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#thats a threat i will be returning
b4kuch1n · 1 year
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wizard of the sky (again!!!!)
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prettyboykatsuki · 8 months
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In “HOW TO BE A DOG” (which I return to so so so often because it is so extremely beautifully, carefully written and I am in awe of your talent) does Gojo ever let her return to her career? How private is he about their relationship? Does she get to meet his side of the world?
i feel like i need to make an FAQ for htbad at some point because i get a lot of questions about this specific thing which i understand!! it doesn't bother me cause i get the curiosity but i left the end open so people could imagine whatever they like
in general gojo gives reader a lot of freedom(in a way) but he always tags a long with her. i don't know if he'd let reader keep working as a teacher forever (though i think its possible for a while), but since she can see curses i can see him forcing him to work w him at jujutsu high. she is very familiar with his side of the world as are his students and thats mostly because there gojo can parade her around with complete control and no one really questions it.
obviously no one knows that he is deeply insane and unhinged but a lot of people catch wind in the jujutsu world and sort of stand by. megumi + shoko are especially conscious but again, its not like they can't really do anything so they're nice to her in his place.
a lot of readers isolation comes from the fact she no longer has any real autonomy and she knows that. gojo will reward her for good behavior, so i think its possible for her to keep her job under the basis gojo doesn't think she'll try to go running her mouth etc but reader would def do just that given the chance. i think it'd take gojo some convincing that reader could behave but in all honesty i highly doubt she would want too
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scarlet-alleyway · 11 months
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the raph brainrot is real and ur fic is only fuelling mine 😭😭
FJAKSKALFJ WHAT????
HELLO????
ARE YOU KIDDING I- IM GONNA- Oh my god I think I'm actually losing mIND right now??? 😭💕
I can't believe this, I didn't even have time to answer your first ask and you BLESSED my eyes with this?? How are you so talented and how did you do this so quickly it's so clean and the colors and I- Seriously, I just paced around in circles with my hands clasped over my mouth before falling to the FLOOR. I can't believe this, this is insanely talented and I don't understand how my silly little fic deserves fanart like THIS???? auuugh my god my HEART??? ♥️
Absolutely sobbing over this, I can't take my eyes off it.
Forgive me if I take a hot minute to answer your first ask because this one has gripped my heart like a VICE and I need time to RECOVER ;-;
I'm rarely rendered speechless, but this is... Just WOW.
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anotherpapercut · 8 months
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in 1 hour I will have officially relinquished the $1,032.96 that the library took from me by firing me for handing in my 2 weeks notice and then telling me I could only have it if I waive all my legal rights o7
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collgeruledzebra · 1 year
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ok controversial take but it occurs to me that floyd is arguably one of the most rational characters in the odyssey series. like not to say he didn't make some real dick moves but they were never for the sake of being a dick there was usually solid reasoning involved
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clementineskesh · 2 years
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promise to myself: i will read in july
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oops-all-concrete · 4 months
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Okay, you lovelies voted for fluff, so you're getting fluff! Welcome to:
BG3 companions react to: Tav drawing the companions in their sketch book! (Romance implied)
Beware spoilers and cuteness ahead, please enjoy!
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Lae'zel -
Eventually she gets irritated of being stared at, while Tav is sat pencil in book and puts down her sword from being sharpened, and paces over. "Chk. You've been ogling at me like a child for at least ten minutes. Is it with purpose or are you simply bad at keeping to yourself?" She asks, head tilted with wide eyed threat. Once she gets a glance at the page, she softens, jaw unclenching, shoulders dropping. She admires the sketch before she realises she too, is staring. "Hmm. Acceptable. Continue" Before she returns to her tent, and totally doesn't stay stiller on purpose.
Shadowheart -
Shadowheart doesn't suspect a thing, until she passes by them and totally doesn't take a glance in the journal from over Tavs shoulder. She pauses and appreciates the work long enough for Tav to realise they're being watched. "Oh don't mind me. I'm just appreciating my good side from your point of view." She smiles. "Oh, we should draw each other! I haven't sketched in so long, but I'd like for you to see what I see too." She offers, going and grabbing her own sketch set, sitting beside Tav, comfortably drawing them.
Wyll -
He allows Tav their privacy, even if they stare sometimes. He needs to be physically shown because he is too polite to snoop or look over their shoulder. Upon being shown, he smiles, but winces a little. "Oh, I love it, don't get me wrong. You've captured the Blade of Frontiers in all his glory...just, all his glory with horns and the devil's details" He chuckles, trying not to seem dissappointed. But upon another look, his eyes become wider with wonder. "...you know what, if thats what I look like to you, it's not as bad as I thought." He smiles.
Karlach -
She's nosy, okay? So when Tav puts down their book to help Gale with dinner, she sneaks a little peek, grabbing the pages with a clean cloth. She however, gives herself away immediately. "WOAH??" The whole camp turns but Karlach does not take notice. "SOLDIER?? YOU DREW THIS?? THIS IS AMAZING!" She yells, eyes bright, brows up, grin wide with teeth. The camp settles while dinner happens, but later in the evening, she pulls Tav aside to show them something. Upon a large empty plot of just dirt, Tav finds their face messily drawn with a stick into the dirt. "Can't quite draw right now, or ever really, but I wanted you to have a portrait too. Not bad, eh?"
Gale -
"Oh, and who's that handsome fellow?" He smirks, catching sight of the page one day. He asks for a better look and takes a moment to admire the sketch, before frowning. "Did you...draw me with gray hairs? Am I graying??" He asks, a hand combing through his so well maintained mane. "You didn't know?" Astarion weighs in, finding an opportunity to bully the wizard. "For a human, you are at that age, are you not, Gale?" Lae'zel adds. The wizard makes an almost theatric gasp, crossing his arms. "Gray suits you Gale!" Karlach insists, taking the drawing from Gale and admiring it. Gale pauses, looks again, and grins. "Now that you mention it..."
Astarion -
"Okay, so, that's clearly not any of the imbeciles over there, what handsome young men have you been seeing without me?" He jokes. It takes a minute, but the way Tav looks between Astarion and the book, gives it away. "...oh. That's me?" He seems to entirely lose his ability to speak. He gestures to take the book and have a better look, running his hand over the sketches, and then over his face, seeming almost confused. When prompted, he clears his throat. "Well, it's- ah, certainly flattering. Nice to have such a flattering mirror" He smiles, slipping back into his more confident persona. "In fact, I'd love to keep such a flattering masterpiece, if that would be quite alright with you?" He smiles confidently, but the way his eyes stray to the sketch tells all.
Bonus! The older generation
Halsin -
"I cannot recall the last time I have received a portrait in such likeness." He smiles fondly when Tav shows him the piece. "Might I take this back to the Grove? I'm particularly fond of anything you do really- but especially this" He asks, warm smile spread over his face. Should Tav allow it, he gives the best hug in thanks, promising to return the flattery in kind. (Yes, it will be whittling)
Jaheira -
Of course she gets a look while Tav is distracted. "Not bad. Better that bard songs, that's for sure" She smiles, nodding at the adventurer. She takes a second look and thinks for a moment. "...When did my face get so wrinkly?" She asks in a vaguely dissapointed wonder.
Minsc -
"Oh, my friend, you have a talent of flattery!" He claps and grins when he sees the work, but seems to be looking for something. "Oh- Erm, might I ask a question...where is Boo? You cannot have the great Minsc without his tiny, fluffy brain on his shoulder!" He asks, proudly producing the hamster in hand. Tav turns the page to reveal quite a few sketches of Boo. "What?? Did Boo pose for these?? How is he so accurately cute?? BOO, YOU LOOK ADORABLE! WHY DID NOBODY TELL MINSC IT WAS PORTRAIT DAY??"
Thank you for reading! Let me know what you'd like to read next. I have another poll coming soon as well 👀
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neteyamsilly · 1 year
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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 5
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summary ;; What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? PART 4 | PART 6 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; jake is so depressing here. i also took liberty with his character and the reasonings for his decisions in atwow, sorry in case if thats not how you see him LMAO happy reading 💞 please excuse my mistakes if you see any! ‼ I DONT TAKE TAG REQUESTS ANYMORE ‼
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“One chance, Jakesuli. You will only have one chance. Use it well. Our Great Mother favors you, that we know. But this favor hasn’t been granted to you. It has been granted to my granddaughter.”
“I won’t fail.” Not again. 
“What does failing mean, I wonder. Would you fail if you take her soul back from her happiest? Or would you fail if you let her have the peace our Great Mother has laid her into?” 
“I will get my daughter back. This isn’t her time. If Eywa has given me this chance, then she thinks the same as me.”
“You will take that honor from her, then?” Mo’at was being cryptic, but Jake saw through the exterior of the neutral Tsahik into an exhausted, mourning grandmother. “She was the daughter of Toruk Makto, and he was her last shadow.”
It came back to Jake in a gut-churning realization, it was his shadow that had fallen over you from the light of the torches on the walls as you’d given your last breath. It was his shadow. “No,” he refused, adamantly. “She will get to achieve greater honors of her own than that. I won’t be the one defining her ending.” The last bead of your songcord having his name, Toruk Makto’s name, was supremely wrong to him. He would not accept this fate for you. 
“Very well, then.” Secretly, she was pleased with him. With his answer. “Get going. As I said. One chance.”  
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Jake would never be able to get used to the magnificence that was Vitraya Ramunong, or, the Tree of Souls. To him, Pandora itself was a marvel already too good to be true that he’d fallen in love with, and abandoned his own race for, there was no getting used to the beauty for a human like him who’d only found it once in neon lights, ever. He could reach the end of his natural lifespan in this body and still there would be much left to discover. That’s why Jake was more vulnerable to one of the beating hearts of Eywa in the shape of a giant, glowing willow tree. 
No Na’vi was immune to the soul-purifying, all-consuming, yet being-dwarfing peace enveloping one’s very spirit, in a cradling hug as if they were nothing but a newborn in their mother’s arms. In here, only one fact mattered: they were childrens of Eywa, all of them dear, all of them seen, all of them safe and sound, including him, once alien to Eywa the way Earth was related to Pandora. Everything spoke to him here in a language he didn’t understand, but could respond to, again, in a language he didn’t understand, his soul doing the communicating. 
Jake was also a child here, Eywa’s chosen child. 
And he had come to her door for the most difficult request of his life, feeling like he was asking his mother for money right after he had crashed their car, unable to look her in the eye and expecting the biggest of scoldings for his shamelessness. 
This was nothing like asking for her assistance against the sky people, back then, he had agency, power, the clans backing him up, Toruk. If Eywa didn’t hear him, he would fight until the last drop of blood in his body was spent anyway, he was ready.
Now, he had nothing. 
Nothing to offer in return, not one concrete reason as to why he should have his daughter back other than being a desperate father with nowhere to return to other than the mercy of the Great Mother. He just wanted his child. Nothing mattered. 
Not how and why Quaritch had spawned right under his nose with an avatar body, not how they could even slither in without detection, not the threat of what the sky people could bring upon their heads with that — nothing, not now. Nothing mattered until he saw this through. 
Jake had found the will to quite literally tear himself from your side like nail from flesh only when you’d stabilized enough. Stabilized, as in, the faintest rise and fall of your ribcage Neteyam had to stare from where he was sitting like a sentinel for a full minute to spot, a tideless, still ocean only moving with whiffs of wind, his own breathing unnoticeable — to match yours, or to silence the sounds in his own body to hear better, Jake didn’t know. 
No sky person was allowed to take over from Mo’at and Kiri. Norm had told Jake none of this made sense, if the bullet had nicked the bowels enough and the dirt leaked into the bloodstream, the possibility of sepsis was eventual, and if it didn’t, you had bled too much anyway, a blood transfusion was necessary, and the internal organs... — Christ, the amount of bad end scenarios Jake had been subjected to was as if they were telling him to open a grave for you anyway. Tsahik had scoffed into their faces. The way of healing was something none of them would see, she had scoffed. Now ally, or not. You can’t fill a cup that’s already full. Jake was in a hopeless need for water into wine kind of miracle, and honestly, he wasn’t complaining. 
Leaving High Camp behind to set off on a journey calling for only him was one of the hardest things he’d done yet, the silhouette of you lying motionless, his family scattered around the tent, shadowed in their own mourning, folded into themselves was burned into his mind, glimpses of their pain visible from eclipses of light occasionally falling on their faces. A sight he never wanted to see again in his life if he could help it. It was a frosted, iron-thorned hand squishing his heart into ground meat. 
Tuk, ever the stingy monopolizer, had brought her favorite toys to scatter around you because she thought they’d comfort you the way they comforted her, had tried snuggling with your unconscious body and was warned by Kiri only to hold your hand instead. She had taken to playing with your fingers, the depressive gloom of years beyond her age crooked on her. Jake couldn’t stand the sight of the little girl telling you bedtime stories he and Neytiri used to, for a moment only, he could pretend you were just going along with your sister’s whims and smiling with your eyes closed as you listened. 
Kiri, buzzing around to change the bandage-leaves that soaked up some sort of sickly black colored puss every couple hours, had explained to him the salve they used on you was getting the infection and the splinters of the bullet they couldn’t get out of your body, which had turned the color of your blood into that — but the thing was, given the dwelling of the woodsprite in your mouth, they couldn’t feed you the porridge-like mix to speed up the process of blood production in the bone marrow, and she was exerting herself looking for some other way. 
Before he’d left the tent for good, she had handed him the bullet— or, the biggest piece of it they’d taken out of your body, it was a mere pursed and shriveled, tiny metal. The exhausted girl had stammered when explaining that whatever they’d hit you with, had broken into shards inside you upon impact, creating severe lacerations and lethal hemorrhage that they’d worked tirelessly to pick out.
Jake had stared hollowly at it for the longest time. This small thing. It was such a small thing that took you from him. 
The sentence that sent you away was also as small, and damning as this bullet. ‘Go.’   
Kiri had seen it sink in his face, closing her five-fingered hand on his palm, on the bullet. “You should get going, dad,” she’d said. “We’re okay here.”
Jake had taken one last look. At Neytiri wiping your body to clean all the congealed blood. At Tuk holding your hand. At Kiri trying to fill in shoes bigger than her feet. At you lying down with trinkets surrounding you like funeral flowers. And forced his body to keep moving when all he wanted to do was stay. 
He’d then heard Lo’ak complaining to his older brother outside the tent, “How can he be so cold?” The heaviness was getting to the boy, agitated and misapprehending. But he was always this way, if something was out of his control, the inability to act to change it manifested as frustration, blind anger. “Why is he so… unresponsive? Emotionless?”
Jake would have let it slide had it been about something else, but his children running their mouths not knowing he was a hair's breadth away from going clinically insane had gotten to him. He was burning alive. 
“You think I don’t care, boy?” He emerged from the tent like some last boss, initially not caring he’d scared the brothers. “You think I don’t feel at all? My own child dying in the same arms I used to hold her as a baby — you think that doesn’t faze me?”
Neteyam, the mediator, or rather, the blame-taker, ran to his little brother’s rescue, the latter too flabbergasted to form any words yet. “Dad, he doesn’t mean—”
“I know exactly what he means.” When the anger subsided, Jake sighed with the weariness of an ancient man. The flames had died before they could climb, he was too exhausted for it. Honesty and trust, as Neytiri had said. 
Having lost everything, having nothing to lose, and having a lot to lose were somehow simultaneously the same thing to Jake in the predicament he’d found himself in. “I know how you see me. You only know me as the person I want to show you.” 
Lo’ak’s go-to answer was presented to Jake on a silver platter. “Sorry, sir.”
It wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all. Jake wasn’t trying to get Lo’ak to bow his head. “Don’t apologize—” He cut himself short, licking his chapped lips, and after rubbing his face, he’d put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Lo’ak. Son. I feel this, alright? Of course I do. I’m your father.” He shook him gently, feeling the words weren’t reaching him, who was just staring at something on the ground off to the side. “There’s no greater pain a parent can go through in life than losing his child. You can’t understand what this means right now—what it’s doing to me. You will only know when you become a father yourself.” He gently tapped Lo’ak on the chin so he would raise his head and look at him in the eye already. And when he did, Jake said what he said slowly, hoarsely. “But know this. Know I will lose myself if I lose you, or any of your siblings.” He turned to Neteyam as well, who was watching in full alert mode. “I’m fighting not to lose my sanity as we speak.”
Lo’ak swallowed, unsure and weirded out to hear something like this for the first time in his life. Jake didn’t blame him. He was never emotionally upfront or honest before, not even used to it, more awkward with it than his boys were. But none of that mattered. Not anymore, after what happened to you because of his shortcomings. “You just look so composed—“
“I have to be.” Jake shook his head, eyelids hanging heavy, his whole head was heavy. “I just can’t crumble under it, do you understand? I have to be strong. I can’t lose myself in it. Your sister needs me. You need me. To be strong.” He took his hands off the boy’s shoulders, putting a palm on his cheek and patting a few, fatherly times before backing off altogether. “Never say that I don’t care. Never. I might not show it—and it’s a father’s duty not to show it, so my family will have a stable anchor. Get what I’m saying?” 
Lo’ak looked reassured, lighter. So that’s what Neytiri had meant. “How… how can I help?”
His youngest son’s inclination to get to the root of the problem and pump out solutions was in consanguineous with his inability to stop and wait, uncomfortable in his skin when he couldn’t do anything to improve the situation and was confronted with the intimacy of having to feel, always wanting to act. Lo’ak was like Jake in that way. Awkward when it came to communication. Dishonest with themselves.  
“Stay here.” Jake said, right from his heart. “Stay safe. I don’t wish for anything else in this world.”
Lo’ak’s eyes softened, and as the father, Jake felt the renewal of the bond between them, saw the understanding in his youngest son, saw something else than the guilt and regret over being caught after mischief, for once. “I’m sorry, dad.”
“Don’t apologize.” He shared a meaningful look with him, trying to convey, again, his apology wasn’t what he wanted. Yet, his sons were defaulted to saying sorry half the time they spoke to him nowadays. Jake was understanding the severity of it, too much too late. Lo’ak nodded, ears tipped down slightly.
Then he turned to the eldest. “Neteyam—”
But he opened his mouth before Jake could say anything else. Ready. Always on his feet. “Yes, I will—”
Jake clicked his tongue. “Rest.”
Neteyam was about to say yes to whatever he was told to do, as always, but stopped right in the middle of it, voice catching in his throat, eyes blinking in confusion. “What?”
“Rest.” 
“But—”
“Rest, Neteyam, I won’t tell you again.”
God knows he needed it. Neteyam looked like he’d been having night terrors for days, accumulated anxiety making him jumpy. “Sorry, sir.”
“Stop—“ Jake caught himself before he could raise his voice. “Why are you apologizing?”
Neteyam didn’t talk for a while. But when he did, he was looking up at him underneath his lashes, unable to keep eye contact for more than two seconds. “It’s my fault.”
“Bro,” Lo’ak said, a pitiful objection.
Jake knew where this was going. “What is?” 
“I should have been there.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line before furrowing his brow, closing his eyes. Jake knew what he was seeing, repeated over and over again in his mind. “I should have known right away when I couldn’t catch up to her. I could have prevented it. It’s my responsibility.” One tear slipped by as he hung his head. “My fault.”
There it is.
Jake had told him before. “You’re the older brother, you gotta act like it.” — even though you and him were more like affable twins than older brother and younger sister that he never had to explicitly be a guardian to you like he was to Lo’ak, he had to be thinking this was his biggest failure. Neteyam was just reflecting what he’d been taught, the standards his father was holding him up to. Of course the boy had been overthinking it to the point where he was the catalyst to the event by not predicting your fakeout. 
“No,” Jake rasped, after a beat. “This is on me first, and the sky people who got to her second. And that’s the end of the story.”
Neteyam, up until this point, had to bear half the blame, if not the rest of it, for the consequences of his siblings’ actions. Upon receiving this kind of answer, he startled with an incredulous gasp and full stare at Jake. “But I—”
“It’s not about you, Neteyam,” Jake explained, although the words were harsh, he had done his best to soften the impact. “I did this. Blame me, okay?”
‘How could I?’ was written in neon letters over the boy’s head even if he didn’t say anything. Too good-natured. He idolized Jake a lot more than the man deserved. “Mother was… she was… She is grieving, she doesn’t mean it.”
“You gotta stop making excuses for people, boy. Especially when they’re in the right.” A smile pulled on his lips, but died as it was born. “I pushed and pushed until we reached the edge, thinking there was never an edge at all. I should have known better. I should have been better. This is between me and your sister, and that’s why it is me who has to go to the Tree of Souls.” 
And he’d left, but not before pulling his boys into his chest, cradling the back of their heads against himself, the smell of home repulsing instead of comforting. Prickles on his skin was the comfort he got from being able to hug his children when you were absent. It didn’t feel right. 
He missed you dearly, an aching, gaping hole in his very being that only grew larger as he saw what you left behind half-completed or messy like you’d stood up and gone off for a minute to come back to it later — 
The unmade pallet from the night of your Iknimaya argument that Jake had shed tears on when he’d seen the state of it, having the signs of someone getting up from it like you would be returning to go back to sleep any second.
The unfinished bark plate you had set aside to eat later and fought Lo’ak not to touch it. a squabble Jake had to break before you started wasting food by throwing it at each other. 
The stack of fruits you’d gathered that you never shared except for Neytiri sometimes. 
The half-carved cup you were working on because the regular cups weren’t big enough for your water needs and you didn’t like to refill it about three times until you were satisfied. 
The incomplete anklet you were making out of rainbow beads for Tuk that was confidential to everyone but Jake, who knew from observing you, of course — you were missing a couple colors that you just couldn’t seem to find, nagging his head off to just let you roam around farther and there was no danger as the sky people couldn’t get in the vortex.  
The little animal doodles you scratched at your side of the tent when you couldn’t sleep at nights, waking Jake up in the process every single time to listen until your breathing evened out as sleep retook you in its arms again, because he was bodily programmed to startle awake at one single rustle in his living quarters from his Marine days and fell into old habits after the return of the sky people, he knew you had developed insomnia from being uncomfortable at High Camp, longing for your hammock cocooned in the safety and comfort of the forest.
And the dumb romance novels you had taken from the humans that you, Kiri and Tuk giggled about at girl’s nights reading out loud, Spider invited as an honorary guest at times, just so you could tease Kiri about him and annoy your brothers that they weren’t allowed in, but the human boy was. 
All of them had no owner now. Neither of your family members could look at them, your ghost would appear in precious memories beside your belongings if they looked too much. He didn't need to concentrate for a phantom of you to appear, you were everywhere he looked, and even now, as the gently pulsating lavender humming, a song from Eywa herself, right underneath the veinlike, labyrinthine roots was the cool summer rain on Jake’s sizzling skin, all he could see was your first communion with Eywa in his arms while Neytiri formed the tsaheylu, the clan spread all around them in celebration. 
“You’ve called, and I’ve answered,” he greeted in positivity. “I think this is the most direct you’ve been with me in a long while.”
He didn’t know if it was Eywa or you he was saying this to. He genuinely didn’t know. 
Kneeling, and putting his arms on the mossy, thick root, he looked up to see the woodsprites swaying and floating in the air. He reached for his braid, letting the squirming nerve-endings coil around the white-cored lavender thread closest to him, taking in the presence of Eywa, all around yet nowhere at all, but listening. No sign of you. Was he supposed to talk like this? Just like this? Was he not allowed to see you? 
Jake had to admit he had been harboring the tiniest expectation of meeting you somehow, or hearing your voice through the connection like he did with a Tree of Voices when Mo’at had cryptically informed him of his chance. But this was it? 
If he failed, this would be it. 
“I guess this isn’t all that different,” he said out loud, instead of thinking inwards where the confusion flew. “It’s been like this for a while now, you and I. You talk, I don’t hear you. I talk, you don’t hear me. We throw the same ball at each other only for it to bounce back. Monologuing to a tree is the same thing, except it doesn’t talk back like you do.” 
He looked up and around, there was nothing else to do. The air was the same as it always was in here. Always accommodating to what each Na’vi found comforting. “The last time I came here like this was to ask for Eywa’s help in the last stand against sky people. I told her I would fight either way, I knew that’s why she’d chosen me. All my life, all I’ve done was fight. Even when I wasn’t able to, I was fighting lesser battles with the excuse of not having anything to fight for. It’s all I’ve known. All I’ve ever done. It’s what I was best at.” His brow twitched, and Jake tried to keep his composure, not because he didn’t want anybody to see, no, it was to keep his shit together so he didn’t fuck this up. He had to be honest. His pride was the last thing he needed in his way at the moment. 
“You were born to a different man. To a changed man. To a father who could let go because he thought his family was safe. You got to meet the man I used to be when my reason for fighting came back from my star. I know you don’t like that person — you can’t — couldn’t get used to him. I know.” 
From the discomfort, his fingers dug into the moss first, and found the bark of the root, his fist curling on it next. “But I had to keep fighting.” He softly brought his fist back on the root. “The strong prey on the weak, that’s just how things are. That’s how I had it on my star. And my kids — you, you are weak, and it’s not an insult — it’s not me criticizing, Jesus, you are just children, and there’s a war on your damn heads. That’s what I mean. That’s what I’ve always meant. It’s natural that you are weak, Eywa was kind enough to let you be soft. Not Earth, though, never Earth.” 
Jake had to clench his teeth and bite the anger into the inside of his mouth to not be boiled alive — not to let it reach to your side. He let out a soundless snarl. “You would never be ready for the cruelty of Earth, I would never wish that upon any of you. But it was brought to you. Right at your doorstep. I couldn’t protect you from it by hugs and kisses. You wouldn’t be safe from a gun extended to you by extending a branch in return. No.” 
He reached and caressed the glowing thread, brows furrowed. “I did what I thought was right to prepare you. Every single one of you. I was making you tough. I had to. To protect you. And of course there would be clashing along the way, it’s what happens between parent and child. We fight. We fight like cats and dogs for dominance. You try me to show strength. I stand my ground to let you know you gotta do better.” 
He had fired those sentences with incoherent speed, and when he got to the end of it, Jake got choked up. Stopped for a moment, took a breath. Blinking several times, his tone became vulnerable, he didn’t have anyone in front of him, but he tore away his gaze anyway. “Somewhere along the way, things just… Without me noticing, everything…” He sighed through his nose, his voice nothing but a whisper. “I fought more battles than I fought for my family. I thought I was doing my job as a father when I didn’t even know shit about being a father.” 
A couple seconds floated by, and his gaze was stolen by a lone woodsprite descending down until it staggered on the fist he had against the root. The shine of it reflected from the mistiness of his eyes. His lower lip slightly trembled at the thought of it being you. This little woodsprite. You? 
“The thing is, I’m lost, sweetheart,” he admitted quietly, small, shaky, not taking his eyes off the woodsprite. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I sit here, I look back, and think why I keep fighting. We could have migrated. Looked for a new Hometree. Another forest. Left the humans alone. Or made peace. A treaty. Something. None of your lives had to be sullied by war. Yet I chose this. I chose to fight, as I ‘ve always done, because now I had something to fight for. And the fighting wasn’t limited to them, I fought Neteyam, I fought Lo’ak, I fought you, my own kids, and I didn’t even know.” 
He reached for it with his other hand, tentatively, scared that it would fly away with the slightest contact. But he was able to touch the top of the woodsprite ever so slightly, the little zap making all the hair on his body stand up. Jake swallowed thickly, his whole head on fire. “I don’t know what to do. I just miss you. I miss you so much, sweet girl. I wish you would scream at me. Say you hate me for all I care. Anything. Hate me until the day you die, but do it with all of your family surrounding you in old age, in peace. I would be content knowing you are under the same sky as me. But I’m forgetting your voice already, and I—” He held back a violent sob, hissed to not let it out, and groaned, getting angry at himself for the emotions. He shut his eyes tightly, willing away the tears. “I wish I could say these to your face. I wish I could see you one last time, smiling at me.”
Having everything to lose. Having lost everything. Having nothing to lose. Three different meanings had coiled around each other like snakes to become one singular outcome in linear relation of cause-and-effect through you. It wasn’t a cycle.
Having something to fight for. Having nothing left to fight for. Having nothing to fight for. You were everything. Everything. What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? 
“I see you.”
The voice — your voice, albeit much, much younger, almost made him jump. When his eyes shot open, Jake was in a different location. He knew this place. The creek away from the village he and his family often frequented. 
The twilight penumbra of the eclipse dimmed the shadows embracing the forest, but the ethereally glowing lights of all colors illuminated and got reflected from the water as if it was a mirror. Above and all around him were lazily dancing fireflies — or, rather, bioluminescent bugs he didn’t know the names of, tiny stars floating in the air like glitter. It was magical.
Jake realized with aching melancholy that this was the first time he’d taken you out on an eclipse to show you the beauty of the forest on a special father-daughter date. The exact memory.  
The breath that left him was shaky as he felt the presence sitting right beside him, in the corner of his vision, he saw the ripples on the shining water made by swinging legs. 
Jake froze for a second. Unmoving. Not looking at all — because if this was a dream, or a hallucination, he wouldn’t be able to bear it. His breathing got louder, more labored, the log underneath his hands was so realistically textured and damp. If he looked. If he looked, you would disappear. That’s how he felt. 
He was supposed to talk. But now, his ribcage was holding the words hostage, burning with the strain of the pile-up. 
“But I’m sad you don’t see me,” you said, and he was shaken by hearing your voice yet again, remembering the moment he found himself here, how he’d heard — ‘I see you’. “You don’t even want to look at me.”
So much hurt and vulnerability in that sentence that it left him breathless. 
It all happened in a matter of seconds. Him launched into his own turmoil racking his brain about how Quaritch was back as an avatar, ignoring to look at you to protect his composure and just trying to think, think — think, of a plan, of a how, of what to do. You calling after him once Neytiri, you and he arrived at High Camp after dodging Quaritch’s men. Him purposefully walking away because he needed to cool off and not to explode on you right there and there.  
That whole time, Jake hadn’t looked at you. If he did, he would have seen you needed help.
He shattered, all of his walls crumbling down, stripped down to bare despair. 
“Oh sweetheart.” Before he knew it, he had wrapped his arms around you in a crushing hug, basically snatching you off from where you were sitting and on his lap, and your warmth, your pulse, your tangible existence wrenched a shiver out of him — and he buried his face to the little crook of your neck, taking your scent in, hiding his trembling face and the quiver of his arms by holding you tight. You were here. As your younger self, no older than eight, but he had you. Not bloody and battered in his arms, but alive, so alive. “Oh sweet girl, my sweet girl… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He kissed the side of your head, felt the real tickle of your hair against his face, blessed with the soothe of his child’s smell. “I see you. Of course I see you. I’ve always seen you.” 
The snowflake-frail snivel followed by your sobbing sniffle broke his heart into pieces. “You’re a liar.” He shook his head, hugging you tighter. “You’re mean to me. You’re so mean to me.”
“I’m sorry.” That was all he could say. All he could do with his thrashing soul smoldering at the wetness of your tears on his shoulder. “I am mean. I’m sorry… You’re right, I’m sorry.” 
“It hurt so much.” You wailed. “It hurt a lot.” 
Jake began to caress your head with an awkward, clumsy, panicked hand, disturbed as to if you meant the moment of your death — at him pressing on the wound with all he had to stop the bleeding, or he and your strained relationship in general. “I know, sweetheart,” he said anyway, a stone clogging his throat. He didn’t try to explain, or tell you why, didn’t argue that it wasn’t what he meant to do. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He had you in his arms. “I know. I know.” 
You wouldn’t get to be younger than this. And maybe, he would never get to see you be older, either. The thought crumpled his face like some piece of paper. Jake just wanted to hold you. And when you wrapped your little arms around him too, freely crying in his arms, a couple tears escaped his eyes as well, he didn’t know what kind of face he was making, perhaps it was better that you didn’t see him crumble. 
In the middle of it somewhere, he realized that you were younger because it was your inner child that needed this, she was more honest — more open with Jake. It caused him to sway with you back and forth, ribcage hurting with each breath. And you let it all out, clinging to him. 
“I love you, always,” he whispered, watching the bioluminescent bugs, when you were calmer and had fallen silent on his chest, not wanting to let him go and just listening to his heartbeat. “Even if I don’t show it — especially when I don’t show it. You are loved, my sweet girl, more than you know. More than you’ll ever know. More than I can show.” He looked down at the top of your head, agonized. “But I want to try. I want to show you more, moving forward.”
Knowing what he was insinuating, “But it’s nice here,” you said, voice thick and coarse from crying. You still didn’t pull back to look at him. Both of you, from the start of this, never looked at one another. Not once. Embarrassed and shameful to be honest, Jake thought. That pride you two shared. “You’re not mean to me here.”
But he needed to see you. You needed to be seen. So, as gently as he could, he unwrapped your arms around him, and took your baby cheeks in his hands, and looked you in the eyes. Another tear slipped from him. “You been listenin’ to me, right sweetheart? From the start?” You nodded adorably. You wouldn’t have said oel ngati kameie and accepted to let him see you if you hadn’t felt his true intentions and heart through him pouring it all out at the Tree of Souls. “I’m hiding a lot of things. But I want to be open with you. You wanna know the secret why I’m… mean?” You nodded again, more reluctant this time. “It’s because I’m scared.”
You gasped, genuinely lost and shocked, and he tried not to smile at the purity, the innocence. “You? You’re scared?”
“All the damn time,” he whispered, landing a kiss on your temple, his opposite thumb tracing a loving line on your other temple. “Every day. Every night.”
“But you’re Toruk Makto. You’re never scared.”
“I’m also a dad,” he said sorrowfully, as if he was giving out a secret. “And it’s precisely why I’m scared. I’m scared for you. For your siblings. Of losing you. It turns into anger. Anger turns into irreparable damage. Things I can’t take back.”
In the blink of an eye, you were back to your real age. For some reason he couldn’t quite grasp, you had shed the exterior of your childhood. But he didn’t mind, didn’t let you off his lap. 
“Don’t be scared, I’m here,” you said, putting your own small palm on his cheek, upset by the fact that he was feeling like that in the first place rather than whatever explanation he had. Your response was also childish, but he leaned into your touch anyway, comforted regardless, even if you were already gone — for this moment, he could ignore that no, you weren’t here at all. “If you told us, we would have been more careful not to make you sad.” 
Ah, he was being lectured on communication by his kid. It had a certain flavor of humbleness to it. Jake adored it nonetheless. “I know,” he said, “I’m sorry. I won’t be mean anymore.”
“That’s a lie.”
Jake couldn’t stop the laugh, though it was tottering. “Yeah, it is. But I promise you that I’ll never hurt you again.”
“That’s a lie too. Wasn’t it you who said not to make promises you can’t keep?”
“Alright, smartypants, let me rephrase it then,” the little glimpses of your brash self made him happy. “I will never intentionally hurt you, and if I end up doing so, unknowingly, I will always make it up to you. No exceptions.” 
You were acting uninterested, but stole intrigued glances at him. “How are you gonna make it up to me?”
“I’ll let you choose, how does that sound?” Jake tapped your nose. “In return, if I don’t know and haven’t taken the first step, you’ll have to tell me outright what I did.”
You deadpanned. “But I always do.”
“No, you don’t.” He raised one of his eyebrows. “You become passive-aggressive when you’re annoyed and pick fights with me.”
“That’s not—”
“Sweetheart.” 
“Okay, fine.” You huffed. The normalcy had made him forget just what he was doing here. “But you get angry.”
“What I get angry at is—” He cut himself off with a tongue click. “Not important. I do get angry. But at sincere honesty, us just talking it out, I could never get angry at that. Is the difference clear?”
“I think it is.” You were apprehensive about something, your fingers on his neck flexing as if you wanted to pull them back and break the hug. “But you have to promise.”
“I promise.” And then, Jake remembered, a new fire hardening his face, not in anger, but determination. “And speaking of which. I would never. Ever. Not in a million years would get angry or blame you for getting hurt to that degree — for others, humans, avatars, whoever and whatever the hell they are, hurting you, I could never get mad at you for it. Do you understand me? Your safety is the most important to me. I could never hate you for it.” His voice dropped down to a softer, gentler tone just above a whisper. “There is nothing in this world that’ll make me hate you. Nothing. I will love you through the most heinous crimes and in inexcusable deeds, you will find forgiveness in me even if there’s nobody left, that’s a father’s heart. Forever and always, I am with you.” He touched his forehead, and then yours. “I see you.”
You avoided eye contact. 
Ah, yes, the famous emotional awkwardness. He was sort of aware his feelings had reached you, you just didn’t know what to say. Jake hadn’t been like this with you for the longest time. So, he decided to make you more comfortable. “Yes I will get mad at you for breaking curfew, and yes, we might stop talking for a while and beef about the dumbest things if the fight is too intense — but always, always come to me when something is wrong. I will drop everything without hesitation.” He leaned in a bit to catch your wayward stare. “Got it?”
You murmured. “Okay.”
“Are we clear?”
You murmured once more. “Yeah.”
“Repeat it, then.”
There was something between cringing and unwillingness on your face, but at his pointed look, you sighed, giving in. “Always come to you if something’s wrong even if we’re fighting.”
“That’s right,” he affirmed, encouraging to let you know this wasn’t embarrassing. “What else?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Dad will always love you.” He nudged you, noting the flick of your ears in happiness when he’d said it. “Come on, say it.”
You didn’t look at him when you said it, but your voice was light. “Dad will always love me…”
“Dad will never hate you.”
Sheepishness took over, making Jake smile. “Dad will never hate me.”
“And. Come talk to me about it if I’ve ever hurt you without noticing so I can make it up to you.”
“Always go to you if I’m hurt and you’re unaware of it.”
“That’s right,” in this form as well, he gave your temple another kiss, heart soaring at your beautiful smile he had been dying to see. “Good girl.”
“You’re giving me a lot of power.” 
“Nothing my mighty hunter can’t handle.” 
The smile on your face died down. It came to Jake right away what had gone wrong. “Sweetheart—” “I didn’t mean that. You know—” But you didn’t know. Jake had to stop trying to make it easier on himself. “I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you. About everything. About the ikran, I’m so goddamn proud. I said it, and I can’t take that back, I was angry and I was trying reverse psychology — you know what, it doesn’t matter. But you are my mighty hunter. Will always be.”
You got confident a bit, but were still testing the waters. “Well I proved I am.”
“Yes, you did,” he rejoiced, no rejection or doubt whatsoever. “Message received, Lima Charlie.”
You giggled freely, joyfully at the recognition, and Jake ached again remembering how much he’d missed that carefree, precious thing, he swore pixie dust was in it. You slipped from his lap to sit crossed-legged beside him, and he instantly missed being able to hold you close. “Wish you were there to see me.”
“Me too, sweet girl.” Your Iknimaya was a disaster. A long-passed, sacred tradition broken wasn’t as important to him as it was to Neytiri — but he knew she longed to see you complete it, by your side, as eagerly as he did. And you had been alone in your pride, when he knew from a very young age, you had been the most excited for it. Everything had been ruined and there was nothing he could do to undo it. “Will you tell me about it?”
The phantom of pensiveness on his face hadn’t quite registered with you yet, getting excited to tell him all about it like nothing had happened the moment you knew Jake wanted to know. As if you weren’t dead. As if nothing was wrong. “Well first of all, I broke Neteyam’s record.”
A mournful smile tugged on his lips. “Did you now?”
“Hell yeah!” You started gesturing with your arms. “It took, like, two minutes? One minute? Too easy.”
“You know easy means the ikran didn’t give you much of a fight, right?”
“Or, or.” One finger was raised up at him to raise another option. “I was too skilled.” 
“The ikran might have been meh about you.” Jake teased. “You sure it chose you? Or did you just chase it down and it was stuck with you?”
“That’s so wrong!” He threw his head back to laugh at your outburst. “He was watching me get there the whole time! Like, from the start. His eye was on me, I just know it. You’re just jealous you didn’t get Bob like I got Jack. I was badass.”
That made him pause. “Jack?”
“Yeah, his name’s Jack.”
He couldn’t imagine Neytiri’s reaction to the blandest name imaginable, oh god. “Why?”
“Named him after you.” You tipped your head at him, raising your brows. “It’s healing, you know. He listens to me without questioning. He’s also very sweet. Unlike a certain someone.” 
“Oh you little shit—” 
“I didn’t say anything.” Raising your hands in defense first, you crossed your arms on your chest next. “Certain someone can mean anyone. It can mean Lo’jack—”
“Lo’jack, really? Really?” Jake half-snorted, half-scoffed. “This a new one after Lovak?”
“Jackiri—”
“Jackiri is pretty sweet, c’mon now,” he gave a blank stare. “Hope you’re not gonna say Jackeyam.”
“Jacktirey?” You asked, undecided. “She’s an anklebiter.”
“Oh, for sure.” 
“Could be Jack the Ripper, Bojack Horseman, Jack-in-a-box. Jack-o-lantern.”
“All people, of course.”
“Yeah, all people.” You snapped your fingers in mock-remembrance. “Hit the road Jack.” 
“Oh wow, even him?” Jake lowered his voice, leaning towards you, mocking astonishment. “Legendary figure, that guy.”
“Jack of All Trades.”
“Well, that ikran really seems to be one to me.”
“I know, right?” You stopped, and he saw that thought process, and before he could open his mouth, you blurted it out. “Unlike a certain someone I know.”
“You punk.” Jake pushed you lightly by your shoulder. “You’re pushin’ it.”
You smiled with all your teeth at him, with hands on your calves, leaning down to act cute, and Jake could pretend this was normal. That he’d fixed everything. And all was right in the world now that you were laughing with him — he’d made you smile. . 
But suddenly you looked scared, looking at something over his shoulder, shrunken pupils focusing on him and whatever it was rapidly. It kicked him awake from his delusion. He tensed, tail jumping upwards, straight as a rod. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”
Your breath hitched, and the next thing he knew, you had pushed him away, and he was falling towards the water. The last thing he saw was only a blur of you — the bioluminescent bugs became shooting stars with a thread of glow left behind them, the whole world tilted, but he didn’t hit the water, instead, he rolled down the small slope he had to climb to reach the tree. 
Disoriented, he saw the root was almost split in half — bullet marks, a cloud of splinters and debris was flying around where he used to be sitting. 
A lone avatar just ahead. Having made it all the way to the Tree of Souls. He didn’t know where this man had come from. 
Heart picking up and roaring in his ears, all Jake could think about was, One chance. 
He hadn’t even spoken to you properly yet, hadn’t said all the things he wanted to, hadn't even gotten your word, and this man — this son of a bitch — humans had taken you once again. 
Once again. 
You will only have one chance. 
“Lucky asshole,” the man looked at him behind the barrel of the long assault rifle. “Gonna make you pay for what you pulled yesterday.”
Your ethereal smile going up in smokes at the back of his head, Jake saw red.  
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dbzkaka · 2 months
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I literally dont know how to continue explaining to people that part of the reason Goku decided to stay dead was because Gohan hated fighting.
He didnt know this until cell. He literally had no idea. Gohan NEVER gave any indication whatsoever. Couple that with the fact Bulma pointed out most of people threatening the Earth during that point in time were all people wanting Goku. The saiyans. Frieza. The androids. Doctor Gero. Cell.
All because of Goku. Its not his fault but his very existence consistently put the Earth in danger. He truly believed Earth would be safer without him and therefore, gohan wouldnt be consistently placed into battle.
Because Goku didnt know gohan hated fighting. But once he knew came the very interwoven nature of these threats he brought making his own son fight because gohan felt he HAD to. Not because he wanted to. For goku, protecting the earth always aligned with his own love for fighting. But gohan fought out of necessity, out of the very idea that they couldnt afford to do it without him. He has this power he didnt ask for so he must use it right? Because it would be selfish if he didnt.
But goku... goku thought gohan was like him. Gohan WANTED to return to help fight vegeta. He WANTED to go to namek. He WANTED to stay and fight after piccolo almost died to frieza. Goku didnt see gohan train that first year. Didnt witness what it took to make gohan a fighter. All he saw was his son who now was strong and wanted to join the fight like his dad. And he knows gohan is more powerful than them, knows he can stop cell, FELT IT. Gohan has to defeat cell because no one else can. So he thinks if gohan gets angry enough fighting cell, itll be the answer. Because thats how its always been for goku. And in thirty seconds piccolo makes him realize he's wrong. He doesnt argue back, he listens and concedes and realizes that piccolo is right. And suddenly goku wants to abandon his plan and stop the fight. He made a mistake. He intends to get gohan out. And in the end, he still ended up being right, but it doesnt change what goku now knows. Gohan isnt like him and he doesnt enjoy fighting.
Goku would have NEVER made gohan fight if he thought he didnt want to. You know this whenever adult gohan gets involved in a fight and goku apologizes that he had to. Or when someone suggests gohan for a battle and goku is like nah he's "out of practice," even when they have time FOR PRACTICE. He never wants to force gohan into a situation like cell again. Because cell was a mistake and goku has learned from it. So he never asks Gohan to fight anymore. If Gohan wants in then of course he's in. But he wants his son to be able to choose that. He wants gohan to be HAPPY and if thats not fighting then thats perfectly alright with goku.
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So it wasnt just about keeping the earth safe. Or his friends. It was knowing that in the safety of gokus absence, gohan wouldnt have to fight either. There would be less threats, less chances of his son being forced into battle. And sure he also trusted that gohan and the others could keep the earth safe if they had to, but he was banking on the threat level significantly decreasing instead.
And decrease it did. They had seven whole years of peace. Not a single threat. Meanwhile from the moment Raditz shows up to gokus death to cell, it all takes place within the span of FIVE YEARS. The longest they went without a threat was the three year gap spent training for the androids. And they spent every waking moment knowing they were coming.
And then if you look at trunks future... majority of the human population being wiped out by the androids. Majority of gokus friends. His son. All dead. Because of him. Because he defeated the red ribbon army when he was a child. And that very easily could have been their future as well. So Goku does his job in preventing that. He saves all of them. And if hes the only one who ends up dead, well... it doesnt matter. Because they aren't. And he intends to keep it that way. So he stays in otherworld, to keep them safe and to give his son a future that he can choose. If Gohan has to fight, then he can. But at least his father wouldnt be the one bringing the threats to his door.
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mournings-stars · 3 months
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so lute and velvette… opinions on what they would like to receive as gifts? 👀
OHHH OK i got carried away and did how theyd react to gifts but trust i followed the prompt at first
so lute doesn’t like gifts (this is a lie). if you get her anything she’ll just throw it away (she will treasure that shit til the day she dies). just dont get her a work-related gift and she’ll love it forever
velvette on the other hand loves gifts — she expects them and you know it’d be a death wish to get her anything related to her work — even if its shallow, she’d rather have that because something work related feels undermining
say you get lute flowers? she’ll appreciate them in private because no one ever gets her anything, and she doesn’t know when she’ll get a spontaneous “they made me think of you” gift again
get velvette flowers? that woman is expecting flowers with every gift you give her because flowers can’t be a gift again silly, now they’re just common courtesy
but don’t worry, velvette is gushing about you all over social media because you meet her expectations so well — she posts things like “never settle for less” and its more and more every time
lute is discreet about her fawning. rather than broadcasting her appreciation, she’ll find herself staring at the flowers she’s been keeping healthy with fresh trims and water whenever it was needed and thinking she should probably do something to show her gratitude — so that you weren’t just giving her something unwarranted ofc. not because she wanted you to start giving each other gifts
of course that would be exactly what happens
i don’t think velvette would put too much effort into getting you a gift, like shes not thinking about what you might like in return or anything, but if she sees something you’ll like?? (and she knows what you like) best believe she’s getting that no mater the price
and vel is not the type to take off price tags. not because she wants you to feel bad about her spending so much money, but because she wants you and everyone else to know that she’s going to do everything possible to keep you happy, so that price tag going on her story with a casual “anything for my baby”, is 1000% percent a threat to the world
i have half a mind to think she makes sure to buy you the most obscenely expensive things when you’re not there to object and tells you it was final sale, but “it’s okay, love, we’ll go and get you something else, yeah?” and thats how she gets you because she knows you love her gifts, and she will be getting you more
with lute, you’d definitely be the one buying things on a whim. however, she would make you return things that were too pricey, only to find something she’d want to get you — conveniently she’d forget to check the tag, or she’ll talk to the shop owner until she got the price down
“what about this?” she’d ask when she saw something she wanted to get you, and you’d have to ask her whether it was for you her her. she’d lie, obviously, and end up finding a way to give it to you in the future
lute would also tell you not to get her anything then be walking with adam down the promenade and tell you to “catch” as she tossed you something she got for you
and that girl is 100% watching to see you fawn over it, smiling when she sees how excited you are only to be pulled out of it by you coming back to give her something in return because you just knew if she told you not to get anything, that meant she got you something. like it’s basically a competition at this point and she counts that as a loss — and lute does not lose
velvette, on the other hand? not a competition; she’s winning either way. she has a partner who gets her gifts that meet her expectations, and she has a partner she can give gifts that meet her expectations
but lute’s competitiveness about gifts is hot so who’s really winning…
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hylianane · 9 months
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Reading Zoro’s character description for the LA really hit me hard with the fact that Zoro’s probably happier now than he’s ever been in his life. “Meeting Luffy is the biggest thing that ever happened to Zoro”. And yes yes yes that’s true for most Strawhats, but thats usually because Luffy freed them from villains who were actively making their lives miserable. Zoro was in trouble when he met Luffy, yes, but it was because of a deal he willingly made with Helmeppo, a punishment he decided to endure against someone who wasn't a real threat to him. Zoro was always free to do as he pleased. But, much like Luffy was before setting sail himself, he was also terribly alone.
Unable to build connections because once he set sail from each island his sense of direction made it so he could never return. Having to fight and kill to afford each meal, while maintaining a very demanding lifestyle. Facing each battle knowing that even if he wins, it could still be game over, as he couldn’t afford to sit back and let himself recover, and there was no one he could trust to help him dress wounds and stand up again.
By giving him a navigator, a cook, a doctor, a crew, Luffy has given him the world. People to love and protect and fall back on, people to help him follow his dream and enjoy every second of the chase. And I’m sure he tells himself that if he were to quit the crew at any time, he’d survive on his own just fine, but that’s such an empty fucking threat because these people have made him happier than he’s ever been, just as free as before but now finally living. I love him sm.
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starrluvs · 7 months
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summary: bi han thirst because i need him carnally ... so it's just pwp
cw: bi han being a meanie (he calls reader a whore once or twice), dom/sub undertones, piv, afab reader, degradation, dumbification, lowercase intended, minors shoo pls and ty ^^ , i think thats about it!
wc: 551
a/n: this is basically my first post here. so i think whoring out for bi han is a suitable introduction... enjoy <3 ! (also looking for some mutuals on here ^^)
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all you were able to do was whine into the mattress as your lover pounded into you from behind. the fierce impact of his thrusts jerked both you and the bed forward, showing a display of his brute strength and causing the headboard to clash against the wall with his rhythm. 
“bi-han..!” his name was the only coherent thing that could roll off your tongue along with a few pleads of telling the cryomancer to slow down, which only resulted in your head being pushed further into the mattress with a strong, cold grip. “you’re in no place to make orders,” bi-han’s violent thrusts come to a halt and you take the opportunity to catch your breath, “you are meant to obey and take what you are given by your grandmaster, is that understood?” you glance back at him as best as you could with his hand still holding your face down. he looked absolutely beautiful…
his hair was out of its usual bun and was now a disheveled mess that fell to his shoulders with strands sticking to his forehead, and the tip of his ears were tinted with a flush of pink. Knowing only you could see your grandmaster like this made you feel like you had truly won in life. “y-yes, grandmaster…” to no surprise, your obedience caused him to let out a satisfied groan. 
without any more wasted time, bi-han places both of his rough, frosted hands on your hips once again– hard. –and you were sure you were going to see bruises on your skin the next morning that were left on all the places he touched you.
that violent force of his thrusts had returned, except this time he pressed his bigger frame against your back, moving close enough to hover his lips right above your ear. “being used like this…” his breath was cold against your heated skin, letting out occasional groans, “...it’s a privilege to serve and submit to the lin kuei’s grandmaster. isn’t that right, my love?” hearing all the sounds he made along with his deep voice has your mind spinning and unable to concentrate. Perhaps you were truly drunk on his cock– which is something you were used to during your time with bi-han.
as hard as you tried, you couldn't muster a proper response out of your mouth, which was currently hung open with your tongue lolled out, making bi-han scoff. “such a pathetic mess beneath me. are you going to answer my question..?” he licked the lobe of your ear and bit it lightly, “..or do i have to put you in your place?” a shiver runs up your spine… but you couldnt tell if it was due to his threat, or from the close contact he’s been keeping with you. You were able to feel bi-han sharpen his thrusts on purpose, making you squeal out louder than before. “i’m.. honored to serve you, grandmaster,” the words trembled as they left your mouth. but hey, it was the effort that mattered.
you hear bi-han chuckle and hum in what sounds like approval.
 “so my little whore can speak, hm?” for some reason you couldn't exactly read his tone…
“perhaps i may have to go a bit harder, then.”
well shit… Your body was going to hate you the next morning.
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limboraptor · 2 months
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I think its pretty fucked up how after Caviar kicked the paladin's asses he IMMEDIATELY became a target. Like thats mad dark how he was wanted dead for that shit.
At first Caviar wasn't interested in Oyster's offer, nor did he seem to show any concern of his current situation (in fact he probably knew exactly what he was getting into) which is understandable, since he JUST beat the asses of every paladin (and pirates alike).
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But it's until Oyster brings up the safety of his crew does he suddenly perk up. Caviar can easily hold his own against assassins, but the thought of his crew, his family, being put at risk of danger like that? That's something entirely different.
And these aren't pirates that can be dealt with like usual, no, these are most likely assassins or even bounty hunters that are from the Republic, his own home- a whole different, unpredictable kind of threat that Caviar was not willing to risk dealing with. Caviar couldn't refuse Oyster's offer, not after she twisted his arm so well. The safety of his crew always comes first.
I can only imagine how on edge Caviar must have been returning to his ship that night; getting a lot of dirty looks from some shady individuals as he passed by them, the air heavy with tension. All eyes were on him, and he knew that some of those eyes wanted him dead.
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Genya with a s/o who basically the enemy of Sanemi but loves Genya a lot headcanons?
Ngl, this request made me chuckle as it just made me picture genya trying to hold back his s/o from punching sanemi XD
Oh my god! Or the meme with the lady holding the dude while pointing at another dude XD
Thank you so much for requesting! Especially since I've not had many genya requests and its an honest to god crime....
Anyway!
I hope that you enjoy and that i've done your request justice, come back to request whenever you like as your more than welcome to return (^w^. )
Genya Shinazugawa with an S/O who's enemies with Sanemi - [Headcannons]
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If Genya got paid every single time you and his brother fought, he'd be rich enough to buy you something fancy and a house - but he didn't so bargaining you away with promises of affection and snack would have to do...
You were so sweet with him - so kind and understanding and patient with him that the first time you'd held his hands he'd almost started sobbing
You just hated Sanemi.....
Like, really hated him - "He's an arsehole Gen!" You'd proclaimed hands vigorously scrubbing away at the dirt on the table after dinner "I hate him and his face!"
It was safe to say that Sanemi didn't really like you either but then again he didn't really like anyone to begin with... - "I hate your partners face Genya, (He/She/They) annoy me and I'd punch 'em at any given opportunity"
Your soft words of love (to Genya) turn to hard acid whenever Sanemi makes an appearance - thinly veiled threats and insults exchanged quickly - and Genya always has to take a step back from the poison you spit, thankful (and slightly amused) that it's never directed towards him
Beautiful Smile shifting into a battle-worn snarl (a flash of canine and a vein prominent in your forehead) as you enter a stance that's very reminiscent of a street brawler
9/10 you two end up brawling
It didn't matter where you two went - to the market, training grounds, a mission or on the way home - you somehow managed to lock on and find Sanemi
"I can just feel his annoying, smug energy and it makes me want to punch him"
Genya quickly finds himself developing a sanemi radar too - especially a radar that works whenever the two of you go out - that out ranks yours, specifically so he can whisk you both away before you spot him and a verbal altercation occurs
On the days where your both acting "nice" to each other (which is very rare) you and sanemi still make poorly concealed jabs at each other
In an effort to get the both of you to get along (even if its only slighty) Genya sometimes made you both wear a "getting along" kimono (much like the getting along t-shirt) so that you both weren't fighting
"If neither of you can be nice to each other for an hour, I'm not gonna speak to either of you for the rest of the day" which is quickly followed by you complaining before trying to get along with the enemy (aka. Sanemi)
Also you know the meme where there's a guy in a armchair and he asks the other dude to look at him before calling dude.2 bitch? yeah, thats you and sanemi when genya's not looking
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jellycreamjammedart · 10 months
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I have such a brainrot idea of post-betrayal Cassie teaming up with Roxy to help get her out but with the elevator destroyed they have to take the long way back, aka going through the entire PizzaPlex again. Roxy is determined to get Cassie out no matter how hard it is but Cassie decides she has a lot more to do down there in the meanwhile.
First thing turning M.X.E.S security back on but it's very weak and vulnerable without the security nodes. The Mimic is down there somewhere still but it certainly will try to follow and escape once it's no longer stunned. So Cassie offers M.X.E.S her vanni mask as a first initial node (with M.X.E.S and Helpi instructing her how to do so,) so that the security bunny has some grounding to start on. This allows both Helpi and M.X.E.S to talk to Cassie through the mask's implant.
So on the long way back Cassie tries reactivating the parent nodes and child nodes.
Since she gets on better terms with M.X.E.S it no longer tries to get her killed, meaning most past threats aren't gonna be prone to attack her... but thats not enough for Cassie.
She goes out of the way to help those broken, confused things seemingly tortured beyond repair. She tries to save every thing stuck down there with her. She clings to the idea and need to there being some meaning in a little compassion in such cruel, twisted world.
Getting her hands dirty pulling trash and rotten food out of Chica's body to disobstruct these nasty things from her endo ontop of returning her voice.
Getting her hands scratched up trying to reboot Monty after draining the water he was electrified in.
Getting her hands sore trying to pull out every sharp metal seen impaling into Prototype Glamrock Freddy.
They join Cassie along with roxy.
Reactivating the mini Music Men, they help her through too vertical vents. Reactivating the wet floor bots.
Basically undo everything the Mimic tricked her into doing, with an additional offer of bits of kindness. It was her kind heart that led her down. It can lead her back up. And she's taking everyone up with her.
Trying to patch and fix Bonnie up. Recruiting the Daycare Attendant so they're not doomed to an empty lonely daycare.
Cassie tries to make everything better for everybody. By god does she wish she had the power to just fix literally everything! But she can't... so she sets on her heels and tries to fix whatever she *can* fix.
By the time they make their way back to the lobby where this nightmare and deception started, Cassie has gathered a large group of unlikely friends. They're finally here! They finally can leave. See the sun. Be free! Be happy again!
As beautiful of a sentiment that is... it's not that simple.
They can't all just leave; they need to stay to help M.X.E.S keep the Mimic sealed away. They're guardians as much as M.X.E.S is. And if a similar crisis happens again, M.X.E.S needs guardians to send distress signals to to come and help. It can't guard the place alone.
Cassie can leave though. She earned it. She deserves her happy ending. She did enough- no she did more than enough. She did more than many ever did.
But if it's her happy ending, then why does she feel her heart breaking? Why does it feel so unfair? Looking at those disfigured broken faces (or lack thereof, in the case of Prototype Glamrock Freddy,) she can see real friends there, despite everything they've gone through. Real friends that would show up to her birthday party in a heartbeat, she knows. Real friends that wouldn't leave her behind. She's never had such friends before in her life!
And now she's the one who has to leave them behind?
This feels awful. She feels awful. It doesn't feel like a happy ending at all. All she can bring herself to do is cry her heart out while hugging and clinging to those metal monsters.
But it's necessary, as painful as it is to part ways. It's the right thing. They have a very important mission in there, and Cassie has a whole life ahead of her-- she shouldn't stay really, there's no proper or safe food for her down there. And this is no place for a child, this is no longer the fun Freddy Fazbear's Mega PizzaPlex where people come to play, eat and watch the Glamrock band. Those are times long passed, long gone, and forgotten by most.
Besides, she can leave with her vanni mask, the first and now last node. Even if history repeats itself, there would always be one node left. It's a perfect safety plan.
Or... Cassie can choose to stay a little longer, if to check if there's anything else she can do... such as unlocking that mysterious scooper room... it sure is scary, the thought of getting down there again. But with those new friends by her side rather than trying to stop her, the trip back down is quite easier, if still rather dangerous due to the place's hazardous condition. But she will not fail this time. She's determined not to.
Maybe then, she can make everything right again, for them all, after all.
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wellthebardsdead · 1 month
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I just realised.
We can feel when Haarlep is using our body during sex right? If he’s using your form you feel everything he’s doing with it or having done to it.
Which means if Raphael’s using his form while having sex- he’s effectively getting double the enjoyment, he’s not only being a selfish lover but he’s treating it like masturbating with extra steps, once he’s got his fun out of it he’s no reason to let Haarlep finish, he’s just a toy to him.
But more over on that- He wanted us to sleep with Haarlep. Korrilla states the only reason we’re still standing there is because Raphael allowed us to be there. And Haarlep slept with us, IN RAPHAELS FORM!
Raphael knew we were sleeping with him!!! He let it happen and still took his time returning long enough for us to 1, find the contracts, and 2 obtain the hammer if we didn’t already have it!!
And on top of that, if we refuse Haarlep he threatens that he and Raphael will keep us alive and use us as a doll for their enjoyment!
As if his eyeing us up in act 2, or the fact we get confirmation Haarlep as Raphael’s personal incubus was using our body after we sleep with him wasn’t already glaringly obvious-
*inhales*
THE DEVIL IS HORNY FOR US!!! AND THATS A THREAT!!
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