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#But he just prefers to use his Tech
u5an5 · 1 month
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Theory: The Clone X was not Cody like some people think or even Fives (I know he's been dead for a very long time but so was Boba Fett and look where we are. Plus, Echo was supposed to be certainly dead too; making him Winter Soldier-esque storyline wouldn't be that surprising) or not even Slick.
((Also, now that we've seen his face devoid of any tattoos or scars I think first two takes are definitely not applicable anymore; they wouldn't put that much effort to make him unrecognizable))
Back to the point: In my opinion, The Clone X was none other than...
Fox.
Now let me explain.
Who else, other than X, was loyal to the law and justice dictated by it over any moral or ethic code?
Fox.
Who else was portrayed with such single-minded focus on hunting down traitors of the government he served, regardless of what it was?
Fox.
Who else could know not only Coruscant so well but also identify Rex like they knew each other?
He already was a remarkably successful tracker of traitors, why not make him more efficient by pointing them out for him?
Good soldiers follow orders, after all.
#clone assassin#commander fox#star wars tbb#i know that hes got killed really early after Order in comics but i would honestly prefer him to die this way#the bad batch spoilers#commander cody#arc trooper fives#tcw slick#cc 1010#star wars#sw tbb#sw the bad batch#the bad batch season 3#tbb theory#we dont even know for sure how he looks like cause in one moment we see corries without helmets all of them have standard paintjob#idk if its just animation error but because of it we cant be 100% sure fox ever regreted it without him being shown grieving with rest#hes just taking a breath when fives is dying and personaly i see it more as him rolling his eyes that rex is being mushy with traitor#but there are 3 clones behind fox when hes shown and then the one taking off his helmet stands beside 2 others so it may actualy be it???#and if he DOES regret it imo is more in 'shame i had to do it' rather than 'shame i did it' way if you know what i mean#hes just doing his job and hes GOOD at it. not his fault that him being competent is bad for the good guys#my point is: outside of one page incomic that can be at any point made noncanon or recontextualized theres no evidence that it cant be him#they already retconed more important things. why not this?#i think its likely that in case im right we can assume that all named corries were made into CloneX#none of them appeared yet despite how much of action happens on coruscant#and only thorn died on screen; in a way preventing him from being viable option nonetheless#three hits point blank months before Order seem unlikely but theyve done weirder things so him returning wouldnt be THAT weird so uhh idk#but yeah cx-02 is tech#winter soldiering doesnt stop#i mean THIS could be fox/other corrie but it being tech is way too cliche oportunity to waste it on them (derogatory towards disney)#pls disney let corries hunt down traitors like they used to pls
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nickywhoisi · 1 year
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so how did Pizzahead get the means to make a bunch of Fakinos anyway???
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this is my headcannon for that lol
Peppino does not live on a ground floor btw....
Apologies for the hard to see linework here and there, I tried my best but it's not easy making a comic old-school style where you need one pose to be the same at all times. But I still managed, and am very happy with it! Also these are my designs for them both since I'm finally figuring out how to consistently draw them, especially Pizzahead; I gave him vague hair curls to make him seem like...almost human? Totino-ish? Not really tho XP
This was made over the span of quite a few days so I hope you enjoy! pchooooooooo
Reblogs > Likes, Thank you!
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dbphantom · 1 year
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i just think he's neat but not neat enough to actually detail that minigun or you know actually finish this skdjhgkjhs my 40 year old babygirl
bonus cord because he was my warmup
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anime mom hairstyle... i didn't draw his 'scouter' because i wasn't feeling it. that's all lol
my two favorite college professors are anarchists lmao... in my defense in high school (Real Life) my social studies teacher was a self proclaimed anarchist. I mean he was, tbf to him, not to make it sound like he wasn't. He'd actively go to protests and tell us stories about them and write rage against the machine lyrics on the blackboard. he was my 2nd favorite teacher even tho i was like. super socially awkward around him lol. he once talked to me about bor/derla/nds because he saw me wearing my Ze/r0 hoodie (the one with the Vau/lt/symb/ol on the shoulder) specifically T/P/S. he liked playing Cla/ptr/ap, and i mumbled something incoherent about maining At/he/na because i was freaking out lol.
my favorite teacher was actually my physics teacher... he once put on a long purple wig [because he was bald] to commemorate the start of our electricity unit. i miss physics a lot... anyway cord having purple magic and long hair totally isn't because of that wig or anything...
sometimes i forget this stuff. i don't have a lot of memories of high school, it's nice to be able to write down the parts i do remember and don't actively regret. i guess that's also how Cord feels some days.
#i didn't use a reference for this and you can TELL lol#just needed to get some RANCID dread vibes out of my system#so i drew best boy#caleb oroitz#veneer#and guess WHAT i learned how to draw the biohazard symbol THAT'S RIGHT#debating on if i prefer white accents or not for his button up/tech... let me have this one#is he edgy enough? i hope so#i added the hearts for funsies. because i think it'd bother him to have them on his outfit#caleb WANTS to be cool and badass but... he's a big softie at heart#hence the hearts all across his outfit. and also cord seeing right through him and putting his head in his hands like ''d'awwww''#i won't lie the tiny cord was the highlight of drawing this#You just draw the radioactive hazard symbol and then draw geese flying off the edges 👍#Also in case you're wondering why the FUCK Caleb and Cord (and Jerric) designated their group using the biohazard symbol#Well 1 it's dope. I don't care. It's cool as fuck cringe is dead it's cool and mentally I'm a 12 year old boy okay it's COOL#Two because magic spreads like a plague and since they realized they were all 'infected' by the forced opening of the portal they adopted#The symbol for their lil resistance group. For funsies.#Cord has caused like. 80% of the problems in this universe. Cord my beloved but also oh God the horrors of unrestricted scientific advances#I kid. It's Crestfall abusing Cord's work that is the real horror...#He just wanted to do it to see if he could. And then they swooped in and took all his stuff and made it their own#And abused the shit out of it#For example mass producing the wings/masks for military use. Using the portal device to enter other dimensions and [REDACTED].#I mean they did the same with Jerric's hard light and Caleb's security system. So are we actually surprised? No!#They're assholes
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toytulini · 2 years
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not me thinking about trying to shell out to convert my fiat to a Plug in hybrid? hmmmmm
#toy txt post#ive just started VERY GENTLY looking into this actually bc i uh. have acquired a second car. my grandpa's old car.#it is a tiny fuckin go cart geo from 1992 stick shift and im gonna try to learn stick shift on it but anyway i was like hmm perhaps....i#could learn on that car? what if i did a project? what if i ripped out that tiny little engine and made it into a hybrid or electric?#i found one little DIY blog of someone who converted a very similar car to electric and then back into a hybrid to increase range#so its maybe doable? altho that one was from like 2012 and the hybrid conversion involved?? a propane tank in the trunk?#which. feels not ideal. idk. but then also i found one that looks way more current and legit? they seem to focus on like. fleets of#commercial cars BUT they have a section for consumer cars? it seems to be some kind of kit that they ship out to a qualified mechanic.#which honestly if i can afford it i think i would prefer that bc idk shit about cars and im sure dad could try to teach me but hybrid might#be outside his wheelhouse...hes worried about the weight itll add but like idk? there already are electric fiats same age as mine so#clearly they figured it out for that and that was w the older tech from the 2010s?#but i have no idea what the price is for a professional conversion bc it requires getting an actual Quote from them#and i am not ready for that step yet!!!!! but like. god. next new car i buy i want to be a plug in hybrid i think#that seems like it would be a better choice for how i use a car than a fully ev unless i shell out for one of the real expensive bitches#full of soooo many ''luxury'' features that i will hate so much not to mention how many now standard modern features i despise...ugh#there was one i liked....toyota yaris plug in hybrid....it is....only available in europe and the uk :))) so id have to figure out#purchasing and importing a foreign car without even a test drive unless i want to get on an airplane (aka flying covid tube) and do that#and like i wouldnt mind visiting europe sometime and seeing all my internet friends over there but like i dont want to have to go over for#like. a car. u kno? plus every car that is not My Fiat is bad and wrong and makes me angry and stressed to drive so honestly#idk might as well accept my commitment to it as a future moneypit and make it more eco friendly and save on gas#tho im sure if im charging it at the house ill have to negotiate paying at least part of the electric bill or smth...id love to get some#kind of portable solar charger on it too so im not necessarily just relying on the fossil fuel electricity at my house either? idk. but#that seems hard to find at best and idk like id want to use it while my car is parked jn the parking lot but i suppose there'd be an#increased risk of it getting stolen depending on where i am? idk#part of me is like i should try to professionally convert my fiat to hybrid and then maybe do the geo just ev since im not gonna be takin#that thing long distances anyway? but idk. theres also that little nagging fear about like the fire risk cos i always hear about teslas#with the scary fire shit from that new battery tech and other evs are using that too now to get comparable ranges so like?? are they less#safe? should i be concerned about putting smth like that on an already less safe car from the 90s? or should i just be like well fuck it#this shit is a deathtrap anyway? and then have intrusive thoughts about car fires the entire time im trying to focus on learning stick?#also stick shift fucking stressful. why does it go backwards so fucking fast? what gives?
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husband-steve-cortez · 4 months
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Mostly trying to decide how talented I think Miles is given how much the vibe of Sentinel changes over the trilogy to be technically more tech focused. Barrier -> Tech Armor pipeline.
In my mind the advantage of biotic barriers is that you can consciously fine tune how much you're putting into defense and quickly fortify them when needed, while shields and tech armor flatly are what they are.
Kind of like the idea that because tech armor is so volatile you really shouldn't combine it with using biotics to reinforce your shields.
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bi-writes · 10 days
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thinking about being the new addition to tf141. you are an asset given to laswell by the CIA, a timid little thing but your aim is always on target, and you are quiet, tech savvy, and you do as you're told. (18+, dark)
just how lieutenant riley prefers. he dwarfs you. the first time you meet, your eyes nearly come out of your head from how wide they go. he's so large, and you feel so tiny compared to him, and even though he does nothing but a disinterested once over, it is obvious to the rest of the team that you might just be his favorite.
it's most obvious in the subtle touches. when you're getting ready to jump, ghost comes up from behind and tugs on your parachute, nearly topping you over making sure it's secure. when you're getting ready in the back of the humvee, he reaches over and buckles your thigh holster for you when he notices the strap is coming loose. you nearly choke when you feel his big hand between your thighs, and you stare up at him with wide eyes when his pinkie moves up the seam of your zipper when he tugs his hand away.
and then the way he's on your six is unlike anything else. like glue, chest pressed to your back, his gloved hand squeezing your waist as he moves you every which way he pleases because you're so small to him, so easy, and he growls under his breath when he touches the curve of your hips or the fat of your ass.
maybe you might enjoy it if he wasn't so fucking awkward about it. if he didn't stare at you without blinking. if he didn't adjust his cock in his jeans right in front of you. if he didn't grip you by the back of your head, tugging you any way he wanted as if scolding a kitten using the scruff of their neck.
you think the team would notice by now--that they would step in, tell ghost to back off, but they turn a blind eye. they tolerate this behavior, and you don't know if it's because ghost is so good at his job, they don't want to, or that they are so afraid of him, they refuse to say anything.
or maybe they approve. maybe it keeps ghost at bay. maybe it keeps a lion in his den. a spider in its nest. maybe indulging ghost in his fucked form of flirting and socialization is what keeps the foundations of this team right where it needs to be--and you realize, slowly, that maybe that is why you're here.
because ghost likes them soft, and they need to put a muzzle on their dog.
so when you feel him in the dark, slipping a gloved hand under the blanket that keeps you warm at night, he is pleasantly surprised to find you awake. and even more surprised to feel your hand slipping the soft lace of your panties right into his fucking pocket.
"they teach y'that 'n basic training? how ta give y'r knickers to y'r lieutenant, eh?"
"no," you whisper, and when you meet his eyes in the dark, he looks so hungry. he's untamed, no training, he's used to getting what he wants with no resistance. you turn over in bed, and you don't get to see the way he sucks on his teeth when you let your knees fall, revealing the pretty place between your thighs, soft and puffy and wet, just waiting for a good mutt to eat her up. "but i learned other things."
"tha' right?"
"yeah," you say softly, and you turn over onto your stomach, pushing back onto your knees right in front of him. he bends, leaning over until he's pushing his masked face right into the seam of your cunt, and you grip the sheets tight when he inhales deeply, a rumble following as both of his hands grip either side of your ass and spread you open for him. you're drooling, wetting the nylon fabric, and you gasp when you feel the wet, warm muscle of his tongue suck on your folds through the mask. it's lewd, and you're wetting the material so much it sticks to the strong lines of his face, but he continues, tilting his head to the side as he laps at the pretty slick that dampens your thighs.
"what'd y'learn then, swee'eart?"
not how to fuck your lieutenant. but...you did learn to keep them happy.
"h-how to be a good girl."
and you think you feel him smile.
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i-am-agent-washingtub · 9 months
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Throwback to (a few weeks ago) when I took the boys in for vet visits together and Prom was determined to cuddle with Sparta for security but Sparta is an old grump that wanted only to be ignored...
As you can see, Prom got his way in the end :3
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miyacults · 3 months
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jjk men + where they keep a picture of you.
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gojo, geto, nanami, megumi, yuuji.
cw: this is based off this trend! fully sfw. just wholesome talk about these guys looking at pictures of you everyday to lighten their day up <3 (or to mess with you, in gojo’s case)
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⊹˚₊⭒ GOJO has recently picked up the habit of taking the absolutely most ridiculous pictures of you ever since Yuuji and the rest of the kids gifted him a Polaroid camera for his birthday. He even started to gather them up in a photo album he proudly shows to anyone who visits your home, and this alone would be just lovely, if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re fully asleep, or unshowered, or in the middle of sneezing, or eating—in all of them! He claims his favorite is one he took while you were actively arguing about him not taking out the trash the night before, so he decided that it was a great idea to capture the Polaroid with his phone and put it as your contact photo and the wallpaper to his laptop.
⊹˚₊⭒ GETO owns a big house and is the proud father of two precious twin girls, so the walls of his living room and a few tables are filled with picture frames of Nanako and Mimiko growing up and of course—of you, too. He loves the sense of familiarity and warmth it brings to his house, turning it into a home and making him feel whole. Geto also loves keeping pictures on his nightstand, sometimes he even go as far as to writing sweet notes in the back of them, declaring his love for you or how proud he is of the girls.
⊹˚₊⭒ NANAMI is a classic man, so of course he keeps a picture of you in his—very expensive, very posh—wallet. He really isn’t much a tech-like guy, as he prefers simple things and wishes to have a simple life, so he’s not one to be on his phone constantly. He doesn’t even use mobile payment regularly, instead prefers taking his multiple cards out of his wallet every time he’s purchasing something—hence why he put a little picture of you in there to be looking at him all the time. He also made sure to put one of both of you over his desk at work.
⊹˚₊⭒ MEGUMI’s favorite hobby is actually taking pretty pictures of you (unlike Gojo)—so you’re clearly the wallpaper on his phone. He has a whole folder dedicated to you, with your name and a little ‘<3’ next to it, and it’s flooded with images of you blowing him a kiss, eating and laughing on your weekly date nights, sparring with Yuuji and shopping with Nobara, and so much more. He’s the type to take out his phone any chance he gets to photograph anything you’re doing at anytime.
⊹˚₊⭒ YUUJI has a locket necklace with a picture of you and Todou in it… but it wasn’t really his choice to begin with. It was actually a Christmas gift from Todou himself, and Yuuji was really close to throw it away when his besto friendo opened it and showed him the smiley picture of you in the right side of the necklace. He grew very accustomed to it since that, but Choso’s been bothering him to get a new one where he appears ever since.
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2024 © miyacults. Do not copy or plagiarize any of my work or share it in other social media platforms.
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jyoongim · 3 months
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Themes: posessiveness, slight yandere behavior, mentions of cannibalism, softcore smut,
After 7 years the Radio Demon is back!
But things arent how he left them…
Vox has taken it upon himself to be in charge of all things media
Radio has turned to Video
And Alastor’s little darling aint in her place…oh that just wont do
Your relationship with the Radio Demon was like a match made in Hell.
Alastor was a wild card by himself alone, but you? You never failed to keep him on his hooves?
You had been in the media world looong before Alastor popped up in Hell, having the title (ironic) Media Demon but somehow he managed to bring back the old themes that were once appreciated.
Not those podcasts or vlogs the youth were so prone to do
But things from the good old days.
Things that were considered ancient in the sense of modern tech.
Radio; Talk shows and actual live broadcasts.
Alastor and you quickly rose in popularity in the media realm [(you had a sneaky suspicion it was because he was terrifying and people honesty clung to an overlord’s word)]
You and Alastor had separate broadcasts, but you worked perfectly in sync with one another. Until one day…the Radio Demon disappeared, leaving you to run your show alone.
You did what you could, but the people seemed to miss the charismatic broadcaster as much as you and soon you were approached by Video.
“C’mon y/n, This will be a great improvement to your brand.” Vox smirked as you sipped the tea you were offered. You frowned. You were aware that media came in all formats but you enjoyed the ‘old’ way. “I dont know Vox, i prefer to be out of the camera’s eye” you said. Vox had been begging for years for you to join his team and claiming it would ‘boost’ your reputation. You didnt need a boost. You were THE Media Demon. If anything, you knew it would boost HIS popularity.
“Radio is so old-fashion, video is the future! You should be up to date with these things” he said. You grimaced “i am well aware of the trends, but not everyone likes this new savvy way, it is good to have a little variety”
Vox was getting annoyed.
Having you on the Vees would not only boost his claim to fame, but it would boost his power.
“The people would love to see the Media Demon in the public eye. You use to sing right? How about music production? You would kill sales with that voice of yours”
He was trying to butter you up.
Everyone knew you were a renown singer. A popstar once. You only showcased it a few times broadcasting when it was late at night and were in a mood.
Alastor loved to hear you sing.
“If you made videos people, your image can skyrocket” he continued.
You set your cup down, standing, having heard enough.
“I appreciate the offer Vox, but I will decline. I quite like stereo” and with that you left.
You made your way to the Hazbin Hotel.
To Alastor’s radio tower.
You sighed as you sat and stared at the station.
Maybe i should take Vox’s offer you thought as you collected your topics and put your headphones on.
You turned on the radio and did a count set
“How ya doin tonight folks? Its your favorite radio host and tonight you are in for a treat!” you gave the daily Hell gossip and opened the line for discussions. Letting out a laugh from a few of the responses you finally sighed “I have been offered the damning chance to retire from radio” you started. “I am sure you are all aware that I am fabulous of course, but i mean reverting to video can you imagine? And the audacity of Vox to even suggest just a thing. I think i do quite alright for a media connoisseur” you giggled.
As you chatted away you were unaware of the dark presence manifesting in the tower.
“Dial in im opening the lines to hear your opinions”
You listened in
“I think it could be good to switch it up!”
“Youre the Media Demon you could crush anything!”
“Y/n youre incredible!”
“Video kills the Radio star!”
You were about to chime in when a deep static like voice sounded
“I think you mean Radio killed the Video star”
Your eyes widened and spun around to see Alastor
“A-Alastor?”
His devilish smile sharpened as he pressed a button to cut the lines and removed your headphones “its been a while darling”
You couldnt help yourself as you launched at him for a hug.
You quickly recovered and let him go, stuttering “oh oh im sorry but w-what are you doing here? I-i thought you were gone”
Alastor grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a kiss to it
“Ooooh mon cher i could never stay away from you”
You blushed.
Alastor pulled you into an embrace, his grip a little tight
“So what it is i hear of you forsaking radio?”
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theghostkingisdead · 8 months
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when he's really tired, danny sometimes slips up and starts talking in ghost speak. the only ones who can understand him when he gets like this are tucker, sam, and jazz (because they're Liminal). of course, none of them realize this until danny slips up in public
Tucker hated English. The whole language was a confusing, contradictory mess. Honestly, the world would be a much better place if everyone just stopped talking and writing and only communicated using Timerio, preferably with several screens between them.
The blank word document stared back at him, mockingly. The sounds of his classmates typing away at their own projects – typing, normally his favorite sound in the world, how dare the project turn it against him! – filled the room. The clock in the corner of his screen told him they had twenty more minutes left in class; twenty more minutes until lunch, where he could at least enlist Sam’s help.
He wished she shared this period with him and Danny, but she was taking AP Lit this year. Tucker glanced over at his other best friend. His best friend, who was staring off into space, not even bothering to pretend to be focusing on the assignment.
Glancing up to make sure Mr. Lancer wasn’t looking, he risked asking, “Hey Danny, what are the odds of a ghost attack happening in the next thirty-five seconds or so?”
Danny barely moved, but Tucker watched him squint, like he was trying to read something far off and blurry.
“Pretty unlikely. Unless we’re still counting blob ghosts as threats.”
Somewhere in the background, the sound of typing stopped.
Tucker hummed, “yeah, that’s about what I figured.” That was ghosts for you, never there when you needed them, never gone when you didn’t. “What if you, ya know,” Tucker raised his eyebrows repeatedly, staring intently at his best friend.
“no.”
“Aw, come on!”
Danny rolled his eyes, leaning back into his chair. “Dude, if I attacked the school just to get out of the last quarter of English, I’d never hear the end of it from Sam and Jazz.”
Tucker opened his mouth, about to present the very reasonable argument that what Sam and Jazz didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, when he felt someone tap his shoulder. Turning around in his seat, he met the wide, terrified eyes of Star. She was glancing between Tucker and Danny, face pale.
“Um, I don’t mean to be rude, but uh…” Her voice trailed off, and in the pause Tucker was suddenly aware of how quiet the room had become.
Glancing around, he saw that everyone – including Lancer – was staring at him and Danny with varying levels of confusion and fear. Tucker considered himself to be pretty smart in most areas, maybe even a genius when it came to tech. But it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he’d missed something important.
Danny, the absolute dick, had slumped forward onto his desk. He was out cold. Dead to the world, and definitely not available for backup.
Kwan cleared his throat, and Tucker saw that his face was ashen.
“What are you two fucking talking about?”
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wheneclipsefalls · 14 days
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Little Gift- Tremble
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Pairing: Soft Dark Neteyam x Fem Human Reader
Little Gift Masterlist
Beautiful adult Neteyam pic by @cinetrix2
Summary: This is your last chance to run.
Warnings: aged up Neteyam, NSFW minors do not interact, dark Neteyam, NONCON/DUBCON, spanking, dirty talk, punishment, size difference, etc.
A/N: This one took a little longer than intended with all the life stuff going on, but yay it's here. Also, migt have gotten a little carried away with this part.
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The outpost feels like a relic of a different time. One that you have only heard of in stories, but now seeing those worn down bunk beds and the corner of a room that Spider calls his own, it doesn’t feel as glorious. The worst part, however, is how naked you feel around other humans. It’s only a slight comfort that Spider is wearing Na’vi apparel too. 
“Oh and yeah and this is a spear I made in Awalatuu.” Spider says. “But maybe let’s move it out of the way.” He gives an awkward chuckle but it’s obvious that his only concern is you suddenly deciding to use it against him. 
Your arrival at the outpost had been anything but graceful. In hindsight you would have preferred to meet these people face to face instead of over Neteyam’s shoulder. 
“If you want we can uh….watch a movie. Oh yeah I bet I could swipe Norm’s Star Wars collection.” 
You don’t return the smile he gives you, too busy awkwardly sitting on his bed while pouting. You never thought it would feel strange to be back in a place like this but after being around the Na’vi for the past week, the outpost feels like walking into a rundown dollhouse. Everything is your size and nothing is as beautifully crafted as Neteyam’s kelku. 
The awkward silence is slightly painful but you can’t find it within yourself to feel bad for Spider. Not when he hasn’t shown even a morsel of sympathy for your situation. Your own kind and not even they find it important to get you out of here. Not that they could anyways. No doubt Neteyam would view such actions as a betrayal. 
“He wouldn’t let you come along, huh?” You finally ask. 
Spider stops digging through the worn down hard drives. 
“Who?” 
“Neteyam. Didn’t want you coming to see the RDA off either?” 
Spider scoffs at the, leaving the tech behind to cross the small room. 
“I wouldn’t say that. I’m not the one he’s worried about getting into trouble.” 
Spider may not have heightened senses like the Na’vi but you worry that he sees the way your hands ball around the thin blankets.
“So Lo’ak handed the role of babysitter off to you somehow.” You lean back against the cold wall, trying to appear bored by the conversation. 
“Just for today. He was clear that I would only be a substitute.” 
Your brows furrow at that. Maybe Lo’ak doesn’t mind watching over you as much as he lets on. Then again Lo’ak never fails to find your company amusing, and for all the wrong reasons. Some days you wonder if Neteyam would really be cross with you for slapping his brother across the face. Maybe if you batted your lashes and played it off as self defense….
“Well I’m sorry you can’t be there.” 
It’s Spider’s turn to look confused. 
“Why?” 
“Colonel Quaritch is your dad, isn’t he?” 
“That asshole is nothing close to a father.” Spider’s jaw clenches, posturing already shifting to loom over you. He may be human but his six foot frame of striped muscle greatly outweighs your own. 
“Oh trust me, I know. Quaritch has been nothing but a tyrant my entire life. I honestly don’t know how he managed to get back into General Ardmore’s good graces after half the stunts he has pulled. That’s why I was excited for today. Finally see that bastard put in his place.” Spider watches you closely. In some ways it feels like all he is missing he ears and tail of a Na’vi.
“Thought maybe you would want to see that too.” 
You know a good deal about Spider Soccoro. He is a story that is often shared among the recombinants but never in Quaritch’s presence. Many tales have been told of the feral stripped boy that was more trouble than worth. You wonder if the stories would have been different if he hadn’t chosen the Sullys in the end. Still, even with their biased filters you know that they put Spider through hell. 
Kidnapping is traumatic enough without having to watch islands burn and friends cry for justice. 
“I don’t care what happens to that bastard.” Spider huffs before promptly turning around and fishing through the hard drives once more. You’ve killed the already strained mood. 
“Well then you’re a better person than me. Good for you.” Spider doesn’t answer but you can tell he is listening. 
A bitter laugh escapes you. “Hell, I’ve only had to put up with him from a distance and I would ring his neck myself if given the chance.” 
Spider’s fingers fiddle with a blue hard drive, eyes staring down thoughtfully. 
“But I guess I should trust Neteyam to give him what he deserves. Watch that monster tuck his tail and accept his failure for what it is.”  It’s the one cause you consider Neteyam and yourself on the same side of. 
Leaning back, you prop your feet up onto the creaky mattress. 
“Yeah.” He says shortly. 
“Ugh don’t get me started on Lyle though-”
“What are you trying to do?” Spider springs to his feet, glaring daggers down at you. 
“What do-”
“Do you think I’m really that stupid? Neteyam told me you would do this. Trying to spin a story that would allow you to escape.” 
You swallow the lump in your throat. You’re startled by the outburst to say the least but at this point there is nothing to lose. This man you only met fifteen minutes ago is the difference between spending the rest of your days here and returning back to Earth. Neteyam’s punishments are far from being enough to deter you from taking this chance. 
“I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to-”
“Would it kill you to just stay out of trouble for this one day? For my sake?” The look he gives you is anything but tender in comparison to his words. 
The bitter taste of impending failure is already settling in. You can already feel the immense weight of this dread and it springs you into action. This can’t be the end. 
It won’t be. 
“Can you really blame me though? For wanting to say goodbye to everything and everyone I have ever known?” 
Spider goes quiet, hazel eyes suddenly avoiding your own gaze. 
“Believe whatever you want but the fact is this day will never repeat. This is literal history and…” You voice quivers, blunt teeth sinking into your bottom lip in restraint. The last barrier to holding the words back. “The last glimpse at my old life.” 
You don’t allow the gravity of those whispered words to plant themselves. This is all a ruse after all. Just enough sadness to get Spider to cooperate and yet saying it out loud feels like tying an anchor to your ankle. Truly realizing how stuck you may be from here on out. 
Spider doesn’t say anything for a long while. Neither of you look at each other, letting the silence sizzle between you. 
And then finally….
“We have to be quick.”
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“And no touching anything. I mean it, shit out here can be extremely poisonous.” Spider rattles on, listing yet another rule to follow as the two of you venture through the thick terrain. You roll your eyes. You may not be a match for the creatures of Pandora physically but you’ve studied enough to understand what to stay away from.
“We’re there for five minutes tops, got it?” Spider says as he pushes a hanging branch out of your path. 
“Yes sir.” You salute him playfully. Now that you are less than a mile away from Bridgehead a certain giddiness begins to take over. It swirls together with your nerves and apprehension but it doesn’t deter you. This is the closest you have been to freedom in a week. 
Eywa’s mightiest creatures could not keep you from your goal. 
Years down the road when you wake up from kyro this will all be some awful dream that embeds itself into your revenge arch. Starting with Miles Quaritch of course. 
“I’m being serious. Neteyam will kill me if he sees you out here. I’m sticking my neck out for you.” 
“It will be worth it.” You say simply, a skip in your step when you recognize the familiar path that leads back to Bridgehead. This the same one you had carved deeper with every trip you had taken to your oasis. Looking back there is nothing more you regret but the sight of it still makes you smile. 
Spider never stops his stern rambling. Despite the fact that he is built like a Greek God, his speeches do little to intimidate you. Not when you’re used to nine feet of solid muscle and sharp canines. 
There is a bank that overhangs Bridgehead. A spot that Spider deems the perfect lookout for the two of you. You consider trying to convince him to get the two of you closer. After all, what good is a farewell that can’t be heard? Truth is, there really aren’t many people you would bother trying to say goodbye to. Jeremy moved on from you months ago, you have very little friends outside of that and what little you did have can be nothing but traitors by letting you get offered up without complaint. 
It feels like a risky move, however. Spider is sure to catch wind of your deception at the first hints of you disobeying.
“Here,” Spider mutters, suddenly pulling your arm so you stand directly in front of him. This leaves you sandwiched between the cliff’s edge and Spider’s tall frame. 
“Hey!” You snip at him, ripping your arm from his hold. 
“This way I can keep a close eye on you.” He smirks, hands resting confidently on his hips because he knows as well as you that his physical prowess greatly outweighs your own. It’s clear his trust is far from being earned. 
“Well do you have to breathe down my neck? Christ! I could use some space.” 
“No chance.” Spider responds shortly but his eyes are already scanning the crowd of RDA members below. 
“Neteyam doesn’t really take kindly to others sniffing around me.” 
You hate to play that card but it seems to be the only one you have in your deck and if you have any chance of getting out of here, Spider can’t be pressed up against you. A harsh glare is thrown down at you but with knitted brows and a fierce frown, the male takes a few steps back. It isn’t much, surely his presence will still be your first obstacle, but it’s a start. 
Every minute that passes by feels like torture. You watch as palettes of heavy equipment and artillery are rolled along the concrete with Na’vi supervising. Each one packed away is a signal of passing time, another stream of sand that falls through your hourglass of opportunity. The real nerves, however, kick in when the line of RDA members are escorted onto the ship. 
How long is it going to take them to load everyone?
How long until your hopes are dashed?
You spot Neteyam taking his place at the head. He is dressed up in his traditional Olo’eyktan gear completely with a feathered mantle and oval forehead jewelry, but this time he holds a gun. He holds it with confidence, finger strategically placed over the barrel and ready to strike at a moment’s notice. His golden eyes spark today like fire. Even from your lookout spot from above, you can feel that darting heat. 
You pray that they never fall on you again. 
Spider shifts over your shoulder suddenly, blonde dreads ticking your neck. You scramble out of his space but instead of jerking you into place as you expect, he takes your spot at the front. Brows knitting together, you watch him carefully as he crawls forward. 
Finally you spot what has captured his undivided attention. 
Colonel Miles Quaritch sternly leads his band of mutants through the crowd. They tower so high over the rest of the Sky People the sight is almost comedic. However, Spider is doing anything but laughing. His mask fogs up as he watches the scene with intensity. 
It’s like he is dead to the world, eyes trained on the man that has been anything but a father to him. 
You expect him to cheer, snarl, anything that shouts of victory. It was promises of seeing karma after all that had bought you this outing but Spider is silent and still. And then there is something else that flashes over his demeanor, a pang of emotion that is hard for you to place. 
Pain?
Hatred? 
Guilt? 
This swirl of tangled feelings is confusing.
Perhaps there is still so much more to learn about Spider Socorro. 
Regardless, this is your chance and you plan to take it. Tension bleeding into the moment you watch Spider diligently while beginning to back away. It feels as if the world’s ambience has been muffled into background noise and the only sound breaking through is the obnoxious puff of each breath through your mask. Neteyam hadn’t given you the serum shot this morning, assuming you would be spending the whole day in the outpost. Now, however, you wish he had. 
Spider is so enveloped in the moment, however, that he gives no recognition of the sound or even branch you clumsily snap when backing down from the cliff’s edge. 
There is no telling how long this trance will last or at what point you will be out of ear shot so you risk it all. 
Bare feet tingling in protest, you race across the forest floor. There’s no sign of an easy and stealthy way down into Bridgehead. Going back down your normal path would risk Spider spotting you race by. That’s not an option but neither is falling to your death. On the east side the cliff shallows out into a grassy hill. If you’re lucky enough you might just be able to creep down it and remain hidden beneath the heavy greenery. 
Upon reaching it, however, you step on loose dirt and the world rapidly spins around you. With neither a hint of grace or stealth you clumsily roll down the hill. Your muscles ache by the time you clunk to the bottom and you’re sure there are other injuries to be found. Adrenaline dulling the pain and panic, you dart to hide in the nearest bush instantly. 
The scene is so much louder now that you are up close. Heavy trucks make blaring beeping sounds while reversing and Na’vi freely let out loose cries of victory and foreign threats. The commotion is just enough to have your presence remain undetected. 
You don’t bank on that lasting for long though.
Your scanty traditional Na’vi attire is sure to draw attention. You need different clothes and you need it fast. Scaling around the outskirts of the chaos, you miraculously manage to make it to that familiar run down door. Sector two-your building. 
Paranoia constantly scraping at your attention, you barely let the room equalize before ripping your mask off. These hallways feel so different than you remember them. Perhaps it is the feel of the metal floors beneath bare feet or the lacking furniture and crowd. It sends a chill up your spine as you sprint towards your room. 
How much time do you have?
They can’t have loaded more than half of the crew by now.
And yet, the sight of deserted halls makes your feet slap against the floor faster. 
Get dressed. Immerse yourself in the crowd. Hide until take off is through and then find a kyro capsule.
You mentally check through this list. 
Piece of cake. 
Maybe saying it out loud would make it sound less like a fool’s hope. 
Fuck it. The odds don’t matter and neither do your nerves. This is a necessity, pure survival and that will be enough to keep you going. It will because it has to. 
Your feet slip across the laminated floor when you frantically scramble to go back the way you came. Two tall and ominous shadows wrap from around the opposite corner and you are afforded just enough time to dart behind a wall before Lyle and Z Dawg appear. 
“You’re an idiot.” She says. 
“Yeah yeah say whatever you want but don’t pretend like you wouldn’t rip someone in half for a Big Mac right now.” Lyle defends himself, their shadows now paint the dimly lit corridor, stretching closer and closer to your tucked away spot.
You could run, but these are recombinants. They would pick up the sound of your footsteps in an instant. The wind from your sprint would carry your scent. 
“Sure, but I asked what your first meal back on Earth would be, not what your guilty pleasure fast food order is.” 
“These savages can keep their overgrown weeded garden of a planet. I want some fucking chicken nuggets!” 
As their voices become louder it appears that running will be your only choice after all. 
“I don’t even know why I ask at this point.” She sighs and a short hiss echoes down the hallway. 
You swallow the lump in your throat, feet repositioning as you prepare yourself to run. If you were smart you would have already been halfway down the hallway at this point but some part of you refuses to move. It clings to hope foolishly. 
“Well I’m sure-”
“Shut up asshole. The comm.” Z Dawg hisses and they both turn silent, no doubt listening to the orders on the other end. 
Your hands are shaking now, that tremor traveling up your shoulders as you await their response. 
“Copy that.” Lyle says and then the sound of heavy boots recedes into the distance. 
You can hardly believe your luck. 
That dark cloud of dread ripples away and hope takes its place once more. Maybe you can pull this off after all. 
Your room is exactly as you left it. No one has bothered to pack up any of your things or even dispose of your half folded laundry. This tiny corner of a shared living space has been your own for your whole life, everything you have known. It feels so small now. 
Rifling through the laundry basket you find a loose green tee and a pair of  tan shorts. You originally had a whole outfit planned for this day, something comfortable but nice. Those garments are, however, still crumpled up on the ground. This will have to do. 
As you hastily slip them over the beaded jewelry and tewng you pray to whatever god will listen that this will be enough to keep you incognito. You are barely finished buttoning up the shorts when heavy footsteps ring down the hallway. 
Their echo is soft, no doubt still several halls away but they are progressively getting louder. Now is not the time to take any more risks. This room is tiny and already cramped with scattered junk. Hiding under your bed would not only be idiotic but near impossible with the way your creaky bed  swoopes so low to the ground. There is, however, an old built-in cabinet above that you’ve used to hold your clothes. 
It’s just barely big enough for you to squeeze into so with those footsteps getting louder and your own terror sky rocketing, you push everything out of it and shove your body into the metal space. The door has metal slots with just enough slant to allow your visual through it. 
Your clammy right hand presses over your mouth when the door to the room creaks open.
Neteyam strolls in leisurely, eyes sweeping over the cramped space with interest. With wide eyes and strangled lungs, you watch him prowl through the area slowly. He bends down to run his fingers over the rumbled sheets, the back of his hand lingers over your pillow case. 
He takes his time looking through the various knick knacks and cords littering your night stand. He doesn’t hesitate to ball the old picture of Jeremy into his fists. Its remains are tossed to the side without care. 
Did he toss the real Jeremy like that?
You make a vow to find him as soon as you make it on board. 
Assuming Neteyam hasn’t already hunted him down. 
You could look for whatever is left of Jeremy.
You can’t think about that now, though. Not as your heart is pounding against your ribs like a bird trying to escape a cage. Not when Neteyam lifts his mask for a sip of air as he plays with your tiny music box. 
He is gentle with all of your belongings, roaming through the area like a man that doesn’t have hundreds of Sky People to threaten off of his planet. Surely, he will have to leave soon. He’s just here out of curiosity, more of his stalker tendencies pushing him to invade your space. 
The music box looks like a Christmas ornament in his palm and you worry that he will accidently crush it. It was a pain in the ass to get and a possession you have always treasured because of that. Neteyam’s ears push forward when he finally figures out how to start the music and that delicate ballerina begins to twirl. 
“Maybe it’s all of your silly trinkets.” He breaks the silence, you startle slightly. He can’t be talking to you, you remind yourself. Neteyam thinks he is alone, just nosing through your old room as he thinks out loud. “Is that what you miss so much? What has you running off and acting naughty, little gift?” 
He’s bluffing. There is no way he could know you are here. Your scent has to be strong in the room but that’s to be expected since this was your living space. Ironically this should be the perfect place to hide away. 
“You know,” He starts, carefully placing the music box back down. “I was planning on letting you bring some of these funny things back to our kelku once you start behaving. A little incentive to be my good girl.” 
The knot in your throat is near impossible to gulp down and when you do, his ears twitch. You don’t want to believe it. How did he find you? You tug your legs closer to your chest as if you can contort yourself into a small enough ball that will magically disappear. 
“But it’s obvious now that you respond better to retribution than reward.” 
It’s a miracle that your lip doesn’t split from how hard your teeth press into it. Neteyam may not be able to track your scent here but the smell of blood would be a dead giveaway. All signs point to being caught but you aren’t ready to hand over the last shreds of hope yet. Neteyam doesn’t know about the cabinet. He’s bluffing about knowing you are here. No one has seen you. 
“We can revisit the idea of a reward system later, pet.” 
The muscles in your legs are cramping beyond relief, begging you to stretch out. You don’t heed these discomforts, too paralyzed by the proximity of your captor. Neteyam on the other hand appears deceivingly content and relaxed, rummaging through your things as if he has all the time in the world. 
He carefully opens your nightstand drawer and those hairless eyebrows raise immediately. The bras are tossed to the side with the same care as the picture but then tiny little lace fabric hangs from his fingers. It’s far from your greatest problem but your cheeks heat anyways when he carefully observes your light purple panties. 
Out of all the drawers to open it seems that Neteyam knows just the one to torment you with. 
“Then again,” The Olo’eyktan smirks. “These are quite cute.” And this time instead of inhaling from the respirator he soaks in the scent from the small fabric instead. Your thighs clench together. 
“Wouldn’t mind having my little tawtute model these for me.” He hums, while pulling out several more pairs. He tucks them away safely in a small pouch attached to his loincloth. “That is, once I finally get rid of this rebellious streak of yours.” 
You allow yourself a small sigh when Neteyam goes around to the other side of the bed, just enough distance for you to breathe properly. 
“Time to come out, little gift.” He squats down onto his haunches, prowling across the floor like a predator on track. He must be searching for you and if that is true then you may still have a chance yet. Neteyam may think you are in here but he doesn’t know where exactly. 
Thoughts race through your mind at a thousand miles per minute. They twist and twirl to find some way that you could get out of this situation unscathed. The doorway is visible through the slanted slits of the cupboard. With the proper footing you may be able to close that distance with a courageous leap. And maybe, just maybe that would be enough to catch Neteyam off guard and give you a head start. 
You make one fatal mistake, however. 
If there is one thing a good prey knows to do, it is to keep sight of their predator at all times. 
Your feet don’t even get the chance to hit the ground, instead dangling and thrashing once you are caught with a strong hold around your waist. Hoping is waning but disappointment sprouts into increased vigor as your nails digging into his arms and legs struggle to kick back at him. 
“YOU MOTHERFUCK-” Your cursing slings into a shriek when Neteyam grabs a fistful of your hair and uses it to strongly crane your head backwards. His golden eyes are dilated until only a thin rim of molten gold is visible. The weight of his angry gaze takes your breath away. 
“Enough.” He enunciates the word, like a drawn sword ready to slash. “Listen closely, pet.” The lump in your throat goes down with a strained gulp. “There is not an inch of this Sky Demon hell hole or corner of this planet that you can run to without being drawn back to me. You are mine and I’ve done well to mark my property.” The fingers intertwined in your hair tickle over the back of your neck, no doubt leaving the trail of his scent behind. “You reek of me.” 
Tears gather at the corner of your eyes and you flutter them closed to avoid his burning attention. 
“As you should.” His voice rumbles as nothing more than a growl against the nape of your neck. 
“I never asked for this!” Your fighting dimms down to nothing more than squirming as gritting the choked words out sucks your energy away. Before you can do anything to stop it, tears blaze trails down your cheeks. “Just let me go! Please!” 
“Quiet, pet.” 
Another yank to your hair and the words die on your lips. It’s clear now that the time for fun and games is over. Neteyam wastes no time in throwing you onto the creaky mattress and covering your body with his own until he becomes a shadow blocking out the fluorescent light above. His thighs straddle your waist, putting just enough weight down to keep you in place. 
“No more tears.” He sighs, with down turned lips, but doesn’t pause his bunching of your tee shirt. “It’s clear I’ve been spoiling you too much.” 
A broken grasp is pulled from your throat when he easily tears the shirt straight down the middle. You’re not sure what you are trying to accomplish as you swat at his working hands. The shirt was neither your favorite nor of great importance but you still try to stop the onslaught of ripping. 
Confused and overwhelmed you squirm as he rips it into wide ribbons of fabric and then without warning you are flipped onto your stomach. You scramble to crawl away but Neteyam’s plants a foot on your ass and that is unfortunately all it takes to pin you down. Your hands are snatched next, forced together behind your back as the ripped stripes of your own shirt are used as makeshift rope to tie your wrists together. 
Something about him using your own personal clothing to keep you bound for him has your legs kicking out fiercely. It won’t do much damage even if you manage to hit him, but there needs to be an outlet for your anger. You need to feel like there is still some wreckage for you to inflict. The last tiny shred of power that you cling to for dear life. 
Neteyam isn’t in the mood to put up with your outbursts. Much like a fresh kill from his hunting trips he keeps you pinned and makes quick work of binding you imobile. The action is so well rehearsed and instinctual in fact that he already moves on to his next task of destroying your shorts. 
Shrieks and small clawing fingers are simply background ambience for the Olo’eyktan as he works. Surprisingly the small tawtute sized Na’vi clothing is not exempt from the male’s destructive hands. They too become nothing more than rolling beads and scraps of fabric falling to the floor. 
Your string of bloody curses are only temporarily interrupted by your own gasp when Neteyam takes a seat on the bed and throws you over his knee in one swift move. Kicking is no longer an option for your rage when he swings one leg over both of yours. Blood rushes to your head but even dizziness can’t stop your violent outrage. 
However, it appears a cracking smack to your upturned ass can. 
The pain doesn’t ripple forward until a few moments after your shock has subsided. Neteyam has always had creative ways of punishing you but this is different. You’d figured that he would never lay a hand on you after all that he has droned on and on about how important it is to protect a fragile thing like you. 
But another hit accompanies the first and this time you can’t hold back your small squeak. 
“Just as I thought.” He spanks you again, his hand mercilessly hitting both cheeks with every strike. “You’ve been practically begging for a firmer hand.” The cry that the next rapid three slaps pull from you is one that you don’t recognize. 
“Pretty little things like you still struggle to remember their place.” 
“Stop! Stop!” You shriek, trapped legs still fruitlessly sprawling for escape. 
“Don’t worry, little gift.” He squeezes one of your pink cheeks after this last spank. “That’s what I am here for. I won’t let your silly little tawtute tendencies keep you away from me.” 
It doesn’t take long for the color of your backside to match your face as the blood drains to your head. Neteyam is persistent, hardly batting an eye at your cries and shrieks. From cursing to death threats, none of your spewed venom makes him flinch. If anything you manage to catch his small smirk when you twist to glare up at him. You don’t make that mistake again when you find this behavior only rewards you with condescending coos from the Na’vi. 
“That’s a good girl. Let all those nasty words go.” He purrs, heavy hand never letting up on your poor bottom. 
It’s this praise that has your mouth clamping shut. You hold back any and every sound you can as your ass takes a beating. Which is not a lot when the Na’vi male has unfathomable strength and your backside already feels like flames could erupt from it at any moment. 
“Oh pet, I’ve hardly even touched you and you’re already blushing so pretty for me.” Neteyam hums in delight, hand roaming over your burning ass like an art piece just waiting to be admired properly. 
Hardly even touched you?
Is this just his way of being an ass or are you truly that far from the finish line?
You jolt when one finger slips between the crack of your cheeks, teasing over your hole gently. A sound caught between a scream and whimper erupts from you without thought. Bound hands flatten and flail to cover the untouched area but Neteyam simply chuckles and lets his own hand retreat. 
“Mawey, tiyawn.” Neteyam pats your backside softly, almost in a casual reassuring manner. “Another day.” 
It’s hard to say what is more humiliating. Being bound and turned over the Olo’eyktan’s knee like a naughty child or the wetness trickling from your pussy at the feel of his teasing fingers in a place you’ve never dared let anyone else explore before. 
Pain is a great distraction from your humiliation. So much so that it eventually motivates you to dash pride to the side and begin your pleading. 
“A-ah Neteyam! I’m sorry! I’m sorry…eh-ah I-I’ll be good!” It’s not even clear what you are trying to say anymore. Your mouth runs on autopilot, throwing out any line of remorse in hopes of one doing the job. “I ngh-ah didn’t mean to! I won’t run! Can’t take anymo- ah! Neteyam!” 
He reigns his hits to warm the underside of your thighs too, moving between that vulnerable area and your ass in such an erratic way that it is impossible to anticipate where the next will land. 
Plea after plea is thrown out but resembles nothing more than garbled desperation, nothing that can pass as a full sentence.
However, one call catches his attention.
“Olo’eyktan please!” 
The sound of slapping skin stops. 
Tears continue to plunge down your cheeks even without the constant spanking, your ass burns and tingles in shock. The tuft of his tail poruses over your naked thighs, sending a sensation both painful and ticklish. 
“Repeat, pet.” 
“Wha-what?” You stammer, voice thick with tears. 
“What did you say?” That large hand comes down once more like a crack of lightning. 
“AH! Olo’eyktan O-Olo’eyktan please please please. No more no more!” 
He smooths over your knotted hair, pushing it away from your sweaty temple and tear stained face. It’s tempting to look away from his soft gaze but intuition tells you to let him see the trembling state he has left you in. Let him witness how pitiful and distraught a simple spanking has made you be. 
“I….I’m sorry, Olo’eyktan.” 
Neteyam smiles like one would at a lover, a tender pride lacing his lips. 
“You’re learning, pet.”
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Putting batteries in that small remote was a mistake. A ridiculous useless mistake that now leaves you standing on shaky legs. The pink vibrator that has resided in your nightstand drawer dutifully on hand for years is now the source of your torment. 
Well, maybe not the source per say. 
No, the true origin of this humiliation stares back at you with knowing eyes and swatting tail, his large hand making that tiny remote look like a children’s toy. The vibrator buzzes inside of you on the lowest setting, but that relief can only last for so long with the way Neteyam enjoys jumping between the different levels. 
Every last shredded piece of your Na’vi and human clothing lays back on the floor of your old bedroom. The only savior of your decency is Neteyam’s cloak that he had thrown around your shoulders. With the size difference this cloak acts more like a dress and therefore gives you more coverage than you’ve had in a week yet somehow leaves you feeling more vulnerable than ever before. Trembling fingers never stray from the seams of the cloak, keeping it wrapped around you tightly as the crowds of humans and Na’vi continue to pass you. 
Neteyam has left you with one of the other Na’vi warriors but never out of his sight. It’s a miracle that your hands were cut loose in the first place but perhaps that is another sick joke the Olo’eyktan plays on you. He knows that you won’t run. He knows you can’t run. His attention and promised consequences for misbehavior are more than enough to keep you tucked in his pocket. 
That and of course his control over the rippling vibrations that torture your pussy. 
The nearest warrior is sure to be noticing your frazzled state by now. At least he has the decency to hide his interest, unlike another Na’vi that watched from the sidelines. Lo’ak, leaned against one of the hoverships like it’s a random Tuesday afternoon, watches with a small smirk and perked ears. If Neteyam notices, he doesn’t seem to have a problem with it because Lo’ak is left unbothered in his ogling. 
The tempo increases, the vibrator now picking a pattern of random pulses that bash against your sweet spot. Bottom lip bleeding now from your biting, it’s a struggle to keep your moans at bay. With the heavy machinery moving and hundreds of Na’vi and humans passing surely there must be enough noise to block out any degrading sounds you make. But you can’t take that risk. You’ve made the mistake of underestimating the Na’vi’s enhanced hearing before and that is what has landed you here. 
Neteyam twirls the tiny remote between his fingers like a fidget toy as another Na’vi warrior comes to report. 
You start to commiserate the loss of that ridiculous human sized loincloth Neteyam made you because at least then there was some fabric barrier to hide your wetness. Now, the thick Pandoran air runs up the cloak and over your soaked thighs and cunt. It reminds you constantly how pathetic you have become as orgasm after orgasm has escaped your grip. Even worse it reminds you how easy it is to carry that aroused scent through the breeze for all Na’vi to detect. At that rate, worrying about your noises is the least of your concerns. 
Lo’ak reloads the machine gun with practiced hands, moving with muscle memory so he can continue to stare and send silent messages your way. No doubt he is theorizing on what exactly his brother has done to diminish you to such a state. His eyes dance with those ideas, the little quirk of his lips telling you just how creative and vial his thoughts have turned. 
Another level up and this time it is Neteyam’s eyes that have you squirming. Your impending orgasm coils tighter and tighter with every passing second and you're so desperate to find some way to release this energy that your bare feet begin fidgeting against the concrete. It’s almost like a little dance, one that has Lo’ak laughing under his breath. 
It stops.
You breathe. 
There is some sort of commotion off in the distance. Not one that you can truly pin down the source of but you do notice the way Neteyam nods as a Na’vi female says something to him. With a wave she is dismissed and then the Olo’eyktan saunters off. Although slightly worried over the trouble, you are grateful for the respite. 
And then a nightmare unfurls before your eyes.
Instead of marching to the issue, Neteyam takes a pit stop to converse with his younger brother. Lo’ak’s tail whips in the wind at whatever is whispered in his ear but the real horror comes when that traitor of a remote is handed over to the younger Sully male. 
You are seconds away from stomping over there and crushing that pink little weapon before the other male can wield it. However, your dutiful guard places a hand on your shoulder after just one step. His eyes remain locked forward but the warning is enough as his hand retreats. You are still being watched. 
With one last glance your way, Neteyam has the audacity to give you, his little pet, a warm smile before leaving you in the hands of his brother. 
Lo’ak swings the gun around to his back in favor of playing with his new toy. Every dark and viscous fiber left within you is channeled into the glare you give him. It should say everything that your lips can not.
Don’t you dare.
Don’t you fucking dare. 
Now would be a good time to look into Na’vi curses, anything you could betrix upon him for what he is about to do, because of course Lo’ak won’t back down. If anything that fire in your eyes lights his own delight and has him sitting down and bracing forward. Forearms resting on his thighs he clocks your every movement.
This is sure to be the best entertainment the bastard has had in a long time. 
He savors the passing moments of anticipation. Never backing down from the ultimate seething looks you give him. Finally a crash sounds and that distraction is right when Lo’ak sets the vibrator to high. From zero to one hundred, pleasure rackets through you like a shock wave. The force is so much that it temporarily makes you stumble on your feet. The other guard wordlessly steadies you back into place. 
Lo’ak’s grin is feral. 
This silent battle slips between your fingers so quickly it is hard to comprehend, because all that can register in your brain is how fast you are hurtling towards an orgasm. After Neteyam’s denial your body is high strung and ready to take any sensation as fuel to push you over the edge. Nails digging into the soft fabric of Neteyam’s cloak, pleasure rockets higher and higher until only the whites of your eyes are visible. 
Knees bowing inward, ecstasy is finally yours. 
There isn’t enough energy left to question why Lo’ak let you reach your high. Instead you focus on riding that wave while simultaneously keeping upright. 
That persistent buzzing against your sweet spot continues until your nerves are short circuiting. The pleasure turns to overstimulation and you give Lo’ak a look that alerts him of this change. 
His amusement tells you that he already knows your predicament but his thumb remains far from the off button. 
Pathetic noises now bubble up your throat without restraint as pleasure ebbs into pain. It switches back and forth until another release is on the verge of consuming your being. The guard next to you doesn’t say anything when he helps to sit on the cold ground. 
The second orgasm has a bitter taste to it but your greedy pussy clenches around the toy all the same. It’s almost too bad that Neteyam decided not to gag you because at least that would muffle your cries as you rock down onto the toy. Lo’ak gulps at the sight, pupils blown wide when the first glimmer of tears scrape down your cheeks.
Regardless, he shows no mercy as he takes in the show with undivided interest. 
Vaguely you register the bustle and commotion around you as different Na’vi and humans rush to and fro, giant machinery finally backing into place but they are only background noise to your third orgasm. 
Your body is caught between delight and despair with every passing second. When you are close to reaching your peak for the fourth time your body is resistant to get you there all the way. The intense buzzing in your pussy is driving you wild but still not enough to drag out another orgasm after being too overstimulated. Despite the soreness that emanates from your wrecked hole, your clit throbs in agony. Begging to be touched. To be licked. Pinched. Flicked. God, anything at this point.
Memories of Neteyam doing just that surface, pushing you closer and closer to another dumbing climax and yet only serve as a reminder of how you are not getting the treatment you so desperately need. Pride is dashed to the side, you’ll worry about the consequences of grinding onto the toy in public later. 
Lo’ak’s hands roughly brush over his inner thighs and it draws your attention. The taunt muscle and smooth skin of those thighs would surely brush over your intimate flesh so perfectly. He would probably help you too, hands clawing at your hips as they urge you back and forth over the area. Even more so, the younger brother would not be able to pass up the opportunity to show his power over the situation, muscles flexing to tease your clit oh so beautifully. 
You’re not sure when Lo’ak became telepathic but he grips his knees and gives you a look that says he knows every dark desire that plagues your brain. His nails press into that soft flesh and drag until there are pretty red marks left behind. If you crawled over there sweetly, would he let you ride? Maybe if you healed those red marks with open mouthed kisses and kitten licks. 
Unaroused you would be ashamed of this train of thought but she is so far gone now. 
The only thing your poor abused cunt is begging for was attention. Anything to get this awful mix of heaven and hell to bleed into euphoric release and rest. 
The only thing stopping you from reaching down and finishing the job yourself is the assurance that Lo’ak would snip all pleasure in a bud at the sight of any touching. 
The area has been cleared of invaders. Na’vi begin to make their way off to the hills before take off but you are none the wiser. Caught in your own little bubble you don’t even notice when a sudden shadow blocks out the sun. That is until, large warm hands slip under the cloak and skate over your spread legs. 
Such a simple touch has never made you whimper more. 
Neteyam’s accent is thicker now, words heavy enough to hardly understand the meaning as he coos at you. “There’s my sweet pet. Little slut just wants to come again, don’t you?”
His fingers force your legs to spread even wider. Lo’ak’s stares as if his glare could heat up enough to burn through that cloak. 
With such delicacy it makes you want to scream, Neteyam uses two fingers to part your pussy lips and expose your pulsing clit. The other hand slithers down to rest on your thigh as you try to buck against the air. 
“Come for your Olo’eyktan, pet,” He growls and with the other hand he begins delivering rapid little taps to your clit. It’s humiliating how tiny the gesture that puts you over the edge is but you paint the toy white regardless. 
When the vibrator finally takes a rest you are too far lost in your own little world. Neteyam swaddles you in the cloak and carries you in his arm as you bury into his chest. And conveniently, when you are tucked back in the forest there is no awareness left in you to recognize the sound of launching ships. 
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As always interaction and feedback not only means the world to me but also as a great motivator for writing and updating<3
Taglist: @pandoraslxna@neteyamssyulang@tallulah477@criticallybella@sullybrothersmate@lilghostiequinni@chershire23@lala-1516@teyamshuman@yawnetu@puddle-nerd@ratchetprime211@avatargirly @chocolatechocobo91 @kariz-stark@bunnscoffe @avatarwifey @universal-s1ut@witchsprit@heart-an0n @riri-is-a-girlie @rivatar@minnory@ikeyniofthetayrangi@ilovehobi101@spicymayyo@v4mp1rr3@nilsavatar@bambithewriter@quicktosimp@itchaboi-itchyboy@thehoneymushroomhealer @ilytulipse @witchsprit@imwutim@crazy4books1@thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction@danniackerman@dayyzlol@justabite7 @krispyjellyfishkitty @neteyamtesuli @sakurayuki8655-blog @deadpool15 @valeriinee @leaveitbythewave @aqxllo @mxnygn @crazed-flower @crimsonroses666 @property-of-neteyam @rejectedbytheempty
Let me know if I missed you. It's getting a littly tricky to keep track of everyone haha
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ann1-wr1tes · 2 months
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Nanami Kento NSFW Alphabet
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Dynamics: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: Spicy Alphabet
Warnings: Adult themes, obviously smut, mentions of giving head, light bondage
A/N: So this is a little apology for not writing anything for ya'll. I've been busy but hope you guys enjoy this!
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
-Kento is incredibly attentive and sweet after having sex. Honestly he always wants to check in with you after, to make sure you're okay and to make sure he knows if there was anything you didn't like. Then of course he's quick to get you some water and perhaps one of your favored snacks. Then he likes to run a bath for you and help clean you up. While he cleans you, he's always sure to press kisses everywhere he can. If there are any bruises anywhere, he'll always be extra attentive with those.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
-His favorite body part of his partner would be your tits. Doesn't matter what size, color, or shape. He is a man who can appreciate some boobs...respectfully of course. Though if you asked him he'd be too much of a gentleman to ever fully admit that.
-On himself her particularly likes his hands. After all, he can do so much with them. He can use them to smooth down your body, gently run through your hair, or of course he would finger fuck you until your crying.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
-He honestly doesn't care to make too big of a mess so he definitely prefers to cum inside you. Of course, he'll wear a condom if you ask and i'll be honest, he's got a huge breeding kink.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
-He 100% uses pictures of you from his wallet to jack off. It may seem innocent when he pulls out his wallet and looks upon all the pretty pictures he has of you but sometimes behind closed doors, he misses you so much that he can't help it. You're just too cute~
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
-I can imagine Kento has a little bit of experience but not a lot. He's a busy, busy man keeping up with his job and then going back to Jujutsu Tech so he probably doesn't get laid that often. Granted, he has watched some porn but its not a whole lot.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
-Any position where he can see your face. Though I do think his two favorites would be Missionary and Cowgirl. Missionary is nice and easy, not too complicated and he can still fuck you good while getting to look at all the pretty expressions and reactions you have.
-For Cowgirl he'd really like that when he's tried from a long day of work. He gets to hand over the reins to you a little while you slowly roll your hips over his. He loves planting his hands on your hips and helping you as your eyes roll into the back of your head and you succumb to your own pleasure.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
-Kento definitely is not the joking type when it comes to having sex. He may crack one mildly funny comment here or there but his main focus is on making you feel good.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
-Despite his lack of free time, he is always sure to clean himself up. Self care is important he likes to feel well groomed and clean for himself and you.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
-In the moment Kento can be very sensual and romantic. His eyes are on you, watching your reactions, feeling you and your body. It can be very intimate and I think Kento is one of those guys who doesn't just fuck, he prefers to make love.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
-Probably not too often, but often enough. Sometimes he can't come home until late at night and he feels the need to rub one out, or sometimes when you aren't around he takes matters into his own hands. But for the most part, he has you and his patience is incredibly strong so he'll wait for you if he has to.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
-Breeding kink. He 1000% has a breeding kink. He would never flat out tell you that he wants kids but if you ever went to him and told him that you desired to have a family, the man would jump on it so fast. There's just something about cumming inside you that gets him hard. I think he'd also like nipple play (giving and receiving). Oh and how could I forget..he'd also have a thing for bondage. With his tie or belt to be specific.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
-He definitely is not a huge fan of doing it in public or spaces where you could get caught. He definitely is more of the private type and just prefers the comfort of his or your house.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
-Oddly enough, you could be doing something as simple as washing dishes or folding laundry and he'd be turned on. There's something about doing simple, domestic things that gets him going.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
-He would never be too hard into choking. He's just not a huge fan and he doesn't like the idea of hurting you. He also isn't too keen on sharing you either. So no threesomes.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
-This man loves to give head. He absolutely adores it. There's just something about getting to bury his face into your wet heat for hours on end while rutting into the bed that does something to him. He finds it to be a form of stress relief and is one of his favorite ways to wind down after a long day.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
-I feel like it depends on his mood. Normally he's into slow and sensual. I'm talking about deep, passionate kisses, slow rolls of his hips, making sure you feel everything he's giving you. But if you ever decide to act like a brat or he just feels pent up and frustrated then he may go a bit rougher than usual. Of course if he's ever too rough with he'll always apologize and he probably feels too guilty to go too rough with it.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
-Kento isn't a huge fan of quickies. I mean why rush it when he can have you all to himself? But if he really needed it, he wouldn't be completely opposed to having a quickie. But only for dire situations.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
-He's not too risky. He likes to play it safe and make sure you are comfortable. But if you ever wanted to try something new then he'd listen and consider it.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
-It depends on how tired he is and how pent he is. I'd say he could last a good 3 rounds, taking about five minutes each. But at the end of the day I think it matters most about how long you can last? He'll stick it out for however long it takes you to cum, which trust me....it won't take too long.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
-Not completely against toys but he doesn't own any himself. If you were to buy some he'd totally be fine with using them on you and it comes to himself you may need to convince him a little but he could never really say no to you...
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
-If you are being a brat then he will 100% tease and hold back your orgasm. But in general, no. He's not too big of a tease.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
-Kento starts off quiet, maybe with a few hushed words here and there, a few assurances and compliments before he starts to breathe deeper. his breaths turn into small groans and pants and by the end of it I think you could get a few good moans out of him right before he cums.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
-As much as he hates it and is shameful of it, he steals your dirty panties. He just got so, so desperate one time and you weren't around. He needed something of you and he happened to find your dirty clothes bin. After that he became almost addicted. The scent of you lingering in his nose, the feel of your panties around his cock feels too good.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
-When soft i'd say he's about 6 inches and when hard he goes up to 7 inches. Its long-ish and girthy and can be a lot to take on sometimes. When he gets hard has a rosy red tip and one or two noticeable veins that run up and down his shaft.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
-His sex drive is on the average side but can be a bit high when he gets pent up. Sometimes he's so busy that he doesn't notice but as soon as he's with you all of the sudden his dick is hard and he has no idea what happened.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
-He always waits for you to fall asleep first. No matter how tired he is he'll always make sure you are comfortable and safe in his arms. Sometimes he'll even read to you if you ask. His deep, soft voice lulls you to sleep as reads over endless words on pages from his favorite book.
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kombuuuu · 10 months
Text
Birthday Girl.
Earth42!Miles x Reader + Pavitr x Reader
“Happy Birthday, [Name].”
Headcanons and snippets C:
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i want to wife him
E42!Miles: Purple Pavitr: Orange You: Pink Rio Morales: Blue
Miles Morales:
Would wake you up with breakfast in bed
if it’s a day where he’s called in for a job he’ll fight Aaron on getting the day off for you
although, the fight wouldn’t last long
Aaron likes you too, so with a sigh and a pinch of his nose bridge, he concides
letting Miles have the day off but only with a promise of working him to the bone the next day over
he rolls his eyes but the smirk on his face makes his uncle scoff a laugh
so with breakfast in hand, he’s gently shaking you awake
whispering your name with the promise of food
your sleepy voice greeting him makes the butterflies in his stomach awaken
“[Name].. Wake up, Chiquita, I have breakfast.”
“Food? Hi, Miles.”
He smiles at your slurred words, and you peak your head from under your covers. Pulling yourself to sit up.
There’s a spread of breakfasts foods in front of you, all your favourites.
“Miles..”
“Happy Birthday, Mami.”
“I’m gonna kiss you.”
“I won’t stop you.”
Spoils you with gifts
literally anything he could’ve possibly seen that you even might have liked
designer shoes to match with him (Nike Airs)
Matching jewellery as well, literally adores matching with you
gets you a chain with his name on it and one with yours for himself
whether you like silver or gold he gets you some premium shit
likes the look of white gold so that’s what he got himself
would do genuinely anything you want him 2
takes you to your fav nail tech to get you both done
he lets you choose the colours but makes sure to include purple with his own
after he takes you shopping,
you tell him off
he literally already bought you so much
knows what he’s doing tho
“Miles!”
“Aye, ma. C’mere.”
“We’re not going in there.”
“Yes we are.”
He settles his hands along your waist, turning you towards the boutique.
“Miles— It’s expensive in—,”
“I have an opening booked for us.”
His monotoned voice dragged in your ear, a shiver in its wake.
“Wha— C’mon!”
“Don’t pout at me, Mami. Might have to take you home.”
“I’m not pouting—“
“Hi.”
“Hello Mr.Morales, Right this way, Please.”
“Mr.Morales..?”
take you both to a boutique to get you clothes for the night
let’s you try on any dress you want
you try and pick the ones that don’t look too pricey
he catches on pretty quick and ends up picking the dresses for you to try himself
makes you show off for him
likes how you look in expensive shit and makes it known
“Damn, ma. Gonna have to buy that one for a later date..”
“Baby, no event is going to come up anytime soon that big enough for a dress like this.”
“I’m a patient man.”
ends up getting something that complements both your nails and the matching jewellery
also buys the matching shoes
he had a huge thing for seeing you in heels, but if you prefer flats he’ll make the workers find you something
gets a suit for himself
he’s been here before so they know his measurements.
gets a simple white blouse, with a dark grey set, a matching waist coat with it. And a black tie to go with the black buttons on the waist coat and cuffs.
doesn’t really bother with shoes
just figured he’s gonna wear his normal shit
when checking out, he makes sure to distract you with talk on what he plans for the night
adding tidbits that have both you and the store clerk blushing
the poor clerk just trying to ring you up
He leant over to whisper in your ear, rather loudly for someone “trying” to be discreet.
“Can’t wait to take you home, Chiquita. Seein’ you all dolled up for me? Jesus..”
“Oh my god.”
“That’ll be—“
“I got it.”
The clerk handed you the bags quickly before printing the receipt and going to rush off.
“Thank you, Have a nice day.”
Miles’ rumbling chuckle made your knees weaken.
“Yeah, we will.”
Takes you home to get ready,
touching you the whole time you do your make-up
whether it’d be a hand smoothing down your shoulders, massaging you while you worked
or his grip on the expanse of your waist
or even his nails raking down your back, watching the goose bumps rise as he did, infatuated
eventually you were both ready
and it was late
he took you to a high end restaurant, Electric Lemon it was called
and when you walked in greeted by his family, mingling with yours
you might have teared up a bit
“Chiquita? You ok?”
“Mmha..”
“If it’s too much we ca—“
“No, Miles, I love it. I love you—,”
You turned to him, the small smile gracing his lips a rare but gorgeous sight.
“This is perfect, thank you.”
“Love you too, Mi Cielo.”
“Oh (Name)! Feliz cumple! No es linda? Miles hizo increible!”
“Oh! [Name]! Happy Birthday! Isn’t this so nice? Miles did amazing!”
“Momma, Please—“
'Oh! Y Aaron era tan secreto sobre lo que era -'
“Oh! And Aaron was all secretive about what it was—,”
She leaned close to you, whispering “-así supe que toda fue para ti”
“,—so I knew it was for you.”
She smiled sweetly at you while you giggled back. Thanking her for coming to see you. She waved you off, walking you an Miles over to Aaron as she spoke.
“No, no me das gracias. Tu eres mi hija. Sería un crimen no venir.”
“No, Don’t thank me. You’re my daughter, it’d be a crime to not show up.”
You glanced over to Miles, seeing the sincerity behind his eyes when watching the two loves of his life interact so sweetly. You smiled back in turn.
He whisked you away from the party, after a while. Taking you to the more secluded parts of the rooftop. Completely devoid of life, he cradled your head to his and kissed you earnestly. Putting his Heart and Soul into loving you.
You giggled into his mouth, watching him smile back. You dragged your finger down the centre of his braids, something he’d come to love you doing. He pulled back from you, watching you smile up at him. His eyes shining with an endless love.
“Happy Birthday, [Name].”
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he is so boyfriend coded
Pavitr Prabhakar:
will do similar to Miles, but not with breakfast in bed
will wake you up with flowers and kisses and an outfit he knew you liked set out for you
like i said in this, sleepy you makes him go insane
he’d let you sit with him a while whilst you woke up, and would smother you in love, whispering his praise to you
pulls you into his lap to look him in the eye while he confesses how much he loves you like it’s the first time all over again
“Thithli, you mean the world to me—,”
He massaged the flesh of your thighs, resting along his waist. He was flustered looking up to you, knowing you were there, with him, drove him farther head over heels.
“—You’re the love of my life, getting older with you is the greatest blessing of my life.”
“Pav.. baby..” You whined his name, waking up to such affections would be something you could never get used to.
“I’m so glad you exist with me, Shonu.”
You shoved you head into his neck, hiding your lovey-dovey smile from him.
“Love you, Pavitr..”
“Love you more, [Name].”
When you’ve woken up more
he coaxed you for a shower, taking care of you like the doting lover he is
pats you dry and helps you dress, then dresses himself
all while telling you how you make him whole, how you’re the reason he’s here and he’ll never be as happy as he is with you
it’s obsessive, but you’re just as bad
you tell him more in touches than in words, and he takes it in stride.
he’s come to know your love language, both of you sharing touch, but you take in the quality time trait as well
so he makes sure to drag the day out as long as he can
makes the morning slow, brings you his gifts and starts the food while you open them
he pets your cat and cooks, watching you out of the corner of his eye
He’d gotten you a set of bangles with small spiders engraved, crested in diamonds.
ones matching to the ones he wears
accompanied with a matching collar for your cat, which you smiled at
he’d also gotten you smaller, sentimental things likes references to your first dates, massage oils,
and things you’d said you liked in passing, that’d he’d remembered. because of course he had
he smiles when you shyly cover your mouth, looking down at the things he’d gifted with teary eyes
knowing how hard it is for you to accept gifts,
he doesn’t say anything, just turns the stove down and walks over to kiss you
“You okay, Jaanu?��
You looked up at him from the paper in your hands, nodding with a pout of your lips and a tremble in your voice.
“Yeah—, Yes, I’m good.”
He leant over to kiss your temple, smiling as he turned back to tend to the food, “Thank you, Pav.”
He glanced back over at you.
“My pleasure, Thithli.”
you lie in bed together for another two hours after you eat
just taking in each others prescience and letting the calming white noise of a distant show in the background soothe you
you hold him close, listening to his heart beat
when a song comes on he recognises and he sings to it softly, the contented sigh you let out is involuntary
he eventually gets you up again, since you’re already dressed, you feed your cat and leave
he walks you through the streets of his home, bringing you to his favourite spots
to feed the stray dogs with him, or to grip onto him and swing over the immense traffic
“Pav, If I fall, I’m blaming you.”
“Thithli, you won’t fall. I promise.”
“Okay.. But if I do—“ He grabbed your waist and hoisted you against him, shooting a web to a high building and swinging you up. Using his bangles to create more momentum and fluidity with his swings.
“Pavitr Prabhakar! I’m going to kill you!”
“Kiss me? Doesn’t really sound like a threat..”
“I swear—“
His sweetened laugh interrupted your spiel, and you couldn’t even be mad.
he eventually leads you back to his house
where your friends and family (his included), are waiting for you.
They greet you in tandem, with a cute, fairly out of sync “Surprise!”
the furniture in his house had been pushed into the far corners and the tiles of his family’s large lounging area had been made into a make-shift dance floor,
everything else being decorated in a very honest sense
and if there was a ache in your chest for the love you’d felt then, no one but you would know
all your spidery friends were there as well— only making the evening even more special
festivities shown were upbeat and exciting and you hadn’t felt more of a community than you had at that moment
When a lull in the upbeat songs play, and a slower, more set tone starts through the speakers—, Pavitr cuts in, taking you from Hobie, who shoots him off with a wink.
He holds you close, starting a slow dancing sway with you.
“How’re you finding it, Shonu?”
The lights dancing in your eyes make you evermore pretty to him.
“It’s—.. Its beautiful Pav, I’m so happy,”
People had started to sway with you, keeping the middle of the floor clean for you and your lover.
“,Thank you.”
“Only the best for you, [Name].”
You’d swayed with him for another minute before the end of the song had approached. Him twirling you out and catching you in a dip whilst you laughed and went along with it.
He brought you up into a quick, cheesy kiss.
“How romantic.”
“Cause I love you.”
Your voice quietened. “Love you more, Spidey.”
He stared at you a moment longer, placing a kiss along your temple once more.
“Happy Birthday, [Name].”
FOR MY BDAY GIRL @juneberrie 🥳🥳‼️
and ty to my lovely translator 🫶 @kissmxcheek
(PUT ME IN A CELL 💥💥⬇️)
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3K notes · View notes
queers-gambit · 2 months
Text
Blue Bunny
prompt: you and the Twins show up to collect the same debt.
pairing: Tangerine x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 4.4k+
warnings: Tan's real name being Aaron, Lemon's real name being Brian, Mafia antics, depiction of murder, blood, guns, brief physical violence, given nickname, Daddy's Girl trope? dialogue heavy fic.
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"I like the lilac, what do you think? Maybe the yellow?"
"The pink's rather nice."
"How's about green? For St. Patrick's Day? Celebration of spring?"
Your lover chuckled over the receiver, phone set on speaker to the desk in front of you. "Think I prefer the blue," he replied, the smirk evident.
"You always prefer blue," you teased, handing the bottle of pale blue nail polish to your nail tech. "So, tell me, where are you now? Haven't seen yah all week," You pouted, placing your AirPods in to keep the conversation private. Not like it mattered, your nail tech, Collette, only spoke French, and she was the only other person in the room.
"'Fraid I can't divulge that information, sweetheart," Aaron sighed, "on a bit of business right now."
"Now? Like, in the present?" You chuckled, nodding at Collette when she pointed at the length of the acrylic.
"Yeah," Tan mused back, "say hello, sweetheart!"
"Hello, luv!" Brian, or otherwise known as Lemon, was heard calling. His twin, your lover, used the codename Tangerine for the contract agency they worked for - keeping their identities safe. Something you didn't necessarily have to worry about, being as your name held power. It was something like a shield in the criminal world, everyone knowing your surname dictated fear.
"Oh, hello, my sweetness," you cooed, grinning slyly. "What's it you two are up to? What sort of business are you on?"
"Ah, hang on a tick, love," Aaron mused, setting his phone down. You waited patiently, hearing a series of gunshots ringing out as you watched Collette paint the pale blue in sleek, professional strokes. Screams echoed over the line, tires screeches, several grunts of exertion, but you didn't so much as flinch, just admiring the work your nail tech did.
You blew on your nails, admiring the color.
Collette asked if you wanted to keep the paint shiny or add a matte overcoat, you humming, replying in French that you preferred the shiny coat. She held up a bottle of silver glitter, perking her brows, watching you nod - trusting her artistic eye.
"Hello? Still there, Bunny?" Aaron got back on the line, using your pet name he bestowed on you after your first date. You had a cold coming on, and after he kissed you, you instantly sneezed - nose screwing up like a fluffy bunny.
"I'm here," you smiled.
"Right, what color did you go with?"
You grinned, "Take a guess."
"Blue's your color."
"More like yours. I much prefer pastels, but I think this color's the best of both our preferences."
He chuckled, "Listen, yeah? You free Thursday? I'l be in your neck of the woods."
"Ah, I'm traveling this week," you answered with a pout, "what about next week?"
"I might be able t'swing that, yeah," Aaron agreed easily. "You hear from that Edward bloke recently?"
"No, no, I've told you, I'm done with him. You're quite the jealous type, you know, scared him off real good."
"Ah, well, don't like folks touchin' what's mine, now, do I?"
"Apparently not," you smiled, phone line beeping with an incoming call. "Oh, shit, I gotta go, Aaron, Daddy's calling."
"Mhm, and we all know you betta answer, huh?"
"It's how we all stay alive," you laughed. "Bye."
"See yah real soon, Bunny. Make sure your toes match!"
You hung up with a laugh, then accepted your father's incoming call, "Hi, Daddy."
"Hello, sweet one," he answered. "What are you up to?"
"Collette's doing my nails."
"Ah, very good. What color?"
"A pretty pale blue."
"Wonderful. Tell Collette I say hello. We'll have t'get her a sensational Christmas bonus with the way you work her."
You chuckled, "Yeah, yeah, I know."
"Listen, poppet, I need you to do something for me."
"Mhm, anything you need, Daddy."
"One of our associates is late on payment."
"How late?"
"A week."
"Oh, you're taking time in collecting," you mused, appreciating the full set Collette was detailing. "What's the hold up? Why wait?"
"I'm stuck in Prague."
"Daddy."
"I know," he rushed, "but I need you on this one, princess."
"Who's the associate?"
"Fella name Wilmer DeLano."
"I know of him, doesn't he own the chain of pharmacies? His son and I went to university together, right?"
"The exact same," your father confirmed. "I need you to go collect, princess, please."
"How much is the debt?"
"With the added week, chalks it up to $3 million."
"US dollars?"
"Yeah."
"Since when do we deal in US dollars?" You asked with a curled lip.
"Not the question I think you want to be asking."
"Uh, no, you're right, okay, sure, I can collect. Tonight?"
"He's not expecting it, knows I'm still in Prague. Take Rufus and Gunther with you for protection detail."
"I'd rather take Samuel."
"No, he's doing a different favor for me."
"Daddy."
"He's making a delivery, all right?"
"What about Gunther and Casey? Rufus creeps me out."
"That's fine," your father agreed with a sigh. "Listen, princess, tonight might get a little hairy, so I want you prepared."
"Daddy, I'm literally getting my nails done, I'm not handling a gun. That's what Gunther's for."
"I taught you better than that. You protect yourself, you can't depend on anyone else."
You nodded, "Yes, sir. Do you wanna call the boys or...?"
"I'll call them, don't worry. Just be ready to go by 8. Remember, princess, $3 million - and make sure you count it, too."
You agreed, promising you loved him, then wishing him luck in Prague on whatever his business was. After hanging up, Collette smiled, asking in French, "When are you going to tell him?"
"Tell him what?"
"That you have a boyfriend," she laughed. "He's your father, he'll be happy for you."
"I don't have a boyfriend."
"Oh, please," she scoffed, swiping the glitter on your nails. "That boy that you're always on the phone with? You're not hiding it, not from me."
You felt warmth flush your chest, heating your core. "He's still not my boyfriend," you mumbled stubbornly.
"He picks your nail colors," she grinned, "that's a boyfriend!"
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You double checked the address your father sent, nodding at Gunther in the driver's seat. "All right, lads, I want this a clean collection. Just got my nails done," you smirked, the lights of the three-story home still on and indicating DeLano must've been home.
"Yes, ma'am," Casey agreed, getting out of the backseat and opening your passenger door; helping you out, letting you readjust your clingy black dress. Gunther moved around the back of the car, grabbing the usual go-bag brought to every collection.
Slowly, carefully, you stalked up the long driveway, heels clacking with every pace. You let Gunther peer through the windows, him nodding before leading the way to the backdoor. It was simple enough to jimmy the lock open, silently swinging the door wide open and stepping over the threshold.
Casey went around the side to enter through the living room as you walked through the kitchen, surrounding your target. Wilmer DeLano was sat at his dining room table with his wife, looking up when you cleared your throat. He jolted in shock, but Casey blocked the only other doorway; his gun in hand, both clasped in front of him.
Gunther checked the rest of the house.
"Hello, Mr. DeLano," you greeted casually. "Oh, something smells wonderful in here, you cook this?" You asked his wife, casually strolling up to the table, Red Bottoms sounding over the polish hardwood floors. You plucked up a slice of roast, tearing a bite off and humming, "Oh, very good that. You're a lucky man, Mr. DeLano to have such a talented wife."
"Who are you?" The portly woman begged, flinching when you hummed and brandished your gun.
"Right, guessing you don't know," you nodded. "Your husband's in a bit of a lucrative business, Missus. Nice house, though," you gazed around, "lot of fine art you've got hung up, saw all name-brand appliances in your kitchen."
"H-He owns a chain of drug stores - "
"Yes, yes, yes, I know. Very true," you agreed, "but that's only a front, it's not the full picture. I'm here to help illustrate, if you will. C'mon, why don't we all go into the living room? Hear that's where the safe is kept."
"What is happening!?" Mrs. DeLano demanded, gun pointed at her temple.
"Up, up," you demanded.
Slowly, Wilmer lifted from his seat with his hands held in peace, "Okay, okay, we can - let's go talk in the living room. Just don't threaten my wife, she's got nothing t'do with this."
"For now," you agreed, gathering the couple to the living room couch.
"Boss," Gunther alerted, dragging your old university classmate and a previous lover, Edward DeLano, up from the basement, "found this one down there, smoking a joint. Rest of the house is clear."
"Wonderful," you nodded, gesturing for Eddie to sit. "You bring enough to share with the class?" But your old peer just looked around the room of criminals. "Guessin' he didn't wanna share," you pouted, then rolling your eyes. "Well, now that we've all gathered - "
Suddenly, there was a noisy crack and bang as the front door was kicked in, making all three of you gangsters turn with weapons drawn and aimed. However, you chuckled and dropped your arm when you realized it was the Twins, Aaron and Brian, or Tangerine and Lemon, standing in the splintered doorway.
"At ease, lads," you chuckled, holstering your gun to your thigh. "These are friends of mine."
"You outsourced the job? Out your fuckin' mind, princess? Huh?" Casey growled, not lowering his gun as Tan and Lem strolled in.
"Don't fuckin' talk to her like that," Aaron snapped instantly.
"Fuck off, Casey, I would never outsource, I know the fucking rules," you sound more amused than anything.
"Well, ain't this fun?" Aaron mused with a grin, strolling in casually before pausing in the open foyer as Brian tried shutting the door again - but it the very doorframe was shattered, making it impossible. "Sorry 'bout the front door, ol' chap, but you understand, yeah? 'S just business," He nodded at DeLano. "Bunny," he smirked at you, hands in his tailored suit pants pockets; polished Italian leather shoes gently scoffing across the floor.
Aaron magnetized to your side, coiling his arm around your waist to lean in and peck your cheek.
"Hi, handsome. Thought you weren't in town until later?"
"We wrapped a different job early," he answered. "Question is: what're you doin' here, love?"
"Collecting debt payment."
"No shit," he grinned, "so are we."
Your head cocked; leaning into his side with your own arm wrapping around his chiseled waist. You asked, "He owes my father money. You?"
"Owes an associate, too." He smirked at the DeLano's you two stood in front of, "Ain't that right, geezer? Got yourself into a bit of a pickle, didn't yah? Got a bit of a problem with the nose candy, don't'cha, naughty boy?"
"You told me you quit!" Mrs. DeLano hissed, "now you're in debt!?"
"I have it under control," Wilmer deflected stiffly.
His wife sobbed and begged, "W-Would someone please just explain what's going on!? Who are you people!?" Tears fell fast. "What do you want from us!?"
"This ain't rocket science, love, fuck you mean what do we want?" Lemon snickered. "You not listenin' or something?"
"Ah, right, well, I was in the middle of explainin' the situation," you told the Twins, waving a manicured hand in the air as if swatting away a pesky fly. "'Ello, lovie," you grinned at Lemon when he stationed himself on your other side, "good t'see you."
"Sweetheart," he nodded, offering a side hug when you released his brother, "been too long, hasn't it?"
"Since Cancún," you agreed. "Right, then! Onward, ho! Casey, darlin', would you be a doll and open the bag? Get us set up t'count up?"
"'Course, boss," he agreed, kneeling at the mahogany coffee table and unzipping the duffel you brought.
"Right," your hands clapped, the family jumping at the sudden sound, "back to what I was sayin'. See, your husband owns the drug stores, that's true," you allotted, "but he also launders money for the Mafia. For my father, my family. Maybe you've heard of him?"
You relaid your father's first and last name, seeing the Fear of God paint over the DeLano's. "What?" Eddie snapped at his father sat beside him. See, despite dating briefly, you kept your identity a secret from Ed. "What have you done!? Do you know who her father is? Know what he's done!? He fuckin' gutted his own brother - "
"Allegedly," you interjected sharply.
" - all in the name of business! You don't know what this family is capable of!"
"Yes, boy, I'm well aware, the man is my bloody business partner," Wilmer snapped right back.
"Well, not so much of a partner now, are yah? Just more of a fuckin' nuisance," You smirked, earning the attention again. "So, you see, your husband washes our money, earns a significant cut for shouldering the risk. Payment's collected every two weeks and as of today, your husband's a week late on delivering our cash load."
"I-I can explain, please - "
"No need," you cut Wilmer off, "because I didn't get t'where I am now by listening to pathetic explanations. I don't listen to excuses. Fact is, you own my father money, and because you're late, the total is now $3 million - and he wants it in US dollars."
"Well, ain't that somethin'?" Tan smirked at Lem. "Turns out, he owes our client some million, too."
You hummed, nodding, "Right, right, but see, thing is, if my Daddy ain't paid, he goes postal. Nasty business, truly messy, just a chaotic clusterfuck, bodies left everywhere, cities in shambles." Turning back to the family, you offered, "So, we're just gonna make this easy. You cough up what you owe, we won't blow your brains out all over this nice Persian rug. Mmmh! See that, love?" You pointed to the fabric you stood on, looking at Aaron. "That's real authentic, you can tell by the threading. Be a shame to ruin it, yeah? Exquisite work."
"Sure is," he agreed, "but did you see up there, Bunny? 'Bove the mantel?"
"Oh, yes," you breathed in impression, "an ancient Aztec tribal mask. An artifact, very hard to get your hands on. Heard the British Museum was actually lookin' for that particular mask."
"Seems like Mr. DeLano is quite the collector of finer things," Lemon admired, pointing at a portrait on the wall. "Oi! Is that what I think? Is that a fucking Monet?"
"Priceless," you nodded.
"Listen, right, we've got strict orders, yeah?" Your lover sighed, shifting his weight. "We're t'collect payment by any means, a message is t'be sent. Right?"
"That's right, yeah," Lemon agreed, crossing his arms. "Make sure this kinda misunderstanding don't happen again."
Gunther asked, "You need tarps for this?"
You refused, "No, we're not here to kill anyone. We're here to let a loyal man the opportunity to pay us what's owed."
"Listen t-t-to me," Wilmer begged, stuttering in fear, "I don't have the money. Okay? The government came sniffin', I had tax liens to pay off to avoid prison time - "
"More fuckin' excuses! Jesus, fuck, man!" You groaned. "Who do you think can do more damage - the bloody government or my family? Huh? Look, lad, I know you've got what we're owed, so, be a good li'l boy and open the safe. Huh?"
"Fucking do it, Dad!"
"What're you doing, Wilmer? What are you waiting for!? You can't play this game! You'll get us all killed!"
"I don't have the money! How can I pay with what I don't have!?"
"Why do I not believe that?" You mused to Tan.
"'Cause you've been in this business a helluva lot longer than he has," Tangerine / Aaron answered. "You know a rat when you smell one, I reckon."
You nodded, then pulled your gun out again, aiming, and firing at Eddie's knee to shatter his kneecap. Blood splattered onto the couch. He screamed in agony, you raging above the panicked cries and shocked shouts, "Do I have your fucking attention now, Mr. DeLano?"
Edward sobbed in pain, trying to staunch the bleeding, Mrs. Delano gasping and shrieking. "Do whatever they want, Wilmer! For fuck's sake! Just do it!"
"Listen to your wife, mate," Lemon advised. "Unhappy wife, unhappy life, innit?"
You aimed at Eddie's other knee, firing, causing another flurry of screaming, crying, and begging. "If you want your son t'only have two bullets in 'im, I suggest you get moving!" You barked, aiming at Wilmer. "Now!"
"Well, wait a tick," Tangerine halted, "if we're both on the job, how's it gonna look if the geezer's telling us the truth, hey? Who gets the money?"
"Let's find it first, darlin', distribute later," you breathed as Casey finished setting up the automatic money counter. "Mr. DeLano? I advise you to do what we're asking. See, I use to duck hunt - I'm an excellent shot. The next bullet's goin' in your son's head and I never miss. Now, where's the fucking money!?"
"I don't have it! Please!"
"The money, DeLano, where's the fucking money!?"
"Please - "
"You want a dead son!?"
"All right!" He sobbed, "All right, fine! Yes, you win! Just please, please! Don't hurt my family anymore! Please, just leave them alone! I'll do what you want, just - leave them out of this!"
You nodded, "Well, you fucked with my Daddy's money. Only right I cripple you in a sense. Hey? Now, chop chop," you checked your watch for the time, "I'm a very busy bee and don't have all night."
"You're a smart lad, DeLano, we know you would've wanted to prep for a comfy fall if it came to it," Lemon laughed easily from beside you. "Ain't no way you're bone dry, know you have money stashed for security. Just c'mon, mate, these two sickos consider this a sort of foreplay, they'll go all fuckin' night with yah if you continue to refuse," he gestured at you and Tan.
You tacked on, "Lotta places to shoot someone without killin' 'em. Just saying..."
Wilmer stood from the couch, his wife shooting across the newly vacated space to embrace her whimpering son. The money launderer approached the Monet painting and lifted it from the wall; revealing an iron safe. You shared a look with Tangerine, smirking as the combination was entered and the door opening.
"That's what we fuckin' thought," Tangerine sneered, seeing the stacks and stacks and stacks of money. " Fuckin' hell. Right, so, look, count up the lady first. We'll settle after," he sniffed, fluffing his suit's lapel, picking off a piece of lint.
Wilmer began handing stacks to Casey to count, one of your arms crossing over your stomach to prop up your other arm; hand limp in the air. "Faster," you demanded, the man sweating bullets.
"Oh, now, look at that," Tan mused, taking your hand to admire your fresh manicure, "you went with blue."
"Like it?"
"Looks real pretty, Bunny, but I know something these would look better wrapped around," he grinned, making you smack his stomach playfully. "You wanna go get drinks afta this? My treat."
"Sounds like a date," you accepted, Gunther storing the counted cash into the dark duffel. "How's it lookin', Casey?"
"Looks 'bout right, boss," he reported, handing over another stack of banded money. "You want me t'count the Twins up?"
"Oh, if you would please, darlin', it would be very helpful," you nodded. "But I'm having a thought, right? Stay with me, would yah?"
"Oh, go on, toots, you've got great ideas," Lemon encouraged with a chuckle.
"Not always," Casey snickered, "remember what happened in Texas? At that Western bar?"
"Oi, the electronic bull was not my fault!"
"But the incident with the tequila and donkey was!"
"Hush!" You scolded. "Listen, all right, you see, this fucker tried to stiff us all... Let's clear the safe out. Take away any safety net? Truly cripple him, set him back to nothing?"
"Sound like your father," Gunther chuckled.
"That's a compliment," you shot back. "Go on, I want the lot."
Gunther agreed, standing, and approaching the safe. He shoved Wilmer out of the way, sweeping his arm into the safe and starting to load up the duffel. "You can't do this! If you take it all, what are we supposed to do!? How is my family supposed to survive when leeches like you suck us dry!?" Wilmer barked, making the amusement drop from your face.
"Watch your tone."
"No! No, I will not! You think you're high and mighty because of your father, but you're just a spoilt little girl! You all break into my house, extort me - "
"Can you truly extort a criminal? For the money they owe other criminals?" Brian / Lemon wondered out loud as he meandered the living room, making you shrug.
"He likes playing victim," you mused, but in the time you looked over your shoulder, Wilmer charged. You gasped when his shoulder bullied into your gut, tackling you past Tangerine and into the coffee table, shattering it.
"GO! RUN!" He shouted at his family, Tangerine lunging instantly to wrangle him off of you; the breath knocked from your lungs.
"Got some fuckin' nerve, don't yah!? Touchin' my girl!?" He raged, throwing the man to the floor again. "Nobody fuckin' moves!" Aaron growled, gun pointed at Wilmer.
"Not like they can, two blown out knees," Brian grunted as he helped pick you up from the wreck.
"Yeh all right, Bunny?"
"All right, love, yeah," you answered and adjusted your dress, picking up your weapon as Tan began wailing his balled-up fist into Wilmer's face at a jackhammering pace. It was wildly attractive, watching the man you were in-love with beat the shit out of someone who offered you threat and harm. Then something caught your eye, gasping, "Oh, you rat bastard! You broke my fucking nail!"
You yanked Tan back; aiming at Wilmer, pulling the trigger to let a close-range bullet explode the man's head; leaking brain matter on the Persian carpet. You turned to Mrs. DeLano and Eddie, cocking your head as they begged and pleaded for their lives, but you weren't listening anymore. "Got it all, boss," Gunther informed, dropping the stuffed duffel. "What we doin' with them?"
"Exactly what my father would do," you decided. "No witnesses."
"PLEASE! NO, GOD! NO, DON'T, PLEASE! WE WON'T SAY ANYTHING, I SWEAR! I SWEAR! PLEASE! MERCY! MERCY MERCY!"
Three more gunshots sounded, Tangerine's gun smoking before being tucked back into his shoulder holster under his jacket. "Well," he fluffed his lapels again, sniffling harshly, "shall we be on our way, Bunny? We good here?"
"Oh, might as well - got what we needed," you agreed, grimacing when blood bloomed towards your expensive shoes. "Ugh, what a mess. I'll make a call, have this cleaned up, pose it as a murder-suicide," you side-stepped the puddle. "Gunther, Casey, take what you want from this place, get the cash back to the stash house. I'm gonna grab a drink with the lads," you smirked, looping your arm with Aaron's.
Lemon / Brian packed up their share of the money, following behind as Tangerine / Aaron lead you from the house; placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting the end, inhaling, tossing his free arm around your neck. The night was dark and brisk, refreshing on your clammy skin as you stabilized your breathing; always a little shaken after taking life.
Call it morality.
Once in their tinted Mercedes, Brian got in the backseat, Tan rolled his window down to smoke, and you pulled out your ringing cell phone to answer, "Hi, Daddy."
He breathed in relief, "Good, you answered. Means nothing bad happened."
"That's not entirely true," you admitted. "We're leaving now."
"What happened?"
You winced, brushes already forming, "DeLano got bold, he attacked. So we left no witnesses."
"Good girl," he praised. "You feel all right?"
"Yeah, I'm good. I'm actually going to drinks with some, uh, friends," you glanced at Tangerine - seeing his lips pulled in a smirk as he started the car and pulled off down the street. "Turns out, DeLano didn't just owe us, but some coke dealer, too. Right, love?" You checked.
"Right," Aaron confirmed, reaching over to plant his hand on your thigh and give a soft squeeze.
"Right, yeah, so, he tried lying 'bout money, I shot his son's kneecaps - "
"That's my girl!"
" - and cleared the safe out. That's when DeLano attacked me - "
"WHAT!?"
"Daddy," you reprimanded softly. "I'm okay. Actually, the hired contractors on the job saved my arse - they showed up after we did with the same agenda. Gunther and Casey are gonna take the cash to a stash house, I gotta call Mr. Brooks about cleaning up."
"Did you say contractors?"
"Yeah, uh, you know, from The Agency?"
"You mean hitmen?"
"Yeah, guess you could say that. Think they're more like contract killers? Verbiage is so fickle."
"Who? Who exactly was there?"
"The Twins, Daddy. Don't worry, they're absolutely charming, only took their payment. We're gonna go for drinks, yeah?"
"Huh," he grunted, "must've been some bigwig t'send them two. Or a considerable debt." You were about to reply when he gasped in realization, "Wait, no. No, no, hang on a tick, don't bloody tell me."
"What?"
"This the lad you've got a thing for, innit? The one that sends yah flowers every other week?"
"Daddy."
"Don't tell me it's that Tangerine fucker, princess, please!"
"Oh, no, look at that, we're heading into a tunnel! I'm gonna lose the call; talk tomorrow, be safe, good luck in Prague, okay, muah! Muah! Muah! Love you! Bye, bye, bye!" You rambled quickly, blowing air kisses, then hanging up swiftly.
"The hell was that about?" Aaron chuckled. "He mad we were there?"
"Not entirely."
"Was he mad you're gettin' drinks with us?" Brian laughed from the back.
"That's a little more accurate. Well," you winced, "he was a bit testy that I'm goin' with Aaron..."
"I haven't done a damn thing to him," he grumbled.
"You do have a bit of a reputation, bruv."
You smiled sweetly, gripping Aaron's hand on your thigh, "He's my father, 'course he's gonna worry."
"'Bout time he found out, keeping you two a secret was mad frustrating, yeah? You two are disgustingly in-love."
Tangerine squeezed your thigh again, sending you a bright grin, "That we are."
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requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
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weebsinstash · 3 months
Note
Hi I’ve been watching Hazbin Hotel and I found your blog which is amazing by the way , and I was wondering what are your thoughts on yandere Alastor ?
Thanks babe! ^^ so i was discussing this with someone recently and, to avoid doing that thing where I have too any concepts on the same post, I'm going to stick with a specific idea I've had of him recently which I will call "canon accurate yandere Alastor"
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imma be honest and say this version would fucking suck depending on your preferences because he
-doesn't love you romantically and doesn't let YOU date
-doesn't wanna fuck you either AND DOESN'T LET YOU FUCK ANYONE ELSE EITHER
-probably does not consider you an equal by any means, like he considers you a good friend and you're charming and lovely and whatever, but he sees you like.... you'd be puking into a trashcan and he's the one holding your hair back, "now see my dear, this is why you shouldn't go out drinking without a proper escort~" like there's a vague layer of condescension and there's a huge massive power balance and experience balance between you two
Like. He's. He's kind of condescendingly cunty to you, he's vaguely looking at you with the energy of "MacKenzie oh my gosh MacKenzie you're so drunk, you're wasted, oh my god let me drive you home, no girl I'm taking your keys, you're too--" like do you get what I mean? He's a traditional gentleman and he comes along and uh, he thinks he sees this raw potential and charm inside of you that he thinks is being wasted by your modern lifestyle which can literally include
- your diet
-your tech use or what you use from day to day
- how you dress
-how you TALK
-how you spend your time
-who you hang out with
Just picture he meets you, you catch his eye, maybe you're at the hotel, and he's entertained by your sarcastic witty replies to his antics that maybe even get a chuckle out of him. You're a spitfire and he likes that!
.... and then the next time he sees you you're like vaping weed from a pen, looking at him with half lidded eyes, playing a game on your phone, too scattered to fully hold a conversation with him, to focus, to be as entertaining to him as before, and he's grinding the teeth in his smile, "oh no, this won't do at all", especially when he sees negative affects such maybe you're watching things he doesn't approve of or you're being harassed idk
I feel like since Alastor canonically drinks and is quite a heavyweight apparently, he wouldn't mind his darling drinking, but he would definitely control how much after a while. If you get too wasted in front of him too many times, he'll completely cut you off. Folks are you aware that getting too drunk can cause an alcohol induced panic attack that can literally take away your ability to move your hands and arms and make your mouth numb. I found this out recently :) whoops. And I feel like Alastor sees that shit and you'd have to EARN HIS TRUST for him to let you drink again and uh, I don't think that's possible
You're kind of like a bestie but you're also like a toy he's playing with and he doesn't like to share. He'll drag you away from doing other things with other people, especially if he doesn't approve of what you're doing and or with whom. He basically views you dating other people as lowering yourself to people who are beneath you and would only want you to give yourself to someone who deserves you, and he doesn't think ANYONE deserves you except him, and he DOESNT LIKE YOU THAT WAY so the man is just like FORCING CELIBACY ON YOU. Like have you ever seen videos of people taking their domesticated lovely groomed pets outdoors and like a stray or even wild animal version of it comes along to. Hump. And the owner is freaking out, "get the fuck AWAY I don't know where you've been" or at least Should? THAT'S Alastor watching 'other people trying to predate upon you' aka YOU trying to get laid or date
You'll be cooking something and he'll come up and try some without asking, "Hah! This is terrible!" and either watch you so he can tell you what he thinks you did wrong once the dish is finished or he takes over and asserts that he wants to show you to do it "the proper way!" and if you're female he potentially inserts a comment about how as a lovely lady you should know your way around a kitchen (in like a positive "I'll show you so you can know for yourself" way but like the underlying misogyny is there lol)
He'll take you out drinking and dancing but don't you dare let him catch you throwing it back or being mildly sexual, or he'll immediately tell you you've had too much to drink and take you home and you two spend the rest of the night like drinking tea listening to the radio, reading books, or watching old timey TV.
Lastly... I can absolutely see Alastor making some kind of deal with his darling for their soul. He CAN do that (and I think technically anyone in Hell can deal with souls, it's apparently part of the becoming an Overlord process). But I can just see him taking his darling's soul in exchange for anything, it might be really small, it might be really important, but he sees it as safeguarding your beautiful lovely little soul from anyone else who might take it. It truly is like THE HIGHEST FORM OF OWNING YOU, CONTROLLING YOU. It's all according to whatever is in the deal, but I'm sure there's other basic caveats you get... like him being able to summon you at will if you agree to it so he's randomly yanking you away from other people or tracking you when he doesn't know when you are.... or restraining you so you stop running away from him and running out on the town to act so... vulgar
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inkdrinkerworld · 1 month
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no cause dick getting protective when they're at a gala and some old rich guy starts implying that y/n doesn't belong there cause they don't come from wealth
you're the best writer on this app btw!!!
That’s so sweet! I hope you enjoy this
“Why are they here?” You hear it once when you walk in and then again when Dick comes up behind you and drops a kiss to your cheek.
“They just don’t fit.”
Dick doesn’t hear until he’s dishing out your dinner, your plate being shared for both your tastes.
“You could do better, Grayson.” First he thinks it’s about his choice of food- which he doesn’t care about but then he follows the man’s gaze and frowns.
His eyes narrow, taking in the heavy set man beside him.
“Excuse me?”
He’s really trying not to flip out. He doesn’t want to make a scene at Bruce’s fancy gala but he will, he knows he will, if this man says anything out of place.
“Your date. You could’ve gotten anyone, anyone who fit in with the rest of us.” The way he says ‘us’ really grates on his nerves. As if money would matter to Dick, as if it would make a difference to your personality.
“You’re wrong. Money doesn’t always equate to value you know. Maybe you should worry more about your house than what goes on in my life.”
Dick walks off without another word and finds you sitting at your table with only Damien as company- he isn’t as bad as Dick tries making him look.
“Hey baby,” you smile softly, eyes pleading with Damien who doesn’t look the least bit remorseful as he tattles to Dick.
“Some of these old guys are real pieces of work. They don’t even realise that they’re being robbed right under their noses but they think they have the right to comment on dating preferences.”
Dick’s eyes are ablaze. “They said something to you?” You shrug.
“It’s not a big deal, bigots are bigots no matter where you go.”
Dick and Damien find it very big deals but you distract Dick, Damien’s called off by Bruce who gives you a nod that makes you smile.
“Baby, it’s fine. It’s what they’re like and they’re old; they hardly change their mind. Not until they’re on their deathbeds anyway.”
Dick sighs and you decide to pull out the big guns. You walk over to his chair and sit across his lap, your nails burying in his hair as your lips press to his ear.
“Let it go Grayson, it doesn’t bother me and it shouldn’t bother you.”
“Boils my fucking blood that they think they can just say those things no problem.” You hum, kissing his jaw.
“Don’t do anything crazy, Richard.”
He only groans, holding on to your hip as his hand reaches for something off the plate.
“No promises. I love you, just the way you are.”
You smile, eating straight from his hands. “I love you just the way you are, too. Which is why I know you and Damien are going to retaliate, but at least make it untraceable.”
Dick chuckles, “I know my way around tech, pretty girl. It’s one hundred percent untraceable.”
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