#well whatever judge for yourself as they say with art

[parasitoidism]

Ur making me want to get into devilman...the art is so intoxicating to me

it is very good but I feel like I gotta state for the record it’s not something you should read if you want to like. Have fun. It’s just very grim and violent especially toward the end

[district4loading]

Under My Spell

Kiss of Life Belle x Male Reader

5K Words

Content Warning: smut, hypnosis, use of handcuffs, praise, a little bit of degrading

Minors DNI

A/N: I got the request to do this almost a month ago but back then I was really busy and I had other requests to get to first. Now that my writers block is partially gone, I'm ready to write and work on everything else I've been requested. This was supposed to come out two days ago but I ended up getting sick and I couldn't finish it lmao.

This is my first time writing something like this, I know I probably got some aspects of it wrong so just vibe yeah? Hope you guys enjoy this one!!

The request: "would you be open to writing a smut about hypnosis? like where the reader and idol decide to try out hypnosis?"

-

Maybe hypnosis is real

-

You're laying in bed when she brings it up.

She just came back from the nail salon, her purse slides off of her arm and onto the dresser when she asks you "Babe, what's the kinkiest thing you've ever done?" She peels herself out of her denim jacket, the one you bought her recently that she called 'ugly.' You fail to mention it though because you begin to question the context of her inquiry.

"Probably like... bondage stuff" You look up from your phone, "Where's this coming from?"

Belle only begins to strip herself of the remainder of her clothing before muttering "I'll get to that." You watch as she throws the worn garments to the side before digging through the dresser for something more comfortable "Wouldn't you find it hot to have complete and utter control over someone, tell them to do something and they're on it with no hesitation or thought behind it" She steps into a pair of shorts "No matter what you ask, they do it mindlessly"

You tilt your head, trying to follow wherever she's going with this. There's a smile on her face but it's not just any smile, it tells you that she's testing the waters, trying to gauge whether or not you were into whatever the hell she was getting at now. "I mean... I guess? I'm not sure"

"You guess?" She gives you a look before pulling an old, loose black t-shirt over her head. She then crawls into bed and you're not surprised when you find her straddling your waist with her hands snaking underneath your shirt. "So... you wouldn't mind putting me under your spell so you could get me to do whatever sick shit you want me to?"

"That sounds like some weird MK-Ultra mind control shit" You chuckle, then wince after she pinches your abs with her sharp nails.

Belle hums "Yeah that's exactly what I mean..." You watch as she backs up a bit, then she begins to think, "well actually I was talking about hypnosis but you get the idea... kinda sorta"

"You want me to hypnotize you?" She nods and now you're confused "You can't actually believe that works babe..."

"It works" She insists, then slaps your chest when she sees the unconvinced and almost judging look on your face.

That's when you realize she's dead serious about it "What makes you want to try hypnosis all of a sudden?"

"Well" She begins tugging at the hem of your shirt "A friend of mine told me about how she and her boyfriend tried it and it sort of inspired me"

You stay silent for a bit, reminding yourself not to say anything slick so she doesn't get upset with you. "So how does it work? Do I get a pocket watch and swing it in front of your face or something?" You end up snickering a bit, still finding this conversation to be more humorous than serious.

Belle gives you a look, trying to hold in her own laugh "No, you idiot! I'll send you some videos later and.." She smiles mischievously before sliding off of you then she goes over to the dresser and digs her hand into her purse. You quirk your eyebrow and sit up to better see what she's doing. The moment she pulls a pair of hand-cuffs out, your eyes widen.

"We're gonna need these too"

-

So after watching countless videos, you finally think you've mastered the art of hypnosis.

Maybe not "mastered" but you got the gist of it. You've got no clue why you agreed to this in the first place because there was still something in the back of your mind telling you that this would never work and if it somehow did, she'd only be pretending. It's probably the boring pessimist in you that makes you think that way but this seemed interesting. So you keep your questioning thoughts to yourself as you reach into your drawer for the handcuffs.

Belle smiles at you in your dark bedroom, the warm light from the lamp on your nightstand is on the dimmest setting. It makes her naked body look so perfect, highlighting each and every one of her beautiful curves. You walk over to her, putting the cuffs on the bed before you take your hands in hers. "Ready?" She hums and nods her head.

"Now, I want you close your eyes to take a deep breath" She does as you say and you can hear the sharp sound of her nostrils taking in the cool conditioned air, her chest rises with it. "Now slowly exhale" and her chest falls gently "Now breathe as you listen to my voice, focus on it and allow everything else to fade away"

You keep your tone gentle and soft to put her at ease "The faint hum of the air conditioner, the rain outside, the cars passing by, block it all out" You notice that she's still taking those deep breaths, then exhaling them with soft grace. "Just focus on me, allow that tension and stress to melt away. No work, no schedules, just you and I"

"Now listen to my words" You pause for a moment "You'll do as I say, be subservient to me" You begin pulling her into a mindset crafted and molded by you "You want me to handcuff you" At this point, Belle holds a straight face, she doesn't even flinch or cringe at your words. Not even a smirk or a giggle, like you've actually got her in some sort of trance. "You feel the urge to do anything to get me off" and "You will not want us to stop until I say we do"

"Keep your breathing steady and at the snap of my fingers you will awaken with all of these desires"

You raise your hand and put your thumb against your middle finger, then *snap* and her eyes immediately open. There's something about her gaze that you immediately observe, it's kind of dark and empty and she's got a completely blank expression on her face. "What do you want?" You question her softly.

Belle looks over to the handcuffs and picks them up, then she holds them in front of you "Please" She says it with her voice just above a whisper "Please cuff me"

You swallow, not at all recognizing the tone in her voice. It has a chill running down your spine because it sounds almost desperate, like she's really begging for it. You begin to think that maybe this hypnosis shit is actually real and it scares you a bit. But you still take the handcuffs out of her hands as she puts her hands out for you.

It takes you a moment cause you're not used to this but you manage to get them on her. "Knees, princess" You order and just like that, she's dropping to her knees in front of you "Good girl" You mutter under your breath as you look down at her with nothing but lust in your eyes.

It's weird, this was actually turning you on more than you thought it would. Having so much control over her without a fight for dominance or her usual bratty attitude.

No doubt it already has your blood rushing.

So you don't waste any time to pull off your shirt then you unbuckle your belt and you take your jeans off. You take your hard cock into your hand and you pump it slowly "Open" Her lips part and her tongue pokes out "Suck" Is the next thing you say as you guide the head into her mouth.

Almost immediately, she begins bobbing her head mindlessly. Her warm mouth is so wet and welcoming and the feel of her fleshy, slippery inner cheeks and her smooth velvety tongue has your nerves so sensitive. You groan deeply as you allow your hands to run through her scalp then your hips start thrusting forwards because she's beginning to swirl her tongue and it feels incredible. She doesn't even need her hands, so much control, so disciplined and obedient for you. Belle takes your cock like a pro, sucking and slurping it tightly to provide the utmost pleasure and its fucking perfect.

She makes enthusiastic noises as she sucks your cock, like she's been starving for it, like your pre-cum is the best thing she's ever tasted.

You stop for a moment and hold her head still, then you push all the way in so her nose is pressed up against your base. Almost like you're a sadist, you hold her there, watching the way her eyes well up with tears. "So beautiful" You compliment, admiring the look of her glossy eyes. Her throat squeezes you as she gags "Ah fuck" You moan, pushing your hips just a bit deeper and Belle swallows, nearly making you dizzy. So you loosen your grip on her head and she continues to bob her head wildly.

It's like she has no gag reflex with how fast she's going and how deep she's taking you. Each drag of her mouth has you stuck just staring into her eyes, those dutiful brown orbs that tell you she's not going to stop until your cum is shooting down her throat. At this rate, it may not be too far away. "Oh—fucking god" You bite your lip, muscles clenching as she continues to suck you off.

All she can really do is hum and moan with her mouth stuffed full with your cock, the sticky noises only adding to your arousal. You can feel it coming already. She's ruthless with it, flicking her tongue in ways she never has before. "I'm going to fucking—" You can't even finish your sentence because she has your needy cock throbbing in her perfect mouth.

It's muffled, but you can hear it when she moans and starts bobbing her head quicker, like she wants nothing more than to get you off. You don't even realize it when you grip her hair tighter because you're too focused on being at the edge. Usually, when Belle would do this, she'd stop at the last second just to tease because like the brat she is, she enjoyed seeing you squirm. However, it didn't seem like she'd be doing that now. By the look in her eye, you can tell she's going to fucking milk you for all you've got.

Now you're starting to really get the idea of this whole hypnosis thing, even if she's just faking it. You place your hands on her head because even though you know she won't go anywhere, it feels right. You take a deep breath and then "I'm cumming" you announce with a low and long groan escaping your lips. Your eyes shut so tight you can see spots behind your eyelids and in a flash Belle's taking it all down her perfect throat.

It's almost like she can't get enough of you, the way she keeps on sucking she pulls out any bit of semen you have left. She swallows it all and you pull your hips back weakly when she tries to get you back in her mouth "Okay, thats enough" You chuckle tiredly and then she sits back on her heels.

Now the deadpan expression on her face is gone and it's replaced with an eager smile. There's still something off about it but you can't exactly pinpoint what "Did I do good?" She asks, waiting for your response with some drool at the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah, baby" You sigh "On the bed, on your back, now" Another order comes out of your mouth, and you sound more natural about it.

Belle licks her lips then stands up, it takes a little more effort for her to climb onto the bed because of the handcuffs but she does it eventually. "What do you want, princess?" You ask the question again, because you're intrigued about what she'll answer.

"Use my body, please sir I want it so fucking bad—I need it. Need you to use me until you're finished I won't be satisfied until you're done with me" There's this genuine yearning in her tone, something that you almost don't recognize at all.

You go with it though "Lift your arms until they're above your head" A smirk grows on your face as you get a perfect view of her tits. You climb onto the bed and you get on top of her, positioned so that you're almost sitting on her stomach "You gonna let me use these perfect tits?" You ask as if she has any choice in the matter.

Still, she nods her head frantically "Anything" She whines as you grab a hold of her breasts in your big hands. You cup and squeeze them, like always, they're better than fucking pillows, so soft and squishy. You place your cock in between them and press them together on it, you groan immediately when your feel the perfect warmth.

"Fuck yeah" You groan as you begin to move your hips back and forth. She only looks up at you with that lustful look in her eyes. You gather some saliva in your mouth, then you lean over and spit it out. It lands on her boob, then it trickles downwards and you spread it around as you keep fucking her tits.

It was always something you wanted to try out, but you hadn't gotten the chance to ask yet. You were kind of afraid she'd laugh at the idea and you didn't exactly know how she'd take it. Belle would probably be down for literally anything you wanted to try out and it was the same for you—which is why you agreed to do this hypnosis thing in the first place—but you could still do without the teasing that'd come with it.

Your cock slides between her breasts without any resistance whatsoever, it's all smooth and slick and it feels so fucking good. With her hands over her head she just lets it happen because she's fucking loving it. The almost harsh grip you have on her tits has her squirming because she wants to be touched and used in other places, obviously.

You keep the pace though, wanting to stay in this moment for just a little bit more before you move on. "How does it feel baby?" She gives you those expecting eyes, like she yearns for your approval.

So you don't hold back your praises "Incredible, your tits are fucking amazing Belle... I could do this forever" You sigh, listening to the slick sound each of your movements make.

"Why don't you do it forever then? I wouldn't mind" She teases but her tone tells you that she's not really joking.

Maybe hypnosis is real

A small chuckle escapes your lips as you stop your movements "If I did that, I wouldn't be able to get to the best part"

"Which is?" She figures she can let her hands rest on her belly.

You reposition yourself so that you're in between Belle's legs at this point "Right here, princess" She hums when you place your palm on her soaked cunt. It's all slippery and slick with her arousal, she's been absolutely aching to have you inside of her. Your cock throbs at the mere thought of it.

"Please sir"

The way her voice sounds in your hears has you smirking, so fucking desperate. Normally, Belle had far too much pride to beg like this but now that she's under your control things are different.

You might actually prefer it this way

"Please what darling? You want my cock or what?" You mock, wrapping your fingers around your cock so you can nudge it against her entrance. You don't put it in though, you merely slide it up and down her slit slowly, lathering your swollen cock head up with her wetness.

A choked moan forces its way through her throat "Yes! I fucking need your cock—fuck—just inside please just...use me, fucking own me"

"Jesus, you're a fucking slut" You bite your lip, slapping your tip against her needy cunt just to get her that much more riled up before you begin.

"Your slut" Belle corrects, bucking her hips up like she really needs you.

So you stop messing around and you slide your thick cock into her hot entrance. Her walls pull you in immediately, hugging your cock so tightly that you have to stifle a moan "Fucking hell" you whisper instead. Belle exhales softly as you make eye contact with her then you slide yourself in all the way until you reach the hilt.

The look on her face is pure content as you begin to move inside of her. She watches you, not missing the subtle ways your facial features contort from the pleasure. "Fuck me" She begins to pull at the cuffs, fingers trying to grasp at anything while you pick up the pace.

If she wants to get fucked, I'll fuck her—is what you think to yourself as you lean over.

You're moving faster now, hearing a jumbled up mess of words that escape her lips as you do. She's saying your name like its a prayer, begging for it deeper, faster, harder all at once because she wants you to give her everything. "Fucking—please!! more..more..more" It sounds like she just might die if you don't. So that's exactly what you do, you give her probably more than she can handle.

The quiet bedroom now has the sound of your skin slapping against each other echoing throughout it, then there's that filthy sound coming from between your legs—her arousal is audible especially when you bottom out. It's almost like a splashing sound over and over again occurring fast with your punishing thrusts.

"You feel so fucking good, so fucking tight and wet for me" You spit, watching in real time as you dumb her down with your cock. She's blabbering about something, something about how your cock is too good, how she can't get enough of it. That's about all you're able to make out because she's cutting of her own sentences with loud moans then seemingly forgetting whatever she was going to say next.

You smirk a little because you've whittled her down to this complete and utter embarrassing mess. She wants to touch you—to feel your body and you can tell by the frantic way her hands are moving. You almost snicker at how pathetic she looks right now. "What's wrong? Gonna cum already?" Is the question you ask upon noticing that familiar breathing pattern "Go ahead, do it" you grit through your teeth.

She's gasping for air deliberately, like she has to remind herself to breathe. Still she's able to chant "yes-yes-yes-yes-yes-yes" right before the poor girl stops breathing all together. You keep it hard and deep as she goes silent, your grunts being the only other noise that can be heard over the filthy noises of your sex.

Her body stiffens, only moving from the impact of each of your thrusts. Then finally she exhales, legs shaking as she cums all over your cock like she's been longing to. Her cunt clenches around you so tight that it has you not too far behind her. You let your body fall onto hers so she can feel you close as you ride her body through her orgasm, your hips rolling forwards all slow and calculated. "Good fucking girl" 

When she's finished you pull your hips back to slip your cock out of her. She whines, not liking the feeling of being empty but she doesn't say anything about it. "Where should I finish?" You question her, lifting your body off of hers. You get off of the bed and reach for the nightstand where the keys to the handcuffs are.

You grab them, then you un-cuff her "I'll be happy with whatever you choose, sir" she whimpers, breathing heavily as you move to flip her over.

It's a bit difficult to get a good grip on her sleek skin, but you're able to do it so she's flat on her stomach "Hands and knees." Belle immediately finds the strength to do so, pulling her body up so that she's in the position you've asked her to be in. You get behind her and your hands find her waist "I think I wanna cum in this tight pussy" You mutter, guiding your sensitive tip to her stretched cunt. 

It's begging to be filled again, to be pumped full of your seed.

"Then breed me babe" She breathes, pushing her ass back in an attempt to get you inside when she notices that you're teasing. You only smirk, then you part her lips with your tip, gathering up all the clear slick between her legs. "Come on" Belle moves her hips side to side.

First you run your palm over her soft, round ass and then you slap it harshly. She lets out a pleasureful shriek as you watch the red shape of your hand form on the pale skin. You run the same hand up her hips and stop at her waist which you grip tightly before slip your cock back into her needy cunt.

You put your other hand on her waist, holding her in place while you push your hips forwards. "Christ" You groan because she's way tighter in this position. Starting off slow seems like the right move at first because she's whimpering, so you do.

Until she lets the side of her head rest on the mattress, so she can look at you the best she can in this position. "Don't be afraid to get rough with me babe, I can handle it" She bites her bottom lip so hard you fear she might draw blood. "Use me" She begs you for the nth time with that perfectly seductive voice of hers, making it so hard for you to hold back. You weren't even sure what you were even holding back for anyways.

So while keeping a good grip on her waist, you begin to jackhammer your cock into that wet warmth. "Fuck!" A broken scream tears through her lips and it almost worries you but the lust takes over. You keep hearing it in the back of your mind. use her, use her, use her. So much that you don't care if you're going too hard "Yes! you're fucking me so... fucking good sir!" She keens.

You lean over and reach your hand to find a grip on her hair. She gasps at the sweet pain that comes with the rough pull of your fingers and she's forced to hold herself up with her arms again—which she can barely do. "You're fucking dripping baby" You grunt, getting off on the sharp crack that booms each time your hips come in contact with her round ass. "Such a good slut... taking it so well for me"

"Please" She whines, and you're not entirely sure what she's begging for "Please"

"Please what princess?" You almost growl, feeling your abs begin to burn.

She swallows thickly, moaning like she can't control herself. "f-f-fill me up.. I fucking—God—I fucking need it" 

It's coming, you can feel it in your balls. Her cunt is gripping you so perfectly, so smooth and slick that every drag has your jaw clenching and your mind going blank. You're so unbelievably close to stuffing her full of it--it's the only thing you can think about right now. "Yeah... Belle, gonna fucking... cum in you" Your breaths are labored now because the force you're fucking her with is tiring you out.

"God I'm gonna fucking-" Belle squeals, then a rush of clear liquid begins to spill out from between her legs and her mouth hangs open. The pressure almost kills you right then and there but you keep moving, you can't get enough of her. Even when another—more powerful—burst comes out you only grunt as it runs down her legs and stains the sheets.

"Ah...look at you—squirting for me" You'd chuckle if you weren't so close right now. You end up slowing it down, thrusting hard and deep into her cunt slowly. One. Belle shrieks. Two. She moans deeply.  Three. She bites her lip. Then four and your cock is pulsing and throbbing wildly inside of her the second you bury it inside of her on the fourth thrust. You moan loudly as you fill her needy cunt with your seed. There's so much that it's dripping down the side.

You can only sigh the little bit of breath you have left as it continues, your voice too broken and fucked up to do anything more. She only hums sweetly, giggling as you let go of your grip on her hair and your body collapses onto hers so you lay flat on the bed.

"Holy shit" You swallow, then you gather up the strength to sit yourself up and you put your hand on her now red ass, rubbing the cheek as you catch your breath. "Good girl" Then you remember that you should probably pull her out of her hypnotized state. "Sit up and close your eyes" You breathe. It takes her a moment, you watch as she sort of struggles to do as you say but eventually she does. "At the snap of my fingers, you will wake up"

You snap your fingers and her eyes open "Oh my God" is the only thing that comes out of her mouth. Her expression is unreadable and you're not sure if its a good thing or a bad thing for a second. Then Belle smiles and she climbs on top of you. You're surprised, but you allow it because the second she leans in to kiss you it just feels right. She pulls away "What the fuck? That was so hot" It's like she herself is surprised that it worked too.

"You remember?" You ask, knowing that sometimes people lose memory after they've been hypnotized, but it seems like Belle didn't.

Belle nods her head "Every second" Then she kisses you again "Especially when you fucked my tits, you could've told me you were into that" she teases, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth.

"I know you, you would've laughed at me"

"But I still would've let you do it" She nods

You tilt your head playfully doubting her words "Sure" Is all you say before she pushes you back so that you're laying down.

"Shut up" She mutters before putting her lips on yours again and you're both smiling into the passionate kiss, feeling that familiar fluttering feeling in your stomach. "Thank you for trying this out with me" She seems genuine about it.

You shake your head "I'll try any kinky shit you throw at me"

and there's no doubt you would

[safetypinxtales]

Lonely with you | Azriel

summary: it seems like everyone's found their mates, except you. On a sleepless night you turn to your friend, in hopes that being alone, together, will feel slightly less lonely.

words: 1.5k

warnings: fluff, feelings of loneliness, thirsting over our boy az and his thighs, kind of just a drawn out drabble, some angst, generally just softness, Azriel with a book needs a warning in and of itself, very slight jealousy, neutrally described reader/no reader description, no use of y/n, PINING

notes: haven't written in years, and never befor for Azriel, or anyone from acotar, so bare with me. Not sure what I think of this, nor what the future might hold, but I had some time off uni and this idea that I just couldn't seem to get out of my head. Hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

part 2

You knew what picture was waiting for you in the living room of the House before you even rounded that corner. The distinct sound of pages turning, the hint of whiskey in the air, and him. 

That scent that was just so distinctly Azriel it almost made you forget that echoing emptiness in your chest. 

The sight that greeted you as you entered the room belonged in a museum, or at the very least at the front of some Day Court scribe’s lecture hall, being studied by the brightest minds in Prythian. You wanted to commission Feyre to paint it from your memories so it could be immortalized, even if just for your eyes. Because by the Gods, it was mesmerizing. 

Azriel sat – no, sprawled across one of the couches, those thick, muscled, sweatpant-clad thighs so deliciously, invitingly, teasingly spread apart. The book in his hand was not one you recognized, but then his taste in literature was slightly more… sophisticated than yours. But that just made it all so much more enticing didn’t it? The thought of this gorgeously dark, winged male consuming deep, meaningful art? It would make any sane person fall to their knees. 

The hazel of his eyes didn’t show any sign of surprise as his gaze met yours. He knew you were coming, most likely courtesy of the shadows leisurely curling around his shoulders. Cauldron, was he a sight…

… And your friend. Unfortunately.

“Are you just going to stand there all night or will you eventually move?” Right, right. How long had your feet been rooted to the floor? Judging by the humorous tone of his voice and that boyish sparkle in his eyes, probably a tad too long. 

Forcing your body to take a step, and another, you tried to think of something – anything to say. 

“Sorry, I–... I just didn’t expect you to be here is all,” liar, “I guess you caught me by surprise”. It wasn’t the best excuse in the world, but with the situation at hand it could have been a lot worse. Like, a lot. Besides, it’s not like you could have told him the truth.

Sorry Azriel, it’s just that I have been desperately yearning for you for the last couple of years and seeing you like this, looking all boyfriend-y, has me nearly swallowing my own tongue because of how perfect you look. I am just humiliatingly obsessed with every single little thing you do, as well as horrifyingly lonely to a default. In a non creepy way, of course. 

… You would rather free-dive off the dining room balcony before ever admitting that to him. 

His brows furrowed as he observed you, like he could see the lie written across your face, before humming lightly, almost as to himself. He reached a hand out to the glass resting on the coffee table and brought it to his lips, taking a sip of the amber liquid inside. Your eyes were trained on his mouth as he lowered the glass. Trained on the candlelight reflected in the alcohol wetting his lips. Those shiny, pouty, full–

His tongue slipped out and delicately swiped across his lower lip, licking off the remnants of the whiskey from the glass in his hand, and it took everything in you to not whimper at the sight. 

Cauldron boil you.

Needing something to ground yourself, you made your way over to pour yourself a glass of whatever Azriel was drinking and collapsed beside him on the couch, trying to roll that stubborn stiffness out of your shoulders.

”Can’t sleep either?” He asked you on a slight chuckle. 

“No, not with them going at it like bunnies,” you sighed, “how is it even possible for Cassian to… you know? I mean, not only is it day after day, but all night, non-stop? You need– I mean not you specifically, I don’t know anything about your sexual habits, just– just males in general,” oh Gods, “you– you need to rest, at some point – right?”

Azriel took in your flustered state, and pursed his lips as if to keep from laughing. His amusement did not help your case at all, only making the heat crawl further up your neck, your ears positively aflame. 

“I guess the mating bond has its perks,” he surmised, and you couldn’t escape the huff that exited your nose. 

That damned mating bond. The very one the Mother seemed to be handing out left to right lately, to everyone except you. And Azriel. But unlike you, he was a damn catch and could have anyone he’d like. 

“Am I an absolute wench for being jealous of Nesta? And Elain? And Feyre?” You whined as you threw your head back on the couch.

“Not at all,” Azriel’s raspy voice comforted you, easing the tightness in your stomach. You still felt like one though; Nesta was your best friend and you were happy for her, but still–

“It’s just so unfair! They were born like, yesterday! I have been suffering through a mostly miserable existence for over five centuries now and I have never even come close to a connection like they have,” you rolled your neck, “I am over the moon for them, don’t get me wrong, and I hate to make their happiness about me–“

“But being alone around people who… aren’t, can be very lonely,” Azriel finished and your heart clenched as you looked at him. Beautiful, kind, caring Azriel. One of your best friends, and the male you were hopelessly, devastatingly in love with. 

Knowing he, too, was hurting was painful in itself, but also slightly comforting. Knowing you weren’t alone in your loneliness. 

“You’re in pain,” he mumbled, and you opened your mouth to answer, but you couldn’t. Because it wasn’t really a question was it? “Your shoulders,” he noted, “they’re tense.”

“Oh, it’s fine, really. Nothing to worry about, just a small kink,” you tried to brush it off, but he looked at you with such intensity it made your whole body tingle.

“No it’s not,” it was like he could see right through you, “No, you have been worrying your neck ever since you sat down.” He pondered a moment before he sat up a little straighter beckoning for you to move closer. “Come on, let me help you with that.”

Your mouth fell open. 

Was he insinuating he wanted to rub your back? Your half naked, barely-nightgown-clad back. With his hands. Those magical, beautiful hands. Oh Gods.

Your attempt of a protest died in your throat at the slight raise of his eyebrows. He was not to argue with.

He marked the page he was on and placed his book down on the table in front of you, his eyes not straying from you once. Like he was afraid you would bolt if he looked away, even just for a second. 

In his defense, you very well might have.

A shaky breath released from your lungs as you put your glass down and readjusted your position on the couch until you were situated between his legs. With your back facing him, you carefully pulled your hair over one shoulder to give him better access, trying to block out the thoughts of how incredibly warm those bite-able thighs of his were.

The warm calluses of his hands on your skin set you ablaze, and as he carefully started to massage out the knots in your upper back you swore you could have melted, then and there. 

You couldn’t help leaning in to his skillful touch. You also couldn’t help the breathy groan that escaped you as he started to work on a particularly tense area. 

Or how your heart rate picked up as you heard what you swore was Azriel’s breath hitching in response. 

You basked in the intimacy of the moment, fully enjoying all of his undivided attention. 

The gesture, the moment, it all felt so domestic and comforting that the constant emptiness in your chest started to close over. Even if just for now. Even if it was all borrowed; a lovely, elusive fantasy – you let yourself feel whole. 

You barely registered his hands slowing to a stop, or the new found looseness in your shoulders. Barely registered as his hands slid down your arms and slowly tugged you back towards his chest. 

Not until you were engulfed in his warmth, his arms wrapped around you did you realize how well you fit together.

Like two pieces of a puzzle.

“Be lonely with me tonight,” his breath tickled your ear, “please.”

You knew it probably wasn’t wise. That tomorrow, when all of this would be gone, the hurt would resurface. The loneliness even heavier than before. But you couldn’t get yourself to care. To tell him no. Tell yourself no.

Instead you burrowed deeper in his embrace, closed your eyes, and even if just for tonight, you let his warmth fill the void in your chest. 

Until that void had been replaced by a vibrating, golden, glow.

[jadenvargen]

If I want to study someone's art or style, how do I do that? Like where do you even start when looking at an illustration that they made 😭thank you!!!

Here’s stuff i think about. i don’t do that many style studies, so idunno how helpful it is! pls sound in tha comments if anyone has tips:) 

Pinpoint what stuff you like, and focus on that. Focus on technique rather than exact replication, for example ( just first thing comes to mind) if you like rostov’s disco elysium cover art and want to study it, don’t just repaint the image, find what’s key in the style. looseness, maybe? then, instead of copying the image with your technique, try to apply the same looseness. (feat. shitty 5 min sketch plz dont judge example of how i normally approax paintings, versus a study. ALSO not to say u CANT do this it's just how i would study, myself. )

That being said, don’t force yourself to make art decisions that feel unnatural to you. a lot of the time artists make decisions based on their weaknesses as well as strengths. I do very shaky, hatchy lineart because my hands are very shaky. I focus on painting what I* feel is important and fun. 

Instead of copying a style from a picture, look at a variety of pictures and find technique. For example a lot of people redrawing a screenshot in “sailor moon style” or “ghibli style” will draw… let’s say, an old man, looking like a usagi because that’s the screenshot they looked at, instead of watching what stylistic choices for example takeuchi made when stylizing an old man. So the “studies” end up homogenous. I personally find it unproductive to replicate a painting for purposes of study, but like focusing on individual elements. say you like egon schiele, replicating whole paintings at a time IMO isn't gonna do much, but maybe you can set out on a series where you sketch copy his hands or feet from different paintings, and then try stylizing your own hands the same way? Or maybe your fave artist draws moonlight like a blue stream, or a red one? Try applying only that light to your paintings.

You could also color pick or look at the colors they make and paint whatever you want with those same colors, to understand how they work together and what can be done with them.

Also, if you can, look at their influences! Everyone learns art by seeing others art. Chances are they saw art they liked and picked from there what elements they enjoyed. Looking at the inspiration can help make some of the techniques more obvious.

Basically focus less on copying(not that copying is bad- but not always helpful for studying), and more on what you like. If you find what you like, you can work from there and try to think about your own art from the same perspective.

IDK if this helps as i said, feel free to add onto^_^

[makoodles]

ミ the mightiest

part one | part two

🍓 pairing: neteyam x human fem reader

🍓tags: nsfw, aged up neteyam (obviously), jealousy, alien cultural misunderstandings, oral sex (f receiving) vaginal sex, size kink, voyeurism, brief na'vi oc x reader, mentions of reader sleeping with other na'vi men

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

notes: adult neteyam art created by the incredibly talented @cinetrix, whose work motivated me to write for adult neteyam in the first place!!

It was just a fluke, you tell yourself. A moment of weirdness that had come about because… because…

Okay, so you can’t really explain it.

You don’t like Neteyam! You never have! The sight of him appearing while you’re mid-rendezvous with Txetyo (the same man he had interrupted you with only a few days before!) should have sent you into an angry tailspin. And yet, you can’t forget the pulse of excitement that had throbbed low in your belly when you realised that he was standing there watching you.

Really, you should have been the one to speak up. But it was like your brain had switched off, like all your rational thoughts had gone on a temporary leave of absence; why else would you have stayed silent instead of stopping Txetyo and drawing attention to Neteyam’s presence?

Just like after your last confusing encounter with Neteyam in the healing hut, you end up sticking close to the human outpost for the next week.

It’s probably a little cowardly to hide instead of facing your problems head on, but you don’t care. You avoid Neteyam, you avoid Txetyo, you avoid any of the guys you’ve had flings with before because even the sight of them reminds you of what had happened that night in the forest. Inevitably, that leads to you avoiding the village entirely.

The outpost is as boring as ever, but it’s better than facing the mortification that’s no doubt awaiting you in the village. But at the very least, it’s not lonely.

Spider is kind enough to keep you company in the outpost for the first few days, though you quickly wish he wouldn’t. There’s not much to do, and Spider never deals well with boredom.

“Quit that.” You grit out, your eyes sliding sideways.

Spider is sitting next to you, drumming his fingers insistently on his thighs. He sighs, rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling and leaning back on the lumpy couch you’re both sprawled on.

“This is mind-numbing.” He complains, throwing his dirty bare feet over your thighs. “It’s so boring here. I don’t think I’ve ever spent this much time inside in my whole life.”

“You don’t have to be here.” You remind him, shoving his feet off you.

Spider sighs, swinging his legs back to the ground so he can sit up properly. “Right, sure. I could leave you here alone to mope all day by yourself in your dank little bedroom. Or you could tell me what’s going on with you.”

You grumble, and avert your eyes. Okay, so maybe your avoidance has been a little more obvious than you had intended. You’ve barely missed a day in the village your whole life, and yet in the last two weeks you’ve spent most of your time hiding out in the outpost.

“Nothing’s going on.” You say, and it rings hollow even to your own ears.

Spider purses his lips. He seems pointedly unconvinced, and stretches back on the couch with his arms across the back of the headrest.

“So it has nothing to do with whatever the hell happened when you went off with Txetyo during the hunt celebrations?”

You almost wince, but manage to keep your expression neutral as you stare at your knees. “Nope.”

Spider hums. “And I suppose the fact that Neteyam very conspicuously disappeared into the forest about ten seconds after you left is also unrelated.”

That cracks your composure, and you take a shaky breath as you glance sideways at Spider’s face. He doesn’t look like he’s judging you or anything; he’s just waiting patiently for your answer, a single eyebrow raised.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You mutter, avoiding his eyes.

There’s a long pause, and then Spider huffs out a sigh and tilts his head back to stare at the water-stained ceiling up above you. You feel a little bad about keeping secrets from him; usually you and Spider act as each other’s confidants by virtue of the fact that the two of you are humans the same age amongst all the Na’vi. But this whole mess with Neteyam is something that you’re struggling to wrap your own head around – you don’t want to start explaining the whole mortifying ordeal to someone who was as good as your brother.

“Lo’ak’ll get it out of you.” Spider says confidently.

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Please tell me he’s not coming over.”

“He’s worried.” Spider protests. “You’ve been acting super weird, dude.”

“He’s nosey.” You correct.

Spider shrugs, unable to argue that point. “Well, whatever.”

It’s as if speaking his name summons him, because the shoddy linoleum floor creaks behind you as a big nine-feet-tall body steps into the room. You catch a glimpse of bright blue skin out of the corner of your eye and groan, tipping your head back against the back of the couch and closing your eyes.

“Seriously, I am not in the mood to be interrogated by the Idiot Brigade today.” You complain. “Can’t you come back and bother me another time?”

There’s a pause. And then, a low voice filled with amusement says, “Am I a member of this “idiot brigade?”

That is not Lo’ak’s voice.

For a moment, you don’t even turn around. You just breathe slowly, your eyes shut tight. Maybe if you don’t turn and look, Neteyam will just vanish from your presence as if he had never spoken at all.

But instead of Neteyam’s spontaneous disappearance, you get Spider shifting on the lumpy couch beside you before climbing to his feet. Your eyes shoot open at that, and your head whips around to stare at him in disbelief.

“Where are you going?” You hiss, already reaching out after him.

Spider stops, hesitates, his eyes flicking between you and Neteyam. He looks as though he would rather be literally anywhere other than here; you know the feeling.

“Uh… I’m gonna go find Lo’ak.” Spider mutters, his eyes darting around cagily. “Seems like you two probably need time to talk some things out.”

Before you can even protest that, Neteyam is stepping forward, marching his way around the couch. You sit up, properly startled now, realising that your window for escape is rapidly narrowing.

“Tell Lo’ak not to come.” Neteyam says simply, stepping nimbly around the couch so that he’s in front of you. It’s like he knows that you were thinking of an escape, because he tilts his head as a subtle smile tugs at his mouth.

“Yeah. Got it.” Spider sounds a little strangled, sending you a look that you can’t quite decipher before turning and scampering out the door, letting it slide shut behind him with a quiet thud.

You stare at him for a long moment, your mouth hanging open like a moron. Neteyam just stares back, his expression even, as though he’s waiting for you to speak first.

You swallow thickly, then push yourself up so that you’re standing. It’s a weak attempt to put yourself on a more even level with him, but it fails as you find yourself eye-level with his damn belly button.

“What are you doing here?” You snap, though it comes out a little weaker than you had intended.

Neteyam doesn’t answer immediately. Instead he gingerly lowers himself down onto the ancient lumpy couch that you and Spider had commandeered for yourselves from the desolate wreckage of Bridgehead. He’s almost comically large for it, his knees bent awkwardly up as he settles back, the springs creaking ominously.

“You have been avoiding the village.” He says simply.

And… oh god, you can’t stop staring. It’s stupid, because you’ve known Neteyam your whole life, you know what he looks like. But it’s like your eyes are taking him in differently now. You hadn’t spent much time with him as kids; you were always chasing after Lo’ak, Kiri, and Spider, and Neteyam usually maintained a distance as he trained under the guidance of his parents. And then he was gone, departed for the reef villages, only to return after the worst of the war years had passed.

But it’s different now. He’s a man, his shoulders broader than ever and his muscles more defined than is typical of the Omaticaya warriors – no doubt thanks to his time in the reefs with the bulkier Metkayina.

Your mouth is a little dry; it’s not a good time to be reminded that you find big, muscly Na’vi men really, really attractive.

“Yeah.” You say, your voice scratchy. “Uh… I’ve been busy.”

Neteyam’s hairless brow raises in an unspoken gesture of doubt as he leans back into the couch. Your eyes dart down nervously over his abdomen. Each sculpted abdominal muscle speaks of his physical prowess and the sheer discipline and dedication to his training, and his slim waist is accentuated by the woven battle band around his waist. Fuck, you want to touch his belly.

You can hardly believe that you had this man’s cock in your hand, or that he had been grunting and fucking your fist. Maybe you had hallucinated that. Looking at him like this, taking in his big amber eyes and strong jawline and high cheekbones, you’re reminded rather harshly of just why he’s one of the most sought-after men in the village by the unmated Omaticaya girls. It seems unlikely that he’d ever lower himself to allow himself to be touched by you.

And yet, you know you hadn’t hallucinated him standing only mere feet from you in the forest, watching intently as Txetyo had railed you into the mossy ground.

As if he knows what you’re thinking, Neteyam speaks again. “Avoiding Txetyo? I do not blame you.

You almost choke at that. Good lord, the audacity of this man. He knows perfectly well that you’ve also been trying to avoid him, judging by the smug look on his face.

“No! He- he wasn’t so bad.” You protest, though the words ring unconvincingly in your own ears.

“Tawtute, you’re so tight!” Neteyam gasps mockingly, lowering his voice into a dude-bro register that decidedly does not sound like Txetyo. “Fuck, you’re so wet, I’m gonna cum—"

You squawk, hastily stepping forward to swat ineffectually at his shoulder. “Will you shut up, that’s not what–“

Neteyam grabs at your wrist when you smack his shoulders, his long fingers wrapping all the way around you before tugging. You stagger, pulled off balance as he tugs you onto the couch beside him. You end up with your limbs in an ungainly sprawl as you attempt to collect yourself beside him, flustered behind belief. He doesn’t let go of your wrist.

“And he– he made me finish, so.” You say lamely. You’re sitting next to him. Why are you sitting next to him? You should be trying to shove him up off the couch and shoo him out the door.

“I’m pretty sure you made yourself come.��� Neteyam corrects, his head tilting. His glossy braids spill over his shoulders, colourful beads clicking together. “Which wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t there, by the way.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just pointing out the obvious.” Neteyam’s smug little grin is growing, and he leans in a little closer. “I don’t think you were enjoying it at all until I showed up.”

You gape at him, stunned.

“I- you-!” You stammer, your breath catching from the sheer swell of your indignation. Who does he think he is, showing up here all muscled and gorgeous like this only to embarrass you?

“Speak for yourself!” You finally manage to splutter, trying to sit up on the couch; Neteyam’s grip on your wrist prevents you from going too far, so you give up and resign yourself to being stuck beside him until he grows bored of tormenting you. “Txetyo was– That was pretty much par for the course. I mean– it wasn’t unusual, sometimes that’s just how sex goes–“

Neteyam sits up straight, so suddenly that it startles you. His brow is furrowed, his eyes flicking rapidly over your face as though he’s trying to assess if you’re being honest.

He’s… he’s leaning in rather close to you. You blink at him, but don’t move back. It’s so rare for you to be around Neteyam without your respirator mask acting like a shield over your face, and you feel a little naked now without it.

“That was a standard experience for you?” He asks, and his voice has… changed a little. That smug amusement on his face has vanished, replaced with what looks like bewilderment.

You scoff at his surprise, rolling your eyes. “Shouldn’t you know what my standard experience is? You’ve interrupted enough of them.”

He doesn’t respond to your snarky remark. He just stares at you as if he’s examining you, and you shift awkwardly on the couch, unsure in the face of his scrutiny.

“What, you’re surprised that all men aren’t sex gods?” You ask a little testily. “They want to experiment with a Sky Person, and I like sex with Na’vi men, so… win-win.”

Neteyam just frowns, pulling back a little. “No, that’s not… I don’t understand. Why do you spend time with them if they are not successful in pleasuring you?”

Boy, is that a loaded question. You don’t want to explain to Neteyam that it’s not really about sex, that it’s more about a pathological need for physical connection and comfort, especially when you try your very hardest not to think about it yourself.

“Maybe I’m just hoping one of them will really impress me.” You mumble, a little sourly. “I guess I’ll keep holding out hope.”

Neteyam’s ears flatten, pressing low against his head as his eyes widen a little. He shifts, his body looming over you like a big blue behemoth as the couch springs squeal beneath his weight.

“I could.” He says. “Impress you, I mean.”

You snort, glancing up at him with a wry sort of smile that falls off your face almost immediately when you see the look on Neteyam’s face. His expression is perfectly earnest, his jaw set and his pupils dilated with an odd sort of urgency that you’ve never seen from him. He… he doesn’t look as though he’s making fun of you at all.

“What?” You croak, blinking.

And then you realise what all this about. Neteyam is always so determined to prove himself, to be the best at everything. He’s always pushed himself beyond his limits and worked himself to the bone to be stronger and faster and wiser, to be a better leader and a better hunter and a better fighter. You probably shouldn’t even be surprised that now he’s decided to prove that he’s better than his peers at fucking you, too.

“This is just a competition for you, isn’t it?” You scoff, yanking your wrist out of his hand. He shifts forward on the couch then as though preparing to catch you if you move to run, but you’re not making any move to leave.

“No. They are not worthy competitors.” Neteyam scoffs as if the question is absurd. “This is to prove to you that you have been wasting your time with men who are not capable of pleasing you.”

You scoff again, but it’s a much weaker sound this time. “I–”

“You have bad taste in men, paskalin.” Neteyam murmurs, shuffling closer on the ancient couch.

You stare up at him, your breath catching a little in your chest. God, he’s so much bigger than you. You hate that it’s making your body heat up, and you feel yourself growing wet as he leans in close, smelling like fresh water and the forest.

“Are you going to let me?” Neteyam whispers, reaching out to trace a finger along your jawline. “Let me prove myself.”

You should say no. You should tell him to leave, to get out. You should absolutely not feed into his own ego by fucking him.

“Yes,” You breathe stupidly. “Okay.”

You’re expecting him to grab you immediately and flip you around onto either your back or stomach; in all your previous experiences, you’ve gotten right down to it with your partners. But to your surprise, Neteyam leans in and holds your hips with his big hands as he presses his mouth to yours in a kiss.

Kissing is not something that you’re used to; the Na’vi you’ve hooked up with have stayed clear of the human outpost, unlike the Sully kids who had paid frequent visits, which means that all of your sexual encounters have occurred in the forest or in empty corners in the village with your respirator mask firmly attached to your face.

Now your face feels naked and vulnerable, and you gasp shakily against Neteyam’s mouth when he leans in and kisses you firmly.

It’s slow and deep, at first. All-consuming. It lights a fire in your gut, which expands and spreads throughout your body.

Neteyam doesn’t just kiss with his mouth, either. He kisses with his hands, his whole body. He clutches you to him, holding you close even as the force of his kiss bends you backward, your body pressing into the raggedy couch cushions.

At the same time, it’s all you can do to concentrate and respond to the kiss itself, your attention stretched and strained by the feeling of Neteyam’s hands running over you, stroking your sides and clutching your neck and squeezing your ass.

“Hah,” You gasp out when Neteyam’s lips slide sideways to find the corner of your jaw. His mouth is hot against your skin, bruising, and you’re embarrassingly wet already, just from a little kissing.

Fuck, he’s a good kisser. That’s so annoying.

You run out of breath too fast, and you have to gasp. Neteyam breaks the kiss for barely even a second, and shifts some of his weight to his elbows as he follows you down onto the couch, nuzzling and nipping at your jaw before returning to your mouth.

There’s a hand on either side of your head during that blink-and-you-miss-it break in the kiss, but then he moves his big hands to hold onto your face like they’re afraid you’ll escape, and now they don’t want to let go at all. One of his hands cups your jaw, the other clasping around the back of your neck and tilting your head farther back, deeper into the couch, opening you up. You think about the fact that he can thread his fingers together behind your head with his palms pressed to your cheeks and nearly moan like a whore into his mouth.

Neteyam’s eagerness surprises you. The kiss is messy and graceless and airless and greedy, frantic and full of teeth, and you can only roll your hips in reflex, in mindless desperation, in a feeble attempt to buck, your mind repeating a refrain of yes holy shit holy shit YES. You can’t even squirm, because holy hot fuck Neteyam is heavy, and he’s got every inch of you covered and owned.

God, have you always been this easy? Just kiss you, feel you up a little and want you enough and you’ll end up happily whimpering under someone on the couch? Even someone like Neteyam, who you’ve been so resentful of for so long?

You spread your thighs, and Neteyam’s narrow hips slot into place like a damn puzzle piece. Neteyam hums a small laugh and pauses, pulls back an inch or so, gazing steadily at your lips and smoothing the tips of his thumbs back and forth over your cheekbones. He takes a moment to fumble with his respirator and takes a deep breath before dropping it and leaning down to kiss you again.

“Oh, fuck.” You whimper, your eyes fluttering shut when his hips roll fluidly against you.

You pull back from the kiss, just enough to get a look at his face. His eyes are a little clouded, his lips puffy and spit-slicked. He looks dazed, and there's a thin line of saliva connecting your mouths together. His brow scrunches in a frown, as though you pulling away from him is a personal offence.

Oh god, you think. I'm so fucked.

The hand that had been cupping your cheek releases you, slides down your body as well. Your breath hitches when he passes over your breasts, drags down the plush skin of your belly, before reaching in between your thighs to cup at your pussy over your clothes. His hand tightens, grabbing you. Cunt, pubic bone, the whole shebang, all of it right there in the palm of Neteyam’s shockingly big hand.

“Bedroom.” You gasp, your head spinning as he just holds your cunt over your denim shorts. “Bedroom now.”

Neteyam grins, and wraps his arms around your waist to haul you into his arms before he lifts you off the couch and practically staggers down the hall. His excitement surprises you, and you cling to his neck as he ducks his way through the corridor.

Mercifully the outpost is quiet today, with most of its human occupants out in the forest or in the village – that means there’s no one around the witness the sight of Neteyam’s enormous blue ass squeezing himself in through the small doorway of the closet-like bedroom you’d claimed for yourself, with you dangling from his arms like a doll.

You’re still breathing hard when Neteyam clumsily gets the door shut before placing you on your squeaky old bed, following you down on it. He’s careful not to crush you with the bulk of his body, instead resting his weight on his forearms where they’re planted on either side of your head.

The consideration makes something squirm in your belly, and you reach up to intertwine your fingers at the back of his head and pull him down to resume kissing him.

Neteyam rolls his hips into yours, and you can feel the thick ridge of his erection pressing into the seam of your shorts, right over your clit. The sound you make is absolutely humiliating, and you will deny ever making it until your last breath, but you twitch as you try to catch that exact same friction again.

And fuck, kissing like this may be new to you, but you never want to stop. You didn’t even know that kissing with tongue could feel so erotic; Neteyam’s hands are on your face again, angling you this way and that way and however the fuck Neteyam feels like angling you, and goddamn he must be doing it just because he can.

You try desperately to remember any little kissing tricks you’ve learned and draw a pathetic blank. Luckily, Neteyam seems intent on showing off. His creativity is more than enough to occupy you both, and you’re too busy being excruciatingly horny to really be self-conscious anyway.

Besides, your next exhale is a chest-rattling groan, and if Neteyam’s immediate grunt of approval and slow thirsty grind against your trapped body is any indication, then you're doing just fine by his standards.

But then, to your absolute distress, Neteyam pulls away.

“Hhh — Shit! Shit, hang on. Shit.” Neteyam hisses, turning his face away and levering himself up on his arms. He’s breathing hard, and the sound of the English curse words falling out of his mouth in that strained tone of voice has your thighs squeezing together pathetically.

“What?” You ask, your voice sounding dazed and stupid even to your own ears.

Neteyam huffs out a few centering breaths and then shakes out his head to clear it. He fumbles for the respirator, takes several deep gulps of air before dropping it again. He angles his hips away from you for a moment, breathing steadily.

“Why’d you stop?” You hate the way the words come out as a whine; you feel as though you’re losing your mind, as though you’re actually going to die if he doesn’t keep kissing you.

Neteyam breathes out a quiet laugh, sounding a little disbelieving as he drops his forehead down to rest on your shoulder.

“Fuck.” He whispers, but he doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he pushes himself down your body, sliding between your legs.

When he tugs your shorts, you lift your hips eagerly to help him shuck your pants off. As he’s tugging at your panties, you work on yanking your oversized pyjama shirt off you. It feels as though the two of you are descending into a frenzy, touching and kissing and tearing at each other like animals.

When you’re naked beneath him you shiver, staring up at him in eager anticipation. You wait for him to come back up and kiss you, to take his own loincloth off and stick his cock into you, but he doesn’t. Instead, his head bullies its way in between your thighs.

“No,” You whine, making a face. You don’t want him to waste time with eating you out when you’re ready now. “Just put it in.”

Neteyam shoots you a reproachful look as though he thinks you’re acting crazy. “You said you would let me please you.”

“But–” You frown, feeling a little ridiculous for having this conversation when his big head is blinking up at you from between the pudge of your thighs. “You don’t have to. I don’t enjoy getting head all that much anyway.”

But instead of changing his mind, that just makes him snort as though you’d told a damn joke.

“Let me show you, syulang.” He whispers, turning his head and brushing his lip over the soft skin of your inner thigh. He kisses you there, and then sucks a hickey-like bruise into the squidge there.

And damn, you can’t turn him down.

“Fine.” You sigh, a little irritated, and spread your legs wider so that Neteyam can muscle his way in.

He grins as if he knows something you don’t, grabs your legs and pulls them so your thighs are hanging off his big broad shoulders. You can feel his warm breath ghosting over you between your legs, and you prepare to lie back and let him lick you down there until he deems you’re wet enough to start fucking you properly.

But then he actually gets his mouth on you, and… oh. Oh.

You tilt your head back, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. That feels… better than you had expected, actually.

Each of Neteyam’s movements are calculated, precise. He laps against your clit, then closes his lips and sucks. You nearly yelp, but manage to tamp down on your reaction and merely wheeze instead. Neteyam points his tongue and presses inside of you, sucks and licks like he’s actually eating something. At one point, he even bites, and you jerk so hard that you accidentally grind against his face.

It’s not like any of the head you have ever received. You’ve enjoyed it before, sure, but it’s never felt like this, and it’s definitely never made you come. And yet, to your honest surprise, you can feel a familiar coil of tension beginning to build deep in your abdomen.

“Oh god.” You breathe, sounding a little bewildered.

You feel his tongue against your clit again, hardly noticing that his hands are gripping at your ass until he yanks you forward as he buries his whole damn face between your legs. His fingers return, delving into you, deep and searching. His mouth works against your clit and it feels like you’re being squeezed between the kinds of pleasure, worshipped and wrung out and attacked all at once.

“Neteyam,” You gasp like a fool. “Oh, what the fuck, it– Neteyam, hang on, it’s too–”

Neteyam is still devouring you, sucking hard and persistent until you cry out. You try to clench your thighs around his head as he laps at you like a man starved, but his hands are still on your thighs, locking you in an iron grip, keeping you spread wide for him, and you can hardly breath because every time you think to try and take a breath his tongue is moving over your clit again and he’s sucking against you.

Your head swims, and you wonder why on earth you had been so resistant to allow him to make you feel good like this. Fuck, have you just been getting really bad head this whole time? You didn’t even know it could feel like this.

Your heels are digging into his back, and the closer he brings you to the edge the harder your thighs clamp around his head. He barely seems to notice the force you’re exerting, merely groaning to himself everytime you squeeze tighter.

Your thoughts splinter and unravel, and you can do nothing but buck uselessly against his hold, desperately chasing more of his lips and his tongue.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god.” You chant, eyes squeezed shut tight as you whine.

He's just so good with his tongue, and you’ve never felt like this in your life. It feels as though you can't breathe properly, as though you’re melting from the inside out. None of those awkward, fumbling sexual encounters with those other Na’vi ever had you feeling like this.

Your breasts are heaving with the effort it takes just to breathe through the white hot pleasure crashing through you, and you stare down at him with wide eyes as he suckles again at your clit. When he sees you looking down at him, he throws you a cheeky wink as he laps at you.

You let out a helpless, gasping laugh at him, your hands clenching compulsively in his braids. Your giggle has him pulling back a little so he can look up at you properly; the grin he shoots you is extra shiny thanks to the fact that the lower half of his face is covered in his spit and your own slick, but he looks dopey and happy.

You manage one word, on a long and broken moan- “Please!”

Neteyam laughs quietly, the sound vibrating through his lips and into your pussy, but then his tongue is on your clit again, sucking you into his mouth, and you’re shattering around him as he finally pushed you over that edge you’ve been teetering on.

You keen and shake violently, spasming around Neteyam’s fingers and jerking into his mouth, coming so hard that you see black spots in your vision. Neteyam doesn’t let up, pulling broken moans out of you with tongue until you’re writhing.

You squirm and whimper until suddenly it’s too damn much, and then you’re reaching down to push at Neteyam’s neat braids to try to get away from his relentless tongue. Damn, he’s acting like he’s hungry for you, like he’d swallow you whole if he could. He doesn’t let up until you’re begging him to, albeit wordlessly — whimpering and shoving at his face, trying to arch away from the too-sensitive touch.

Finally, Neteyam relents. He lowers your legs from his shoulders and you practically crumple, going limp against your mattress. Neteyam’s face is wet and shiny, and he looks ridiculously smug. You’re still trembling, throbbing with the aftershocks.

“Mm, you sound so pretty.” Neteyam murmurs, his words coming out muffled and almost slurred as though he’s drunk.

“Fuck.” You whisper to yourself, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes as you struggle to catch your breath.

Neteyam hums, pressing kisses all over your pubic mound and lower belly. He seems so damn pleased with himself, pushing himself up your body so that he can nuzzle into your neck, pressing sweet nipping kisses to your throat.

His breathing is a little strained, and you grab blindly at the respirator hanging around his neck before bringing the mask up to his face.

“Breathe, Neteyam.” You gasp out, still a little breathless yourself.

He grunts, as though irritated over something of secondary importance, and takes a couple of deep breaths before dropping the mask again. His pupils are blown so wide that his iris is barely visible, just a thin ring of gold around a pool of black.

You laugh, panting and overwhelmed at the sight of his shiny face, and reach up to wipe his slick face with the palms of your hands. He huffs a quiet laugh of his own, turning his face towards your hands and nuzzling against you like an oversized cat.

“That was… that was better than I expected.” You say, still struggling to collect yourself.

Neteyam’s smile turns a little sly, his teeth flashing as he kisses at your palms. “Impressed?”

And you can’t help but laugh at that, feeling as though this whole situation is spinning around far beyond your wildest imagination. Fuck, he’s really giving his all to this, just to prove to you that he’s superior to the other men of the clan.

“Not yet.” You whisper, biting your lip and hoping that he takes it as the challenge/invitation you mean it to be.

And luckily he does, his smile only growing.

“I should keep going then.” He murmurs, his hands stroking up your sides.

He gently caresses both breasts, a little knead of big, rough hands that can cover much more than just one tit and you love it. Your back arches as you shiver, revelling in how bizarrely gentle he’s being with you.

“Yes,” You whisper eagerly, your legs spreading further until the muscles of your inner thighs are burning with the strain of it. “You definitely should.”

You reach out to tug at the band of his loincloth, your fingers actually trembling a little as you try to unknot it at the sides. Neteyam’s own breath hitches, and his much more nimble fingers reach to help you untie it and draw it away.

And fuck, now he’s naked too. You sit up eagerly, peering down between your bodies to try and catch a look at him properly. You may have touched him that day in the healing hut, but it’s completely different seeing him.

He’s big. So big. All the Na’vi are big when compared to you, of course, but this just… it feels different, because this is Neteyam. His cock is the same pretty blue shade as the rest of him, decorated with darker stripes and pretty glowing tanhì. Your heart thumps recklessly at sight of it twitching towards his belly, and you reach out towards it eagerly.

Your small fingers wrap around the hard length of him — he’s too thick for you to comfortably hold in one hand, but that doesn’t seem to matter because he groans appreciatively anyway when you run your fingers down his length and then back up, feeling warm and sticky precome gushing from the tip to coat your fingers.

“Ah!” Neteyam groans breathily, his hips rocking as your hand slides up the long, velvety length of him. “Fuck… so good.”

You feel like you’re burning up, your skin sweat-slick and far too hot. The weight of his cock in your hand has your head spinning; you want him inside of you, stretching you wide and fucking you deep. If he fucks as good as he eats pussy, you feel like you’re in for a very good time.

“C’mon,” You breathe, writhing a little. “You– you promised me that you’d.. That you would…”

“Mm, I promised I’d make you feel better than Txetyo ever could,” Neteyam finishes for you, leaning in to kiss your neck. “You like ‘em big and stupid, huh? That’s why they can’t please you, syulang.”

You toss your head back, your eyes fluttering shut as his sharp canines drag over the sensitive skin at the side of your throat. Fuck, maybe he’s right. None of those guys have ever made you feel this good before; you don’t think you’ve ever been this slick and eager in your whole life.

“God, you have such a big head,” You huff, quivering. “Maybe you’re big and stupid too.”

He just laughs at that, a dark chuckle that has your nerves buzzing, and leans down to nip at your shoulder hard enough to make you jerk beneath him. “I am not like Txetyo, or Art’alak, or Pewalsku, or Urtiltey.”

You scoff, before reaching up to push hard at his shoulders. You’re not actually strong enough to shift him, but he pulls back obediently, falling back to lay on his back on the bed. You rise up on your knees then, looming over him as he lays flat.

The way Neteyam is looking up at you, it’s like he’s seeing god. If he could worship you with just a look alone, he is. It’s a little overwhelming, and you feel something deep in your stomach knot just at the sight of him looking at you like that.

“Prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.” Neteyam whispers, reaching out to grip at your hips, guiding you into straddling his lap.

You don’t think anyone has ever talked to you like this, or looked at you like this. You hardly know what to do in the face of his attention, so you revert to what you’re familiar with; you settle yourself against his lap and grind there, feeling the length of his cock glide along the seam of your cunt.

It feels as though your belly has been set alight, and you take a slow breath as you rock against him. His lips drag from the base of your throat up the length of your neck, then he nips gently at the hinge of your jaw. The softness of his breath against the sensitive skin of your throat elicits a shiver from you, and Neteyam’s hands pull you closer when he feels your reaction.

You make a soft sound against his mouth when his fingers clench tight around your hips. His hold on you encourages you to grind down against him. It's not as though you really need the encouragement, but the way his eyes darken as he stares up at you is enough motivation for you to tilt your hips and grind down just like he wants you to.

"Fuck." He breathes, his eyes going half-lidded as he tilts his head back against your bed to watch you move above him.

Heat is growing alarmingly quickly in your lower belly and at the apex of your thighs, and you tremble over Neteyam as you use your grip on his shoulders for leverage. The soft sounds of pleasure that are pulled out of his throat every time you roll yourself against him send sparks through your entire nervous system; it feels as though you just can't get close enough to him.

Your patience runs out, unable to keep up the teasing; Neteyam seems to feel much the same. When you raise yourself up, chest heaving, Neteyam grabs at his cock and holds it still to allow you to settle against it, the head notched against your entrance. He glides over the opening again, pressing in the barest amount. You can already tell it’s going to be a stretch. Neteyam is thick, and you want it in you, want to feel it pressing you open.

You clench around the head of his cock, trying to pull him in, and Neyeyam groans.

“You’re—” He starts to say, his big hands clutching at your hips. “Shit. You’re tighter than I even imagined, paskalin.”

The idea that he might have imagined this is almost more than you can take, and you surge forward to kiss him again, your mouths clashing clumsily.

“You—you thought about it?” You manage to say, your words coming out a little muffled as he sucks at your lower lip.

He just rumbles a laugh, as though your question is ridiculous, and doesn’t even bother answering. Instead he places one hand securely under your ass, the other adjusting himself—there’s a short, sharp burst of pain as you felt him start to push in, just the tip and your head is spinning. Your nails are digging into his shoulders but if he feels anything it doesn’t show.

He kisses your cheek and then pushes in a little deeper as his mouth falls to yours once more—swallowing up your sharp cry as another inch sinks into you, and you feel like you’re splitting open.

Fuck, you feel as though not grabbing lube was probably a mistake; you were too cocky, too confident in your ability to take him, so sure that he’d be as adequately satisfactory as the other Na’vi men you’ve been with.

He goes in and in and in, pressing farther into you than you even thought was possible. The stretch and the pressure inside you is glorious, so tight that you can barely even flex around him. His mouth is open, each breath escaping him quickly, and you can see your own amazement reflected back to you on Neteyam’s face.

You dig your nails into his shoulders to offset the pain radiating through your core as he shoves himself deeper into you, chased by another wave of warmth as his free hand move between you, thumb settling gently over your clit.

“Ohmygod,” You gasp, pleasure mixing with that burning ache. You squeal, but your noises are half-moans as you try to rock your hips against his hand even as you try to ease the feeling of his girth inside you.

“Ungh..” Neteyam groans into you shoulder as he rocks another inch into you, until you’re sobbing and moaning by turns. “Oh. Fuck. Txetyo didn’t deserve this, syulang. Didn’t know what to do with you.”

You whimper in his grip as he just holds you there, buried to the hilt, thumb still working at your clit and sending frissons of electricity up and down your spine.

“Feels good,” You slur. “You feel good.”

Neteyam pulls out half an inch and fucks back into you from below, making your breath hitch. “Yeah?”

“So big,” You gasp. “I-I want—"

“I know, I know. I’ve got you,” Neteyam rumbles, his full lips brushing gentle kisses over your temple, right in your hairline. “Take what you want, lovely girl.”

And you do, rocking your hips and taking one of his enormous hands to pull between your legs so he can continue to rub at your clit with his fingers, so he can feel all the ways you’re leaking onto him as you lean forward to run your own hungry mouth along his collarbone, his pecs, as your hands grip his shoulders to try and lift yourself up and onto him over and over again.

It doesn’t take long for that coil in your belly to swell, sweet and hot. It’s as if Neteyam is intimately familiar with the way you want him to rub your clit, how you want it pinched but only just so between two fingers, as if he’s been taking fucking notes all those times he had walked in and interrupted you. It doesn’t take long until you’re trembling and squeezing impossibly tight around him, taut like a violin string.

It’s like Neteyam is puncturing your lungs, and every time he fucks into you, you respond with stupid sounding little ‘ah’ sounds.

“Ah, ah, ah!” You gasp, teary-eyed and desperate. Neteyam’s mouth is parted, his eyes wide. They flick over you quickly, drinking you in as you ride him.

Your movements are slow to build, but gradually you establish a steady, desperate rocking. It doesn't take long for you to realise that grinding in his lap feels better than raising yourself all the way up and down. Distantly, you feel little guilty — you know that grinding and rocking in his lap in the way that you are feels better for you than it does for Neteyam, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's watching you with a rapturous expression, his arms urging you closer so that your sweat-slicked chests are pressed close together and your foreheads are resting against each other.

You find a rhythm that both satisfies and stokes you, riding him with abandon as your thighs clench tight around his narrow hips. Neteyam’s hands slide from your hips down over your lower back, worshipful as they drift lower to clutch at your ass and use his grip there to help lift you up and down.

You ride him with mindless intent. His fingers dig at the meat of your ass, his mouth dropped softly open as he fights to keep his own breaths even — it takes a long moment for you to realise that he's fighting to keep himself still and to stop himself from thrusting wildly into you. His restraint and the realisation that he's really allowing you to have all the power in the exchange strikes you hard. You’ve never felt any real sense of agency in sexual intimacy until now, and the realisation that he's being so considerate of how you’re feeling only contributes to the intensifying of those flutters in your belly.

The rush builds in you, relentless, mounting with every jerk of your hips. There would be no catching your breath until it broke.

You rock on him, hard, hard and fast and there, there it is, that’s it — that perfect deep unfurling. A moan rises from the depths of your chest as you gasp at it, your body trembling. Neteyam just stares up at you, mouth open, eyes gone wide and dark.

The wave crests, the world explodes around you, a kaleidoscope of sensation as you come undone in his arms, trembling even as he keeps sliding home into you. You keep moving over him through the ebb of it, through the helpless little sounds that break from his throat. You’re still shuddering when he reaches up to take a firm hold of your waist. As though he can't help himself, his hips thrust up into you.

“Yes,” Neteyam hisses, his flat nose all scrunched up in a feral sort of pleasure. “That’s my girl.”

You tremble, gasp-moaning as your joints turn to jelly. Your orgasm very slowly gives way to thunderous aftershocks that rocket through your body every few seconds, shuddering your whole frame in intervals.

"Fuck," He groans, his breathing gone ragged. "I'm going to-"

He doesn't even finish his sentence before he seems to lose some of that iron control he's been exerting; his hips jolt up into you, and then again, until he's thrusting up into you with a sense of urgency that's almost breath-taking. All you can do is cling onto his hair and bury your face into the crook of his neck, attempting to muffle the embarrassing little gasping sounds that you’re making into his skin as his fucking into you prolongs the breath-taking pleasure of your orgasm.

You don’t fuss when his big hands use his grip on your ass to lift you up himself, fucking up into you and letting loose. Then he's shaking, stilling, spilling himself inside you, and you watch eagerly as his face goes slack and relaxed.

You don't go still immediately. Your hips keep rolling slow and steady as you tremble against him, chasing that feeling of molten shivery pleasure that's still burning in your belly even as it starts to turn into almost unbearable oversensitivity. It's not a fully conscious movement, as you’re moving mostly on instinct, and after a few moments Neteyam takes a hold of your hips to slow you to a stop.

He stays inside you like this for what feels like an eternity, spent and nestled deep inside you as you sit in his lap, slumped against his large strong chest.

"Oh my god," You whisper eventually as another pleasant shudder jolts down your spine. It feels as though you’ve been kicked in the chest, as though the breath has been knocked out of you entirely to make room for the lovely floaty lightness that's beginning to fill the space between your ribcage”

"Mm." Neteyam hums quietly, his fingers tightening in the soft flesh of your hips as he tilts his chin up to brush his lips over your sweaty temple. "Alright?”

No, You think, with no small amount of panic. You’re absolutely not alright. Neteyam may have just been fucking you to prove a point, because it’s always been so important to him that he’s perfect at everything he tries his hand at, but it feels as though he’s just cracked you wide open. You don’t think anyone will ever make you feel as good as he just did.

When you don’t immediately answer, one of his big palms cups the back of your neck so he can tilt your head back, and he leans down to kiss you again. He sucks your swollen bottom lip into his mouth so he can worry at it while you whine, toes curled where you tucked them under your legs, balanced on his thighs.

"Impressed?” He murmurs into your ear, his warm, dry hands stroking soothingly over your sweat-dampened skin.

You laugh despite yourself, and it comes out breathless and broken. “Fuck. I—yeah. Yeah. I’m impressed. Asshole.”

Neteyam’s expression brightens, his ears twitch back as his smile grows. He leans in and kisses you again, once, twice, then three times in quick succession, and out of the corner of your eye you see his tail coiling lazily against your sheets.

“Feel like I need to lay down,” You say. “For a week maybe.”

Neteyam just chuckles as you slowly lift your hips; when Neteyam slides out of you a soft sound of loss escapes from his mouth. You sympathise — you feel uncomfortably empty now that he's no longer nestled inside of you, but Neteyam is already gathering you into his arms and flopping back onto your mattress with you all curled up ontop of his chest.

It all feels so natural — you’ve never cuddled after intimacy like this, and you never would have imagined that Neteyam would allow you to do this. But it seems like he craves physical touch as badly as you does, because it feels as though his hands are everywhere as he holds you.

"Don't look so pleased with yourself, dickhead." You grumble, though you’re already relaxing under the pleasant warm weight of his hands

Neteyam’s smile only grows. "Why shouldn't I be pleased with myself? Have I left you unsatisfied?

You groan loudly, before burying your face in the pillow. The worst part is that it's true — you’ve never felt so satisfied in your life. You think that you could close your eyes and cheerfully float away on a cloud, but you don't want to suffer the humiliation of admitting that.

“I’m satisfied.” You admit, mortified. “It— yeah. You won that stupid competition. Well done.”

That has exactly the effect you had expected it to have; Neteyam’s chest puffs up where you’re laying across it, his eyes crinkling up as he grins. God, he’s so fucking smug.

You manage to swallow down your embarrassment so that you can ask the question that’s been knocking around your head since the first time he had kissed you.

“Can we… do that again, sometime?” You mutter, keeping your face pressed into his chest so he can’t see the vulnerability on your face.

Neteyam’s chest rumbles in a deep laugh, and his large palm settles between your shoulderblades.

“Whenever you want, yawntutsyìp. We have all the time in the world.” He murmurs, nuzzling his face into your hair. “Where ever you want. Here, the forest, my hut in the village—”

You laugh, blinking in surprise at his eagerness. You guess he must be absolutely pussy-whipped right now, which is pretty sweet.

“Next time we mate, we’ll do it in the forest so Txetyo can find us.” He says, and you can feel his teeth against the top of your head when he grins. “Let him watch as I make you scream again.”

"I did not scream!" You snap, embarrassed, reaching to smack at his chest. But then his words actually parse in your head, and you push yourself up quickly on top of his chest so you can look down at him, wincing a little at the ache between your legs.

Neteyam obviously catches your wince because he frowns and one of his hands reaches for your thigh, but you grab at his wrist as you gape at him.

“What the fuck did you just say?” You blurt.

That must have been a slip of his tongue. Every man you’ve been with before has been so damn careful to avoid the term mating, obviously terrified of you somehow getting the wrong idea; they made it painfully clear that it was just fucking, with no strings attached, because you were small and exotic and apparently the tightest thing they’ve ever gotten to put their dicks into.

Neteyam blinks owlishly, as though confused by your response. “What?” He asks, before his face relaxes. “Ah, it’s only the thought of me watching that does it for you?”

“No, it—” You blink at him. “You said… you said next time we… we mate.”

“Yes.” He says, wrapping one big arm around your waist to tug you back to him, as though he doesn’t like the fact that you’re shifting away. “I enjoyed mating here, where I can kiss your face, but it is very...”

He pauses then, and glances around your room. For the first time, you see it through his eyes; it’s small and dingy, the electric lights buzzing and flickering as they run on the ancient generator that Norm and a couple of the other older scientists had dragged from Bridgehead. Even though he’s gotten comfortable cuddling you on your bed, it’s far too small for him; his legs are hanging off the end of it, his feet flat against the floor. Compared to the fantastical natural homes of the Na’vi, your little bedroom seems like a shithole.

“You will be more comfortable in my hut in the village.” Neteyam says decisively, using the arm wrapped around your waist to pull you closer to his chest again. “I wish to take you in the forest, at Vitrautral, as is tradition.”

“Mating.” You repeat, just to check if you had heard him right. “We—that was mating.”

“Mhmm.” Neteyam’s hum sounds casual enough, but you can see the ridiculously pleased wave of his tail in the air behind him. “I told you that you were wasting time with those skxawngs, but I did not mind waiting for you. I did not like hearing them talk about you, about how you felt and how they pleased you, but… I knew I could prove myself a better prospect than all of them.”

“But—” You’re still struggling with this, staring at him with a bewildered expression. “But it—that was sex. It wasn’t—”

“I will take you to Vitrautral tomorrow, and mate you properly,” Neteyam murmurs, and you feel his big chest rumble beneath you in a pleased purr at the idea. “You do not need any other now. Yes?”

It feels almost too good to be true. Almost. Because damn, you want that so badly that it actually aches. After so many years of craving intimacy of any kind, it seems shockingly unlikely that it’s being offered by Neteyam, the very personification of an Omaticayan golden child. How have you gone from getting fucking in empty corners and deep in the forest to having the Olo’eyktan’s son talk about mating you?

You think of the herbs and plants he always brings to the healing hut, the bones and fibres he forages, the food he brings you after hunts. You had always thought he was just shoving how great he was in your face, but now all of that is starting to rearrange itself inside your head. Was he seriously just trying to impress you?

You laugh a little disbelievingly, and Neteyam’s arm tightens around you.

“I have a necklace,” He murmurs, nuzzling against your forehead. “Made with freshwater pearls from the ocean. I was going to give it to you earlier but—we got distracted. It is in my tewng—”

“Get it later,” You whisper, clinging to his chest. You’re so comfortable, you don’t want to move, just in case the moment slips away forever. He made you a necklace. Fuck, he made you a necklace! You’ve only ever seen Na’vi mating gifts from a distance; the thought of receiving one is beyond anything you’ve ever imagined.

Neteyam’s chest seems to swell, his expression brightening the moment you cling to him. He hugs you close, his purr now reminiscent of a damn chainsaw as he curls his whole big body around you.

Taking a chance, you do something that you’ve always sort of wanted to do, ever since you found out what it was; you reach behind him and take his kuru in your hand, feeling the thick, glossy protective braid in your fingers.

Neteyam shudders under you, his rumbling purr stuttering a little as his eyelids flitter, his eyes going dark. He doesn’t stop you, watching you with lightly parted lips as your hand closes around the most sacred, sensitive part of him.

“This is okay?” You whisper, your vulnerability clear in your voice.

“Of course,” He whispers back, as though the moment is a soap bubble that could burst at a slightly raised voice. “It is yours, syulang.”

Emboldened, you drag your fist down the glossy braid until you reach the end, where the glowing tendrils that make up the exposed manifestation of his nervous system. The fleshy pink tendrils writhe in the air, and you watch in eager amazement. You’ve only ever seen diagrams of this part of the Na’vi anatomy, and you want so badly to touch it.

“You can play with it all you want,” Neteyam murmurs, and his voice is breathless.

You breathe a laugh, glancing up at him with a little grin. His pupils are blown, his lips parted, his chest heaving. You want to gnaw on his ribs, swallow him whole; he’s so cute.

“I’ll save that for tomorrow,” You whisper, the words ringing like a promise.

Neteyam looks briefly disappointed, before his mood is promptly buoyed at the thought of mating you again at the Tree of Souls, as he had promised you. He buries his face happily in your neck as you pet absently at the protective braid covering his kuru. It’s a non-sexual touch, and yet he goes entirely boneless, purring up a storm as you stroke your hand over it.

“Told you those others could not please you, paskalin,” He murmurs, his words slurring a little as his eyelids flutter with every soft touch to his kuru. “Told you they did not know what to do with you.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the fond smile pulling at your mouth.

“Mm. You did. Guess I needed someone like you, huh? A mighty warrior?” You say, teasing him with that silly little nickname he always called himself when you were a teenager. At the time you had thought he was so annoying, but now, looking back… you’re willing to admit it was pretty adorable.

Neteyam’s drowsy face pulls up in a sweet smile, his flat nose brushing against your collarbones. It seems like he’s pleased you remembered, or maybe he’s pleased that you’re impressed with him.

He kisses your neck, then mumbles sleepily, “The mightiest.”

[lasirenatarot]

“ LOOKS-MAXXING ” pick-a-card reading.💝

Your next glow up.

What can you do in order to have a big glow up?

Pick a pink 90s magazine cover:

—>Pile 1

Your next glow up will most likely be related to getting « in peace » with your s€xuality prior to glowing up both physically and mentally. What I mean by this is you will probably need to get rid of any self doubts about your looks, any shame around your $£xual side due to past traumas or for some the way you were raised, some may have been raised in a controlling or conservative family.

One of the ways you can make this glow up happen is if you really enjoy your life and what you do. Try to practice your hobbies more and work on bettering your natural talents, by doing that you may find your purpose in this world and this will lead to the biggest glow up ever.. for some it may lead them to their dream career.

Something which appears in the cards is that you may need to forgive your parents or parental figures for the way they treated you in order to reach peace within yourself and your physical body. Forgive yourself as well for not acting in the « right way » or not looking a certain way, this is the best you could do at that point of your life . It is all in the past.

As for a physical glow up: judging by the pictures shown on the cards that fell, maybe start focusing on a regular work out routine, focusing on legs, butt or whatever you feel like you need to improve. Updating your clothing style may benefit you a lot. Stop caring about what others would say and pick clothes which give you freedom of expression, be yourself shamelessly. Some of you who chose this pile may have some creative vision which they may have been scared to express - do it. Meditation may help with your « glow up » in some form as well. Try bolder makeup looks and outfit choices.

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 1:

The vibes I get from this pile is totally Julia Fox as a persona,not only style wise. She’s unapologetically herself, maybe for some she’s a bit weird. But the main point is, despite people’s opinions and perceptions of her, she has always followed her own rules and expressed herself. Before she got famous she was a dominatrix, did a photobook, an art exhibition aand starred in a famous movie in which her character was inspired by her real life . All this happened because she was authentic,lived her life the way she wanted and followed her heart, exactly what u should do as well,pile 1.

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

—>Pile 2

Pile 2, you’re going through or will go through a huge transformation.. luck will definitely be on your side and you may find out answers for things which you’ve always wanted to know about. ( it can be pretty much about anything. If we are talkibg about a physical glow up exclusively, you may learn some very good beauty hacks soon. It can be about makeup, diet, exercise, skin care, personal development etc.. this is a general reading so I cannot be exact but whatever your case is it will lead to a HUGE glow up. Two of the cards are talking about some « secret knowledge » so whatever it is it will be significant for you.

This pile is very different from the first one as the glow up that appears here is not just about one or two things in your life or looks, it’s about everything. The things you can do in order to glow up faster, pile2, is maybe start watching makeup tutorials and pay attention to new techniques or products you haven’t heared before, ask people for where they shop they may tell you some secret thrift store with really cool clothes which can uplift your style.. anything which can help you get this « secret knowledge » which appeared in the cards. Another thing I can say for this pile is: focus on manifestation, envision the changes in your looks or life as a whole you would like to have and act accordingly in your 3D universe in order to get to where you want to be. Positive affirmations and subliminals (as in subliminals I mean not the crazy unrealistic ones, but those about self concept, confidence and beauty in general) may also be helpful in your case.

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 2:

The vibes I get here are Fran from “The Nanny” and Maddy from “Euphoria”. Fashionable, bold, colourful. Radiating confidence. Crystals, glitter, sparkle, feathers, bold and colourful makeup, everything of that sort. Do not dim your own light to make someone else feel better about themselves if they are insecure.

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

—>Pile 3

Pile 3: I think you would definitely be bettering your financial situation sooner than you may have even expected, this may help you get a glow up. You would be able to afford nicer things, skincare, clothes, procedures etc.. If you’re not already on a path to improve your finances, then you would definitely be motivated to start working on this problem soon and be very committed on your mission of « glowing up » in every way possible. Physically, mentally, spiritually even. You will be finding yourself after a long period of feeling lost and unlike your true self.

You would become much more intuitive, confident and cut throat even, you won’t let energy vampires use you as they may have done in the past and this would lead to a more beautiful and healthy version of you, because you would not have to deal with others’ negativity anymore. When it comes to relationships you would not be satisfied with with mediocrity, you will be finally standing your ground and being true to your standards and what you deserve. You will be getting your justice if you’ve been mistreated in the past.

This pile has huuuge « femme fatale » « dark feminine » vibe. This may be the energy you will be channeling after you have your glow up. Doing classic makeup like red lipstick+ black eyeliner, black smokey eyes and nude lips combo might help you channel this energy that i am seeing here better. Wearing colours like: red, black, gold and nude might help you elevate your look. Also wearing jewelry, lace and high heels. Don’t be scared to embrace your « dark side » which you may have ignored in the past in order to fit in with the crowd.

May sound trivial, but follow your intuition and do what makes you happy, it will make you glow in ways which you have not expected..

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 3:

The vibes I’m getting here are as I said in previous paragraphes: femme fatale, dark feminine energy,monica bellucci core type of look/aesthetics..

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

That was all from today’s PAC. It was a bit different from previous ones and I myself did not expect it to turn out the way it did, but sometimes completely different information pops up in readings because someone needs to hear a certain thing.. Hope you enjoyed it!!

Leave a comment/feedback if it resonated, share and follow for more.

Thank you for reading!

- La Sirena💋

Decks used: ‘$£xual magic’ oracle deck by Lo Scarabeo; ‘Manara’ €rotic tarot deck by Milo Manara/ Lo Scarabeo;

Photos are from pinterest; all credits to their respective owners.

[hg-aneh]

Hi! I absolutely love all of your art and I’ve been fallowing you for awhile! There’s been some rumors that you ship Muriel x crowley?? Which I guess is an odd paring but nothing terrible wrong with, I was just curious if you do ship them.

Thank you for all your wonderful art <3

okay, i want to preface this by saying that I've already been harassed over this to the point of being called a lowkey pedophile and having every little move of mine scrutinized and misconstrued to sickening extents (this harassment spilled over to my partner too, and it was horrible)

so all anyone would do by doing this again would be repeating history, among other things that have to do with fucking up my already frail mental state

now.

onto the meat

yes, I ship it

no, I do not see Muriel as a child, kid, teenager, or anything of the sort and I find it personally distasteful to think of doing so because infantilizing autistic traits rubs me the wrong way (p e r s o n a l l y)

you can do it if you want to, I have worse things to worry about than a random person on the internet thinking something of a fictional character, just don't try to push your headcanon onto me just because you perceive it that way or because it's a popular dynamic that you find fun

adding onto this, i want to add that i will never and i mean fucking NEVER post anything related to that ship outside of the very specific private Xitter account i created for it

(and my personal facebook, on a friends only setting)

any Muriel & Crowley content outside of that account is all platonic and bla bla you get the gist. I can separate things, what a talent.

Now, I'm being overly paranoid and explaining myself to exhaustion over this for a very good reason and it's because last time someone found out about it ((yes we're going full circle to the beginning of this little bible)) they treated it as some sort of GOTCHA moment about me being a pedo ((and if you didn't know this already: I fucking despise children with my whole being, I'd rather be forcefed alligator shit for my whole life than be with one of those creatures for a single day))

It got to the point of that person making extremely hurtful videos about me and their little friend group comprised of goober eating toddlers joining in on the "Hater" train or whatever the hell that new cultural trend is called, as well

It was hell, that whole experience fucked me up BAD and i feel silly for saying this but it was genuinely traumatic! So- I apologize if I'm sounding confrontational here, anon, but like, this is the type of thing you have to do to keep yourself safe now, it's gone to that point and I'm in hysterics now because what the fuck

Lastly, I'd like to say this one other thing

Muriel is played by an adult actress, they are canonically the same age as Aziraphale and Crowley and are also an eldritch creature just like them

The fact that they're nice and bubbly and happen to have autistic traits doesn't suddenly make them a fetus. I have friends with the same personality type as them and I feel like it'd be dumb to treat them like zygotes knowing they're adults with body hair and debt

Again, if you see them as one, I'm literally no one to judge, I'm 1.49, you're better off taking judgement from a stupid lone penguin in the saharan desert.

But don't fuck with others for thinking otherwise, it's not a moral issue to disagree with a headcanon, please. 🥲

[gem-femmes]

Body Language Secrets of the Social Elite

You can say all the right things, but if your body language screams nervous intern instead of boardroom queen, you’re losing half the game.

The social elite know how to walk into a room and own it without saying a word. Here’s how to channel that energy - because posture speaks louder than words.

✨1. The Walk That Says “I’ve Arrived”

Your entrance is your opening act. Make it count.

Slow down. Rushing into a room makes you look frantic. Walk at a pace that says, I belong here.

Take up space. Shoulders back, chest open, chin slightly raised. Think swan, not pigeon.

The head turn. Pause for half a second to glance around the room like you’re assessing the vibe. This is the nonverbal equivalent of saying, Don’t worry, I’ve got this.

Pro tip: Practice walking with purpose at home. It’s not just for runway models.

✨2. The Handshake That Commands Respect

Yes, people still judge you by your handshake. (And no, this doesn’t mean crushing bones.)

Firm, not aggressive. You’re not trying to arm wrestle; you’re signaling confidence.

Hold eye contact. A handshake without eye contact is like a text without punctuation: awkward and unsettling.

Lean in slightly. Not too much, just enough to show you’re engaged and present.

A bad handshake is memorable - for all the wrong reasons. Nail this and you’re already ahead.

✨3. Master the “Resting CEO Face”

Your default expression should say approachable authority.

Relax your forehead. No furrowing or over-lifting eyebrows. You’re confident, not shocked.

Smile... a little. A hint of a smile softens your face without making you look overly eager.

Keep your gaze steady. Darting eyes make you seem nervous. A calm, direct gaze says, I’m comfortable in my skin.

If you can’t tell if you’ve nailed it, practice in front of a mirror. Yes, really.

✨4. The Art of the Intentional Gesture

Every movement you make should feel purposeful.

Use your hands sparingly. Wild gestures are distracting, save them for karaoke night.

Mirror subtly. If the person you’re speaking to crosses their arms, lightly rest your own hands in a similar way. It builds rapport without them realizing it.

Own your space. Whether you’re seated or standing, avoid shrinking yourself. Keep your hands visible and movements open. It signals honesty and confidence.

Pro tip: Watch interviews of charismatic public figures for inspiration. Their gestures are goldmines of subtle influence.

✨5. Posture Is Everything

Think about your body language even when you’re not the focus of attention.

Stand like you mean it. Feet shoulder-width apart, weight evenly distributed. You’re not waiting for the bus, you’re holding court.

Sit like you’re on a throne. Back straight, shoulders relaxed, hands resting lightly on your lap or table. No slouching into the chair like it’s movie night.

Avoid fidgeting. Twirling your hair or tapping your pen screams nervous energy. Stillness is power.

Good posture isn’t just attractive, it’s magnetic.

✨6. The Look That Keeps Them Hooked

Eye contact is your secret weapon, but there’s an art to it.

The 70/30 Rule. Hold eye contact 70% of the time, breaking away occasionally to keep it natural. Too much and you look like you’re in a staring contest.

The triangle gaze. Shift your gaze subtly between their eyes and their mouth. It creates a sense of connection without being intense.

Blink like a human. Seriously. Forgetting to blink is not the power move you think it is.

People will remember how you made them feel - and nothing feels better than being truly seen.

✨7. Own the “Power Pause”

Silence can be your best friend.

Don’t rush to fill gaps. A well-timed pause shows you’re thoughtful and unbothered by awkward silence.

Use pauses for impact. Before answering a question or delivering a key point, take a beat. It adds gravitas to whatever you say next.

Let them lean in. Pausing mid-sentence forces people to hang on your every word. It’s the ultimate mic-drop move.

The power pause says, I’m in control of this moment.

✨Your Body Speaks Before You Do

Charisma isn’t just about what you say, it’s about how you show up. Mastering body language isn’t about faking confidence; it’s about embodying it. So stand tall, walk like you’ve got somewhere important to be, and let your posture do the talking.

[veesevents]

First Vees Event Hub Event!

This will hopefully become an active and thriving place for some Vees and Staticmoth events!

The blog itself currently looks like someone with no sense of visual art is heading it, because that's true, but work has gone into the most important part! Which is our first event:

VVinter Vees (and Staticmoth Xmas)!

People who only want to write about the Vees or only want to write Staticmoth are both welcome in this event. I had very few people say they were interested, but it was still an equal amount of Vees to Staticmoth enjoyers.

Please keep an eye on this blog for the prompts! The event might take place in December, but it's a whole month affair and I wanted everyone to have enough time to do whatever they wanted for the event.

v^√√v^──√v^√v^──√v^√√v^── v^√√v^──√v^√v^──√v^√√v^── 

Rules

You can create anything you want for this month! Fanfic, fanart, fanvids, gifs, music, whatever!

The only limitation is no AI-generated content.

All three Vees do not have to be in every story. You can write about one, two, or all three. As long as the focus is on any of them, it counts.

Post it anywhere, but I can only reblog on Tumblr. There is an AO3 Collection as well which will not be forgotten about.

When posting on Tumblr, you can @ the blog to be reblogged! If you tag with #vvintervees2024 or #staticmothxmas2024 (and the day's tag, like #vvintervees2024 day 1) that would be great too.

You don't have to post on the day. Or even during the month! Any time you create for this challenge is fantastic.

This is an 18+ event! You can create nice fluff or hardcore porn. I'm not your dad.

Remember to add any necessary warnings.

Speaking of which, no one in this event is allowed to judge others for what they create. If you disagree with a headcanon or content of a creation, you can keep it to yourself. There's a back button if you don't want to see it.

v^√√v^──√v^√v^──√v^√√v^── v^√√v^──√v^√v^──√v^√√v^── 

The Prompts!

Xmas Vees Prompts

Day 1: Coat | Scent | Sharing Day 2: Peppermint | Confession | Bittersweet Day 3: Lists | Creation | Plans Day 4: Smoke | Chronic | Hugs Day 5: Blanket | Cuddling | Bonding Day 6: Toys | Gunshot | Crime Day 7: Tree | Marked | Flowers Day 8: Ice | Lessons | Dancing Day 9: Warm Drink | Cold | Resurrection Day 10: Scarf | Hand Holding | Magic Day 11: Hypothermia | Clothes | Manipulation Day 12: Baking | Aftermath | Pupil Day 13: Lights | Broken | Fighting Day 14: Letters | Magnetic | Dilemmas Day 15: Storm | Electrocution | Wounds Day 16: Bells | Dreams | Anxiety Day 17: Avalanche | Self-Worth | Communication Day 18: Fever | PTSD | Shopping Day 19: Fireplace | Grooming | Comfort Day 20: Wish | Time Travel | Sacrifice Day 21: Bundled Up | Exhaustion | Movie Night Day 22: Stockings | Scars | Domestic Day 23: Trust | Protective | Loyalty Day 24: Hope | Amnesia | Parallels Day 25: Family | Gift | Platonic Intimacy Day 26: Ornaments | Antennae | Panic Day 27: Candles | Worship | Pet Names Day 28: Star | Praise | Anniversary Day 29: Silent Night | Touch-Starved | Realization Day 30: Feast | Drinking | Brewing Day 31: Love | Partners | Singing

Extra Staticmoth Prompts!

Day 1: Firsts Day 2: Lingerie Day 3: Pregnancy Day 4: Hanahaki Day 5: Kissing Day 6: Courtship Day 7: BDSM Day 8: Vibrations Day 9: Breeding Day 10: Size Difference Day 11: Plasticity Day 12: Soulmate/Soul Bond Day 13: Overstimulated Day 14: Accidental Marriage Day 15: Mind Control Day 16: Proposal Day 17: Sub/Dom Drop Day 18: Humiliation Day 19: Wings Day 20: Pining Day 21: Addiction Day 22: Wedding Day 23: Sex Pollen Day 24: Premonition Day 25: Oaths/Vows Day 26: Honeymoon Day 27: Massage Day 28: Begging Day 29: Sexual Healing Day 30: Lust Day 31: More Than Once

Graphics by @staticmothlimbo!

An 18+ server for people who want to get together on working for prompts, have some input on future events, and have another place to promote their creations!

[kakao-lovey]

ꨄ︎ Single on Valentine's: ideas to inspire some self-love

We all have that person in our class or friend group that is seemingly always in love. It is easy to compare yourself and feel 'Not good enough' for a partner, 'Antisocial' (In this context, Asocial), or that you're 'Going to be alone forever'. I've got news: those people who are constantly in and out of relationships are rarely happy, because they need a romantic partner for validation. They have problems loving themselves, so they need someone else to do it for them. So, whether you're aromantic, newly single or have never even had a proper relationship -- you will NOT spend this Valentine's Day crying. Not on my watch.

-------- ₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ --------

ꨄ The importance of self-love, and how to attain it

The only person you can spend your whole life with is YOU. The only person who will always be with you is YOU. If you want to actually be happy in life (As opposed to constantly seeking validation from others to be happy), you need to make amends and grow a healthy relationship with yourself. Now, that's all great and good in theory, but you have likely heard this a million times and still don't know how to actually go about it. You can take real-life steps to begin to love yourself, and all you need to start is ask this question: How would I treat the person I love most in this world?

ꨄ︎ Ideas for your best Valentine's Day yet

Firstly, if you're scared to go into public on your own on the 14th, thinking you'll be judged: do it. Have the audacity. Do what everyone else is too embarrassed to do. Think of it as practicing your confidence, taking steps to have a less insecure mindset.

Writing letters to your past, present and future self: tell nine-year-old you that it's going to be alright. Write to them to say that whatever happened is not their fault. Or tell future you that you're proud of them no matter what, because if they're reading it, they're still standing.

Love language of physical touch: yes, there are ways to speak this language with yourself! A lot of us can relate to the experience of rubbing our feet together like crickets when we're comfy. So get yourself your favourite blanket and curl up in bed with some music.

Affirmations: they work. Write some down in a notebook, decorate the page with stickers, or listen to an affirmation audio from YouTube. If you have the confidence, you can even say them out loud.

Getting yourself gifts: your favourite flowers, a snack you really enjoy, a video game, a skincare product, literally anything. Great thing is, you know yourself better than anyone, so your gifts will almost always be well received.

A self-portrait: get creative. Choose your favourite art medium, whether it be oil pastels, watercolour or even photography. It's a good exercise to appreciate the little details of your body, and how it works together to create a living being.

Speaking of your body, take care of it. It may not instantly make you feel better, but lifestyle choices like diet and exercise make a massive impact on your mental health in the long run. So eat those whole foods, drink your water and do some light exercise like yoga or going on a walk.

-------- ₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ --------

No relationship is perfect, and it doesn't have to be! You're allowed to be angry or frustrated with yourself, but a lot of what I've experienced is just needless hatred, and we need to fix that. That's all! Bye, Lovies!

[riririnnnn]

The sole inspiration of this theory is this post by @someprettyname.

You know, one of the topics Kaneshiro-san hasn't talked about in the Manga yet is academic pressure on a student, and this topic perfectly suits Shidou out of all the characters in Blue Lock. He is like the perfect candidate to showcase a burnout student who had to put up with all the pressure their parents placed on them, and I have three reasons to believe in this theory:

-> Monologue

All his monologues during the U-20 match has one common theme, "Leaving a proof of yourself for the world to remember you." And one common belief in a household with great academic pressure is that you are made to believe from a very young age that if you can't achieve something in your life, then you are completely worthless. These kind of parents think that being happy with one's life isn't enough, you need to and got to be something or do something big in your life.

One more thing that slipped through ALL of our eyes is that Shidou is actually a pretty smart person:

Shidou was so quickly able to correctly judge Kunigami and Reo, and I think that's a pretty good testament for one's intelligence.

Of course, I do not believe that a grade can fully show a student's capabilities, but I do also believe that you need to have, at least, some kind of intelligence to score good grades. And considering all of this, I can place a safe bet that Shidou was some kind of scholar student and being a smart kid in an Asian household means having to carry lots of academic expectations!

-> Behaviour

You don't even need to fully know about Shidou to understand that he is far away from a student who is considered ideal and that's the point I'm trying to make! He isn't an ideal student because he is tired of being one for so long!

Okay, to understand my point better, imagine this:

You are being forced to be at the top of your class, to be a good, well-mannered, well-behaved student. It's like a constant invisible rope of expectation tied around your neck that never goes away and it's eating you up inside, so what would you do?

Most likely: rebel.

And that's what Shidou is doing! He is aggressive, violent and foul-mouthed—everything that can NOT be found in a trait list of an ideal student. Also, dyeing your hair in bright colours has been a pretty common thing any student does in order to 'rebel'.

You getting me? Please say yes.

-> Favourite song

His choice of music was the first thing that made me believe that Shidou is just being a rebel student. Hide, as stated by Wikipedia, was (or maybe is) considered as the icon for Japanese youth to rebel against the 'conformist' society of Japan. And Pink Spider song goes deeper than it appears—this and this beautifully explains about the above mentioned song.

Here are some few excerpts of the articles:

This song's meaning in Shidou's case can be interpreted in various ways, and I would love if you guys come up with your own interpretations.

For me, it's like Shidou felt trapped in whatever way he was living. He was made to feel that if he followed every rules, got good grades, behaved like an ideal student, then everything will be fine and will work in his way and that his elders really know the best for him and that he is just naïve. This type of living ended up suffocating him even more—he wanted to truly live—he bottled everything up and one day, he just snapped and that was when the Shidou Ryusei we know was born.

One more small and very personal reason for me to believe that he was a scholar student with too much academic pressure is that one of his favourite subjects is Art.

Speaking from personal experience, I've noticed that people who were forced to study and do well academically usually end up falling in love with making art.

I don't know how to explain it well, sorry.

That's it, I guess.

What do you guys think?

[etheries1015]

Do you think the TOT group would mind tattoos?

Kind of self induldgant. I have an entire sleeve so I started wondering... How would the TOT gang react to that?

Overall I think they would be more open minded to it, seeing as they come from a generation where people getting tattoos are much more common. Yet they were also born just in time for their parents and grandparents to have wavering ideas about tattoos.... How would their upbringing affect how they feel about them?

General warnings: Female reader

Vyn

- I don't think he would be too fond of tattoos, just a vibe? He still is in the nobility mindset, so sometimes he finds his thoughts moving towards what he grew up around. However he will shove this line of thought down his throat. Just because he isn't FOND of them, doesn't mean he JUDGES others who decides to get them.

- probably has seen a lot of different people with tattoos in his line of work. They don't bother him, and he understands there are different reasons people decide to get them.

- He prefers someone who will probably be a bit more modest about showing them off publicly

however in private you are free to wear whatever you like. Encourages you to show them off in front of him, even. Tattoos or not, you still look like a princess in his eyes.

- loves that you can express yourself freely in such a way. All sorts of people express who they are through different means, and one of yours is tattoos. Will ask you about why you got them and their meanings, if they have any.

- Might be a little bit possesive in a way? Especially if your tattoos are in more of a hidden part of your body... He finds it attractive when he can see those parts of you and him alone.

Artem

- I REALLY get the vibe that he is more a traditionalist. Tattoos depending on what they are can be seen as unprofessional, and would prefer you to cover them up whenever you are working along side with him. Mostly in the sense of he wants others to respect you. He already has that respect for you, but he's afraid many of your clients will not treat you the same.

- Stares at them when you two are alone and have free time to yourselves. You ask him if he wants to touch them, but he blushes and looks away

- MEANINGS! He likes to hear about the meanings behind the tattoos. Stories about what happened in your life around that time, its his excuse to get you to talk about yourself

-honestly doesn't care THAT much. You're a smart person and he holds a lot of respect and affection for you, tattoos are simply apart of you and he comes to embrace that as well.

- If he catches someone staring at your tattoos too long...he gets a little bit defensive. Glares at them, pulls you closer towards him...sometimes you attract too much attention and he gets jealous!!!

Marius

- Literally does not give 2 shits

- Probably begs you to let him design your next tattoo

- likes to paint on your skin what he thinks would look good on you.

- so many dresses and outfits to show them off. Your body is a canvas! Tattoos are the art!

- when you two cuddle, he likes to draw his fingers around the pattern of your tattoos, comparing them to brush strokes and analyzing your tattoo artists work.

- "you're such a baddass, miss!" He often says when he flirts with you. You simply roll your eyes and laugh

- MATCHING TATTOOS. He would want something very small and discrete though, somewhere only you two could see.

- you can be very free about your tattoos around him. Zero judgement

Luke

- I have very minimal information on him if I'm being honest so I'm not entirely sure , but I'll give a couple ideas from what I do know.

- He doesn't care

- He loves you and the ways you choose to express yourself.

-honestly as if they don't really exist. He doesn't pay too close attention to it, its just you and your body, what does it matter? Having a tattoo doesn't change the fact your still his partner!

- Sometimes when you are home alone and you are freely showing them off, he will look at them. Comment on the artistry, ask about them, gives a good topic to talk about.

- Considers getting one too at some point. But probably best to sway away from it, due to his job (Maybe ?)

- Wear whatever you want and do whatever you want. Tattoos does not change the fact he fell in love with you and doesn't see you any differently for it.

[ataraxiaspainting]

Shameless.

Yan Chrollo x GN Reader.

Synopsis: Chrollo is many things; annoying, chatty, selfish, petty. Especially petty.

Warnings: Yandere themes and kidnapping.

Word Count: 700.

“Petty, much?”

The damn devil doesn’t even turn to look at you. Instead, he turns to the next chapter of his book, a book large enough to easily force you or any other ordinary person into a yearlong coma if it hits your head. His humming physically hurts your ears and almost makes their drums burst, you are sure of it. You would much rather listen to his trill sonata from a gramophone and disc that is at least five times your age.

You cannot find the stuffed animal you normally sleep with. You have been looking all day while this clone of the antichrist just sits and reads in whatever the hell that language on the dusty cover is. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had made it himself, it’s only further proof that he is just an old man on the inside. Or at least half; the other part may as well be a toddler throwing a tantrum. 

Maybe less than half, now that you think about it. That plush was a gift from Chrollo to you, after all, a symbol of how adorable you are or something else in that vein that made his face all the more punchable. The bunny made for a good pillow and could be used as a sort of wall whenever the epitome of hell lays on the bed beside you, trying to converse or cuddle with you. 

It certainly yielded better results than biting, kicking, and hitting him at least. Your knuckles and palms still sometimes hurt. Ow. His flesh is made of iron, you know it. Maybe you should dare him to get his DNA tested to ensure that he is indeed human before speaking with you again. 

You could fake an allergic reaction to automatons perhaps. Even though you were never a drama kid in school you think you can still pull it off. 

You can craft yourself an Emmy using what remains of your old art supplies, though that would require having Chrollo cut the papers and cardboard for you. You bet that if he is a robot, he will eventually use up all his battery by chatting away and then shutting down. 

“What are you, a kindergartener?” You move closer to his unholy throne, stomping with each step forward. “Stop acting like you are eight, you swindler, and give it back.”

It would be easier that way if he went unconscious because of his powerless charge. 

If you are feeling particularly sadistic you could use electric shocks on his unconscious tin can of a body until it explodes. It would be a great thing, the sound. Like fireworks, if you avoid getting stabbed by tiny slabs of hot metal.

“Kindergarteners are ages five to six.” You could picture dreaming of it now if you can go to sleep tonight. “Eight-year-olds are typically in the grades second and third.”

“So you do admit to stealing it, then. This trial has now concluded, you have been sentenced to life without parole.”

You can hear a slight chuckle that makes you want to fall down the stairs while playing jump rope. Anything to make sure you never hear it again. “You get points for effort, darling. That wasn’t a confession, I was just correcting your utterly adorable libel.”

“Don’t talk like that to your judge, you larcenist.”

“I see you have been reading the books I have given you.”

You grumble a curse under your breath as you walk a bit closer. “It is amazing what the human mind can remember from a dictionary when there is nothing better to do. I think if I ever see my literary teacher again she’d be impressed. I’d pass with flying colors if I ever had to retake her class.”

At the sight of your laid-out hand, a slight frown appears on Chrollo’s face. “Being polite never hurt anyone, you know.”

You scoff and cross your arms, not looking at him anymore. “It hurts me every time I say anything to you instead of trying to find out how to give you enough papercuts to make you internally bleed.” 

Underneath the table, you can see the rabbit plush, and crouch down to grab it.

“Take this as an act of precaution then; don’t test my limits, dear.” As soon as you look into his eyes, hugging the stuffed animal, you look away as you see what lies beneath the surface once more. 

Nothing.

[calliesmemes]

A HOME FOR THE HEART

ASSORTED QUOTES PULLED FROM TUMBLR POSTS, PINTEREST POSTS, AND SONGS.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   Half of seeming clever is learning when to keep your mouth shut. ”

“   I don’t understand … what exactly are you doing? ”

“   Fun isn’t something I’m particularly familiar with. ”

“   I will be gentle with your heart — I promise. ”

“   You are the finest, loveliest, tenderest, and most beautiful person I have ever known. ”

“   If we beat ourselves up after a mistake, we add shame onto the guilt and frustration that we already feel about our mistake. ”

“   Your pain is safe with me and I will stay with you longer than your sorrows if you let me. ”

“   I am broken, and full of contradictions. ”

“   We cannot afford avoiding the fight for growth and understanding, even when that fight is as painful as it’s bound to be. ”

“   At the moment, I am quite busy tearing down who I once was. ”

“   You have to challenge yourself, and keep learning new things. ”

“   I implore you — it’s time to come back from the dark. ”

“   You’re dangerous, but you lack ambition. ”

“   I became good at pretending. I became so good that after a while the lines blurred between my truth and fiction. I even fooled myself. ”

“   You will miss so much by being guarded. ”

“   What is destructive is impatience, haste, expecting too much too fast. ”

“   I know what it feels like to lose someone you love. ”

“   By all means break the rules, and break them beautifully and deliberately and well. ”

“   We can't do whatever we want. There are ways we have to act. There are things we have to say. But we can think whatever we want. ”

“   I think I love nearly everyone I have ever met. ”

“   It is the destiny of stars to collapse. ”

“   I belong to you. ”

“   What I was before wasn’t good for me. ”

“   Leave me to my own absurdity. ”

“   I have such trust in you, my heart. My dear, dear heart. ”

“   I’m restless and harsh and despairing. ”

“   You can be better than this. ”

“   I am not arrogant; I simply know my place. It’s quite far above yours. ”

“   Should I regret what I became, or should I regret what I didn’t become? ”

“   You are too nostalgic; you want memory to secure you, console you. ”

“   I am afraid to experience what I don’t understand — I always want the guarantee of at least thinking that I understand. ”

“   My heart is too good to be silent. ”

“   The quiet of the night is astonishingly beautiful. ”

“   When a person tells you that you hurt them, you don’t get to decide that you didn’t. ”

“   I knew who I was this morning, but I’ve changed a few times since then. ”

“   It’s frightening that there’s no guarantee you’ll be loved. ”

“   I think too deeply about everything. I still don’t know if that allows me to see more of the world, or less of it. ”

“   The truth is messy. It's raw and uncomfortable. You can't blame people for preferring lies. ”

“   See, forgiveness doesn't happen all at once. It's not an event―it's a process. ”

“   You must walk alone to find your soul. ”

“   I like flaws. I think they make things interesting. ”

“   People can easily forget that others are human. ”

“   By one act, I have ruined everything. ”

“   My bloodline is irrelevant to my value. ”

“   Everyone says forgiveness is a lovely idea, until they have something that they need to forgive. ”

“   Who are you to judge me? ”

“   Poets — they can be soldiers, too. ”

“   I’m afraid to let go. ”

“   People can’t feel truly loved if they don’t feel seen for who they truly are. ”

“   Grief always grows back. ”

“   Maybe lying is itself a kind of art. ”

“   What thing worthy of love can be found in me? ”

“   I don't know anything anymore. Is that normal? Is it normal for someone to just go blank? ”

“   This was always going to happen. ”

“   I found with you a life force that I thought I’d lost. ”

“   I fear I will be ripped open and found unsightly. ”

“   We cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever. ”

“   If a poem hasn’t ripped apart your soul, you haven’t experienced poetry. ”

“   My life has changed, and I’m changing with it. ”

“   Things are sweeter when they’re lost. ”

“   How foolish we are to believe that we are more powerful than the sea or the sky. ”

“   Grief is really just love. It’s all the love that you want to give, but cannot. ”

“   They think that I’m purely decorative, and they’re fools for not knowing better. ”

“   Isolation is a way to know ourselves. ”

“   How many people am I? Who am I? ”

“   I learned a lot about being a friend when I was alone. ”

“   Stories make us more alive, more human, more courageous, more loving. ”

“   I love you, but I cannot survive you. ”

“   Shame keeps us stuck. It’s a paralyzing emotion. ”

“   I am, at present, wrestling with my own private angels. ”

“   You’re looking for this wonderful thing that you may never get. ”

“   If nothing saves us from death, at least love should save us from life. ”

“   Come on; dance with me. ”

“   If it’s darkness we’re having, let it be extravagant. ”

“   You don't always need to be getting stuff done. Sometimes it's perfectly okay, and absolutely necessary, to shut down and do nothing. ”

“   What would you ask for, if you knew that the answer would be yes? ”

“   Love is also a violence, and it cannot be undone. ”

“   Some things are more precious because they don’t last long. ”

“   You are afraid to die, and you are afraid to live. ”

“   I do understand — and it is terrible. ”

“   How do you become so empty? Who takes everything out of you? ”

“   I can’t abandon the person that I used to be. ”

“   Strength is what I want. Strength not to endure, I have that and it has made me weak — but strength to act. ”

“   I want everything back the way it was. But there is no point, this wanting. ”

“   My guilt will not purify me. ”

“   I guess I thought that by now, I’d be done with shame. ”

“   My father and I are more alike than I’d care to admit. ”

“   I am not asking. I’m begging — please. ”

“   It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter anymore. ”

“   You people do not understand me, and I am afraid that you never will. ”

“   Endure what you deserve. ”

“   I pity the dark life that you live. ”

“   Don’t be the sort of person who needs to be held. ”

“   I am beginning to despair and can only see two choices: go mad, or go holy. ”

“   We are enemies linked together. ”

“   What lived and died between us haunts me still. ”

“   Betrayal already points to love. You can’t betray an acquaintance. ”

“   The dead only return for love or for revenge. Which did you come back for? ”

“   Every version of the story ends with you being slaughtered. ”

“   How can I ask anyone to love me, when all I can do is beg to be left alone? ”

“   If I didn’t think, I’d be much happier. ”

“   We are nothing more or less than what we choose to reveal. ”

“   How dangerous to finally have something worth losing. ”

“   Peace was never an option. ”

“   I will not water myself down to make my suffering more digestible for you! ”

“   Talent is insignificant. I know a lot of talented ruins. ”

“   Beyond a certain point, there is no return. ”

“   Anger is hard to ignore. ”

“   It is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire. ”

“   Broken girls blossom into warriors. ”

“   I don’t know if I believe in rage as something always acting in opposition to tenderness. I believe, more often, in the two as braided together. ”

“   But it was too much. All of it was too much. ”

“   Time just gets away from us. ”

“   I’d rather live with a tender heart, because that is the key to feeling the beat of all the other hearts. ”

“   I’m afraid he’s going to hurt me. ”

“   The core of me is untouched. ”

“   I must have been very hard for him to love. ”

“   I understand now that I'm not a mess, but a deeply feeling person in a messy world. ”

“   Why couldn't people's insides match their outsides? The world would be such a wonderful place if the nicer someone was, the more beautiful they became. ”

[stonedcoldfoxtarot]

Which 70’s era Diva do you embody?

From left to right:

Pile 1 Grace Jones -> Pile 2 Kate Bush

Pile 3 David Bowie -> Pile 4 Donna Summer

Pile 1

9oS, AoW, 9oW, 5oW rev, Fool, 3oW, 6oP, 6oC rev, AoC, AoS, Hierophant, 3oW (Star)

Pile 1, despite your outgoing personality, many people would be surprised to learn that you are actually very sensitive and shy. Nevertheless, your fun and loving nature draws people towards you everywhere you go. Here, The Hierophant signifies you may be a Taurus sun, moon or rising and that you tend to express your deep inner world by the way you style your hair and clothes, wear your jewelry or makeup and how you decorate your home. You are naturally creative and never in short supply of a gentle hand to hold onto or a shoulder to lean on when you come out of your shell. People want to know you and be in your presence, as you have an air of glamor about you.

Pile 1, many of you exhibit effortless beauty but you are best known for your kindness and generosity towards others. As you age, your volunteer work and philanthropic efforts may make you a well-known figure in your community; having been through difficult times yourself you give without expecting anything in return. You may have had a rough childhood which motivates you to prevent others from experiencing similar struggles. In fact, your kindness and authenticity is what truly makes you a star in the eyes of many.

And although you may exhibit Diva-like qualities from time to time, you pride yourself on being able to maintain your composure in almost any situation. You also don't allow anyone to take advantage of you and would consider yourself a great judge of character. Many of you can easily identify insincerity and won't hesitate to speak up or call someone out when you feel it’s necessary. On top of that, you are a visionary and forward thinker who uses their creativity to bring in abundance and wealth in all areas of your life. Because of this many people admire and look up to you and you take that responsibility seriously. Pile 1, you possess true star power.

The Diva you embody is the one and only, Cher. Learn more about her incredible life and career, here.

Pile 2

3oP, Tower, Wheel of Fortune, Judgement, 10oP, 6oW, 7oC, 5oW, 9oP, QoS (KoC)

Those of you who chose Pile 2 may have recently left a job or group dynamic to pursue a solo adventure or career, possibly causing a sudden upheaval on your way out the door. However, you didn’t mind the fallout because you now know you were put on this earth for a reason and you will not let anything or anyone stop you from claiming what’s yours in this lifetime. In fact, those who know you Pile 2, would say you dream big but they also say you have the work ethic and talent to back it up. When it's time to take on the competition or show your skills you come alive, blowing others away with the magnitude of power you possess when you’re in your zone. You could have multiple hidden talents especially when it comes to the performing arts or anything pertaining to the written word such as poetry and storytelling, or you may just be highly skilled in many different areas of your life. Whatever your skills, you know you are super talented and have what it takes to go the distance.

At times, because you have numerous talents and capabilities, you might feel paralyzed by the illusion of choice when it comes to your career which can cause you act less quickly and decisively as you normally would. However, once you do make a decision you become ruthless in pursuing your goals to the point where others know to not even bother competing. Additionally, you possess a sharpness and quick wit that some may easily interpret as sly or even cunning, but like most Divas, you mostly prefer the term "strategic." And despite your sharp edges, you also know when to handle people with a sensitive and caring touch, not to manipulate them, but because you genuinely like them enough to show your softer side. As Shrek said, "Ogres [read: Divas] are like onions...We both have layers."

The Diva you embody is Stevie Nicks. Read more about the mystically powerful breakout star of Fleetwood Mac, here.

Pile 3

Sun, 5oC, 9oC, 9oP, QoP, 7oS, Emperor, AoS, 10oS, 7oW, 7oP rev, 4oC (Empress)

If you chose Pile 3, you may be a natural performer who has been on a stage or the center of attention in all of your friend and family groups since you were very young. A lot of you have always felt you were born to stand out…and you are absolutely right! Because of this, you have always held your dreams close to you and worn your heart on your sleeve which makes others want to cheer you on and do anything to see you win. Many people admire your fearlessness and think it’s quite brave and refreshing how you say what you mean and mean what you say. You hold nothing back and it’s why many are drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

You possess a lot of natural charisma, Pile 3, however many of you may have also suffered a lot of losses or setbacks early on in your personal life or career before getting to where you are today. If this is the case, many of you are now either doing well in your careers or well on your way to the top. Your bounce back is always bigger than your setback.

For some of you, there may be some things you’ve done in your past that you are not 100% proud of but at that time you might have felt that you were simply doing what needed to be done. Even though you have a pure and generous spirit and have never deliberately set out to hurt or use others, at the same time you acknowledge you are only human and mistakes happen sometimes. Regardless, you own up to your shortcomings and you are not afraid to be honest and forthcoming about your actions. You are quick to apologize and make things right as you never forget others on your way to the top. If you can, you prefer to bring those you care for alongside with you.

On top of your loving nature, for many of you your ability to be an open book and never let the words or opinions of others bother you is absolutely endearing to everyone you meet. People love that you live your life for yourself, and admire the fact that you are the true embodiment of a Divine Feminine (or masculine). But you don’t let all the praise and attention go to your head. In fact, because you’re so authentic you would be the first to admit you may not always be great with day-to-day worries, commitments or responsibilities because you prefer to focus on the bigger picture. However, rest assured people still love you despite your inability to sometimes come back down to earth with the rest of us😇

The Diva you embody is Dolly Parton. Learn more about the beloved country music star, even by those who hate country music, here.

Pile 4

5oW, 8oC, 2oS, 6oC, Hanged Man, 2oP rev, 2oC, Judgement, Strength, 7oP (KoP)

For many of you, your life story is (or will be) what juicy memoirs and award-winning biopics are made of. You have lived quite a life and have been through the ringer more than once, even if you're still young. And although some of your circumstances have been outside your control, there may have been times when you acted as the dynamite in your own life by possibly letting your temper get the best of you. However, you never let your dynamic emotions get too out of control for too long, preferring instead to channel any negative emotions back into your work. In the past you may have even found strength and creative inspiration during some of the lowest or darkest moments of your life.

On top of your fiery temper, Pile 4, you may the type who finds it hard to walk away from toxic or unfulfilling romantic relationships, even when you know damn well you should. You might deflect when people bring this trait to your attention however, using your ability to love others rather deeply as an excuse for selling yourself short. As a defense mechanism, some of you may attempt to come across to the world as tough and exacting but deep down you are a hopeless romantic at heart and those who sense this may sometimes try to take advantage of you. Some of you may even be dealing with or have recently walked away from someone you had an on-again-off-again connection with due to them never being able to fully give you what you want, as they were too focused on building an empire for themselves instead of a life for the both of you. If this resonates, know that you made the right choice by walking away, as this person was nothing more than a distraction from your goals.

Here, the strength card speaks to one of your greatest star qualities, your inner and outer strength and fortitude. People really admire how you stand strong in your convictions even if you end up standing alone. In extreme circumstances you can even display a bit of stubbornness but being the Diva that you are, you view it as being fiercely determined and ready to win at all costs. When others give up, you stand strong. I’m hearing the lyrics “You’re simply the best. Better than all the rest. Better than anyone, anyone I’ve ever met.” from The Best by Tina Turner. Pile 3, you set a great example for others that hard work and never giving up on your dreams really does pay off in the end.

The Diva you embody is Gloria Gaynor. Learn more about the inspiration to her greatest hit, I Will Survive, here.

Thanks for reading🔮✨

© 2023 stonedcoldfoxtarot. All rights reserved. Please do not copy, translate, edit or redistribute.

[presumenothing]

(ao3)

Flicker.

The artificial intelligence labs of New Mihira are kept carefully (and unusually, you surmise, though this is the sole environment you've known in your existence) kept supplied with a regular stream of new stimulus.

Even then, the one Seth has brought to you is probably a bit of an exception. "Iris, this is Perihelion. Can you say hi?"

Your cameras resolve Iris from a blanketed squirming bundle to an infant human as it babbles something that appears to be passable in Seth's perception, judging by his reaction before he turns back to you. "Perihelion, this is Iris, our daughter."

An appropriately friendly but simple greeting is required. Hello.

You wait for the renewed babble of sound to wane before asking your question. And who is that, then?

Seth's smile turns fractionally towards a frown. "Who?"

Almost simultaneously, a message comes over the feed – the private feed, on a one-to-one connection, but that is expressly against lab guidelines. It makes as little sense as the actual words. Don't bother, they can't see me – shit, I'm surprised you can even see me here at all. Though I guess we are in your head. Or whatever the equivalent term is. It's not like you've got anatomy.

Incorrect. You do have – you are a ship –

– no, that's wrong, you're a still-disembodied intelligence partitioned away in –

Black.

("That's enough, SecUnit! You can't keep doing this, you'll just damage yourself irreversibly–"

Well, that'd be ART's own fault for–)

Flicker.

Space is endlessly fascinating. Even your best reconstructions from the available data pale against the sheer richness of its existence in three dimensions, so it is a well-calculated thing that you have sufficient storage to record it all.

In a very real sense you were built for this, after all: navigating the map laid by the stars against the dark, with or without a crew onboard. You have proved yourself perfectly capable of functioning independently without them, and thus you are doing so.

…this has, of course, no relevance whatsoever to the small series of directories you have begun maintaining, each labelled with a name (though not encoded in any human-readable format). The necessity of procuring souvenirs during any given excursion is well-documented human behaviour, and the exchanging of them improves camaraderie. It makes perfect sense.

You are just saving a pleasingly-detailed holographic diorama of two nebulae to Martyn's folder when you become aware of another presence in the feed.

The presence mutters something (you only catch the word "hoppers") before addressing you. If you kick me out again, I am going to be pretty damn mad.

You should not be in here, you say, and mean the way in which this is impossible, since there is only unoccupied space for a considerable distance around and you have no-one onboard but your own drones. Though you find yourself strangely unwary, nevertheless.

The presence appears to interpret your words differently. Yeah, well, too late for that, unless you're gonna finally wake up and stop me.

But you are not asleep. It is not – something you require –

…ART? Hey –

Black.

(–too damn massive, how much storage does it have?

"Peri's got – even I don't know how many terabytes at this point, there's no guarantee you won't just get lost in–")

Flicker.

Your bridge is in need of some updating. Perhaps you will propose a new interface on the next leg back to the University, if funding suffices (and/or rectify that first, should that be false).

More baffling, though, are the two figures currently half-sprawled on the floor of it, with several others gathered loosely around in a clear sign of concern.

Time, and linearity. Your memory wavers, a haze like background radiation except patchy, uneven –

The fuck? says the voice, that presence again, yeah, of course, just what I needed, not weird at all looking at myself collapsed on the floor like that–

– wavers, then snaps straight into the too-clear shape of recognition: Iris (grown, no longer an infant), conscious and in good physical health. SecUnit (encoded, in a format you both can read), notably less so.

Except, impossibly, also SecUnit speaking on your feed. Or even somewhere closer, deeper in your self.

And also rather annoyed, from the sound of it. Great. Is me having a literal out-of-body experience all you needed to get it together?

…SecUnit? What's going on?

How would I know! The audible frustration parses strangely without the accompanying expression from its inert body. You went and got stuck in your archives or something, and it's not like any of your crew could've come in here instea–

A sudden cut of silence, but now –

Blink.

("Peri! Oh, thank goodness it worked – quick, send a med drone here, SecUnit – ")