#“i lost my humanity... my death is Long over due”

[parker-d-bloodrose]

OKAY BUT COMMANDER COSMO IS LITERALLY FROM A DIFFERENT TIME LINE AND HE JUST WOKE UP FROM BEING TRAPPED IN THE NECROSTAR FOR GODS KNOWS HOW LONG AND HE JUST KNOWS INTUITIVELY THAT COSMIKA IS THE POWER SOURCE FOR THE ASTRONAUT??? LIKE HOW!!!!!

#irene rants #i cry about this song though #he realizes how fucked up she made him #“i lost my humanity... my death is Long over due” #and i Buddy oh gods do i cry #she saved him yes but she turned him into a monster because she was really just a child herself #steam powered giraffe #the vice quadrant

[urdepressedslut]

Hello lovely,

I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)

Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky

Please. That would be nice.

Take care honey

oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰

Love Hurts

♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this

main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+

Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.

It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.

It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.

That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.

“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.

“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.

He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.

“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.

He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.

“Not really.” He admitted.

You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.

“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.

You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”

His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.

“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.

“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.

But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.

“Like what?”

You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?

“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.

“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.

“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”

“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.

“No, no Buck listen—”

That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.

“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”

You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.

“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.

Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.

He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.

Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.

“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.

Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.

“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.

You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.

“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.

Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.

Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.

“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.

“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.

Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.

“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”

Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.

“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.

Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.

Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.

“Bucky I—”

“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.

“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.

You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.

“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.

Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.

He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.

“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.

You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.

“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.

Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.

“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.

Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.

Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.

God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.

You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.

Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.

You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.

"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.

He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.

Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.

“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.

Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.

“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.

Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.

“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.

You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.

“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.

Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.

“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.

You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.

Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.

“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”

You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.

“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.

Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”

“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.

His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.

Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.

Yeah… just one more day.

You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.

Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.

You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.

The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.

You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.

You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.

Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.

You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.

You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.

You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.

You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.

Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.

You furrowed your brows, looking him over.

“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.

You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.

“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.

You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.

“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.

You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.

“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.

He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.

You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.

Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.

Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.

“He hates me.” You mumbled.

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.

“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”

You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.

“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.

Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.

You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.

He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.

He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.

Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.

“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”

He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.

Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.

Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.

“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.

“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.

You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?

“Then why?”

“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.

The anger was approaching.

“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”

You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.

He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.

“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”

You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.

You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.

“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.

You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.

“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.

“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”

You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.

“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.

It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.

“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.

“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.

“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.

“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.

“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.

“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.

Like he could finally breath.

“Why?” He wondered.

You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.

“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.

His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.

“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.

You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.

“Never again— I promise.”

This time, he wouldn’t break it.

to be added to a taglist

TAGLIST: @engie115 @kmc1989 @ghostofwinter @silverfire13 @goldylions @potatothots @billy-reads @hanihoney88 @skittle479 @hereticdance @mentalidrainedfangirl @natashassandwich @marvelogic @soul-system @alinasmcu @almosttoopizza @lilbabygirll @sebastiansstanswhore @yujyujj @jasminocano

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe #reader insert #buckybarnes #marvel imagines #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #protective bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #hurt/comfort fic #james buchanan barnes #beefy bucky barnes #theleggymeggy fics #fluffy #heavy angst #I write so much sadness I swear im okay #thank you for requesting!

[fursasaida]

In just one month, approximately 462 hectares (4.6 million m²) of woodland, "notably pines and oaks, as well as around 20 hectares of centuries-old olive groves," have been destroyed by Israeli airstrikes, said Georges Mitri, Director of the Land and Natural Resources Programme at Balamand University. Since the escalation of tensions between Hezbollah and the Israeli army on Oct. 8, the latter has used white phosphorus to set fire to forests and fields in border areas. The 1980 Geneva Convention, which Israel has not signed, prohibits the use of white phosphorous on civilians and in civilian areas due to its devastating effects on humans, animals and the environment.

[...]

Amid the ongoing economic crisis, the attacks targeting olive groves ahead of harvest season have a major negative impact on the local economy in the area. "Traditionally, people gather around the olive trees, harvest their crops, press their oil together... A big part of their lives is being lost," lamented Younes. “The olive trees being burned are centuries old," he pointed out. “If we were to replant them today, how long would it be before these fields became productive?” Giving an estimate of the economic losses attributed to the daily fires in the South, Mitri put the figure at nearly 20 million dollars. In the long term, Younes is particularly concerned about the environmental impact of the phosphorus bombs. "We have no choice but to wait until the end of hostilities before assessing the situation on the ground," he said. In Younes’ view, the greater the rate of absorption of phosphorus into the soil and water, the greater the risk of dramatic long-term consequences on Lebanon’s environment.

I'll add here that southern Lebanon has never fully recovered from 2006. There are still unexploded cluster bombs in the ground, killing and maiming people. There is still chemical contamination. The economic impact on agriculture has never been fully recouped. The cancer rates are still elevated and unaddressed. The labor structure and which crops are grown changed after 2006 and have never reverted. I remember weeping watching the bombing of Gaza in 2021 as I was in the middle of writing a paper about the long term legacies of the July War in Lebanon, with these additional long-term violences of the bombing at the forefront of my mind along with the immediate deaths and tragedies. This is a horrifying compounding of an existing injury, at a time when Lebanon is in economic free fall and (as the article also explains) in the middle of fire season, and with firefighters unable to do much because the area is. being bombed.

#lebanon #israel #waste #contamination #agriculture #UXOs

[cozymoko]

Hello! can I ask for yandere Muzan from demon slayer with a human s/o thats despises him and fights him at every point. (I hope it's not too strange)

YAN. MUZAN KIBUTSUJI WITH A S/O WHO DESPISES HIM.

Note: Nope, it's all good!

LINKS: KNY Masterlist!

WARNING(S): Yandere themes, toxic/abusive relationships, Muzan's insufferable god complex

You must be a masochist, there's no other plausible motive behind your disobedience. The punishment you must undergo is far too great for it to be a mere choice. Lucky for you, Muzan is more than willing to comply with your “sick” pleasures, though he's well aware of your true intentions.

Don't mistake his infatuation for softness or compassion at that, for this man is far beyond anything of the sort. Humans had been nothing more than a vital food source for him; they were weak and so very fragile. Thus falling for one was frankly not in his best interest. Unlucky Muzan.

It's sick, the way he loves you; it's hardly anything but a living nightmare you had prayed to be awaken from. You were not obligated to love him, yet your true feelings were encouraged to stay hidden. However your loyalty had to be guaranteed. Under his “protection” you were nothing more than a pet he kept by his side, so act the part.

Fighting him? Oh dear, have you lost your mind? This won't end well for you, surely you knew that much. You may have his heart in your clutches, but that doesn't mean he's opposed to roughing you up a bit. You'll heal with due time so why not?

The demon king isn't one to take disrespect from anyone, not even you. You may be near his level, but you are in no way on it. If it were towards the Upper Moons then perhaps he'd find it fairly amusing. You're bound to have some form of malevolence towards them for watching over you in his absence. But that's even better as it leaves MUZAN no real competition (not that he had any).

That evening was much like any other. Another failed escape attempt had troubled your mind with dismay, with desperation. Your arms made a home around you much like a cocoon, in hopes of shielding you from the coldness of your desolate home - The Infinity Castle.

Where you resided was in no way, feasible for the life of a human. Dust had begun to attack the deep lacerations of your skin, leaving nothing more than a bitter pain in its wake Muzan so graciously decided that food was no longer a necessity. However, after the first day, your hunger hadn't appeared to disturb vou too much. You knew he wouldn't let you starve, he didn't have the balls to.

No matter how much you kicked, screamed, or wept; each lashing felt like hell on your body. You swore it was worse than death. For a man who claimed he loved you so effortlessly, this didn't feel like love. You wanted out; to set foot outside this endless pit taking you under. You wanted him dead.

“{Name},” Oh my, it looks like he's returned! On you go, don't hide in this corner for too long. Kno wing you, I'll bet you'll be right back in here in no time! You put this upon yourself so I suggest you take today's punishment like a champ...

And trust me, dear. It will hurt.

#—🍁 #x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere scenarios #muzan x reader #muzan headcanons #muzan kibutsuji x reader #yandere muzan #kny headcanons #kny imagines #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere demon x reader #yandere demon slayer #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer headcanons

[bettyfrommars]

I need to know what you think about finding a dark siren Eddie Munson. Maybe he got hurt and washed up on the shore? You’re immediately his mate and he loves you very much even though he’s never been near a human. Very much I hate everyone but you vibes for our bloodthirsty friend.

Boyfriend From the Deep

darkSiren!Eddie x Reader

darkSiren!Eddie art here and here

18+ONLY, smut, some monsterfuqqing, mention of gore, mention of throwing up, visit from Murray & Hopper, mention of reader's life not going well, AFAB Reader, love at first sight, soulmates, merman!Eddie. wc: 3k

A/N: Another request I was really excited to sink my teeth into. My hope is to continue this eventually, taking inspiration from the 1984 film Splash. Looking forward to what y'all think of darkSiren!Eddie, thank you for indulging me.

---------

Eddie choked and coughed as the wave crashed over him, forcing his eyes open with a gargled gasp.  He was pinned up against a rocky ledge, half of his body on the sand and the other half in the frigid water.  All of a sudden, he felt sick, and began retching clear bile into the sea.  He didn’t like breathing the air, he wasn’t used to it, and it caught in his throat like a feather–tickling—until he coughed and retched again.  The gills on the sides of his neck sputtered, flapping open like vents, drying out, trying to conform to the new way of breathing.

It was then that he became aware of the dull ache at the back of his head, and with trembling fingers, he reached back to test the spot with a cringe and a hiss.  He checked to find that his fingertips were bloody; he must’ve knocked his head on one of the sharp rocks during the transformation.  How badly was he wounded? Would be a shame to survive the journey to human form only to die on the beach and rot like a bloated fish.  

He braced his hand, fingers digging into the sand, and flicked his hips to swish his tail to get him unstuck, but then two legs kicked out from his hips, stuck in a fisherman’s net, and it startled him, making him slam his head into the rock again.  He winced, eyes squeezing shut, whimpering a bit at the sting of the impact as the saltwater splashed up to his knees and misted his face.  

This was Eddie’s first time back to land in over a decade.  Mostly because he loathed humans.  He loved to lure them to their deaths, he loved to watch from under the water as their ships sank so that he could feed on their fear, curling the sound waves of their screams into his belly like sweet nectar. 

He twisted, trying to be free of the rough ropes that cut into his skin, but he was weak, and he wasn’t sure how much blood he’d lost.  He was stuck there now, for 7 days and 7 nights, and he thought maybe he’d just find a way to stay hidden…

….until he saw you.

It was rare for you to be up at the crack of dawn, unless it was due to the fact that you hadn’t slept at all, which was a regular occurrence.  Long, restful sleeps that lasted hours were just a myth to you, ever since you’d watched your life go down the toilet.  A breakup, a death in the family, getting fired from your job; all of it happened all at once, and you were still reeling, teetering at the edge of the abyss.

You were all alone in the world, but for your dog, Louie, and the modest cottage you were renting for a week off the Oregon coast.  The beach house was tucked back in the woods, and it didn’t even have a TV, so flipping it on to watch the early morning broadcast or some cartoons to relax your brain was not an option. The radio would have to do, and the first song that came on when you flipped the dial was Brandy by Looking Glass.  You hummed along to it as you plucked Louie’s leash off the sofa and attached it to his collar.  He was a medium, handsome, mixed-breed boy that you’d rescued from the side of the road as a puppy.  Part corgi, part border collie, part…dalmatian? You weren’t entirely sure.  

“He came on a summer's day

Bringin' gifts from far away

But he made it clear he couldn't stay

No harbor was his home

The sailor said, ‘Brandy, you're a fine girl 

What a good wife you would be 

But my life, my love, and my lady is the sea”

It was exceptionally chilly for an August morning, making you bundle in a hoodie and boots for the trek out to the beach.  Louie was practically foaming at the mouth to get out there for his run, and since your area of the beach was fairly secluded at that time of morning, you unhooked his leash where the dirt path met with the sand, and he bolted into the fog toward the ocean like a shot.  There was a wet mist lingering in the air, like salty, seaweed-scented kisses that made you squint against the bright gray hues turning blue with the rise of the sun.  A few seagulls squawked and swooshed overhead, diving down to perch on a large piece of driftwood, and you waved to them, as if they’d showed up just to say hello to you.

You faced the vast expanse of ocean and crashing waves with a mix of awe and defiance, challenging it silently with a lift of your chin.  Your reverie was rudely interrupted by Louie’s alarm bark, somewhere deep in the mist. 

You followed the sound, walking blind until you caught sight of the jutting rocks at the base of a cliff, and the shrill of Louie’s distress signal was getting further away.  Your feet picked up speed, stumbling for purchase in the soft, wet ground as you called for him, a bit of panic stroking your heart.  Why did it feel like you were about to start crying? An avalanche of unfelt emotions gathered in your throat as you called for your loyal companion.  

But there he was, finally, sitting facing the rocks, tail wagging side to side, making a fan-shape in the sand, basically ignoring you as you collapsed to one knee, cursing, clutching your chest.  

You mumbled a whole conversation to him as you snapped the leash back in place and got to your feet.  You tried to guide him in the other direction, but Louie was transfixed on something a few yards ahead, and it took your eyes a moment to adjust—but then you saw it.  A hand, slightly webbed between the fingers, appeared from around the black rock, digging into the sand, and then another hand gripped the tan earth further along, as if someone were trying to pull themself along by their arm strength alone.  The wrists were covered in jewelry that looked like they were made of shell and bone; the forearms tattooed in dotted, swirling black ink patterns.  

You were too stunned to scream, mouth hanging agape.  You urged Louie back to shield him with your legs.  You saw the long, dark hair next, pooling over bare, tattooed shoulders; it was messy and unkempt, littered in bits of fauna and a few empty clam shells, one side matted with blood.  

Before your brain could throw the alarm that this might be dangerous, you were already speaking.  “A-are you alright? Do you need me to get help?”

That was when his head snapped up, and wide, all-white eyes regarded you with malice, lips curling back to expose a mouth full of pointed teeth.  He growled at you, and Louie growled back, but then, after a second, the monster's face softened.  The milk white eyes behind tendrils of hair shifted to brown, human irises, and he cocked his head a few times at you, as if trying to understand what you had just said.

You should have fainted.

You should have turned and run screaming in the other direction.

But, for some reason, neither one of those even occurred to you.  

You came around to get a better look at him, down along where the water lapped at your boots, and took in the rest of his body; he was tangled up in a crude net from the waist down.  He wore a necklace that appeared to be made of intricate fish bones and coral, and shark tooth earring dangled from his ear.  The tattoo patterns ran all along his chest, stomach, and legs.  You released Louie’s leash, and he sat right where he was told, while you crouched down to meet Eddie’s curious gaze that never strayed from you.

“Will you let me help you?” You asked.

Eddie was in love.

He never believed the stories he’d been told about the imprinting and immediate bonding that happened when you met your mate.  He wasn’t just any Merman, he was a Siren, and as a soldier of the dark forces of the sea, he figured he didn’t have time for frivolous things like romance.

But this took no time at all.

You were meant to be his, and he didn’t care who he had to kill to keep you.  

He studied your face as you worked to free the wet knot of seaweed tangles on the net, freeing his thighs from the heavyweight, gasping and averting your eyes at the way your touch made his cock twitch and swell.  You helped him to sit up, noticing what appeared to be gills on his throat and sides along his ribs.  His flesh was similar to that of a human, but also not.  It had a thick, rippled texture, like the belly of a snake, and it seemed to glow with a soft blue fluorescence.  His muscles were tight and lean, and he didn’t even bother to shiver as a cold wind made your teeth chatter. 

You told him your name as another seagull cawed overhead, and asked what you should call him.  

His eyebrows clenched together, tilting his head a few times, watching your mouth as you spoke.

“Do you speak English?”  You asked it in a cringe way, with a loud voice, as if a higher volume could break any language barrier.  

He brought his webbed hand up to touch your face, and you jerked away at first, but then you let his scaled knuckles graze your cheek, the legs of your jeans soaking wet now as you knelt there with what could only be described as a figment of your imagination. 

He spoke a word in foreign language, his voice a deep whisper.  You remembered how solid white his eyes had been before when he thought you were a threat, but now they were honey brown, almost cat-like in nature as they softly adored you. 

“I-I don’t understand,” you breathed, unable to comprehend the time it took for his mouth to find yours, to plant wholesome kisses, to taste you.

You might’ve been in love with him at that moment too, but your jaded heart refused to let yourself believe it.  

You did, however, feel the arousal blossom at your core as his tongue fluttered against yours, whimpering with a little click in his throat like a sea lion at the way you returned his kiss.

The urge to mate you, to officially make you his, was too strong for Eddie to take into regard any of the formalities of courtship.  Once your hand found his generous girth and began to stroke, encouragingly, that was all it took.

You skittered backwards up onto the semi-dry sand, unzipping your jeans and pushing them down to your ankles as you went, and Eddie followed, bracing himself on top so he wouldn’t crush you, desperate to find your mouth again. His powerful hips bucked against you, and you held him by the neck, begging for more while he spoke to you in that foreign tongue, staring into your eyes, willing you to understand him.  

Wanting you to know that no one would ever love you as much as he did; that he would be your one and only mate until the darkness took you both.  

The position felt awkward, but there was no time to take your boots off as your hole clenched the air, desperate to be filled.  You spun around to get on your hands and knees, and Eddie buried his cock in your wet heat with one swish of his muscular thighs, throwing his head back in a bark of triumph.  

You pushed back against him, needing him to move, to stretch you and own you with each push, your fingers clawing into the sand as you whined.  

Nearby, Louie cocked his head and tried to lift one floppy ear, but then he turned his face to the sea, trying to give you some privacy.

You’d never been fucked by someone as strong as this sea monster, and your whole body jerked and vibrated under the impact of his deep thrusts.  “Yesyesyes…oh fuck!”

It wasn’t long before Eddie clapped his pelvis flush to your ass and spilled inside of you, chanting foreign words, tilting his head to the sky, worshiping you with his offering.  He stayed locked there for a while, working his seed deeper with every stroke.  When he was done, he flipped you over with a feral urgency that sent sand into your eyes and nose, but you didn’t care, because now his mouth was on you.  

Your fingers sank into his matted hair, and that was when you felt the viscous patch and remembered he was bleeding.  His big, strong legs were a bit wobbly, and the thought occurred to you, for whatever reason, that he wasn’t accustomed to using them.  

But then Louie was barking in the other direction, and you both turned your attention to see a figure appearing from out of the mist.   A middle-aged man in a pageboy cap and a trench coat; he was already too close before you knew he was there, and he dropped the walking stick in his hand, his face frozen in shock and terror.  

Eddie smelled the foul human approaching and the familiar bloodlust roared in his veins. The fin on Eddie’s back bristled as he rose to a crouch with a ferocious growl.  You shuffled as far as you could against the rock, trying to pull your jeans up and cover yourself, not sure what to think of Eddie’s reaction.

Eddie bared his mouth full of sharp teeth in a sneer at the man, his eyes going completely white again.  A storm seemed to hit the beach all of a sudden at Eddie’s command, dropping down a gust of wind that rocked the waves and sent the man stumbling off his feet as if the world tilted on its axis, trying to hold his hat on against the force of it.  A low, rumbling wail came from somewhere deep in Eddie’s chest as you tried to shield your face from the whips of sand stabbing like tiny daggers in your flesh.  Eddie appeared to be sucking the life out of the man from his distance; the human’s body lifted up in the air and bent back.  You thought you heard something crack.  

It was only a matter of seconds before the man crumpled to the ground, unresponsive, and then Eddie settled, and so did the air around him.  After a few heartbeats, there were only the crashing waves and the birds once again, and Eddie’s head snapped to you, searching, making sure you were okay.

He held his arms out and you scrambled over, burying your head in the crook of his neck, letting him cage you, letting him have you.

Louie went over to sniff around at the man on the ground, wondering if he had any treats, and then he lifted his leg and let go of a stream of urine onto his shoe.

—-----

Murray Bauman slammed the paper onto Hopper’s desk, forcing a gust of wind into his face and a couple of yellow sticky notes to go flying.

Murray waited, hands on his hips, the door to the office wide open behind him.  Hopper took a deep inhale and flicked a few bored glances from the cover of the Seaside Review back up to Murray’s severe expression.

“Is this your way of telling me you're taking a vacation?” He guessed, shifting back in his squeaky chair.

“This,” Murray jabbed his finger in the direction of the paper.  “Is what I’ve been trying to tell you about.”

In the mood to humor his old friend, Hopper bent forward, furrowing his brow, taking a closer look at the headlines.  

Murray continued, pacing in front of the desk as he did so.  “Merpeople don’t exist? Well then, explain that to me.”

To the right, at the top of a long column and a sketch, was the headline: Reclusive artist survives a Siren attack on the beach and lives to tell: Merfolk exist.

Hopper cleared his throat.  “This is a drawing, Murray.”

Murray stopped his pacing, inclining his head, adopting a sarcastic tone.  “Notice anything familiar about that likeness, Jim? Does any part of it ring a bell? The white eyes, maybe? The teeth?”

“Sure,” Hopper picked the paper up and plopped it down, further away from him.  “It looks like Elvis.  Call The Inquirer.” 

Murray flopped in a chair facing the Chief’s desk with a huff.  He’d keep talking about it even if it fell on deaf ears because he knew he was right.  “The migration of the Sirens.  Enki, Poseidon, Amphitrite, the legend of the skin-shedding Merfolk who can walk on land for 7 days during a blood moon.  Humanoids.  Cannibals of the sea—-”

“Stop,” Hopper put his hand up palm out. “Just, stop. Is any of this supposed to make any sense to me? Why are you here? What have I done to deserve this?”

Murray rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, intertwining his fingers.  “The drawing should look familiar to you, Jim, because it’s just like the one I saw when I was a teenager, and three summers ago when I was on that death-trap Alaskan cruise.  I told you all about it.  I told you that I was—-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hopper interrupted.  “But again, I’ll ask—why are you coming to me with this? You think I’m going to arrest a fish?”

Murray rounded his shoulders.  "I know that Sirens exist, Jim.  There’s more than enough evidence out there, and I’m going to prove it to you, if not the world.” 

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #darkSiren!Eddie #merman!Eddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #Eddie Munson fanfiction #monster fucking #monsterfucker #monster smut #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader

[inmyfxith]

Blessed Union

Pairing: Neteyam x human!reader

Summary: Neteyam and you are in a serious relationship, but Neytiri and Jake believe your inability to procreate makes it impossible. Eywa sees your love and blesses you with a spiritual pregnancy.

A/N: Neteyam and you are around 20.

Warnings: None

Words: 3k3

-> Requested

Pandora was a remarkable place, not only because of its breathtaking biodiversity, but also because of the beings that inhabited this distant moon from your birthplace. In just a few short years, your human existence had completely changed. You had gone from a human lost in a wonderland to the potential future partner of the leader of a recognized clan.

Sitting on top of a hill, you watched the sunrise. The sky was painted with shades of pink and orange, and the clouds seemed to glow with the rising sun. A feeling of peace suddenly washed over you as you enjoyed the beauty of the landscape. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, letting the cool morning air fill your lungs and the first rays of the sun warm your skin.

When your eyes opened again, the sun was already above the horizon, casting its scorching glow over the forest. You sat there for a while, simply enjoying the solitude and peacefulness. It was a moment of pure beauty and serenity. A shadow passed through the sky so quickly that it took you a few minutes to realize that it was Neteyam's ikran floating in the air to join you.

“You look so handsome up there,” you called out to him as he gracefully landed next to you. Neteyam's smile was nothing short of infectious as he came to sit next to you.

“Thank you, my love,” he said, leaning in to plant a kiss on the top of your head, your face being inaccessible due to your exopack. You felt your cheeks flush and a warmth spread through your body. Moments like these always reminded you of how lucky you were to have Neteyam in your life. He was not only physically attractive, but also kind and loving, and your love was special.

As tradition dictated in his clan, upon the death of his father, Neteyam would become the new Olo'ektan, the leader of his clan, and you knew he was working hard to live up to his father's greatness.

“My love,” he began, “we’ve been together for long and I can’t imagine going through this journey without you by my side.” Neteyam took your tiny hand into his. “You have been a constant source of strength and support for me, and I know that you would be an amazing tsahik.”

Your heart filled with pride and joy as you listened to his words. Your hands found their way to his cheeks and your thumbs caressed his soft, blue skin. “I promise to do my best to live up to your efforts. I am proud of you, Neteyam, and so honored to be able to stand by your side,” you said. The young man leaned in to place another kiss on the top of your head, his eyes shining with love and determination.

Together, you remained there for a moment, enjoying the moment, knowing that your love was strong enough to weather any storm.

As a human, it had taken you some time to adapt to Neteyam's clan. Due to the actions of your kin, many Na'vi had been hostile to your presence in the High Camp, and you often had to endure disguised criticism or whispered conversations in a language you were not yet fully familiar with. Over time, tensions had eased somewhat, it was still too early to talk about trust, but the Omaticaya were now more affable towards you. Bringing fruits and other herbs collected on the way to the laboratory to the family of your beloved, your run was however stopped when you heard voices rise from the hut of the current Olo'ektan, Jake Sully, Neteyam's father. According to what you could perceive, Jake was in the company of his wife, Neytiri. Not wanting to disturb them, you simply waited near the hut, becoming an involuntary witness to their conversation.

“We must do something, Jake,” Neytiri began, her voice full of concern, “It seems clear that Neteyam's mate is not able to bear children. As the future Olo'ektan, it is his duty to produce offspring for the clan. With her around, our future is in danger.”

“I understand your concern, talking to them will probably not be a viable solution. They seem to love each other deeply, and it would be unfair to end their love in the name of tradition. Maybe we could find a way to...convince him to let go of this relationship and choose a mate who can fulfill his duties as a leader,” Jake replied. His mate sighed, pacing around the hut.

“I know you're right, but what other options do we have? I don't like the thought of causing Neteyam pain, but you're right. The needs of the tribe must come first. We'll have to find a way to gently persuade him to see reason."

Understanding the terms of the conversation taking place under the tent, your heart tightened. The basket filled with fruit that you held in your hands hit the ground, spilling its contents on the ground of the camp. Without a word, you ran out of the Omaticaya's cave, tears rolling down your cheeks as you delved into the forest. You couldn't bear the thought of losing Neteyam and everything you had built together. Your foot hit a root, causing you to fall to your knees. Holding your head in your hands, you hadn't realized that the Tree of Voices was now rising in front of you.

Minutes passed without you being able to stop crying. A hand rested on your shoulder, and without even looking up, you knew that Neteyam had arrived.

"Y/N, what's wrong?”

“I-I heard your parents talking,” you choked out, your voice shaking with emotion. “You need a mate who can have children, and I can’t do that. I-I just don’t want to lose you.”

Neteyam knelt down beside you, taking your small body in his arms and offering you all the comfort you needed. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. “I don't care about having children. I just want to be with you. You're the only one that matters to me.” You sniffled and looked up at him, your eyes filled with gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him before burying your face in his chest again. He held you tightly, as if to prove to you that no one could ever stand between him and the woman he loved. As you gradually regained your senses, sitting on Neteyam's lap with your face against his chest, you quietly meditated, trying to erase from your mind what you had heard.

“Y/N, open your eyes,” Neteyam whispered to you again. When you did, dozens of woodsprites were floating in the air, surrounding Neteyam and you. Admiring the spectacle that the goddess Eywa was offering you, you extended your hand, palm up, and a woodsprite landed on it.

“It seems I'm not the only one who has chosen you.” Neteyam smiled slightly, happy to see that the pure and sacred spirits were on your side.

The next few days passed without much trouble. You continued to meet Neteyam at the top of your hill every morning, as a little ritual before starting the day. As a natural reaction to what you had heard, your behavior towards Neteyam's parents became colder, more distant. You were still polite and relatively friendly, but nothing more.

However, as time passed, a singular tiredness began to consume you slowly. No matter how much sleep you gave yourself, you felt continually down. This situation worried your mother, who, despite being a doctor, had no expertise in human medicine. She kept a close eye on you, putting her hand on your forehead to monitor your temperature, but your condition seemed to be getting worse by the day.

Your fatigue was soon followed by weight loss, your cheeks gradually hollowing out, your bones becoming more visible without any clear explanation for your sudden condition. Neteyam was not fooled either, he was also worried to see you in this state and had repeatedly offered to speak to his grandmother, Mo'at, who knew the flowers and herbs of Pandora better than anyone else and whose knowledge was equal to that of the greatest Olo'ektan of the Tawkami clan. But you always refused, not wanting to give Jake and Neytiri another argument to chase you away.

One morning, as the sun was about to emerge from the horizon, you tried to climb to the top of your hill to meet Neteyam who was about to land on his ikran. But as you climbed the steep path, your legs began to feel heavy and your already diminished energy flew away like a feather in the wind. You tried to keep going, determined to reach the top, to see Neteyam, but, exhausted, you ended up stumbling down the path in the opposite direction. Just as you were about to pass out, a voice called out to you softly. Neteyam had run to you after seeing you from the sky, his facial expression reflecting the immense concern he felt.

You were thin and fragile, your skin pale and clammy. Neteyam led you back to his camp, to his grandmother's hut, hoping it wasn't too late to help you.

As he approached the hut, he saw Jake Sully standing outside, a worried look on his face. "What happened?" Jake asked as Neteyam approached.

"I found her on the hill," Neteyam replied, his voice heavy with concern. "She's sick and in pain. I think she broke something."

Mo'at sat quietly by your side, her eyes closed in concentration as she prayed to Eywa for the health and safety of her patient. She had prepared a number of herbal concoctions to help strengthen your body and boost your immune system, and she carefully administered them one by one.

Neteyam stood nervously by your side, watching as Mo'at worked. He had tried to speak to his father about your condition, but Jake had been too consumed with the preparations for the ceremony to pay much attention. Neteyam was worried about you, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was not right.

As the day passed and the sun began to set, Mo'at placed a gentle hand on your belly. She frowned, feeling something unsettling beneath her fingertips. She turned to Neteyam with a grave expression.

"Neteyam," she said, her voice heavy with concern. "Your mate is with child."

Neteyam's eyes widened in shock. "A child?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mo'at nodded gravely. "It is early yet, and it is small. But it is there, and it is growing."

Neteyam's mind raced as he tried to process this information. He had always known that you were not as strong as the Na'vi, and he had worried about your ability to survive. But a child? He had never even considered the possibility.

As he stood there, trying to come to terms with this revelation, Mo'at placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Do not worry," she said softly. "Eywa will guide us and protect your mate and your child. We will do everything we can to ensure their safety and well-being."

Neteyam nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over him at Mo'at's words. How could his mate be with child? They had never made love, and he couldn't fathom any other possibility.

As he sat lost in thought, his mind raced with possibilities. He immediately went back to the night under the Tree of Voices, when the woodsprites had surrounded them. Could that have had something to do with your sudden pregnancy?

Because of the complex and unprecedented nature of the child's conception, Mo'at insisted on keeping you under observation in her hut. At the time, when she told you that a child was growing in your belly, you didn't believe her, thinking that your mind was playing tricks on you. However, as the days passed and your belly grew, the news became more and more real.

Your mother was not happy about this news and when she came to exchange your exopack with another one, she was shocked by your situation. She entered under the hut, her face distorted by anger. "What does this mean? My daughter is pregnant and you're standing there watching calmly," she shouted at Neteyam who was standing beside you.

Neteyam raised her hands in a gesture of peace. "I understand that you are upset, but try to understand that it was not intentional. We never...I am just as confused as you are about how this happened."

Your mother's expression softened as she turned to you. "Are you sure you're pregnant?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. You nodded, tears streaming down your face.

"I don't know how it happened either, but I'm sure I'm carrying a child."

Mo'at, who was quietly preparing herbal concoctions in a corner of the hut, spoke up. "It is possible that the child was conceived under the tree of voices. The woodsprites are known to bless couples who pray to Eywa under its branches."

Your mother let out a sigh of frustration. "This is all so confusing. I just want what's best for my daughter."

Neteyam stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "I also want what's best for her. I will do everything in my power to keep her and the child safe and happy."

Your mother looked at Neteyam with a mixture of anger and gratitude. "I hope you mean that," she said before turning to leave the hut. Neteyam watched her leave before turning back to you and taking your hand in his.

This pregnancy was rapid, in just three months your belly had swollen so much that you could hardly move without the help of another person. Thanks to Mo'at's care, your fatigue had decreased and your physical condition had clearly improved so much that she allowed you to escape her surveillance for an evening.

With Neteyam, you had not gone very far for fear of not being able to return. You had simply settled in the heights of the camp, together, far from prying eyes. Your heavily pregnant belly sticking out in front of her, Neteyam was sitting beside you, his hand gently resting on the roundness of your belly as he spoke softly to the baby growing within you.

"You are my little miracle, my son," he whispered, his eyes filled with love and wonder. "I will do everything in my power to protect you and your mother. You are both the most precious things in the world to me."

You smiled up at Neteyam, your hand covering his as you both felt your baby's movements. “I can’t believe how much he has grown,” he said, his voice filled with wonder. “I can feel him kicking and moving inside you. It’s like he’s already a part of us.”

“I can’t wait to meet him,” you answered softly. “I know he’s going to be strong and brave, just like his father.”

Neteyam leaned down and kissed your forehead, his eyes full of love. “I promise to always be there for him, to protect him and guide him. He will always be my greatest treasure.”

Your heart swelled with love, and tears welled in your eyes, as you listened to Neteyam’s words. You knew without a doubt that he would be a devoted and loving father to your child.

As the moments ticked by, Neteyam and you lay together in peaceful silence, your love for each other and your unborn child filling the air around you.

-----

Neteyam paced outside of Mo'at's hut, his heart racing with anxiety. He couldn't bear to hear the sound of your screams echoing through the air. Every time you cried out in pain, his heart seemed to stop. Jake, who had been standing beside him, placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. "It's going to be alright, son. Your grandmother knows what she's doing."

But Neteyam couldn't shake the feeling of dread that seemed to be settling in his chest. He couldn't imagine life without you, and the thought of losing you during childbirth was almost too much to bear. Finally, the screams stopped, and Neteyam froze. For a moment, he couldn't move, couldn't speak. He was certain that his worst fears had come true.

But then Mo'at appeared in the doorway, a wide smile on her face. "You have a son, Neteyam. A strong, healthy son."

Neteyam walked into Mo'at's hut, his heart racing with excitement and nerves. As he approached the bed, he saw you, covered in sweat and tears, holding a tiny bundle in your arms. He rushed to your side, taking your hand in his own.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice shaking with emotion.

You nodded, tears streaming down your face as you smiled up at him. "We have a son," you whispered.

Neteyam's heart swelled with love and pride as he looked down at the small, blue-skinned baby nestled in your arms. He had a head full of jet-black hair, and big, bright eyes that seemed to take in everything around him. His tiny fingers were wrapped around your thumb, holding on tight.

Neteyam reached out a hand, gently brushing his son's fingers open so he could stroke his soft skin. "He's beautiful," he whispered, tears welling up in his own eyes.

You smiled at him, your own tears of joy and exhaustion mixing together. "He looks just like his father. He's our little miracle,” you said softly.

Neteyam leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, then to the top of his son's head. He knew that from that moment on, everything in his life would revolve around these two people, and he couldn't wait to spend the rest of his days loving and protecting them.

-----

Neteyam stood behind his son, his strong arms wrapped around the small child as he gently guided his hands on the bow. A sense of pride and nostalgia was swelling in his chest. He remembered the day his own father had first taught him how to hold a bow, the weight of it in his hands feeling like a rite of passage. The five year old looked up at his father with wide, curious eyes, taking in every movement and instruction with eagerness.

"That's it, my little hunter," Neteyam said with a soft smile. "Just like that. Now, let's see if you can hit the target."

The little boy nodded determinedly and focused on the distant target, taking a deep breath before releasing the arrow. It flew straight and true, hitting the center of the target with a satisfying thud.

Neteyam beamed with pride as he lifted his son off the ground, swinging him around in a joyful embrace. "Well done, son! You have the makings of a great hunter."

As they practiced together, the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the clearing. Neteyam couldn't help but sneak glances at you, who were watching them with a soft smile on your face. He knew that you were just as proud of your son as he was, and it warmed his heart.

As they wrapped up their lesson for the day, Neteyam lifted his son into his arms, giving him a warm embrace.

"I'm so proud of you, my little warrior," he whispered, planting a gentle kiss on his son's forehead.

The little boy giggled and snuggled closer, and Neteyam knew that this was exactly where he was meant to be - with his family, surrounded by love and joy.

#avatar #avatar the way of water #awow #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam imagines #avatar imagines #avatar imagine #jake sully #neytiri #blessed union

[swallowtail-lotus]

🔱Secret Lullaby {Poseidon x Goddess!Reader}🔱

Repost of my original post from my old blog.

God, just looking at him makes me want to kiss him 😍

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

You sat in the middle of your greenhouse, patting a small bunny that hopped in your lap. You watched the past few rounds of ragnarok with sad eyes, feeling dread inside.

Being the God/Goddess of peace wasn't easy.

You love humans and everything on Earth, as it is your home. Before you went to Valhalla, you used to live in a forest where no human dared to set foot in unless If they wanted a death wish.

Of course, you never brought harm to humans but you eventually left after Zeus found you and offered you to live with the gods.

Being the secretive being you are, you agreed but only if no deity disturbs you when you wanted to be left alone and to never let them know of your secret place.

So far, no God or Goddess has ever found your greenhouse. Even if they bothered to try, they couldn't find it. This was due to one of your masking spells, which was more effective to deities compared to the humans.

Thinking back on how the gods have tried to get answers out of you, but failed due to your ability to slip away fast enough. Those thoughts escalated to your past, where you were once filled with joy.

With your mother, who had lost her life to another God.

"I miss you, mother. So very much."

You thought, wiping away tears that slowly trickled down your face. You looked down at the bunny, who looked up and sat up. It leaned against your chest, trying to lean its face towards yours. You lifted the small bunny up and felt its face nuzzle yours, an attempt to cheer you up.

"Ah, thank you. I feel better now."

You cooed softly, patting its head with a sad smile. You felt something nudge your leg, something hard. You leaned forward to see a small harp near your right foot and a grey bunny pushing it towards your foot.

You held your hand over the harp, watching it levitate towards your hand. The grey bunny hopped on your right leg, nuzzling your waist while the white bunny copied the grey bunny.

"Such cuties."

You mumbled softly, watching them get comfortable on your lap and stopped to lay down. Your fingers hovered over the strings of your harp, slightly shaking from the sadness building up.

"Hope you're hearing this, mother..."

You muttered under your breath, strumming your harp slowly. Closing your eyes, you let yourself drown in the melodic music from your strumming. You opened your lips to sing quietly.

Soon, the animals in your greenhouse started to gather around, watching and listening to your voice. Then, the plants started swaying slowly to the music. At the end of the lullaby, a voice brought you out of your thoughts.

"What are you doing?"

Your eyes shot open at the sudden voice, growing wider when you saw who it was.

It was none other than Poseidon, the Sea God himself.

You stared at the God before you, internally panicking, mainly about how he knew of your greenhouse. You placed the harp down nervously, fiddling with your fingers.

"I-I was just playing a lullaby. Umm, how did you find my greenhouse?"

You squeaked out, feeling yourself shrink smaller when the God took a few steps forward, not too close to you.

"... It wasn't hard to follow you. I've known for a long time."

He answered, his emotionless face along with his voice sending chills down your spine. You knew very well he never speaks much to any being, even to his brothers. So him speaking to you now of all times baffled you. Truth be told, he has spoke to you more times than anyone else. But hearing him ask about your main hobby was strange.

The reason behind that was most likely because you were a Ruler, the Ruler of Nature.

"So you have. Never expected less from you, of course."

You spoke, gripping your clothes so tightly. Poseidon raised his eyebrows slightly, his shoulders dropping.

"....."

He kept silent, staring down at you with his dull eyes. Your head was down, but you knew he was staring. The sound of his boots clicking away got your attention. You held the bunnies close to you, standing up from your seat.

"See you, Lord Poseidon."

You whispered. Poseidon stopped at the entrance of your greenhouse, giving you the side eye glance.

".... Goodbye."

Those was the last words he let out before leaving. You stood in silence, a confused look on your face.

"What just happened?"

#record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok poseidon x reader #ror x reader #snv x reader #poseidon x reader

[theblueflower05]

Heavy In Your Arms

A/N: We didn't get enough time at High Camp. I swear, it was the perfect setting for hurt/comfort. Forever upset about it.

Word Count: 5.5K

Warnings: Explicit smut. Aged Up characters. Talks of PTSD and war. Injuries. Blood. Angst. Cursing. Oral Sex(male receiving). Riding. Service Top Neteyam. Reader with a praise kink.

Summary: You and Neteyam find moments of peace during the war. Neteyam x Fem! Omaticaya Reader

I was a heavy heart to carry,

My beloved was weighted down.

My arms around his neck,

My fingers laced a crown- Florence & The Machine

Life can change in an instant.

One moment, things are as they have always been. Your existence a well loved pattern, easy and comfortable in the Forests of Pandora.

You had been born after the Long War, after the evil Tawtute had been sent back to their dying planet. You had only ever known peace and kind humans like the scientist that lived in the rickety out post. You’d only ever known the rich and abundant rule of Toruk Makto, Jake led your people to victory and prosperity. The Omatikayan Village had been a beautiful one to grow up in, colorful and cheerful and thriving despite all that it had endured.

Your days had been filled with community and childlike wonder.

That had all changed when the Sky People returned. When they set fire to the Forests just to watch the Great Mother bleed.

Your naivety had been stolen, snatched away by uncontrollable circumstances.

By war.

High Camp is nestled deep within the Ayram Alusing hidden in a twisting impenetrable cave system.

It is bustling and busy and just bit cramped.

The Omatikaya are a resilient people and even through forceful uprooting had managed to make due of the space given. The Stronghold is littered with Canvas tents and woven mats. Small burning fires, and a larger one for the communal meals that are so desperately needed after long days battle.

You spend most of your time in the main healers keklu, working tirelessly with Mo’at and the other medicine leaders. You’d never been much of a healer, always more of a story teller. You’d get lost in the tales of old, in the songs of the ancient ones, but since the invasion, most had honed their medical craft.

It was all hands on deck, wherever you could be helpful you would be.

It’s good. Keeping your hands full is a good thing. It helps to distract your restless mind.

The War Party had left early in the morning- the sun still hiding behind the shadow of the eclipse, and had still not returned yet. You fear that it might be one of those missions, the kind that lasts days and leaves the village in shambles as they wait for the return of the warriors.

You’re grinding Ti’ku’klu seeds into a fine paste, your arm tired as you stare wordlessly into nothing.

The healers tent is quiet, filled with only low chatter and the crackling of the fire, the boiling of the pot that contains a potent medicine. One that needs to be kept hot and steaming. You cant seem to be present, to keep up with conversation when your mind is so far away- soaring over the forest. Focused on the unseen battle

This would be a dangerous one, you’d heard the whispers of the people. The humans were growing sick of the raids. They had heavy precautions laid out- would kill any Na’vi on sight. You trusted your Olo’eyktan whole heartedly, truly, you did.

But the thought of having to lay any more of your brothers and sisters to rest made bile raise in your throat like acid. There had been so much death, so much loss.

You sneak a peek at the woman next to you as she works in sorting bandages.

Zephya is only a few years older than you- and yet the light seems to be gone from her eyes. Dimmed down to something small and wilting. You’d never forget the piercing sound of her cries, echoing off the rock cave walls as her munxatan’s (husbands) body was brought back from the last raid.

Another round of nauseating anxiousness churns in your stomach.

You dont know if you could survive it…

Would you be forced to? Would this war force you to watch the ones you loved die?

The thought of losing your own lover is enough to send you free falling. Spiraling into your own mind.

“That is quite enough” Mo’at tuts her tongue in your direction and you stare at her with a wide, almost guilty expression. Had the Tsahik heard your thoughts? Sometimes you didnt doubt the elderly woman could, with all of her boundless knowledge and those all knowing amber eyes “You will destroy the paste, it is not meant to be so thin”

“Oh” you feel like dunce as you look down at the mortar and pestle in your hand “I apologize, I just wanted to make sure it was well mixed”

“Hmm” she doesn't call your bluff “Why dont you take a break. Go find more herbs, the fresh air wll clear your head. You’re no used to me here with thoughts so loud”

Her words are casual but her gaze is knowing and warm and you nod eagerly “Of course, Tsahik”

You’re happy for the break and the opportunity to stretch your legs, you stand quickly and exit the incense heavy area.

Everyone has gotten good at pretending.

At pretending they’re not terrified, at trying to go on with any semblance of normalcy. The scientists still gather near their trailers, facemasks on and typing away at holo tablets. The karyus’ still teach the younglings, their little giggles can be heard in the distance. You smile, a very practiced mask, at any you pass. Are pleasant. Friendly. Not betraying the inner turmoil you feel-

You’re jostled out of the heavy thoughts.

Nearly rushed straight on your ass, more like it.

“Oof-” the wind is knocked out of you as a small but solid weight collides with your side. You look down and find big golden eyes string up at you- golden eyes so familiar.

“Y/N! Hi!” Tuktirey is the youngest Sully, and probably the one you’ve always been the cloestst to. Back home, years ago, she’d become a bit enamored with you. More specifically, you’re weaving and jewelry crafting skills. Many teased that she was your shadow. “Look, look’it what I made”

You cant help but grin. Her joyful energy is contagious and you’re glad for the distraction. You take the necklace she shoves into your face delicately. Run your fingers over the rows of mis matched beads. She really is quite good.

“Very pretty, Tuk. You’re getting so good! Soon you;ll take my place- the whole clan will be trampling over themselves to wear one of your pieces” You’re words make her blush, make the smile on her face go a bit shy and bashful.

She looks so much like her brother it hurts.

“I did that thing you showed me! You’re right- sometimes the bigger beads need the little ones to anchor them”

Tuk is rarely quiet, always a babbling brook but even she isnt immune to the tense atmosphere that looms, to the toretoure that is waiting for the warriors to return. She talks about the necklace, but her tail flicks nervously behind her. At her side, a carved wooden Toruk toy hangs in her loose grip.

You figure, maybe you can distract her too.

You reach for the toy and she holds tight to it before sighing. You’re probably going to take it, she thinks. Tell her to stop being annoying. Chastise her the way that others had when she’d tried to get them to play with her. All day long, everyone had turned their heads or sighed in annoyance when she’d approached-

You raise the wooden Toruk above her head- and let out an undignified squawk. Your best impression of the mighty beast. It’s dismal, but it seems to satisfy the little girl who instantly breaks out into giggles.

“You better run, Tuk Tuk” you grown payfully, sending the toy into a nosedive “Before I eat you whole”

She shrieks and sets out running in the opposite direction and take after her, ignoring the stares. Should you be back in the medicine tent helping? Maybe. You’d rather play with the seven year old instead.

The two of you play for a while, until your thighs burn and your lungs hurt from laughing. You dont have the endurance of a child, she runs absolute circles around you. She’s fast and agle and quite obviously takes Neytiri’s lessons to heart, even at her young age. You can only use your size to you’re advantage, picking her writing squirming body up and spinning her round-

The horn is loud and echos through the rock walls of the cavernous case.

Both yours and Tuk’s ears swivel, perk up and stand to attention.

There it is. The calls of your people. The sounds of ikran wings flapping.

Tuk writhes in your hold, the back of her head connecting with your lip painfully as she hollers joyfully “They’re back!”

Shes off then, only sparing you a quick glance as you seem to stand there in daze, rubbing your slightly split lip lightly as your stomach does somersaults.

“Come on!” The little one hollers back at you and your feet carry you forward, seemingly of their own volition.

The crowds are building as the people make their way for the edge, where ikrans land by the dozen. Carrying the warriors on their back. Along the way, Kiri and Spider join you. Eagerly bouncing along, following an over animated Tuk.

Excitement and dread bubbles in your stomach, a horribly potent and toxic mix. It’s always like this when they return. When he returns. You’re so anxious to see him, physically there. Alive. So anxious that he might not be-

Your eyes are peeled for the familiar swirling green and blue patterns of Atanzaw, his ikran.

“Mom!” Tuk screeches, of course she spots them first.

Your eyes follow her,

Straight to him.

Neteyam.

He dismonts his ikran, alot less gracefully then his mother did. His actions sluggish and unlike him- it only takes you a moment to notice how injured he is. The bleeding wounds and bruises that litter his body arent pretty and hes limping, not putting his full weight on his right thigh. His face in smeared war paint- blacks and yellows and greens. They make him look intense, as he stangs tall and muscular and still fully dressed in his tsamsiyu(warrior)garb.

When his gaze meets yours your breath gets stuck in your throat.

Usually when he returns they’re bright. The adrenalin of the fight still cursing through his veins like wildfire- this time thats drained. His eyes are filled with barley concealed dread. Sharp with pain.

Your fingers itch and your chest aches, the invisible string that ties you to him taught. You want nothing more then to go to him-

“Sully’s, fall in” Jake’s voice is booming and stern. All Olo’eyktan. Marine. War leader. You can barley recognize him like this. So far away from the carefree doting father he’d always been.

-Its a small thing. A barely there shake of Netryam’s head but it sends a clear message. He doesn't want you to approach. When he turns away from you, giving you the necessary but cold shoulder your unsettled stomach lurches.

It’s like it plays out in slow motion, you watch the family from the edge. An outsider. Not welcome in their obviously private conversation. Even Spider, a human, get’s to be closer than you do.

You’re unwelcome.

The heated words. The way that Jake scolds his sons, you’re not supposed to be privy to it.

“Jesus, I let you two geniuses lead a fleet and you disobeyed direct orders!”

Those words hurt you, for him. You know that they must peirce right through Neteyam. He still hasnt looked back in your direction and you are sure he doesnt want you to bare witness to any of it.

You slink away, slowly falling back. Fading into the background of loved ones reuniting. Warriors returning, alive and dead. The clan welcoming them back with open arms. You wish, as you so often do, that you could welcome Neteyam the same. That you could run into his arms. Hold him the way you ache to after these difficult and dangerous missions-

You convince yourself that you are content with just knowing that he is alive, and make your way back to the healers tent where your presence is wanted.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It gets so cold in the mountains. Frigidly so.

The wind whips through the caves, leaving a bone deep chill in their wake. You keep the fire at the center of your tent going all night long, and can normally be found crouching at it’s hearth. It’s been raining on and off all day, torrential down pour to drizzles- from the sound it seems as though it has finally stopped. Quieted down.

You wonder if the sky is clear and the stars are bright. You miss climbing high into the trees after the evening eclipse. Miss gazing at the constellations, miss basking in the Pandoran night and listening to the sound of the forests.

Mo’at had sent you home, demanding you get some sleep.

It had been three days since the soldiers had returned and they had been very busy. Full of tending to the wounded, and organizing for the dead. You’d thrown yourself headfirst into anytask that was given to you. Kept yourself busy. Useful.

You didnt have the time to mope and obsess over a man that was not yours.

That is what you told yourself at least.

This…thing that you and Neteyam shared didn't have a name or a definition. It had started out of loneliness, out of the desperation for comfort. Before the humans had come back and brought their war upon the clan, you dont think the future Olo’eyktan had ever really looked at you twice. Violence and hurt had pushed you into eachothers arms, both of you seeking companionship. Someone to weather the storm with.

It wasnt love. Not to him, you know that. He would marry a woman with high standing one day- one that could be his match. Become Tsahik.

That wouldnt be you.

For Eywa’s sake, you could barely do stitches. You messed up simple tasks like making salves. You would not delude yourself into thinking it was anything more. Many Na’vi couple without mating, pleasure isn't stigmatized in your community. That was all it was. A need for pleasure. Your body satiates him and that is all.

You cant go looking for him. Begging for his time or his touch.

So you sit by your fire, thread your necklaces, and long for the stars.

You’re humming a tune to yourself, something soft and gentle and melodic when theres a sudden shift. The canvas wall of your tent shakes and your stiffen, reaching for your knife that lies on the makeshift table next to your bed-

Neteyam slips through the flap- easy as anything. Smoothly, his motions fluid from all of those years of training.

Your eyes and mouth are wide open, ears lying low to your head.

“Hi” the man grins, boyish and handsome as ever.

As though he hadnt just broken into your home. It’s not like the two of you hadnt done this before, he’d spend many nights sneakily tucked inside your tent but he usually came through the front entrance.

“Vonva!(asshole)”you hiss at him, exasperated “You- ugh! I couldve stabbed you!”

He’s so handsome it makes you sick. He’s so tall and broad, a few of his braids falling into his face as his eyes sparkle with mirth “That would not be very nice of you, what have I done to deserve such a fate?”

“Breaking and entering is grounds for stabbing” you huff “you scared me!”

Neteyam steps forward a bit, hands out stretching to you, tone gentle “Hey, I didnt mean to scare you. I just wanted to see you is all, Im sorry”

You hate the way that you’re so easy for him. He ignores you for days, and then shows up unannounced and you’re jumping at any and all attention he may give you.

The way that as his large hands engulf the tops of your arms, you lean into his touch greedily.

“It’s fine. It's just- very late. I wasn't expecting anyone” you try to keep your tone even “I was actually about to go to bed”

“Oh?” Neteyam wonders, his tail flicking behind him “Can I join you?”

Your heart speeds up, if thats even possible. Both at his words and his tone. The insinuation right there. He had spent too much time in your bed that really, it shouldn't be a question. You'd always welcomed him into your nest of blankets, your warm arms. In between your soft thighs-

“I'm not sure that would be a good idea” you respond, stepping out of his hold.

Neteyam sags a bit, surprised. His ears swivel and his smile weans, tugging downwards at the corners of his full lips “Not a good idea? Why not?”

You shrug, not able to look directly at him. Instead focusing on his shoulders. His abdomen. He’s still all banged up, the bandaging covering his bruises are expertisley wrapped. Done by the Tsahik herself, obviously.

It’s the perfect excuse.

“You’re still hurt,” you insist ”You need to be careful, you don't want to reopen anything”

A smooth chuckle escapes him and makes a tingle run down your spine. He reaches out again, this time he grabs at your hand, leading it from its place awkwardly at your side to his chest. Pressing your palm gently against his warm skin.

“I'd like to stay with you tonight, if you’ll let me” Neteyam starts, you can feel the vibrations of his strong voice in your palm, pressed against the muscle “I may need you to be a little bit gentle with me though, paskalin”

You're quiet, lips quirked, stuck in your head for a moment as your fingers lightly trace over one of his stripes.

“Y/N, hey-” He seems to be more serious than before as he urges you to look at him “I'm not sure what’s wrong, but If you want me to go I will”

Everything in your body, your soul, protests at his words. There is no part of you that wants him to leave.

You’re being so stupid.

Neteyam could have anyone. Anyone. And he’s here, with you. So what if he doesnt love you. You have to take whatever you can get. You dont want him to find solace with anyone else, dont want him to leave and never return-

You lean in, where your hand is, on his strong chest and place a kiss to the edge of the bandaging. Its a small little thing, a barley there brush of your lips but still. When you look up at him through your lashes you know you must make quite the sight.

“Stay” you urge. “I want you to stay with me tonight,” everynight. ”Please?”

He looks unsure for just a moment, clearly thrown off by your conflicting mood, before he nods. He cups the side of your face then, forcing you to make eye contact with him. No matter how uncomfortably intense- you cant turn away.

“Can I kiss you?” His words make you quake. He hadnt asked, so explicitly, for months. Since the two of you were still fumbly and newly exploring eachothers bodies.

It makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, makes you giddiously nervous. You nod, way too hard “Mhmm”

And then he’s bending down, having to crouch because of how much taller he is, to capture your lips with his own.

Its always so good.

His mouth and the way it tastes and the way it makes you feel. Neteyam seems so sweet, everyone in the clan knows him as the Golden Boy. The perfect soldier- in privacay, in these stolen moments of intimacy, he’s anything but.

His kisses are dirty, all demanding tongue and nipping fangs. He kisses like a man whos trying to get his dick wet. Like he wants to pick you up, crush you to him. Rut into you-

And normally he would. Normally he tosses you around like nothing but a child’s ragdoll(and you let him), but he’s still hurt. Still tender and healing. When you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tug, trying to climb him like a tree, he hisses in pain,.

“Shit” you pull away from his mouth, your lips wet with his saliva “Sorry, I didnt mean to”

He just shakes his head, nuzzling at your cheek “It’s fine, I’m okay”

“Im hurting you” you argue.

“You’re not. Just- be gentle, okay?” Neteyam urges, trying to lean back into the kiss “Grandmother thinks they’ll heal quickly, but my ribs-” he breaks himself off, laughing a little strained. “I fucked them up pretty good”

You frown.

He always does this. Always downplays his pain. You will have none of it, you grab his hand and tug “Come, I will make you tea”

Neteyams hairless brows raise “You dont have to, I’m really fine”

“Bah” you lead him to your bed and push gently on his shoulders until he sits. “Enough, it is no trouble”

You keep an ornate clay kettle next to the fire, boiling water always ready. He watches you as you fiddle with the many little jars in your arsenal, collecting herbs here and there. Steeping them in the hot water before pouring him a steaming cup.

“Here- it is bitter, but it will dull the pain”

Neteyam accepts the tea with a small smile “Irayo(thank you)”

It’s nice having him in your space. In your bed amongst all of your softest things as the fire crackles and illuminates the tent in a warm glow.

The shadows it casts over his angular face make him look haunting. So beautiful.

You like to take care of things. Instruments. Broken pottery. Children. It comes naturally to you.

You dote on him even though he protests, check his bandages and make him drink the whole cup of strong leaf tea, before he lies down. You're perched beside him, still on the edge of the bed mat.

“I didn't come here to be nursed, Y/N” he sighs as you rub salve on one of his nastier bruises.

“Humor me” you reply wryly, your dainty fingers all over him.

It takes him a while to relax, as it always does.

But oh, its your favorite thing.

Watching his walls come down and the facade of Olo’eyktan in training slip. Neteyam is funny and witty and a downright gossip. You enjoy talking to him as much as you enjoy getting fucked by him.

You like that when given the opportunity and the ear to do so; he loves to talk. About any and everything. His deep voice is like a blanket, warming you up from the inside out.

“I feel bad. I sneak in here; scare you and then make you take care of me” He snorts, “You must be so sick of me”

“No” you reassure with gentle touches “Never that”

You dont really know what Neteyam sees in you.

You’re pretty enough- but far from the gorgeous warriors and dancers that throw themselves at him. But when he looks at you, like he is now, you know there must be something. Something that turns those eyes of his to molten amber. They’re hungry, you’ve never seen him look at anything the way he looks at you. Except maybe the prey that ends up victim to his arrows.

He makes you want to be good to him. Be good for him.

“I enjoy taking care of you” you whisper as you trace the leather cords of his tweng, your fingertips dipping dangerously below them. “Can I take care of you tonight, Neteyam? You want me to?”

Neteyam nods slowly, making room for you as you climb carefully over him. Spread his legs enough for you to settle between them.

You cant help it, cant help how much you touch. You cant get enough of the feeling of his strong body under your hands. All of that corded muscle, all of his pretty deep tahini speckled skin. His strong calves, his well built thighs.

When you reach where he’s hard, straining against his cloth, his eyes flutter closed. You rub him until he chubs up, all plump and hard. Until a patch of wetness starts to darken the cloth-

“Help me a little, sayrip(handsome)”you urge as you tug on the strings of his tweng. Neteyam lifts his slim hips, helps you shimmy it down his thighs-

You’ve seen him naked more times then you can count, now. But still. You’re always struck by it.

His cock springs free- thuds against his well toned lower stomach. Drooling and pulsing, the tanhi there exceptionally bright. He’s so pretty, so vulnerable that it goes to your head. Your leaning in, tongue first-

“Wait,” Neteyam gruffs, “I want to see you too”

Ah.

Neteyam was very partial to your body. He’d told you many times- would try to wrangle you out of your skirt whenever he got the chance.

You smile, raising up on your knees before tugging the gossamer top off, over your head, Your nipples are hard and peaked, reacting to the cold. You run your fingertips over them, knowing that he likes a show. He likes to watch. He props himself, arm behind his head as he does so, it feels so lewd to play with your breasts for him. To trail your hands slowly down your tummy, to your full hips- tugging on the strings of your own tweng.

When the mound of your pussy is revealed he groans, he can see the way your slick shines in the low fire light.

“Good Mother” Neteyam’s rough and demanding as he yanks on you, pulls you into a kiss “You’re so fucking sexy”

His kiss is fervent and you could so easily lose yourself to them- you know what he wants. He’s already inching closer to your hot wet slit, his big fingers kneading at your plush asscheeks.

“Lemme take care of you” your mumble is insistent, and he sighs. Letting you pull away. Letting you re situate yourself between his legs.

He just lays back flat once more, a lazy grin on his face. “Okay, baby. Take care of me”

You’d always loved giving pleasure with your mouth, and lovers you’d had before had told you how good you were at it. You liked the taste and feel of a heavy cock on your tongue.

With Neteyam, as everything seems to be, it’s different. You dont just like giving him head, you love it.

You love the way that he jerks when you give his rosy tip that first little lick. You love the salty tang of his precum, so much that you spread it all over. Your lips, your cheeks. You rub his cock along your face, nuzzling it. Your cheeks, chin and nose wet with him. You love the way it stretches your lips as you take him into your mouth- he’s the biggest you’ve ever had and it pushes you to your limit. The hinge of your jaw aching as you force him down your throat.

“You’re such a good girl for me” Neteyam praises you, all choppy. His long fingers tangled in your waist length hair.

That is what you adore the most.

The Omaticayan prince is so vocal. He’s all whimpery moans and deep gritty groans. He lets you know exactly what he likes and doesn't like. And he rains down praise on you like its his job.

You’re his good girl. His sweet berry. His little whore..

You take it so well. So- ah- determined for him. You ram him down your tight convulsing throat ,until you’re sobbing around his dick. Never trying to pull away. Eager to get him off.

It is the most shameful position you’ve ever been put in. You’re addicted to the way that me makes you feel- you could never allow yourself to be this with anyone else.

“I-Im close” He warns as though that's not exactly what you want.

“Good” you hum, before diving back in. Suckling on the head and the sensitive sides of his shaft over and over. Just like you know he likes it.

It doesn't take long at all, you can feel him twitching n your mouth. His balls, so full and swollen, start to pull up, taught and ready to blow.

“Oh fuck, Y/N. Fuck”

He gasps as he knots his fingers at your scalp, as he holds on for dear life, his hips swiveling madly. His belly concaving with his heaving, rapid breaths as as his orgasm rips through him.

It’s a good one. You can tell. He’s biting his lips bloody and grinding his head back into your pillows, eyes tightly closed as he rides the waves of pleasure. The whole time, he fists your hair, holding your face to his crotch.

You take his cum, all of it. Popping the tip on your mouth and catching the thick spurts with your tongue. He tastes so good, it feels so intimate to get to have him like this. You close your eyes and savor it, dont pull off until he's twitching and whining with over sensitivity.

You sit back on your haunches, wiping your messy mouth clean with the back of your hand and assessing the damage.

Neteyam is all shivery, his arm thrown over his face as he comes down from the high. He’s still struggling to catch his breath and you cant help the pride that

“You feeling any better, baby?” the human term of affection rolls off your lips, smug and sultry and he laughs behind his arm.

It takes a few moments, but he finally collects himself “You are way too good at that” he’s told you before, but repeats it as he pulls you close. You’re perched in his lap, his strong arms around your waist as he holds you close.

“I like watching you” you admit between the pecking kisses “I like the way you come”

He smiles into your mouth, you can feel his sharp canines on your lips “That’s my good girl”

You full body shiver at the praise, gritting your forehead against his and breathing through your nose in an attempt not to lose it. You're gushing between your legs, your thighs a sticky mess and your cunt swollen and blood hot.

“Your turn, huh? Come on, I know that pussy has to be needy. You want me to eat it?” Neteyam whispers hotly in your ear and you just groan.

And while his skills with his tongue are legendary, you’re feeling particularly empty, needing to be full of him after weeks of distance “Mmm, no. Want you inside of me”

“Can do” he affirms, his hands going to your hips, nudging you “Lay down, I’ll fuck you, paskalin. I’ll fuck you so good. Wanna’ stretch you out”

“Wait” you press a hand to his chest when you notice the grimace on his face. The one he’s trying to hide as he attempts to lift you “You’re still hurting, Nete”

“I’ll be fine, I’ve got you” He assures, stubbornly “I want you to feel good, too”

He’s not the only one who's stubborn. You wiggle out of his grip, pressing down firmly on his chest.

“We can try something else” you suggest, really not wanting him to hurt himself even worse. Neteyam can get…intense when hes fucking you. It’s all very physical, he pours buckets of sweet down onto you as he works your body.

“You want to get fucked” He reminds you, his hips jerking up pointedly so that you can feel his erection between your legs.

Eywa, yes you do. You want him, you want him to carve his way into your body. To bully your tight walls until they accommodate his wide girth.

You bite your lip and reach for his length, pumping his cock thats still wet with your spit before leaning in close so that you can whisper in his ear “We’re just going to have to compromise”

Neteyam is huffy until you sink down onto him and ride him until neither of you can formulate thoughts.

Until you’re boneless, tangled limbs and buried under your quilts.

The afterglow is your favorite.

Neteyam is always so gentle and tender after sex. He holds you, lets you lie your head on his chest and listen to the steady thrumming beat of his heart as he plays with your hair. The only thing that could make this better is if he reached for your kuru. Is if you got to experience Tsaheylu with him-

It’s not fair,

How could he expect you not to fall in love with him?

The quiet stretches on. The fire is dim and dying and the tent is mostly black, night creeping in and covering you both in darkness.

“I’m sorry” his voice almost startles you, his words confusing and unexpected “I’m sorry I ignored you- the day we came back. I was trying to figure out how to calm my dad down. He was so pissed and Lo’ak’s attitude only makes it worse-”

You don't say anything. You just keep listening to his strong heart.

“I didn't mean to hurt your feelings”

You don't respond for a while. You don't want to shatter the atmosphere that is shimmy fly wing delicate “I was just happy to see you alive. It terrifies me, that you’ll leave on one of these raids and never come back. I dont- I wouldn't know what to do if that happened”

“I'm not going to leave, Y/N” his arms tighten around you and you close your eyes, relishing the way he holds on to you. It makes you feel like maybe you're not the only one desperate for this to never end.

“Do you promise?” You sound young, look so small in his big arms.

“I promise”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Weeks later, The Sully’s leave the tribe.

They’re running, fleeing for the good of the Omaticaya people- that is what Jake says. He claims it is for the best. You have never doubted his prowess as Olo’eyktan until that moment.

The tribe mourns, falls into great sorrow as the family says their goodbyes.

You can not bear to look. You drown in your tears and hide in the crowd. Will not meet Neteyams gaze no matter how much he tries to get you to.

When he mounts his ikran and takes to the skies you feel something inside of you shatter. He disappears into the vast horizon.

Neteyam leaves.

You were a fool to believe he’d keep his promise.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Welp. Um hi guys lol. I was like let me post something short and sweet to come back with before I start hitting you guys with all of my Kinktober prompts next month. Somehow I ended up with a 5k angst filled what could be first chapter of a series. LOL I HATE MYSELF AND THE FACT THAT I CANT WRITE ONE SHOTS.

I literally don't have the time to work on another story, but if this one was a little too much angst, I'd be glad to give us a fix it Part Two.

This will be the last kind of stand alone update until after October. If you havent alread, check out Luna’s( @pandoraslxna )Kinktober prompt list. She is such a gem for cultivating it and helping keep this fandom alive and thriving.

As usual, please leave me some feedback. Good, bad(not mean though lol my psyche’s very fragile rn) I want to hear your thoughts!

Love ya, pretty babies!

#neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam angst #neteyam x na'vi!reader #aged up neteyam #neteyam sully

[bones4thecats]

What If They Had A Family? - Hazbin Hotel (PT.1)

Type of Writing: Random Idea Name: What If They Had A Family? (PT.1) Characters: Sir Pentious and Zestial (+ Valentino and Vox LINK) Idea-Giver: Random Thoughts

A/N: The reader in this piece is specifically referred to as female since they were written to have given birth to children. But, the pronouns will still be gender-neutral since I write in that format easier. By the way, this has gone through so much editing it's insane, so I hope you guys enjoy it!

⚠️ Trigger Warnings: Minor Swearing and Death ⚠️ Spoilers for: S1 ⚠️

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Snake-Demon! Reader ; Black Mamba Snake

🐍 Sir Pentious and you met when you were children back in the 1800s

🐍 You were one of the children to a higher-ranked family in your hometown, while Pentious was under your family's thumb, much to your annoyance

🐍 He and you bonded over your love for mechanisms, especially those that have caused harm. For some weird reason, you guys would just pull a worm out of the ground and use it for an experiment, it was right there! Why not?

🐍 Due to your closeness, you and the former human had gotten married and begun to start your family quite early on in life, maybe around your early 20s of so

🐍 As you both aged, so did your children, though they sadly passed away earlier in life due to catching a then-dangerous illness, scarlet fever

🐍 Pentious had involved himself to much into his inventions afterwards that when you both had died, your envy of people's happy lives and his sins for his inventions ended up banishing you both to hell

🐍 You guys had made your way through a lot, and when he came home elated with the news that Vox had recruited him to spy on the Hotel and detect any kind of information from Alastor, you had started to get a hint angry. Why was he believing the words of a master manipulator? Who knows...

🐍 When he was found out, you were so close to going to V-Tower and ripping that moth-dick-sucking bastard a new ass

🐍 But, your husband had held you back and had asked you what you thought about redemption, you know, getting to join Heaven and maybe see your long-lost children once again

🐍 Jumping at the idea, your tiny hat on your head's eye had sparkles as Pentious' had tiny hearts as you hugged him and gave him love-filled words

🐍 It took a lot of work on your behalf, due to being a fairly aggressive person, but, when your husband had gunned it for his ship, you went right after him and hugged him tightly as he mumbled the final word you thought you'd ever hear of his; Fire.

🐍 As you awoke in a brighter land, you had looked around and noticed your husband, grabbing his hand you allowed your smoother-feeling fangs to be revealed as two angels stared in shock and glee

🐍 Wait- angels?!

" You must be redeemed souls! This is so cool! I'm Emily, one of the Seraphs of Heaven, it's so nice to meet you guys! " " Uhm- it's nice to meet you as well, my dear. I'm Y/N and this is my husband Sir Pentious. "

🐍 While Emily had taken you and Pentious away from Sera to give her some space to think, she smiled at you and you sighed when you heard the echo of a young girl's voice, your daughter's voice come out

" Y/N? Someone seems to be calling for you. "

🐍 Hearing a deflating noise and sniff coming from your dearest, you looked at him and saw he was crying as he held onto a small being, a young girl with his matching color scheme but a physical form that matched you

🐍 It was your daughter... your oldest one

" Mom/Papa! You're both here! (M/N) and (F/N) and gonna be so happy when they see you guys! Come on! "

🐍 Tears pricked your eyes as her cute slit pupils looked into your with the same sparkles as she held when she passed away so many years ago

🐍 At that moment, you fell to your knees and pulled your husband with you, hugging your daughter and him tightly as Emily squealed internally at the cute scene

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Insect-Demon! Reader ; Firefly / Lightning Bug

🕷️ Due to being from multiple dozens of years before really anyone left alive in Hell, you and Zestial had a very special bond from life; marriage

🕷️ You and him had a fairly well-received settlement when alive, and that had carried on into death

🕷️ But, there was one thing that you hadn't really thought about for a while; your children, two boys and two girls

🕷️ After you had died, all four of your children had survived until their old ages, and when they finally fell into the same plot hole that you and their father had, you graciously accepted them into your family's now shared domain in this retched land

🕷️ Your husband, Zestial, was an overlord while you had the same amount of power and just never really saw fit to use it, after all, you didn't have much to care for other than your family's safety

🕷️ Zestial could take the reins here

🕷️ One night, he had come home carrying something inside of his flesh-jacket, making you cock an eyebrow as your wings slightly shook, allowing a dimly-lit green light to emerge from your midsection and tiny 'tail'

" Mine own loveth, what doth thee has't inside of thy doublet? " " I shalt showeth thee. But, thee might not but gage to not obtaineth thy ang'r and showeth t to me. " " I crosseth mine own heart and desire to kicketh the bucket again, and I'll sticketh a partisan through mine own chest. "

🕷️ Opening the flesh-covering a small rodent-demon, specifically a chinchilla, had come outside, their large and silver-coated ears sticking to their head in slight fear at the sight of a large insect-demon such as yourself

🕷️ The antenna on your head slightly raised as you stared down at the appearing hell-born, how in the name of Satan did a child manage to get here?

" Zestial, wherefore is th're a bawbling issue standing in front of me? Prithee bid me thee didst not abuduct that gent... " " Oh marry nay. I wast just taking a stroll aft'r the latest ov'rl'rd meeting and hadst cometh across the young thing standing th're while mumbling in our tongue. I couldn't just leaveth that gent th're, yond'd beest far to malapert. "

🕷️ Smiling at your husband and kneeling down to look the child in their large black eyes, you then asked him the question that would make your family even larger than it was before;

" Wouldst thee liketh to stayeth with us, young sir? "

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Link to Valentino and Vox Post:

What Are They Like As Parents? - Hazbin Hotel

#Hazbin Hotel #The Hazbin Hotel #Overlords #Demons #Sinners #Hell #Hazbin Hotel x Reader #The Hazbin Hotel x Reader #Overlords x Reader #Demons x Reader #Sinners x Reader #Hell x Reader #S/O! Reader #F! Reader #GN! Reader #Demon! Reader #Sinner! Reader #Hazbin Sir Pentious #Hazbin Sir Pentious x Reader #Hazbin Zestial #Hazbin Zestial x Reader #Hazbin Valentino #Hazbin Valentino x Reader #Hazbin Vox #Hazbin Vox x Reader

[blue-sadie]

Tears Of Gold

Neteyam Sully x Human Reader

Prt 1. Prt 2

Summary: he didn't realize his feelings till it was to late and he regrets it ever since

Warning: reader death, asshole neteyam

Yn pov

It felt cold and dark even though there was light, even though I was surrounded by navi and friends I felt desolate, even though I was with family it didn't feel like home nothing ever did.

It was never was the same after we moved to the ocean no one was the same, kiri was more distant, neytiri was more angry while jake was more stricked with us while tuk was the same but she missed home, lo'ak followed tsireya around like a lost puppy and neteyam who acted as if we weren't friends to hang out with his new 'friends'.

I was left by my self most days except the ones where kiri felt guilty i was always alone or when I had to help neytiri with a few things but it was a very rare occasion.

"You forgot me again" I murmured to neteyam as he sat down beside me "oh sorry" he sighed out again before it fell into silence "what happened to u-" I whispered but was interrupted by nyx a navi girl who was one of the best fishers they have and the one who had eyes for neteyam "come on neteyam" she called out sweetly gesturing him over and he left without a goodbye or a look.

All I ever did here was sit around because no one wants to teach a 'demon' how to help or work around the village so all I do is sit in the sand making small shell bracelets and necklaces.

I stared into the water as it rose and descended on the shore watching as shells appeared and disappeared due to the moving sand i sat there waiting, waiting for a sign or something to happen i was frozen in a thoughtless daze staring into the water as the sun sunk behind the horizon, the water was illuminated by the glowing plants underneath the surface it was always a sight to see.

I don't know how long I was stuck there till I felt a presences beside me, he cleared his throat for me to acknowledge him "mom is looking for you" he murmured not taking his eyes off of me "she isn't my mom" I muttered but instantly regretted my words neytiri was nothing but nice to me but I could always feel her eyes burning stare into the back of my scull when I wasn't looking or the silent mutters of 'demon' under her breath it made me feel like a freak.

"Whats wrong" neteyam asked settling beside me, I finally broke "I don't belong here nete" I said glancing between him and the water "I never belonged here" I whispered as tears glossed my eyes neteyam listened not making a sound, he was scared because he didn't know what to do he used to and he feels guilty for letting you feel this way "i-i" he tried to speak but didn't know what to say.

"You were the only one who really felt like family now your a stranger too" I cried as the tears slid down my cheeks, he wanted to wipe them away and tell you that he still loves you but he knows that was a lie he used to but doesn't anymore he loves nyx.

"I wanna go home" I sobbed bringing my knees up to my chest " you are home yn" he whispered laying one of his hands onto my shoulder i let out a dry laugh as I shook my head "this isn't my home it never was" my throat was dry and sore "come on yn don't think like that" he rumbled as he moved in front of me taking my head into his hands using his thumbs to wipe my tears away "how about we hang out tomorrow for the whole day" he murmurs staring into my eyes "ok" he smiled as I answered him "Come on let's go" he smiled helping me up.

[Next day]

I woke up and ate some breakfast before going to find neteyam who was up and about i neared the his usual spot when I heard them and stopped dead in my tracts "why do you hang out with that demon nete" nyx asked harshly and my heart ached I was the only one he let call him nete.

"I feel sorry for her I truly do or I'd just leave her in the dust" he laughed dryly my hand quickly covered my mouth covering up a sob I stumbled back knocking over a few buckets causing them to notice me.

Neteyam looked at me with guilt and opened his mouth to speak but I just shook my head before running, running away and not looking back, I ran down the shore far away from the village.

I only stopped when my legs gave out falling to my knees with a thud I roughly wiped my tears trying to stop crying but I just couldn't "why" I cried "why" I whaled loudly.

I sat for awhile slowly coming down and being thankful no one came after me "I thought you were different neteyam" I cried rocking myself trying to calm down was our whole friendship a lie were those things he was saying really true.

"Yn yn" I heard multiple voices calling out to me in the distance but I didn't want to be found so I got up and started moving away from them.

Neteyam pov

"What the hell is wrong with you" dad yelled at me as we searched along the beach for yn "I don't know" I whispered I felt guilty but I don't know it was because I was caught or that I said those things "ma jake look" mom pointed at the faded human foot prints "let's go" dad yelled as we started running down the beach.

Yn pov

I was climbing on the rocks that aligned the shore maneuvering myself carefully not to fall but it was becoming harder with the tide rising making some rocks wet and dangerous.

"Yn" I turned abruptly on a rock and screamed as my foot got caught in a crack I fell over scraping my knees before wracking my head against the rock damaging my mask "fuck fuck fuck" I cursed trying to cover the crack.

"Yn" neteyam yelled as he ran over to me his eyes widening as he saw the crack that was starting to grow bigger and bigger "fuck yn where is your spare" he asked his hands running over my waist and back trying to find my spare "I don't have one" I said trying to stay calm and not breathe to fast.

"Dad dad over here" he called out but I already started feeling light headed and sick "i-i can't neteyam" I murmured He carefully cradled my body against his "I'm so sorry" he whispered as his eyes filled with tears.

I lifted my hand up to his face gently caressing his face "I love you neteyam" I said weakly as my hand began to fall but he caught it with his own and kept it by his face "no don't do this" he yelled but I only heard it as a whisper.

I closed my eyes sucking in my last breathe

"goodbye".

#avatar #avatar way of water #avatar pandora #avatar x reader #avatar x reader angst #avatar x human reader #avatar x human reader angst #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader angst #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x human reader angst #reader death

[witchie-writings]

HEY HEY HEY HEY HEYYYYY

ok i wanna do sum short if request are closed please ignore :)

King Ghidorah x human! reader who can hear far away kinda like dolores from encanto? One-shot or HC what ever you prefer 🙃

“Tonight. He wants 5 babies.” -Dolores

More than happy to oblige, Anon! Not a lot of King Ghidorah HCs around, so I suppose I got to support what I can lol. Had to make it short because TUMBLR

Ah, King Ghidorah, my long lost love. The False King, Destroyer of Worlds, Monster Zero, the Death Song of Three Storms… ends up with a human mate. Quite unexpected, very unexpected. The mere thought of Ghidorah wooing a human to become his mate was just absurd to Monarch scientists: who was this person, why did they become Ghidorah’s mate, how did they become Ghidorah’s mate?! All these unanswered questions, and they definitely weren’t going to be able to grab answers from the walking hurricane himself, or more specifically, the heads.

With having a human as his mate, Ghidorah has to be careful, ungodly amounts of careful, but if they possess the unique ability to be able to hear noises from leagues away? Ichi is surprised the human hasn’t gone insane from all of the over stimulants, and is genuinely worried about their health because of this power. 

Ichi is the head that took the longest to warm up to, but he is the head that cares the most about the well-being of his mate. Whenever he could, Ichi would lean down, tenderly nudging his mate with concern practically brimming from his golden gates; his tongue would flick out, grazing over his mate, speaking through his actions as he cannot convey words. If Nii or San, specifically Nii, attempt to do any sort of skit in an attempt to irritate or get a reaction from their shared mate, Ichi would be the one to harshly bite into one of their horns, yanking them up and emitting warning growls from his throat as a vague threat should they continue to pester their S/O. 

God, Ichi would be borderline trying to make as little noise as possible (for a god damn Kaiju) for his S/O’s sake. I imagine with that sort of hearing, you could accidentally burst your eardrums, as to hear that far, you gotta learn to heighten your hearing to travel across that distance; one wrong step, and you could have a ruptured ear. Ichi would piece that together pretty quickly, and just… try to tell his other heads to shut it. Minimal blinking, minimal breathing, minimal everything in general. He just wants his S/O to be comfortable.

Then, there’s Nii. Oh, my sweet lovable Nii. Ever the aggressor and one to cause chaos, he’d be absolutely overbearing to where he’d be causing so much noise in an attempt to help his S/O. He’d blow up at Ichi or San for the smallest of things - they’re being too loud, so he’d attempt to bully them into shutting up, then start a fight with Ichi and that’s a whole clownfest in itself. Nii would be the head that took the second longest to warm up to his new S/O, as he isn’t as highly guarded as Ichi is, but it’s still quite the accomplishment to be able to reign Nii in because of his nature as a whole. 

God, his S/O has him wrapped around their tiny fingers. Would do absolutely anything for them… then get into fights over the heads about it. Through their shared mental connection, he recommends the idea of ear muffs and how they should grab some immediately, right now, and then try to tug the body to the nearest store. He’s trying, he really is, but he doesn’t really realize his actions cause more harm than good… it’s the thoughts that count, right?

San is the easiest to warm up to, due to his quite jolly nature and interest in humans as a whole. He’d find it quite curious about his mate’s hearing abilities, always wondering, what can they hear? Can they hear Godzilla snoring in the ocean? He has to know! So he does bug his S/O more often than not, he doesn’t mean to cause any harm! He’s just a curious noodle, a very curious one indeed.

Once Ichi and Nii explain the situation, he does feel quite guilty. After all, he’d feel as though he’s been contributing to the strain on his S/O, when he really didn’t mean to. He’d try his best to be more quiet, but he does slip up quite often. Please don’t blame him, he’s trying. 

#king ghidorah #godzilla kotm #king of the monsters #gkotm #godzilla king of the monsters #godzilla #king ghidorah x reader #x reader #reader insert #ichi x reader #ni x reader #san x reader #ghidorah x reader #ghidorah

[writingforatwistedworld]

Bigger request that I will cut in smaller pieces so I can serve soup.

Self-aware au

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, murder, manipulation, implied imprisonment, death, cannibalism, obsession, possessiveness, unhealthy relationship

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

Entering your world

Azul felt like an octopus out of water

When he had heard Jade yelling out a warning it was already too late and he was already falling down the stairs, a student he made a deal with not too long ago standing not too far, his hands lowering themselves from the pushing him

And now he was laying on the floor in a place he didn't recognize

Moonlight filtered through the window of the room and a sleeping figure almost completely covered by a blanket was illuminated by its light and the light from the phone they were laying next to, indicating that they fell asleep whilst using it

Did he teleport to a different place? Azul still felt the burning sensation of the hard stone of the stairs hitting his body so he might have done that out of desperation...

And desperate he was when you turned over in your sleep and he could see your face

And thus, the screaming began

Imagine his surprise, no his shock after seeing the person he had admired, sought after for so long laying in front of him in their pajamas

Although, it would be better to say you did lay in your pajamas because now you were jumping up in fear for your life

But after fearing that a madman had broken into your house life with Azul was pretty nice

Azul is a pretty good cook from running Mostro Lounge so him making dinner is like going to an expensive restaurant

There is that thing about him wanting to pay you rent though…

You see, Azul is not someone who wants to leech (haha, get it?) off of someone

So, of course, he will give you money… though it is might be way too much

How he gets it?

You know, just some side jobs… a few contracts… give him a month and he will have the cafe down the street because the owner used it in a contract with Azul

“But he doesn’t have the twins so there is no way that he is dangerous” oh darling, you have seen NOTHING

Yeah, Azul isn’t good in sports, Azul hates anything that has to do with it so there is no way he will get ripped and start beating people into submission (also, that is below his level) but my man has tactics

In fact, he could haggle you out of your house, your job, your family (basically everything you own) whilst you walk happily away from the deal with nothing but a single shell in your pocket

Soon he will propose that you simply stay at home whilst he earns the money

He is just so thankful that you took him in so let him repay you

That repayment might end in him making you dependent on him but who am I to tell you that? Surely you have already understood what he is tryi- why are you saying yes?

Say goodbye to freedom. Say goodbye to your friends and family. Say goodbye to privacy

Although Azul has built up (scarily fast) his life in this world that still doesn’t mean he feels very safe here

Everyone is a human and who knows what scientists would do to him once they find out that he is capable of magic

So he is clingy… you might have lost blood circulation to your lower body once or twice due to him being unseperatable from you

If someone somehow (don’t ask me how) got close to you though? Oh they are done

Remember that haggling thing? Yeah that but with less haggling and more “I force you into a contract and then you will meet your doom”

They do serve desserts at cafes… wouldn’t eat those at his though

You would be surprised if you knew how easy it is to hide human remains in pastries

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x reader #self aware au #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twsited wonderland azul #twst azul #yandere azul #azul ashengrotto #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #tw: yandere #tw: murder #tw: manipulation #tw: implied imprisonment #tw: death #tw: cannibalism #tw: obsession #tw: possessiveness #tw: unhealthy relationship

[serenescribe]

the prince's physician Twisted Wonderland | 3.7k Summary: Malleus is the prince’s physician. He reflects on everything his role entails. AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52875436 Collaboration with @ohsleepie | Potential spoilers for elements of Chapter 7

Hello everyone! This fic is directly inspired by @ohsleepie's wonderful "The Prince and his Physician" AU, and wound up being an impromptu collaboration featuring absolutely stunning and incredible art drawn by Sleepie himself! Please check him out and follow him!

I'm so happy to share this, and I hope that you all enjoy it!

The days between the prince’s passing and his inevitable reincarnation always feel the longest to Malleus.

Time, as it is, is a slow-paced thing; such is life for him as the last of his kind, a single year feeling far more miniscule for him than it does for a human. Malleus loses track of the days easily, slips up on his months and years. He is only aware of the passage of time through distant observations of festivities — celebrations to herald in a new year, for one, or the prince’s birthday, for another.

But rather than track the time through each changing year, Malleus tracks them in cycles of Silver’s life and death.

With each new reincarnation, each new cycle brought anew, something imperceptible shifts in the air. A rebirth means many things — to the kingdom’s populace, it is yet another year of a curse yet unbroken; to Malleus, it is a tangible, physical mark of his failures. But failures aside, there is something so jarring, so off-putting, about seeing the nursemaids and servants whisk a cradle through the halls of the castle, a cradle Malleus knows the contents of.

It is Silver, always Silver, a slumbering baby identical to the dozens that came before him — wispy locks of silver hair that plaster against his forehead, pudgy hands and chubby cheeks, and when he opens his eyes, those same, breathtaking hues of the brightest auroras.

Malleus always stops and stares whenever these moments occur. For an instant, his breath is stolen right from his throat by some unseen thief; his mind dredges up memories of when he, himself, was young, stirring to life old cycles when he was but a child himself, unable to comprehend Silver’s passing and subsequent return. It had taken him quite some time to grasp all of it — but then again, could one truly blame Malleus when his guardian figure, the kindly young prince his age who took him in and treated him well, had died in bed, only to reappear as a wee babe?

But when Silver returns, Malleus feels as though he can breathe again, an invisible knot in his throat loosened.

Because when Silver is gone, Malleus feels… useless, for lack of a better word. His own memories of his childhood are haphazard and spotty, mainly made up of foggy recollections of surviving in the harsh brambles of fae forests. For many, many years, he has found a purpose, was given one through being brought to this human kingdom: break our prince’s curse, and save him from Death’s unyielding grip.

There are few here who deign to interact with him beyond courteous pleasantries. They turn their noses up at him, eyes narrowing, lips twisting; it is fae, they whisper to each other, voices dripping with venom. If not for its magic, its prowess, surely we would have left it to die.

Silver is kind to him, has always been ever since he was young. So is it truly so shocking that Malleus feels so lost with him gone, and feels so relieved whenever he returns?

(And yet, intermingled with the relief, buried underneath such feelings of solace, there lurks another monster. A sense of guilt which festers, slowly growing over time.

An old memory rises whenever Malleus reflects on it for too long, of Silver’s voice:

“I wish for you to break my curse, Malleus. But I do not want to be immortal. My people have suffered for far too long, unable to grow and prosper due to my unending fate.”

He remembers a soft, sad smile.

“To relieve them of that burden, to allow them to grow with my final passing… that is what I wish for, above all else.”)

“How are you feeling today, your majesty?”

It is always odd, with each new cycle. To reacquaint himself with this new Silver — so much like the one before, in his appearance and demeanour, yet lacking the full memories of his past. Malleus knows Silver recalls just enough, especially when aided with the meticulous journals his previous incarnations have kept, but it is jarring, all the same, to reintroduce himself to someone he has known for many, many decades.

Silver blinks at him from the bed, the four-poster frame draped with too many silks and gauzes, too big for a boy of his size. His eyes are tinged with crusts of sleep, bags forming under them despite the medicines and foods they all have him eat, and yet there is such a strange tranquillity resting in his expression whenever Malleus sees him. “I’m quite alright, Malleus,” he responds, voice scarcely a whisper, soft and sweet. “And you don’t need to call me such formalities. We’ve been over this many times.”

Malleus exhales, the breath slipping through his nose.

No matter how many times Silver tells him as such — and it has been plentiful, through Silvers young and old, of different years, different decades, different centuries — Malleus still abides by such titles, at least when he first speaks to him. It gets easier as the years pass, as he acquaints himself a bit closer, as Silver inches closer to another inevitable death, but all the same—

“You are to be his physician,” a voice instructs him, the memory looming to life once more, “and you do not stand on equal ground with him. As such, you are to abide by our formalities: he is to be referred to as ‘your majesty,’ and nothing else.”

“Prince Silver,” Malleus says instead, the title a little clunky on his tongue. Silver raises an eyebrow at him, but does not push. He merely sits in place as Malleus walks over, his heels clicking against the floor, tail lashing behind the fabrics of his half-skirt. “Allow me to check you over today, if you will.”

“At this point, you need not even ask.”

The days go by the same way they always do: Malleus inspects Silver over carefully, running careful hands over every inch of his body before he adjusts his magic, and delves deeper into the beyond. His instincts are carefully attuned for any little change, anything he has never seen or felt before — any anomaly at all could give a new direction for him to research in, and a new possibility of a means to break the curse.

(He refuses to let himself think too hard about what breaking the curse truly entails. Malleus has ruminated over it over the course of many, many cycles, laying wide awake in bed, staring up at elegantly painted murals on the ceiling in the dark of night. It is always the same thing — should he abide by the kingdom’s wishes, or by his prince’s?

In the end, regardless of which route he chooses, Malleus shall break the curse. But it is the eternal dilemma presented to him that tangles his soul day after day — what would truly be better, to let Silver live past the ages of youth and mature into an all-powerful, immortal king? Or to let him die in peace, freeing his people from the burdens of a monarchy, their hopes and dreams all inextricably tied to their young and dying prince?

And, to another extent, the other part of the question Malleus thinks about, what does he want himself?

There is a part of him that feels such vibrant joy and pride at the thought of Silver thriving — to live as long as Malleus shall, if not even longer; to rule with his steadfastness and kindness, resolute as he heralds a new, immortal age of glory. Malleus knows little about the history of his own kind, but what tiny bits he can dredge up have taught him of a group of creatures with such power and perfection, such beauty and bravery. They thrived in the night, ruled from the shadows, creatures of such majestic, nigh-immortal magic with an arrogance that led to their own downfall.

As a fae himself, Malleus wonders if it is only natural for him to desire such things for Silver. To watch him grow into the ages he has never been able to reach before, to witness him at his fullest might and glory.

And yet, the mere thought of the stabbing betrayal in those auroral eyes, the sadness that may overcome those soft features, is enough to give him pause each and every time.)

He was young when they found him skulking about the brambles.

For as long as Malleus can remember, he has always been alone. Though he’s certain he remembers some sensations of warmth from before he came into being, of being cradled close in a loving embrace, all he remembers, through to his earliest memories, is of being alone.

And for such a lonely fae child, wandering about an overgrown, abandoned valley, what else was there for him to do but survive? To pounce about and gulp down whatever meals he could find, to curl up in the nooks of trees and little rock caverns to try and keep warm… and to hide in the brambles, slitted eyes peering at civilisation from afar.

He’d watched the daily lives of the human kingdom after finding out about their existence, when he was old enough to try and mimic a form similar to their own. Still, Malleus had been too scared to venture too close, some innate part of him screaming at him to stay away, and so he had simply observed from a distance… until one day, they found him.

He remembers little of that day now. It’s all a blur when he tries to recollect it — sharp grips tightening around his limbs as he kicked and thrashed, searing magic that ripped through his veins, burning those who tried to hurt him, being thrown and tossed about, immobilised by something that seared at his skin… All while screaming and yelling flooded the air, his heartbeat thumping chaotically in his ears, head spinning as his surroundings whirled about him—

And then it stopped.

And then there was Silver.

He was young then. That, Malleus recalls. He remembers everything after the pain and the panic with ease, of the way the young boy — just as young as he, with silver hair and such pretty, colourful eyes, and oh-so gentle hands — had removed the searing things that hurt him, and rubbed something that stung before it began to feel better.

“My name is Silver,” the boy told him, in a soft, kind voice that made Malleus feel… safe. “I’m sorry about the pain they caused you. I hope you’re feeling better now.”

Malleus understood him, of course, in some strange, innate way. But his tongue could not shape the same sounds that he heard, no matter how hard he tried. When he spoke, all he could manage was something that chimed and clicked, something Silver didn’t understand.

And yet, in spite of all that, Silver had such patience with him anyway. He allowed Malleus to stay by his side, to stay in his room, eating the same foods that he did — and what a treat they were, for a child who starved as long as he had! — and sleeping in his bed.

Time passed; his wounds healed. His tongue began to curl in all the right ways, taught painstakingly by Silver how to speak in his tongue in-between the periods of time where he had to disappear. Malleus relished in each and every day, the loneliness that haunted him for so long no longer looming over him like a shadow. Now, he had Silver—

Until he didn’t.

Silver hadn’t woken up one day, no matter how hard Malleus tried. Nudging him, shaking him, calling his name until his voice rose in a panic, and the door slammed open, footsteps thumping into the room. He’d been dragged away, kicking and screaming again, the same terror from years ago swelling up once more in his heart; the fire that sparked through his veins, the sheer agony and pain, the lurking realisation that he was alone again.

He remembers very little of those in-between days, the foggy haze of nothingness only pierced by a baby’s cry and the realisation that Silver had somehow returned. But it hadn’t been until years later, years of being stuck in a tiny little bedroom by himself, that Malleus could finally see him again.

Silver was younger now. Younger than Malleus himself. And finally, he explained it to him.

“I have a curse on me,” Silver told him, as simply as possible, as Malleus curled around him in his bed. “And other humans believe you can break it.”

Malleus blinked up at him, raising his head from the soft, downy cushions. “I… can?”

“You can,” Silver affirmed with a gentle smile, his voice high. He reached out, wrapping his arm around Malleus and bringing him close. “Because you’re a fae. You’re so strong. If anyone can help me, it’s you.”

The truth, of course, was far more complex than that simplistic explanation. The truth was that Silver’s curse itself was fae-inflicted and, considering the immense strength of the fair folk, only another fae’s skills would be able to eliminate the curse. But Malleus had been young, and Silver, despite his youth and the fact that he still barely recalled his own memories, was kind, trying to explain everything to Malleus as simply as possible: You are strong, and we believe in you. I believe in you.

And Malleus had accepted it, taking on his new role as the prince’s physician with a regal sort of pride.

Magic slinks through his veins as naturally as blood, the two intermingling and intertwining. It comes to him so easily, far more than even the most expert mages of the kingdom, who have spent decades of their mortal lives honing their skill to a perfect shine.

But for as naturally gifted as Malleus is, he lacks the proper training one should have. That is, not the training of human mages, for he has gone through many cycles worth of such a thing, but the training of a fae.

Fae magic is so distinctly different from that of humans, rooted in their very heart and soul, and in the power of the natural world around them. And though Malleus can adapt to his circumstances, taking what the reluctant tutors teach him and twisting it to suit his own strengths, there is only so much he can learn and do until he hits a wall, and gets stuck in one place.

If only there were other fae still alive, still out there. If only, Malleus thinks longingly, a swell of frustration burgeoning within him as he hits yet another blockade in another theory he’s been trying to test, the ink of his feathered quill dragging to a blotchy halt across the parchment as he struggles to pen what he’s been theorising into written words.

He hears the whispers of the court, day after day. Why isn’t there any progress? the humans ask, as though Malleus can flick his wrist and cure anything instantly. How many years has it been here? How much longer must we suffer? How much more must our prince wait?

And the thing is, Malleus desires nothing more than to be able to snap his fingers and dispel that wretched curse, all at once. But beyond other factors, such as Silver’s private request to him all that time ago to grant him a peaceful death and free his kingdom from the shackles of his immortality, there is the very fact that this is a fae curse, a complex, interweaving system of magic designed to loop Silver’s death, all while bringing him back every time. There is intent behind this convoluted spell, and save nothing short of somehow speaking to the caster himself, there is little Malleus can do but break it all down in reverse.

He rakes a hand through his hair, a growl spilling from his throat. The quill clatters to the table as he drags his hands down his face, biting back a haggard sigh.

The sound of knocking against wood.

“You may enter,” he calls, twisting in his chair to stare at the door.

The hinges squeak as it cracks open, revealing a guardsman who leers at him. “Your presence is requested,” they state, not bothering to hide their disdain, yet having enough basic courtesy not to let it spill into their words. “The council wishes to learn of your progress on breaking his majesty’s curse.”

Dark lips twist into an ugly sneer. The council, Malleus seethes. A group of uppity, stuck-up human nobles, who constantly die and get replaced with equally awful replacements, who keep breathing down his back about any meagre bits of progress he’s been able to make despite Silver’s attempts to get them to stop.

The downsides of Silver constantly reincarnating, needing to relearn everything all over again as he dives back through journals and jostles his own memories, is that he can’t always chase them away, telling them to leave his physician alone, and let him work. This is one of those times, it seems; Silver is too busy learning how to be a human being again, leaving Malleus stranded against a group of men who seem hellbent on making his very existence hell throughout what little bits of life they live.

But it is not as though he can deny a summons. For all his title as the prince’s physician, Malleus knows — has known for such a very long time — that his rank is meaningless without the very prince he serves.

“Tell them that I shall arrive in five minutes.” Picking up his quill, Malleus dips it back into a pot of ink, a furious frustration igniting the spark within him as he turns back to his incomplete report.

It is better than nothing, and that is worth something.

Malleus holds very little loyalty to this kingdom. What else is there for him, when he is destined to outlive everyone within it, and when they are all so bent on treating him as though he personally killed their families?

He is aware of the history between them and his own ancestors, the plentiful fae who used to share these lands until they waged war against the humans, slaughtering them in a painful, bloody battle. The humans had emerged victorious, all the fae driven out or slain, but it had come at the heavy cost of all their royals killed — except for one.

And for years, they had watched their prince grow with pride, until he had died before his coronation. And then it had happened again, and again, and again — they would find him as a baby nestled within a clearing in the nearby woods, identical in each and every iteration, and they would watch as he always died before arriving at his years of maturity, always while he was far too young.

A fae curse, they realised, far too late. How foolish they had been, to dismiss the magic struck against their prince! It is a fate worse than death, they lamented, their spirits growing weary with each new cycle. What shall we do?

Malleus is their answer to their conundrum, a solution to a problem his ancestors made. And yet, for all the supposed salvation he represents and is supposed to bring, he knows what they think of him. And though he understands it, understands the reservations and hatred for everything he represents, he also cannot help but resent them for it.

Why is he treated like he is lesser, when he is trying to help them?

His loyalty lies with their prince, with Silver, for the kindness Malleus has been shown over and over, throughout countless identical reincarnations, countless ends and beginnings. It is the reason why he stays, why he endures it all, why he works painstakingly at dissecting a curse only he stands a chance of understanding, in hopes of shattering this cruel fate once and for all.

He carries the hopes and dreams of the kingdom on his shoulders — a cruel irony, Malleus knows, considering what most of the populace think of him. He is their only hope, in the end.

But the thing is — and this, Malleus has come to realise over time:

It is easy for the humans to root for their prince. It is easy for them to hope, to pray, to plead with whatever higher forces exist out there for the fae physician to break his curse, bringing them all into a golden age of their royal’s immortality. It is easy because they are human; for many of them, they will not live long enough to witness more than perhaps four or five of their prince’s life cycles, forcing them to tell their descendents of their desires to carry on the flames of their hopes.

When one does not live long enough for their awe and admiration, their all-consuming anticipation, to melt away into something far more pessimistic, it is easy to stand strong and proclaim, “I wish for my prince to live forever; I wish for him to lead us into a new age.”

But for Malleus? For the only fae in a kingdom of mortals, destined to outlive each and every one of them by proxy of his heritage alone?

He has lost count of just how many cycles he has witnessed, from the tender years of childhood into the grown fae he is today. He has lost track of how many times he has met Silver for the first time, the servants and guards and nursemaids who care for him and guard him all switching out cycle after cycle, as more of them die and more of them are replaced.

The humans see not what Malleus witnesses over time: the piles of journals that stack up higher and higher; the heavy bags that marr the underside of those striking auroral eyes; the pure exhaustion that sinks into their prince’s every movement and word, the way he gazes upon his kingdom from towering windows.

In the end, this miserable curse can only end one way: Silver must die.

(The question still remains, pressing down on Malleus’ shoulders, an invisible burden weighing him down with each soft smile and greeting he receives.

Shall Silver live forever? Or only once more?)

#my writing tag #writing collaborations #twst #twisted wonderland #twst fanfiction #twst writing #malleus draconia #twst silver #the prince and his physician au #i loved writing this so much and i loved collaborating with sleepie on this #so i hope you all like it!! :D #might write more for this au in the future bc it's captured my heart

[lostcauses-noregrets]

Lost, I think Erwin was only in 65% of the manga/anime, yet I don't think anyone has ever left such a long-lasting impression on the audience. He ranks higher than the mc in the character polls, and he even once ranked higher than Levi. People still love and praise him even though he's been dead for years. Why do you think this is? What makes him such a compelling character?

I’ve been sitting on this ask for months because it feels like such a huge responsibility to answer it. What is it that makes Erwin Smith such a compelling and enduringly popular character, despite having been written out of the story years ago? 

The most obvious reason is that Erwin is a well written character with considerable depth.  He is a brave and inspiring military commander who leads from the front and dies heroically, laying down his life to ensure the main characters live to fight another day. He plays a pivotal role in the story and, long after he dies, continues to be a motivating force for several other characters. He’s also pretty easy on the eye, which does no harm either. 

However characters like this are ten a penny in manga and anime so I don’t think this is enough to explain Erwin���s enduring appeal.  There’s a very interesting interview with Isayama from 2016 where he talks about coming to understand Erwin’s character, which I think gets to the heart of the matter.  

“...for Erwin, there’s no person I can easily compare him to…The main reason for that is probably because I didn’t have anyone in my life who was an “insightful leader” like my initial portrayal of Erwin. Of course, I’m sure there were people who were “insightful leaders” to a certain degree around me, but—and this is likely due to a quirk of my own personality—the grander a person, the more my eyes are drawn to the places where they’re frayed, or are coming apart at the seams. Armin once said of him, “If a person existed who was capable of bringing change, they would have to be able to sacrifice things that are important to them.” Erwin is certainly someone who can do that, but because I had no one in reality to model him on, and because I, the creator, had no shred of an “insightful leader” within myself to use either, I think I ended up making Erwin more and more human as I went along. Lately, though, I’ve started enjoying drawing Erwin. To put it simply, I think it’s because I am now able to write Erwin not as the “insightful leader,” but as he is inside my heart, an Erwin who is very complex inside."

And Erwin is a very complex and conflicted character.  He’s also a deeply unreliable narrator who sees his own actions in the very worst possible light. He has the ability to motivate others to great feats of heroism, but at the same time he sees himself as a fraud and a conman.  He carries a huge burden of guilt over his father’s death, yet he isn’t driven by vengeance, what drives him forward is the pursuit of knowledge and his desire to prove his father’s theories were right. He is a ruthless commander, willing to sacrifice countless soldiers to achieve his goal, but he also devised a Scouting formation that saved numerous lives. He is also quite literally haunted by all the men and women who died under his command.  He’s incredibly insightful and intelligent, always thinking several steps ahead of everyone else, but he isn’t invulnerable to being manipulated by unscrupulous characters like Zackley, who was able to spot his weakness. He believes that he alone is pursuing his own selfish dream, despite all the characters having their own dreams and motivations. Yet despite his misgivings, he is able to set aside his dream, and lay down his life for the greater goal of saving humanity. He presents an implacable facade to the world, yet he privately admits to wishing he could end his life.  So many deeply human contradictions. 

Although Erwin is a hugely compelling character in his own right, I don’t think we can overlook the importance of his relationship with Levi, who of course is the most popular character in the series (sorry Eren).  Regardless of whether you ship them or not , it’s impossible to ignore the importance of Erwin’s relationship with Levi (and vice versa). I’ve written reams over the years about Erwin and Levi’s relationship, which I’m not going to repeat here, but I am going to point the famous quote from Ono Diasuke who described Levi as the last stronghold of Erwin’s humanity, because that’s what is really important.  

Ultimately Erwin is a complex, contradictory human being and it’s his humanity, rather than his heroism, and the emotional conflict at the heart of his character that continue to fascinates and move people.

#asks #erwin smith #erwin meta #snk

[tinydefector]

TINY-DEFECTOR WORK MASTERLIST

RULES BELOW ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

REQUEST & ASK OPEN

Please feed me request they are keeping me sane.

information

1. I WRITE M/M GENDER NEUTRAL READERS OR CANON CHARACTERS I WILL WRITE TRANS MALE.

I am not a Fem writer

2. have the right to not do request if I don't want to.

3. I get a large number of requests, and sometimes they get lost in my inbox.

4. Every three months I will do an inbox clear out. And will save what I'm working on into my drafts.

5. I write as a hobby to keep myself busy, (atm I'm not overly active due to moving house)

it's been a long while since i've written on tumblr. I lost my last account, but I'm hoping to get back into writing fics or oneshots again. Mainly going to be Writing Transformers.

Transformers Live Action -knightverse, ROTB. On occasions I may make Bayvesre content.

Transformers Prime

Transformers Gen 1

Transformers Mtmte, IDW

Character list and links below ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

Requests & ask Rules:

I don't tend to close my request unless I get over 30+ of them.

- 1 character per request if you want a longish one shot fic.

- you can make requests for multiples with scenarios but but I tend to keep them short with a few headcannons added in.

- Specify if you want a continuation of a previous fic.

- I will do both human and Cybertronian and occasionally Experimental monster readers.

-if requesting Cybertronian for smut, they have both a valve and spike as I write all Cybertronians with both parts, all cybertronian characters I write have both parts. (I will accept request with the fem bots, I just don't write Fem readers)

- your more than welcome to ask for NSFW, SFW, Angst, fluff and all sorts. I'm pretty chill. All Smut and NSFW content is marked with #valveplug

I write: gender neutral, or Male characters, (I'm not good nor do I like writing fem character, I'm a guy, if I do get fem readers I'm going to write them as gender neutral)

I will do:

- Scenarios

- Yandere and possessive.

- family content

-disabilities (human only)

- Fluff/Angst

- fearplay, mouthplay

-Vore: soft vore/ light vore (may experiment, but very light)

- NSFW, kink:

and Dub-con/ consensual Non-con

size kink 

skin fetish 

hair pulling 

Scent/ smell/ pheromones

Sex pollen/perfume.

silk and ribbon play

cum inflation 

breeding

pet play

Predator/prey

(On occasions will write Alpha/Omega/Beta, I write it rather differently to the classic AOB. But I will only write it on very rare occasions)

vore

fluid play and consumption (paint, energon, oil, cum, spit, lubricant,)

spiking warming

Heart and spark syncing 

new spike and Valve modifications to test on their human lover

(Just ask pretty much)

-Pregnancy

- death request are alright just keep it civil I won't go into details on the deaths.

- The AUs:

First Contact PotatooftheLand

Tasty AU of @callsign-relic

Energy fluid AU - (my silly energy drink transfluid ones)

Sparkeater AU

Human pet

I will NOT do:

-Incest

-Pedophilia

- Self harm

-Minors (exceptions if they are children of the Bots and reader but only exception)

- Don't get angry if I'm not willing to write fem characters, I'm a guy, and I tend to stick with trans content, M/M, or gender neutral, but I'm leanent but respect my boundaries.

Slightly iffy:

- death of parents (I recently lost my mother in an accident so please be aware I that things one's sometimes I won't do due to my own feelings on these fics, while other time I may because it gives me comfort)

I enjoy making silly little one shots or even just sweet little things. I will eventually do up a master list for links once I make more stuff. (Pretty much anything you can think of up that alley I'm more than happy to do)

If you want a request of one who's not on the list, please submit it. These are just all the ones I can remember off the top of my head, people enjoy.

Ps I love writing silly little things too outside of the fics and even enjoy making art to go along with them when I feel up to drawing.

So nothing is too silly ask away over all the strange little things you want to know.

__________

Tiny art dump

My little spot for art

Food feed to me

_________

Random Works

Transfluid headcannon

Non specified ship works

______________________

Character list and links:

Beachcomber

Breakdown

Bumblebee

Bulkhead

Cyclonus

Drift

First aid

Ironhide

Jazz

Knockout

Megatron

Mirage

Optimus Prime

Perceptor

Pharma

Prowl

Ratchet

Rodimus

Rung

Starscream

Skyfire

Skywarp

Skids

Swerve

Soundwave

Shockwave

Swindle

Tailgate

Tarn

Thundercracker

Ultra Magnus

Whirl

#transformers #megatron #rodimus #transformers idw #transformers x human #transformers lost light #transformers megatron #transformers prime #transformers x reader #bumblebee #breakdown #bulkhead #cyclonus #drift #Ironhide #jazz #Knockout #mirage #optimus prime #perceptor #pharma #prowl #transformers ratchet #ratchet #mtmte starscream #starscream #skyfire #mtmte swerve #soundwave #valveplug

[dreamii-krybaby]

Ok i haven’t rlly spoken about EP7 bc I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY that my brain can’t put it into words, like bro I gotta process words…wordssss man, and organize them in an understandable human language

But I will say this with not to much elaboration

SPOILERS FOR EP7

Warning: This is so fucking long holy shit this was originally going to be super short but my ADHD went beserk holy shit-

So it seems that Yeva is the only drone who successfully has had the “Patch” aka cure work on her in some way (Patch version 2.1.8 according to the files shown in EP7)

perhaps isn’t a one off cure and constantly needs updates bc the solver somehow is able to by pass the previous patches

or it’s simply the only version that has successfully worked and the rest hasn’t, because all of the other test subjects has gotten no effect or got their cores corrupted

and in Nori’s case, it was on progress

But the patch doesn’t seem to get rid of the solver immediately, either it needs constant updates for it to slowly kill it or it keeps it at bay but doesn’t necessarily gets rid of it, maybe it prevents possession or lower it’s chances drastically

Now this is very interesting, it makes much more sense why the first thing they did when Nori got possessed by the solver and shit started to go south they wanted to get Yeva, she is the only one who has somewhat of a success on the patch project.

Or maybe they wanted to bring her so she could calm her bestie down or put her in place lol.

As to why Mitchell left her outside of the cathedral, I think is because he didn’t trust her and feared her, due to her off-standing cold behavior. Like the way she looks at him, how she didn’t want mitchell to hold her hand and sort of slapped his hand away, and well him just witnessing the horrors of possessed nori. And when he saw the sentinels had broken free, he may have used the opportunity for them to kill her off by locking her outside

The other reason as to why Mitchell left yeva is bc he simply well- lost her. Maybe when he looked back at the sentinels had broken free he lost sight of her and assumed they might have gone after her

And it may reinforce my idea that she purposely went outside with her husband to find the cross usb with the patch, she already had plethora of motives imo but her main one would be to find this patch and give it to her daughter.

And with yeva having the patch which may given her more control over her body may explain how Doll also has more control over her body, since she inherited Yeva’s patched version of the AS

or maybe that didn’t happen bc that contradicts with my idea that she was after the patch for her kid due to weird genetic shit, unless the AS somehow bypassed the patch or some shit idk

Also her death makes much more sense, in a previous post I analyzed the flashback scene in EP3 and came to the conclusion Yeva died first, then her husband. Knowing that she was willing to put herself in danger for Nori moments before the core collapse.

LIKE I DONT HAVE A VIDEO BUT IF YOU LOOK CLOSELY AT THE EPISODE YEVA IMMEDIATELY PUSHES NORI BEHIND HER AND PUTS HERSELF IN THE FRONT TO PROTECT HER AS SOON AS THE CORE IS MOMENTS FROM COLLAPSING

She is definitely seems protective of the people she cares, and she is willing to endanger herself for them. Which may explain why she died so easily to V.

Perhaps she thought that by sacrificing herself her husband and kid had a higher chance at survival.

AND IT WORKED, sure, her husband died right after her leaving her kid with no guardian and Doll did die in the long run but in that moment Doll DID survive.

Which actually, if she indeed sacrificed herself for her family makes it…so much sadder, like it worked….but not quite….and failed in the end, her sacrifice was worthless in the long run. :(

GODDDD I LOVE HER CHARACTER SO MUCH :(

SHE GENUINELY SEEMED SO NICE AND CARING AND PROTECTIVE OF THOSE SHE CARED ABOUT AND IS CLEARLY WILLING TO ENDANGER HERSELF AND SACRIFICE HERSELF FOR THOSE SHE HOLDS DEAR I CANT-

IT MAKES HER DEATH SO MUCH MORE SADDER TO ME GOD-

LIKE I LOVE CHARACTER WHO ARE COLD AND STAND-OFFISH BUT DO A 180° WITH THEIR LOVED ONES AND ARE ACTUALLY VERY SWEET AND KIND AHHHHHHHHHHH

Ok enough of me going bonkers over dead mom who haunts narrative, my other explanation as to why she died to V so easily, contrasting her absolute girlboss of an introduction in EP7

First of all, V is a disassembly drone, a new unknown mysterious species to Yeva. And DD’s have the AS and Yeva may have tried to use her AS against V which didn’t work wich may have caught her off guard. There can also be the factors she might have been not in the right mental and emotional headspace, we don’t know how much time happened between the core collapse and her last moments, a lot of shit could have happened that may have taken a toll on her, affecting her combat abilities.

Also am pretty sure your brain will go bonkers when a literal angel of death tries to kill you, your husband and your child.

Also let’s not forget that she MAYBE thought that she did deserved to give up her life for Doll not only to give a better chance of survival but because like Nori, she blames herself for making Doll start living a horryfing situation. It was HER genetics who passed down the AS to her OWN CHILD, she may have not known better but I cannot imagine the amount of guilt that must have caused her. She KNOWS what the AS is capable of and she just accidentally passed it down to someone young and innocent who is also her own kid.

LIKE HOW AM I STILL SEEING MORE LAYERS OF YEVA JUST BEING ABSOLUTELY TRAGIC

God she deserves so much better. :(

Well tbh a lot of these things am mentioning is me trying to figure out how the hell Yeva saved Nori from the solver while serving cunt only to wind up dying to V with a simple bullet to the head. Am I on copium?

Tbh I understand more on why Doll was so hellbent on revenge, I too would kill to avenge Yeva (YEVA MY GOD I LOVE HER SO MUCH MY BABYGIRL YOU DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER-)

Also yeah I could make a whole essay on Doll’s death, I fully expected her death but I feel the way they executed it didn’t do her justice at all.

Even if I find her super frustrating I like to think she is in robo-heaven with Yeva now, hopefully with her dad too.

Anyways I have more to say but I think I’ll leave it for other posts

#murder drones #murder drones yeva #yeva murder drones #md yeva #yeva md #murder drones ep7 #murder drones episode 7 #murder drones ep 7 #murder drones ep 7 spoilers #murder drones spoilers