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atyourmerci · 3 months

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♡ Hook, line, and sinker (sub!abby // follower req)

Basketball!abby X nerdy reader

Next chapter

♡ ♡

Summary: Abby is the head captain of your college basketball team, a known player in more ways than one…but you knew her dirty little secret

Warnings: smut, MDNI, porn smidge of plot, sub!abby, top!reader, cunnilingus, fingering if you squint, abby is sub inexperienced, abby is a whiny little sub, author enjoyed thoroughly, no y/n, no physical description of reader

A/N: first req!! So thank you for sending it in. Hopefully this will hold y’all off till I can get out a full fic :// (this was supposed to be a drabble and I got carried away oopsies). Psa wrote this at 2am so it’s probably a MESSSS

♡ ♡

She was dangerous force, intimidating just by the sheer sight of her. She was the kind of girl that people walked on the other side of the road when she was coming, afraid of what would happen if she snapped. Hell even the girls on the court would run from her, and not in the way the game was supposed to happen, they just knew she broke bones.

Abby was brutal, she was a hard hit, she was uneasy to break… she was a fucking whiny sub.

No one knew that of course, none of the girls she tossed around like dolls as she rammed into them emotionlessly, it would ruin the reputation she had built, right?

But you knew.

She was embarrassed you ever saw that side of her, but fuck did she need you. Only you could let her beg and plead to let her cum after denying her over and over again. Only you were allowed to see that pretty pink pussy drenched in slick that ran down her muscled thighs. Only you ever made her cum.

The situation she had you in was less than practical. Abby begrudgingly asked for your help in physics since you were undeniably the smartest in the class…oh if she would’ve know the things you’d teach her.

You weren’t her type, she liked easy girls, the ones that threw themselves at her so she never had to even try, open up to anyone. Some girls had pressed for more, to which she’d move on to the next.

You…you were difficult, hard to read. She was surprised you didn’t use the chance of meeting with her to study to get a good fuck out of her. You were strictly business, even when you couldn’t stop thinking about what she would look like with her legs wrapped around your head.

♡ ♡

That day had started just like the others, abby sprawled out on your tiny dorm bed while you sat neatly across from her, textbooks giving needed separation between the two of you. She always felt the need to dominate every space she took up. If only you could just break her…

“I- I don’t fucking get this. I’m not going to.” Abby says dragging her large hand cross her face. She was usually frustrated when she came to you, but today was the worst you’ve ever seen. She’d leave in a much better place than you had started, but after 3 hours there had been an unusual lack of progress.

“You’re not using your head,” you say growing impatient. You let out a sigh of equal frustration, knowing you’d have to break down the first wall of unspoken territory with her, “what’s wrong with you, you seem off today.”

She returns a scoff back at you, head tilting up to meet your eyes, “I’m fine.”

You shake your head knowingly back at her, “Abby you-“ you begin to protest as she cuts you off defensively, “I said I’m fine. Now are you actually going to teach me? Or would you like to keep interrogating me?”

Your mouth opens in anger. She wants to play this game, let’s play. “Don’t come at me because you were too busy fucking the entire woman’s soccer team last night to be prepared for this midterm.”

“Why the fuck do you care what I do,” she barks back with just the same vengeance.

You laugh at her blatant assumption, “I didn’t say I did.”

“Then why are you breathing down my neck,” she says narrowing her eyes on you, in an almost curious gaze, still laced with anger.

“I just think you should worry about yourself more than making half of Yale’s female population come.”

She returns a breathy laugh, shaking her head turning away from you, “and you don’t think I get off?”

You cross your arms with a testing gaze on the profile of her face, she couldn’t even look at you talking about herself that way. “I know you don’t.”

“And how the hell would you know that.”

“You’re so fucking tense I’m sure you haven’t gotten off in years, can’t even let yourself do it.” You watch as she twists her fingers around themselves nervously, still unable to meet your eyes.

“Y- you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says unsure, barely above a whisper.

Any assumption you had made had been completely checked off now, and you were ready to completely destroy her. Before you could make out a rational thought your hands were at the textbooks in front of you, the separation between you and your weary opponent. You moved everything off onto the desk next to your bed, closing the once necessary gap.

“Come here,” you say as she finally meets your gaze again. “W-what?”

“You heard me, lie down completely,” you demand, and she reluctantly agrees, unsure of her fate.

You make your way to the side of her, brushing your bare knees against her side which causes her to flinch as her fists are closed tightly next to her.

You place a hand on her abdomen first, trying to ignore the chiseled muscle beneath her black tank, “have you been touched here?”

“Yes.”

You then move your hand to the bicep caged around the outline of your legs, she was sure not to make direct contact, “have you been touched here?”

“Yes.”

You move the same hand to her cheek, cupping the sharp line of her jaw, her eyes now drowning in yours, the anger that had held her down now disappearing. “Have you been touched here?”

“Sometimes. N- not often.” Her gaze falters, fluttered down out of your reach at the vulnerability.

Your hand drags down to her neck, this time you let it roam, dragging your fingers across her pulse, “and here?”

“No.”

You click your tongue at her, “shame,” bending down on your knees to scatter slow kisses up the throb in her neck. You feel as she squirms slightly beneath you, “such a sensitive area, really,” you say returning upright, dragging your fingers down to her raised nipple, hardened by your kisses.

“Here?” You lay light circles around the heightened bud as her mouth falls open, quickly closing it with her top teeth on her lip to make sure she doesn’t crack.

She shakes her head rapidly in response, eliciting a giggle from your throat as you move to her other nipple, sure to give it just as much attention.

You let your hand drag down to the seam of her sweats, toying with the exposed skin between her shirt and pants with your fingertips. You watch as her teeth let the grip of her lip go and her head fall back to the ceiling.

The tips of your fingers ease under the sweats over her boxers, inching your way in till your hand cups her mound to which she lets out her first groan of satisfaction “Have you been touched here, Abby?”

“Fuck- no. never.” Her chest rising and falling heavily now, unable to catch her breath.

“You want me to touch you there abby?”

“Please- please touch me there,” her fist that was caged around your bent legs now gripped into your thigh, large hand almost completely engulfing your leg.

“Well since you asked so nicely, take off your pants. Only your pants.” Within seconds she had them down to her ankles, ripping them off and discarding them to the floor. Her hand returned to your thigh, eyes now trained on you.

You moved your hand back to her mound, covered by her black boxers. You began rubbing down to feel how soaked she was, pooling already. You wouldn’t give her much, not yet, only rubbing slow and soft stripes up and down to hear her breathy moans from the stoic woman.

“Does that feel good?” You ask her doe-eyed as she stare’s pathetically up at you, so needy for anything you’d let her have. “Y- yes.”

“Take off your boxers.” With the same enthusiasm she rips them down at your command, returning her gaze back to the ceiling, still embarrassed at her vulnerability but unable to stop herself.

“Open up those legs for me pretty girl,” you say rubbing your palm up her thigh.

“You can’t talk to me like that… I- I’ll come” she breathes out, bucking her hips slightly into the air to no sense of relief.

“I haven’t even touched you yet,” you let out a small giggle at her admission, continuing to rub in her inner thigh.

“Y-ou don’t h-ave to- I’m close enough.”

“Awh pretty baby, all from some talking?”

She continues to buck her hips in hopes that your hand will meet her in the middle. “Please touch me before I finish.”

She had been so good, so pliable, so you honored her wish by placing your fingertips to her raised clit, soaked by her arousal. “Oh fuck!” She yelps, raising her hips into your touch, the hand on your thigh digging crescents into your soft flesh.

“So swollen, just for me?”

“Yes! Yes! Fuck- don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” she begins to plead. You know she won’t last much longer. And you had to taste her.

You whip your legs around her backwards to straddle her, getting a perfect view of her sopping wet cunt, pretty pink lips coated in white slick. You lick a fat stripe down her slit, tongue pointing into her leaking entrance to get a taste of her.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck” she begins to babble as you lap at her hole. She moves her wide hands to grasp at your covered ass in search of stabilizing herself.

You return to her swollen bud, immediately sucking it into your mouth, pulsing it systematically as you hold her wavering thighs open.

“I- im- FUCK-“ she begins to shake under you, whimpers flying out of her as she bucks into your mouth, riding out her early orgasm.

She continues to shake as you try to suck every last bit of her climax out of her, letting her revel in her pleasure. You wish you could talk her through it now, but you’re sure she’ll let you do it over and over again.

As cries of overstimulation flood her voice you let off her clit with a pop, eliciting one last whine from her throat. You return next to the half naked brute, right back to where it started.

She hops of the bed and lazily returns her clothing back to her body.

“No one hears of this. No one.” She says with a pointed look, deep into your eyes.

Ah, the reputation must be upheld. Whiny fucking sub.

Follower req by: @ghgygd

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow

#abby anderson #the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby angst #abby the last of us #abby tlou #sub abby #abby anderson fanfiction #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson x reader #the last of us smut #tlou smut #wlw smut

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witchofhimring · 7 months

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Rhaenyra losing her daughter in childbirth

Warnings: death, childbirth, trauma

So I promised that my next writing of Rhaenyra would be happy. But I suddenly had this plot bunny so we have angst again.

-She still had nightmares of her own mothers death. She had not been there but that did not stop images of a knife cutting up her mother from haunting Rhaenyra. They were less frequent these days, she was done having children and the fear was abated. Her fate would not be in the birthing bed. When Rhaenyra's only daughter excitedly told her mother that she was with child it came roaring back with a vengeance. Now it was no longer herself under that knife but her daughter.

-At first Rhaenyra tried to console herself with the fact that Y/n had the best maesters on hand. Y/n was constantly examined and Rhaenyra was informed of any changes. As Y/n's belly grew those fears became more prominent. She could hardly walk without her mother hovering about. Rhaenyra will have pillows situated on every seat throughout the Red Keep.

-Rhaenyra finds it hard to fully get excited about the baby. Not that she did not want grandchildren. Especially since Y/n had always wanted to be a mother. She tries to be happy for her sake. Rhaenyra will listen to her daughter's excited rambling and feign happiness. But deep inside she is petrified with fear.

-During the nights Rhaenyra's nightmares will continue. Sometimes she wakes up in a sweat and frantically wake. She throws on a robe and walks to her daughters room. Y/n will be there sleeping peacefully, chest rising and falling. For a while Rhaenyra will watch as if expecting something bad to happen. Eventually Rhaenyra will quietly walk back to her room.

-By the seventh month Y/n's mobility is greatly decreased. She has to lean on her mother for support. Rhaenyra tries to remain calm and support her girl. When Y/n falls into anxiety Rhaenyra tries to cheer her daughter up. Because walking is difficult Rhaenyra props up pillows under the Weirwood tree. As Y/n lays there Rhaenyra reads her favourite stories. In the meantime Rhaenyra will summon merchants to bring items from all over Westeros and Essos with various goods. These items are not just for the baby but Y/n as well. Rhaenyra imports goods that helped her through the pregnancies she carried. Balms that sooth her aching muscles are applied to Y/n's skin on a daily basis. Teas that sooth her aching belly are administered by Rhaenyra. While Rhaenyra was never truly taken to sweing she began to make comfortable dresses that her daughter could wear.

-When Y/n goes into confinement Rhaenyra does with her. Of course as Queen Rhaenyra has other responsibilities to attend to so there are times she leaves. And there are some who complain that the Queen spends too much time away from her desk. But right then she did not care, Y/n was her priority. Although confinement is a custom, when Y/n asks for the windows to be opened Rhaenyra does so. She does not care what the ladies say. She dreads her daughter feeling miserable leading up to the labor. They try to keep their mind off what will take place in a few weeks time. Y/n speaks of wanting to see Dragonstone again when she recovers and Rhaenyra promises her so.

-Y/n's labor start of the day the maesters said it would. Rhaenyra is woken by her daughter shaking her. Y/n is quaking and hunched over. Blood and other bodily fluids are staining her nightgown. In a moment the room is busy with maesters, midwives and ladies. Word goes around that the princess in in labor and that night people go to the sept to pray. Rhaenyra holds her daughters hands as every pained breath escapes Y/n quivering mouth. They give her herbs for the pain but it does not stop the blood. A days passes, then two, and the horrid realization that her fears might come true horrifies Rhaenyra.

-She tells the maesters that if they cut Y/n open she will feed them to Syrax. Eventually, as Y/n fades in and out of consciousness, Rhaenyra gives them her consent to try something. Since the baby will not come out on its own they will have to turn it. The idea makes Rhaenyra physically ill and she has to puke pile into a bowl. She goes to her daughter and whispered "I love you" before her legs are forced apart and the maesters hands go in. She begs her daughter to just hold on a little longer. Y/n's hand seizes hers with abnormal strength and Rhaenyra prays. Let her daughter live.

-The baby arrives into the world wailing. Y/n falls onto the bedding and Rhaenyra lets out a cry of relief. The baby, much stronger than her brother Baelon had been, kicks its strong legs and flails its fists. She turns to her daughter and the smile dies. Y/n's skin has a sickly hue to it. Her eyes seem to fade and the grip slackens. "Y/n!" She screams out.

-They lead the screaming Queen out. Daemon is summoned to pick his wife up and he carries her to their shared room. She is screaming and crying, unaware that she is not even beside her daughter anymore. They force something warm and bitter down her throat and Rhaenyra unwillingly floats into unconsciousness.

-She wakes two days later. Beside her are the children, her son Jaecerys holding her hand. Lucerys is holding her newest grandchild with Jeoffrey peering down at her. The youngest two are in their fathers arms. Rhaena and Baela stand by the fireplace shielding themselves from the rest of the family in their distress. Daemon says nothing and simply takes his wive's hand. "I'm sorry." Is all he can say.

- She prepares your body alone. Rhaenyra can not bear the thought of unfamiliar Silent Sisters touching you, even dead. She quietly sings old songs her own mother once sang. Rhaenyra prays that you were up with Aemma. Oh if only the two of you could have met. She does not wrap you up, she always knew you hated enclosed spaces. You are dressed in red and black with a diadem placed on the h/c locks. Once she had made it for you to pass down. Now the thought of anyone having it but you was more than she could bear. Rhaenyra is riding behind your carriage, pale and weeping. This is her mothers death all over again. When they reach Rhaenys's Hill Rhaenyra can not bring herself to light the pyre. It is her eldest son who does the honor, Vermax's flames engulfing Y/n's body. Rhaenyra does not remember the rest of the day.

-One night, weeks later, Y/n visits her mother in dreams. She was with her grandmother in and endless sea of flowers. They were both laughing as the sun danced off their skin. Rhaenyra had never thought much about the afterlife. But as she looked upon her daughter and mother she prayed they were happy. A bright sun hailed the day. Rhaenyra lay in bed for a few moments as some deep emotion stirred within her. The feeling was like a new emotion awakening within her. It was not pain yet it stabbed within her like a knife. With an aching chest Rhaenyra threw a robe over her body. It was early enough that only the servants were awake. The babies room was silent except for small rustling noises. Peaking into the crib her grandchild stared up at her with wide eyes. Rhaenyra's heart nearly stopped as she realized this baby had Y/n's eyes. With steady hands Rhaenyra picked up the baby. It stirred and made cooing noises before Rhaenyra held the baby to her chest. Warmth spread throughout her body as this last piece of her daughter reached out for Rhaenyra. She walked over to a chair and picked up a book. It was Y/n's favourite, the one Rhaenyra read to her. Rhaenyra cradled her grandchild close and read.

#rhaenyra targaryen #house of the dragon imagine #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra x daemon #rhaenyra x harwin #rhaenyra x criston #laenor velaryon #daemon targaryen #criston cole #harwin strong #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader

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teyums · 1 year

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Contagious ✽ Lo’ak Sully

wc: 8.4k

pairing: lo’ak x fem! na’vi reader (characters are aged up for plot purposes)

contains: angst, slight enemies to lovers trope, some language, and fluff of course <3

warnings: none, slight hinting of intimate feelings if you squint

a/n: Requested? No. THIS IS THE CUTEST THING I’VE EVER WRITTEN. also testing out different spacing with my works so lmk if you guys like this spacing better!

“Absolutely not.”

“Hard pass.”

You both spoke in unison, immediately denying the ridiculous suggestion that came from the mouths of your mothers before you could even think about it. There was no way on Pandora you were going to spend more than five minutes, let alone three whole days alone with this man in the woods.

You refused, you wouldn’t stand for this. Your mother sighed, the shortness of her breath indicating that the decision wasn’t up for debate. “You should be open to the idea, [Y/n]. Lo’ak is a fine warrior and a skilled hunter. I think he could teach you a lot. So the two of you need to set aside your differences and work it out, just for a few days.” She said, Neytiri’s voice chiming in behind her in agreement.

You were never very interested in hunting. You harbored the skill, of course, but you much preferred weaving or crafting over shooting unsuspecting animals with poisonous arrows.

Lo’ak huffed out a humorless laugh, gesturing over to you with his hand while he addressed his mother. “Why me, Ma? Why can’t one of the others help her? Even Tuk knows how to shoot an arrow!”

“Enough, Lo’ak. It is decided.” Neytiri said, and the look in her eyes confirmed that she was not budging.

He kissed his teeth, dragging a hand down his face and covering his mouth before he could say something that would get him in trouble. As if that was the only way he could control his tongue. You glanced over at him, furrowing your brows while he only stared straight ahead at the wall of the hut— now completely detached from the conversation with a locked jaw.

You looked to your mom as a silent plea, only to receive a pointing stare back that caused you to quietly hiss in distaste. You were the first to exit the elders’ tent upon dismissal, the lanky Sully boy unwillingly trailing behind you.

Once you were far enough to make sure you were out of earshot, you turned around to face him. Trying to lighten the mood. “I guess three days isn’t so bad, right? At least we already know each other. It’s not like I’m a stranger or anything.”

“If I had a choice between three days with you, or getting yelled at by my mom, I think we both know I would’ve chosen the latter.” He grumbled, pushing past you and bumping into your shoulder in the process.

You caught your footing before you could stumble back, spinning on your heels to face him again. “Jeez, Lo’ak! Do you have to be such an asshole all the time?”

He ignored you, like usual, and continued along the path to wherever he was headed. You felt your eye twitch with a vengeance, pursing your lips and taking a sharp breath inwards to quiet the urge you had to send the wood of your bow flying into the back of his head.

It hadn’t always been like this between you two, and honestly you couldn’t understand where it all went wrong. You and Lo’ak grew up as pretty good friends, considering your mothers were the best of them. They expected you and Lo’ak to grow up and be each other’s mates. Often pairing the both of you together to complete simple tasks around the village that could easily use one person, which only helped in solidifying the strength of your bond. And honestly, you were never opposed to the idea of it, and even found yourself starting to like him.

You often explored the forest together, even when you were young. Allowing him to show you all his secret spots and hiding places he ran to when the heat at home was too much for him to handle. In actuality, you were his escape.

“Come on, [Y/n]! Try to keep up!” A young Lo’ak yelled from a branch above, laughing and dodging your attempt to grab at his tail.

“Wait for me, Lo’ak! You’re too fast!” You groaned, jumping up to grab a branch with your hands and pulling yourself up the rest of the way. You watched him hop onto a cliff and you followed, hands resting on your knees while you tried to catch your breath.

“Catch me if you can, slowpoke!” The young sully teased, darting through the vast foliage and hopping over fallen trunks.

You weren’t one to back down from a challenge, especially not from Lo’ak. Whenever the two of you would play games with each other and he’d win, he would hold it against you for weeks and rub it in your face. You lifted your head, seeing his tail be the last of him to disappear into the trees “You’re on, Sully!” You took one last deep breath, pushing off your feet and starting to run in the same direction he had.

You memorized his movements so you could go faster, ducking where he had and shoving giant leaves from your view. However, you miscalculated a step, the front of your foot hooking under a mossy log and sending you tumbling forward into the dirt below you.

Hearing your footsteps closing in, Lo’ak picked up speed so you wouldn’t be able to catch him. But as he readied himself to climb another tree, he heard a thud. He paused, turning around to look behind him and brows pinching when he didn’t seen you. “[Y/n]?” He called out, eyes widening when he heard a series of whines sound out in response instead of your usual cheery voice. “Oh shoot,” He mumbled, sprinting back to where he had last left you.

“Ow ow ow!” You cried profusely, pushing yourself off the ground so you could sit up. You winced and pulled your bruised knee to your chest, lip trembling at the sight of blood appearing from a small gash in your skin.

“Oh no,” Lo’ak’s eyes widened at the sight of you covered in dirt, dropping down next to you with a worried look on his face. “Are you okay? What happened?” His voice was soft, both of his hands cautiously holding your leg while he studied how deep the wound was.

“I tripped over a log and fell…” You whined, using the back of your hand to wipe your tears.

He instantly looked up when he heard you sniffle. “No no no, please don’t cry…” His face was tense as he appeared to be in deep thought. He exhaled in preparation, leaning forward and placing a chaste kiss to the side of your knee, away from your broken skin. “There,” He backed up, cheeks flushing to match yours. “That’s what my mommy does when I get hurt, and it usually helps me feel better… Did it work?”

A small smile spread on your lips and your tears dried up, face rosy when you nodded your head. “Y-yeah. I guess it does feel a little better. Thanks, Lo’ak.”

He flashed a toothy grin, excited that you were feeling better and rising to his feet. A small, four-fingered hand extended out to help you up, and you slid your tiny palm into his. Brushing the dirt off your legs with the other. “We don’t have to play anymore if you don’t wanna-” He said, the rest of his sentence cut off when you shoved past him, into his shoulder and darted along the path.

“Catch me if you can, penis face!” You giggled, squealing when he yelled your name and began to chase after you.

Life as best friends with Lo’ak was never boring. In fact he was the one who introduced you to having fun in the first place. You knew him to be snarky, painfully sarcastic. But never cold.

There was a sweet side to him that he would let you take a glance at here and there, behind all the name calling. Could he be aggravating at times, and maybe a little mean with the teasing? Yes, but never cold. So when he suddenly stopped treating you like a friend one day and instead no more than a stranger— saying you were confused would be putting it lightly. All you could chalk it down to was puberty. Maybe the new influx of hormones had made him… less social?

You were hurt, you couldn’t deny it. There was something different about him, something he wasn’t letting you in on, like a switch you didn’t know existed had flipped in his mind. Coincidentally as soon as you hit the age where men began to court you, he fell off the face of the planet entirely.

Losing him pained you deeply, he had always been there to help you with any issues you had. Eager to give you advice on any situation you needed another perspective on, or just cheer you up with his rambunctious attitude. There were so many times you wanted to stop and ask him what happened, if you had done something wrong. But you knew he’d look straight through you like he always did nowadays.

The walk home was silent. You were definitely not looking forward to this three day trip you had no choice but to partake in. You wouldn’t have minded if your mom chose one of the other warriors, because being around Lo’ak only became increasingly more awkward as time went on.

For someone who previously had so much to talk to you about in the past, he was awfully closed off in your presence. You shook yourself out of your daydreaming and began searching through your tent. Packing just a few things. Some extra clothes, a quiver of arrows, and spare string for your bow just in case. You grabbed the strap and slung it over your shoulder, next lifting a woven pouch over your head and crossing it over your body.

Pushing past the flaps that served as an entrance to your home. You felt the daytime breeze hit your face and a wave of peace washed over you. Until you turned your head to the side to see a particular male leaned against the outside wall of your hut, arms crossed over his chest.

“Took you long enough.”

“Oh my-” You jumped, startled by his voice and bringing a hand up to clutch your chest to make sure your heart hadn’t jumped through your ribcage. “Jesus, Lo’ak! Were you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Nah,” He snorted at your reaction, pushing himself off and walking ahead without you. “I think you’re just a wuss.” You swore you heard the smirk oozing out of his tone. Rolling your eyes and starting off after him, having to do a slight jog to catch up as his strides were much longer than yours due to the length of his legs.

One condition to the three day trip included not being able to use your Ikrans. Your mothers insisted you hiked on foot, saying it would be a good refresher of the land. You walked next to him in silence, keeping your stare straight ahead and grumbling to yourself when the strap of your quiver began to slip off your shoulder for the third time.

He turned to look at you curiously, eyes falling to the case of arrows you were carrying. “Gimme that,” Before you could answer his hand was over your shoulders, grasping the strap in his hands and pulling it off your arm. He tilted his head to the side to swish his braids out of the way, throwing your arrows over his shoulder that was already carrying his own.

You stared at him with a confused expression, having to remind yourself to keep your feet moving. “I was perfectly fine carrying that on my own, you know.”

“Was just being nice.” He sighed, not even bothering to meet your gaze while he spoke.

“Yeah, that’s rich coming from you.” You muttered under your breath with folded arms, not missing the way his ear twitched, jaw tensing at your words. You thought you said it quiet enough, but by the look on his face, he definitely heard you. You figured you’d keep the banter to a minimum for the rest of the way to your campsite.

After about thirty minutes you arrived at a secluded part of the forest where not many animals came through. Fauna dressed with various shades of greens and browns that encased the area, the forest floor mossy and soft against the soles of your feet.

You took a deep breath and looked around, inhaling the air that seemed much fresher around you from all the vegetation. Lo’ak had already gotten busy setting up, crouching down to set your equipment against the base of a tree trunk. You plopped down into a sitting position and sighed in relief. He walked so fast that you damn near had to sprint the entire way here.

Two bows in hand, he silently walked past where you were sitting and started on his way back into the trees. Invested in the colorful wildflowers surrounding your feet, you hadn’t noticed he was no longer in front of you until you looked up to see your bows gone, as well as him. “Lo’ak?” You whipped your head around with a hint of fear in your voice, trying to figure out which direction he had went.

“Come on, hurry up!” He yelled out, your ears perking up once you realized he hadn’t travelled far. You sighed and forced yourself to stand, quickly skipping through the forest to catch up with him.

His behavior was so odd, it was only making you more agitated by the second. You angrily stared at his back, having to look away shortly after once your mind unexpectedly jumped from how annoying he was to how his muscles flexed when he walked.

It really had been long since the two of you were alone, because you hadn’t remembered his shoulders being this broad, or his legs this toned. Training with Neteyam and his father was clearly paying off.

You pointed your chin up when he turned around to hand you your bow, rolling your lips into themselves and trying not to blush at the fact that he almost caught you staring.

“Here,” He pushed it in your direction, not letting go until your hand wrapped around the curve of the wood and took it from his grasp.

You followed closely behind him, looking up to see lemurs swinging from branch to branch while the wild life croaked and screeched around you. He suddenly slowed in pace, causing you to almost stumble into his back while his knees bent slightly, taking long strides while keeping his eyes pinned on the ground below him. His head low.

You peered around curiously, trying to get a look at his face. “What are you doing?”

“Shh, tracking.” He muttered.

You paused. “Why?”

“You want to eat, don’t you?” He responded, irritated.

“I was just asking a question, no need to get your panties in a bunch.” Grumbling, you ducked your head under a low-hanging branch after he did.

“I don’t wear panties.” He huffed, swiftly equipping an arrow to the string of his bow and preparing to pull it back. He must have spotted something you hadn’t.

“Could’ve fooled me, cause for the last four months you’ve kinda been acting like a bitch-“ Your eyes darted in the direction where leaves rustled, sighing when you saw the small hexapede he was planning on piercing with an arrow skit past the two of you. Disappearing into the trees due of the volume of your voice.

“God, ugh!” He dropped his bow to his side, head snapping around to look at you with the most agitated expression you’ve ever seen him wear. “Do you ever stop talking? Like, genuinely asking here. If you had just shut up with the questions we wouldn’t have lost our dinner.”

You swallowed the spit pooling in your mouth and bit the inside of your cheek, only looking down at your feet and mumbling a nearly non-existent ‘sorry’. Had you stayed looking up, you wouldn’t have missed the look of regret that flashed across his face. You felt your heart pinch at the venom in his tone and decided against speaking up again.

Eclipse had fallen over the sky about an hour later, the both of you trudging to the campsite with a couple fish skewered onto your arrows. The journey back was excruciatingly silent. You hadn’t dared to make a peep after seeing how much you pissed him off earlier. He attempted to make some side comments during the hike to spark up a conversation, but you were so tuned out from the present situation that his words fell on deaf ears.

You now sat with your back against the bark of a burly tree, keeping yourself busy by continuing to weave a top you had previously been working on back at home. You were glad you thought to bring it with you, not knowing you would need something to occupy you from looking up and catching the pair of eyes that were boring holes into your forehead like lasers.

He sighed as he watched you, guilt burning in the pit of his stomach as if he were in hell. You forgot that he knew you, forgot that he knew you would distract yourself with random tasks just to avoid speaking on something that bothered you. He hadn’t meant to snap like that, and honestly you weren’t even the reason for his irritability. He just took it out on you on accident.

“You hungry?” He held up a freshly roasted fish, beckoning it towards you and assuming you could see him even though your gaze was downcast into your work.

“Nope.” You muttered.

“Why?”

“Big lunch.” Your movements became slightly jagged at his questioning.

“That’s bullshit. You never eat lunch.” He scoffed.

You threw the top you were working on down in front of you and huffed in frustration. Why was he acting like he still knew you as if this entire time it hadn’t been his mission to become strangers again?

“You wanna know what’s bullshit, Lo’ak? Us being friends since childhood, spending almost everyday together and then suddenly you stop talking to me at all. You treat me like a complete stranger and I don’t even understand why.” His eyes left yours and settled on the fish in front of him, as if this was suddenly his first time seeing one. He was quiet for a beat, making you huff out an aggravated breath and throw your hands up at the futile attempt to get him to speak.

“I’m sorry.” He finally mumbled.

You blinked, waiting for him to continue, eyebrows raising in disbelief when he didn’t. “That’s it? You’ve been treating me like I’m the bane of your existence for months now and all you can say is sorry? You missed my Uniltaron when you promised you’d be there for me, and now all you can say is sorry?” You laughed bitterly, standing up before he could form an answer to your rhetorical question. Eyes pinning him in place as you watched his body shift to stand. “Don’t follow me.” You held a hand up to stop him, stalking away before you could blow a fuse. You weren’t planning to go far, you just needed to be away from him for a bit.

Lo’ak sat in that same spot the entire time you were gone, his appetite dissipating while he stared down at his hands in shame. He didn’t know what he expected, but all he knew was he felt bad for hurting your feelings to this point. It was one of the things he hated about himself the most, his irrational decisions that never considered the other party’s feelings.

Honestly, he thought so little of himself that he assumed you wouldn’t be bothered by his absence. But now that he was rehashing the details over in his mind he felt like an idiot. Of course it bothered you, the two of you were attached at the hip and best friends who did almost everything together, until he let the discouraging words of others get into his head.

His previously slumped body sat up as he saw you re-emerge from the trees, guilt rushing over him once more because your avoidant eyes still refused to meet his.

He looked up at the moon, realizing it was getting late and starting to put the fire out. You lowered yourself to the mossy grass, sliding down until the soft blades tickled your back. You discreetly watched Lo’ak do the same, along with putting a few feet of space between the two of you as he could nearly feel the anger radiating off your body.

With the fire now put out, the draft that travelled through the air made small goosebumps prick at your skin. And with shut eyes you curled your body into itself to capture as much heat as you could. Lo’ak laid next to you with his back flat against the grass, hands resting on his middle and gaze glued to the twinkling stars above. He allowed his eyes to come to a close but just a few moments after they did, they snapped back open and looked in your direction at the sound of you shuffling around.

“You’re cold.” He stated. The words coming out as an observation and not a question.

“I am not.” How fast you answered made it easy for him to know you weren’t telling the truth.

“You’re a terrible liar, and I can hear your teeth chattering from over here.” He sighed, propping himself up on an elbow and talking to your back. “You know you catch colds easily, [Y/n]. So c’mere.”

Your eyes opened at his suggestion and your body tensed, but not from the brisk air blowing against your skin. “And what’s that gonna do?” Cringing at how pathetic your voice sounded. You had planned on coming off assertive and uninterested.

“Warm you up?” He looked around as if the answer were obvious, and it was. But for some reason you felt… shy. You and him were once friends, so close to the point where hugging or holding hands had became normal. You’d even sat in his lap a few times. So now that you were sure the two of you no longer favored each other, why would this feel any different?

“Come on, my mom will skin me if I bring you home sick. It’s not a big deal.” He tacked that on for good measure, clearing his throat to push down the weird fuzzy feeling that was traveling up the column of his neck when you slowly sat up. Only half convinced at his reasoning, you reluctantly scooted over towards him, daring not make eye contact.

His lips almost curling up into his usual sideways smile was a sight you tried your best to ignore, witnessing it from the corner of your eye as you moved. Having the intense urge to smack it off his face but gently laying your body down next to his in order to control yourself. He cautiously wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer and inviting your head to lay on his chest.

You inhaled through your nose, unknowingly holding your breath when his warm hand came in contact with your skin, while he respectfully rested it just below your shoulders. You kept your arms tucked into yourself, legs laid out straight and your cheek pressed against the azure barrier between you and his beating heart.

You instinctively snuggled in closer, silently grateful for the comforting warmth radiating off his body and he could feel it when you relaxed in his hold, just like you used to. You had forgotten what it felt like to be this close to him. Soaking in the lullaby of his soft breaths and you hated how much you missed it.

The ear pressed to his chest picked up on a slight increase in his heart rate, and you threw a remark out just to keep the energy from shifting into weird grounds. “This doesn’t change anything, by the way. I’m still mad at you. I just hate being sick.”

He stared down at your body in close proximity to his, nose nuzzled into your soft hair as discreetly as possible while he mentally kicked himself for being dumb enough to ruin something like this for himself. Giving you the cold shoulder in the past just to quell his own feelings had been one of his stupidest decisions yet. “Yeah, I know.” He swallowed, his hand hesitantly reaching to stroke up and down your arm. “I am sorry though, [Y/n]. Really.” His apology was layered.

You bit your lip, feeling the urge to respond but not having it in you to set aside your pride. There was no way he was getting back in this easily, not after he had you questioning everything you knew due to his closed off behavior. “Just go to sleep, Lo’ak.” You sighed. He agreed by closing his eyes.

Fleeting sounds of chirping birds and leaves ruffling from the lemurs above your head rustled you from your slumber, eyelids slowly peeling apart to see the world sideways. You rubbed your eyes to clear your vision. You were on your other side now, and Lo’ak wasn’t in front of you.

You went to stretch, your limbs feeling a bit cramped from sleeping on the hard forest floor for hours on end. Regardless of your slightly achy joints and the lack of your hammock netting beneath you, this was surprisingly the best night’s sleep you’d had in a while. Weird.

Extending your legs outwards, you went to do the same for your back when you felt a pair of tightly wrapped arms around your middle halt your efforts. Your body stilled when you realized the hard surface against your upper back belonged to the man you were trying to make yourself despise.

Sometime during the brisk night you turned over onto your other side, and Lo’ak had pulled your slender body back into his and tucked himself into you. He was holding you as if this had been what he wanted to do for years, his light snoring indicating that he felt comfortable enough to sleep so deeply.

And as soon as you came to the revelation, all of your senses began to kick back in at an overwhelming rate. The feeling of his head snuggled into the small of your neck. His soft, parted lips just grazing the surface of your skin. His light breaths leaving temporary traces of heat on your collarbone made your ears flick with a feeling you didn’t want to put a name to. The backside of your body fit into his like a puzzle piece, flush with no room between as if he were scared you’d disappear in the middle of the night.

You felt your heart quicken in pace, cheeks flushing at how you had gone from not speaking, to being cuddled up with one another in just a day. Though the two of you interacted like you couldn’t stand each other, your bodies naturally knew you craved affection only the other could provide and they betrayed the front you tried to put on.

Would the two of you had fallen into each other so intimately, so accepting in the comfort of an embrace during the night, if you truly weren’t supposed to be like this?

You were too stubborn to care, and maybe a bit in denial, too. All you knew was that you needed it to stop because your brain was turning to mush the longer each rise of his chest moved your body in sync.

“Lo’ak!” You smacked the back of his hand and hissed his name, the action pulling him out of his deep sleep.

“Huh?” He grumbled, sharply inhaling with sudden consciousness and opening his eyes.

“Move. Your arms.” You spoke through gritted teeth, eyes flicking down to the limbs that had you caged.

He raised a brow, not understanding what you were talking about until he peered over your shoulder. “Oh shit,“ He instantly retracted his arms, allowing you to scramble away from him while he sat up and nervously watched you readjust your garments. He hadn’t meant to make you uncomfortable in the slightest, he didn’t even realize he was holding you in such a way until you woke him up— and right about now you looked like you wanted nothing to do with him.

Little did he know.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I- I didn’t mean to…” He trailed off, not being able to meet your gaze and hoping you’d finish his thought for him, so he wouldn’t have to say it aloud.

You were too flustered to even think about eye contact, shaking your head and interjecting before he could continue speaking. “It’s fine. Let’s just, pretend it didn’t happen.” You mumbled, not missing the way he looked at you as if he wanted to disagree, his mouth opening just to close a second later.

All he did was nod, clearing his throat and rising to his feet while you tried to busy yourself by brushing imaginary dirt off your body.

You tried your best to make the rest of the day as normal as possible, to no avail, of course.

For some strange reason, you couldn’t seem to keep your eyes off him. After a while of him ignoring you, it had became pretty easy to do the same to him. Before this morning, at least.

You cursed your sharp, all seeing eyes. The way they caught every muscle that tensed in his strong legs when he took a step forward, or how his defined shoulders pulled apart to send an arrow plunging through the air.

Every time he turned towards you to speak, you had to force yourself to look away. The fact that you couldn’t seem to control the thoughts invading your mind without your permission was starting to piss you off. And the way his chiseled abs cut directly into a ridiculously evident v-line above the hem of his loincloth, with the rest of it hidden and succeeding in peaking your interest, was not helping you in the slightest.

What was wrong with you? How was it that you felt even more drawn to him now that he was more detached than ever? He seemed to notice your discomfort, eyes narrowing at your focused expression cast upon a boring tree trunk when you didn’t answer to your name.

“Huh?” You snapped your eyes back in his direction when he called your name again, gulping at his oddly knowing expression.

“You seem awfully distracted. Are you alright?” He said.

“Yeah, like you’d care.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, eager to keep up your tough and uninterested front.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He folded his toned arms in front of him and you kept your eyes locked on the scowl he wore. It was a double edged sword, either you looked away which would solidify his suspicion that something was in fact going on with you, or you continued to make eye contact with the searing orbs that were making your heartbeat bang against your eardrums. Somehow the second option seemed like the better one.

“It means exactly what you think it means. We stopped being friends a while ago, Lo’ak. That was what you wanted, and you made it very obvious.” You grabbed an arrow from your quiver and pulled it against the string of your bow, extending your arm out and aiming for the makeshift target he had carved into the tree bark with his knife a little ways in front of you.

His brows knit together, features screwing up as if you had just made some outlandish claim. “What do you mean? We never stopped being friends. I still care about you, [Y/n].”

Your heart jumped at the unexpected words that left his mouth, fingers slipping when you released the arrow. It missed the target by a long shot, landing outside and below the circle.

You bit the inside of your cheek, shaking your head and the feeling that was creeping up your throat, out and away. “Well you sure as hell don’t act like it. And I’m pretty sure friends are supposed to speak to each other.” You mumbled, digging your toes into the dirt, the soil moist along your sole while you prepped another arrow.

“I-“ He sighed, mind searching for the right words. “I promise it wasn’t personal. There was just a lot going on, and I got busy.” He moved to stand close behind you, gently raising your elbow upwards with the tips of his fingers. He pressed a hand to your stomach and pushed it against your core, a silent instruction to strengthen your stance.

Oh right. He was supposed to be coaching you on your form. So why did it feel like more than that?

You sucked a breath in through your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut to try and put out the fire his hand ignited. Your core tightened, much to his approval. But not for the reason he assumed. You cleared your throat and stared daggers into the target in front of you, the shakiness of your voice paired with your hands giving away just how flustered he was making you.

“Oh sure. Busy trying to keep me out of your life, right?” You spat, releasing your grasp and hitting millimeters from the bullseye.

You felt the heat of his firm chest against the skin of your back, a small gasp leaving your lips when his lips brushed against the tip of your ear as he leaned down. “Busy trying to keep my mind off you.” He responded, voice so low you could’ve missed it had you not been paying attention.

“What?” You turned around to face him, your faces much closer than you expected and you quickly took a step back.

“I said,” He took one closer. “I was busy trying to keep my mind, off you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Stop playing games with me, Lo’ak. You’ve confused me enough already.” This morning made sure of that.

He reached for your hands, the speed in which you dropped your bow to the ground almost comical and you allowed him to slip his fingers into your palms. “I would never say something like that if I didn’t mean it, [Y/n]. There wasn’t a single moment I wasn’t thinking about you. There never has been, and there never will be. No matter how hard I try, no matter how much space I put between us, I just can’t shake you.” He said, the pads of his thumbs smoothing along the backs of your hands.

You blinked at him in disbelief, eyes widened as you stared at him in shock. You always thought there had been mutual feelings there. The way he acted with you in the past versus the other girls in the village confirmed that. Which was why the sudden rejection of your company and his absence in your life had pained you so much. You not only lost your bestfriend, but the man you hadn’t gotten the chance to love.

“I know, I know. It’s a lot,” He sighed, gnawing at his lip as your apprehension began to mirror onto him. “And I know, I was an asshole-“

“Are an asshole.” You corrected, watching him immediately nod in agreement.

“Alright, I’m an asshole. It was stupid to distance myself from you, and I regret it more than you know, I swear of it. I just didn’t know how to sort through my feelings, and I let everyone get in my head and tell me you’d be better off and… I guess I agreed with them? But I knew there was no way you would listen, so I tried my hardest to make you hate me.” He spoke cautiously, nearly wincing at how bad it sounded now that he was saying it out loud.

Your hand came up before you could control it, palm landing across his cheek and the force of it making his head turn to the side. You glared at him with a tense jaw, the tears pricking your waterline indicating something other than anger.

Lo’ak nodded to himself, licking his bottom lip and grazing his fingers over the sting your hand had left on his cheek. “Yeah, I deserved that.” He breathed out a humorous laugh.

You waited forever to have a moment like this with him, and now that you finally had, it wasn’t anything like what you expected it to be. Confessions bringing up stifled emotions and painful memories you thought you buried ages ago. And now the only thing you could think about was all the time that had been wasted due to miscommunication.

“So let me get this straight, you genuinely thought that destroying the bond we had was better than just letting me love you? Couldn’t you have given me a choice, to decide what I thought was best for me? I loved you, Lo’ak. And you broke my heart.” The rise of your chest stuttered and made your voice crack, the sound of it making his eyes soften with remorse.

“Loved?” He parroted, amber eyes searching yours for any remnants of the feeling he hoped remained.

You snatched your hands away, not even realizing what you had said until he repeated it back to you. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” You muttered.

“The hell it doesn’t! Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

You rubbed your forehead in annoyance, feeling a headache coming on and his response only made it worse. “Do you even listen to your mom when she talks to you? Have you not noticed how they put us together in almost every situation possible?” You gesticulated your hands angrily. “They’ve been asking us why we don’t speak anymore, and this trip was a way to make that happen.”

He cursed himself under his breath, because you were right. He doesn’t listen to his mom when she talks— most of the time he’s tuning her out in case it’s just the usual scolding because he did something stupid.

“You don’t get to ask the questions, Lo’ak. I’ve been sitting here for months, trying to talk to you and all you did was push me away, like I was contagious with a fucking disease. How could you?” Your hands balled into fists. You couldn’t fathom how he had found it in his heart to treat you this way.

And you were— contagious, in a way. No matter how hard he tried to push the feelings down, to rid his body of the fluttering sensation you gave him, being around you would only bring it back even stronger than it was before it left. The truth was, Lo’ak had never been as happy as he was with you and it scared him. Scared him so much that he let others make him believe he wasn’t deserving of it. Wasn’t deserving of you.

“You wouldn’t even look at me, not once! I went to our spot everyday, hoping you would show up and you never did. So I gave up.” You said, voice growing smaller with each word and wavering. He raised his hand to wipe the tears you hadn’t realized rolled down your cheeks, his expression so contrite when you leaned away from his touch that it hurt you to watch.

“Don’t say that, please don’t say that.” He pleaded in a whisper, both hands coming up now to cup your flushed face in his hands. “Please don’t give up on us when I’ve just figured it out. I know it took a while and I know I’m an idiot for it, but please don’t tell me that I’m too late.”

You wanted so badly to say yes. Your heart ached to throw yourself into his arms and forget about the way he had treated you, but you couldn’t. The damage had been done, and you were terrified. Terrified that if you let him in again, the past would repeat itself and you knew you couldn’t handle getting your heart stomped on for a second time.

Your hands found their way to his wrists, hiccuping at the thought of pulling them away. You shook your head, eyes locking on his to give him your final answer. “I’m sorry, Lo’ak. I can’t.”

You decided to end your trip early.

You couldn’t bare to be around Lo’ak anymore. Wanting to be with him just as much as he did you, but the doubts in your mind overwrote your heart any time you so much of thought about giving him a chance.

It was a constant battle and it was taking more of a toll on you than you expected. The feeling of his eyes burning into your back was unbearable, his jaw tensing because you just wouldn’t meet his eyes.

He was in agreement. He had finally been confident enough to challenge what the others swore would happen and came to terms with his feelings, but he was too late. The fact that you were so close that he could reach out and touch you was torturous, the only thing stopping him was the wedge he had plunged between you. He wanted to scream. To go back in time and yell in the face of his past self, to tell him that this was the stupidest decision he would ever make if he went through with it. He’d never forgive himself.

As soon as you were out the forest, you went your separate ways with no words spoken. Leaving Lo’ak alone where he stood, his arm moving to reach out to you but missing your fingers just by a mere inch. He prayed you would turn around, ‘come on, come on, turn around’ aimlessly repeating the words to himself. You didn’t.

He threw his bow to the ground, balling his fists up in frustration and bringing his arms up and over his head. “Fuck!” He growled, kicking at the ground and bringing up a cloud of dirt in the process.

You sat on the floor of your hut across from your mother, poking the steamed meat and vegetables around in your bowl with a lack of interest. Your elbow against the table and your chin propped into the palm of your hand, you couldn’t find it in you to take a bite. You had no appetite and feeding yourself was the last thing on your mind right now.

“Maite?” Your mother’s voice tore you from your endless rumination, and you looked up to see her expression as one of concern.

You hummed a mindless response. "Hm?"

“You’ve barely touched your food at all. You love when I make sturmbeest for you…” Her eyes motioned down to where your finger had been poking and prodding. “Is something wrong?” She asked.

You knew your mom, and she knew you. Chances are when she was asking you a question, there was no point in lying because she already had the answer. She just wanted to see what you’d say first. Nevertheless, you decided to try anyway.

You shook your head, pushing a small chunk of food into your mouth as to not be wasteful. “Just thinking.” You mumbled.

“Mm,” She nodded, her eyes never leaving where they were pinned on you. “Why don’t you go talk to him? Sitting here playing with your food won’t change anything.”

Her question nearly had you choking on your food, coughing a bit and forcing yourself to swallow with flared eyes. “H-huh? How did you…” You gulped, your rapid blinking and now straightened posture confirming her inference.

“Well you haven’t said one word of how the trip went since you got back. Not to mention, you came home early. And you haven’t been very present at dinner time lately, so I can only assume that something happened. Yes?” She quirked a brow at you.

You sighed, nodding and pushing your bowl out in front of you. There was no use in lying, you had to tell your mom the truth. You wanted to. “Yes he… He told me how he feels, finally. But I just don’t know what to do, and I don’t know if I can trust him again. I just don’t think it’s meant to be us, mom.” Shoulders drooping at your own revelation, you wanted nothing more than it to be him.

She tsked and shook her head at you, almost annoyed at your inability to see what was right in front of you. “Eywa does not make mistakes, my child. Since the two of you were little, there were signs. You should give him a chance to redeem himself. I am certain you won’t regret it.”

You trusted your mother more than anything. Her advice had never once led you astray, and you felt something wriggle it’s way through the cracks in your wall of uncertainty. Hope.

“You think so?” You asked quietly, fingers twiddling in anticipation. You felt newfound giddiness crawling up your spine and couldn’t find it in yourself to push it back down.

“I know so. The boy has been in love with you since the day you carved your first bows together.” She laughed and your hand shot up to cover an incoming smile. “Now go, find him and tell him how you feel. Don’t make him wait any longer.” She shooed, hastily waving her hands to bring you out of your lovesick trance.

You were up and out of your hut in seconds, bidding your mother a ‘see you later’ while your legs carried you faster than you could handle. You bundled your way past greeting villagers, responding quickly so you wouldn’t have to pause your trekking. They stared at you curiously, wondering where you were off to in such a hurry, away from your home and into the forest.

The heavy padding of your steps left illuminated patches of moss in your wake. The forest coming alive around you and the beating of your heart increasing with every duck under a leaf and leap over a log, knowing you were nearing your destination.

You eventually made your way uphill and onto a clearing, scenting him before you saw him. Poking your head around a low hanging branch, you felt nervousness pool in the pit of your stomach at the sight of Lo’ak’s slightly hunched form seated on the cliff. You stared at the back of his head, trying to gain the courage to approach him and preparing yourself for the conversation to come.

It wasn’t long before he caught a whiff of your scent as well, his ears unconsciously perking up. He could never mistake the intoxicating aroma of episoth petals and healing rose, a sigh escaping him when he remembered how lovely it had been to be around you those short two days. How being close to you after months apart scratched the itch he could never reach.

You walked over, slowly lowering yourself to sit next to him. Mimicking his position and draping your legs over the cliffside. “I thought you didn’t come here anymore.” Your gentle voice broke the silence, eyes focused on the stars gleaming in the distance.

“I never stopped, I was always here when you were. Even your Uniltaron, I was there. And I wanted to talk to you, to tell you I was sorry for the way I was acting. I just didn’t know how.” He said, voice low as if he were afraid to speak. Scared that he’d make another mistake.

You turned to look at him, taking in his glum state and drooped posture. A frown forming on your lips at his confession. You spent months upset with him, trying to hate him. Thinking he discarded your friendship to the side with malice, only to find out he had suffered just as much as you did. Blaming himself for a mistake he didn’t know how to undo. You cast your gaze down at your hands, taking a breath in before your fingers went to overlap his. His head snapped in your direction, his demeanor suddenly hopeful just at the mere touch.

“Lo’ak,” you started, weakly. “I’m scared.” Your eyes stapled shut, and he quickly grabbed your hand and pulled it close to him.

His features solemn, he silently begged you to open your eyes, holding your hand in both of his. “Why?” He whispered.

You sighed shakily, swallowing around nothing. “If I give myself to you, you can’t-“ Your voice shuddered and Lo’ak lifted your hand up, rubbing his cheek against the back of it as encouragement for you to continue. “Please don’t break me again.”

“Had I known I had your heart, I would’ve never done it. I want nothing more than to be loved by you, [Y/n]. To have the privilege to love you, to call you my own. If you’ll have me.” He voiced, bringing your knuckles to his lips and placing a light kiss upon them, golden irises never leaving the ones that were starting to water in front of him. “I love you too much to put you through that again.”

You had never seen Lo’ak so vulnerable, the look in his eyes one of such sincerity that your own emotions quickly overtook you. Ridding your mind of any reluctancy as you threw yourself into his arms. He exhaled heavily, taking not another moment to wrap his arms around you and bury his face into the space where your neck met your shoulder. Inhaling the scent he missed so much. He sighed in relief, hands splayed across your back to hold you as close to him as possible.

You pulled away, to his surprise as he instantly searched your face for any indication of something wrong. You held his face in your hands, barely able to tear your focus from his parted lips as you spoke. “I love you too, ma Lo’ak.” You whispered, his eyes softening at the term of endearment. You melted into his embrace when he closed the gap between you, pressing your lips together without a regard for air. Breathing him in would just have to be enough.

Your head tilted as you deepened the kiss. He chased your lips and followed suit, not wanting to be apart from you even for a second if he could help it. The kiss was desperate and delicate, hasty and lacking of grace as the both of you quenched the thirst water would not quell.

He broke away from you unwillingly, the need for air trumping his intense desire to continue. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He grinned, voice breathless and fangs peeking out while his warm hands travelled up and down the small of your back. Allowing a swarm of butterflies to take home in your belly.

You giggled and clambered your way into his lap, his immediate acceptance revealed in the way his hands dropped down to hold your hips without a second thought. You draped your arms over his shoulders before you pressed your forehead to his, your fingers grazing along the skin of his back to leave goosebumps in your wake. “Just shut up and kiss me again.” You cooed, watching him lick his lips.

You didn’t have to tell him twice.

He gladly leaned in, but not completely— his top lip just faintly brushing against yours. Languidly lingering there with his mouth slightly agape as he relished in the feeling of your warmth, breathing in your air. “Lo’ak…” Your gaze settled on his half-lidded one for a moment and you almost whimpered at the tease. Your hand finding the back of his neck and pulling him into you, eager to pick up right where you left off.

His lips pressed to yours and they moved gently but fervently. The feeling of your weight in his lap making him hum into your mouth as his arms pressed your body flush against his. The desire that remained from all the months apart bled through his soft touches and washed onto you, hands traveling desperately over his heated, striped skin as if you would run out of time.

This was something you could get used to.

Reblogs + Likes + Comments are much appreciated! 💗

#loak x reader #loak x y/n #loak x you #loak fanfiction #loak fic #avatar loak #loak fluff #lo’ak #lo’ak sully #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak x y/n #lo’ak x you #lo’ak fanfiction #avatar way of water #avatar twow #avatar fanfiction #avatar 2

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rosetowers · 7 months

Text

hey if they made a Nimona tv series or something...

what if another kingdom's ruler came to visit for diplomatic/trade reasons

and the ruler was an asshole. let's call him King Dick

he saunters in like he owns the damn place

and takes one look at Bal and goes "ah, yes. this one"

straight up gets down on one knee and proposes

Bal obviously says no, a bit flustered and awkward

King Dick brushes this off

meanwhile Ambrosius is glaring at the king

the other knights are getting a bit nervous

Ambs is well known for being protective of Bal

he also has a history of biting

but he keeps his cool and jealously casually puts his arm around Bal

King Dick does not like this

for like, a few days or so he makes a point of trying to woo Bal

keeps bringing him flowers, offering him riches, interrupting dates with Ambrosius

who eventually gets sick of it

so he challenges King Dick to a duel to leave Bal alone

King Dick takes it has being for Bal's hand and accepts

Ambs just wants to beat the king until he either leaves Bal alone or stops moving

whichever come first

(he's hoping it's the latter)

on Bal's end, this whole thing has been a pretty uncomfortable experience and he doesn't necessarily like Ambrosius being jealous

on the other hand, two rich, important guys are fighting over him, and in all fairness to King Dick he's actually pretty attractive in a smarmy Gaston-like way and a pretty good fighter

it makes him feel special

so he's just enjoying the show for a bit while he waits for Ambs to win

Nimona has just spent this entire plot laughing her ass off and egging Ambs on

she's just having the time of her life

like whatever the state of her relationship with Ambs at this point, she definitely considers him the better option for Bal

anyway King Dick is actually doing really well holding his own against Ambs and eventually they fight to a standstill, neither will yield

Bal's fed up. with the fight and with the king

he's tried to be polite for the sake of diplomacy but he's had enough of being harassed

so he gets between the pair of them

grabs King Dick as though he's gonna kiss him

and head-butts him as hard as he can

(bonus points if the king's wearing a helmet)

then he turns to Ambs and tells him to come get cleaned up

Ambrosius.exe stops working

he kinda nods vaguely and follows Bal to get some medical attention

Nimona loved the whole thing

she's a bit concerned how Bal did that tho

like she's seen him to it before how does he not have a concussion??

now she wants Bal to get checked out too

King Dick eventually wakes up and threatens war if Bal doesn't marry him

everyone's worried until the rest of King Dick's government officials arrive

it turns out King Dick's kingdom is run by a parliament

his family have been powerless figure-heads for generations. he has absolutely no power or authority to declare war

meanwhile the officials are begging for forgiveness for their king trying to steal Ambrosius' (currently the highest authority in the kingdom) boyfriend

everything gets sorted without issue after this

tho King Dick swears vengeance

#netflix nimona #goldenheart #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #nimona

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fkevin073 · 1 year

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I think what I like so much about the ballad of songbirds and snakes is that it shows the true extent of corruption and how it pollutes the soul. Snow wasn't born evil. He was undoubtedly prejudiced against the districts. He was certainly ambitious and snobby. But I think what I find most satisfying about his arc is that - to me at least - there are moments of genuine goodness on his part, or at least the potential to be good.

I think on some level, he did genuinely care about Lucy Gray. He did care Sejanus too, I think, though he didn't want to. Obviously all of this is complicated by his own toxicity and prejudices, but I think Suzanne Collins wanted to highlight the power of choices.

Snow could have chosen love and friendship. He an ample opportunity to. Those seeds of potential to do better and be better could have blossomed. but it didn't because of his own choices. because of what he valued.

I don't think Snow was born as the monster he eventually became, and I certainly don't think these moments of genuine care and affection on his part when he was younger excuses the irredeemable things he did when he was in power. But I think the great tragedy for everyone around him that were most affected by his actions (that knew him personally)- Lucy Gray, Sejanus, Tigris - is that those glimmers of goodness they saw in him that inspired them to attach themselves to Snow in the first place were, to some extent, real.

He just decided not to care anymore. He decided to complete/encourage the system instead of trying to dismantle it. Instead of seeing Lucy Gray as proof that his prejudices against the districts were wrong, he sees her as the exception. Instead of acknowledging Tigris and appreciating the sacrifices she made for him, he chose to honour his reputation and "pride" more. I could go on, really.

But part of the reason why I loved this book so much and that I'm still thinking about it months later is because it shows that Snow actively chose to become what he did. He didn't do it out of vengeance or some tragic revenge plot against the districts. He did it because ultimately he loved power more.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #sejanus plinth

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noroi1000 · 1 year

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could i request a gojo x yn where yn is a famous supermodel while gojo is like businessman mafia and she meets him in a part for influential ppl and some rival of gojo attack the party to catch gojo but can't do it and to save y/n gojo takes her with him in a hurry to make sure she's fine ( bro fell in love at first sight while y/n doesn't really care bcs yk very hard to be impressed type of lady ) but a plot twist in this setting sort of is that there has been cases of many murders recently and the serial killer is impossible to catch ( the killer is y/- ok yes u get it but she killed them bcs she ruined her family or sum like that so our baddie is taking revenge ) well this is a dark theme dark romance request so yep ofc there's dark content and no one knows abt y/n's past at all despite her status no matter how hard they try and gojo after taking her makes her stay with him bcs she's one of the few ppl who saw his face so for privacy purposes and gojo barely finds out abt y/n's "dark deeds" when she throws hints playfully ( she's kinda devious morally grey sort of woman ) and idk what to add much more honestly but yea a smexy romantic love story ( SUB GOJO PLEASE 🙏😍😩 ) and gojo brings her a person to kill every year on her bday bcs she feels "stabby" ( mindfuck book series ref if ykyk ) also ofc y/n continues her career as a supermodel bcs 💅🏼👠. as another personal preference don't make y/n younger as it's uncomfy to me so yeah jsjdndbdnfn

whew this was quite a lot

have a good day !

Beautiful Vengeance

cover by @blvckryx my advisor and friend

paring: Mafia boss Gojo x model reader (killer)

words: 4,7k

warnings: murders, violence, guns, some kidnaping, smut (sub Gojo/dom reader)

Your mother always wanted you to have a good life. That's why when you told her you wanted to be a model when you grow up, she supported you as much as she could. To give you what you might need to make your dreams come true.

Your career took off when you were a teenager. When you were 16, you won a modeling contest, and your name made headlines.

And because you took the victory from one person, your life was about to end...

You competing with a girl whose family was more important than yours. You won anyway thanks to your innate charm, which made you stand in the first place and people considered you a beautiful, future model.

Thanks to this, your career could continue to roll and grow. And you couldn't take that chance.

You've worked so hard. You were the pride of your parents.

But your only opponent was a spoiled female dog who after losing to you all she wanted was to get rid of you.

She was the niece of mob boss Q. A man going by the name Q, who made his living by killing people for hire, dealing drugs and weapons. Even human trafficking. His mafia teams were everywhere.

You didn't know about it until you saw a group of people enter your house.

You were in your room then, and you heard screams and sounds of fighting.

As you quickly made your way down to your parents' living room, all you saw was pools of blood covering the soft carpet.

And three people dressed in black with black masks on their faces. In their hands bloody knives that they used to make your parents lie on the floor with open but dead eyes.

You were sad. You were afraid. You lost your parents. You wanted to cry over their loss. They were everything to you. They loved you, you loved them. You could have lived with them 16 years of your life. And now... It's all over.

Or you die and join them. To shorten your suffering.

But something else popped into your mind. To make them suffer.

You could have died at their hands, or you could have gotten revenge for your parents by killing them.

And you want revenge for the destruction of your life...

So you silently walked over to the cupboard until the opponents saw you, and unscrewing the bottle you let the water flow out of the plastic, soaking the entire floor where one of the people was standing.

You smashed a nearby lamp on his head and stabbed him with the sharpened glass at the end. Throwing the damaged item onto the wet floor, you jumped back quickly, letting his body quiver with the current coursing through him.

You hit the other's neck with your elbow, pulling his head back until you heard a crack.

Such easy ways to kill someone...

You've already killed two people with your own hands. Even if the metallic, disgusting smell of blood was nauseating.

Before you were stabbed by the last man, you took the knife from the dead body, and plunged the bloody blade into his chest.

While his body was still moving, he managed to scratch your head with the tip of the knife, just above the ear. Cutting off some of your shiny hair. Making your ear and the side of your neck covered in drops of blood.

The man in front of you writhed in pain as you pushed the knife hilt towards him, holding the knife in it. Stuck in his sternum in the chest.

Even though you saw the fear of death in his eyes, you felt no regret. Even if he cried and looked at you pleadingly, you showed no mercy.

Just like they had no mercy for your parents.

As he fell to the floor, the knife fell out of his chest, staying in your hand. Covering your hands in scarlet liquid.

When he was twitching and moving away with the last strength, you just walked over to him, and sitting on his stomach, you drove the knife into his heart, slowly watching the life fade from his eyes.

You felt your pajamas soaking in warm sticky blood. However, you didn't let go of the blade as you walked over to your parents and hugged them, not caring how dirty and bloody you were. You slowly and gently closed your eyes and left the house. Heading to a place where you know where a girl used to live surrounding herself with people with "Q" marks on their clothes.

There was a calm expression on your face as you walked straight down the runway, focusing on going perfect. The flashes of the flash bouncing off your eyes. The outfit you're wearing looks so good on you. One of the collections of one of the most famous fashion designers has been selected for you. Alternating with two other models, you go out there, showing the clothes on your body for less than a minute. A then you go back to change into your next outfit, and leave when it's your next turn.

It was your job.

You like it. You are a famous model.

And you don't mind that people only look at what your body looks like.

You go to clothes exhibitions, you take part in advertisements for clothes, cosmetics, nail polishes, jewelry. You are the face of many advertisements.

A lot of people who hire you choose you because you're sexy. And there is mystery in you. And your eyes show killer sexiness.

Your pose is flawless, sophisticated.

Everyone who knew you talked about this mystery in photos and videos. Something obtained without photomontage and without any additional make-up.

And Dark Beauty when you're seen in the ads for the blood red collection. Everything from lips to nails was a rich red.

That color just reminded you of what had happened over the years of your life. You don't care as long as no one knows about it.

Besides, your revenge isn't quite complete yet.

When you were 16, you swore revenge on those who hurt your family and you. You are 23 now. You are a famous model that neither the media nor anyone knows the whole truth about.

Nobody knows anything about your childhood, nobody knows anything about your past.

"Our killer only kills those from Q? Pretty good..." the white-haired man muttered, looking at the lists of names killed by one person this month. Three people. He couldn't feel sorry for these people. Each of them had the symbol of the Q family. How could he worry about the death of his enemies?

"Gojo-san, there's going to be a fashion show party soon with Q's boss."

He looked at the man who had spoken to him.

He stood up, adjusting his white shirt, adjusting the collar. He put on a black jacket and black glasses hiding his face.

"I couldn't miss it. Let's get together, guys. Time to bust some Q's heads."

Upon arrival, Gojo sat in a chosen spot next to the raised stage for models.

Soon after, the lights all around went out. The stage was lit.

This made it difficult for them to find their target.

So they decided to wait until the main banquet and party started to catch their enemies then.

Those who hinder his mafia cannot exist. Creating a business is a daily routine for the great "Six Eyes. And when people who have contracts with him are suddenly found dead with a "Q" burned into their skin, he can't sit idly by.

When he watched the fashion show, he thought it was everything he had seen before. All models the same, with fake smiles, with everything to make them even more attractive to the viewer. In none of them, in his opinion, was one whose eyes reflected the soul. And Six Eyes draws attention to human eyes. He knows people's eyes when they show fear or anger. When they show emotion. According to him, there was nothing interesting in the eyes of these women.

Until you came out from behind the curtain, walking calmly ahead. In an elegant black dress.

Your face showed a certain coldness, but warm at the same time. Your eyes were so mysterious.

White hair caught your attention, and you looked at him once.

And then, the mysterious darkness in your eyes made his heart beat faster.

Despite your emanating true model face, coupled with a nice façade, he felt your beauty was deadly. And he liked it very much. Mysterious danger.

A beautiful cat that can scratch her claws at any time. Even to death.

His eyes sparkled behind his glasses as he felt a little blush appear on his cheeks.

It was the first time he fell in love with someone at first sight.

No... It was the first time he truly fell in love. And he didn't want to lose this chance.

That's why he memorized as many details of your face as possible to catch you at the party after the fashion show. Because he sincerely hoped you'd be there.

Even if this party here may be bloody and trashed tonight.

But the moment everyone heard a few shots and one man fell to the floor lifeless, Gojo knew that this was no time for love or fun for him.

After all, he came here to get rid of enemies in an easy way.

And the orders to anyone who came with him said only: "If you see someone from Q, shoot without hesitation. They're definitely here."

All the people panicked and started to run.

And then each of them took out a gun and started shooting at the enemies.

When the white-haired man saw that you were standing behind the curtain on the stage, without a moment's thought he ran ahead, jumped on the platform and pulled you on his shoulder, to sit behind a meter high and shoot to protect you. His goal in sight has already killed three opponents today.

"What're you-?!" You screamed as you pulled away from him.

You already had a plan to approach one of the Q's from behind and slit his throat!

And he interrupted you.

"Don't be afraid, you won't die." He said to you.

You couldn't see his eyes clearly through his glasses. But you know he's not a cop.

You are in the middle of a fight between mafias.

Arrows started raining in your direction and he then quickly pulled you in front of him, making you kneel in front of him, and he lowered your head to his chest as he bent down so they wouldn't shoot him.

As he knelt, leaning forward, you were underneath his body. That's how he protected you.

You don't know why he did it. But you guess there's a deeper meaning to it.

It was the first time anyone protected you. It was nice of him. Because that man didn't even know you. You only looked at each other once during the show. Few minutes ago!

When there were fewer shots in your direction, you crawled out from under his chest, heading around the narrow stage.

And you, too, reached into your thigh and pulled out a folding knife.

Ignoring the screams of the white-haired man behind you and the shots, you kept walking. Until you finally saw a man with a "Q" tattoo on his neck.

You literally felt the knife sharpening in your hand and you quickly walked over to him without making a sound and smashed the knife into his neck. And then to the side of the head.

You quickly pulled away and sheathed the knife to check for blood. Fortunately not.

You were pulled to your feet by the same man who tried to save you right after all the shots had stopped.

You looked at his face without glasses.

You noticed the beauty and unique vigor of the eyes.

You heard another shot.

You looked to the side to see a dark haired man firing a gun at a man who was sitting with his back against the stage to make sure he was dead. With his head on the side. Because of this, no one could see the hole in his temple and neck, which is why he died.

"That's everyone. None of them managed to escape." He said, addressing the white-haired man. "What about her? Shoot? You don't have glasses."

He pointed the barrel of the gun at you.

You'd love to fight. If only that guy's hands weren't on your shoulders.

"She saw my face, huh... It's okay. We're taking her with us." He said with a smile.

"What?!" you shouted pissed off.

"Baby, you couldn't see my face. It's not against the rules of my Mafia. No one except those closest to me has seen my face or knows my real name. According to the rules, I should kill you or lock you up so you don't tell anyone. However, killing you would be a great loss. You're so beautiful and you got me curious... I don't want to kill someone I fell in love with."

"...Hold on!" You screamed as you pushed him, but he only held you tighter.

"Come on. I just have to admit there's something mysterious about your eyes. What you show on stage is not the real you, is it?"

"Fuck off!"

"Aw, honey..." he mumbled sadly.

He started to drag you by the wrist to the car. And even though you kept leaning against you, when the other man helped him to immobilize your arms, you were put in the car and he got in right behind you. The door was closed.

You noticed the black window in front of you, separating you from the driver.

That's good. Maybe you can kill him.

When he looked away for a moment, you put your hand under your dress, pulling your knife from the belt on your thigh, and suddenly jumped into his lap, putting the blade to his throat.

"Hey, baby, this is how you repay me for helping me? Understand that these are the rules we have." He said with a smile, hands raised in front of you.

"I could handle myself." You growled.

"Such a dangerous, beautiful woman. What part is the real you?"

"Who are you?! Someone from Q?!"

"Slow down a bit. Actually, it's like I'm taking you, so I should be the one asking the questions. But okay. I'm Six Eyes. Mafia boss. And when it comes to Q, I'm their biggest adversary."

You wondered if you should trust him. He didn't seem threatening now. Also, there was no Q anywhere here.

Holding the knife to his throat, you hesitated for a moment on what to do.

This caused his hands to quickly pull you down to the seat. His both hands held your wrists while his hips touched your ass as you lay on your stomach.

"If I was from Q, I'd rather kill myself than be there. And besides, everyone from Q would pay no attention to anything. They would just tie you up, rape you, kill you, and then dump your body in a ditch. Did I do that?"

"If you tried, I'd castrate you." You growled.

"Dangerous. I like it. However..." he let go of your wrists and sat in his place, giving you space. "I don't know if you could do something for me. I must admit your ferocity and hostility is strong. But let's say I'm the Mafia boss and you're the model."

"Do not underestimate me..."

"So tell me, (y/n) (l/n), why shouldn't I underestimate you? Tell me something about you. Because you are famous, but your biography is not known by anyone."

You were locked up in the large villa that was his home for several days. Why? Because he didn't want to lock you up in your old garages. He didn't want you gagged and bound while you sat there for who knows how long.

Your relationship was closer because you liked him. However, there was still some tension between the two of you.

Him, the annoying, selfish asshole and egotist who spoke to you the way he wanted to, and always came in when you least expected it.

He was able to come to you in the bathroom while you were taking a bath.

And he joined you.

That's why things became intimate between the two of you quickly, even though you weren't even a couple. You could just be considered friends now.

And you both liked the relationship you already had.

Nothing changed for the next two weeks.

It doesn't matter how many times you hit him with a pan until he finally let you go.

Of course he didn't because he acted like a child after being hit on the head with a pan. He pretended to cry.

You took good care of him and checked him for any head injury. Everything was fine. So you didn't have to worry.

And then he wouldn't let you get out of bed, wanting to make you feel guilty for doing it.

He was lying on your stomach, making you rub and stroke his head because it hurt. And it was your fault.

You apologized to him, and what else were you supposed to do?

It was your revenge for him locking you in here. And for skipping one of the most important performances where you were supposed to show clothes on stage. However, you couldn't complain, because as compensation for your lost money, you received from him a wardrobe worth half a year of your work. Or even more.

If only he was still good at sex, then you wouldn't complain so much. Because your partners were terrible. It's as if they couldn't do anything.

Besides, you've also been given a luxurious house that you have to live with him anyway.

"Come on. I already apologized to you..." you said, running your fingers through his white hair.

"But it hurt..." he said, pretending to cry.

"You don't even have a trace of it. There isn't even a bump on your head."

"But it still hurt...

"You've probably watched the ball through your opponents more than once, right?"

"Not at all..."

"You're in the mafia, Satoru..."

So yes, he told you his real name with the idea that you can't leave him and leave his house anyway. So your names were used by you on a daily basis.

"I've been in the mafia since my mother gave birth to me. I took it from my father... Besides, nobody ever shot me. Because I shot faster and more accurately than they did. When I was 15 I killed a spy who was looking for our weak point in our defense." He laughed, purring as your fingers swirled in his hair.

"So you had a bloody childhood too?"

"I doubt you shot anyone when you were a teenager." He laughed. "How old are you anyway?"

"I'm 23." You replied.

"Same as me! You see? We are made for each other!" He stood up suddenly, looking at you with sparkles in his eyes.

"Apparently you have a headache." You laughed as you saw him quickly lay down on top of you again. "Come on. Come, let me stroke you a little more."

"Which means you had a bloody childhood?"

"Do you really want to know? Don't you prefer that I leave my mysterious eyes?"

"You're smart and cold, or so you think. At fashion shows and commercials, you change it to a mysterious and sensual façade. However, you can care for someone else."

"I hit you with a pan. Is this supposed to be taking care of someone?"

He laughed slightly.

"It was different. Because I don't forbid you to be aggressive. I understand that you hate me. But now you're stroking and hugging me. You wash me while I wash you. We are not such enemies. Can you say we're lovers?"

"I don't know. But when I was 16, I also did something that probably no other model has ever done." You laughed.

He looked at you for a moment, analyzing what you said.

And 7 years ago, almost 10 people were murdered. And from that moment on, the murders of everyone in the Q group and family began. Starting with some of the closest ones from the family of the boss himself.

And these murders continue to this day. The murderer is impossible to catch because no one knows who he is. The gender of this person is unknown. No one knows what his goals are in these murders.

"This knife... You..." He looked at you questioningly.

"I have a knife scar under my hair. And the blood stains are washing off the skin." You said softly. "You can beat me if you know the truth now. If you think I'll be in the way or I shouldn't kill people like them. But remember that if you try, I will try to protect myself."

"You know it doesn't matter to me We may even be partners in crime. Because this is the woman I fell in love with at first sight." He hugged you, holding you tight.

Your actions for revenge are not ridiculed by him. On the contrary. He supports it.

And he promises that everyone from Q will die.

Because he fell in love with mysterious dark eyes. Eyes that from the beginning hid something murderous. So beautiful.

Just like all of you.

Your relationship was like lovers and enemies at the same time.

Or was it more like partners in crime now?

Dark lovers who don't care about the lives of their enemies. You has a mafia boss, the famous Six Eyes, wrapped around your little finger.

You guided him. His heart.

Such a powerful man was so small and sweet to you. So submissive.

That's why you could give that big little boy what he wanted.

You were still riding his cock until you were out of breath that night.

Or rather, his breath.

When you wonder if he's good at sex, you thought he was going to be average.

However, it is different.

He has a big nice dick.

It really stretches you out. It goes so deep. It hits all the best places.

You could barely feel the thin condom against his thick length as your pussy slid over him, lovingly inviting him into your tight warmth every time you lowered your hips.

His arms were bound with the string you found. It felt so good in his muscles.

He couldn't move while you scratched his arms and bit his neck.

You were riding him, making him moan. His hips pushed upward to meet your warmth. Your hand on the back was catching his balls and you were squeezing the skin in your palm. You pinched his thighs. You ran your hands over his lower abdomen, running your fingers along the veins running down his pubic bone.

Your fingernails ran over his chest, occasionally grazing his nipples.

While riding him, you massaged your clitoris to make you come faster. And you smiled as you watched as his head was thrown back as he red-faced moaned at the feeling of your pussy sucking him. His chest heaved rapidly.

His cock twitched inside you.

And then you pulled it out of you, leaving it out in the air. Only with a thin condom on it.

He moaned as your fingers tightened on the base of him, not allowing him to come.

It was his first ruined orgasm you gave him.

And you think he was always driving during sex. He was downstairs now, but he didn't protest. This guy just needed someone to dominate him the right way.

Very slowly and unbearably, you took the condom off him as the precum began to form a transparent puddle in the sperm reservoir.

Leaning down to his red cock, you kissed his head, listening as he moaned, his hips jumping as he felt a sudden touch against a sensitive part of his body.

He was so red and sensitive from a ruined orgasm. It was so cute.

You sat on his hips, and rubbed your pussy against his length, pressing his shaft against his muscular belly.

At the same time, you pulled his face down to your chest, doing something he always did when he saw you shirtless. You put his head in your breasts and he immediately started sucking on your nipples. Feeling the softness of your skin.

Soon after, he started moaning again and you stopped touching his cock again. If he wasn't tied up now, he would grab the length of it and start stroking himself to feel relieved. But alas, his hands were tied. There was nothing he could do and he was at your mercy.

You pressed your fingers against it again. Ensuring not one drop of his cum will come out of his tip. He couldn't come yet.

You want to see him throw his head back and moan when he wants to cum so much.

You sat on his cock when he didn't have a condom on, and he hissed through his teeth at the hot and tight feeling when he had nothing to separate your insides from his sensitive skin.

You grabbed the second condom and ripped open the wrapper. Only then did you get off of him, watching his wet tip drool.

You put the rubber all the way down his length, and then you sat on him again.

Warming his cock until his eyes were glassy and hazy and his face was so red.

As he threw his head back and his shoulders and hips trembled, wanting to start thrusting into you to come, you gave him some mercy.

You started jumping on top of him, smiling as you watched his heavy breathing and closed eyes.

The mighty mafia boss began to moan beneath you. And his ragged moans coupled with light sobs were the cause of his intense orgasm which was a combination of the three he was about to get. His thighs trembled as he came filling the condom inside you, the heat from his fluids pushing his sensitivity to the limit.

As you pulled him out of you, his cock fell soft against his stomach. You took the filled condom off him and tied it, putting the sticky rubber on his abs.

You lay down next to him, untying his hands, letting him pull your body against his.

Your nights together made him unable to resist you. So when you wanted to go back to your dream job, he had to agree.

Two people followed you across the city.

Even if he trusted you not to tell anyone.

He had your secret and you had his.

Little cameras in people's suits let him see what you were doing.

Well, he knew what you would do with those two.

Besides, he didn't feel sorry for them. They were two deserters who ran away from Q to join his mafia.

And he promised you that everyone who is or even was with Q will die.

That's why when he suddenly saw a pool of blood on the other side, he wasn't surprised and didn't even feel sorry for the two people.

Then he saw your face as you held the camera in one hand and your knife in the other.

"Not nice, Six Eyes ~. I don't like being followed. And we'll keep your punishment for that for later, Okay?"

When you said that, he felt a pleasant shiver that passed over his spine. And he couldn't wait for you to come home.

You were his dark queen.

His dark, beautiful queen will have her beautiful vengeance.

Because you will get everything.

Every year, on your birthday, he would take you to one place where the dirty work of killing was often done.

As a surprise, you got one or two high-ranking Q people.

Because his beautiful queen will always get what she wants.

So if you want revenge, you'll get it. In the best way for you.

You are his killer beauty. His deadly love.

#gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #Mafia boss Gojo #jjk #jjk x you #jujustu kaisen #gojo #jjk x reader #Sub Gojo

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calisources · 3 months

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𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒.

All sentences in this meme are taken from all of the house of the dragon season two teasers and new trailers so far up to date. Change names, locations, pronouns as you see fit.

Errors were made in the hours following King Viserys' death.

The war will be fought,many will die,and the victor will eventually ascend the throne.

There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin, and no war so bloody as a war between dragons.

We fight for our queen!

My father chose me, his firstborn child, to succeed him. He held to his decision until death.

And yet, Alicent's son sits on my throne.

I mean to fight this war, and win it.

The realm will soon tear itself apart if men do not remember the oaths sworn to King Viserys, and to his rightful heir.

The Hightowers are marching. You must crush this beast at its head.

Our terms are very simple: renounce the false king, and bend the knee to the queen, or your house burns.

When the desire to kill and burn takes hold and reason is forgotten, we will not even remember what began the war in the first place

I fear what I have begun.

There are two sides of a story.

Choose your side.

For the one true king, Aegon!

Only weeks ago, my lord husband was alive and the realm was at peace.

On his death bed, he knew the realm would never accept a queen.

Rhaenyra's supporters will believe what they wish, but Viserys wanted Aegon to succeed him.

They wish now not for the good of the realm, but for the satisfaction of vengeance.

Plot against the king, and I will pay it back a hundred times over.

I'm as fearsome as any of them.

You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne.

My uncle is a challenge I welcome, if he dares face me.

We will prevail and bring forth peace.

You must accept that the path to victory now is one of violence.

Good....to war then.

All my life, I've endeavored to serve both my house and the realm.

Whose side are you on?

When the desire to kill and burn takes hold and reason is forgotten, we will not even remember what began the war in the first place.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #hotd meme #house of the dragon meme

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maeve-is-annoying-about-books · 1 month

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I didn't really wanna talk ahead of the Dungeon Meshi anime but I had this thought bugging me as I was skimming the manga. So, spoilers for what's to come.

I don't think it's any coincidence that Laios' party, out of a cast of infinitely more capable people, makes it to the final floor of the Dungeon. Why? Cause they aren't heroes.

Look at Kabru, he's the poster boy for anime protagonists. He has a tragic backstory, a personal beef with the dungeon, skills trained by a master of the crafts, and a large party who seems genuinely friendly together. He has everything going for him to one day dive to the bottom and gain closure for his story but he just can't. He never will, because the dungeon does not work on his logic. It turns out that there is no plot armor against hearing a siren sing for the first time.

What about Mithrun then? Personally wronged by the Demon, he's the paradigm of vengeance. A tragic hero who will do anything it takes to get to his goal and probably die achieving it. He has a party full of dark history and interesting dynamics, really laden with moral greyness. Not Berserk but a step closer to it than Kabru's story. But he is, unfortunately, also a classic hero archetype, and although his skills are impressive they aren't fit for the ecosystem around him, singleminded vengeance will see you killed by changelings, the cold, or starvation.

Shuro, it's gotta be Shuro right? A man from a distant land but a familiar one to the primary readerbase. He goes back to train, hone his mind, collect a party, and save the love interest from a cruel fate. Perhaps he will learn there is no saving her, and tragically be forced to slay the monster she's become. His journey ends the second Faligon dies, so he has no chance, ever, of becoming the Dungeon Lord. There doesn't need to be any extra traps to deter him, he'll get what he wants at the fourth level and be gone, his desire simply isn't pointed that way.

Laios, on the other hand. None of his party are heroes, they're all here for selfish reasons and have absolutely zero illusions about heroics and greater goods. Laios is here to save Falin, he only wants his sister to be safe. And to eat and document monsters. Marcille is here for forbidden magic and Falin, and her two desires coincide with her resurrection. Chilchuck is here because he got paid up front and can't leave without rumors spreading. Senshi was always here and he just wants to live in peace with nature. None of them have heroic intent, broadly. But it also means they don't have heroic conceit either.

Laios' party will eat anything. They'll run from battle, take shortcuts. They treat monsters not as grand challenges to overcome but something to fight for their lives with. With their teeth if need be. There is no honor here there is only living. Honor gets you strangled by treasure bugs. Revenge will see you abandon your party to giant spiders for the mere shot at your target. Duty sees you skipping meals because your goal is so important. It is striking how different the dungeon is between Laios and the others. They all treat the dungeon as their personal hell to be striven against and conquered, only Laios sees it as an extension of the living world and understands his place in it. And I think that is so fucking cool, it's so multifaceted. Like, their exact skill set is perfect for getting through the dungeon because of how they all treat it. But also because the dungeon wants them there, because they have very personal, strong desires. Desires that shape their skills, and desires shaped by their skills in a kind of Ouroboros.

And it's an interesting question of how much of both factors into their progress in the story.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi spoilers #I just think it's neat how only an unlikely hero could make it all work #like it doesn't matter how skilled someone is if they don't try to integrate into the ecosystem #it would be like climbing a mountain without ever having lived on one or trained to climb or reading anything on them

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inoreuct · 8 months

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Headcanons for Zoro and Sanji as Hades and Persephone? 👀

HERE WE GOOOOO. buckle up. this is LONG.

sanji’s persephone. the breathtakingly beautiful god of spring, kind and charming with wit sharper than a grain scythe and a marvellous capacity for divine rage. he’s a whiz in the kitchen (it’s sanji. duh.) and has a green thumb to boot; up on the surface he has a garden that’s his pride and joy, where he grows his own fruits and herbs and vegetables and rare blooms, occupying a plot of land together with the cottage that he and zeff (more on him later) stay at whenever they can.

zoro’s hades. intimidating as all hell (heh), has a MAJOR resting bitch face, and a three-headed dog with the heads named wado, kitetsu and enma. he’s a good man, just VERY emotionally constipated and he’s never had to woo anyone before; it should be illegal for someone that powerful to be so awkward but he IS.

he goes up to the surface one day to take care of underworld business, something about dead souls escaping— and he sees sanji in his garden, on his knees in the dirt, gathering herbs with his hair a mess, golden as the sun and all over his face and when he flips it aside to talk to zeff his smile is even brighter. zoro feels his heart lurch so hard he wonders if he’d gotten cardiac arrest.

and as previously mentioned, zoro has NO IDEA how to talk to this beautiful— god? nymph? human?? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t care. he wants to get to know his mystery guy but he doesn’t want to freak him out, so he just thinks FUCK IT I’LL BRING HIM TO MY HOME AND FIGURE IT OUT FROM THERE. totally not a bad idea.

zeff’s demeter. protective, sometimes TOO protective, the god of agriculture practically raised sanji himself; barely anyone even knows that he HAS a son. he has fields upon fields of grain; rice, oats, wheat, whatever sanji requires to cook and bake to his heart’s content. the entire valley where their cottage resides is known to be zeff’s territory, and he doesn’t hesitate to rain holy vengeance down on whoever trespasses.

which is why zeff is so mad when zoro pops out of the literal dirt and whisks sanji away. it’s not fun for any of the human farmers on earth that day.

when zoro brings him to the underworld, sanji’s pissed as fuck; kicks and yells the whole way down, then knees him in the balls and nearly rips out one of his earrings before strutting off like he already owns the place. what about his garden? zeff? all the humans he has a soft spot for?? who the fuck does this king of the underworld think he is, plucking sanji out of his life like this?

meanwhile, zoro lies there curled up on the ground as wado licks at his face, and for the first time in his life he wonders if making a plan would have been a better idea. he asks his shades to gather information and learns that sanji’s the god of spring, zeff’s son in all the ways that matter; but even if he hadn’t been a god, zoro would have easily made him immortal if he’d wished. the thought is wild and so out of character for him that he sits there for even longer until the shades tell him that sanji’s demanding to talk to him.

sanji finds the throne room but on the way he’d already passed multiple chambers filled with gold, crystals, extremely rare night-blooming plants— he walked by a cave with its walls encrusted with rubies as big as his head. but he misses the sun. he misses his flowers and his herbs and fuck, he had a bundle of rosemary drying in the kitchen. he really hopes he’ll get to see it again.

the shades are all polite, if a little wary, but they seem to relax more when he smiles at them. the throne room is massive, a cavern with stalactites dripping from the ceiling and ending in wicked points, and the throne itself is a twisted amalgamation of iron and volcanic glass, gold and bleached bone and pure, sparkling diamond.

he doesn’t even flinch when zoro enters with his sweeping black cloak and his liquid, inky shadows, just pulls his lip up in a sneer; he doesn’t give a shit who this big shot is. doesn’t care for the crown of ivory and obsidian set atop his brow. he knows where he is, knows exactly who he’s dealing with, and he stomps right up to zoro, shoves a finger in his chest and says, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing.”

the shades obviously didn’t see the whole getting-kneed-in-the-family-jewels spectacle, because there is a collective audible gasp. the court goes deadly quiet. zoro feels his shadows subconsciously swirl around him, building the silhouette behind his back into something out of a nightmare, but he makes an effort to disperse them as soon as sanji looks.

“i want. to court you,” he ekes out, eyes big and mouth pinched, and sanji suddenly realises that this man is just very, very awkward and obviously has not interacted with many living people for a very long time.

and no matter about anything else, zoro looks earnest. he takes a deep breath and his shoulders shift beneath his cloak, lifting his chin— but his expression screams pleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyes and sanji… doesn’t have the heart to say no. what will a few days hurt, right?

so they come to an agreement. sanji will spend a month in the underworld and allow zoro to court him, and if by the end of that time he doesn’t want to stay, zoro would personally see to it that he got home safe. he isn’t a prisoner, either; he is free to wander in the upper world for half the day. twelve hours of sunshine, and twelve hours in zoro’s domain.

if sanji’s honest with himself, the underworld honestly isn’t bad; zoro spares no expense to ensure he's comfortable even though he doesn't come see sanji himself very often in the beginning.

(sanji doesn't know it yet, but it’s because zoro's deathly terrified of sanji genuinely hating/fearing him or the underworld, or not being happy. he'd brought sanji down because he'd fallen hard and fast in love but if sanji ever truly did want to leave, it wouldn’t be a question. zoro would send him back up with his weight in jewels and gold as recompense.)

it's a little lonely, but not horrible; sanji befriends the shades and talks to the passing spirits, and word spreads that the king's crush (oh, zoro would have a conniption if he heard) is to be treated with the utmost respect, not just because of the order zoro proclaimed but because he deserves it. sanji is kind and understanding and snarky and fun to be around, but he also gives solid advice and he's a good bit more emotionally aware than zoro. the shades haven’t gossiped this much in years and honestly zoro’s concerned about their work ethic, but he walks past a tea-spilling session one day and hears sanji giggle and all thoughts of stopping it fly right out of his brain.

zoro snoops around secretly and finds out that sanji’s birthday is within the month. the last day of their stipulated month, in fact. so he calls in a favour from luffy (apollo!! the sun god!! his best friend!!). he spends two weeks, almost three in a cave he’d picked out, carefully pulling gemstones and groundwater to the surface, getting his shades to bring down soil and seeds and consulting with dead farmers about how the hell he’s supposed to pull off what he wants to pull off, because he HAS to pull it off.

all the while, he’s still courting sanji; having tea with the god of spring, trying not to embarrass himself and mainly just trying to win sanji over. he gets so enthralled by sanji recounting a story once that he drops an entire crystal teapot, heart hammering as one of his shades phase through the ground and catches it before it can shatter. sanji looks a little perplexed about how it suddenly disappeared, but zoro urges him to go on and he lets it go.

(zoro had never been that panicked in his entire immortal life.)

i can’t believe it WE NEED A PART 2 I’M OUT OF CHARACTERS

(part 2 here)

#zosan #op zosan #one piece zosan #zoro x sanji #roronoa zoro #one piece sanji #one piece zoro #black leg sanji #one piece #zosan au #ask box #ino’s ask box

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la-imp · 1 year

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AVATAR RECOM HEADCANONS - INTRO

Recoms!Deja Blu Unit - Science"Puke"! Reader

This is my first headcanon series and I am incredibly nervous because there are so many good ones out there already. I have read quite a few amazing headcanon series by various blogs who practically carry the whole Avatar Fanfic scene, which I am really grateful for! I know these sorts of scenarios have been done a lot by now, but I wanted to get one out and put my own spin on it. I hope to write more and update this series as well as take in requests, one-shots, etc, expanding on the characters as much as I can. I hope you enjoy! Avatar has consumed my life, lol...

Disclaimer: I do not own AVATAR, nor do I own its creative properties and original characters. I do, however, own the 'reader' character as well as other created figures that do not appear in the Avatar films, video games, or comic books. Characters involved: Miles Quaritch, Lyle Wainfleet, Alexander Ja, Mansk, Zdindarsk aka Z-Dog, Zhang, Lopez, Fike, Warren, Walker, Prager, Brown - mentions of Jake Sully

Plot Summary: The story takes place during the events of TWOW, right before the great reef battle. I won't spoil any crucial plot details (for those who haven't watched the movie yet), so I'll end it there. The reader is a militant medic with a biochemistry background, now assigned special care to ensure Project Phoenix's success. As their body chemistry is quite different and unique from that of humans, they require some help getting used to their new vessel. This is where you come in... and boy... you were not prepared for this. A bunch of Na'vi Human hybrids at the peak of their prime, fuelled by hormonal rage, primal instincts, and a knack for vengeance, they sure as hell turned your daily life topsy turvy. To them, you were nothing more than another science puke here to bore them out of their minds, even though you had some military training as well. It is up to you to show them otherwise. To earn a place in their ranks.

Will (y/n) be able to handle this task or eventually fold like the others?

Warning(s): Cursing - Mild bullying - Negging - Foul language - Playful flirting

Content: SFW (Minors DNI) The reader is human and female. I plan to write specific headcanons for each individual character, but this was just a very long and detailed starter in order to get the ball rolling. Also this is not proof-read, so take this with a grain of salt. Happy reading! (also English is not my first language, so please bear with me) ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hailing from a gentle background of academics and artists, you've decided to take a completely different route from what your family had destined for you. Going against their wishes and dissapointing a few members here and there was a price you were willing to pay in order to fulfill a lifelong dream. The prize of independence. Or perhaps you were tired of people telling you what you could and couldn't do. The idea of an adventure, exploring new worlds and galaxies, far far away from home was far more attractive than spending your years trying to fix a dying planet. But you also had a knack for helping and aiding those in need. Being a healer with a vast background of medicine and herbs only came natural to you. And as you graduated top of your class, you sought a new challenge. So you joined the space force. Military training was hard but you managed adquedately. And as you finally becamea full-fledged medic, you signed a contract with the RDA to be shipped off to Pandora.

Save to say, the six years of light-year travel did take a toll on your body. It was often emphasized that dreams do not occur during cryo sleep. Yet, your case was the opposite. Over and over you saw visions of a lush, prehistoric forest that almost looked magical and foreign. Due to overpopulation and pollution, nature seized to exist altogether back on earth, so thinking of what this mythical Pandora may look like, sparked a fire in the pits of your stomach. You began to wonder if these dreams held any meaning to them... or if it was just your brain chemistry running haywire during the cryogenic sleep. The closer you got, the giddier you grew - excited and electrified at the idea of setting foot on one of the most precious planet known to man. Perhaps in the entire universe.

After your space shuttle finally docked at the RDA's space station, you were quickly briefed on your assignment by the announcers, guiding you to the nearest secretary. The secretary looked over her glasses and tossed you an illegible glare before sighing with a shake of her head, handing you your paperwork. "May God have mercy on you," she mumbled before calling for the next candidate. You took the papers hesitantly, brows furrowing in confusion before your eyes cast down on on these said documents. Your eyes widened as your heart nearly sank. You were assigned to assist military Avatar personnel? You looked back up at the lady who was now grinning at you, a glint playing in her gaze. "Fresh meat for the grinder. It's a bit crass they decided to assign a small girl such as yourself to help these beasts," You slowly nodded, an awkward semi-smile forming on your lips, "I guess I like a challenge," you said, tone matching her sarcastic one. You have studied them for three years now, after all. You were prepared.

A few labcoats accompanied by a good portion of cleanroom suits were helping you find your way before passing you your exopack mask. It was the first time you'd ever seen one of those from up close. The concept of not being able to breathe the atmosphere was somewhat daunting. But it was something you had to get used to if you wanted to survive Pandora's 'Adapt or Die' rules. Wasting no time, you quickly strapped them on and secured the clasps, allowing the small piece of machinery to flood your nostrils with fresh oxygen. Impressed, you found it was much clearer and cleaner than that of Earth's... sadly enough. You then remembered the comment from the secretary earlier on, echoing in your mind over and over again until it festered in the back of your subconscious. Anxiety began to take a hold of you, shaking your confidence ever so slightly.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you then issued a curt nod to your superiors who lastly gave you a clipboard, detailing all of your duties and rank among the Recom unit members. "Ready, greenhorn?" Dr. Vasquez piped up, drawing you from your trance. You blinked at him with a wide-eyed deer-caught-in-headlights look, lips parting, "Y-yeah." he chuckled in response to your nervousness before slapping a hand on your shoulder in confidence. "Don' worry, they may look very scary at first glance, but you will soon realize they are professionals just like us, alright?" You nodded, swallowing the lump down your throat before clamping the board beneath your armpit. "Alright then kiddo, let's rock'n'roll," he said with a smirk before punching in a security code to unlock the doors to the decompressors.

The air was filtered to fit the atmosphere of the recoms. Which was in turn, extremely toxic to humans. Unconscious in twenty seconds - dead in four minutes. The prospect didn't sound like very glamorous death. As the door opened, a hiss emitted from the pressure, giving way to the bright light of the sun peaking through the glass windows. Vasquez marched forward before beckoning you to join him. Upon entering, the energy of the room immediately shifted. It was almost palpable to the touch.

A good part of your confidence was chipped away once you laid your eyes on your future teammates. Breath nearly caught in your throat. To say they were tall was a big understatement. They were huge - as a matter of fact - larger than life! Nothing could've prepared you for this. Most of them stood at around ten feet and nearly scraped the ceilings if they hadn't been adjusted to meet their physiology. You continued to saunter forward, one tentative step at a time, eyes still glued to their physiques without so blinking an eye. Their bodies were even more strange, striking you with awe. Slender, graceful, svelte, yet powerful. The complexion was a deep cyan or darker powder blue, decorated in interesting patterns and luminescent dots, all accompanied by a long prehensile tail that idly swung from side to side, giving them a more animalistic edge. They were all broad-shouldered, even the women, as you scanned the room with all the blue-skinned individuals lurking about, their poise signifying a certain strength and fortitude that of a warrior. They could easily toss a person across the room and break every single bone in their body with one blow if they wished.

Eyes were striking like molten gold peering from the shadows, intensely following your every move. Their previous chatter immediately died down as their eyes glued to you and the other scientists. Vasquez took his position next to someone who seemed much more commanding and authoritive compared to the rest. He stood slightly taller and wore a khaki tanktop, exhibiting a set of toned, muscular arms placated on his hips. You caught a glimpse of his tattoo on his left arm. A black eagle. A remnant of his previous life? Or something to distinguish himself from the others, perhaps?

The way he walked with a certain swagger, taking a stance next to Vasquez, sharp yellow eyes peering into the hall, had you nearly choke on your own saliva. He was an intimidating man, "As you all know, we are sent here to accomplish a mission that we couldn't last time. To hunt down and terminate the leader of the Na'vi insurgency, Jake Sully. And in order to ensure our success, we have been assigned our personal medical officers who specialize in Na'vi physiology. They make sure none of us step out of line and patch us up during missions. Treat 'em with respect, ya hear? They are as much our responsbilities as we are theirs," his tone was a low, commanding drawl, hinting at his possible origin back from Earth. He also sounded a tad older than his bio stats suggested.

"Wait, we're going to have these science pukes tag along?" Someone groaned in the background.

Doctor Vasquez nudged you with his elbow before whispering something into your ear. So he was the colonel. Colonel Miles Quaritch. The leader of the first recombinant unit Deja Blu, the first Avatar squad produced by Project Phoenix. Vasquez then nodded and brought you and another male medical officer. Thankfully you weren't alone. And as you peeked into the crowd, practically feeling their eyes rake over your forms in a very scrutinizing manner, you wished there were more human scientists to accompany you. "Listen up Recoms," Vasquez announced, matching Quaritch's energy. Which you had noticed, was now glancing at you over his shoulder with a lazed stare. You quickly turned away, hating that all of their attention was on you now. Just great. "Those are your new medical officers," he gestured to both you and your counterpart, earning him a few whispers and hushed conversations between the Na'vi hybrids. The heavily tattooed individual grunted loudly, expressing a clear distaste at the fact.

You watched as the one with the camo cap began to chuckle before leaning over to the tattooed female with the mohawk, gossiping something into her ear. Your eyes narrowed at her, hoping to God they weren't talking shit about you. The male medic next to you semed quite nervous himself, almost glistening with a faint sheen of sweat whenever the light hit his complexion. Oh man... what a great start. "This here is Mr. Ryan," Vasquez said confidently and clamped a hand on his shoulder before pulling you to his side with a toothy grin, "And this is Miss (y/n). They're going to do a quick checkup on your vitals before we make land on Pandora. Their status reports will affect your mission. If you have any further questions regarding any of that, feel free to ask them. Good luck and have fun," he said before departing, giving you a two-finger salute before vanishing out the door.

For a moment, you wished he hadn't abandoned you so soon, but as you stood there, again with the hundred yard stare, you instantly began pulling out your clipboard, training your eyes on the papers rather than the giant soldiers around you. Quaritch cleared his throat before stepping forward, closing in on your proximity. The heat practically rolled off of him. Almost radioactive in a sense. "Right. Welcome to the crew," he said as a deep rumble of chuckles resonated within the hall. You flicked your attention back on them, seeing as their expressions turned from scrutiny to amusement. The one with the hat flicked his chin toward Ryan, "So you get to touch us all around?" Ryan nodded cautiously, "Yes, in a sense. We need to do some physical checkups to make sure your bodies haven't mutated or caught any diseases on the way here and-"

"So you're gonna be cupping my big blue balls, too?" he said, making an obscene gesture as the team burst out in synchronized laughter. Mr Ryan pursed his lips in frustration. You felt his pain, it was nearly palpable.

You were so not ready for this... "Shut your horny mouth, Ja!" one of the female recoms hollered, smacking him on the back of his head.

Judging by the 'joke', you came to the conclusion that they were full-blooded jarheads. You sighed before ticking something off your clipboard. "And what about her? Is she good with her small hands?" At this your eyebrows twitched before you began searching for the miscreant of this statement. Seeing as the one with the bandana had crooked a finger at you. "Man, she does look cute tho... tiny lil thing. What's good, mama?" their banter continued, slapping and fist bumping each other, having the time of their lives. What a fucking farce - you thought to yourself begrudgingly. The behavior reminded you of teenagers experiencing the surge of hormones for the first time. You couldn't believe Vasquez had vouched for their professionalism. Perhaps he was in on the joke as well. "Shut your pie holes. They're here to help, not entertain you, you fucking lowlifes. Treat'em with respect or I'll have your ass handed back to the infirmary, you get me?!" Quaritch's voice boomed, immediately silencing the lively chatter among his subordinates.

Looking over at the colonel, you saw his hardened, chiseled features directed toward you with an unreadable expression. His pointed ears were tucked back against his head as he issued you a small nod. You repaid him with the same respect and inclined your head in acknowledgment before moving on to your first patient. "Brown?" you said, louder than originally intended before you flicked your gaze around the room, searching for any response. "Steven Brown?" you repeated with a bit more clarity. The mohawk lady merely snorted with arms folded, watching you as you searched for your first victim. Suddenly a blue hand lifted, alerting you of your designated recom, seeing that he looked a little less grim and intimidating. Although equally large, he seemed a bit more approachable, in your eyes at least. With that being said, it wasn't exactly a joyride pushing and squeezing yourself through, as some of them actively made an effort of staying rooted to the spot, entertained at your slight struggle. You could have sworn hearing someone wolf whistle at you but you pushed those thoughts aside when you reached your destination.

He was slightly shorter than the rest, not that you could tell right away as he was seated on one of the benches slightly hunched over, his posture overly lax. Much like the others, he sported that classical short military haircut and fade. "Alright doc, whaddya got for me?" he drawled with a certain bite. You decided not to overanalyze everything, as you were already extremely nervous. You meanwhile scribbled down all of the data before setting the clipboard down, looking him in the eye. He remained there, sitting there in silence, monitoring you with a peculiar glint playing in his topaz irises. "Alright, Mr. Brown, could you please stretch out your right arm? I need to take some samples and check your haemogram if that is alright with you," you explained as you flashed him a polite smile while the convos in the background resumed.

Brown simply nodded and muttered a small 'sure thing' before complying with your wishes. Once he extended his appendage, you got a chance to examine it closely - realizing just how large and sinewy his arm was. The texture was interesting too, differing not much from human skin, save for the lack of arm hair. "Finding a vein shouldn't be a problem," you jest before pulling out a small device for blood sampling. It was not a syringe, but a highly advanced gadget that locked down on the skin cell before drawing a bit of blood. "Alright, just let me disinfect this real quick..." you continued before wiping the spot with a small disinfectant wipe, clearing it from any bacteria. The feeling of his skin was curious, smooth yet somehow rougher to the touch compared to human flesh. Pandora's rough climates had evolved them to become perfect survivors as even their skin was harder to penetrate. Brown tilted his head to the side, ears swiveling curiously when you placed the blood-letting machinery against the crook of his arm. A small pinch broke through his flesh, extracting only a few tiny droplets. "There we go, that's about it-" Before you could continue, however, you caught Brown sending you a mischievous wink. "Didn't hurt at all, doc."

"Got what ya need, Miss (y/n) or... did I get that right?" you felt blood rush to your cheeks, heating your face altogether. They were trying to rile you up on purpose now... "(Y/N) right, but just call me by my first name. No need for being formal," hoping it would somewhat diffuse the awkward tension between you and the recoms. However, things did not go as planned when Brown's brows lifted for a short moment before his ears rotated in your direction, more attentive than before. "Well good to know, (y/n), looking forward to working with ya," your breathing became heavy to his deliberate teasing as he allowed himself to lean forward. You nearly jumped at his sudden intrusion "So (y/n), what does my blood test say?" just then the analysis was completed, giving you a clear stats report on his bloodwork.

"So far so good... bloodwork looks normal. Cholesterol is in the green and.... well..." His face faltered a bit, "What?" "be sure to consume fewer sugary drinks or sweets but other than that, you're fine. Wouldn't want you to be the first adipose soldier on Pandora," his features continued to crack "You calling me fat, doc?" he said before warming up to a smirk. You leaned away from him to avoid his sudden boldness. "Nah, just reminding you to be on your best behavior if you want to keep up with the rest, alright?" Brown scoffed with a shake of his head as you took your clipboard with you, writing down all of the info as well as checking a few boxes. "I'll get back to you later, just need to do the same with.... uh.. Wainfleet?" you asked, squinting your eyes to spot someone a bit taller and a tad bit more athletic looking. He lacked hair, like some of the others as he wiggled his fingers at you flirtatiously, a crooked smile plastered on his lips. "The one and only," you grunted in affirmation, feeling some of the dread returning before you headed over.

A sudden ticklish sensation and force tugged at the crook of your knee, having you to stumble and nearly fall flat on your face. Walker clicked her tongue with a roll of her eyes, "Come on Kevin, leave the poor girl alone already!" Quaritch's nostrils flared when he caught Brown fucking with you. A move of his tail that hooked around your leg in order to trip you. "You better secure that shit, Brown before I clip that thing off, capiche?" He growled, causing Brown to stiffen immediately. Eventually, he lowered his head and ears ".... yes sir... sorry,"

You managed to calm your thundering heart as you eyeballed Brown with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. What an asshole. Is that how it was going to be all the time? Good lord... how much you began to regret signing up for this particular unit. "Mr. Wainfleet?" you said softly, approaching the man cautiously as he eyed you up and down with that same grin on his face.

"Call me Lyle, sweetums. Only my mother calls me Mr. Wainfleet. So.... here to check the goods? Or maybe even get a feel?" Lyle chuckled before flexing his built physique, making you watch his biceps bulge and swell. The action made your throat dry out like the Sahara desert. Just what in the world have you gotten yourself into...

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ape-apocalypse · 2 months

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Road To The Kingdom - Firestorm Tie-In Novel

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes: Firestorm is a prequel novel written by Greg Keyes for the second movie in the reboot trilogy. It takes place soon after the end of the first film, about a week after the apes escaped into the redwood forest beyond San Francisco and the Simian Flu began to cut through the human race. This novel is a fantastic bridge between Rise and Dawn, giving us more insight into characters we met in the first movie who will feature in the next, as well as fleshing out the fall of society.

The book does very well juggling between the two massive plots of Caesar's apes avoiding their human hunters and the Simian Flu tearing through the city. Though we don't see Will or any other humans we met in Rise, they give us many new human characters: a reporter trying to make the connection between the escaped apes and the new virus, an emergency room doctor dealing hands on with outbreak casualties, and an ape researcher and a former hunter who have been brought in by Gen-Sys to capture Caesar's group. While I thought I wouldn't care about the humans because the apes are always my favorite characters, all these humans in different locations and with different stories keep the story from dragging; I ended up enjoying the final days of humanity almost as much as Caesar's story. The book also gives us the first introduction to a human character who will become important in Dawn: Dreyfus, the leader of the human colony played by Gary Oldman. Going into the movie, his backstory isn't very clear other than he was in some position of power before the end and he lost his wife and children. But the book goes really deep into his story of a former police chief running for mayor and wanting to protect humans. Rereading the book in 2024, the parallels of the Simian Flu with the Covid outbreak definitely rings true (much like the YouTube shorts).

But no matter how good the human characters are, what I enjoyed most about this book was seeing Caesar and his escaped apes start to adapt to life in the wild. Even while they're being hounded by the humans chasing them, they have to figure out how to care for sick/injured apes and where to get food without humans to feed them. A great moment for Caesar is when he thinks to himself that he never thought beyond escaping from the human city; his realization that there is more to figure out than just dodging humans shows how he goes from accidental ringleader from the sanctuary to the wise authoritative leader of the apes of the next two films.

Though surprisingly, the true star of this book isn't Caesar; it's Koba. We get numerous detailed flashbacks of Koba's life before ending up in the Gen-Sys lab and receiving the brain enhancing drugs. From the death of his mother to being an abused TV star to arriving at the labs as a test ape. In the films, Koba's hatred of humans shines through and is unquestionable; you don't need the backstory to understand why he carries a grudge against all humanity. But reading the details really did break my heart. And getting his backstory revealed as he learns to work with other apes, as he proves his loyalty to Caesar by rescuing injured apes rather than wrecking vengeance on humans, you actually have hope that he could be happy now that he was free with other apes.

Another great part of the book is getting to see the very beginning of Caesar and Cornelia's courtship. Since one of my disappointments with the films are the forgotten female characters, I was glad to see Cornelia here, challenging Caesar's orders when it came to taking care of injured apes. Though her role is still small, I liked seeing her get a little time to flesh out her character.

Firestorm is officially labeled as a prequel (which is why I have it listed first as I'm trying to go in chronological storyline order), but I actually enjoyed reading it after seeing Dawn. While I think it can still be appreciated in any order, I liked getting to meet Koba in the movie and seeing him as a great complicated villain, before then learning his backstory and growing your sympathy for him, while also thinking about how tragic it is that he couldn't let go of his hate. Whatever order you decide to read them in, Firestorm by Greg Keyes is a wonderful expansion on the movies that I would label as required reading for fans for the expansive and enjoyable story it shares.

Intro / Previous / Next

#dawn of the planet of the apes #rise of the planet of the apes #planet of the apes #war of the planet of the apes #war for the planet of the apes #kingdom of the planet of the apes #reboot pota #pota #firestorm #novel #caesar #koba #prequel #greg keyes #andy serkis #mine #chimpanzee #chimp

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gabrielsbubblegumbitch · 19 days

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Charlie's corruption arc ✨😈

aka Broken Crown AU inspired by this post because I’ve been thinking about it intensively. So, I believe Charlie's villain arc would start with a great feeling of relief. Imagine: it's been a week since the final battle; it's been a week when Charlie hasn't been able to sleep at night. Others think she's still grieving, but the truth is different. Every night, Charlie cannot fall asleep because she's trying to cope with the relief she felt the second Adam died. She was the one who at first stopped Lucifer from finishing him, just because killing Adam didn't seem right. But when Niffty actually did it, despite everything, it felt right. It felt good.

After weeks (months?) of looking for a way to stop Adam from committing genocide against her people, after being bullied and humiliated by him, after witnessing how an unjust system enabled his despicable actions while ruthlessly punishing others for far lesser crimes, she finally, for the first time, felt like she had any agency. Just like that, her loved ones were finally safe. They could all breathe again, and all it took was a small act of violence against the person who fully deserved it. This realization changes her. While she doesn't intend to do such things in the future, she can no longer deny that exercising brutal power can be the best solution when dealing with certain kinds of people. This is the very first thing she hides from Vaggie. Not because she's scared of her judgment but because these ideas are so against her own moral values it is simply scary to put them into words.

Maybe I would be capable of killing someone in cold blood. Maybe I'll have to do it one day.

But Adam's dead, so they are safe, right? And she won't ever have to make a choice like that again. That's some reassurance.

And then, Niffty is killed by Lute. Just like that—Lute teleports to Hell by night and slaughters her in revenge because why wouldn't she? Who would have stopped her?

It obviously hits everyone hard—they just lost another friend. But Alastor? Alastor loses his fucking mind. He goes completely feral, yelling at Charlie and blaming her for everything.

What kind of incompetent fool shows their enemy mercy and lets them live long enough to get vengeance? I cannot believe I thought you could be a competent leader. You are just a fucking child. You are all a bunch of idiots.

Charlie goes through a complete meltdown because she knows he's right. If she had the guts to finish Lute or at least asked Vaggie or Lucifer to do so, Niffty would be alive. She's crying, choking on tears; she feels like a hopeless failure, but Alastor does not give her a break. He seems so infuriated she thinks he would kill her. Fortunately, Lucifer and Vaggie intervene. Lucifer puts Alastor back in his place by essentially beating the shit out of him. Vaggie takes Charlie out to calm her down. She insists that if it's anyone's fault, it's hers because she was the one who spared Lute, but Charlie knows that it's a lie. Vaggie would have killed Lute if not for Charlie's convictions. She fails, and she fails all over again, and it seems like she can't escape the evil. It's her responsibility to face it on equal terms. Otherwise, she won't be able to protect her loved ones.

After this incident, both Lucifer and Vaggie insist on kicking Alastor out of the hotel. He's too dangerous, too unpredictable. We can't allow him to treat you like this. We don't even need him anymore; there's nothing an Overlord can do that the King of Hell can't.

But that's not the truth. There's something Alastor can do that Lucifer can't: play the game. And now, grieving another of her friends, Charlie realizes she needs a teacher if she wants to stop pieces.

I have like 0 time to write the proper fic but I had to get these out of my system because holy shit I love coming up with elaborate plots I'm not able to execute. Maybe talking about it will somehow scratch the itch.

Also tagging @purrpleowl because she expresses her interest in this idea.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #charlie morningstar #vaggie #alastor #lute hazbin hotel #lute #lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #broken crown au #niffty

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bonefall · 1 year

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Better Bones Profile: Shredtail

[ID: A version of Shredtail from Warriors. He is a thick, spiky-furred, solid brown cat with prickly whiskers, a tattered white tail, and red scars. He is holding a spear with white and yellow twine.]

A guy whose mate and kits got eaten by a pig and he was VERY normal about it. He made a very normal weapon for the occasion. He normally hunted down a gigantic white boar for the rest of his life and revolutionized hog hunting in ThunderClan.

Shredtail didn't only target the grand boar Deadfrost; he aimed for any hog with a fleck of white on its body. If he would have no bloodline, then neither would it.

His obsessive quest for vengeance to kill Deadfrost eventually lead to him using a clanmate as bait to slaughter the beast. He died with his spear snapped and jammed in two places within the hog's hide, taking down his old foe with him.

Alignment: Dark Forest, ex-ThunderClan.

Time Period: Code Era

Relations: Unnamed mate, unnamed kits

His addition to the Dark Forest is Deadfrost's Hollow, a mazelike thicket where a giant white boar gives endless chase. With enough taunting, Deadfrost can break out of the hollow and terrorize the cats in the Dark Forest.

(more below the cut)

No more evil brown tabbies. Society has progressed passed the need for evil brown tabbies. Solid brown with white highlights.

Dark Forest cats need more types of motivations and new stories! Canon Shredtail has nothing written about him besides being very old, so I've decided to build something very relevant to Better Bones.

Shredtail was a huge innovator in hog hunting, and his techniques are still used to this day. He's only slightly younger than Cloudberry and Ryewhisker.

Traps, baiting, and spear-craft. Shredtail had a paw in creating or perfecting the creation of these things.

After leading his first successful boar hunt after the death of his family, he earned an Honor Title. His name went from Thornwhisker to Shredtail.

He is a highly valued member of Tigerstar's Dark Forest coalition, because of his innovative mind.

Shredtail was behind the technical plotting of Firestar's murder (but not the idea). It's nothing personal, but he wants Godhood just as much as his cohorts.

He's ruthless and dedicated. He believes strongly in the value of patience. His presence can be intense.

This is a warrior who is both huge and intelligent.

When asked about what he wants to do with godhood, his voice grows soft. "...I want to craft kittens."

The cross below the arrowhead is called a "lug." It's there to stop an impaled boar from pushing further down the shaft to get you. This was one of Shredtail's first improvements.

Yellow twine is for ThunderClan, white twine is for his mate.

The spear is something I'm going to refine the design of over time, this is a first draft.

Shredtail is based a little bit on Captain Ahab because I think that is very funny. The white boar, the obsession, the going down with it. Good stuff.

Today, weapons are typically only used for boars! Blades are considered a highly dishonorable battle tactic, and usually their claws are sharp enough to be as lethal as they want them to be. Shredtail tainted the association of spears forever.

He doesn't really do 'politics,' he just wants results and will work with anyone who can provide them.

So he doesn't care what Tigerstar actually wants or believes, if it means entry into StarClan.

#BB!Shredtail #Better Bones AU #Character Profile

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katmaatui · 9 months

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Hal Jordan Reading List

Hal Jordan is a man of many names and many legends. He was once the Green Lanterns' best and brightest. His name and legend is written into the stars. He fell, brilliantly and terribly. He rose again as the Spirit of Vengeance, the Spirit of Redemption! He returns in the end to his place among the Green Lanterns. But to truly know the man, you must read the stories.

Most important stories are bolded and my favorites are asterisked

Origin Stories

Some of these repeat, not all are necessary but I advise reading at least Emerald Dawn/Emerald Dawn II or Secret Origins or Showcase #22

Emerald Dawn (1990), first appearance of the Martin Jordan backstory

Emerald Dawn II (1991)*, Hal is trained by Sinestro for the first time

Secret Origins (Green Lantern (2005) #29-35), Geoff Johns’ version of Hal’s backstory if reading modern Hal stuff, its important

Showcase #22*, what actually started it all

Superman: Man of Steel Annual #4*, Hal meets Clark for the first time

Secret Origins (1986) #36, Hal retells his origin to a new friend (set post Action Comics (1938) #606)

One Shots

Green Lantern Secret Files (2004) #1 “Flight”, three flights in Hal Jordan’s life*

Justice League: The Darkseid War - Green Lantern #1, Hal becomes a God and gives it up*

Green Lantern 80th Anniversary, a tribute to the Green Lanterns across the ages* (Skip Geoff’s story. You’ll thank me. Four should be read after Hal Jordan and the Green Lantern Corps #35.)

Early Days

Green Lantern (1960) #6, first appearance of Tomar-Re*

Green Lantern (1960) #7, first appearance of Sinestro*

Green Lantern (1960) #8, introduction of the Solar Director of 5780 plot*

Green Lantern (1960) #9, second appearance of Sinestro + first appearance of Hal’s brothers*

Green Lantern (1960) #13, first team-up with The Flash (Barry Allen)

Green Lantern (1960) #16, first appearance of Star Sapphire

Green Lantern (1960) #26, second appearance of Star Sapphire

Green Lantern (1960) #30, first appearance of Katma Tui*

Green Lantern (1960) #36, Hal falls in love with an alien*

Green Lantern (1960) #45, Hal and Alan team up issue*

Green Lantern (1960) #49, Hal leaves Coast City

Wanderer

Green Lantern (1960) #51, conclusion of the Solar Director of 5871 arc

Green Lantern (1960) #53, family team up issue*

Green Lantern (1960) #57, an old enemy returns

Green Lantern (1960) #63, Hal saves the world from an alien who wants to destroy it*

Green Lantern (1960) #64, Hector Hammond returns*

Green Lantern (1960) #70, Hal gets a new job + first questioning of Guardians*

Green Lantern (1960) #73-74, Hal returns to Coast City and fights Sinestro and Star Sapphire* (note: there will be a panel that will make your jaw drop in how racist it is, there’s some good meat besides that panel but that panel…its bad)

Questioning and Politics

Green Lantern/Green Arrow

Green Lantern (1960) #76-#87, #89

The Flash (1959) backup stories: #217-#219, #226

Hal’s solo backups in The Flash (1959)

The Flash (1959) #220-#225

Space Exile and Return (I frankly rec reading all of Green Lantern (1960) #133 to #200, but these are the best issues out of it)

Green Lantern (1960) #149-150, 164-170, space exile!

Green Lantern (1960) #172, Hal gets to return to Earth

Green Lantern (1960) #181, Hal quits

Green Lantern (1960) #191-192, the Predator is revealed

Green Lantern Corps (1986) (might be under Green Lantern (1960) depending on website) #220-224, Sinestro is executed (warning, this is part of Englehart glc and thus includes small references to hal/arisia, that relationship is out of character for everyone involved and I don't support it, but these issues are otherwise good)

The Return

Action Comics (1938) #606 "The List", Hal reaches out and no one responds*

Green Arrow (1988) #20, Hal goes and helps Ollie once again*

Secret Origins (1986) #50, Hal and Ollie make up from their fight (last story, only)

At this point, Hal has been wandering and questioning for years. He’s a drifter, especially since the Guardians left the Universe to go make new Oans.

Green Lantern (1990) #1-8, the reintroduction of the Corps*

Green Lantern (1990) #25, Hal and Guy fight

Green Lantern: Ganthet’s Tale, Hal learns the Guardians have been lying to him

Parallax

Superman (1987) #80, the Destruction of Coast City

Green Lantern (1990) #46, Hal fights against Mongol and speaks of hearing voices*

Green Lantern (1990) #47, Hal and Ollie team up

Green Lantern (1990) #48-50, Emerald Twilight* (if you read one thing on this list read this)

Guy Gardner: Warrior (1994) #18-21, Guy learns about the destruction of Coast City + what Hal did

Zero Hour (1994) #4-0, Hal destroys time*

Green Lantern (1990) #0, Hal and Kyle finish their fight from Zero Hour*

Green Arrow (1988) #96, Hal meets Ollie once again*

Green Lantern (1990) #61-63, Hal attempts to get Kyle’s ring back

Final Night (1996) #1-4, Hal dies to save the universe

Parallax: Emerald Night (1996) #1, read between issues #3 and #4 of Final Night, Hal looks over his life

Green Lantern (1990) #99-106, Kyle travels through time and meets Hal Jordan, in the middle of his first fight with Sinestro. Young!Hal returns to the present with Kyle.* (Read Green Arrow (1988) #136 inbetween #104 and #105, One of my favorite arcs of all time. Please read it 🥺)

The Spectre

Day of Judgment (1999) #1-5, Hal becomes the Spectre

Day of Judgment: Secret Files #1, Hal gives others the way to kill him

Legends of the DC Universe #33-#36, Hal’s first mission as the Spectre*

Green Arrow (2001) #7, Hal reveals that he’s the reason why Ollie is alive*

The Spectre (2001) #1-27

Especially read

The Spectre (2001) #1

The Spectre (2001) #5, Hal and Carol reunite*

The Spectre (2001) #15-17, Spectre but in Space!

The Spectre (2001) #21-23, the return of Sinestro*

Geoff Johns era Hal

Green Lantern: Rebirth #1-6, Hal comes back to life

Green Lantern (2005) #7-8, Hal and Ollie get stuck in Hal’s version of their perfect world

Green Lantern (2005) #10-13, the lanterns Hal killed come back to life*

Green Lantern (2005) #14-17, Hal deals with his time as a POW and gets wanted in Russia*

Green Lantern (2005) #18-20, creation of the Star Sapphire corp (note; this is the most sexist set of issues I’ve ever had the misfortune of reading, I will tell you what happened if you want)

Green Lantern: Sinestro Corps War (You’ll be confused but the Hal portions are in Green Lantern (2005) #21-28)

Blackest Night (2009) #1-8, the dead return

Green Lantern (2005) #43-52, Green Lantern tie in to blackest night

War of the Green Lanterns, the 4 Earth GLS must become members of the other corps to save the Green Lanterns*

Green Lantern: Emerald Warriors #7

Green Lantern Vol. 4 #63

Green Lantern Vol. 4 #64

Green Lantern Corps Vol. 2 #58

Green Lantern: Emerald Warriors #8

Green Lantern Vol. 4 #65

Green Lantern Corps Vol. 2 #59

Green Lantern: Emerald Warriors #9

Green Lantern Vol. 4#66

Green Lantern Corps Vol. 2 #60

Green Lantern: Emerald Warriors #10

Green Lantern Vol. 4 #67

War of the Green Lanterns: Aftermath #1 (2011)

War of the Green Lanterns: Aftermath #2

N52

Green Lantern (2011) #1-20, Sinestro is a Green Lantern and Hal Jordan isn’t!* (Conclusion of Geoff Johns’ run, Actually one of my favorites especially issue 20)

Green Lantern (2011) #21-26, Annual #1, Hal is in charge of the GLC

Green Lantern (2011) #29, Hal tells Jim he can't come back to Earth

Green Lantern (2011) #41-46, Annual #4, Hal steals Krona’s gauntlet and becomes a Renegade Green Lantern*

Convergence: Zero Hour #1-2, Parallax Hal returns!*

Green Lantern (2011) #47-52, Renegade!Hal meets Parallax Hal*

Rebirth

Hal Jordan and the Green Lantern Corps: Rebirth #1, Hal makes his own Green Lantern ring*

Hal Jordan and the Green Lantern Corps #1-7, Hal fights the Yellow Lantern corps!

Hal Jordan and the Green Lantern Corps #8-12, Kyle helps revives Hal while Soranik and John try to work out the Sinestro Corps-Green Lantern Corps partnership

Hal Jordan and the Green Lantern Corps #14-17, Hal and Kyle attempt to revive the Blue Lantern Corps

You can read Prism of Time and Fracture (#18-#25) but also you can chew glass. So. Soranik is evil now and Tomar-Tu killed a Yellow Lantern from Xudar named Romat-Ru. Don’t read it, it took me three days to finish those issues at a point where I was reading more than 30 issues a day.

Hal Jordan and the Green Lantern Corps #30-31, Hal meets Parallax again, this time possessing Clark Kent*

Hal Jordan and the Green Lantern Corps #33-36, the Earth GLs work together to save the Guardians

Famous Quotes- “Four legs on a table, four walls on a house, and four seats in a mustang gt. We’re the four corpsmen. You don’t screw with what works.” (Hal Jordan and the Green Lantern Corps #35)

Hal Jordan and the Green Lantern Corps #37-41, Hal is captured by Zod*

Hal Jordan and the Green Lantern Corps #42-50: Rise of the Blackstars*

The Green Lantern (2018) #1-12, Morrison writes some very interesting Hal stories

Green Lantern: Blackstars #1-3, Hal creates a perfect world*

The Green Lantern Season Two (2020) #1-12, major stories include the multiversal Green Lanterns and Carol Jordan and Hal Ferris

Present

Green Lantern (2021) #1-12, more John and Jo focused but Hal has some fun moments.

Green Lantern (2023) is currently coming out.

#Hal Jordan #dcmultiverse #Reading List #Red's Work

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bunisher · 20 days

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frank castle, grief, corruption, choice, and the mess that is the punisher season 2

been having some thoughts, and in my opinion, the worst part about the punisher season 2 is that season 1 ends with this:

“You know as long as I was at war, I didn’t really think about what when it was over. I think that might the hardest part. The silence. The silence when the gunfire ends. How do you live in that? I guess that’s what you try to figure out, huh? That’s what you guys are doin’. You’re working on it. I respect that. I just… um… But when you’re gonna look at yourself, truly look in the mirror, you gotta—yeah, you gotta admit who you are, but not just to yourself, you gotta admit to everybody else. First time in long as I can remember, I don’t have a war to fight. I guess, if I’m gonna be honest, I just… I’m scared.”

….. and then they do absolutely nothing with it in season 2.

no, seriously, they do absolutely nothing with frank castle and his fear of sitting with the fact that he is alone, a widow, a childless father, with a new name and an entire life ahead of him. and i’m going to rant about it.

we leave S1 in group therapy. we pick up across the country, in michigan, in S2. he hooks up with a woman named beth while wearing his wedding ring on a chain next to his heart and getting ridden, playing house with her kid the next morning, and we as an audience are led to believe that frank castle, a man who daredevil rightly clocked a year ago as being unable to grieve, is able to do this with having no little to no difficult feelings. how much time has passed? not even two years. and then, while he is sitting at the bar, he finds another war to fight. as the season progresses he just decides after saying the above that this is who he is and who he has always been. he kills his ex best friend who could’ve helped him prevent everything and ships off the teenage girl he spent an entire season bonding with. he loses his one remaining friend and in the end, we see him tell madani that he’s already busy with his own stuff, and during none of that besides his talk with maria’s headstone does he reflect, despite them being his motivation for everything in S1.

except… he was thinking about after, and how he didn’t know how to have after. he was looking at himself in the mirror and fully admitting his fear to everyone. so what happened? frank was doing everything except trying to sitting in the grief, sit in the shit, and the silence. even him traveling is him doing something to distract himself, an act of avoidance, but it only serves as a plot device so that something else happens to him and he has to react. he’s just in the wrong place at the right time. the role of the punisher is again thrust upon him.

let me explain why i really feel this is due to the inability to write grief and why TPS2’s bad story and writing is a side effect of it. in every “superhero” movie in the mcu, death is simply a motivator for something, and they do it again in punisher season 2 after leaving us with the uncomfortableness that is the reality that vengeance will not solve grief. but instead of sitting with it, we have another death that desensitizes us as the audience once again and is used as a plot device. that’s literally how his and amy’s dynamic is introduced. he just reacts to everything around him, and yeah he could choose to not help, but he doesn’t. and as much as i love some gratuitous violence with punisher, damn would it have been to good to not just having something happening in his vicinity that causes him to react. to instead see the conscious choice of frank actively choosing to use his grief as something to continue his war until that’s all that he is, until it’s not even about his grief anymore.

his family’s death in the comics is framed as a tragedy even that just happens, and frank’s decision is to ignore the process of grieving, not go to the cops, and take matters into his own hands. by the time we meet frank in his first appearance, he isn’t even named. he is only known as punisher. the nmcu changes his origin into something that he has direct ties to, and similar but completely different to the comics, he ultimately, probably, could not have prevented their deaths because he didn’t have power or knowledge. it was him vs not only his former second family of the marines, but also the cia and elected officials such as reyes. yet, frank is the one who feels guilty and responsible, as if he could’ve prevented it, and we see this though his nightmares that people hate. to him, by just existing and his family choosing to love him, he feels he killed them. this is his own issue. he feels guilty for surviving when they did not, and chooses to stay alive in order to seek his revenge. this is the choice that leads him to cross paths with daredevil.

however, the context of the series in punisher season 1 also tries to go against the fact that it is not his fault and say that it actually is his fault, because frank is an unreliable narrator, and despite him being under the impression that what he was doing was completely legal and approved, he was somehow in the wrong and deserved to be punished for what an entire squad of people participated in. he even asked if it was and was lied to. and since he couldn’t have been behind the video because he was who pulled the trigger, the entire season drives into him taking accountability for what he perceives as his fault for his family’s deaths, and then because it wasn’t actually his fault, the government rewards him out of both fear and apology. and then what? we have no clue other than madani quitting and joining the cia with a chip on her shoulder because the report was changed so they could be protected. however, she still chooses to work for this system and uses her power in order to try and recruit frank, which he rejects because he does not want to do the pointing and shooting for someone else under orders like he did in operation cerberus and in war.

this is part of the problem. they don’t go into that and then proceed to refuse to go into grief or talk about who frank is besides that. the fatal flaw i believe mcu makes is that when they go with the idea of corruption, they also then proceed to place the issue onto individual characters. with DD S2&S3, we see that the ones who need to be put in prison are the ones enforcing it and getting away with crimes. schoonover is the blacksmith, reyes tried to kill frank in order to cover up her mistake, fisk uses the law to his advantage by manipulating people and holding leverage, by using his money as power. in TP S1 it is agent orange, who is revealed to be a part of the cia and comes from old money dating back to the first colonies in the usa, and he was funding cerberus with drugs, slipping right under homesec’s nose and when threatened with exposure, attempting to kill everyone to maintain his power. and while this theme of money and corruption is a good one, they fail to acknowledge that other characters like fisk or rawlins exist, and we as an audience have no idea about them simply because they’re not tied to our protagonists. just like reyes or the fbi agents or rawlins are tied to them, they are also characters that existed prior, and there are characters similar to them that exist after with no ties to them, or very loose ones that are still corrupt.

going back further, we see this with roxxon corp in daredevil S1. the old man with cancer who is fighting against the NDA who was being sued by the company because he shared information with his oncologist, and foggy is the one who suggests, “well he broke the contractual agreement.” matt on the other hand states that it isn’t okay, that maybe what the law says isn’t always right, that maybe they’re not fighting for the right side. but again there is this idea that it’s an individual problem instead of a systemic issue, and while they hold up a glaring light to it, ultimately the writers don’t really go into it. matt and foggy leave their old firm and then later matt and elektra fight the hand, killing the leaders, more individual characters.

and they do the same thing in TP, but worse because of how S2 is written as a follow-up. they ignore the corruption and ignore the grief. it would’ve been interesting to see a punisher who chooses to eliminate corruption like what was done to him in his fashion, aka, with a lot of murder. it would’ve been an interesting story for the first episode to show a frank castle who acknowledges his grief, acknowledges the silence, and basically says without saying that he can’t do that, that he’s making the choice to actively seek things out because he can’t handle the silence, because he is terrified of it. this would allow us as an audience get to see the lack of justification to others, that it’s wrong, that he is unleashing a war, but he justifies it because he nothing else to live for, and believes what he is doing is right since nobody else will and he has nothing else to lose. and it is, above all else, his choice to fight a war for innocent people that the law does not help.

we see in daredevil s2 that there are people who he effects (the boy who cries about his dad in the courtroom) and that not only does frank care about the impact he leaves to innocents, he does care about the lives of them as well. we see this TPS2 when he thinks he’s killed children, when he prioritizes saving the teen couple over killing billy at the carousel. these are morals that define what he does and serve as motivation for who his targets are, and they should be important. frank is a character in the comics that only maintains rapport with heroes because he cares about innocent people. he does not kill without reason. that’s how he maintains his status as an antihero. otherwise he wouldn’t be allowed to do what he does, he would be locked away by shield or the avengers or killed.

we see in certain issues that he goes after corrupt cops, politicians, high up enemies that think they’re safe because of money and power. nmcu tries to do this and then ends the series by killing gang members at the end of s2 after a whole story about corruption that couldn’t be solved any other way besides murder that was hidden by the govt. he started off killing the irish gang members and then ended with killing…? yeah. it only to put him back to where he started in s2 of daredevil. that’s right.

in my opinion, it falls flat because the whole thing ignores not only the source material (did y’all know amy is mentally disabled and her dad is a cop in the comics?) but also ignores what they did prior. all in order to lead to an underwhelming ending that could’ve left him in the same place as he was in season 1 if he had chose to keep going with his war. all of this is only part of the reason why the entirety of s2 doesn’t feel the same as s1. and it might be part of the reason frank sometimes hardly even feels like who we meet in that pawn shop in s2 of daredevil at times (ie: many people have pointed out him leaving That Guy in S2 was ooc and them going there was fairly pointless filler). we don’t have any character development or growth, and instead of him choosing to continue his cycle, he is more of a passive character besides his choice to go after people following the inciting incident. things happen and he reacts. he does not have an impact on the city at large or really outside of the people who are tied directly to him, situationally or by others. he does not become the lone wolf that he is foreshadowed to be after leaving micro and his family, he takes in amy for the entirety of the season, accepts curtis’ help despite it being reluctantly, and the only way his downward spiral is viewed is as someone who he has always been. he’s justified in his hunt for billy because it’s personal and frank’s mistake is seen as him leaving him alive, so again there’s this angle of guilt and the inability to grieve, but nothing is done. he unceremoniously kills billy and then everything is wrapped up. amy leaves, curtis leaves, frank is alone, and then he becomes all of the things we are supposed to think of him as off screen just so he can be brought back in DDBA.

so why even end that way in S1? why even have S2? idk. all i know is, i started S2 and stopped. i read up on it and know pretty much everything that happens, but it didn’t interest me then and doesn’t now. i worry a bit for how these topics are going to be written moving forward, and honestly i won’t even get into daredevil’s writing issues with grief, but i expect to see some form of loss in DDBA that’s brushed off either at the very end (like with elektra and father lantom) or at the beginning of the show so that there can be some action. because to prove my point, mcu was originally going to lead the show with foggy being killed off, pretending that karen doesn’t exist, and—what?

so, yeah. frank’s choice? that’s only a title of a song. corruption using money? it only matters in these instances and is not a problem in any other context. the law? the definition of good and moral and works for everyone. justice? will always prevail because everyone is equal under the law despite the amount of times we have seen otherwise. death? oh, it has to mean something and/or be a plot device for the protagonist. grief? doesn’t exist and can’t be shown on screen because it’s too real. i think mcu’s problem with this stuff is glaringly obvious in the storyline of punisher S2 despite the good set up of S1. i think it’s hinted towards in daredevil, not super bad in the defenders, but is pretty obvious if you look at mcu collectively. if you don’t believe me, here’s a video essay on catharsis and grief in regards to nwh that inspired this post. go give it some love if u can. it only has 3k views plus a couple hundred likes, but it is wonderfully made and helped put into words some things i wasn’t able to before.

#honestly i probably could write more but i definitely should not #/rant #frank castle #the punisher s2 #nmcu inspired #comics inspired #mcu inspired #nmcu daredevil #daredevil tv #the punisher #daredevil born again #ddba #ddba spoilers #grief writing #anti mcu #analysis #bun.txt

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