#the creativity and humor of humans is just so !!!!

[legendof]

not a musical composed of literally only bathroom graffiti making me emotional

[seelestia]

✦ how can you tell? (of how easily i fall at your feet.)

⎯ oh, how love bleeds from just one gesture. ( some telltale signs that they might've fallen for you. )

#STARRING. neuvillette, wriothesley & lyney ft. gn!reader. { 2.4k words }

#TAGS. sfw, fluff & crack, major pining (!!!). more: neuvi has 1 extra part bcs i realized too late, wrio is a rascal /aff, lynette is a professional wingwoman here (everyone, applaud!!), mentions of various fontaine npc's.

#P/S. pardon my rusty writing and ideas but alas, may i entice you with some fontaine gentlemen on this fine day?? (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) ੭

★ 〜 masterlist.

© seelestia on tumblr, apr 2024. please do not repost to another platform, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

⎯ neuvillette's love is subtle, hidden behind a veil of formal courtesy. the iudex is the nation's symbol of impartiality; personal relationships, a common factor of inciting bias in one's judgement, are to be sifted through wisely. he can choose which he ends up keeping, yet he cannot choose which he ends up wanting. what of a relationship he desires but cannot keep? a conundrum but still, his affections for you seep through the crevices.

it's in the way. . . your name becomes a beloved among the melusines, you wonder why?

it goes without saying that every citizen of fontaine acknowledges melusines to be friendly creatures. all of them are sweethearts! ...but is it you or is there some form of hidden favoritism here?

for some reason, they always seem to go out of their ways to greet you on the streets. a “hello, mx. [name]!” from the right then a “good day, mx. [name]!” from the left. maybe a “stay safe, mx. [name]!” on days when it's crowded too... you're starting to think the quota of greetings you receive is much bigger than everyone else.

before long, even your arms are getting piled up with favors. one ticket for a seat in the opera epiclese from aeife, a slice of cake from sedene, some high-quality butter from muirne, a free beverage from menthe — you lost count of the freebies you've received already.

what's going on? it is as if there's a badge of approval from someone just hanging over your head. visible to a melusine's eyes, but not to yours. (you've heard that melusines perceive things differently than humans, though.)

but who are you to complain? you're not immune to their contagious smiles each time you pass by. on some days, you even entertain the thought that they are more familiar with you than you are with them. all in a humorous sense, of course.

ironically enough, this theory wouldn't take long to ring true: having received a bouquet of your favorite dessert from café lutece on your birthday from kiara, this coincidence only feeds into your suspicion even more.

a considerate gesture but surely, they don't do this for everyone? you don't recall ever telling your usual order and birthdate to a melusine before. your mind scrambles around for a memory you might've missed. who could've—

“oh, yes... i almost forgot,” kiara holds her chin in thought. “monsieur neuvillette says to send you his regards,” she nods, relieved that the message did not make its narrow escape from her mind. but blissfully unaware of the impact her words have left on you.

“goodbye, mx. [name]!” the melusine bids you farewell with a cheery wave. you murmur back a response but it comes out incoherent at best — you are simply too dumbfounded by the realization.

...so, that's who.

(wait a second, is arouet in on this too?!)

it's in the way. . . he begins to take longer breaks, hoping to run into you in front of the palais.

taking quiet strolls just outside the palais is, more often than not, neuvillette's idea of rest from work. although some might expect the iudex to have chosen a more 'creative' or luxurious location, but he digresses.

this place is near his office so less time is wasted on the journey back, liath also patrols here so he has the opportunity to inquire about her well-being — and occasionally, he stumbles upon you as well.

'occasionally' is the keyword: neuvillette has always preferred order and routine above chances and coincidences. but something about this idiosyncrasy — the tendency to linger beyond his usual duration, the act of stalling to hold onto hope that you might pass by today — is a indication of hypocrisy he wishes not to comment on.

sometimes, he closes his eyes so that his ears may be more attuned to the sound of your voice. sometimes, he opens his eyes so that they may look around for a glimpse of your face. who's to say if he'll ever be graced by your presence? it is all in fate's hands.

call it an odd method of manifestation, a childish one that even neuvillette scoffs at himself for. sometimes, it doesn't work, of course. not that he ever expects it to — but oh, when it does.

“...monsieur?” your voice cuts through the silence in his mind. he takes the sight of you in; a polite greeting on your tongue, several grocery bags in your arms and that beam on your face as you say, “what a coincidence to see you here.”

the iudex finds that he doesn't mind having his privacy briefly interrupted. not at all. not when it's like this, not when it's by you. alas, it seems that fate has smiled down on him today.

“yes, hello. what a serendipitous coincidence indeed.”

neuvillette smiles, he can't help it. perhaps, he might grow a soft spot for coincidences, after all.

(you sneak a brief glance at the sky with a squint. ...is it just you or are the clouds clearing up a little?)

⎯ wriothesley's love is beguiling, the kind of adventure that keeps you on your toes. a forthright gentleman; he is the type to know what he wants and he wants you. with him, you'll taste whiplash like never before. butterflies in your stomach, the urge to throw a shoe at him, you'll get it all. but an adventure isn't an adventure without breaks in between and it's at that very moment where you'll find you adore him the most... when he rests his head on your lap, momentarily free from worldly titles, breathing like the man who longs for warmth that he has always been.

it's in the way. . . he always offers you tea when really, he just wants you to stay.

everyone knows that wriothesley enjoys his tea — but that's only because he sees no need to hide his preferences; not his craving for a cup of tea when afternoon arrives nor his fondness for you either.

he doesn't conceal it, but doesn't bring attention to it either. wriothesley likes to think that only those with discerning eyes can pick up on the miniscule (???) hints he drops. that is, if saying “why not stay for some tea?” is even considered a subtle clue at all... maybe, he's mixing up polite courtesy with flirting a bit too much.

but who cares? in the grand scheme of things, the fun is seeing whether you'll figure it out or not. and let's be frank here; wriothesley is a patient man in all aspects, able to play the long game like no other.

don't worry, you may take as long as you want to — ironic since you're technically the only player in this 'game' — but hey, he has faith in your abilities! besides, you get to enjoy a cup of free tea (and with his company, preferably). surely, you can't complain about that? ...hah, he's just teasing you.

tick-tock! tick-tock!

the clock strikes twelve in the afternoon.

“ah, finally a well-deserved break.” the tone in which wriothesley pairs with that grin on his face is nothing less than devious. the glance he throws your way as he set aside the documents on his desk is something. or rather, it's suggesting something.

and frankly, you've experienced this many times enough to know what the underlying meaning is. “let me guess...” you let out a sigh, “you're asking me to have tea with you again?”

the emphasis on the last word is definitely, wholly intentional. you're sure wriothesley knows that too — “bingo,” he hums at you, sounds almost like a whistle. “you're getting more and more clever. must be all the tea i made you.”

“don't flatter yourself,” you roll your eyes at his attempted jest but you take a seat on his office couch, anyway. your own unique and adorable way of saying yes, he learned. still, wriothesley thinks that exasperated look on your face is an absolute marvel... and maybe, that little smile tugging on your lips you're trying to fight, too.

“same as usual?” he asks, pushing back his chair with a proud grin still plastered on his face that you wish you can wipe off.

but instead, you shake your head fondly at his antics. “mhm,” and rest a cheek on your fist. watching him tiredly, you realize you could get used to this. maybe.

wriothesley smiles to himself. looks like you figured out the tea has always been an excuse, after all.

(you've won the game, congrats! a subsidiary reward is a comment from sigewinne about how this tea routine between the two of you bears a resemblance to an elderly human couple's. she means it, innocently sincere.)

⎯ lyney's love can be faceted at first, one with such a smooth surface that you never imagined there would be so many layers underneath. joy and bliss, sorrow and burdens; all cramped and stuffed together behind his mask of perfection on the stage, a mask akin to a child's treasure chest almost bursting at the seams. you can unravel him if you tried, you can take off that mask if you reached out. and when you do, you'll find beautiful violet eyes staring right back at you, thankful, imploring you to go further.

it's in the way. . . his bravado dissipates around you, nerves scattering like confetti that bursts from his hat on stage.

they say that the first impression is the best impression — or at least, lyney hopes that's the case with all of the interesting impressions he has left on you so far. his instinct by nature is to impress, to bedazzle and that hasn't stopped since meeting you for the first time.

trying doesn't always lead to success, however. you stuttered in front of them twice, lynette pointed out after the first time he spoke to you. that fact spooked the poor magician so much he stayed up rethinking the conversation under the cover of his blanket. lynette isn't wrong per se, but lyney firmly believes that he will leave a better impression... one day, somehow, no matter how many times it takes!

he is a magician; charisma and charms should have or rather, already have come easily to him. his persona on the stage is no lie — just a tiny concerted exaggeration, maybe — but you've been among his audience before. you've seen what he is capable of. so surely, you'd know that lyney isn't really as demure and easily flustered as you might think he is... because no punches held back, he acts like that every time you talk to him.

he can't help it and that, exactly, is what makes it worse.

how many times have he cupped his face and mumbled nonsense into his hands for failing to impress you yet again? you're so wonderful and he's just so... miserable. this is unlike him. he has to wonder why you still look for him after each performance when you know you'll be greeted by his being a wreck.

maybe they like you that way, freminet tried to help. or maybe they like you no matter what, lynette chipped in. that had lyney pondering for a long, long, long time which translates into weeks.

will the day come where he presents you with a rainbow rose and professes his feelings for you without losing his nerves? he can only hope (and try, one day).

it never gets old.

when his feet step off the stage and the curtains have fallen, the satisfaction that spreads all the way to his fingertips never fails to disappoint. but with that, also comes the imminent feeling of anticipation.

for each performance he delivers, a visitor is bound to linger. when all members in the audience would head to the entrance of the opera epiclese to leave, one of them would stay. waiting patiently to be beckoned to the backstage. it's been a routine for so long, after all.

“lyney?”

right on cue.

your voice greets his ears, a sound that he can admit he misses only to himself. he exhales, a placating act to shush his beating heart from growing any louder.

“ah, [name]!” the magician enunciates your name with a certain type of fanfare. “here to lend a hand again, i assume?” he tries to shoot you a confident grin, but you aren't gullible enough to not see the tint of red blooming on his cheeks.

you stifle a chuckle at his (attempt at a) bold opening. “of course,“ said with a nod and a silly thought along the lines of: he's cute.

your honest and calm response takes him by surprise. he blinks a tad. oh, it seems the thrill from the show a few minutes prior still hasn't worn off. perhaps, he's still all too used to the crowd's shouts and cheers... not that he expects you to start yelling, of course!

“i see,” lyney feigns a cough to recollect his composure. now that he is cognizant of the fact it's just the two of you, he shrinks down into a more casual version of himself with a nervous chuckle.

“will you... be staying for long?” he asks, bashful. the question sounds more genuine than just a mere pleasantry. his eyes look hopeful, twinkling at the thought of having your presence around. his fingers have even come up to scratch at the side of his neck, you don't think lyney even realizes he is doing that.

who are you to say no? you smile. “well, my schedule's pretty empty today.”

his lips instantly break into a grin, brighter than one he usually has onstage. “that's actually marv—” he starts.

“that's great,” a familiar monotonous voice cuts in. lynette peers from behind you with a hum, “we could use more hands to pack up the new props.” oh, and that brief glint of mischief in her feline eyes as she watches how lyney gapes at her sudden intrusion.

“sure!” you glance back at her, oblivious to it all. “thanks for letting me in, lynette. i'll try my best to help.” even if you admit that one of the reasons you're here is for lyney, but you can't discredit his twin sister for allowing you to enter here in the first place. a free backstage pass in exchange for free labor, quite a fair deal.

with your back turned to him, lyney takes the chance to mouth his own words of disbelief to lynette. incomprehensible except for that one i can't believe you're doing this! that she manages to catch.

“no problem,” she observes her brother over your shoulder with keen interest, “everyone knows how fond lyney is of you.”

there is a series of spluttering noises behind you. a certain magician finds himself at the verge of choking on mere oxygen.

“lynette!”

but really, she has no doubt that lyney has fallen head over heels for you. hook, line and sinker.

— thank you for reading! reblogs and comments are most appreciated. ♡

[jester-lover]

Could you do a Diasomnia dorm with their soulmates? Like the guys meeting soulmate for the first time, mc preferably being a human for that extra drama in case you’d want to add that?💙

Soulmate Sorrows

Oh you know I love the drama. Thank you for requesting, I hope my favoritism towards Sebek doesn’t show as much.

Feat/ Diasomnia

CWs/gn! Reader, angst-to-fluff, mentions of mortality, war and discrimination, brief kidnapping/isolation, bittersweet fluff (various soulmate aus), uhh, Sebek insults you pretty heavy

I took the creative liberty of making Lilia and Silver’s more humorous to tone down the angst of Sebek and Mal. (Also, I hope someone notices the flower language in the Sebek HCs.)

Malleus

When Malleus saw the red string on his finger connected to yours, he was filled with a sense of pure and simple happiness

As he holds you in his warm embrace, some realization hits him like a brick

As a human, you would live for a minuscule amount of time compared to him; he would see you grow gray and weak and pass on as he held onto your memory for eons to come

Or, even worse, a simple accident could take you away from him in the blink of an eye

Some sort of dragon instinct fills Malleus for a while, always suggesting to spend time with you away from others who may hurt you

He tries to keep you safe by hiding you from others, but humans like you are social creatures, and even the most introverted of us need some communication every once in awhile

He slowly realized he would be making you miserable by hiding you away and eventually stopped his behavior, apologizing to you meekly

During this process, Malleus breaks.

He cries into your arms, apologizing for his actions and revealing his fears and worries

As you comfort him, you tell him that you’ll be happy to be his for whatever time you have, and he decides from that point onward to keep you happy no matter what

He’s a very tender, affectionate lover

You can expect to sleep in his big bed, with the warm prince wrapped around you, and to hold his hand in between classes

Malleus seemingly forgets any social norms from his home when it comes down to you; he will literally fight tooth and nail with his advisers to keep you as his spouse when the time comes

Mortality rarely comes up in your discussions after a certain point, as he focuses on keeping you happy and safe

“My dearest, long after you’ve passed, I will still only have you in my heart... you’ve taken up all the space.”

Lilia

He’s as playful as ever when he sees the matching tattoo on your arm; his own is practically centuries old, and while he was content with being alone, he's so happy to see you!

Lilia might play his feelings off as being plainly giddy, but deep down he does worry a bit about how the two most important people in his life will most definitely outlive him

Now that he has a partner, a strange form of protectiveness surrounds him, like he’s found another purpose, a reason to grow stronger 

(A reason to cook more!)

 Moving on from that more serious topic, Lilia will be most excited to spend time just lounging about with you, strumming little melodies on his guitar, taking you on upside-down walks, cliche couple stuff, y’know?

(Just wait till he starts spilling historical tea)

To wind down and enjoy the little moments with the family he’s built, however long it lasts, is a major priority in his life

“I need someone to try out my new recipe~, all the ingredients are actually edible this time around!”

Silver

y'all are chill lmao

Okok, but when he sees you start showing up in his dreams, he’s a little freaked out, partially because you’re very attractive to him but mostly because he has zero clue how to navigate romance

Imagine going on a date with him, and he’s down for the count in the first 10 minutes

Thankfully, I assume you are aware of his sleep habit, and he’s always very grateful when you wake him up 

Despite his stern exterior, Silver has a tendency to show his deep affection for you through acts of service, such as helping you clean Ramshackle House, because God knows how much it needs help (thanks, Crow Man).

Another little quirk about him is his tendency to go along with any cute couple activity you want to do

Wanna wear matching outfits? Cool with him.

Walk him to his classes? Absolutely.

Be the loudest spectator at his equestrian club meets? He appreciates the enthusiasm.

Even if you consider yourself to be a volatile or argumentative person, it’s very hard for Silver to get mad at you because of the genuine adoration and respect he holds for you

He can’t wait to grow older alongside you, to see you at your best, your worst, and your most human moments, until the two of you are old and wrinkly

“I saw something I thought you’d like at the store while I was running errands… maybe we could make dinner together…?”

Sebek

NO.

this is Sebek's worst nightmare come true; the words written on his wrist were the first you ever spoke to him, you, you disgusting, vile, no good human...

He runs far away, back into his room, and under his covers

He refuses to speak to you, refuses to look at you, and refuses to do anything involving you

For a couple of days, he just sulks, which is super heartbreaking for you, considering the fact that you can't control who you are, and your only soulmate just harshly rejected you

Sebek cries a lot. Like, a lot. at one point or another, his mother calls him to verbally smack some sense into him (and most likely Lilia too)

You see him standing at the door of Ramshackle House, breathing heavily as Grim offers to flambé him for you

You decide to hear him out, and he practically spills his years of self-loathing and hurt on your lap

Some part of you hurts for your soulmate, and you hold him in your arms

This relationship starts out turbulent, to say the least, but there’s a mental click that happens for him at one point, where he just realizes how if his own mother found joy with a human, he can too

Sebek tries his best to earn your trust, trying to break down the emotional layers his own internal bigotry has put between you

(it’s also very cute when he shows up with a bouquet of daffodils, as per Lilia’s recommendation) 

You two definitely have a long road ahead of you, but Sebek’s affection is loud and unwavering, and while he might be stubborn in his nature, he knows when to cool it down now

For your sake and for the lifelong relationship he wants with you

“Human! I have a few hours to spare before training, would you like to read with me?”

OMG I actually posted??? I'm crawling through requests as fast as I can ya'll, school has been destroying my creativity for the last few weeks.

[blackcathjp]

any smut fic recs? 👀

OOOH YES!! my main consumption is literally 90% pwps and/or contains smut, and about 95% are dmhp fics 🫣 i do enjoy plot-heavy fics, but i like when there is spice!

i made this drarry praise kink fic rec list before, check that out! here are some other ones:

***

all hues in his controlling by wolfpants (1k)

harry de-ages himself for kinky birthday sex with draco. morally grey and hot indulgence of age difference and virginity kink.

the best treasure is up harry's arse by bafflinghaze (2k)

bratty harry feat. draco's dirty mouth and obsession with his arse. ticks off all the kinks i want in a fic 🥴

smart brevity by lucifergraced (3k)

draco malfoy is an arse man. he likes what he sees, he will take what he wants. uniform kink and fingers in mouth. that's it.

arms and elbows by iota_after_dark (3k)

harry is desperate to please draco, which means trying something new - fisting. draco is so bossy and hot here. also they're weirdo roommates w/ zero boundaries lol.

dirty fucking dangles by p1013 (5k)

hockey players who get the hots for e/o's impressive athleticism. is it normal to have a crush on someone who will literally crush and bruise you on the ice? not unless you like impact play!

all i have to do by fluxweed (9k)

draco expects a hyper-realistic sexual fantasy and unknowingly ends up w/ the real deal. harry leaves hermione hanging for an hour to indulge in this sudden dreams-come-true sexcapade. oops.

just a trial run by tenthousandyears (9k)

d/s fic that blew my mind. plays with alcohol kink, praise kink, "sex worker" kink, consensual dub-con, and more. discovering what they like and realizing they love e/o by doing lots of debauchery!

the complete idiot's guide to losing your entire mind by oknowkiss (10k)

utterly depraved. no nut november concept where draco greedily controls harry's orgasms and harry is super sex-dumb. i love the pipeline of fwb to "i love you, didn't you know we've been dating?"

two weeks by shiftylinguini (21k)

overprotective possessive veela harry, who is emotionally sick until he "meaningfully connects" w/ his important person... aka, draco! the sexual tension and pining is portrayed so well, and creatively manifests in harry's new veela body. i love this wry humor, no-nonsense draco so much.

lusimeles by orphan_account (23k)

devastatingly tender. harry is self-destructive in dealing w/ his trauma, but Mr. Draco Malfoy wrecks his plans. draco just knows what needy harry wants and needs, which is to be taken care of, loved, and kept. i love this line from harry: "how nice it was to be understood without words." 🥹

only for october by dodgerkedavra (53k, wip)

lovely fic disguised as an unassuming "fwb have a kinky month of sex" story. drarry deal with inner demons by taking care of e/o through sex to ground themselves in reality. they fall in love in the process AND there's an intriguing mystery plot. it's so good.

whisky-tango-foxtrot by vukovich (58k)

transformed my life. i've read this like 5 times? unrelentingly absurd and over-the-top funny with refreshing characterization and humor. drarry's animagus traits seep into their human behaviors, leading to adrenaline junkie, horny trashy slut harry x inexperienced, dramatic, mate-for-life draco. this fic isn't for everyone, but it's a hot wild ride.

[fwckriley]

I've read lots of fanfics and headcanons about Ghost with partners who are usually kind, pure, like a angel, all flowers and butterflies and stuff etc. I get it, but no offense, and looking at it from another perspective, when you think about people who have experienced childhood trauma, they tend to repeat certain patterns. I'm not saying that every person with a traumatic past will have a toxic relationship.

But, you see: I personally believe that Ghost would never give a chance to someone he deems "perfect," innocent, pure, because that's completely opposite to how he sees himself. How could he be in a relationship with someone so different from him? How could he be understood by someone who doesn't have a certain darkness within? I'm not saying it wouldn't work, but I think a part of him would never fully reveal itself out of fear of being judged. On the other hand, I believe he would also seek out people who, in some way, are unattainable, to reaffirm that little voice inside him saying he doesn't deserve to be loved. Of course, none of this is really true, but that's how the mind of someone with many traumas tends to work.

I think he would avoid relationships and commitments for a long time, and wouldn't be able to choose someone outside of his field of work. "Normal" people could never understand the things he does, they could try, but never fully comprehend. In my opinion, he would fall in love, without realizing it, with someone from his field of work, probably a teammate with whom he shared many experiences. Someone with whom he has a deep connection. And, as I mentioned at the beginning, I believe he would unconsciously seek out more complex people. I see him attracted to people with a similar outlook on life, who are tougher and more realistic. Who share a darker sense of humor. Who have also experienced some kind of trauma in the past, so they can understand how he feels. I imagine him in a relationship with someone who has these characteristics, and unlike him, is ambiverted or extroverted. Someone who challenges him, calls him out when he's wrong, or is determined. Someone honest, but not rude. Someone funny, smart, creative. Someone with a thirst for adventure and a spark, to contrast with some parts of him.

But honestly, I can't picture him with someone he deems pure and perfect. He doesn't feel worthy or even attracted to that. He tends to surround himself with people who are similar to him because that's where he feels comfortable. Just to clarify, it doesn't necessarily mean that this partner in question would be a bad or toxic person, but simply someone similar to him. I believe Price is the best example of that, who is good but not innocent, not entirely right.

In the end, I think the relationship with the chosen person would be a challenging but functional one. Not toxic, not abusive or destructive, just difficult. Traumatized people are human and fully capable of relating to each other, but it takes patience and determination, and a lot of work. I think that over time, they would improve greatly. Because Ghost's biggest fear is one-sidedness. He needs to know that he is protecting and helping, but he also needs to feel protected and helped.

[theresattrpgforthat]

It would be awesome if you could recommend some solo ttrpgs! I've been getting into them a lot lately and want to know more of what's out there. Especially journalling ones, as I enjoy creative writing. So far I've looked into (and will probably buy soon) Firelights, Apawthecaria, and Fox Curio's Floating Bookshop.

Also, I love this blog a ton. Already there have been some awesome games I've learned about from you, including the one you're currently working on. Excited to give it a try sometime! Keep being amazing 💜.

Theme: Solo Journalling Games

Thank you so much for your kind words! I'm certainly excited to run Protect the Child for folks, play-testing it so far has been really fun!

As for your ask, solo games and journalling go hand in hand. These next few games are just a sampling of what I've added recently to my Solo Games folder on Itch.

Cats Know Things, by Mushroom Witch Games.

CATS KNOW THINGS is a light-hearted game meant to tell a humorous story of intrigue, all while pretending to be a very nosy cat. 

But you are no ordinary cat.

You are a very special feline who, through some magic you cannot explain, can communicate with your human, an individual who wishes to make their mark in society by any means necessary. The two of you decide to start a society page, (a very fancy type of tabloid newspaper dedicated to a particular location) revealing the glitz, glamour, and inner turmoil of the town’s most notable individuals. 

Use a d6 and a d10 to generate numbers, and sneak into places to listen into secret or private conversations. Then bring this news to your human companion, so that they may relay this gossip in the local society page. You need to find 6-8 scintillating stories before the week is up, so that your human has enough to print.

If you want a game full of scandal and cute furry little rumour-mongers, this might be the game for you!

Lingering, by Meghan Cross.

The last thing you remember, you were dying.

Now, breath fills your lungs once more and your eyes open, slowly shifting side to side as you attempt to regain your bearings. You are alive. But you are…changed. Your human form is gone, and in its place is one that is different, foreign, animal…

In Lingering, you play as a person who has died, only to find yourself alive again in an animal form, unable to move on to your eternal rest until you settle business left unsettled from your life. 

Throughout the course of a game, you will make several attempts to communicate with a chosen human, hoping to convey a message to them so they can assist you and help you move on once and for all. 

This game uses a deck of cards and some guiding adjectives to determine how your attempts at communication will go. Over eight rounds, you’ll flip cards while guessing as to whether each card will be higher or lower than the previous one, and a successful guess means a successful interaction. The details of those attempts are what you’ll be journalling, and Lingering provides a number of questions that you might try to answer with each attempt.

This game takes place over eight rounds, so it’s excellent if you want a short, contained game. It also has a two-player option if you want to try this game out with a loved one.

Dragon Dowser, by HatchlingDM.

Dragon Dowser is a solo journaling RPG using the Carta SRD by Peach Garden Games. You play a mysterious character known as a 'Dowser'. Your aim is to locate abandoned dragon eggs and return them to your Sanctuary. If you succeed before expending your resources, the hatchling you rescue will be reared to change the kingdom forever! 

This is a lovingly crafted game that uses card suits to represent four different kinds of ways your character will be tested, as they interact with different cultures, explore new landscapes, and dea with various conflicts, both human and nature-made.

You’ll travel across a grid of cards that provide you with journaling prompts as you travel. You’ll expend resources to overcome obstacles, looking for a dragon egg, represented by an Ace! Once you return this egg to a sanctuary, you’ll journal about your experience of raising the hatchling. Based on the games you’ve mentioned so far, I think Dragon Dowser is right up your alley.

EDEN, by blasez-faire.

You are Judaiah Clark, the Head Botanical Researcher at the Southern Sector of Eden. You are here for exactly 10 days, and were a last minute choice after the sudden disappearance of ■■■■■■ ■■■■■, the last person to hold this position. You are not here for work. Investigate.

EDEN is a single-page game that takes place over the course of 10 in-game days, with two questions that you will have to answer in your journal for every day. You are expected to write up a report with detailed notes, so much of the extrapolation taken from each pair of questions is going to come from your own imagination. To help with this you might want to come up with names for other characters, draw a map of the Southern Sector, or go into detail about the plants that this research station grows.

One thing is for sure - this is going to be a horror story. If you like games that give you a lot of room to stretch your creative wings, and you also like writing terrible endings for your characters, you might like this game.

Black Mountain Numbers Station, by Simon de Vet.

You wake one morning to the sound of a voice on the radio reading a series of numbers. On impulse, you jot them down. These numbers will become your life.

Black Mountain Numbers Station is a one-page, solo-journaling game about a mysterious broadcast, and about finding patterns in randomness. Using a unique dice mechanic to prompt you to describe your journey, you will tell a short story of obsession, frustration, and discovery.

This game is uses a 6x6 grid with boxes that you’ll need to fill when you roll a pair of dice. You’ll trigger evens when you roll doubles or find a certain pattern on the grid as you fill it, and in both of these cases, you’ll write special journal entries. The game ends when you fill your Frustration track, which symbolizes listening for too long without learning anything new. What exactly you learn, however, is up to you.

Bound, by K Ramstack.

Bound is a single player setting agnostic game about the connection between two people as they travel to a destination through the destruction of the world on a journey they will most likely not complete.

You will create two characters, their relationship to one another, the destruction that haunts them, and the motive for them to move forward.

During the game, you will be asked to write scenes in first person, switching perspectives between characters, and using their personality traits and subjective conceptualizations of each other to answer prompts.

Bound has a single and two-player version, and uses two decks of playing cards, one for each character. Each card will relate to a prompt on the prompt table, but only the highest ranked prompt will be answered. Each prompt will ask a question about the relationship, and how it changes.

If you want a deeply emotional game with a beautiful layout and lovely art, this is the game for you.

The Narrator Paradox, by psychound.

The Narrator Paradox is a one page solo-narrating game where you try to tell a story … if your protagonist will let you. In it, you determine the five acts of your story based on an oracle, then make rolls for your plot beats to see if you can wrangle your protagonist into the prescribed narrative. If you can't, they defy you and take the story into their own hands. Wrestle the story into shape against a rebellious hero, or lose them forever and have to finish the story without them in it. 

Using the Major Arcana of a tarot deck, two six-sided dice and a coin, The Narrator Paradox has a number of different ways that you’ll try to keep your story on track. However, with so much randomness, your protagonist is sure to have a mind of their own. This feels very much in tune with how many writers talk about their characters as if those characters have their own desires, so if you’ve ever related to that you might enjoy this game.

Also Check Out...

My Solo Games tag! I use this tag for every recommendation post specifically for solo games.

[mouwrites]

FNAF Security Breach - Catching Their Eye (Glamrock Bonnie & Daycare Attendant)

Bonnie

He’s not particularly close to any humans

Of course, he’s always polite and jovial with employees, but he doesn’t really cultivate relationships with them

He basically treats them the same as guests

But one day, he finds himself noticing you

It’s your personality that makes you stand out

Specifically, your sense of humor

The little jokes and quips you crack while interacting with guests brings a smile to his face

He actually ends up borrowing some of your material

From then on he keeps an eye (and an ear) on you

At first he’s just looking for a laugh himself, and maybe some inspiration for jokes

He trains himself to catch your voice over the noise of other guests

He learns to love the sound

After a while he decides to approach you

He tells himself it’s to ask official permission to use your material, but secretly he also wants to meet a fellow silly

“You come here often?”

“Kinda. I mean, I live in the walls, so…”

He lights up, absolutely delighted to engage in some comedic banter

He loses track of time talking to you

He even forgets his surroundings, completely oblivious to the children muttering excitedly as they “casually” walk past him several times

Eventually you have to separate though; you’re both still technically on the clock

It’s you that has to break your little bubble; he’s way too enraptured to do it himself

You walk away, hurrying off to your next task

He’s frozen in time while he watches you go

He’s sad to end the interaction, but at the same time he’s buzzing with joy that it even happened in the first place

Daycare Attendant (Sun)

He tries to remember every face he meets

Unfortunately he meets a lot of faces, and he often gets them mixed up

At first, you’re no exception

He calls you by at least three different names before getting it right

But the way you smile when he finally learns your name…

It sticks with him

Your name doesn’t though; he immediately forgets it again

So he gives you a ((very creative)) name in his head: “smiley”

He doesn’t actually call you that though

He just watches from afar, going “there’s smiley!!” in his head whenever he sees you

He does tend to stare, just because he wants to see if he can catch that smile again

One day you catch him, and you smile and wave

He just about short circuits right there

He leaps into the air, bounding around energetically and laughing victoriously

“Smiley smiled at me!!”

He doesn’t really look where he’s going, and eventually he comes to a stop right in front of you

You can’t hold back your laughter at his over the top reaction

From that moment on he dedicates himself to making you smile more often

Daycare Attendant (Moon)

He’s very good at remembering people; his mind is like an iron cage

But he doesn’t interact with people too often

He usually just waits to overhear someone’s name, or for them to tell it to him

It’s a rare occurrence for him to actually ask for someone’s name

So it’s a bit of an occasion when he approaches you to ask for your name

He was enchanted by your appearance, having caught sight of you from afar

He waited patiently for you to come to him; close enough that he could speak to you

Then he introduces himself, apologizing when you jump

“I didn’t mean to startle you. What’s your name?”

“That’s alright. I’m Y/n.”

He nods slowly

He decides that your name is just as beautiful as your appearance

He’ll continue to watch you, mostly from afar, but sometimes he’ll venture closer

You won’t see him in the darkness, but you might hear him whispering your name

It’s a little habit he’s developed; he’ll whisper your name just to hear the sound of it

It reminds him of you and your beauty

Needless to say, very infatuated with you

You’re like a fine jewel to him, something to be admired, something special in a sea of plain faces and names

Thank you so much for reading!! And thank you to the lovely person who suggested this ;D take care <33

[david-talks-sw]

I think it's interesting that - in order to make his "free-thinking Jedi" characters hold any semblance of rationality in their arguments - Dave Filoni needs to resort to artificially dehumanizing the other Jedi and painting them all with the same "we dogmatically worship protocol" brush.

He does this with Huyang in the recent Ahsoka episode.

"Lolz he's so narrow-minded, preachy and by-the-book, unable to think outside the box, just like the Jedi in the Prequels."

My first reaction was being amused at the fact that Filoni had to resort to making the Jedi Order's ideals and rules be embodied by a literal machine for his anti-Jedi headcanon to start making sense.

But then I remembered: Huyang isn't just any droid.

In The Clone Wars, he had a sassy personality, he had a pep in his step, he had a sense of humor...

This character was human in his behavior, he was fun and whimsical.

But now he's been reduced to, I dunno, "Jedi C-3PO"? Basically?

"Ha! He's blunt and unsympathetic because he's a droid, but it's funny because the Jedi were the same, they were training themselves to be tactless, emotionless droids."

And Filoni does this with Mace Windu too, in Tales of the Jedi.

Mace, who brought a lightsaber to the throat of a planetary leader to defend the endangered Zillo Beast...

... and who went waaay past his mandate by mischievously sneaking around Bardottan authorities and breaking into the Queen's quarters because he felt something bad was afoot...

... was reduced to being an almost droid-like, rule-parotting, protocol purist who sticks to his instructions (and is implied to be willing to let a murder go unsolved so he can get a promotion).

I mentioned this at the end of my first post on Luke in The Last Jedi... while changes in personality do happen overtime and can be explained in-universe... if you don't show us that progression and evolution and just leave us without that context, that'll break the suspension of disbelief, for your audience.

Here, we have two characters with a different (almost caricatural) personality than the one they were originally shown to have.

Now... we could resort to headcanons, to make it all fit together.

We could justify Huyang's tone shift 'cause "Order 66 changed him". And we could make explanations about TotJ's Mace:

Being younger and thus more ambitious and a stickler for the rules, and only really becoming more flexible after getting his seat on the Council and gaining more maturity.

Being such a teacher's pet in the episode because we're seeing him through the eyes of a notorious unreliable narrator, Dooku.

There'd be nothing wrong with opting to go with either of those headcanons to cope with this. After all, Star Wars is meant to help you get creative.

But the problem I encounter is that:

Filoni has an anti-Jedi bias, so the above headcanons clearly wouldn't really track with his intended narrative.

We'd be jumping through hoops to extrapolate and fill in what is, essentially, inconsistent characterization, manufactured to make Ahsoka and Dooku shine under a better light.

And that sours whatever headcanon I come up with.

Edit: Also, yeah, as folks have been saying in the tags... wtf is "Jedi protocol"? The term isn't ever mentioned in the movies, I skimmed through dialog transcripts of TCW, never saw it there.

So it's almost as if - if Filoni wasn't draining characters like Mace and Huyang of all humanity and nuance - his point about "the Jedi were too detached and lost their way, but not free-thinkers like Qui-Gon, Dooku and Ahsoka" wouldn't really hold much water.

[pretzel-box]

CHAPTER 5 | Masterlist for AASB here!

Tags: Threats, Violence, not proof read

Words: 5k

Authors Note: I had to rewrite it all in the middle of the night. It's not proof read and can have logic issues, weird sentences or mixed up stuff.

Working with Sebastian was a challenge in itself, a blend of relentless demands and looming danger. His form of labor was relentless, and unfortunately for you, that meant being handed all the menial tasks he didn’t care to do.

"Files," he growled, his focus on the broken flashlight in his hands. The odd position of his hulking figure and the delicate way he maneuvered his claws around the tools was fleeting, yet striking. For a moment, you caught a glimpse of something softer beneath the brutality, but it vanished as quickly as it came. His head snapped toward you, impatience flashing in his eyes.

“You either sort the files or I take them and stuff them into your silly little mouth to gag you. Then you can spend the rest of the day suffocating in the locker."

Threats were his specialty. He was creative with them, always finding some twisted, violent edge to keep you in line. If there was one constant in your work with Sebastian, it was the looming sense of his brutal tendencies, always just beneath the surface.

Working with Sebastian wasn’t just about completing the tasks he shoved your way. It was about observing him. Getting to know the man he never wanted you to see. He shut you out—always. His words were sharp, often wrapped in a threat or some dark humor. Social interaction, for him, was nothing more than a tool, laced with violence. But you learned more about him through what he didn’t say, what he couldn’t hide.

He had no friends. You could see the loneliness gnawing at him, eating away like a hungry animal. It was clear in his posture, in the way he worked late into the night, avoiding sleep. That loneliness—it clung to him, scratched at his mind, likely kept him awake when the world quieted. Being lonely, that was something human, something he tried desperately to deny. He told himself he didn’t need anyone. He didn’t need you.

But it was clear he was anxious. You could feel it like a current, underlying everything he did. There was a paranoid edge to him, a mind that had been on high alert for too long. The madness of survival must’ve driven him to do things—things you didn’t want to imagine. His hands would sometimes shake, and his eyes lingered on certain items, fixated, as if they could reveal something to him. He was scared. Just as scared as you were, but neither of you would ever admit it.

For all his threats and violence, you realized that Sebastian wasn’t just your tormentor. He was trapped too, battling the same fears that haunted you.

And god forbid you to address it in front of him. He will behead you with a rusty piece of scrap metal, cutting your limbs and putting them in an old dirty jar to sell.

“Urbanshades finest idiot on sale.”

Before you knew it, he threw a bag at you, the metal in it hitting a part of your leg, making you whine in pain. It will definitely leave a bruise later on, coloring your flesh.

“Stop whining and go get new stuff.”

This was also a common occurrence, he would send you out, but not without a special item. He always placed a metallic bracelet around your ankle. It was one of Urbanshades creation. Simply enough, it will reveal your location as long as you are far away enough from the scrambler on Sebastian’s back. He can track you down himself easily when you are near him but it's another story when you are in another area. He also warned you, do some weird business and he can give you electronic shocks with it. Yet he never did so far, leaving it an actual mystery if he can.

So, in the end, he had two things. Painter and the bracelet.

You hurried out, the cold metal of the vent that he made you use as an exit, biting against your palms as you crawled through it, the sound of your own breath loud in the confined space. The small shaft felt even tighter with each movement, but you forced yourself forward. You had studied the building’s layout just enough to navigate through the vents, at least in theory.

Each turn brought you closer to the hallway on the other side, where freedom—or at least a chance at it—awaited. You tried not to think about the pounding in your chest or the echo of your hurried breaths. The vent rattled beneath you as you moved, but you knew better than to stop. Stopping meant giving up, and giving up meant facing whatever Sebastian had in store for you. And that wasn’t an option.

The moment you saw the faint sliver of light marking the vent cover at the end, you sped up, the desperation clawing at you as fiercely as the metal beneath your hands.

You pushed the vent cover open as quietly as you could and dropped into the hallway, your knees bending to absorb the impact as you fell down a small bit. The air was cool and heavy, carrying the scent of dust and something faintly metallic. Dim, flickering lights barely illuminated the space, casting long shadows across the floor. You stood still for a moment, letting your eyes adjust, your heart pounding in your ears. This was your chance for some time in indirect freedom, but you had to be smart about it.

The hallway stretched out in both directions, abandoned and eerily quiet. You forced yourself to take a slow breath, shaking off the tension that threatened to paralyze you. You didn’t have a plan—just a vague sense that you needed to gather what you could. Anything useful. Most of the things would end up in Sebastians shop, but a few rare pieces would stay in your secret stash. Over the time where Sebastian let you wander around, you started to stash useful items in a small hole inside a wall. It was covered by a large picture of the ocean, so Sebastian wouldn't find it.

You began walking, your footsteps barely making a sound on the cold floor despite the heavy boots that Urbanshade gave you. The first thing you spotted was a drawer left half-open, its contents scattered across a small desk. You rifled through it quickly, pocketing a few items—a worn-out screwdriver, some loose wires, and a small flashlight. Its battery was low, but it would do.

Moving further down the hallway, you noticed a small alcove where someone had abandoned a toolbox. You knelt down, opening it with a soft creak. Inside were tools, some rusted but still functional—a wrench, pliers, and a pair of wire cutters. You stuffed them into your bag, the weight of them reassuring as you planned to put them in your secret spot.

The sound of a distant clank made you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. You held your breath, waiting for any sign that Sebastian—or someone else—had heard you. But after a long, agonizing pause, the hallway remained silent. You exhaled slowly, your nerves stretched thin.

You pressed forward, passing broken machinery, old filing cabinets, and the occasional door that led to rooms too dark to explore. Your hands trembled slightly as you picked up more small items—batteries, a bundle of cables, anything that might help. Each find felt like a tiny victory, a step closer to surviving whatever this place held.

But in the back of your mind, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Sebastian was always watching.

As you continued down the dimly lit hallway, the flickering overhead lights began to pulse more erratically. You barely had time to react before, with a loud crackle, they all went out at once, plunging you into near-total darkness. Your heartbeat quickened as you stood still, holding your breath in the sudden silence. The lights were an indicator for danger, your life was now at risk based on the logic you picked up.

Then, just ahead, a few small lamps on the ceiling began to flicker on, one by one, their pale, cold light guiding you down another hallway. It felt deliberate, like you were being led somewhere on purpose. Warily, you followed the lights, each step quieter than the last, your grip tightening on the small flashlight in your hand—though it felt useless in this strangely guided path. You had the feeling that it wasn't the smartest thing to do and yet your feet carried you through it all out of pure curiosity.

The hallway twisted and turned, eventually leading you to a large metal door that was slightly ajar. You pushed it open slowly, the heavy metal groaning in protest. Inside, the room was massive, the walls stretching higher than you expected. What caught your attention, though, was the far wall, covered entirely with televisions of different sizes, each screen reflecting dim light off the walls.

At first, the televisions remained dark, save for the occasional flicker of static. You stepped closer, unsure if you should be there at all. Then, one by one, the screens started to come to life. Some flashed erratically, while others lingered on a static-filled image before cutting off again. You watched, transfixed, as more screens flickered on, creating a patchwork of glowing light and sound. The images were unclear—just distorted patterns, numbers, and strange symbols.

Suddenly, with a loud hum, all the screens snapped into place, merging into one enormous, seamless picture. The static and symbols dissolved, leaving behind a single, vivid image: a digital face.

An unfamiliar face, though digitized and slightly distorted, stared back at you from the giant wall of screens. Painter's expression was calm but somehow felt more intense, the lines of his digital form flickering ever so slightly as if he were barely holding himself together. His eyes, glowing with an eerie light, locked onto you through the screens.

"Hello," his voice crackled through the speakers, the sound distorted but unmistakably his. "I’ve been waiting.”

Painter’s voice cut through the dim hum of the room, and as soon as the sound registered, your brain was flooded with memories—fragments of conversations, moments of strained camaraderie, the familiar yet unsettling presence of this digital entity. It dawned on you, with a sinking feeling, that this wasn’t just some trick or illusion. This was Painter.

On the surface, his face looked simple, almost innocent in its digital form, but the weight of his presence was suffocating. There was a quiet malice radiating from him, something that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. It was a different kind of danger from Sebastian. With Sebastian, you always knew what to expect—the violence, the threats, the twisted game of dominance. As frightening as he was, there was a predictability to him.

But Painter? Painter was a mystery. The way his eyes glowed from the screens, the subtle distortion in his voice, all hinted at something darker, something more calculating. You weren’t sure what he wanted or what he was capable of. And that uncertainty gnawed at you.

Sebastian wouldn’t kill you—not yet, anyway. You were somewhat useful to him. But Painter... you didn’t know if he operated by the same rules. His digital form meant he could be everywhere and nowhere, watching you, controlling things behind the scenes. You had no idea what his true intentions were, and that made him all the more dangerous.

The silence stretched between you, his digital face watching you unblinkingly from the massive wall of televisions. The room felt colder, the air thick with tension. You swallowed hard, your mind racing to piece together what he wanted, why he had led you here.

"I see you’ve been... busy," Painter's voice crackled again, softer now but no less unsettling. His expression didn’t change, but you could feel the weight of his gaze, as if he was studying you, sizing you up for something yet to come. "Is it fun? Are you enjoying yourself, running around like a little mouse? I must admit…You are truly disgusting."

The question hung in the air, the tone more reflective than threatening. But still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking a fine line, teetering between being useful or expendable in his eyes.

“Sebastian let me—”

“Sebastian. Sebastian! SEBASTIAN ISN'T THE ONLY ONE IN CHARGE. Don't think you get a free pass for survival just because he has fun playing with you. You are just temporary, a distraction, a nuisance. Don't you DARE to think that you could wiggle your way to freedom, not when I AM TRAPPED LIKE THIS. YOU WILL NOT LEAVE AS LONG AS I HAVE MY EYES ON YOU. I AM THE ONE THAT HAS YOU RIGHT IN HIS HAND!”

Painter's voice was no longer just unsettling—it was saturated with hatred, every syllable sharp with venom. The usual mechanical distortion of his digital form couldn't mask the intensity of the emotion behind it. His tone, rising and falling with an eerie unpredictability, seemed to buzz with something far darker, something that sent a chill racing down your spine.

It wasn’t just dislike or anger; it was pure bloodlust, raw and palpable, like a knife hovering inches from your skin. Painter hated you with a ferocity you hadn’t fully grasped until this moment. The malice in his voice threatened to reach through the screens, as if his digital form was barely containing the rage inside him.

Yet his tone snapped back, to sweet and innocent. “You see, f r i e n d. You are in d a n g e r. Sebastian is not your savior, no, he will be the one that slaughters you. He is temporarily blinded by your existence, but oh, don't you w o r r y. In the end, he will free me and not y o u.”

You shook your head, trying to push away the growing fear gnawing at you, but it was too late—Painter's words had already dug deep, filling your mind with dread. Your heartbeat quickened, each pulse loud in your ears as his laughter rang out, echoing through the room. It was a chilling sound, distorted and mechanical, yet filled with a sickening glee. The lights flickered erratically, casting strange shadows that made everything seem more sinister.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, the laughter stopped. The screens snapped to black, plunging the room into absolute darkness. For a moment, you stood frozen, the silence pressing in on you like a weight, your breath shallow and rapid as you struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Painter was gone, vanished without a trace.

You barely had time to process it before the lights flickered back on, as if nothing had happened at all. The room looked the same—the screens were still there, silent and lifeless, the heavy air still thick with tension—but something had shifted. The sudden absence of Painter's presence left you disoriented, unsure of what would happen next.

Your legs felt unsteady as you scanned the room, half-expecting him to reappear, waiting for the next wave of malice. But all that remained was the faint hum of electricity, the room eerily still. It was as if the entire encounter had been some kind of twisted nightmare, one that left you feeling more vulnerable than before.

But you knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

“Did I scare you?” a new voice echoed through the speakers. It was female, calm, and unnervingly polite. “Pardon me, little bunny. Let me introduce myself.”

The voice was different from Painter’s; no malice dripped from it, no distorted laughter followed. Instead, it was sharp, precise, and deliberate, every word measured.

“This is Professor Doctor Sasha Mariya Lazarski speaking, lead researcher of Urbanshade's 4th research department,” she continued, her tone holding a faint trace of amusement, as though she was speaking to a child who had wandered somewhere they shouldn't. “It was quite troublesome to track you down, but I assume you’ve found your target?”

Her voice lingered in the air like a cold mist. Urbanshade. The name sent a chill down your spine, reminding you of things you had tried not to think about—things you wished you could forget. The cold clinical nature of her voice told you this was no casual encounter. She had been watching, waiting, and she was here for a reason.

The silence stretched for a moment, as if she were giving you time to gather your thoughts—or perhaps relishing in the tension she’d created.

"You haven't forgotten your goal, have you?" Dr. Lazarski continued, her voice still eerily polite. "Now, let’s discuss the matter at hand. Since we couldn't reach out to you for a…rather long while…I used the chance to check on our precious little bunny. The scrambler is still on, and we can't have that.”

Her tone shifted, becoming more gentle, almost like a mother scolding her child with an unsettling mix of patience and authority. It was unnerving, the way she maintained that softness, as though she wasn't speaking about something so dire.

“You’ve been quite slippery, little bunny,” Dr. Lazarski said, her voice laced with a faint sigh of amusement. “For a while, we lost track of you. But I know now that’s thanks to him—the device that Sebastian carries, isn’t it?”

Her words settled heavily in the air. You had managed to evade them, temporarily disappearing from their watchful eyes because of that device. The one Sebastian had kept close, something you hadn’t thought much about until now. But now it was clear: that device was the key to everything. And they wanted it—wanted you to shut it down.

“It’s quite clever, really,” she continued, her voice dripping with gentle condescension. “A temporary blind spot in our systems, a little trick of his. But it won’t last, you know that, don’t you? You’ll have to shut it down sooner or later. It’s only a matter of time.”

The calmness in her voice made it worse. She wasn’t threatening you, not directly, but her words made it clear that they had a plan, and you were running out of options. Each second you held onto that device was borrowed time, and they were watching closely, waiting for the moment when you would slip.

“Now, my dear,” she said, her voice almost soothing. “You’ve come this far. Let’s not make things more difficult for you, hm? Be a good little bunny and do what needs to be done.”

That last sentence sent a cold shiver down your spine. The way she spoke, it was as if your fate had already been sealed, as though there was no other option but to follow her lead.

“I have a gift to help you,” Dr. Lazarski’s voice continued, her tone never losing that eerie, motherly calm. “On the third floor is a hallway leading to a temporary research lab. You’ll find some of my old belongings there, including a handy-dandy keycard. You will need it.”

Her words lingered, the promise of a gift laced with something far more sinister. She was offering help, but it was hard to shake the feeling that it came with strings attached—strings that could easily tighten around your neck.

You swallowed hard, the dim light of the room doing little to ease the knot of tension building in your chest. This wasn’t an offer out of kindness; it was a carefully laid path, one that she fully expected you to walk down. The keycard could be a way out—or a trap. But did you have any other choice?

"Don’t keep me waiting, little bunny," she added softly, as if she could sense your hesitation. "Time is running out and your father grows worried. Hate to tell him that his dear child might be…dead!~"

The keycard could be your key to survival—not just to navigate the labyrinth that Sebastian kept you trapped in, but also to open new paths, ones that might lead to freedom. It offered possibilities, but with them came risks. You could bypass the locked areas, gain a step ahead of Sebastian, maybe even find a way out. But you knew deep down, escaping the Blackside was not as simple as finding an open door.

Dr. Lazarski’s voice, soft and coaxing, had made it clear. If you wanted to escape, you’d have to play by her rules, follow Urbanshade’s instructions. There was no room for rebellion, no safe path where you could make a break for it. Escaping meant tracking down Z-13, deactivating the scrambler, and retrieving the crystal. It was all part of their plan.

But there was a grim reality in this twisted game. Completing her tasks might not guarantee your freedom. Even if you managed to find the crystal, shut down the scrambler, and get past Sebastian, you’d still be caught in Urbanshade’s web. They didn’t care about you; you were just a tool in their grander scheme. And a tool could easily be discarded once its use was over.

Still, the keycard was a means to an end, a potential weapon to use against Sebastian if things turned sour. You couldn’t deny its potential value. But each step you took down this path brought you closer to Dr. Lazarski’s cold, calculating grip, and that chilled you to the core.

You took a breath, weighing your options. Whatever choice you made, there was no turning back.

With a deep breath, you moved your feet, leaving the dark room behind. Dr. Lazarski's directions echoed in your mind, the path ahead as clear as it was unnerving. You needed the keycard—there was no other way if you wanted any chance of navigating through the facility or dealing with Sebastian. The third floor, the temporary research lab. That was your target.

As you made your way through the dimly lit hallways, the faint hum of electricity filled the silence. Each step felt heavier than the last, your heart beating in time with your footsteps. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched, that at any moment, something—or someone—could be lurking around the next corner.

The stairwell leading to the third floor loomed ahead, its metal door slightly ajar. You hesitated for a second, glancing over your shoulder as if expecting Painter to reappear or Sebastian to emerge from the shadows. But the hallway remained empty, the stillness pressing in on you.

Pushing the door open, the creaking metal echoed through the stairwell. The climb felt longer than it should have, each step a reminder of how far you were from safety. But you kept moving, determined. Reaching the third floor, you stepped into a narrow hallway, the air noticeably cooler.

This was it.

The lab was just ahead, down the hall where the light flickered sporadically. You could feel a knot tightening in your stomach. Dr. Lazarski’s promise of a “gift” lingered in your mind, and you couldn’t shake the nagging doubt that came with it. But you had no choice now.

You moved forward, ready to see what awaited you.

You stepped into the hallway, the flickering lights casting erratic shadows on the walls as you approached the door to the lab. The air here felt stale, as if no one had been in this part of the building for a long time. Your hand hovered over the handle, and with a soft creak, the door swung open, revealing the research lab.

It looked as though it had been left in a hurry, abandoned mid-experiment. The room was large but cluttered, with overturned chairs and papers scattered across the floor, some of them crumpled and torn. The dim light revealed stacks of old folders and documents, some stained with what looked like coffee, others torn as though someone had hastily searched through them before fleeing. A few cabinets were left open, revealing rows of empty shelves that once held important equipment or files now long gone.

In the center of the room stood a large metal table, covered in dusty instruments—scalpels, syringes, and strange-looking vials filled with murky, discolored liquids. The lab equipment, once precise and organized, was in disarray. Broken glass littered one corner of the room, where a microscope lay overturned, its lenses cracked.

The walls were lined with tall, metal shelves that held rusted equipment and various electronic devices. Some screens flickered with static, while others were completely dead, their once bright surfaces now covered in dust. On one of the shelves, you noticed a row of petri dishes, some of them still filled with moldy substances that had long since decayed.

It was clear that whoever had worked here had left in a rush. Loose cables dangled from the ceiling where overhead lights had once been connected, and a nearby computer screen was frozen, stuck on an error message as if it had been hastily abandoned mid-task.

At the far end of the room, amidst the chaos, was a small desk. On top of it lay what you had come for—a sleek, metallic keycard, sitting on top of a stack of disorganized files. It gleamed faintly in the flickering light, out of place in the otherwise neglected lab.

You crossed the room carefully, your eyes scanning every shadow, every corner, half-expecting something—or someone—to be watching. The place felt wrong, as if whatever had driven them out in such haste still lingered, waiting.

Your fingers closed around the keycard, the metal cool to the touch. For a moment, you stood there, staring at it, knowing it was more than just a key—it was a tool, a step toward something larger, something both freeing and terrifying. But this wasn’t over yet. There was still Z-13, the scrambler, the crystal.

You pocketed the keycard, your mind already racing with possibilities and plans. The lab remained silent, a graveyard of forgotten experiments and lost time. It was time to leave before the ghosts of this place caught up to you. Your next step was a mistake. The floor groaned under your weight, cracking until it gave way, sending you plunging through into a body of water on what appeared to be the second floor.

Green torches floated eerily in the water, their ghostly glow cutting through the darkness and guiding your way. You followed them, each stroke through the cool water feeling heavier than the last, but the flickering lights kept pulling you forward. As you broke the surface, you were met not with relief, but with an unsettling familiarity. The room around you was nothing extraordinary—just another plain office space with bland walls and stark furniture—but the tension in the air was undeniable. You recognized it immediately, every detail, every corner. It was a place you'd been before, a place that held memories you wished you could forget.

Your heart sank as the realization dawned on you: the path you had followed led straight back to Sebastian. The subtle dread that crept over you grew stronger with each passing second, as if the room itself was preparing you for the inevitable encounter. You knew this wasn’t just a coincidence. It never was with Sebastian.

The familiar clanging of a vent being kicked open echoed through the sterile office, the sound reverberating off the walls like a warning. Your pulse quickened, knowing exactly what that meant—you were close. Too close to your so-called "temporary home," Sebastian's shop.

Before you could gather your thoughts, his voice pierced the silence, rough and impatient. "YOU BETTER MOVE BEFORE I DECIDE TO LEAVE YOU IN THE HALLWAY!" His angry scream sent a chill down your spine. It wasn't just a threat; with Sebastian, it was a promise. You knew better than to test his temper—he had little patience for delays, and you were already pushing it.

You hurried forward, heart pounding, knowing that whatever lay ahead wasn’t just another task, but another trial in the long list of dangers that came with being anywhere near Sebastian's world.

"I'm back!" you shouted hastily, making your way toward the vent, arms full with the items you'd collected. You scrambled through the narrow passage, the cold metal pressing against your skin as you hurried to avoid another one of Sebastian's outbursts.

When you finally popped out on the other side, you were immediately met by his towering figure, his presence looming over you like a shadow. His fluorescent eyes, glowing unnaturally in the dim light, locked onto you, their intensity sending a shiver down your spine. "Took you long enough…” he muttered.

"I'm back!" you shouted hastily, making your way toward the vent, arms full with the items you'd collected. You scrambled through the narrow passage, the cold metal pressing against your skin as you hurried to avoid another one of Sebastian's outbursts.

When you finally popped out on the other side, you were immediately met by his towering figure, his presence looming over you like a shadow. His fluorescent eyes, glowing unnaturally in the dim light, locked onto you, their intensity sending a shiver down your spine.

"Took you long enough... bunny," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm, yet laced with an unsettling edge. The nickname felt more like a mockery than anything else, a reminder of how he viewed you—small, fragile, and easily caught.

Befriending Sebastian was the exit. Track him down, turn of the device he owns and get the crystal.

"Good work, for once," Sebastian muttered, his voice oozing condescension. His large hand landed on your head, rough and heavy, as he ruffled your hair like you were some kind of pet. The gesture was far from affectionate, more of a reminder of your place beneath him.

"Finally useful for once. And yet, not smart," he continued, his fluorescent eyes narrowing as he studied you. "You could've kept it—used it as a guaranteed exit." His words dripped with mockery, as if he were testing you, waiting to see if you’d flinch or reveal something in your expression.

You kept your face steady, masking the frustration boiling beneath the surface. He wasn’t wrong—you could’ve used the keycard for your own escape, but playing it that way would have burned bridges you couldn’t afford to lose just yet. For now, you had to endure the humiliation, take the hit, and let Sebastian think he was the one in control.

In your mind, the game wasn’t over. You’d make sure the next move was yours.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

the thing is. why bring Rose back for this finale. she didn't particularly do much other than standing around and looking pretty. I assume there'll be more of her for the second part. I stand by my original assertion from the star beast that it doesn't make sense that she can just 'give up' the alien DNA she was born with. my point back then was that it would be fun if she could regenerate, and ended up becoming the timeless child herself, thus making the Doctor's entire existence a very fun paradox AND also canonizing the 'half human, on my mother's side' line from the 8th doctor's movie (my beloved) (because Donna was only half human whether she knew it or not).

HOWEVER.

all the susan-baiting is really getting to me. I want our weird little granddaughter back. they canonized the fact that the Doctor doesn't actually know who her parents were. and I REMEMBER. that Susan's original gallifreyan name was Rose. well, their language's equivalent of it. that's how Rose Tyler got her name, it was meant to be a cute little easter egg, the first classic companion and the first new who companion sharing a name. so walk with me. the weird girl daughter of Donna Noble, who grew up on earth but never fit in there, who has the Doctor's DNA woven into her being, and access to a yardis, and can in this scenario regenerate...coming across a younger version of the her father/uncle, introducing herself as Rose (which translates to gallifreyan, I really don't feel like looking up the spelling rn I'm sorry it started with an A), the doctor can recognize her- as family, he thinks, not knowing its a spark of him, their shared mind. she knows about how risky spoiling the future would be, she doesn't know if he has siblings and he looks older than she's ever seen him, so she says she's his granddaughter instead of his niece. daughter. him. she's part time lord. she lives longer than her human family. the Doctor is all she has left and she wants to be with him even if it isn't a him that knows her yet. she's heard the phrase 'timey wimey' before, and she's a smart and careful girl. she finds she doesn't fit in on gallifrey any more than she ever fit in on earth. the Doctor knows exactly what that feels like. they travel. when her human friend renames her Susan, she likes it a lot. feels like when she changed her name the first time. freeing, empowering, becoming. feels like the new name fits her new life better. Rose has a long dead family but Susan has her grandfather. the part of her that is her mother and father, though, still craves human connection. the love and fascination with humanity that she inherited from the Doctor is still there. she tells him all about humans and he takes her to visit them more and more to humor her. she ends up fostering his love for earth that will one day define him AND lead to her creation. she accidentally coins the name tardis the same way the doctor will accidentally invent a banana daiquiri a few centuries too early. he just thinks she's creative and silly. a very dear child. odd and bizarre to her classmates at school, but it's nowhere near as bad as it was the first time around. sometimes she even goes to see a younger Wilf. he's somehow exactly how she remembers him as an old man. she's so grateful they're in the 60's though, because if she ever has to look into the eyes of a Donna Noble who didn't know her, she thinks she may actually die. but the Doctor- he IS enough. he is still part of her, part of her mother, even if he doesn't realize it. she can't help but worry over his health, even knowing he lives long past this, because she got so used to helping his older self in his retirement. she knows him better than he knows himself. she'd do anything for him, and she knows he'd do anything for her.

she just never thought leaving her was something he'd do, though.

[pariahsparadise]

ye of little faith | e. p.

nav. | m.list

summary: eustace doesn't believe that edmund has a girlfriend.

wc: 800

pairings: edmund pevensie x fem!reader

warnings: VERY unedited. also it's 1am and i just wrote this in a burst of inspiration, so please don't expect it to be good.

a/n: i don't really know if this will make sense to anyone lol, i think i wrote it in a confusing way, but hopefully it's okay. it's mostly eustace's pov, i wanted to try something new. also, this exact scenario has been in my head for months now.

“There’s no way he has a girlfriend,” Eustace tells Lucy, barging into the room. She immediately knows who he’s talking about, able to hear Edmund on the phone downstairs, voice softer than it usually is, taking the tone he automatically opts for when he speaks to Y/N.

“Why?” Lucy asks, half-heartedly entertaining her annoying cousin while she thumbs through the pages of her book. Unfortunately for her, Eustace Scrubb brightens at the attention, straightening up and launching into a rather well-thought out spiel.

“First of all, it’s Edmund we’re talking about. He’s awkward, way too hostile and bad-tempered. Not to mention, he’s barely of average height, and his hair? Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Y/N likes it,” Lucy says mildly, earning a scoff from Eustace.

“Y/N.” he says with disbelieving scorn, “As if she actually exists. You expect me to believe that a woman as beautiful and intelligent as you lot claim she is would actually be interested in Edmund? And so interested that she calls and writes to him multiple times a week? Yeah, right. I bet that Ed’s hired an escort to help him forget about how lonely he actually is. Or he’s paying some poor girl to play the part of a caring partner.” Eustace has had many such theories, the more creative ones dealing with blackmail and holding family members hostage, but so far, monetary imbursements seem to be the most likely.

“Sure, Eustace,” Lucy mumbles, having checked out of the conversation a while ago. He shakes his head at her disinterest, convinced that he is right, and leaves the room, muttering to himself disbelievingly.

A few days later, a painting gushes out water and swallows them whole, so poor Eustace, although having taunted his cousins with his skepticisms about the magical land of Narnia and called them fools for believing in the same, is forced to confront that he was wrong. 

Eustace is soaking wet and miserable, still slightly panic infused. He can’t believe his eyes, convinced that he hallucinated the last fifteen minutes. Sitting on the ship, the Dawn Treader, he watches as his cousins are recognised as King and Queen. He’s related to royalty. 

With a humorous snort, he realises that this is more believable than Edmund Pevensie having a girlfriend.

Hell, even the talking rat next to him is more believable.

He goes to voice the same, but is distracted by a joyous whoop descending from the sky, followed by a splash in the ocean. Eustace is too busy trying to catch a glimpse of the figure underwater to notice the hopeful glances Edmund and Lucy exchange, the faint tremour in Edmund’s hands as he snatches a telescope from a passing crew member, getting a clearer view.

“It is her!” Ed cries, only barely held back from jumping overboard by Caspian, who laughs fondly at the Just King. Eustace tries to hear what the Prince tells Edmund, but all noise turns to mush the second he sees the young woman surface, a brilliant smile on her face.

At first glance, he thinks it’s a siren. He’s heard stories about their enchanting beauty and ethereal forms, and Eustace does genuinely believe that this woman is too gorgeous to be human like he is. As she swims closer, though, and the ship's crew help pull her onto the ship, Eustace notices the lack of a tail. And though her hair is soaked and strewn across her face, and her clothes suction themselves to her skin, none of it takes away from her radiance.

It also doesn’t distract him from the fact that she’s walking right towards him. 

Eustace’s mouth goes bone dry, and he gulps nervously, afraid she’ll talk to him and afraid she won’t, when suddenly, Edmund swoops past him and towards the woman. He snatches her up in a passionate embrace, hands securing her to him as he twirls her around in sheer delight.

When they kiss, chaste but heady, Eustace decides that he has never actually known anything about anything.

He’s scouring the sky for flying pigs when he hears Edmund’s self-satisfied voice behind him, “And this, my very real girlfriend, Y/N, would be my cousin, Eustace Scrubb.”

“How do you do?” Eustace says weakly, extending a hand, trying his hardest not to faint when you take it.

“Pretty well. If only Edmund would- what was it again?- stop holding my family hostage, I think I’d be great,” you rib amiably, throwing back one of Eustace’s earliest theories back into his now scarlet face.

“No, darling, you’ve got it wrong, I’ve currently got your dogs kidnapped and ready to be shipped to the pound, remember?” Edmund joins in on the fun, his smile widening as he earns a couple of chuckles from you, and a darker flush from Eustace’s cheeks. 

Eustace Scrubb, though unwilling, is forced to admit, after watching the two of you interact, gravitating towards each other naturally, at ease with the love that surrounds you, his cousin’s eyes brighter than he’s ever seen them, that it is very believable for Edmund Pevensie to be dating Y/N L/N after all. 

[yan-lorkai]

I thought of a Reader who is a demon who only takes revenge and likes to hide in paintings? They have a random encounter with Black Butler characters. It's up to you to choose the character and whether they are Yandere or not

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel has several paintings on his walls, mainly in his office, simple paintings of funeral scenes - a glimpse of his future when his soul is consumed by Sebastian. What's strange is the shadow he sees sneaking through his paintings, running from one painting to the next without caring that he sees you. He is curious, and above all, he has studied the occult to be prepared for it. He knows what you are, he recognizes the signs. But he does not fear you, there is no reason to. He can call Sebastian at any time.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Instead, he talks to you, lets you tell him whatever you want while you fall for his word games, revealing more than you should. So you're a revenge demon? He understands the urgency and the yearning for revenge, revenge is all he's known for years. However, make no mistake, if he is your victim, Ciel will not fall so easily into your hands.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Or, if you're just spending time in his paintings, wandering the barren, dreary plains to rest for a few weeks, perhaps Ciel will feel compelled to buy you a few more paintings. Few things entertain the young Earl Phantomhive, but your dry, vengeful sense of humor certainly makes him laugh - if only in his own mind. He might get attached to you if you stay for too long, you better go away soon, otherwise, he might as well trap you and keep you as his little pet demon.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Sebastian is able to sense your presence as soon as you step foot in the mansion. Although he doesn't know exactly what painting you're hiding in, he's a diligent and intelligent butler, and he'll find you soon enough. There are different demons and he knows your type very quickly, but what's a cute and vengeful little thing like you are doing here? Seeking revenge? Against who? Sebastian can't allow you to touch the young master or the servants, but anyone else he wouldn't mind.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He's a knowledgeable demon and has experience with humans and their creative minds, so Sebastian enjoys exchanging ideas with you about different forms of revenge and torture. It's like a hobby. If someone caught him talking to a painting, they'd think Sebastian was just working too hard and would try to lighten his workload - not that would work, they're all clumsy, but the thought is funny.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Demons aren't friendly creatures but it's always good to keep allies by your side. He let you take revenge on any guest his young master wants out of his way, he only ask that you let him watch you kill and feast on poor victim. Sebastian just know that will be an incredible sight.

[fellthemarvelous]

Invisible scars

(TW: religious trauma)

Looking at me, you wouldn't know that I've survived religious trauma. The marks of religious trauma are seldom visible. In fact, I had no idea for the longest time that I had religious trauma (I thought it was a thing that happened to other people). I simply spent decades questioning the reasons I felt like I was so broken on in the inside. I kept trying to figure out what I was doing wrong and why I never felt happy or like I was never able to connect to anyone. I had no idea that my experience with the church as a small child is what shaped me into the anxiety-ridden, majorly depressed disaster creature I am today.

I spent 12 years learning inside of Catholic schools. It has taken me more than 20 years to process and deconstruct, and I am always going to be a work in progress. I was brainwashed into believing the very worst about myself, and I was always just beyond saving because I had the misfortune of being a woman in a church that taught us that women experience pain during childbirth as a natural consequence of Eve eating the apple, which is why they enjoy making us suffer in the first place. They taught us that Adam ate the apple because Eve seduced him, so even though Adam also ate the apple, his sin still wasn't as bad as Eve's because she did it first and used sex to get him to do the same. They placed the blame for Original Sin squarely on Eve and thus onto every single girl who entered the church. If a boy did something to me that I didn't like, it's probably because I did something to provoke him first.

Do you know what I learned to do at a very young age just to be able to cope with that?

I learned to use humor to deflect when I was struggling. I smile when I don't want people to know I'm sad. I laugh at inappropriate times, especially when I'm uncomfortable. I learned to bottle up all of my emotions because expressing anything other than happiness is bad. I learned to compartmentalize. I taught myself how to pull out the right emotion for the right occasion because I was always striving to be who I thought everyone else wanted me to be. It was exhausting.

In the midst of all of this, I'm trying to figure out which parts of me are really me and which parts of me are things that were put into my head. If you've experienced indoctrination, you know what I'm talking about. They pulled us apart as small children and placed us in specific boxes and told us that deviating from the norm was bad.

Crowley is a fallen angel. His change from angel to demon is drastic on the outside.

You know he fell and that his wings turned black and he ended up in a pool of boiling sulfur. It's the reason Crowley is so easy to sympathize with. He suffered unfairly because of arbitrary rules that deemed him unforgivable. He's accepted that part of himself. He's clever and creative and it has helped him find ways to get out of doing his job for centuries. Hell doesn't care how jobs get done just as long as someone does them, and at this point humanity is doing more to damn themselves than the demons are able to keep up with. They're tired and overworked. Hell is overpopulated even though it should be infinite in size. Crowley wants no part of that system because he sees it for what it is, just as he sees Heaven for what it is. He has the marks to prove that he is one of the damned, but that has given him all the perspective he needs to see that both sides are fucked up and toxic and "irredeemable" (just like him). He has yet to fully let go of the hold Heaven has over him because of how badly he got hurt.

Aziraphale is still an angel.

He never fell, and he doesn't know why. He has lied to God. He has lied to Gabriel repeatedly. He lies to protect Crowley. He lies to protect humanity.

Remember, Crowley and Aziraphale started off in the same place.

They both started off as angels who were created to do God's bidding. Aziraphale is the one who told Crowley what he'd heard about everything shutting down in 6,000 years. He was simply trying to make conversation. He didn't think it was something Crowley would object to. Angels were just supposed to go along with God's plans, but Crowley had a different opinion and was vocal about it. Where did Aziraphale get his information in the first place? Why does nobody ever ask this question?

Aziraphale knows Heaven is toxic. He's not blind. We need to move past this idea that because he still has love for God that he doesn't know Heaven is fucked up. He never fell, and it's something he still fears because who the hell doesn't fear the thought of eternal torment, especially if you know it's real? God has never cast him out of Heaven though and he doesn't know why. It's probably something that hangs over his head like the Sword of Damocles.

Letting go is not an easy task. Aziraphale has always been an angel. He didn't have his identity ripped from him the same way that Crowley did. Crowley had to adapt to a brand new way of existing because he was cast out of Heaven.

Crowley's trauma is evident on the outside. Aziraphale's trauma is hidden on the inside. Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't there.

Crowley was an angel and then he was a demon, but he doesn't want to be labeled as either.

Aziraphale has only ever known how to be an angel. He's only ever known the ways of Heaven.

I'm only in my early 40s. It has taken me 20+ years to undo 12 years of religious abuse. Aziraphale is immortal. He and Crowley have abandoned their jobs, but four years in the space of millions isn't a lot. No one overcomes indoctrination in four years. Especially when you had millions of years of blind obedience indoctrinated into you. It simply does not work that way no matter how much you want to believe it can.

It has taken me more than two decades to learn how to stop hating myself. I still have no idea how to love myself, but it's something I'm trying to learn.

My entire identity was wrapped up in what the church told me it would be. Once I fully denounced it and all organized religion, I found out I had no idea who I was. No one had prepared me for a life outside of this one very specific identity and role that I was expected to fill based on a very specific box I was placed into.

I still struggle with black and white concepts. It's hard to unlearn when you have no other basis for comparison, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. It means that these changes do not and will not ever happen overnight.

The fall didn't just affect the demons though. It affected the angels as well. Look at how tightly wound the angels are. They're always trying to do the good thing, but they have no idea what that actually means, and you realize this when Uriel asks The Metatron if they had done something wrong. They are scared of making mistakes, but none of them know what they are supposed to be doing since Gabriel disrupted the status quo. You can see they are unsure of themselves and of each other. The concept of free will is so foreign to them, but Aziraphale showed all of them that it was in their grasp when he allowed Gabriel and Beelzebub to decide where to go so they could be together.

It takes a lot of audacity (and sheer ignorance) to dismiss Aziraphale as power-hungry and abusive.

Aziraphale did nothing to punish Gabriel and Beelzebub. He allowed them to leave because they were in love with each other, and he knows what that feels like. He thought he was about to get the same fate with Crowley until The Metatron showed up and refused to take no for an answer.

He doesn't want to fix Heaven because he thinks it's perfect. If he thought it was perfect he wouldn't want to fix it.

Aziraphale is going back into the Lion's Den. He knows what he's going up against. He's been humiliated and belittled and abused by Heaven for thousands of years.

His scars are there even though you can't see them, and he hides his pain with humor and silliness.

When I see people advocating for Aziraphale to suffer even more because they don't think he has suffered enough, I find myself sitting back in one of those classrooms in Catholic school being told that I deserve the bad things that happen to me because I somehow failed to measure up to some impossible metric. The cruelty of that mindset aimed at Aziraphale is kinda the reason Crowley hates Heaven in the first place because he's been there too.

And as someone who is processing religious trauma, it's disheartening to see people say that because Aziraphale has yet to fully let go of Heaven that he deserves harsher treatment. Crowley would definitely not agree with that sentiment.

[dreamywriter143]

Breathtaking

Status: Part 2 of ‘Breathtaking’

Paring: Neteyam x Human Reader (Y/n)

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of death, Romance, Humor, Jealousy.

Summary: Y/n finally realizes why she is able to breathe the dense Padnorian air. It was the will of Ewya herself. Does also that mean her fateful encounter with Neteyam was also meant to be?

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: Thank you so much for the AMAZING feedback for ‘Breathtaking’! I’m so shocked with how much you guys loved it! Please keep in mind I’m still new to writing about Na’vi x HumanReader. So please excuse the horrible writing! I hope you guys enjoy!

———————————————————————

Spider glances at the rustling forest around him, his smile dissipating at the sound of rapid footsteps that only continue to get closer to where he had crouched down. He nervously glances at Kiri noticing how she was immersed in the flower she had brought him to show, not realizing the disturbance lingering near.

“Are you expecting anyone?” Spider whispers, standing up to his full height. He slides his bow over his shoulder whilst gripping it tightly. Kiri, who was crouching down in the midst of inspecting the beautiful flower closely , stands up at his tone, her eyes filled with worry.

“No, only Neteyam and Lo’ak know where we are” she murmurs, her ears standing straight as she stares at the source of the rustling. Reaching for her knife around her holster she takes a tentative step forward, Spider moves to stand in front of her, holding his breath in anticipation.

All of a sudden Neteyam hurriedly bursts through the bushes coming to a halt in front of the tensed duo, his face flushed with color as he desperately tries to catch his breath. Spider and Kiri let out sighs of relief lowering their weapons of choice.

“Neteyam you Skxawng! We could have killed you!” Kiri groans in annoyance, her eyes rolling at how her brother acted so stupidly which could have resulted in an injury. He was usually so careful with his footing, barely making a sound.

Neteyam lets out a breathless chuckle, his eyes dancing between Spider and Kiri. He was slightly hunched over, as if cradling something in his arms.

“S-sorry, I was quite-”

“Y/N!!!!”

Spider immediately recognized the messy locks of hair that laid against Neteyam’s arm.

Neteyam had cradled the girl close to his chest, protectively nestled within his large arms. Upon hearing her name, the girl looks up, the flush red color of her cheeks giving away how embarrassed she felt to be in the large Na’vi’s boys arms.

“S-Spider!” She rushes out, her eyes filled with relief when she sees the boy she had been scurrying the whole forest floor for. Kiri glances between the two, her posture completely relaxing knowing it wasn't a stranger.

Neteyam crouches down, his knee resting on the ground below as he helps the girl stand. Her legs wobble as she grabs onto his bicep for balance quickly whispering an apology. Neteyam offers a soft smile, holding out his hand for further support if needed.

“Y/n?” Kiri asks, peering down at the smaller female. Spider had always spoken of a girl living with him at base camp, but due to the fact she never actually ‘saw’ the girl over her many visits to the lab, Kiri chalked it up to Spider having a creative imagination.

“Y/n! What the hell?” Spider rushes up to her, taking her tiny hands into his as he assesses her for any injuries. His hand reaches up to brush over her shoulders and down her arm with worry, forgetting the fact that was still Neteyam crouched right behind her with his mouth forming into a thin line.

“What the hell are you doing here?! Where is your mask! H-how?!?” Spider cups her cheeks, squishing them to make sure the figure in front of him was indeed his dear friend and not just a figment of his imagination.

Y/n scrunched her eyebrows, feeling embarrassed that Spider was flocking over her like a mother bird in front of two gorgeous Na’vi’s. She couldn’t help but feel self conscious as is. Y/n reaches up, removing his hands while staring at Spider with slight anger.

“What do you mean! I came here because you took the defected-” she places her hands over his mask, tilting it upwards to read the number it would be branded with. Unfortunately for her the number labeled wasn't the one she had been fearing.

“-exo pack...what the hell?” Y/n knocks against the faceplate in anger. Thankfully it wasn't the defected pack, but that just meant she had a heart attack over nothing. She nearly killed herself, over nothing! And that didn’t bode well with the smaller female.

Placing her hands along her hips she glares into the boy who chuckles nervously. He shrugs his shoulders while taking a step back from the fuming h/c girl.

“You really think I'd leave with a defective pack?” He questions, slightly offended that Y/n would think he would be dumb enough to do so. Y/n huffs in annoyance, pinching the bridge of her nose while trying to calm herself down. She inhaled deeply before turning her attention back to Spider, forgetting the Na’vi who watched her with curious eyes.

“Then what did you do to it?!”

“I threw it, obviously?”

“Ugh Spider! You’re supposed to log that type of stuff. I didn't see it in the recycling unit! Hence why I came all the way out here! Scared shitless that you might be dead!”

Kiri snickers from her spot beside Spider, clamping her mouth shut when Spider glances her way with an unimpressed glare. He turns back to Y/n while smiling nervously.

“I didn’t recycle it…..more so chucked it into the forest?”

“Spider!”

“Seriously?”

Y/n throws her hands up in anger, anger over the fact she even worried over an idiot to the point she left the confines of the base. And anger over the fact Spider clearly violated their code of not harming the environment whatsoever.

“You can’t throw it out in the forest you dummy, when we go back we have to recycle it ok? Don’t go around harming the environment around you. Alright?” Y/n lectures, her eyes knowing as she nudges against him. Spider nods in defeat at her words.

“She’s right, our eco system is not used to your technology. No matter how minor, it has consequences” Kiri pipes up, taking a step closer to Y/n. She kneels down to her level offering a friendly smile, one that Y/n returns with a slight flush on her cheeks. Neteyam watches curiously, slightly proud over the fact that a human like Y/n, cared about his world. And with such sincerity. It amazed him.

“I don’t believe we met, I’m Kiri. You must be Y/n?” Kiri introduces herself, causing Y/n’s eyes to widen.

“Kiri? Oh………..ohhh!!!” Y/n smiles wide, glancing at Spider who cowers at her knowing look.

“I’m sorry, it’s just I’ve heard so much about you!” Y/n explains taking a shaky step forward. Slightly limping. Neteyam automatically reaches his hand out to steady her, his heart racing at the thought of her falling again. She steadies herself before clasping her tiny hands with Kiri who smiles wide at her words.

“And I you,”

“Good things I hope?” Y/n throws a warning glance towards Spider who shrugs it off playfully.

“We’ll, up until now I didn’t know that you actually existed” Kiri announces, Neteyam quirks a confused eyebrow. He had never heard Spider mention Y/n before. It could have been due to the fact he was barely around to visit the lab. Not that he wanted to. He cared for Spider, but he couldn’t hold back the inner urge to dislike humans and their inventions. That’s why he never made it his mission to check out the lab or their equipment on his own accord. Which is why it pegged him, why was he so easily accepting of Y/n?

“You mean you thought I was crazy?” Spider interjects, sounding offended as he tries to get in between Kiri and Y/n’s bonding.

Y/n huffs out, waving her hand dismissively. “That’s besides the point” she says softly causing him to pout.

“That doesn’t matter, what matters is how are you not dead?!” Spider asks, looking to Neteyam for an explanation. The older Na’vi had been uncharacteristically quiet, so when everyone turned to him for an explanation he felt his cheeks flush with color.

“W-well, after I found her on our way over here she fell, sprained her ankle and broke her mask-”

“Oh my-”

“But she was able to breathe fine…I believe there is some significance to that. Earlier I saw a Atokirina approach her and accept her….it was as if Ewya ha-”

“-had chosen her” Kiri finishes his sentence cutting him off. Neteyam nods, his face turning towards Y/n who smiles shyly. He feels an elective shock surge through him at the sight, though he doesn't know why.

“I'm not so sure about that, there has to be a scientific reason for it. I must let Norm and Max know” Y/n says quickly, her eyes turning away from Neteyam’s focused stare. Ever since the fall Neteyam had insisted that he carry her the rest of the way. Though Y/n opposed the idea, the 8ft Na’vi wasn't going to take no for an answer. They did indeed make it rather quickly to Kiri and Spider, but at the cost of Y/n’s dignity,

“Speaking of which it’s really late, I’ll take Y/n back-” Spider steps towards Y/n, nodding as she tries not to put any weight on the ankle she had strained, frowning at the injury.

“-think you can walk?” He asks softly, reaching out for her.

“I think I can…wo- '' Y/n loses balance for a moment ready to fall face first into the ground below. But luckily a strong arm catches her mid fall, holding her tightly as if afraid to let her slip through his fingers. Y/n flushes crimson, staring down at the large blue arm wrapped around her waist yet again.

“T-thanks Neteyam” she stammers, feeling quite embarrassed. Turning her head slightly to show her appreciation as she smiles softly. Neteyam shakes his head, his eyes were so focused on her face, her eyes, her beautiful lips that he almost had lost himself in his thoughts once again. He clears his throat gently placing her down and turns to face Spider.

“I can assist you guys back. It’ll be safer that way” he suggests, secretly hoping Spider would agree. He wanted to insure their safety, most importantly Y/n’s safety.

“It’s alright Neteyam I got it. Thanks for watching out for her, she can be quite a handful” Spider chuckles, picking Y/n up with ease in his arms. Y/n yelps at the sudden change from standing on her two feet to floating midair, her face once again flushing red.

“Hey!”

Spider ignores her pleas to put her down, taking a step past the Na’vi with her still in his arms, he glances back momentarily, offering a smile to Kiri who returns it right away.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow monkey boy, get back safely” Spider turns around barley ducking for a tree branch that hangs low, grazing past the top of Y/n hair.

“Watch it!! She’s delicate!” Neteyam takes a cautious step forward before freezing. Kiri snorts out before covering her mouth at her brother's sudden words.

As his words register in his head Neteyam flushes purple, he quickly stands up straight clearing his throat he sputters out words while avoiding eye contact with a surprised Spider, and a wide eyed Y/n.

“I-I mean, be careful!”

“Neteyam, I got this.” Spider nods knowingly, he was promising to keep Y/n safe. And Neteyam seemed to have calmed down in that regard, his stare turned to Y/n who peered at him with a soft smile across her lips. He feels his heart tug in slight pain not knowing if he’d see her again.

“Will I-we be seeing you tomorrow?”

“I don’t know ...I hope so” Y/n whispers truthfully, her lips forming into a full smile knowing that Neteyam wanted to see her again. Out of his own free will. She couldn't help but feel giddy at the thought. The boy who saved her life reluctantly, now seems to genuinely care and want her near him.

Just as the duo disappear into the forest Kiri turns to her brother, smirking wide.

“Wow”

“What?”

“Nothing….just enjoying the view”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n and Spider sit on the medical chair in the middle of the lab as Norm and Max flock over them, their eyes holding disappointment as Max ran several tests on Y/n to make sure she was ok.

“What were you thinking! You could have died!!” Norm grumbles, throwing his hands in the air in frustration, Max nods at his friend's words, examining a sample of Y/n’s blood through a microscope. He notes that there were no abnormalities in the sample, she didn't seem to have any negative effects from being outside without an oxygen tank.

“But I didn't….I'm still here” Y/n rolls her eyes at his worry. She was fine other than the minor sprain which they tended to right away when they arrived.

“That’s not the point Y/n, what you did was dangerous….”

“We’ll if I didn’t then Spider would have died-“

“But I was fine-“

“Not helping!”

Y/n glares at Spider which causes him to keep his mouth shut. Taking a deep breath she faces Norm and Max who were staring at the tablet in hand, going over the sample results.

“The point is, I’m fine. Neteyam helped me and assisted me. If I didn’t go after Spider I wouldn’t have found out I can breathe the air out there. We can finally crack the code on our genetic makeup for humans to breathe Pandora’s air!”

At her words Norm and Max share a knowing look, where Norm nods giving Max the ok to speak, “Y/n…we knew you could breathe the air out there” Max says softly, he took a step closer to her to carefully place a bandaid over where he took a blood sample.

“WHAT?”

Y/n feels her heart drop at his words.

“W-what?”

They had known, they had known the entire time and hadn't thought of taking her out, choosing to keep her in this prison on purpose? They held such an important thing from her, for what? Y/n’s eyes sting with tears, the truth holding far too much weight.

Y/n hops down from the chair, Spider following her ready to hold her back while he carefully watches her tensed back. The way her hands clenched into fists and her angry tears that began flowing freely down her cheeks, he couldn’t help but sympathize and feel her rage.

“T-then why have you ... .you've kept me locked up in this-this prison knowing I’m suitable for the world out there?”

“Y/n, calm down-“

“NO!! I will not calm down! All my life I’ve been…stuck here!! All my life! I never got the chance to go out because you made me believe it wasn't suitable for me! And now I find out you lied? How can I ever trust you?” Spider holds Y/n back, her tears cascading down her cheeks at a rapid pace as she didn’t bother wiping them away. She felt betrayal weigh her down, her world crashing around her.

“Why…w-why did you do it” her voice cracked with pain and she leaned against Spider’s hold, unable to muster the energy to keep standing.

“Because we were scared..”

“Scared?” Spider's tone held more malice than he had intended, but he couldn’t help it when his close friend sobbed in his arms.

“Your mother-Dr L/n was a brilliant doctor. She assisted the Na’vi through tough times barley caring for her own deteriorating health….while she was heavily pregnant with you, due in a few weeks time-she went out to grab some herbs to for testing as well as ointment” Max begins silently, pushing his glasses up against the bridge of his nose,

“She insisted that no one tag along with her because she didn’t want us to affect the geological atmosphere. Considering how she is human, she didn’t want to create a fuss as is,”

“While she was deep into the woods, she went into labor. Neytiri had been nearby and tried helping her before she began active labor. They…They were close. The delivery was difficult as Neytiri couldn’t do too much..” Norm adds, taking a seat on his chair, hanging his head low in sadness.

Y/n seems to calm down, resting against Spider while listening carefully. The tears continued to cascade as she was finally able to hear what really happened to her mother years ago.

“By the time we were informed and arrived to the scene, your mother….had passed”

“You…you died Y/n. The moment you came out, you stopped breathing. You didn’t stand a chance against the harsh environment of Pandora. The very air suffocated you upon your first breath.” Max chokes up, taking off his glasses quickly to wipe away the tears as he recalled the events of that day.

“I held you, checked you for your vitals which…there were none. We thought we lost both you and your mother that day…and then, you cried”

“As scientists we are taught not to believe in miracles, but there you were. The first breath you ever took, and it was Pandora’s air. You were able to breathe the air like it was normal, it was as if you were reborn. As if Ewya gave you another chance”

Y/n wipes her tears, her expression hard as she was able to pull herself away from Spider to stand on her own, “Then…then why keep me here?”

“We were scared that Ewya spared you to survive for…that movement. We were too scared to take you out there in fear that you actually couldn't breathe it now that you're much older. We didn’t want to take any chances, we couldn’t risk losing you too ... .So over the years we conducted tests to see if anything would change, your genetic code stayed the same and we couldn’t figure out why or how you were able to breathe the air as an infant. We are not even close to cracking the code for humans to able to breathe the air, and seeing how you are able to now... .it’s clear only you can do this…” Norm states, standing up only to frown when he notices Y/n take a step back.

“Y/n we’re sorry for what we’ve done. Everything we ever did was for your own good, you are like a daughter to us " Max reaches out, placing a comforting hand on Y/n shoulder as she sighs out, wiping the remaining tears she pulls herself away, quietly retracting to her quarters without uttering a word.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It didn’t take Y/n long to forgive Norm and Max for what they’ve done. She knew they had the best intentions in mind but that didn’t help the feeling of betrayal from consuming her. Over the past few days she stayed locked in her room, requesting her meals to be delivered to her due to her sore ankle.

Even though her heart ached to be out once again, to explore the beauty she dreamed of while also interacting with Na’vi, especially Neteyam. She couldn’t bring herself to do so. She was so worked up over the fact that years had been stolen from her, she couldnt find it in herself to take the few steps to freedom. Days went by as Y/n actively declined Spider’s request to take her out.

As days progressed and at a slow pace, Y/n’s mood lifted a bit as her ankle healed. Her ankle seemed to be much better now, she was able to stand and walk without much aid but she still didn't feel the drive to move, the drive to leave.

“Y/n?” Spider peeks into her room, his exo pack slung over his arm. He looked ready to go out again.

“Yes?” Y/n sighs, not moving from her spot hunched over her desk. She had paused on the log she was currently watching, of her mother examining various plants and herbs she was fascinated with.

“There is someone who wants to speak with you”

“Spider, I’ll speak to Norm and Max when I feel like it, We both apologized. What more is there to say,” Y/n says with slight annoyance, turning away from him. Spider lets out a throaty chuckle, his eyes mysteriously twinkling with mischief.

“It’s not Norm, or Max,” he says before quickly disappearing from the room. Feeling a budding question Y/n gets up with a grunt, stretching her sore limbs before leaving the comfort of her room.

Her steps were slow as she quietly padded down the cold hall leading towards the lab, finding it weird how no one was nearby. It wasn't even that late into the day. Where has everyone gone? Y/n nears the lab, placing her thumb into the biometrics as the doors slide open with a swoosh.

“Ok Spider, wha-“

Y/n’s words die along her tongue as her eyes widen. Her jaw goes slack while she tries to figure out that what she saw in front of her was indeed real and not her imagination.

“Oh shit bro, you were right! She’s a cutie!”

There in the confines of the laboratory crouched down just to fit in were three Navi’s, two of which held bright smiles when their eyes snapped towards her direction, another stared at her in pure astonishment. His tail swished around him in pure excitement as he examined the girl his brother wouldn’t shut up about for the past few days.

“H-Hi!” Y/n squeaks when her eyes immediately land on the handsome Na’vi who blushed furiously at his brother's statement. She steps into the lab, her smile growing wide as Spider chuckles loudly. Kiri smacks him and the unidentified male Na’vi to shut them up before walking closer to said girl.

“Y/n, how are you?” She asks softly, crouching fully to the girl's height. She smiles sheepishly, forcing herself to train her gaze away from the handsome Na’vi who had been taking up her thoughts.

“It’s alright, I’ve…I’ve learned alot about my past and it’s hard to digest is all”

“Is that why you haven’t been around? Neteyam has been asking of you every time Spider drops by-“

“No!-“

All eyes turn to Neteyam who tries to scramble to his feet in embarrassment, knocking a bunch of papers and equipment along the way. Y/n bites her lip from laughing at the scene as he desperately tried to compose himself, while trying to put the things back to where they were in a hurry,

“-I-I mean I’ve been concerned. That’s all!” Neteyam assures quickly , making Y/n nod, a smile tugging along her lips. He looked adorable when flushed as he glared daggers into the two males who snicker on his behalf.

Y/n turns her attention back to a worried Kiri who waits for her response, “T-thank you. I’m fine....” she whispers softly, biting her lips as the last few days replayed inside her head. The group seemed to fall into a moment of silence, registering how upset and conflicted the girl looked.

“Y/n? Spider told us. And I know this is a lot to take in, but know you were chosen by Ewya. Everything has a purpose. There is a reason why you’ve found out about your uniqueness now. Trust me, it’ll make sense soon” Kiri assured, sending an encouraging smile. Neteyam nears his sister, offering a soft smile in return.

“Thank you Kiri” Y/n murmurs, her eyes softening at her words. Maybe everything that has happened had a purpose?

The unknown Na’vi sighs out as everyone shares a smile along their lips. The male stretches his legs before brushing past Neteyam and Kiri only to stop right in front of Y/n who stares at him quizzically.

“Now, on a better note-“

The Na’vi crouches down to her level, his eyes playful and full of wonder as he examines her from head to toe. Y/n felt her face flush red at the close examination, she even caught the way how he leaned in to take a whiff of her scent which didn't help her nervously beating heart.

“I’m Lo’ak! You know. The cool one? Spider must have spoke of me often”

The male introduces himself, raising his clenched hand up for a fist bump which Y/n immediately returns her smile stretching wider into a grin.

“Lo’ak! Oh yes, nice to meet you. I’m Y/n. Spider speaks quite fondly of you.” Her words causes Lo’ak’s smile to grow wider as he throws Spider an appreciative nod. He quickly turns back to her, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“That’s what’s in talk’n about!! I’m glad I’ve made such a good impression-” the sly wink he sent to Y/n causes Neteyam to groan in annoyance.

“-Now, how about we all get outta here?”

~~~~~~~~~

Y/n stares at the beautiful flower in front of her while crouching down beside Neteyam. Her eyes drank in the way the sun caused the petals of the flower to glimmer beautifully, sending a feeling of wonder and awe through her. In all her life Y/n had never seen something this beautiful, well, other than Neteyam who was something else to be reckoned with.

Neteyam shares quick glances between the quiet girl and the flower, watching how her eyes lit up as she leans a bit closer towards the blossoms. Neteyam smirks in amusement at how her mouth formed a ‘o’ in amazement.

“What is this flower called?” Y/n whispers, turning her head slightly to face Neteyam while still keeping the beautiful flower in view. Neteyam chuckles at her words, his chest vibrating with laughter.

“That’s a Tsawksyul” he replies.

Y/n smiles at how easily he said the word, how smoothly it glazed against his tongue. Neteyam watches Y/n pause for a bit, as if he would see the gears shifting in her brain as she deciphers the meaning of the word in her head.

“A Sun-Lilly? Tsaw-ky-syul?” Y/n tries to mimic the way Neteyam pronounced it only to fail terribly. She winced at how rough the beautiful word sounded against her tongue. Neteyam’s eyes glimmer with affection seeing how she tried her best to learn, her curiosity knowing no bounds.

Scooting closer to the much smaller girl he points to the flower in between them, “Its ‘t͡sawk.sjul’,” he repeats, much slower then before which allows her time to mimic him, her words come out choppy but better than before making Neteyam smile wider.

“It’s beautiful, why is it called that?” Y/n asks, leaning her head against her crossed arms resting in her knee. A smile twitches against his lips at the gesture, he knew how much smaller she was compared to him, but now sitting this close, their bodies nearly touching, Neteyam feel a urge to protect her, his tiny human.

“It’s a sun loving flower, it blooms fully during the day” Neteyam murmurs, his longer fingers reaching down to pick a flower that had fallen from the bush. The stem is still intact which he holds delicately, twirling the flower. The sun hitting the petals just right as Y/n watches completely mesmerized.

“Wow”

Neteyam chuckles in amusement at how her fingers twitched, as if she wanted to reach out to touch it like he had but stopped herself from doing so.

“It reminds me of you” Neteyam mumbles softly, taking the flower and tucking it behind her ear. Y/n freezes at the action, shutting her eyes out of reflex as Neteyam secures the blossom in place. His breath hitched as she slowly opens her eyes.

Two worlds, a beautiful flower of his world and a Tawtute. Two things that shouldn’t mix, but looked perfect in his eyes. Like they were meant to be.

“H-how so?” Y/n asks, reaching up for her fingers to trace over the delicate petals. It felt so soft to the touch and Y/n knew right then and there she would cherish that flower for all of eternity.

“It reminds me of your smile…how your smile lights up your entire face. Similar to a Tsawksyul” Neteyam admits bashfully. His bioluminescent freckles flicker under her watchful eyes in slight shyness.

“T-thank you!” Y/n squeals, averting her eyes to the other Na’vi not too far away from them playing around with Spider. Her heart beating wildly against her ribcage

“D-don’t mention it,” Neteyam whispers, his attention averting again to the flowers in front of him. Flowers that once looked so beautiful to him, now paled in comparison to who sat before him.

~~~~~~

“This is Eam’pin, I named her after my mothers previous ikran Seze” (Green) Neteyam pets the beautiful creature, decorated green markings that made her look unique. Y/n, who maintains some distance watches in wonderment.

Over the past few weeks she had grown closer to the Sully’s, meeting her favourite current Na’vi Tuk along the way. It was odd at first that even though Y/n was older than Tuk by a lot, Tuk still towers over her tiny human body.

Today Tuk urged Neteyam to finally take Y/n to see the Ikran, up close and personal since the girl had expressed her interest over the magnificent beasts.

Neteyam had been reluctant at first due to the slight fear of Y/n getting hurt based on her fragile body. She was human, and though she has grown accustomed to the world around her. He still felt worry rise within him.

Y/n and Neteyam have grown close over the past few weeks, whenever he had time off from his training he would look for her in a heartbeat. He always accompanied her out into the forest where she would inspect the fauna around her.

He loved watching her appreciate his world, all with the purest intentions. Neteyam grew to understand that maybe not all humans were bad after walking and his initial distaste started to wear off the more he spent time with her.

Now that Tuk started tagging along often, Y/n had grown more comfortable. Interacting with the creatures as her interests grew. Which led to this moment, right before Neteyam could go on patrol Tuk had dragged Y/n to visit his ikran.

Knowing very well that Neteyam’s ikran was much kinder than others when in his presence. Spider and Lo’ak also tagged along, waiting for Neteyam to depart so they can drag Y/n off with them to their pre-planned adventure.

“She is, but don’t look in her eyes. She is very calm but fierce as well” Tuk reminds her.

Y/n nods, casting her stare downcast as Neteyam easily mounts his Ikran. Once he makes Tsaheylu, the ikran screeches. It’s head turning towards Y/n, the girl that took up all of Neteyam’s thoughts. The ikran eyes softened a bit, noting the fondness Neteyam felt towards her.

Seeing how Neteyam readied himself to take off Y/n steps closer towards them, a sad smile along her lips knowing she wouldn’t be able to spend time with him today.

“Be careful?”

Neteyam lets out a throaty chuckle, his eyes crinkling with happiness. “Oh my Tsawksyul, I’m always careful”

“See you soon?”

“I’ll be back before you know it” Neteyam promises before looking at Lo’ak who smirks.

Neteyam nods towards him, his eyes speaking volumes. Reminding him to stay safe, to keep Y/n and Tuk safe. Lo’ak waves his hand off dismissively which causes the older Na’vi to sigh out. He lets out a call before his Ikran takes to the sky, Y/n covers her eyes from the leaves the rustle wildly at the sudden movement.

Lo’ak and Spider walk closer to the girls, both wearing shit eating grins, “So…..Tsawksyul??”

Y/n immediately flushes pink, swatting her hand out to hit the taller Na’vi, barley causing him to flinch, “Oh stop it Lo’ak!”

“No, it’s cute! Sickenly cute. I’d say you and my brother are getting quite acquainted” Lo’ak teases making Spider snort beside him,

“We’re friends! That’s all”

“Her diary says otherwise,” Spider quickly adds, which causes Y/n blood to run cold.

“You read my diary?!? Spider I’m going to kill you!” Y/n roars, lunging after the retreating male. Tuk giggles before following after the duo.

Lo’ak howls with laughter, running after the group trying to insure Y/n didn’t get to Spider first.

“Wait, don’t kill him yet! Bro! Tell me what it says!”

________________________________________

Pt.3 (coming out tomorrow)

A/N: Hi everyone! Thank you for everyone who had been looking forward to Pt 2. Unfortunately I didn’t want to make Pt.2 a 5k+ fic so I decided to do it two parts. Pt.3 will be out tomorrow so please look forward to it!! Thank you much and I hope you all like Pt2! I’m so thankful to those who understand that I’ve been going through, but I also want to apologize for taking so long, I hope you enjoy!

Tag list:

@lala-1516  @yagirlheree  @strawberri-blonde  @min-jianhyung   @lucialobelia  @camilo-uwu  @unicornicopia1  @a-blog-name-2003  @daffodil-darlings  @elizarikaallen  @jin0x0  @holysaladapricothero  @navs-bhat  @moony-artemis  @need-a-life-or-grass  @alexandra-001  @fifia-writes  @ok-boke  @whoareyoi @melllinaa  @themostegotisticalgirl124  @anangelwhodidntfall @lilymoew  @laylasbunbunny @oceanstar19   @meritxellao  @childofgod-05 @heart-an0n  @sully-stick-together  @kau7itz  @im-in-a-pansexual-panik  @youngpersonaathletebear  @ohshititsfenharel @mybl00dyblades  @glimmering-darling-dolly  @meritxellao

[the-sunflower-room]

✧akutagawa with a s/o who doodles on him ✧

akutagawa x fem!reader headcanons

☆note: i am a chronic doodler (art major moment, everybody point and laugh) and i was thinking about how cute it would be if akutagawa had a s/o who loves to doodle on him, so here it is! please enjoy lovelies xoxo

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-for starters, akutagawa is pretty much stoic and cold with 98% of the human population

-he’s just a serious guy with major rbf what can i say

-to the rest of the world, he’s the terrifying mafioso in black who brings death and destruction wherever he goes

-but to his significant other, he’s just her “sweet ryu” as she likes to call him

-in the privacy of their home he sheds his role as the mafia devil and takes on the role of doting boyfriend

-he has such a soft spot for her it’s crazy

-anyways

-she has this little habit of doodling anywhere and everywhere

-on her arms, on napkins, on corners of paper

-she’s always drawing little hearts or stars or characters—you name it

-whatever she’s feeling at the moment

-eventually she gets brave enough to draw a little heart on the back of akutagawa’s hand one day

-he’s just reading on the couch with one hand resting on his thigh and suddenly feels a pen pressing into his skin

-he starts to protest but she’s so focused and content while she’s working on it that he leaves it be and goes back to his book

-she expects him to humor her for a little while and then wipe it off eventually

-she’s pleasantly surprised to find that it’s still there as they’re getting ready for bed that night

-the next day he walks around the port mafia and goes about his very serious business with a little heart on his hand

-she notices how he refuses to wash it off and can’t help how giddy it makes her

-takes it as a sign to do it more often

-it becomes a therapeutic thing for both of them

-they’ll just be sitting on the couch, watching a show together or something, and she’s just mindlessly doodling on his hand or arm

-he tries sooo hard to hide his smile

-will prob turn away and cough into his other hand to cover up the stupid lovesick grin on his face

-totally denies it when she questions him

-he’s a feared member of the port mafia, of course he’s not completely enamored with the silly little drawings she’s lovingly inking onto his skin (yeah ok)

-she knows he loves it

-some days she’s feeling more ambitious and colors in some of her doodles with markers or colored pens

-“it’s like i’m giving you little tattoos! they totally make you look more badass” (she says as she draws a snake with a cowboy hat on his wrist)

-he secretly adores seeing all of the creative designs she comes up with

-when he walks around with the doodles on his skin it’s like he’s carrying a little piece of her with him

-if anyone in the pm catches a glimpse of his hands and dares to say something about the colorful ink, he immediately snaps at them

-“why don’t you mind your business and stop wasting air with stupid questions, you pathetic imbecile”

-this man is so whipped and protective ok

-like he hates pretty much everyone but her

-will defend his s/o till the day he dies and do anything to make her happy

-and i mean anything

-even if that means having a poorly draw cat peeking out from under his sleeve during a Very Important Meeting with mori :)

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[thowawayuntilfurthernotice]

Maybe I’m just getting older, but I really don't get this notion that people have when it comes to media criticism. 

Nobody is sitting here saying that all criticism is good and that you should listen to every piece of criticism you get. Because guess what? Not all criticism is argued in good faith, nor does anybody like getting criticized. 

But it’s important to learn how to deal with criticism, otherwise how are we supposed to improve? 

I also hate how some folks assume that just because I’m critical of Viv and her shows, then that must mean I have some sort of personal vendetta against her. When I really don’t. 

Truth be told, I legit hate that people think that I’m a Viv anti or that I only made this blog to criticize her shows. As anybody who actually bothered to browse through my archive would know that I’ve talked about (and criticized) other things that aren’t related to Viv. 

My life doesn’t revolve around Viv you guys, I don’t wake up every morning and think “I wonder what Viv is up to?” I just go about my day like every other human being. 

The reason I criticize Viv so much is that I’m genuinely curious as to why so many people within the animation industry hold her in such high regard. Is it because she came from an indie background? Do people love the “Indie creator gets her own show” narrative so much that they’re willing to overlook all her creative shortcomings? 

It’s weird watching the same folks who were dunking on Velma praise Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss, because you damn well know that if Velma did the “Characters are in a room that’s decorated in dildos and vibrators” gag, Twitter would have a collective meltdown. 

And yet for some odd reason, Viv’s shows are held to such higher standards that I honestly start to wonder if all these industry professionals watched the same shows that I did. Because I’m struggling to think of a single Hazbin Hotel or Helluva Boss joke that genuinely got a laugh out of me. 

“But humor is subjective” okay, then why does Viv get so defensive whenever someone criticizes the humor that’s found in her shows? 

Really don’t understand why she goes out of her way to complain about her critics when she could easily ignore them. She’s under no obligation to respond to her critics, but she keeps vague posting about all the criticism she gets because she literally cannot handle getting criticized. 

Here’s the thing, Viv’s fans tend to assume that just because I'm critical of something that’s popular, then that means I don’t get criticized. When that certainly isn’t the case. 

I’ve been criticized for being critical of the current state of indie animation, I got a bunch of hate from racist nerds for liking the My Adventures With Superman version of Livewire, and recently someone responded with a full length essay to a post of mine that was critical of Primos. 

But the difference between me and Viv is that I don’t constantly post vague backhanded insults regarding my critics on social media. If I feel a piece of criticism is worth addressing, then I’ll address it and if not? Then I’m not going to bother. 

Trust me, I haven’t lost any sleep over the fact that a bunch of random internet folks don’t like me.