Written and directed by Charlie Steeds (He Sees You When You’re Sleeping; Gods of the Deep; Freeze; The Haunting of the Tower of London; Werewolf Castle; Death Ranch; A Werewolf in England; Vampire Virus; An English Haunting; The Barge People; Winterskin; Escape from Cannibal…

[hydro-city-zone]

DIRK STRIDER

Lore under the cut

The rest of the au can be found here.

Artisan of the garage, rare breed of outdoorsy greasemonkey

Takes care of himself, all alone after the Doc passed with exception to his brain-clone AI targeting system 'Hal'

Busts up rogue robots with his Atomic Blaster to protect his island

Bonded with Roxy over retro gaming, Jake over adventures and Jane over discussions of the ethics of A.I

Has a close bond with his trusty steed, GHoof

Knight of Heart, Wielder of Busterkind

[hanlimz]

[midnight thoughts: jungwon + bad habits]

pairing: yang jungwon x gn!reader (reader is jake's sibling) genre/warnings: angsty fluff (happy ending) / mentions of alcohol, vomit, some blood / idk it could potentially be a bit suggestive but i don't rly think so? wc: ~2.1k a/n: LOL cass write abt someone other than won challenge pt.2: FAILED!!!! / whtv! this had been in my drafts n then i reworked the idea into that jay drabble i posted but i still rly wanted to write abt motorcycle jungwon so here you go.. (it turns rly soft at the end bc i am incapable of writing hurt without comfort LMAOOO)

as you climb out your window to perch atop your shingled roof, a wave of cold surges up your spine, taking care to freeze each and every vertebrae on its way. your breath billows before you, the white cloud contrasting the pitch black of night. from this vantage point, you can watch all the bodies as they move in tandem, warm from the alcohol and the dancing. it's mesmerizing, the rhythmic swaying lulls you into a state of peace, a state of tranquility. paying no mind to the booming party music or the numbness blooming at the tips of your fingers, you let your eyelids flutter closed. comforted by the nothingness, you take in the scent of wet earth mingling with the air freshener you have in your room as it permeates the air. with chilled bones and a clear mind, you remain a passerby, a shadow, a ghost.

that is, until an unceremonious rumbling breeches the music blasting from your brother's speakers. the people below begin to whoop and cheer as the manmade thunder grows quiet; your brother shouts a greeting, and you're all too familiar with the person who manages to turn heads merely upon arrival. a rush of nerves tingles through your body, and you run over a checklist. heeseung, jay, and sunghoon are all presently dancing, sunoo is watching over the kitchen, and riki has been relegated to the dj booth for the night. with all other options exhausted, you know it has to be him.

craning your neck, you catch a glimpse of his crimson steed. it glints, almost menacingly, in the light of the moon. the chrome accents are like liquid silver as he dismounts and casts a myriad of shadows over his bike. jake claps him on the shoulder as he removes his matching helmet. his hair falls out—deliciously messy, perfectly tousled; it's a waterfall of silky, black strands that somehow look windblown and gelled back simultaneously. save for everyone that has continued to dance, girls and guys alike are crowding around the boy and his bike.

a cursory smile is offered to all of the faces in the crowd, but it becomes real as he turns to look at your brother. friends since they met through soccer practice years ago, friends despite their differing social circles, friends through the thick of it all. they push through the throng of classmates, acquaintances, and strangers—closer to the house, closer to you.

before they disappear beneath the awning, jake pulls him into a hug, and you can see him dig his fingers into the boy's leather jacket. "it's good to see you, man," jake says, just loud enough for you to make out. "drinks are in the kitchen with sun, i'm sure he'll be surprised to see you make an appearance."

and, just like that, the party resumes. you watch as the horde of people assembled around the motorcycle gradually disperses, and they begin to partner up again. despite not offering any physical warmth, a fire builds inside of you; small embers of memory are ignited by the nervousness that rips at your stomach. reliving each one is painful—the images that flash behind your eyes are hot, burning themselves into your mind once more. you guess that there are mere seconds left until he comes to see you, and you are proven correct when a measured knock sounds against your door. it confirms any suspicions and lays any doubt you might've had to rest.

you know all too well who this is.

the slab of wood creaks open, groaning as if aged by the cold. gazing back at him, you notice how young he looks when bathed in the warm, yellow light emanating from your desk lamp. he seems to glow, crowned with a halo of innocence, overflowing with something you can't place. this angelic countenance distracts you from the red solo cup sitting in grasp, distracts you from the fact that he is inching forward, distracts you from the movement of his lips. and, after a few moments, he is settling next to you and fidgeting in an attempt to get used to the frigid air. suddenly, you are stripped of your alien status because he is looking at you, seeing you—just as he always does.

ghosts notice ghosts, you think, daring to steal a glance in his direction. he catches you, ensnaring you with those deep, brown eyes, but he doesn't say a word. it isn't like him, really. he's an obligatory people person, a fan favorite, a crowd worker; he can have you doubled over with laughter one minute and crying the next. this irregularity is not lost on you as he continues to stare. you can almost feel the words waltzing on the tip of his tongue, and it kills you—the waiting game. it's one you always manage to lose.

"thought we agreed to take a break from each other ..." you hum, breaking the silence and turning your head away. "hm, jungwon?"

he mirrors you, and takes a sip from the cup. his impenetrable pokerface doesn't give you any hints as to what he's drinking. peeking over, you watch as jungwon answers with a nod and a sharp clench of his jaw.

"so, why are you here?" you ask, scoffing and shooting him a forceful glare. "why are you here, sitting with me in weather you hate, not saying a word? what—do you care about me, suddenly? about us?"

he prickles at this particularly harsh jab, rushing to defend himself, "i told you, [y/n]—"

"oh, yeah—you told me, jungwon. you told me about sunghoon, about how protective he is of his sister, about how he broke siwoo's nose after he found out about their relationship. you told me that you didn't want jake to get in our way, that you didn't want things to get ugly if jake didn't like us together," your tone is venomous enough to kill as you berate him. "then, after i called you on your bullshit, you told me that it was for my own good. you didn't want me to get hurt, didn't want me to walk away broken ... you talk such a big game with your motorcycle and your leather jackets, but really, jungwon? all you told me is that you're a coward."

the aftershocks of your explosion are still rocking through jungwon as he tries to process all of your words. absorbing your poison, guilt and realization wash over him; he is a coward. and, a fool for letting you slip through his fingers. his mouth gapes as he searches desperately for the right thing to say. jungwon flounders, and you take perverse delight in his struggle. all of the weight that had been crushing you is now his to bear; it feels good, but only for a minute or two. then, this parasitic love you harbor for him squeezes at your heart. the silence starts to suffocate you, balls of cotton begin to fill your throat, and the cold air is making your lungs burn. you turn to see him already looking at you, and the apology you were about to let free dies away.

his eyes are wild, frenzied almost. not in a way that frightens you, but in one that saddens you. jungwon is frantically hunting for a way to make you see how sorry he is, for a way to make you stay. he reaches out to you but flinches away on his accord, unsure of what your reaction might be. taking a deep breath, all he says is: "you're right."

as the admission of guilt hangs in the air, it is almost underwhelming. you sigh, preparing to push up from your seat and head back inside, but jungwon stops you. he grips your wrist before he is able to stop himself this time and wills you to sit once more. his hands are as warm as you remember, calloused and rough and surprisingly gentle.

"you're right, [y/n]. i'm a coward, and i don't deserve a second chance—i didn't even deserve the first one you gave me. but, god—you have to believe me when i say that i care. i care about you, about us. my stupid, fucking thoughts got in the way, and i was scared," jungwon explains, blinking rapidly to keep his tears at bay. "i used jake to hide from you, to hide from how much i loved you. from how much i've always loved you."

jungwon begins to shake—from the desperation or the cold, you're not sure. but, as the conversation dips into a natural lull, you usher him past the threshold of the window pane and shut it behind the two of you. a quietude settles between your bodies, a static that coaxes you closer while simultaneously pushing you apart. gently, you slip the tingling tips of your fingers beneath the leather of his jacket; it is replaced with a fluffy blanket before he can blink, and he relishes in the silken sensation blooming in his chest. enveloped by this newfound warmth, you ask him the same question from before: "why?"

he answers immediately, ignoring the searing pain as his blood begins to flow again, "because, i'm not good, [y/n]. i'm not good ... and, you're perfect. i'm afraid—if we go any further, i'll turn you into someone else. i'll ruin you."

you exhale sharply out of your nose, "selfish."

yang jungwon is stunned to silence; the remnants of vitriol seep like a toxic sludge into the cracks forming in his heart—a heart that he claimed to never have, a heart that you managed to steal for yourself. selfish. you called him selfish. jungwon wanted to protect you from the person you might become after being with him; he wanted to keep you away from the sight of bloodied knuckles and the putrid scent of vomit and alcohol. "i'm ..." jungwon starts, incredulity ringing clear in his voice, "selfish?"

"beyond belief," you sniff.

"wh—how?!"

"how? jungwon—who are you to decide what's good for me? who are you to tell me that i'm good ... that i'm perfect? what do you know about me that i don't?" inhaling deeply, you inch forward; jungwon unceremoniously plops down onto the pillowy cloud of your bed, and you follow suit. in this light, the halo makes a reappearance, and you swear the entire galaxy twinkles in his wide, blown out eyes. resting mere millimeters away, you whisper, "who are you to try and make me believe we aren't meant to be?"

his facade is crumbling bit by bit; walls upon walls of cold concrete are reduced to dust in the wake of your storm. falling back into the soft down of your comforter, jungwon flings an arm over his eyes. stupid, foolish—distracted by the possibility of losing you, he managed to make one of the biggest mistakes of his life. "i'm sorry," jungwon admits once more. "i was selfish. you deserve better."

"sure, i guess. if you think so ..." you begin, interlacing your fingers with his and taking away his hiding place, "but, i want you."

jungwon feels fragile in your hands. the look in his eyes is tentative, almost as though if he were to move, you would fade into a fine dust. in this moment, he is vulnerable—a turtle without its shell, a knight without his armor. there is a certain frantic hesitance you can feel as his heart beats against yours; the rise and fall of his chest is not so steady, and the rhythm is not so sure. having already done so once, jungwon doesn't want to lose you again.

you sigh, and jungwon takes in the sweet aroma of starlight mints and lemonade. "stop thinking so hard, won," you murmur. "i want you. i deserve you. i love you."

"you do?" he asks, uncertain.

"i do," you answer, resolute. "can i show you?"

when he nods, the butterflies flitting in your stomach begin to settle because this is jungwon. pressing into him, the rich taste of butterscotch and tang of beer blooms on your tongue; the sensation of your lips slotting against his is only rivaled by the victorious completion of a huge puzzle. perfect in every way—pieces fall into place, and everything just fits. jungwon is familiar, a home that has returned to you. you make jungwon know your love. so, you kiss his forehead, and you kiss his nose, and you kiss his lips.

i want you. i deserve you. i love you.

[dirtytransmasc]

continuing this

The Fall of the Prince

He had promised. Promised. Their entire life— "Yes, ma'teyam, you will grow to be an great King, and I will be your most loyal knight, till the day I draw my final breath" —every time his brother asked, he had the same reply.

And oh his brother, his sweet brother, not by blood of course, but of duty, of spirit, of soul and heart, just over a year younger. But that year, that one little year between them, it made all the difference. He was so... so precious? in Spider's eyes. Sure, he was a Prince and a knight in his own right, carried a sword and shield, a strong set of shoulders, his own honor and valor tied to his belt and his name. But that year made him seem just a bit smaller, a bit fragiler.

Spider would always watch close, like his brother was a fledgling learning to fly or a fawn learning to stand. He did not care that the world declared him a great bird of prey or a might stag. That was just his little brother. He watchd close when he was on his horse. Was ready to parry a training blade away if it seemed like it would hit too rough. Ready to grab him if he were to slip on the rocks of the creek. He knew he would have to take the falls and the hits and tumbles. Just not when he was around. 

But that's just the way it was, wasn't it? that was how it was with little brothers, sisters too. It didn't matter the difference, they would always just be a precious thing in their older brother's eyes. That would always be his baby, no matter what.

And that's why he promised it with such a soft voice, chuffing at the boy, bumping their shoulders, or hitting him gently with a training sword, or strokes a finger down his forehead as he lay in his lap because he was tired and Spider always gives into the whims of his siblings with a smile.

He swore to protect him to his dying breath, from the moment he was old enough to know what a knight was, let alone what that meant. But he said those words again and again, every time they grew heavier.

And then the war returned.

And Spider became even more inseparable from his brother. Every venture from the safety of their walls— and even then he wasn't much better —trying to keep him safe. They had trained together every day, he trained himself to predict every move either of his brother ever made, so he could intercept them if they ever tried to play hero.

But it all fell apart so fast. No one expected it. Not him, nor his King, nor the guards, or any noble in attendance. They had been out on a diplomatic meeting between sides, at the borderstones of the Omatikayam Kingdom and the unclaimed remains of the fallen Lord's lands, trying to go through peace talks between the remains of the old House, once led to war by the Lord Quaritch. His father. Not that he would ever call him that.

Neteyam's father, his King, Jake Sully, had insisted the boys accompany the council party. It was supposed to be peaceful, good for the boys to see, to learn from. Something about the skills of diplomacy and making peace. It was suppoused to slow the chance of war brewing. 

And it had been peaceful, most of the while. The ride here was fine. No threats. Neteyam had rode alongside him instead of his father, the King, no matter how many times he scolded. The King had just waved Spider off, telling him it was fine. Neteyam was dressed in royal blue, mail and steel draped over him, a polished cornet on his head. He rode a white steed. He looked like a Prince. 

Spider was proud. Proud to watch his brother grow into his title. Proud to stand beside him. Proud to serve him. Neteyam frequently broke the poised image to lean over and joke to his knight. About anything really. But Spider was still proud, proud that his Prince, his brother, could smile at him. 

Then the parties gathered, camps made at either side of the stones, a tent hoisted into place for the royal family. Spider watched from his horse as Neteyam and the King inspected it, talked to nobles, the like. He’d paged for years, but never became much good at… any of these formalities. And Neteyam wasn’t in danger. So he stayed on his horse, lapping the camp, watching the treeline or the developing camp on the other side of the stones for danger. There was none. 

Afternoon wore into early evening, the sun dipping along the mountain line on the west side of them. Neteyam spent some time walking alongside him, pestering him. 

“What is out there, huh brother? What is so important that you won’t come down here and entertain me?” he whined.

“Danger could be anywhere my Prince,” he replied, not looking away from the enemy- no. The King said they were not the enemy, just… a Rival House. With a history that they hoped could be mended. “I am meant to keep you safe.”

“Oh enough with that, brother,” he pouted, “get off you high horse… of both the literal and metophorical state.”

Spider smiled, then sighed, “if you insist, my Prince.”

“I do, and stop calling me that.”

“That would be improper,” he smirks, swinging his armored leg off of his horse’s saddle, before sliding down to the ground, cape billowing slightly. He landed with a thump and a small plume of dust. Neteyam just glared it him. “My Prince-”

That earned him a strike to the ribs, one he felt even through his armor.

“Ow you little shit,” he cursed, moving to playfully cuff his brother’s cheek, forgetting all pretense and manners, his brother dodging with a giggle, running around to the other side of his horse, trying to avoid him. Spider stared at him from over the saddle, trying to anticipate if he’d go left or right, before decided to just bolt after him, using the grip on his horses embellished breastplate to throw him around to the otherside, allowing him to catch his brother before he could get too far. “I’ve got you.”

His brother was just smiling cheekily, “you would never hurt your Prince… would you?”

Spider just flicks his brother’s nose, “no, but I would teach my little brother a lesson.”

“Ouch,” he fusses, pulling out of Spider’s stronger grip, which Spider lets him, not wanting him to strain his arm or slip and fall.

“Are you two done making fools of yourself?” the King calls, causing both boys to snap their heads over to him. He was smiling, softly, but didn’t seemed the most pleased. 

Spider snaps to attention, standing straight, one arm in front, hand on the pommel of his sword, the other behind him. He bows his head. “I’m sorry, my King.”

Neteyam doesn’t follow suit, not entirely, just slumps slightly, and pouts, “sorry father.”

The King shakes his head, a laugh on his tongue, “let’s just… keep our images together for a minute, please boys?” he asks, approaching, “we’re leaving anyhow, we’re walking, no need to bring a dozen horses and make ourselves seem bigger then we are, or flighty at that. Can you two manage to walk side by side without causing a ruckus?”

Spider nods, “Yes, my King.”

“Yes father.”

“Good. Now on with you,” the older man nods ahead of them, towards the already moving party, “for image sakes, Son, behind me, Sir, stand next to him.” He sounds like he is already exhausted by this. Despite being the King, he was never once for any of this ‘fanfare’ as he put it. Prior to Spider’s birth, he had been a sellsword and earned his seat as King through the war. It showed. 

“Yes my King,” Spider nods, flanking to his left, while his brother stood to his right with a mumbled, “yes father.”

Neteyam sighed, before puffing up his chest like a true Prince. He was quiet. Always quiet. He hated these outings. Spider knew, deep in his soul, that Neteyam did not want this life. He would love to return to the village with the Queen mother and live the simple life she took to the second her daughter and son-in-law took up the royal seat of the house. 

“It’ll be over soon. The meeting should not take long,” he sighed, “my Prince.”

“I hope you are right… Sir Socorro.”

Oh the titles were a bore. A stab in the chest. They both long for the life where they could just be brothers. 

The walk wasn’t long. Guards lined the party as they walked from the camp to the borderstones, nobles filled in the line behind the King, the Prince and his Knight. 

They gathered quickly, a piece of hard oak laid on the stones as a table by some of the other servent guards, as if to nudge at signing peace treaties. The King had them linger behind as he surveyed the rival party. He made his greetings, sounding noble and offical and King-like. Then he nodded the boy’s forward. Spider moved first, stepping out in front of his brother, making his face known first, hand on his sword. Then his brother followed, making a conscious choice to level their feet so they were side by side.

Spider announced his brother, “The Heir to the Omatikayan throne, Crowned Prince, Neteyam Sully.” 

His brother smiles to the opposite party. 

This were good. They were ok. They were peaceful—

And then the old fallen Lord's right hand, his most loyal man, a disgraced knight by the name of Wainfleet, struck out at the sight of him. Not the crowned King of the house of Omatikaya, nor the King of the Eastern lands. Not the Crowned Prince, the Heir Apparent. No one he was sworn to protect.

It was the sight of himself, Spider Socorro— Miles, as he had called him —that had him striking out from his own council party's lines to put a sword into his heart.

"Traitorous bastard of a boy," that's what he had growled, spitting foaming at his lips like he was rapid, "betraying your father for the savages that killed him."

But that sword never touched him. He never even had the chance to realize it was coming for him. It was so out of the blue. There was no warning.

And then his brother was there, his little brother, his baby— No. This wasn't right. He was meant to be his King, one day, long from now, when Jake stepped down, he'd take his seat, standing high and mighty, proud and tall, almost godly. That would be his only chance to potentially lose the fragile edge he held in Spider's eyes —was taking that blade before Spider could react.

It pierced through the soft of his belly, just beneath the line of his mail and edge of his chest plate, the spot only vulnerable because of how he had thrown himself in front of his brother— the one who was in a full set of armor, who could have parried the blow, who would have survived the rash attempt on his life —and wedged itself under his ribs, crimson seeping into the deep blues of his houses color that dyed his gambeson.

Spider then moved without thought, he didn't even reach for his sword, Wainfleet was too close for that, no, he reached for the dagger first given to him as a Page, when he first swore himself to the royal children, to his brother, to Neteyam, that he would kill and die for him. It had been a child's oath, but an oath none the less. He pulled it from his belt and plunged it into the man's throat, throwing him back, before abandoning him from thought entirely.

He just focused on the weight of his brother falling into his arms. He was already so still and so pale, the color leaving his face, his hands, spilling out of his chest, but his eyes were open, they were looking at him. He held him tight, bringing them both to the ground, his brother between his legs and learned back on his arm. his bronze coronet falling from his braids, clattering dully into the leaves and dirt.

"Spider-" he rasped. His eyes gleam with tears and fear. His hands don't scrabble for the wound, but for him, pulling at his armor until they find purchase amongst the nooks of metal armor, fingers twisting around the metal lip and leather fastenings of his armguard. His brother's head lies against his chest, heavy, lulling, leaning back into the crook of his brother's arm.

Spider feels like it's him who's dying. His heart is going to beat from his chest. He can't hear anything but the sound of his brother's rasping breaths.

"It's ok," he hushes, "you're ok, I promise, you're gonna be ok," he hushes, the hand not currently keeping his brother from falling from his hold and to the cold, dirty, underserving ground beneath them. reaches for the wound, finds the sword and the slick of crimson and presses into it, futile to stop the bleeding.

The only thing Spider is successful in is slicing through his glove and splitting open his own palm, finally binding the two brothers by blood, red meeting red, flowing to the dirt all the same.

Spider was meant to be in his position. The foe was meant to be after the Prince, the heir. He was meant to protect the Prince, to take the blow for him. He was meant to know what Neteyam was going to do before he did it, to step in before he got the chance. He was meant to protect him, yet he lay dying in his arms.

He knows his King is kneeling beside him now, trying to pull his bleeding boy from his arms, as any father would, wanting to hold his boy in his arms as he dies. But Neteyam clings to him with the last of his strength, fingers weaving deeper into his armor. It's the only reason he doesn't release his own grip.

His baby brother wants him.

He would die in the arms of his protector.

How poetic.

Spider looks down at him, golden curls and soft tears spilling past his open helm, down to his brother's face. He makes sure it's open, passively, as Jake tears his hands away from the wound, inspecting it himself before covering it with his own hands. Spider touches his visor with bloody fingers. It's open. His brother can see his face, it'll be the last thing he sees. Not a cold metal mask. Him.

"It's ok my brother," he hushes once more, finding a calm in his voice he does not actually possess, but rather wants to instill in his brother. He holds him a little higher, so he's more comfortable, cradling his neck in his arms so there is no strain on it. He feels like he's holding something small and fragile, like little Tuktirey had been, all over again. And he was, wasn't he? This was his baby brother.

"I'm here, everything's going to be alright. Just... Just relax, ma'tsmukan, relax," their mother tongue slips from his lips with ease, just for a moment, as he tries to ease his brother's pain panting.

He pets back his braids from his eyes, cringing as he smears blood across his brow. Neteyam doesn't care, he presses his cheek into his brother's hand. His deep sepia skin has lost so much of its rich color, going a sickly taupe, making the blood stand out so much clearer. His eyes droop, heavy lids and thick black lashes swallowing up those bright yellow irises.

The fool, cause Eywa above could not bless him with anything but fools for brothers and for wards, smiles at him. It's weak, he can barely hold it. But it's there. It's there, and it's his brother's true smile, not the one given to crowds or ladies or nobles. It's his real smile, the one he grew up seeing.

I-" Neteyam chokes, blood flecking his lips, voice not prepared to speak yet. He clears his throat, the action looking painful. "F'nally... 'tected you... big brother."

"You shouldn't have," his voice is soft and sad. There is nothing in his mind but the two of them. "That was my job."

Neteyam shrugs, winces, coughs. Spider can see the end coming. Can see it in his brother's eyes. His King's eyes.

He promised him. He had promised him. He would be his King, even if it meant he would die his King.

"It's ok, my King, it's ok," he whispers, so for just a moment his promise would be true, pressing a kiss to his brother's forehead, right at the center, as if to anoint him as King right there where he lay dying. Neteyam hums, lifts his chin just a bit, his fingers release their hold on him, too exhausted to keep it up.

"Your knight in shining armor is here," he chuffs a laugh, sad and wet and choked as it is. He wanted his brother to smile again, he wanted him to die with a smile. His brother liked jokes. It works. The light still clinging within his brother's eyes pulses for a second before simmering out almost entirely. What’s left of his brother’s energy tugs at the corner of his lips.

Spider pulls away, reaches for his coronet, slipping it back over his braids. He nearly drops it once, blood-soaked leather does not give you the best grip on polished bronze. "I'm right here, you're safe."

He hadn't kept him safe. He had vowed on his life that he would. He had failed. But... but he could let his brother feel safe, in the end. He could let him believe that little lie for the last few moments he had remaining to him.

"H'me," he murmurs, "wan'... g'home."

Spider holds him closer, if that's possible, as if his arms could be home. He feels so fragile as he begins rocking slightly, like he would shatter if Spider held him any tighter. Sobs work through him, no matter how hard he tries to silence them, his chest shaking with the effort.

"I know, we'll go home soon,” his brother’s head has lulled against his chest. 

Neteyam’s stopped trying to hold himself up, keep himself awake, he doesn’t have the strength. Spider starts breathing firmer, as if his brother will take the memo and hold on a bit longer. His brother's eyes have lost him. They try to refocus, but they can't find him. His lips tremble with inaudible whispers, but no words manage to slip out of him. He nestles his cheek closer to the warmth of Spider’s armor. 

Jake is petting Neteyam's hair, Spider can see his hand coming into the realm of his perception. He wants to rip it away. He doesn't. He knows Jake is his father, their King, he's safe. He even looks up to the king for a moment, feeling comfort in knowing he was there. That wasn’t his father, never would be, but he was something, and it was comforting. 

He just cries as his brother slips away, seconds feeling like hours.

"Sleep," he hesitates. Who was dying in his arms? His baby brother or his King? He didn't know anymore. "Your big brother is here, my King, you're safe to sleep," he hums, like he would when his brother sprawled on top of him to nap in places that were improper for a Prince. "I'll watch over you."

That's all he could do. He could only hold his brother as he bled. As he fell asleep. Like he used to after days at the creek or the training yard, his head in his knight's. His protector's. His big brother's lap.

Jake is speaking, having pulled the pair to his side, one arm wrapped around him, surely only so he could hold Neteyam after the boy refused to be pulled from him, the other rubbing his son's chest, as if to keep coaxing a breath out of him.

Spider isn't sure either of them are listening, not entirely. He tries, his eyes flicker to his... his King, the true King, the one that stands now and not in some impossible future, but he can't make out the words under the sound of his pulse and his brother's last breaths.

He looks distraught.

Spider looks for anger and finds none. That feels wrong. He should be angry. He failed his duty.

Neteyam's chest stops moving. There is no more rasping of breath. His eyes have stilled, no longer searching, and gone dull. A tear slips down his cheek. There's blood on his lips.

Jake pulls away, eyes distant.

Spider can't believe it to be true at first. He had known it was coming, but still... that couldn't be true. His brother, his King, could not be dead... he could not.

Spider shook the lifeless boy in his arms slightly. He lulled lifelessly. He braced his arm tighter so his head would not fall from him. His eyes were still open, half-lidded, staring at nothing. His face was smeared with blood from Spider's hands. Jake's too. His coronet was in place. That felt right. It was the only thing that did.

Oh. Other than the sight of Wainfleet lying dead beside them, having bled out, clawing at his own neck. That felt right too. It was the only thing he did right.

The parties are mostly gone, dismissed and escorted away, only a handful of royal guards, a few knights, a few close nobles. Silent watchers to the morbid scene.

"Neteyam," he speaks his name softly, shaking him again. More tears bud at his eyes. His lips tigthen with an angry sob when he doesn't get a reaction. He feels anger. So much anger. "Why did you do that?" he asks into the open air.

There is no reply.

He looks to his Jake. He looks like he's aged ten years in the matter of seconds between his son's last breath and now.

"I'm sorry, my King," Spider bows his head to him, looking directly at his brother's still face, "I failed in my duty. I failed to protect the heir."

Jake shakes his head. He doesn't speak. His hand moves to gently close his son's eyes. Then he hesitates, for just a moment, before he reaches for the pommel of Wainfleet's sword. Spider watches him swallow hard, then he pulls it from his son's chest. It would have been too painful beforehand. Now only they can feel the pain. Neteyam is not burdened with it.

"You did good, Boy," his voice was gruff, thick with emotion. the term was one he often used for his sons, holding a deeper meaning of love and possessiveness. It's not as warm when used for him, but it still holds a degree of... affection. Perhaps. Something of the like anyway.

Spider doesn't know what he did 'good'.

"You couldn't have stopped him."

"I should have."

They stare one another in the eye. Amber brown meets umber.

"I failed. The heir is dead. My brother is dead." He feels anger and shame buzzing under his skin. His brother's body grows heavier in his arms and on his soul. "... He's dead."

Jake doesn't fight him, just reaches for his son. Spider is slow to release his grip on him. Jake doesn't take him far, just against his own chest. He kisses his hair. Promises they're going home.

"I shall... prepare a cart for..." Spider can't find his voice, it feels like it's seeping out of him, "for the Prince. He needs to go home."

The King shakes his head before Spider can move, reaching for his arm, "stay with him. You should stay."

Oh.

"I only trust my son's sworn guard by his side, let one of the other men worry about that," he's still looking down at his son's face with sullen love.

"Yes, your grace," he bows his head, moving to rise, "shall I stand guard? o-or..." he doesn't know what else he could be doing. Truthyfully, he believes he is one wrong breath away from collapsing onto his own sword and following his brother into Eywa.

"Sit, kid," his King has lost all pretense, falling back to common etiquette that is far beneath them. "Just sit."

So Spider does. He sags into the dirt. Jake calls some orders to the other men. His brother looks cold. He can't be. He's dead. It's the blood loss. But...

Spider pulls off his cape, unclasping it from the back of his cuirass, and lays the complexly embroidered swath of fabric over his brother, smoothing it over him.

They don't speak. Both keep attempting to, but the words don't come. What do they say?

And then after far too many long moments, Jake breaks the silence, he doesn't turn to look at him, but Spider feels his eyes on him, "you called him your King."

Spider looks up to him, away from his brother's limp hand lying in the blood-soaked dirt. "I promised him he would be my King and I would be his most loyal guard. I promised. So... So I- I just wanted it to be true. For a moment."

Jake nods. 

They sit a while longer. Spider moves to hold his brother’s limp hand. They don’t move. 

“You will carry him home. The men will draw the cart, but you will ride home. I will lead… prepare the family. You are not to leave his body until he is buried.”

He nods.

“You did good boy. You… you didn’t fail. You couldn’t have stopped it. You were worried about him, you would have never prepared for a blade coming for you. Never prepared to keep him from protecting you. That���s just how it is.”

Spider doesn’t speak, just looks at his brother. 

It’s quiet. 

It’s so quiet. 

The prince has fallen. 

part two will be out eventually. teaser:

[little-mouse-gardens]

Yandere outlaw turtles and sheriff reader au

Another rottmnt au that popped up in my head (romantic)

Warning: Mentions of violence, blood, murder, weapons, alcohol unhealthy relationships, manipulation, kidnapping (do not condone this behavior in real life. this is only for entertainment purposes only)

I don’t normally do character x reader writing (mostly because I’m not great at it) I mostly do character x oc stuff.

Gonna say, thanks @lexiechr for inspiring some of my ideas!

So…I rewatched the movie rango….and I’ve been seeing the cowboy turtles au going around and rattlesnake jake, one of the Antagonists in rango, is feeding into my brainrot

Yan outlaw turtles with a newly appointed sheriff reader after they defeat some criminal and are made sheriff.

Basically reader lives out in the old west, on a nice ranch with their cattle surrounded by the wide open spaces alongside their trusted steed and two loyal canine companions.

After catching a well known criminal for the town, albeit by accident, they are appointed as the new Sheriff of the town.

Slowly, reader begins Learning the ropes along the way. From tracking crooks down to learning a variety of methods like archery and even some tricks with herbs to catch and bring back criminals.

As they continue their duties as protector of the town, they start to hear rumors about a band of out laws known as the hamato brothers. Turtle mutants that are deadly criminals with an extensive record of robberies, murders, arsons, tortures etc. you name it.

Reader, in over their head and with no other options, ends up being thrown into conflict when the turtles (separately) end up coming into town to cause chaos. Stealing, scaring and harassing everyone ect. And reader is doing their best to stop them.

When the person who raised reader gets hurt by one of the turtles, reader. Just goes quiet. No more mild panic, just silence.

Slowly turning their head to look directly at the turtles. Everything seems to fall silent as they slowly walk towards them. Boots jingling and pistol, containing the last bullet, clutched tightly in their hand.

Reader just Calmly walks up to them. All the while the turtles are mocking them, basically saying ‘you ain’t got the nerve to shoot’ and reader just stares them down keeps the gun pointed at them with their figure apply the tiniest amount of pressure as a silent warning and says ‘try me’ with zero hesitation.

In that moment, seeing the sheer bravery of this new sheriff, the turtles (separately) fell head over heels for reader. Reader forces these guys to get out of town and a celebration is held In readers honor.

However for weeks after, reader notices odd things. All of the sudden, other crooks they’re supposed to bring back to town comply instantly. no chasing, no gun fights, no cursing. Hell one of the guys even confessed to everything. When reader would press them as to why they were going so easy on them…they just say because there are some more powerful criminals out there who promised not to chop them up if they did.

Whenever reader does see the turtles. They never get the chance to fight, or at least can’t due to doing the right thing if no crimes are being committed. Reader is given dozens of gifts (most defiantly stolen off someone or a lot of people), flirted with and promised a life of love, luxury and adventure if they’ll ride off into the sunset with them. Gifts and letters left on the doorstep of her ranch and some of her ranch chores already miraculously done before they wake.

Reader notices a lot of the people who would talk with them, or are close to her suddenly go missing or come up dead. All with the same calling card, a note written in blood stating ‘for those who try and take whats mine’

To say the least, reader is terrified, but determined as hell to protect their town.

So, reader makes sure to get as much information as possible. Especially after they nearly get kidnapped by the turtles (once again, separately) one evening after patrolling the outskirts of town.

They question everyone they can, from the mayor to the arsonist awaiting trial. And they accumulate a good catalogue of knowledge on the turtles.

They live out near the forested mountain area where the plains fade into pine forests and rocky cliffs inside of an old ranch that they conned a wealthy rancher into giving them. Acres for them to hide stolen goods, cattle and hell even bodies they don’t want found.

Raphael - most notorious from town to town. Victims of his crime sprees are always found beaten to a pulp. Bones broken, face unrecognizable. Primary and expert cattle thief. Herds of cattle missing, wrestles bulls albeit tenderly with zero effort to get them to go where he wants them to. No criminal or person wants piss him off, out fear for their lives.

Leonardo - a true manipulator. A con artist with deadly accuracy. There is no situation he can’t weasel himself out in and out of. However if manipulating the smuggler or bank teller into giving him what he wants, he can always just portal them into a bears den or pit of rattlesnakes if they prefer not to cooperate? Or he’ll just have to start chopping off limbs if- oh? They want to talk now? Well that’s just peachy~

Donatello - a doctor with a level of knowledge and skill that no one wants to mess with. Torture and experimentation can and will be on his list of options when it comes to getting what he wants. An expert in trade and all things related to chemicals, machinery that can be sold and traded in. Plus he knows everything there is to know about banks and how they work, plus he will test if the moonshine they stole or were ‘generously granted’ is worth the price. If it isn’t well….run for the hills

Michelangelo - expert thief. No roads, bakery’s, art museums or galleries are safe from him. Most of his victims get strung up, left for buzzards to pick at with At with taunting messages. Bakeries and the craft store give him things for free, no charge in bundles or hell, even the all the stock if it means they get to go on another day unscathed. Another expert in manipulation, he’ll be sweet until he decides other methods will have to be used, he thinks often times poisoning food is a good method to get someone to do as he says.

Reader keeps this information in the back of their mind at all times. Making sure to exploit their weakness in an effort to make sure nothing happens to anyone in their town. Up until the point the turtles literally threaten to blow the town up into dust unless reader agrees to come live with them and agree to be their spouse in nine month time. Which leaves reader with only two options.

Take the risk. Call their bluff and tell them no or…agree and save the town from destruction and doom

Reader, after careful contemplation and realizing that The turtles aren’t really bluffing, decides to sacrifice themselves for the safety of the townsfolk.

Another thing reader notes is that, even if they manage to disarm the explosives, they are screwed anyways. The turtles know where they live, sleep, and who they care about the most.

Reader knows Kidnapping is not above the turtles and if reader rides out save their loved one, how will they know if it’s a trap and their loved one is dead?

The risk is just to great.

So, much to readers dismay, they are forced to go with them.

Dread in their eyes standing next to their trusty horse carrying their belongings. their two trusty canine companions at their side. Slowly showing the turtles their silver engraved gun and badge before dropping both to the ground as way of saying ‘fine. You win. But don’t you dare hurt these people’

When reader gets back to the turtles ranch, they just go off into the guest room to cry. But still, there’s still an ounce of determination in the sheriff. If they have to act like a doting partner who accepts the turtles for their diabolical crimes then so be it. But they won’t break readers spirit.

If that means letting raph cuddle them and sit with him while he tends to the dozens of cattle they have stolen from other farmers? then reader will sit there and bottle feed a lamb, calf or foal and let him gush over how cute they are.

If that means allowing leo to give them dresses and jewels while settled across his lap while he brags about the jeweler he killed and whispers sweet affectionate words to them? then reader will just settle there quietly. Occasionally complimenting his confidence and strength.

Sitting out back in the shed with donnie while he works on different types of poisons, gadgets and maps for the next wave of crimes that they could commit. Complimenting his genius and the gifts he makes for reader while he absentmindedly pressed kisses to their temple and bragged about his invention

Willing to Riding out with Mikey to let him paint reader and painting with him under the stars with a picnic of food if it means preventing him from running another wagon off the paths.

All the while reader just sit backs and plots. Plots and awaits the right opportunity, maybe a month or two before the wedding to escape.

With the outlaw au turtles, when reader tried to escape at first. It was in the middle of the night, takes their dogs and their horse and just rides off into the hills towards the nearest settlement through the woods. Sending the turtles (separately) into a panic when they realize their beloved fiancé is not in bed.

and Literally from night to the early hours of the morning is all chaos for everyone around until reader is eventually caught and brought back to them. Burning buildings, civilian casualties, ect.

And when reader is brought back, the turtles (separately) decide it bust to make the wedding date sooner rather than later. Keeping their beloved under watchful eyes so they can keep them safe and closebye. Making sure to do everything possible to coax reader to love them back and accept their new life.

[torukmaktoskxawng]

woo woo! love your writing sm, for the requesting and prompts u just put up, could u do 39, 40, 64, 65, 65 for lo'ak x metkayina!reader !! could u maybe even add some elements of a metkayina reader who indulges so much in omaticayan culture after meeting lo'ak and his family ?

#39: Doing Crimes Together, #40: Kiss for Luck, #64: Physically Supporting/Helping Someone Up, #65: Promise/Pinky Swear, #66: Whispering in Ear/Quiet Conversation

Pairing: Lo'ak/Metkayina!Gn!Reader

Warnings: short, sweet, fluff, young love, slight making out, Lo'ak positively reacts to praise lol

Taglist: @mooniequeen

A/N: So, nonny, you put in 65 twice and I wasn't sure if you only meant to write it once or if you meant to write 66, so I just assumed and wrote 66 because I personally love that prompt and I am also a Star Wars nerd (if you get the reference, I fucking love you). Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~

From the moment you met Lo'ak, Awa'atlu was doomed.

It wasn't every day two troublemakers found each other, but when you and Lo'ak established your shared love for mischief, it was silently agreed upon that you were going to become partners in crime. 

After realizing he had made a new friend among the Metkayina, Lo'ak initially thought about how he couldn't wait to tell Spider about you with the childlike hope that he would see his human friend again. You were fun and overly curious, wanting to know everything about Omatikaya culture to compare the differences with your own clan's. Lo'ak easily opened up and got more comfortable in his new home because of you, always asking him about the world he came from. He thrived in Metkayina culture, thanks to Tsireya's teachings and your enthusiasm to show him all your favorite places among the reef. Lo'ak had progressed and learned faster than even Neteyam, but not that his father realized this. Instead, Jake worried about the amount of trouble Lo'ak was getting himself into and not his son's progress in becoming Metkayina. 

But you could See Lo'ak, especially after he had bonded with Payakan. You saw how far the forest boy had come living among your people and you felt so proud and honored to be someone he trusted, dare I say someone he loved. Sure, it was a young, innocent love, but love, nevertheless. The two of you knew something was there, underneath the surface, after becoming friends so quickly after the Sully family moved to Awa'atlu. What was first misinterpreted as platonic love was quickly realized to be something more than that.

Spider made sure to tease the Hell outta Lo'ak once he realized this as well. He had joined the Sully family on the reef after being rescued from the Sky People, and after hearing so many stories, you instantly befriended the human teen as well, much to everyone's dismay. They already had to deal with you and Lo'ak as a dynamic duo, they couldn't bear a third. Luckily, you and Lo'ak were so busy showing Spider around the island that you barely had time to cause trouble, though there were nights when the three of you had been gone from home for far too long, and that alone got you in trouble. 

In return for showing him so much from your world, Lo'ak decides one of these late nights to show you a part of his. Asking Spider to cover for him, the Na'vi boy takes you into the jungle, alone, and leads you to his ikran to make introductions. At first, you were hesitant to approach this creature but under Lo'ak's presence, you felt safe, and eventually, you were comfortable enough for Lo'ak to take you flying with him. Without warning, he had his hands planted firmly on your waist and lifted you up onto the banshee's saddle, his strength startling you out of the awestruck expression you bore whilst you were petting the ikran. He smirks knowingly at the sight of your surprised appearance before forming tsaheylu with the ikran and hopping up to sit behind you, silently instructing his steed to take flight. 

You flew for a while, clinging to Lo'ak's arm as a form of security, the wind in your face and hair, making up for your breath being taken away by the view. Eventually, you felt cold and so Lo'ak had his ikran float back down, landing on the very top of a cliff's edge, overlooking a beautiful waterfall, spilling down to a small, bioluminescent lagoon located in the middle of the island. Lo'ak hops off the ikran first before helping you back down, hands back around your waist and this time, finding a more permanent home there. Sitting down on the edge of the cliff, legs dangling over the waterfall, Lo'ak keeps his arms wrapped around your form as the two of you talk about anything and everything, until you pause, tilting your head at him with your eyes observing his face when something had caught your eye.

He huffs a small laugh, likely nervous under such an intense gaze, "What is it?"

"I can't decide if your markings look like a tulkun or an ikran," you admit, one hand lifting up to trace the pattern of darker blue trailing down his forehead. You smile, mainly to yourself, "It is very fitting for you."

The praise definitely affected Lo'ak by the way his ears and tail twitched, a small laugh leaving your lips at the adorable sight. Lo'ak's eyes briefly widen then refocus, a fang slowly glinting in the moonlight as he forms a smirk. He ducks his head to hide away in the crook of your neck and you laugh knowing he was feeling a little flustered and embarrassed. 

His voice drops into a whisper as if there was still someone around who could hear. A quiet conversation that not even Eywa could be a part of, "You'll be facing your tsurak trial tomorrow."

"Mm hm," you hummed, reaching your hand to cup the back of his neck, "You sound worried."

"Of course not, just nervous for you, since you're confident enough on your own."

"Are you gonna be there to watch me?"

"Of course."

"Promise?" You smirk while lifting the smallest finger on your hand, offering it to him. He snorts with amusement and lifts his own hand up to yours, holding out the extra finger on his hand, his pinky finger. What he once thought was an abomination of his form was something that fascinated you, so when he explained what a pinky promise was, you were delighted at the thought or idea of it. You insisted that the pinky promise should be yours and Lo'ak's thing here on Pandora where no one else understands it other than the few Sky People residing with the Omatikaya.

He linked his pinky with your smallest finger, pulling your hand until your knuckles brushed his lips, "Promise."

You positively beam before leaning your face closer to his, smiling mischievously, "Kiss for luck?"

Lo'ak laughs, a slight tease in his voice, "Those are quite the demands."

He doesn't even finish the sentence, however, as he leans down and captures your lips with his before your responding laugh can bubble out. It was a deep kiss-- as if Lo'ak was trying to leave a lasting imprint of himself with you or vice versa. You didn't complain, closing your eyes and softly gliding your lips against his. Being a Metkayina, you were not one to be short of breath, and Lo'ak was a fast learner and was much of the same. 

Eventually, Lo'ak gently pulls away, his hands now resting on either side of your face and when he realizes this, he traces your glowing spots with his thumb as he smiles softly at you through his lashes, "Anything else, sweetheart?"

You made a point to obnoxiously think about it before giving in, shaking your head and snuggling further into the forest boy for warmth, "No. This is enough for me."

He plants another kiss on the top of your head before helping you settle more comfortably. You sit like that for a while, quietly listening to the sounds of nature all around you through one ear and his wild heartbeat with the other. 

Lo'ak tilts his head up at the sky and gently squeezes your body, "When I finish my own trials, I wanna show you my home. You'll love the Omatikaya and you have to meet my grandmother. She would definitely take you under her wing and show you more about our culture."

You smiled while closing your eyes, your mind drifting off to what you imagined was the forest where your young lover grew up in, basing your imagination on all the stories he shared with you, "Is that another promise, Ma Lo'ak?"

"Absolutely. The most important one."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I saw a picture of Lo'ak and made a little "hm. his forehead stripes look like a tulkun" and when I looked it up, I discovered I wasn't the only one who realized this. Inspo post here!

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Living Weapon Whumpee part 27

Warnings: forced living weapon/fighter, preparing for war, infiltrating building

So Whumpee reluctantly turned around, and followed Flint back to his team, mentally bracing and preparing himself for the task ahead.

Everyone was fully geared up and standing at attention when they arrived, armed to the teeth with guns and explosives.

Whumpee had his two serrated daggers as his companions, alongside dozens of throwing knives in pouches on his belt. His preferred weapons.

"I won't sugarcoat that this will be incredibly dangerous," Flint said grimly, "but if this plan works and we win this... it will all be worth it. My army will be at the ready when you reach Leader's base, all you have to do is bring the place to the ground and signal that you're out, and I will order them to move in and attack. Everyone know their part?"

All of them nodded soberly.

"Good. Then head out, and good luck to your team! You are the best elite fighters I've got, make every punch count for something."

Jake grinned wolfishly as his team fell into line behind him, following him out of Flint's headquarters. Whumpee trailed behind, tense and alert as they were all given horses to ride.

The whole team mounted in silence, Jake and Reed taking the lead with their horses, while Max and Whumpee fell in line behind them, the rest following after.

Only seven warriors, to infiltrate Leader's base. Seven warriors, that the future depended on. Seven warriors, to fight or die or were doomed from the start.

Whumpee's gut twisted in knots as they rode off, away from the relative safety of Flint's base.

It was morning when they set out, and late noon when he first spotted Leader's base in the distance. It sent his hair on end, the frightening familiarity of the place that had been both his home and his prison for so long.

"We'll go on foot from here to avoid detection," Jake said gruffly, and dismounted his horse in one smooth motion. The other six members followed suit, abandoning their steeds.

It was quite a hike to continue, through dense foliage to reach Leader's base. But at least that also meant they would be better hidden from sight.

But Whumpee knew the real danger would come when they reached the large, flat rock field full of giant boulders and other hazards. It was open and exposed, less sheltered. And after that... would be Leader's base itself.

The trip through the thick forest was made in silence, aside from the sound of twigs snapping under boots. The same thing through the rock field, no words exchange, everyone lost in their own mental worlds knowing they could die today.

Whumpee grew even more apprehensive when the team finally reached the edge of Leader's base, scanning for guards. They didn't see any. Whumpee had given Flint the location of the least-protected entrance they could break into. But still, there should be at least one guard on duty. Or maybe he was misremembering.

He took up a defensive stance alongside Max and a few others, watching for danger while Reed picked the lock on the door.

Once they gained access to the inside of Leader's base, they were met with more emptiness. No enemies to fight, no one coming to stop them. It put Whumpee on edge. It was never this quiet before when he'd been Leader's weapon.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @i-don't-know-sal @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @cepheusgalaxy

@theforeverdyingperson

[tiyawnyana]

Kinkmas : Day 5

On a Mount

A/N: kinda back I'm gonna be posting more to catch up on Friday but needed to get this one posted bc I struggled with the idea of this prompt but loved this one

Pairing: Jake Sully x Fem! Omitikaya Reader

Warnings: on a Pali, outdoors, handjob, teasing, slightly dom reader and sub jake,

"Skxawng," you chuckle, rolling your eyes as you watch Jakesulli.

To put it frankly, he fucked up. Again.

You were on a voyage with him to explore some of the southern fields, mostly just for a fun day, but the male had managed to be thrown off of his Pali. You snort as you watch the beast gallop away, back toward the treeline to home.

"Come," you call for him, rolling your eyes playfully once more,"You will lead her, I will be here behind you."

You scoot back at that, disconnecting your kuru, failing to spot the growing deep purple hue lighting up his cheeks. He's quick to shake his head, attempting to clear his thoughts before carefully clambering onto the steed.

You also fail to realize the full body shiver as he feels your hips press into his as you scoot close to him, your chest pressed to his back as you carefully move his kuru over his shoulder.

"Make the bond, feel her breath," your voice is soft against his neck.

He swallows hard, nodding too quickly as he rushes the bond. It startles the pali, and she jolts forward a few steps, enough to have you laugh outloud and cling to his waist.

"Be calm!"

"I am-"

"Oh, yes, because that was so calm for her!" You giggle out, rolling your eyes before playfully clicking your tongue,"Just feel her heart, strength, trust her. Have her move forward, by this rate we may reach the fields by nightfall."

The first ten minutes are rocky, the steed huffs and nearly bucks you off, but with time, she calms. You're leaning against Jake now, peeking over his shoulder and grinning.

"We are almost there," your breath tickles his neck.

"Okay-" He replies gruffly.

"Are you alright?"

He nods too quick, and you lean into him to peer at his face, spotting the light purple around his ears and cheeks.

"Oh? What is it-"

"It's nothing," he grumbles out. You giggle at that, pushing him with your chest as you tease him only for the steed to jerk forward, and you fumble and grasp at skin to stabilize yourself.

The resounding gasp has him immediately apologizing, body going rigid as your hands brushed over hardened flesh, perched atop his right thigh.

You fight to stifle the grin on your lips, continuing to peer over his shoulder to spot that embarrassed blush that has a familiar heat coiling between your legs.

Your decision is very quick, probably not the best idea atop a moving pali, but it doesn't stop you from leaning forward to whisper into his neck,"Keep your focus forward."

And you quickly grip over his hardened length over his tewng.

He chokes on his spit, a startled yelp leaking from his lips that causes the pali to jolt; Jake gasps as your hand strokes over his member, firm but not enough considering his tewng. He tries to crane his neck, tries to gawk at you until you pinch his hip.

"What did I say?"

He nods quickly,"Ke- fuck, keep my eyes forward," he stammers.

A coy grin forms on your lips and you sweetly press them to his shoulderblade,"Good boy."

He shivers, almost sagging against you as you pick up your speed, and not long after you're slipping your hand beneath his tewng and wrapping your fist around him, skin to skin much to his relief. His hips buck up, a broken gasp seeping from his mouth that you wish you could've kissed away. He groans, hips desperately gyrating into your hand and he begins to lose his focus on his surroundings.

"Pay attention, Jakesulli," you tease firmly, slowing your strokes.

"Okay- okay! Don't stop," he pants, shaking his head quickly,"Please."

"We'll see."

You gradually pick up the pace once more, a deep blush painting your skin as your own arousal boils up. You feel your core pulsing with need.

You take your hand from his tewng, gripping his waist and watching as he groans, panting harshly and how his voice got breathy with his pleads.

"Show me you can listen with her, then I'll ride you like this tonight," you tease.

"You better keep that promise," he huffs out.

A/N: love me some slightly subby jake

Tags: @akoyaxs @vee1728 @ikeyniofthetayrangi

[imagescuisantes]

Jake Steed

[orangflowalober]

I need a hero (isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?)!

Pairing: Park Sunghoon x Reader

Genre: superhero, crack, action, damsel in distress!sunghoon, alien!superhero!reader

Summary: in the middle of their New York concert, ENHYPEN's Sunghoon gets snatched right off the stage and put into a hostage situation. the situation is dire and he needs a hero to save him. Starburst to the rescue!

Word count: 683

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of injuries, high-stress situations, anxiety, implications of rope burning

A/n: can i even be blamed for thinking of damsel in distress!sunghoon? like... hes so bbg... this fic was written in honour of my new followers as thanks <3 also writing that chivalric romance thing deffo brought back some not-so-nice memories and yes the title was inspired by "I need a hero" by Bonnie Tyler; btw, the italicized words are in Korean!

~

Sunghoon was having the time of his life at the concert. He really was.

But then he got kidnapped and that wasn't really fun. It was even less fun when they tied his arms and legs so tightly he could feel his blood circulation slowly stopping.

It didn't help that apparently this was the work of one of his saesangs who hired a bunch of super powered crooks to kidnap him and take him to...

He sighed.

The boys must be worried sick... he stressed, while attempting to understand what this psychopathic woman was trying to say. He was having a hard time understanding her because she was speaking in an unsettling mix of English and broken Korean. He was sure even Jake or Jay would have a hard time understanding her.

His hands hurt. They had pulled them back behind the backrest and his muscles screamed from being in the same position for so long.

One by one, the crooks left the room leaving him alone with the saesang and he didn't have to have crazy knowledge of English to understand what she said before she left too.

"I will be back soon my love..." she whispered, her long fingers curling around his neck, before she finally left him alone.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when she finally left.

Although, saying that the place he was in was a room was... a bit of a stretch. They were, after all, in the sewers of New York.

Sunghoon took a deep breath in order to calm down. That, unfortunately, didn't help much because he was in the sewers of one of the biggest cities in the world and the smell was far from pleasant.

Out of nowhere, a metallic hand clamped over his mouth making him stiffen up with panic.

He almost called out for his captors. Almost.

"Shh..." a soft voice shushed him and he slowly forced his body to uncoil, "I'm here to get you out of here" it whispered as the hand was retracting from its place against his mouth and Sunghoon took in a stuttering breath.

He could hear his captors arguing from the other side of the wall.

Slowly, he turned to face what would hopefully be his saviour and the most stupid thing he could have thought of left his mouth.

"You speak Korean?"

The woman releasing him had a faint smile on her face at his frankly idiotic question.

"I don't," she told him and he felt her hand resting between his own: right against the rope, "the technology in my armour allows people to hear their language of choice."

While the smell smoke invaded his senses, Sunghoon assessed the woman.

She was certainly one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. However, while he knew people told him he was beautiful in a princely way, this woman was beautiful in an otherworldly way. She also wore a silver suit of armour like the knights in those old western tales of chivalry.

All of a sudden, his hands fell free from their binds and Sunghoon felt like a weight fell right of his chest.

"Wow..." he awed.

The woman winked at him as she spoke;

"Stay here until I deal with those kidnappers of yours. Don't worry, Starburst's got this~!"

~

Sunghoon must have passed out when she left, because the next thing he knew, he was standing in front of a shit ton of photographers, looking like shit and being unable to understand what they were saying on top of being unable to find a way out of the situation.

"Sorry boys," the voice from earlier, Starburst, Sunghoon reminded himself, "I have to ship this bad boy off to his hotel, mind giving us some space?"

What ever she had said, it made the reporters lose their mind, but then someone picked him bridal style and he was off in the air.

Well. If it had to do with saving like this, Sunghoon thought he could do with being rescued by his knight in shining armour some more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My dearest girls: @ch3rryc0smos & @janaicetea

if anyone wants to be a part of the taglist send an ask <3

[lost-girl-2021]

I need another fem Spider chapter please. That's so (I don't know what to call it exactly) "refreshing"? Fem Spider is such a rare topic in this fandom and an interesting topic for me, every time I see work with it I go crazy

Here's not a chapter, but I did write something with fem Spider in the canon universe, so here's that to tide you over XD.

Spider had always been an outsider. It didn’t matter if she was around humans or Na’vi, around the young or old. It didn’t matter, because her father was a monster. It didn’t matter, because although Spider couldn’t remember either of her parents, she was a reminder of all the bad they did.

Jake had said it once. He didn’t mean for her to hear it, probably. She’d gotten in a fight with Kiri, over a wooden Ikran that got broken when they were playing. It ended with Kiri pulling her hair and Spider pinching her arm, at which point the adults stepped in and seperated them. Neytiri had punished Kiri while Jake took Spider back to base camp early. She was six or seven, maybe, still too young to visit the Omaticaya without an adult accompanying her.

“You can’t fight with the others.” He told her as they flew, one arm wrapped around her front so she wouldn’t fall off. “They’re bigger than you and sometimes they don’t realize their own strength.”

The lecture wasn’t anything new. Spider was always and would always be the weakest link. Lo’ak was two years younger than her and even he was bigger than her already. She ‘hmphed’ a response, brow furrowing in annoyance.

Jake sighed. “How about I make you a brand-new toy? I’m sure it’ll be much better than Neteyem’s hand-me-downs, huh?”

She crossed her arms in front of her, digging her elbow into Jake’s arm. “I liked that one.”

It wasn’t really about the toy Ikran— if it was, then her mood would’ve been easily changed by a ride on a real Ikran, which can actually fly and take her with. It was about the fight, how Kiri got to stay at camp and Spider had to go back to the stupid lab and the extra-stupid scientists. There were only, like, two other kids there and they were both way younger than her. And they all thought she was weird. Norm would make her put on shoes and too many layers when she got back, Max would probably try to make her do more schoolwork. She hated the lab.

“You can come back in two days, okay?” Jake offered, seeming to sense her mood. “I’ll even come pick you up, so you don’t have to wait for the slow-pokes. How does that sound?”

“Two days?” She whined, turning to glare up at Jake. He was looking forward, too high up for her to be seen, so she tugged sharply on his hair.

“Hey, it’s not— “ He cut himself off as he finally peered down at her, eyes suddenly widening. She wondered if he saw something down below, behind her. But, no, he was staring at her like he’d never seen her before.

“Jake?” She asked, features morphing from angry to scared.

He seemingly snapped out of it as his Ikran jerked below him, startling him back from whatever had happened. Spider, as emotional as most six-maybe-seven year olds were, was already starting to cry, startled from whatever had come over the man.

“Are y— you mad at me?” She mumbled, tears starting to drip down her cheeks. “Are you gonna— are you gonna tell everyone I— I— I can’t go back to the forest?”

A big hand reached up, as if to brush away tears. Unable to breech the mask, Jake settled for pulling her closer, trusting his steed to keep them steady.

“No, I’m not mad.” He assured, cupping the back of her head with one hand. “It’s okay, I’m sorry, it’s okay.”

By the time they landed, Spider had mostly stopped crying. Jake carried the girl inside, peeling off the mask and setting her down once they’d been through the airlock. Max was waiting near the door, frowning at the tear tracks on the girl’s face. Eclipse was still hours away, meaning everyone expected Spider to be gone for hours to come.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, scanning the little human for injuries.

“I— “ Spider cut herself off, feeling like she was about to start crying again. Instead, she justs shook her head, running towards her room.

She ended up crying in bed for another few minutes until she felt better, sure that Jake was already gone by the time she got back up. But, she’d been wrong.

She hated the feel of the shoes trapping her toes, making her always quiet footsteps loud as she crept towards the lab. She hated socks and dresses and most of all, shoes. But, she also hated when people were angry at her and she really wanted to ask Max for a hug. And some food, ‘cause she hadn’t gotten lunch yet and she was too short to reach the rehydrator buttons.

As she neared the lab door, she heard voices echoing into the hallways. The door was always closed to the lab, but she must’ve left it open on accident when she’d ran away.

“I feel like such an asshole.” That was Jake’s voice.

“What even happened out there, man?” Max asked, voice quiet. “Spider barely even cried when she broke her arm.”

“She furrowed her brow and I swear, it was like I was staring at Him again.” Jake groaned. “The next thing I know, she’s crying and it’s her again. But, I . . . “

“Quaritch is dead. And Spider is nothing like— “

“I know that, Max. But, I just . . . it’s just hard, sometimes.”

Max sighed. “It’s hard for all of us. I mean, every day she looks more and more like . . . like both of them.” Spider had snuck back into her room before she could hear anything more. But, the words had stuck with her. It was the first time she’d heard anyone talk about her like that, but it wasn’t the last.

[hbfmguy2]

Brave Fox and the Jake Black Gang, Part 18

Less than half an hour later, Brave Fox, once again astride her faithful Moonflower, had Charlie, Zeke and Nate on their feet, but with their hands and arms still bound and gags in place. The humiliated but depressed and unresisting outlaws miserably accepted their fate as the young Dakota warrior slipped nooses of rope around their necks, tethering them to each other, and Charlie who was tied to Moonflower’s saddle horn. The grimly triumphant warrior woman, Winchester in hand and the sacks of plundered loot from the Silver Creek Great Western bank strapped to her steed behind her, urged her reluctant cavalcade of prisoners forward. “Get going, boys!” she ordered.

In front of her trotted the wounded, broken and naked figure of Jake Black - a shadow of the desperado who had terrorised the town and murdered its sheriff. Hands bound behind him, and tied to Moonflower’s bridle, the defeated former Confederate guerrilla sobbed quietly to himself, scarcely able to believe his mighty gang of veterans had been brought low by a single squaw.

To be continued.

[yahoo201027]

June 8: Happy 39th Birthday to South Korean-American Animator and Voice Actress Niki Yang, who provided the voices of one of the recurring characters and one of the two friends of Mabel Pines as Candy Chiu on Gravity Falls; Finn and Jake’s friend and personal machine as BMO and Princess Bubblegum’s steed, Friend, and companion, boyfriend/mate of Jake, and mother of Jake Jr, Viola, Charlie, Kim Kil Whan, and TV as Lady Rainicorn on Adventure Time; and the mother of Chloe Park and recurring character as the Winnie Park on We Bare Bears.

[inbarfink]

I've posted about my various Adventure Time Roleswap AUs, like a billion years ago (actually it was like six) and now that I've got New Artwork and slightly reworked designs for them maybe it's time to re-introduce them!!

So this what I call the "Bonnieverse'! It's a PB-Finn, Simon-Marcy roleswap! More details under the cut:

Bonnie Bubblegum: A young gum-blob girl found in the woods in the outskirts of Ooo and raised in the Crystal Dimension by Bob and Ethel Raincorn. At the age of 12, Bonnie returned to the Land of Ooo to live with her adoptive older sister Lady - and to try and uncover the mysteries of where she came from. Nobody quite knows what she is or ever heard of other “candy people” like her, as far as anyone knows she’s the first of her kind. She's an aspiring inventor - often creating goofy gadgets to help her on her adventures, but she’s still young and inexperienced so they don't always work as expected. While she’s not a bad fighter with her crossbow, she prefers to defeat her enemies with diplomacy or a clever plan. In spite of her cheerful and gentle demeanor, she had a ruthless strike that tends to catch others off-guard.

Lady Raincorn: Bonnie’s adoptive sister, pretty much the same as her regularverse counterpart. Maybe she’s a bit more of an overly nice pushover to provide more drama and to play off her more ruthless sister.

Prince Finn Martens: The young leader the Human Kingdom - a small island-based kingdom inhabited by the last few Humans in Ooo, as well as Hyoomans and other mutants ('Human' is considered more of a national identity than a species). Prince Finn used to enjoy being a thrill-seeking adventurer when he was Bonnie’s age. But ever since his mother, Queen Minerva, died of a plague - he had to step up and be more responsible as the new ruler of the kingdom. He does try his best, even though he’s still a bit of a violent, immature, fun-loving goofball at heart and not doing such a great job dealing with his mom’s death. Might be a bit living vicariously through Bonnie’s adventurous exploits. His steed is his adopted shapeshifting dog brother Jake (who is basically the same as in the mainverse)

Vampire Queen: Once Marceline Abadeer, a fun-loving pre-Mushroom-War rock star who found herself afflicted with vampirism. Marceline found it extremely hard to resist her vampire urges and secluded herself from her loved ones - trying to scare them away from trying to help her. After surviving the Mushroom War, she started hunting down other Vampires on purpose and absorbing their power to be strong enough to survive through the Apocalypse. Which only made things worse for both her self-image and her mental state. The acclimation of not just her Vampire curse, but those of countless other vampires, has really subsumed the original Marceline. Nowadays, she has very little memories of the person who she once was and, as the last vampire left in Ooo, she ‘rules’ over the desolate and gloomy (and nearly empty) ‘Undead Kingdom’. She spends her time trying to frighten people and appear as a terrifying villain (as a subconscious remnant of her desire to push people away before she hurts them or they hurt her) - but it mostly comes off as weird pranks which are (usually) harmless.

Simon the Ice Wizard: A young child when the Mushroom War broke out, Simon was orphaned by the war and was raised by Marceline Abadeer (AKA Vampire Queen). After she abandoned him to protect him from herself, he found himself under the frosty wing of Patience St. Pim, the Ice Elemental - who made him her protégé and transformed him into a powerful immortal elemental wizard. Although their relationship was always kinda distant. All of those experiences and more made Simon on the one hand very protective and kind and on the other hand kinda obnoxiously clingy and socially awkward. Although he's a well-meaning guy and the biggest nerd in Ooo - through a seemingly never-ending sequence of unfortunate misunderstanding he has accidently managed to develop a terrifying reputation as a fearsome merciless wizard. He's mostly interested in playing the drums and collecting and cataloging pre-Mushroom War artifacts. He and Bonnie are get along great because they’re both huge geeks, though he’s overprotective and doesn’t feel comfortable with the idea of a young child being the hero of the kingdom -which brings him to a lot of conflict with Prince Finn (also Finn just generally likes teasing him for being a huge nerd).