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theostrophywife · 7 months

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kiss with a fist | chapter one.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: kiss with a fist - florence and the machine.

author's note: i'm so excited to share this series with everyone. this was literally meant to be a one shot fic but i have no self control therefore it spiraled into a whole series. without further ado, please enjoy the first chapter and let me know what you think 🤎

Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure.

Intelligence, knowledge, wisdom. These were the traits that Ravenclaws valued most, but if the founder of your house could see you now, Rowena Ravenclaw would probably roll over in her grave.

Because there was nothing smart about falling in love with Theodore Nott.

In fact, it might be the most idiotic thing you’ve ever done in your entire life.

So why did it feel so bloody exhilarating?

To understand your descent into madness, it was prudent to trace the events back to point zero.

It was a rainy September afternoon, unusually dreary even for the Scottish Highlands. The first week of your return to Hogwarts had been chaotic to say the least. Between performing your prefect duties by showing the first years around the castle and dealing with the clueless third year that accidentally set off Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs in the Great Hall, you were absolutely knackered by the time Friday rolled around.

Unfortunately, you had no time to rest. Even though the term just started, you were already spending much of your nights studying until your eyes felt like they were going to fall out of your skull. Tonight, you were in the potions laboratory tackling a particularly stubborn advanced draught. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t figure it out.

You dropped a sprig of wormwood into the cauldron and stirred counterclockwise then clockwise, just like the recipe instructed. The concoction bubbled to the surface. Holding your breath, you peered into the mixture with hope that this try would finally turn out successful. The potion turned a vibrant magenta color before exploding all over the front of your uniform.

Sadly, this was the closest you’d come to brewing the Angel’s Trumpet Draught. You sighed, wiping down your tie with a washcloth. It did nothing except make the mess worse. What you needed was a good old fashioned soak.

Luckily, you had access to the prefect’s bathroom on the fifth floor. During this time of night, it would be gloriously empty. Giving you the perfect opportunity to wallow in bubbles and self pity.

The trek from the dungeons to the fifth floor was fortunately uneventful. The hallways were dark and quiet, allowing you to slink off to the bathroom in peace. With a whisper of pine fresh, the pearly gates opened.

You turned on the faucets, setting the temperature just below boiling and dispensing herbs and fragrances into the tub. When you were finally satisfied, you quickly discarded your soiled clothes and eagerly stepped into the warm bath. The scent of rosewater and pink himalayan salt instantly relaxed you.

You sighed deeply, leaning against the marble tile and closing your eyes. This was definitely not the way you thought seventh year would go. Your last year at Hogwarts was supposed to be the highlight of your academic career. While your housemates fretted and fussed over quidditch games and blood moon balls, you refused to take your eyes off the prize.

Ever the diligent student, you had no interest in extracurriculars unless it brought you closer to your dream of becoming an accomplished potions master, which would hopefully catch the eye of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. Joining the prestigious group was a dream that you had been working towards since first year. Blood, sweat, and tears had gone towards achieving this goal, especially during your most recent break.

You spent the entire holiday interning at the Brewery, attending lectures at the Magical Division of the University of Oxford, and you had not only completed the assigned reading for your Advanced Potions class, but Professor Slughorn’s personal recommendations as well. All of that hard work should have placed you ahead of the curve, but your class rank remained the same as always.

Second.

Not first.

Never first.

No, that spot belonged to that rich infuriating smartass pureblooded motherfu—

“Theodore Nott,” you said, lacing your voice with as much venom as you could muster.

Between the pale moonstone pillars stood the source of your academic anguish. Theodore was dripping sweat, his green and silver quidditch jersey covered in mud and grime. The prefect badge pinned to his robe was barely visible, more brown than silver. His curly brown hair fell erratically across his cheekbones as he brushed a stray strand away to squint in the faint light.

The side of his mouth quirked up into a smirk when he recognized you. “You know, most people just call me Theo.” His gaze lingered on your form, which was barely covered by pink suds. “Especially those who know me rather intimately.”

You flushed in response. Amusement danced in his watercolor eyes, which seemed brighter now thanks to his sun kissed complexion. Knowing Nott, he probably spent his summer laying out in the Italian sun while attractive witches fed him grapes by hand. You didn’t get a tan like that from holing up in the English countryside with nothing but a boiling cauldron and a dusty textbook for company. He didn’t even have the audacity to pretend like he was worried about his class ranking. The bastard.

“Every rule has its exception, Theodore,” you gritted out. “Now get the fuck out.”

He cocked his head, sending a mass of wavy brown locks to spill to one side. “You’re right. Most people don’t usually say my name like it’s an unforgivable, but I guess you’re special in that way, diavolina mia.”

Little devil, Nott's idea of a fond nickname, irritated you to no end. Your annoyance only made him use it more. Gods, what a wanker.

“Are you deaf or just thick? This bathroom is occupied,” you huffed, sinking lower into the bubbles. “Leave before I scream bloody murder.”

Theo smirked. “Oh, I guarantee you’ll be screaming.” He kicked his shoes off, leaving them in a messy pile beside your own neatly arranged boots. “Though the only thing I’ll be murdering is that pu—”

The glare you sent his way would have sent lesser men running for the Forbidden Forest. “I’m serious, Nott. I’ve had a terrible fucking day and I am not giving up the bath.”

“Neither am I,” he countered. “Practice was brutal. I ate shit on the pitch and all I want to do is to reap my prefect benefits via bubble bath. I’m afraid you’re just going to have to learn how to share, sweetheart.”

You watched in stunned silence as he peeled off his jersey. The moonlight streamed through the glass stained windows, painting him in a surreal sort of light. There was no ounce of shame to be found in Theodore Nott as he stripped off his trousers and stood stark naked in the middle of the bathroom.

Look away, you thought. Look the fuck away now.

But like a moth to a flame, you found yourself horribly drawn to the cocky, arrogant, son of a bludger. His tall frame cut an imposing figure in the dark as slivers of moonlight danced across his ridiculously toned chest and well-defined abs. He was neither brawny nor scrawny, but somewhere in the middle, which unfortunately happened to be your sweet spot.

To make matters worse, the smug prick seemed perfectly aware of your ogling. You could’ve sworn Theo flexed as he stalked towards you. Unlike most boys his age, he wasn’t awkward or bumbling. Theo was confident in his body. Too confident.

You sighed. “Can you at least attempt to be decent?”

“Why? It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.”

As if you needed a reminder of this ongoing tryst between you. Theo waded to your side, leaning his head back as the warm water sloshed around him. His eyes fluttered close, those thick lashes of his kissing the top of his cheekbones. Water trickled down his collarbone and you had to fight the urge to lean over and lick it off.

“I told you, last time was—“

“The last time,” Theo finished. “I’m perfectly aware, principessa. You say it every time.”

“I mean it this time.”

He cocked his head, flashing those hypnotizing eyes at you. “Oh?” Theo drawled slowly, reaching out to brush a wayward lock of hair that had escaped from your braid. “Did my poor little Ravenclaw finally find the courage to say no to the big bad Slytherin?”

Your breath hitched as he pressed his lips against your throat. “Fuck,” you whispered.

“Go on then, love,” Theo hummed against your skin. He kissed the sensitive spot beneath your earlobe, making you involuntarily arch into him. Slender fingers wrapped around the base of your throat, holding you in place. “Tell me what you want, diavolina.”

You sighed in defeat. “Stop being an asshole and kiss me, Nott.”

Theo grabbed the back of your head and crashed his lips against yours like a man starved. After months of going without, you came to the horrid realization that you craved this as much as he did. You crawled into his lap, straddling him as he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

I am a stupid girl, you thought. A stupid, horny girl who had no business snogging Theodore Nott.

One, you were bitter rivals. Two, Theo awakened a dangerous side of you that defied all logic. This whole fucked up situation started because of your lapse of judgment last winter. As always, Theo had said or done something to annoy you during class and in return you hexed his drink to taste like dragon dung. He retched for a week straight. Somehow Snape found out that you were to blame and placed both of you in detention.

One thing led to another in the potions classroom and you ended up with your skirt around your waist and Theo’s head between your legs. You quickly resolved that the only way to shut him up was to keep him occupied and occupied he was. Ever since then, the two of you had been at it like rabbits.

You thought that you would leave all of it behind in sixth year, but barely a week into this term and you were already repeating the pattern.

“I’ve been thinking about this all summer,” Theo groaned into your mouth.

“That’s cute, Nott,” you responded sarcastically. “Miss me over the holidays, did you?”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking about this too. You’ve been testier than a Hungarian Horntail since the minute you got off the platform. I could tell that you haven’t been properly fucked since our little impromptu goodbye in the broom closet last spring.”

“You’re absolutely repulsing.”

He smirked. “Then why are you pulling me closer?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up and fuck me before I change my mind.”

“You could say please.”

“I could,” you said with a shrug before gripping his cock and lining him up at your entrance. Theo groaned as you sank down into him with a satisfied little smirk. “But I won’t.”

The moan that came out of his mouth barely sounded human. “Fuck,” he said, burying his head in the crook of your neck. “How do you always feel so fucking good?”

You knew what he meant. As much as you hated to admit it, Theo was right. You hadn’t gotten properly laid since your last tryst. There had been other boys this summer, but none of them made you feel like this. Because sex with Theo wasn’t just sex. It was warfare. You fucked like you both had something to prove.

Even now, as you grinded your hips against him, Theo thrusted upwards with equal force like you were competing for the bloody house cup. You ran your fingers through his hair, frowning a little.

“What?” Theo asked.

“Did you cut your hair?”

He grinned as he trailed kisses along your jaw. “You don’t like it?”

“Less to hold onto.”

“Don’t worry dolcezza,” Theo chuckled darkly. He squeezed your thighs and pressed you against him roughly. “I’ll make sure to hold on tight for the both of us.”

You hummed in agreement before sinking down again, setting a steady rhythm as you rode him with reckless abandon. For someone who valued logic, every ounce of common sense you possessed went out the window when it came to this infuriating boy.

Maybe you were a masochist. But as Theo thrust sharply into you, the stupid little voice in your head said that you didn’t really mind the pain.

You moaned as Theo tilted your chin, capturing your lips with his. It was a clash of tongue and teeth as you fought for dominance, putting your bodies to the test. He knew exactly what buttons to press, which sensitive spots to hit, how to challenge you physically and mentally.

“Gods, right there.” You whimpered, digging your fingernails into his back. Theo’s hypnotizing eyes snapped to yours, piercing through every layer until you felt even more bare than you already were. “Don’t fucking stop, please.”

He smirked. “So you do have bedside manner after all.”

“Not for you,” you said as you grinded down hard, making Theo bite into your shoulder.

“Salazar fucking save me,” he grunted.

“Your founder can’t save you now, Nott.”

“Cruel, ruthless woman.” Theo looked up at you like he was praying to the stars. His movements stilled as your gazes collided. “Tell me you missed this. Tell me that no one else makes you feel like this.”

You whined at the loss of friction. “You’ve picked a shit time to get all sentimental on me, Nott.”

“It’s not sentiment, it’s the truth,” Theo declared, thrusting lazily. “And I want to hear you say it.”

“Why?”

“Call it curiosity,” he said casually. “I want to know if I measure up to the boys back in Oxford.”

Not even close, you thought. But you were not about to admit that out loud.

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”

Theo chuckled before sinking his teeth into your neck. “But I’m not a cat, little bird. I’m a snake and I’m coiled around you ready to strike if you say the word.”

You shivered slightly. This constant back and forth, all the bickering and banter, was just you and Theo’s sick and twisted version of foreplay. Gods, you fucking missed it.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “Theodore Nott, you are an infuriating little shit but you fuck like an absolute demon. I missed sneaking around with you in the broom closet, the charms classroom, the astronomy tower, and wherever else we managed to defile in this bloody castle. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

The shiteating grin on his face almost made you want to take it all back, but then he flipped you over, laying you down on the cold marble tile and staring at you with so much lust in his eyes that you felt the depths of his desire in your core. He crawled over you, water trickling down his tanned skin.

“Close enough,” he remarked before hiking your leg over his shoulder and burying himself so deep that you clawed the edge of the tub to keep yourself from slipping.

The rest of it was a blur of skin on skin as Theo unleashed himself on you. His mouth, his fingers, his cock were all just tools of seduction that he wielded with lethal precision.

The pleasure washed over you in waves, crashing again and again as he made you cum not once, not twice, but a total of three times. By the time he reached his peak, you were so exhausted that the two of you collapsed in the dark.

You laid side by side, staring up at the domed glass ceiling in stunned silence. After a moment, Theo turned over to face you.

“So?”

“So what?”

“Did I manage to knock that stick out of your arse?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing off the tile. “And that’s my cue to leave.”

“I’m kidding. I’m good, but I’m not that good,” Theo teased, following closely behind as you put your clothes back on. He eyed the bright magenta stain on the front of your uniform. “What happened there? Did you murder some poor unsuspecting pygmy puff?”

“No, but I did a number on the potions lab,” you lamented with a sigh. “That stupid Angel’s Trumpet Draught is bloody impossible to brew.”

“That old thing?” Theo asked, pulling out a fresh set of clothes from his quidditch bag. “I finished it ages ago.”

You gaped, nearly tumbling over your own skirt. “How? I followed the recipe word for word and this disastrous stain was all I managed to achieve.”

“Sometimes you have to go off the book,” he replied. “Experiment a little.”

“No thanks, I’d rather keep all my limbs intact.”

“I think you’re doing a rather splendid job of endangering yourself all on your own,” Theo said sarcastically. He cocked his head as you slipped on your boots. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll show you how to brew the draught in exchange for a favor.”

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “What kind of favor?”

“That’s for me to decide and for you to accept.”

“I’d rather not give an egomaniac a nuclear advantage.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Do you want my help or not, diavolina?”

“Fine,” you said with a sigh. “But only because I’m desperate.”

“Words every bloke is dying to hear.”

Without a word, he tossed a mass of balled up fabric in your direction. “What’s this?”

“A jumper, an article of clothing generally worn to retain warmth in colder climates,” Theo deadpanned.

“I know what a jumper is, you tosser. Why are you giving it to me?”

“Because, you’ll get a cold walking around like that,” Theo explained with a longsuffering sigh as though you were a clueless first year. The corners of his mouth quirked up. “Plus, I can see your nipples through your blouse and as much as I enjoy the view, I doubt that flashing Filch is at the top of your bucket list.”

“You truly are appalling,” you replied, shrugging the slightly faded jumper on. The thing was so worn that you couldn’t even make out the inscription on the front. The fabric swallowed you whole, skimming the top of your thighs. It also smelled like sea salt and smoke and boy. One boy in particular.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He grinned, showing off those stupid little dimples of his. “Meet me in the potions lab tomorrow. Eight o’clock sharp, just like old times. And bring a muffin.”

“For the draught?’

“No, for me.” Theo said, holding the door open. “I’ll need motivation if I’m spending my Saturday morning with you.”

You slipped into the hallway and flipped him the bird. His laughter followed you in the dark like an annoying shadow.

“See you tomorrow, my little pygmy puff!”

Taglist: @annaisabookworm@marina468@yaraasthings @the0doreslover@bubybubsters@moony-artemis @natasha887@lucyysthings@criesinlies @bunnymallowo@niktwazny303@letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl@wordsarelife@clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar @mishtay @cherry-hoe @littlebookbengal @maybefoxysouls @nomup @aliensknowmyillusions

#your honor i love him and his filthy mouth #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott smut #theo nott x you #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x you #theo nott fluff #theo nott fic #theodore nott fic #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n

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helluvapoison · 3 months

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You were a rare soul— and that means something down here. You didn’t care about holding the title Overlord, nor the power that came with it. You had exactly zero souls under your belt, yet people… respected you. Not feared, respected. A peculiar word to hear in Hell.

Your name was uttered quieter than a whisper, like saying it an octave too loud would summon you.

The Rat King.

Soon you would meet…

˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer Morningstar ⁎⁺˳✧༚

warnings: gn reader, language, angst, canon divergence

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• He thought it was very brave (re: idiotic) to carry the title king in his domain

• Lucifer came to you out of boredom, absurdity, and— no shit— the slightest bit of self indulgence! He was supposed to see this so called second king and rip them a new asshole. Except you weren’t a king— not even close

• He scoured you toes to head, seemingly unimpressed. Not rat-like, not king-like. Lucifer knew himself well enough to know he should have been bored by now. His expectations plummeted, nothing was going according to plan. And yet.. he found himself more curious than before

“You’re this ‘Rat King’ I hear so much about?”

“I guess so” You shrugged, “But I didn’t pick that name for myself.”

• You properly introduced yourself to the one and only king. Your real name tasted interesting on his tongue. Lucifer tested it thrice as he shook your hand, relooking you over like he missed something

• Apparently they called you The Rat King because you were in the secret trading business. Give one, get one. Simple as that. You explained the rules to him over a cup of tea that he asked for. It wasn’t his first or second choice of blend but he drank it to be polite. No other motive. Definitely not because there was a question on the tip of his split tongue

• Lucifer wasn’t the most observant of people. He couldn’t tell what people were thinking, he wasn’t fluent in body language. So when he caught your eyes bouncing between his tight grip on the chipped cup you offered him, to his jittery knee sticking out from where he sat. His body and his head were, for one, in agreeance; leave, they told him. He didn’t like to be sized up and that was always his go to answer for why someone was watching him so intently. But with his chest facing you, and his heart in control, he stayed put

• “Lilith.” He choked out, “I want any knowledge you have on her.”

Saying her name out loud hurt more than he thought it would. It was acid in his belly, smoke in his lungs, and fire on his tongue.

Your smile faded.

“What?” He scoffed, “Lemme guess, you want something, right? A deal? I have to make a deal to find my own wife? Let’s get this over with then! I’m the fucking King of Hell, whatever you want is—“

Your hand shot out so suddenly that Lucifer was almost disappointed. He was expecting this. Right? This is what Sinners did, it’s why they were here. Why was he hoping you’d be different? And, more importantly, when did hope creep into his system again? He hadn’t been on good terms with the feeling in decades.

• However, Lucifer’s disappointment was killed before it could spread. Gently, so gently he could cry, you took his hand and pushed it, palm down, onto the table. Your eyes never left his. There was something about them that captivated him. He loathed it. It made him feel small. Not the kind of small that equaled insignificant, either.

No, it was worse.

Vulnerable.

“I don’t do deals,” You said quickly and it had Lucifer wondering if those eyes of yours saw how his mind was spiraling.

Stealing his hand back, ignoring how he immediately missed the contact, he wiped it on his pants.

A suspicious glare took over his face, “You—?What? You don’t do deals? What does that even mean!?”

“I just… trade secrets,” You sounded so defeated, “I don’t need deals for that. But I don’t have any secrets about the queen. I’m sorry.”

• Lucifer expected pity to rear its ugly head from you any moment now. His pride couldn’t take that hit, not today. What was it about you that made him so fucking transparent?

• The uncomfortable silence began creeping into the insufferably small shop of yours. It was fucking suffocating.

“I wish I could help you, I really do.” You said softly.

He really wished you would stop doing that. Your softness felt like a dagger to the heart. Reminding him it existed was agony he thought he’d never feel again.

• “Not one?” Lucifer asked bitterly.

Not a single one of these undeserving demons and sinners that Lilith loved so much spoke about her? Not a whisper or a rumor? They just forgot about her? It’s only been 4 years!

“I’m sorry, your majesty, if I hear something, I can—“

“No… No, it’s fine.” Lucifer cut you off, holding up his hand. His wedding ring blinded him with a sparkling gleam. He sighed, “I think we’re done here.”

• You stepped behind him cautiously, walking him to the door.

“You’re welcome to come back?”

He scoffed out a laugh, grinning at you from over his shoulder, “You’re not getting any of my secrets.”

A smile of your own began to spread.

“I also dabble in conversation.”

(part one? or move on to the next character? i dunno if i feel like continuing but want this to be as interactive as possible so tell me what you would like to see!)

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar headcanon #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar

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haute-pockette · 3 months

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The Doctor being disabled.

Every incarnation sitting somewhere on the autism spectrum. Their stims and behaviors vary between incarnations.

First doctor with alexithymia. On Gallifrey it was fine, ignored. A "superior race" that prided itself in observation without interference doesn't put too much stalk in compassion. But meeting humans up close with Barbara and Ian started him down a path of learning to put words to his own feelings as well as others.

As his body aged he also developed arthritis. The cane was for mobility as much as it was for style. He learned the hard way that aspirin is not Gallifreyan friendly (he survived the small dose, but it scared the hell out of Susan).

Two with lots of physical stims. All his gestures and wringing his hands, grabbing onto companions.

Dyspraxic Two. Chicken scratch handwriting, stumbling over his words and his feet. He really leans into tactile sensations whether it's the texture of his clothes or holding onto a companion, it was always grounding for him.

Third tended to shut down more than his first two since the constant stress and frustration of exile had him already wound pretty tight. He'll lock himself in the lab and just put himself on autopilot until he recharges enough to deal with whatever shenanigans are happening.

Three has tinnitus that of various sounds including almost like the tardis materialization sound. He often has to look up to check if the Master is showing up to bother him or not.

Four has ADHD alongside with autism. He struggles with constantly running from responsibility and wanting to have some sense of control of situations.

It's one of those snowballs of procrastination causing anxiety which causes him to procrastinate further. Unless it's urgently life threatening, his stress response is freeze.

Five masks and suppresses his emotions in an attempt to blend with neurotypicals more since he's self-conscious of his previous "eccentricity" as Four. It causes a lot of strain between him and Tegan after Earthshock.

Peripheral neuropathy causing muscle weakness in his legs cause of the difficult regeneration. Look how much he falls over and leans on the tardis console, he can't stand straight for long periods of time without aids. Usually has braces, but will use a cane around the tardis (would use the wheelchair but it's dead in the Castrovalva river).

Six gets overstimulated easier than some, especially by noises and textures. Usually that with things not going accordingly tends to set off meltdowns. Ever since he hurt Peri he turns his energy on himself instead.

Bipolar Six. He tends to handle mania better than depression, at least when he has too much energy he knows he can spend it and try to get it out. He'll usually park the tardis somewhere his companion can enjoy and shut himself away in the cloister room or zero room when at the worst of his lows.

Also type 1 diabetic six, regenerating from poison fucked with his metabolism. He is careful to take care of his blood sugar, but he's terrible at remembering to stay hydrated. That's why Mel is always shoving carrot juice at him.

Seven has ADD (yes I know it's technically "ADHD of the predominantly inattentive type" but ADD is easier). ADD as in he's always in his own head, always five points ahead of the conversation. His train of thought is incomprehensible to most, but there is a string of logic to it.

Dyspraxic Seven with an abnormal gait and stance. Bad posture makes him look shorter than he is. Only he can read his own handwriting, which he insists is not as bad as it is.

#I'll do Eight and the rest in another post #This one is getting long #Doctor Who #Headcanons #Classic Who #First Doctor #Second Doctor #Third Doctor #Fourth Doctor #Fifth Doctor #Sixth Doctor #Seventh Doctor

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alexias-putellas · 1 month

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the grudge (4) // barça femení x reader

barça femení x reader

part one part two part three

happier times are coming i promise

it was the first day of training since arriving back in barcelona and much to everyone’s surprise, you were willing to tag along with mapi and ingrid. you even agreed to go out to breakfast with them beforehand.

you’d never say it out loud but it was because you were scared to be on your own. with your thoughts and that stupid bright red plaster cast. in hindsight it was a dumb idea to let the biggest gooner on earth pick the colour.

ingrid watched with a frown as you pushed your food around your plate, nibbling at something every now and again. mapi was chattering away about a new tattoo she was wanting, completely unaware that neither of you were listening.

you felt something nudge your foot and looked up to meet ingrid’s curious eyes, you gave her a small smile and managed to eat a few spoonfuls of food. just enough to keep her worries at bay but not enough that your stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“you okay?” ingrid asked softly, mapi turning to look at you too.

you nodded in response, watching as the couple deflated. you hadn’t said a word since the match in london and they’d been trying everything in an attempt to get you to speak but to no avail. yes or no questions got answered, open ended questions were left hanging in the air.

the rest of breakfast was fairly quiet and if you weren’t still wallowing in self-pity, you probably would’ve felt bad for pulling the mood down.

mapi and ingrid helped you into the car, the two of them letting you have control of the music. when you quietly started to hum along, mapi jolted in her seat and ingrid was quick to nudge the spaniard, giving her a look whilst shaking her head.

arriving at training wasn’t nearly as bad as you were expecting. you felt a little sad but had already decided that maybe a break from football would be good for you, considering you had been playing non-stop for months and months.

you slowly followed behind mapi and ingrid, keeping your eyes trained on your feet and crutches, still not confident using them just yet. the norwegian turned slightly to make sure you were alright and chuckled softly when she spotted you, tongue poking out from your lips as you concentrated.

“you okay?” ingrid asked and you looked up, cheeks flushing. mapi turned too and your blush deepened.

you nodded, giving them both a small smile. sometimes you really didn’t like how well ingrid actually knew you because whilst mapi seemed content with your non-verbal answer, you caught the way ingrid’s eyebrows furrowed slightly.

you knew that she wouldn’t pull you up on whatever she was thinking, there was no point really. you’d hardly spoken since the hospital in london. and on the rare occasions you had spoken, you were uncharacteristically awful to any and everyone. well, almost everyone.

the only people you’d let in since then were mapi, ingrid, and leah. the former choosing to facetime you every night since the incident, letting you decide when to hang up, even if it meant you two sat in silence for hours.

mapi and ingrid had insisted that your stay in their place became permanent and you, once again, had zero objections, having already grown extremely comfortable living with them.

so when you inevitably ended up in the lockeroom, you folded in on yourself, huddling next to mapi. the sympathetic looks and quiet conversations made you feel sick and regret agreeing to watch the girls train.

you and mapi were the last ones on the grass and when you got comfortable on the floor of the sidelines, she dropped a bag in front of you. you hadn’t seen her carrying it so of course you were confused. but she’d joined the session before you could find your voice and ask about it.

opening the bag, you felt your stomach flip as you realised that the spaniard seemed to know you just as well as ingrid. she’d filled it with your favourite drinks and snacks, along with a sketchbook and all kinds of pencils.

with a small satisfied smile, you took out the supplies and let yourself escape the real world.

so when mapi collapsed into a heap next to you ten minutes later, you unconsciously handed her a bottle without sparing her a glance.

“gracias,” mapi said and you hummed absentmindedly. “what are you drawing?”

you looked up then, shifting your legs to hide your sketchbook from her view. you glanced over to see alexia already looking over at the two of you, and you just assumed that she was the one who had sent mapi over to check on you.

“let me see,” mapi moved closer and your hand instantly shot out, keeping her at a safe distance. “hey!”

she swatted at you but you held your own, pushing her away whenever she tried to peek. for a moment, she hesitated, thinking that you were starting to get agitated. but she saw that you were actually fighting back a smile.

“maría!” you laughed as she ripped the pencil from your hand. she looked at you in shock before recovering and quickly reaching out to mess up the order you had placed the pencils in. you kicked at her with your good leg. “go away!”

mapi moved back but she didn’t go away. you raised your eyebrows slightly since you could clearly see that she was holding something back.

you kicked at her again, gently this time, motioning for her to say whatever she wanted to say.

“i might have invited some of the girls over tonight for some food,” she told you, a nervous smile on her face. you stared at her blankly. “do not look at me like that!”

“when you say some–“

“i mean it. it is not a team night, i promise,” you studied her face, searching for any traces of a lie but you found none. “and if it gets too much for you, i will send them all away. even ingrid.”

you laughed softly before nodding. “okay.”

mapi instantly brightened, quickly re-sorting your pencils to the order that she thought they were in before shooting back into the training session.

truthfully, you wanted nothing more than to turn her down, not really wanting to spend time with anyone who wasn’t mapi or ingrid but everyone was trying.

and you owed it to them to try as well.

ᡣ𐭩

mapi was extremely proud of herself. not only did the apartment look great but you were still willing to join the mini girls night she had planned.

ingrid was busying herself with the task of actually making sure they had everything they needed, despite the spaniard’s protests that they did.

so when all of that was finished and mapi knocked on your door to tell you that the girls wouldn’t be long, she really didn’t like what she saw when you opened the door.

your eyes were red and teary, cheeks flushed with dried tear stains on them. your lip jutted out slightly as you sniffled, bagheera circling your legs whilst rubbing against you. you lifted a shaky hand to wipe at your eyes.

mapi didn’t ask you what was wrong because she knew you wouldn’t tell her so instead she gently hugged you before sending you off to ingrid, deciding that you were not in the headspace to deal with as many of the girls as she’d hoped.

grabbing her phone, mapi texted apologies and explanations, feeling nothing but relief when she got sympathy and understanding in return.

ingrid was the one to answer the door when soft knocks echoed through the quiet space. mapi watched with amusement as your face changed, evidently trying to figure out who was there by the voices you could hear.

you brightened up for a second before sinking back into the sofa. you weren’t really sure why any of them had agreed to come, you hadn’t exactly been the nicest person to be around.

that’s why you stayed snuggled up with mapi and bagheera for the first half an hour, focusing solely on the cat and not on the stares you could feel.

“hey,” mapi nudged you and you looked up at her. “we are making pizza.”

“we are?” you asked quietly and she could see the hesitation on your face.

“sí,” she nodded. “they are not mad at you, lo prometo.”

you didn’t really believe her but you were hungry and pizza was one of your favourite foods so you let mapi help you off the sofa and into the kitchen.

glancing around at the newcomers, you decided that ona was your best bet. for multiple reasons. the main one being that alexia, lucy, and keira had all been on the receiving end of your wrath.

“hola, oni.” you said quietly, standing next to her and glancing down at the pizza dough.

“oh, hello,” ona smiled warmly and you felt a little relieved that at least she wasn’t upset with you. “do you know how to do this?”

“i most certainly do. used to do this all the time back in london so we are going to smoke those losers.”

you reached for the knife but huffed when the crutch attached to your arm bounced off the cabinet. you tried again and got the same result. you put aside one of the crutches, keeping the one on the side of your good leg so you could lean your weight on it.

when ona wrapped her arm around your waist to help keep you steady, you purposefully ignored the flip of your stomach and carried on with your plan to cut the pizza into a heart shape.

as the time flew passed, you grew more and more relaxed, eventually finding yourself laughing with the other girls like nothing had ever happened.

you had tried to apologise but they were quick to shut you down, lucy even going as far as shoving a slice of pizza into your mouth when you tried again.

keira and alexia had both hugged you and made you promise that you’d talk to them all more instead of keeping everything inside, a horrible habit of yours.

you swallowed thickly and nodded. “i don’t think i can promise that but i can try.”

ingrid smiled and placed her hand on your knee. “that is all we ask of you, elskling.”

you gave her a small smile in return, eagerly accepting mapi’s offer of picking the movie. you had ended up sitting between her and alexia on the sofa, the former’s fingers combing through your hair.

about halfway through, you felt your eyes getting heavy but lucy was teasing you about it so you were determined to make it to the end of the movie.

you didn’t.

not even five minutes later, you were dozing off and alexia was quick to guide you to lean against her, your head resting comfortably on her shoulder.

you were awoken a little while later when you were placed on your bed, whining at the sudden loss of warmth. your eyes fluttered open and you reached out, wrapping your fist around the hoodie alexia was wearing. “stay.”

“vale.” she slipped next to you under the covers and you immediately nestled into her side.

“night, ale.” you murmured, tucking your head into her neck.

alexia wrapped her arm around you, pulling you closer to her, and rubbing your back soothingly.

“night, cariño.”

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #alexia putellas #maría león #ingrid engen #lucy bronze #keira walsh #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #ona batlle

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furiousgoldfish · 1 year

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One of the issues you run into when you're not allowed to express anger as a child, is that you're no longer able to get angry. When you're in a situation that should evoke rage, you instead feel fear, anxiety, panic, or grief, emotional hurt and helplessness. You end up operating a body that cannot feel or express anger. The only times you do feel angry is when you're directing it at yourself, it comes as a form of self hatred, and desire to cause pain and injury to yourself. Because this is the only way you would have been allowed to be angry, only way it was safe, to direct it at yourself, same as everyone else is doing constantly, teaching you that it's normal and expected.

Growing up like this means that all of the anger from your childhood keeps getting stored into your body instead of externalized, and you still cannot get angry when the situation demands it. Instead, when you're being disrespected and injustice is served in your face, you can either feel helpless and lost, or the frustration you feel irritates you so much you cannot stand it. Your body is not used to feeling anger and doesn't know how to process it. Instead it feels like you're going to explode, restless, endlessly irritated and at a complete loss on how to handle it. Because you never learned how to handle anger, except to take it out on yourself, and you might be driven to just keep doing that, forever.

Taking a stand for yourself and confronting whoever deserved your anger might still feel terrifying and all of the insane things that happened to you as a result of childhood anger might get triggered. You might feel too frightened to confront them because you can imagine all sorts of ways it could come back to hurt you - this person could try to get you fired, for example. They might smear campaign you and get you evicted, they could threaten you with something or blackmail you, they could destroy something of yours, spread rumors, hold a grudge and do thousand times worse to you. Those are thoughts evoked by memories of childhood, where abusive parents threatened and did any or all of these things, including torture, in order to keep you from expressing anger.

However this person is hurting you right now, unprovoked, and getting no resistance. From that, they're learning that they can keep doing it, with zero consequences, because you've already been broken and cannot fight back. That is a dangerous situation to be in too, even if it is impossible to predict whether this person is insane like your parents and will try to get revenge for any bit of resistance for their abuse.

I had situations where I would be pushed over the edge and allowed my anger to come out at someone - and people would sometimes complain about it, but they would usually back off, and I would regain my peace of mind because I created a consequence for disturbing it. Anger, however, doesn't feel good. My body is not used to it so it makes me incredibly tense, stressed, frustrated and upset, and it doesn't go away for several days, even weeks sometimes. Because scratching the surface of it evokes the repressed childhood anger which is almost unbearable with how giant it is.

Human body can learn to process anger, it can feel better, more powerful and more in control because of it. It can protect you without inflicting damage to others. It doesn't make you anything like your abusers, who let their anger out at someone who wasn't their equal, had no way to fight back, and did not deserve any of it. Your anger creates boundaries that keep you safe, it doesn't exist to torture others for existing.

It's easy to fall back into the place where you don't want to be angry, and try to be accommodating and allowing of injustice, just so you don't have to feel frustrated and afraid. I often fall back on it too, just wanting to live and have peace. But life around other people often doesn't allow it, and sometimes anger is necessary to send a message of what boundaries will not be crossed without a consequence. Anger is not a bad feeling, it is an act of self love. It comes out to let you know that you've been treated unfairly and it's there because it's telling you that you matter. That treating you unfairly is something to get mad about.

#anger #rage #anger issues #cptsd #abused child #abuse symptoms #trauma symptoms #repressed anger #processing anger #anger builds boundaries #ptsd #traumatic anger #internalized anger #anger directed at self #not being allowed to bring angry creates self hatred #self love #abuse recovery #trauma recovery

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svnnysidez · 5 months

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nnn drabble with riize members 🩷🩷

(eunseok, seunghan, wonbin, + anton)

(pls dni if under 18 or ageless blog)

warnings: dubcon. riize x fem!reader. no nut november (obviously). all of them have like zero self control. seunghan making fun of his members for having lack of self control. smut obviously. use of petnames. anton being a cutie patootie. erm wonbin cums against readers ass while she sleeps.

eunseok ☆

•he tries so hard to go through nnn

•he honestly gets really far like to day 28

•but he just couldnt hold himself back

•that day you were wearing your thin lounge shorts and a white low cut tank top and he couldnt help himself

“eunseok i thought you wanted to get through no nut november” he just groaned slumping over next to you. “i tried so hard but i couldnt help myself :(” he pouted and sprawled out on the bed. you knew he owed someone money.

(the rest under the cut)

wonbin ☆

•oh lord bro doesnt last more then a week

•he lacks so much basic self control

•ESPECIALLY when it comes to you

•when he told you he was participating in nnn you did not believe in him

•wether it was him loosing to you or his own fist you knew he was not gonna win

•and you were right

“please baby! i promise i wont cum!! and it doesnt count as a loss unless i cum!” he was practically- no he was begging. when i said no self control i meant it. you kept telling him over and over again no. you had made a promise to him that you wouldnt help him with losing and you planned to keep that promise, especially since there was money involved. “no wonbin, i told you i wouldnt help you with losing, if you wanna go fist yourself then go ahead but im not gonna be apart of your downfall.” he started WHINING, he was begging and pleading, saying that it wouldnt feel the same if it wasnt you. you still refused and maybe after 10 refusals he let it go. fast forward a couple hours the two of you were in bed asleep and you had woken up to some rustling. “wonbin what are you- are you kidding me right now.” you saw him trying to clean himself up quickly. you could see the awkward smile on his face. “i told you i needed you! you didnt listen!” “wonbin i swear-”

seunghan ☆

• the amount of self control this man has

• he makes it to the end with no suprise from anyone

• and he kept you satisfied throughout all of november too he didnt just ignore you to get through it

“what do the guys owe you now?” you asked the male as he laid on your thighs as you played with his hair. “we all put in like 25 bucks so im getting the pot. pretty sweet. i dont know how all of them failed. its really not that hard to control yourself.” “i dont know, with them i think half of them would fuck a door knob if it had tits.”

anton ☆

• he tried so hard

• he wanted the money so he could take you out shopping

• it was like two weeks in when he failed

• he tried to hold back so hard but he couldnt do it any longer he felt like he was gonna explode

“s..so sorry, i wanted to stay strong but i just couldnt.” he said while his length was burried into your cunt. you stroked his hair as he softly fucked you. “its okay baby, we all have our weaknesses.” you mumbled. he burried his head into the crook of your neck as he came deep into ur cunt. he really cant hold back when it comes to you, i mean could you blame him ur cunt was so warm and tight, perfect for him.

#riize smut #eunseok smut #wonbin smut #seunghan smut #anton smut #riize x reader #riize x reader smut #riize #i love anton #svnnysidez createsఌ

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mitigatedchaos · 8 months

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Kontextmaschine is Dead

(~1,000 words, 5m)

Noted blogger @kontextmaschine is presumed dead, following the discovery that the sole resident at his most likely residence was found deceased during a wellness check initiated by concerned Redditors.

Prior to his last post on Aug 22, which indicated a serious health problem, he reported taking over twice the dose of creatine he had been taking at the beginning of his lengthy post-COVID health saga, in which he also reported becoming bisexual, having "zero" anxiety, gaining 3D vision after years of not having it, becoming incredibly convincing, and having to learn to walk and use his muscles properly again. At the time, he felt he was becoming trimmer and physically stronger, and reported engaging in a long project of yard work, although photos from the inside of his house generally looked somewhat messy.

A Tumblr user who met him briefly in person after the beginning of the health saga but before these most recent events reported that he was friendly, charismatic, hospitable, and clean, but "physically, a mess," with motor control issues on one side of his body.

Topics of discussion were similar to the content of kontextmaschine's blog, such as differences in east and west coast government in America, said to be "totally on brand," but it was said that the prolific poster seemed "less self-grandiose" in person.

Redditors theorize that the decline of kontextmaschine's health following his first self-report of COVID-19 infection may have been due to undiagnosed brain cancer, which could be more consistent with observed changes in behavior than the after-effects of a viral infection, given that most reports of "long covid" are about effects like fatigue, and not total loss of anxiety or alteration of sexual orientation.

Despite multiple suggestions, from both anonymous and pseudonymous users, kontextmaschine refused to seek professional medical care for his condition.

Regarding the mourning of public figures, in 2018, a period of increased Progressive sensitivity during the Trump Administration, kontextmaschine wrote,

through the years realized that through whatever blind groping the ‘90s-ass “edgelords” were desperately trying to save us from this, through proper gatekeeping and filtering at first I’d thought it was gratuitous and supported it being relaxed, maybe not shaming everyone who publicly mourned a suicide, mea culpa, mea culpa, I have debts to pay

In 2019, he added:

That was how we kept the internet culture from growing mawkish and cry-bullyish: basically, if you were so weak as to get weepy over corpsemeat you got cancelled, the shame would follow you forever and you’d never be allowed to forget it.

Given his writing, it is likely that kontextmaschine would not have supported excessive public mourning over his death, though in 2017, following the theft of his motorcycle, when the popular blogger @argumate jokingly criticized him by writing, "no references to pinball, no insight into historical Americana, this isn’t the kontext I signed up for," kontextmaschine wrote,

“when bad shit happens people mock me accurately” is the community I’ve been looking for my whole life so

Like argumate, perhaps the most famous of the rationalist-adjacent bloggers on Tumblr, screenshots of kontextmaschine's Tumblr posts would end up on outside websites.

Kontextmaschine was generally considered an interesting, if controversial writer. One Tumblr user characterized him as a member of the "obnoxious Tumblr right," though another user asked, "wait, how is kontextmaschine is right wing?" After another user claimed that the nuclear bombing of Oregon would be a net improvement in the world due to kontextmaschine's residence in Portland, tumblr user @random-thought-depository wrote a 2,400 word theory post arguing that kontextmaschine's philosophy was a means to coordinate to join a future political coalition favoring the formation of a more brutal and oppressive hierarchy in pursuit of his own advantage.

Though kontextmaschine's ideology advocates that humanity should adopt "r-selection," meaning more offspring with less investment in each (or youth, sex, and death), this blog dissented against the coalition theory, arguing that motorcycles, kung fu, women, Hollywood, and not having to report to HR are all traditionally cool, and the causality of the kontextmaschine ideology could easily run the other way.

Though he had a period of identifying as female in his youth, appropriately LGBTQ for a Tumblr user, his 2011 statement of principles, including "the lesser yields to the greater" and "suffering is the mark of a wrong person," and general body of work, could be described as a strain of right-wing thought, though not of the traditionalist Christian or rational technocratic varieties.

Prior to the post-covid health saga, kontextmaschine's health posting was primarily about his bipolar disorder, with both manic and depressive phases.

Kontextmaschine maintained generally friendly relations with other bloggers in his sphere of discourse, sometimes debating but rarely aggressive, except in response to anonymous hatemail. In response to one particular piece of hatemail, kontextmaschine stated that as a writer, of course his primary form of influence would be his posts.

In a post chain reblogged by dozens of Tumblr users, multiple Tumblr users wrote that they enjoyed his writing and are disappointed by his death, describing him as a unique thinker that will not be easily replaced. Several felt that there was not much they could have done, as after returning from his covid infection, he was not taking medical advice.

One Tumblr user wrote, "rip. Inspirational manic poster," while long-time and prolific poster argumate described him as, "one of the bloggers of all time."

Internet users speculate that Kontextmaschine is survived by his outdoor cat, Badger, about whom he posted frequently. He may also be survived by other members of his family, with whom he apparently did not live, and rarely spoke about.

It is recommended that enthusiasts of kontextmaschine's blog make backups of his writing for archival purposes.

#tumblr tumblr tumblr #mitigated news #kontextmaschine #longpost #flagpost #obituary

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takami-takami · 1 year

Text

Accidents.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. suggestive.

warnings— daddy kink. predator/prey undertones. keigo being a meanie.

You wish the ground would just swallow you whole before his smug look does.

"Don't let it get to your head! Keigo—" You squeak, covering your own face with one hand and pushing his away with the other. Your palm does nothing to quell the mischievous laughing fit that your boyfriend doesn't seem to have the courtesy nor self control to keep to himself.

Don't let it get to his head? His head couldn't be any bigger in this moment.

He seizes the opening to situate himself on top of you with ease, keeping you caged beneath him so he can bear witness to the full extent of your misery. Your hands lie helpless, locked under his hold and pinned above your head to leave you wide open. He wants nothing obstructing his view of your dreadfully desperate squirms.

He considers locking your legs in place beneath his, too. It wouldn't be difficult at all to overpower you, but the butterfly kicks behind his back that ruffle the sheets beneath are just too delicious to watch.

Your bedroom has become a locked box of your whimpers and flails, and he loves it. What he wouldn't give to cage you here and throw away the key.

"Keigo...? Sorry, dunno who that is." His eyes roll in time with his shoulders, while that wicked grin never falters.

"Could've sworn you were just calling me something else," he sings above you. He purses his lips like he just can't catch his thought. Bastard. You'd be screaming into your hands if you had access to them. "What was it you said... What was it..." he hums a devilish, giddy tune, turning to catch your eye.

"Care to remind me?"

"You're an asshole!"

"No, that's not quite what you called me."

You huff in response, opting to stare at the ceiling behind him. Anywhere but that stupid, god-awful, pretty face of his. Maybe if you try to pull your wrists free, he'd take pity on you and— nope, still not giving an inch of leeway.

He notices your weak attempt. Poor thing, he thinks. You don't actually think there's anywhere to run, do you? Your halfhearted flailing underneath him is cute though, he'll give you that. So cute. Almost as cute as your little slip-up that got you into this fucking mess.

This is your mess, you know. You did start it, after all, and who is Keigo if not a man who finishes the job? It'd be criminal to not keep this game going for as long as it'll take to satisfy his instinct to torment you.

He's not a sadist, he swears.

He just knows prey when he sees it.

"Kei', I didn't— can you please just let this go?" You finally look at him with those puppy dog eyes. In another circumstance, they would get him to do whatever you want; but for once, he decides to be selfish. He's just having too much fun.

"Why should I? Don't tell me you're embarassed," he posits, as if you aren't the picture of shame incarnate beneath him. "Nothin' to be embarassed about, doll." He closes the gap between you, nose barely brushing the line of your jaw before he dares to have a taste. "Plenty of people would jump at the oppurtunity to call me da—"

"Hawks!"

"Oooh, yet another name and you still won't repeat the one from earlier. Gonna hurt my feelings, baby." Raptor eyes zero in on the juncture of your neck. When you strain to turn your head away from him, you leave your jugular completely exposed. He sighs. You're fucking helpless. He supposes that's why he's the pro hero, and you're just the little hare captured betwixt his talons.

With a finality settling in his gut, he latches on and sinks his canines into you. You go limp below with the hitch of a breath, kicks slowing to a halt.

"You know, I think I like this." When his hands release yours, he's sure your muscles won't even twitch. Frozen under his spell, you are the moth to his proverbial flame; the rabbit in his headlights.

"I think that name is already one of my favorites. You'll say it again for me, won't you? Tell me..."

"Who's your fucking daddy?"

#i hope yall like this one!!!#keigo being a meanie is my weakness #🖋 writing #🌶 spice #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha imagines #smut mention #hawks smut #mha x reader #hawks <3 <3 <3 <3

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draemgal · 27 days

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wait for your love | azriel

i should be writing my humanities essay but why would i do that when i can listen to ari and write about my fav bat boy?

flashes of amber fire dance in his dark eyes as he stands with his arms crossed in front of the bonfire, letting the heat warm his bones and soothe the aches in his muscles. drunken bodies and mindless chatter surround him but he refrains from drinking and instead focuses his eyes on his best friends. cassian, with his smile so big that it nearly touches the outer corner of his eyes, and rhysand, whose confidence is almost sickening as he sits on a tree stump surrounded with women who hang on to every word that fall from his parting lips.

sighing, he cracks his neck and pokes the raging fire with a long stick. the bags underneath his eyes are illuminated from the mixture of flame and moonlight, making him appear almost as tired as he feels. life had been going rough for azriel, and as much as he likes to bottle it up and shove it into the deepest crevices of his brain, his friends had somehow noticed. after you stopped coming around, cassian had tried his best to fill your place the best he could. he would treat azriel with such softness that it turned azriel's stomach. he couldn't stand being treated like he was fragile--delicate. but somehow, between losing you and hearing of your life continuing as if he was never a part of it, that is what he had become.

the only word to equate to what azriel was feeling was lost. he no longer knew how to bring air into his lungs and dispel it, to soak in the world's colors that were painted on trees and sidewalks. he could no longer hear laughter without hearing yours or look at crowds without imagining your face nestled someplace within them. the only place he truly felt safe from your constant lingering was parties.

you had always hated parties. you hated the noise, the stench of alcohol, the pushing of sweaty bodies. azriel was never fond of them either so it had never bothered him. but now, he spends his time drunk to numbness on a stranger's bathroom floor or in another fae woman's bed because he can finally escape the reality of his new life without you in it.

while the flames danced, he closed his eyes and relaxed the tension in his shoulders. he tried to flush his sober brain's thoughts, cursing himself for opting to be the babysitter tonight. from behind him, a branch cracks from the pressure of someone stepping on it. he opens his eyes and turns around, meeting eyes with feyre. her eyes are slightly widened, concern painted across her firelit face. she approached him slowly, stepping in front of him.

azriel furrowed his brows and looked down at her. "are you okay?"

she sucked in a sharp breath and nodded. "i am, but...azriel.." the way her voice got soft when she said his name made his stomach twist. he hated how his friends saw him now--as a lost and heartbroken boy in need of fixing. he knew he shouldn't be angry by their affection, but he couldn't help but feel shame.

he felt rhysand's hand clasp onto his shoulder after feyre finished.

"what?" his voice grew with annoyance at his friends. they seemed like they were walking on eggshells, the way their actions seemed calculated and rehearsed.

"she's...here." feyre said, looking up at azriel and frowning slightly.

it was like the world was turned on it's axis. he swore he felt everyone freeze, his heartbeat drumming in his ears as he zeroed in on the crowd. his eyes were searching, scanning for the face he both longed for and loathed seeing.

"az, stop." rhy's said, grabbing azriel's jaw and peeling his frantic gaze away.

a familiar feeling of anxiety coursed through the man's veins as he imagined seeing you again. what would he even do, much less say? surely he didn't have the self control to ignore you and act like you didn't show up and turn his world around. perhaps the most worrying thing was that you didn't go to parties, but here you were.

under the moon hung like a shining pearl in the darkness, you stood between to bodies in the crowd. his heart stopped beating for a second--your eyes meeting across the dancing amber flame. you stopped short too, almost as if you were debating turning on your heels and going back home. it was like the second you met your former lover's eyes you lost the knowledge of how to move your legs, to listen to what your brain was so desperately telling you to do.

"azriel, you can't." feyre pleaded, trying her best to contain him from walking your way with rhysand, but azriel had his heart set on speaking to you tonight. he hadn't heard from you in months, now may be his only chance.

"she's torn you apart, brother." rhysand tried to reason, but it fell on azriel's deaf ears.

leaves crunched underneath both of your feet as you cautiously approached each other, meeting in the middle. the windchill nipped at your heels as you studied him. dark circles, his hair in lazy, tousled unkempt curls upon his head. looking at him broke your heart more than it already was. it took every fiber in your being not to reach out and place your hand on his cheek like you had done so much in the past.

the two of you were quiet, both fighting your internal battles and seeming to lose. his lips parted slightly as he seemed like he almost wanted to stumble back from you. his dark eyes bore into yours, reflecting the stars back towards you.

you closed your eyes, pushing the tears back into the ducts they had emerged from. inhaling a sharp breath and exhaling, you opened them. right as you were about to break the silence first, he beat you to it.

"what are you doing here?" his voice was laced with many emotions, ranging from anger to confusion.

"i...i don't know." your voice wobbled, beads of salt falling off your bottom lashes and trailing down your cheeks. "i don't know."

his face softened briefly but he shook out of it quicker than it could register. he chewed on the inside of his cheek, his thick brows lowered and hands tucked into his pockets.

"you came here because you didn't know?" you wanted to flinch at his tone, the sarcasm and bluntness it spewed. you deserved it, you knew this. you had tried to stop your arms for reaching for your car keys, for putting the car in ignition and driving to this godforsaken party. to stop your feet from trudging through the brush until you met the clearing. to stop your eyes from meeting his. really, you had tried, yet it had not been enough.

"az, please." you were crying now and folding your arms across your chest, tightening your grip on your sweater.

"i just..." he shook his head and tore his eyes from yours, zeroing in on the trees. "why now?"

"what do you me-"

"why now? i am finally starting to recover from the devastation you put me through. i finally ate last week, slept even. i had my first night where i didn't see your goddamn face in my dreams--where you weren't my first thought when i woke up for a fucking split second."

you choked on sobs now, your heart laying in millions of shattered pieces at your feet. "azriel, please-"

"no, it's time you listen. after you sent me to voicemail so many times i memorized it, you are going to listen," he breathed before beginning again. "do you know how they are treating me right now? like i am made of glass, y/n. they don't see me the same way anymore because of what my obsession with you has done to me. i love you, y/n. i love you so much it actually is fucking destroying me. i have been replaying that night over and over and driving myself insane. i cannot fathom how you just up and walked out--how you didn't even have the decency to tell me why--to tell me what i did. do you even have any clue what that does to a person? to be abandoned?"

the way his eyes looked straight into yours turned your stomach. you choked back a sob and rubbed the tears off your chin. you had never meant this--had never meant for it to go this far. you had a habit of running from your problems, he knew this. he knew that when things got scary it was easier for you to self sabotage and disappear. the guilt you felt in this moment was immense and overwhelming. but you knew what you had to do. after tonight, you may no longer have a shot to right your wrongs.

"i'm pregnant."

it was almost instantly, how fast his face dropped. how fast his burning anger fled from his face, along with the color in his cheeks. his eyes widened with shock as he looked at you, his hands dropping loosely to his sides.

"you're what?" he whispered back, his body ever so still.

you looked down at your shoes and broke down, tearing down your mental dam you built and letting every emotion you had buried for the past two months flow out. "i-i'm so sorry, azriel." you croaked. "i was so scared...i didn't know what to do. i thought that..." you were almost incoherent now, but he heard every word.

"i thought that if i walked out first it would hurt less than you leaving me. but it didn't. it didn't, azriel. instead it hurt the both of us. i didn't mean for all of this to happen, i'm just so fucking scared."

his arms were suddenly tightly around you, one hand around your waist and his other cupping the back of your head. you sobbed into his chest as his familiar scent flowed up into your nostrils. mascara ran down your cheeks and stained his shirt but you didn't care as you fought to get air into your lungs.

"hey, hey..." his voice was soft but his eyes were distant. "baby...breathe."

this only made you cry harder. your shaking body crumbled in his arms as he held you up and close to him. "i-i'm so fucking sorry."

he shook his head and pressed a firm kiss on the top of your head. "we can talk about that later, my love. we can talk about it--all of it--when we get home. for now, let me just hold you." his voice cracked, tears welling in his dark eyes.

you nodded and wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling your wet face into the crook of his neck. "i love you, azriel. i love you so much that i feel like i'm constantly in fight or flight--like i need to leave first before you can leave me..."

he shushed you and rocked you back and forth, shaking his head again. "you should know by now i would never leave you." he was quiet again for a bit before sighing and resting his chin on the top of your head. "both of you." he whispered, watching the fire dance from a distance as he rubbed gentle circles on your back.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel one shot #azriel x you

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piratefishmama · 9 months

Text

Fake It 'Till You Make It | Part 7

“Are you sure we’re ready for this?” Eddie didn’t feel ready for it. Although they’d definitely spent the better half of the morning and a little of the afternoon getting used to kissing, something Eddie would remember for the rest of his life and maybe thank Dustin for at a later date, and maybe curse him a little for because Steve wouldn’t take it any further than kissing.

Dude had some impressive self-control. No handsy behaviour, no leading, didn’t even follow when Eddie tried subtly nudging it. They had a goal in mind, and he wasn’t getting side tracked for anything.

Eddie might have felt self-conscious about that, had he not kept feeling Steve’s grin against his lips whenever he tried, or those little warning nips which both told him to stay on track and fed the mischievous little gremlin that was his brain. He was growing his confidence!

Steve was helping him be confident!

“We’ve gotta be, sooner we get this over with, the better.” They were sat in his BMW in the Harrington driveway, engine off, psyching themselves up. Steve climbed out of the car,

Eddie following shortly after with a grumbled “Better for who exactly?”

Steve wished he had an answer for that. But the longer he sat with the idea that they had to reveal this ‘relationship’ to his parents, the more daunting it became. It’d be fine. He knew it’d be fine, the worst case scenario was that they wouldn’t like Eddie, okay no worst case scenario was that their behaviours had been performative in an attempt to call his bluff, but that was looking less and less likely.

They could just… not like him. Not think him good enough. Judge his clothes, his hair, his social class, they could be mean, out of touch rich people so easily. But at least if they got this over with quickly, he’d know if it’d work.

“…The plan I guess. If they don’t like you then—”

“Jobs off?” At least Eddie could say he’d gotten to make out with Steve Harrington, to approximately zero people because who could he brag about that with? It was a personal victory for himself.

“Mmhm... that’s ok right?” Slowly they made for the door.

“Sure, no harm no foul, I got to make-out with Steve Harrington and I’d get to go back to bed, I’m calling that a win.” He didn’t care if it went to Steve’s ego, and from the smile lighting up his face it did a little, he got to make out with Steve Harrington. “Let’s get this over with, Stevie.” He could handle a little rich person judgement if they didn’t like him.

His whole shtick was aiming for parents to not like him, he wasn’t made of glass. He could handle it. And as such, he gave Steve’s perfect ass a light smack because honestly when else was he going to get the chance to do that, and went off in front headed for the big, over the top red double door entry.

Steve, only momentarily stunned by the smack, shook himself out of it and jogged to catch up, hissing a harried “wait up, Eddie!” That only served to earn an over the shoulder grin from his ‘boyfriend’ before he was turning and walking backwards, amusement dimpling his cheeks and lighting up his face.

He really was attractive, wasn’t he? Not a thought Steve figured he’d be having at random but... it wasn’t unwelcome. Eddie was... pretty. Pretty and fun.

Maybe the kids were right, maybe Eddie was worth the effort to get to know.

So it wasn’t as much of a surprise as maybe it should have been that... he actually really hoped they would like him.

Wasn’t that an interesting thought?

“Okay just... be—”

“-haaaave? Be pleasant? Beeee polite?” Be anything but himsel—

“Yourself Eddie. Be yourself.” Oh. His surprised must have showed because instead of opening the front door, Steve paused and decided in a moment of sheer ‘fuck it’ cupped Eddie’s cheeks and just held his face. “Be yourself... you’re not unlikeable, you’re charming, and funny, and goofy, and they’re going to like you” God he hoped so. His thumb caressed the soft, warm cushion of Eddie’s cheeks taking in those big brown doe eyes so wide, full of surprise “so just be yourself, alright?”

“... Kiss for good luck?” Maybe it was just a bid to lessen the tension, the feelings bubbling within from being touched so gently, but it worked about as efficiently as a chocolate fireguard, because Steve kissed him.

It was soft, and chaste, quick so the neighbours wouldn’t see, but it chased any nerves Eddie might have had right out the metaphorical window. Didn’t help the feelings from erupting like goddamn Vesuvius but, the nerves vanished.

“It’s gonna be okay” it’d be okay. “Walk behind me alright? I’ll introduce you and we’ll riff from there” they were doing this. He was about to out himself to two complete wild card strangers in shitsville Indiana.

It’d be okay, it’d be okay. It’d be okay.

“Okay... promise me they’re not gonna turn on me, like... they can hate me but...” hurting him was... a real risk.

“Eddie... I’m with you. Okay? They turn on you... I’ve got you. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Even though they’re your parents?”

Steve tucked a stray curl behind Eddie’s ear and offered him a warm, comforting smile “I’ll side with you long before I side with them, I swear. They wanna get to you, they’d have to go through me.” He was both younger and stronger than his parents. They tried anything and he wouldn’t hesitate to get between them. “And trust me, they wouldn’t be able to.”

Steve may not have been known for winning fights but... he was still pretty damn big, could definitely overpower a couple of older rich people. “...Okay.” He’d be safe. Steve would protect him.

He could be brave.

Steve opened the door and stepped inside, Eddie following behind him trying not to think too hard about how the last time he’d been there it’d been at night and it’d been heaving with teenagers being stupid.

There’d been alcohol, he’d been selling drugs, it looked different during the day.

“Steven?! Is that you?!” Came a feminine voice from somewhere within. Steve seemed to know where though, because his hand found Eddie’s, lacing their fingers together to gently tug him in that direction until they reached the dining room door where Steve let him go to make himself known

“Yeah it’s me, is Dad home?” Eddie remained out of sight as instructed, feeling the nerves bubble in his gut again, kind of missed Steve’s hand around his, it felt nice.

“He’s in the living room with me, is something wrong?” She sounded pleasant, inquisitive, Eddie had never met Lynda Harrington, never seen her before in his life, not even photos as the house didn’t seem to have them.

The Harrington’s didn’t like clutter.

They could do this. They had their bare bones story, they were comfortable kissing, and apparently holding hands was easy too, definitely didn’t make his chest do a wibbly little thing. Didn’t make his chest do that at all. Steve had him wait just to the side of the doorway as he entered, definitely the bravest man Eddie had ever met in his entire goddamn life.

Didn’t know a single person capable of a more ballsy move than what Steve Harrington was about to do.

Even if the roles were reversed and he was telling Wayne about Steve it still wouldn’t be as ballsy! Steve was a catch, it’d be like the Jester had bagged the King. The other way round… Steve was clearly way out of his league.

“Nothing wrong, no. I uh… I wanted to talk to you about something.” Eddie leaned back against the wall, let the flat surface of it ground him as he listened. It’d be okay. He’d be okay. “You know how I’ve been… less than… enthused, about all the… ehem, potential people you’ve been trying to introduce me to?”

“How can we forget? Speaking of which, Heather, you know Heather, the Holloway’s daughter?” Eddie stuffed the bend of his thumb into his mouth to stop himself from making a noise, yeah, good luck with Heather, she was busy with Megan.

“Heh, yeah, yeah I know Heather, we got our life guard certification together, but she’s irrelevant, not—not irrelevant I don’t mean it like that” god what were their facial expressions like if Steve was stumbling so much “she’s… not—okay, heh, start over. The reason that I’ve been against all this is… well you know how I said I’m… I’m bisexual?” Eddie assumed at least one of them nodded during the brief pause “w-well, I’m… already seeing someone. And I have been for a few weeks now…”

“What?! Steven! Why didn’t you tell me, heavens now I have to cancel with—”

“With whom, mom?” Maybe Steve’s fears weren’t as unfounded as some might have thought them to be.

“…Nobody. Go on.”

“Well… I didn’t tell you, because… he… was nervous about being known, which y’know, fair, he doesn’t know you, it could be dangerous for him, frankly I didn’t even know you’d be totally okay with it, but—but with the week away coming up I was hoping that maybe… maybe you’d let me bring him with us?” There it was, the in, it was coming, he’d have to be seen soon. Breeeath, it’d be okay. He’d be okay.

“Oh!” Oh? What did oh mean? Was oh bad? Would oh be—

“Could we meet him first?” Masculine, Steve’s father. Holy shit. His dad. His dad. John Harrington. Fuck.

“Yeah! I uhm… he’s here actually. Uh… one second.” Steve dipped back out into the walk through where Eddie looked at him through wide, slightly panicked doe eyes. “Hey… it’s okay…” could have paid him millions, it wouldn’t erase the fright that seemed to settle into his bones when the time to shine arrived. He’d never had stage fright before. Maybe he should have given Greg, the kid playing Hamlet more of a break during that school production of Hamlet he’d flipped out just before. “Eddie… c’mere” he drew Eddie in, coaxed him away from that wall and drew him into his embrace. “It’s okay, I’m right here, it’s safe, nothing and no one is going to hurt you while I’m here, okay?”

“Steven, is he—” Steve turned his head to look back at his father in the doorway, Eddie just about visible in his arms, wide eyed and frankly freaking out just a little “Oh Steven…”

Part 9

#PirateWrites #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Fake Dating AU #Eddie's scared kitten mode: activated

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peachesofteal · 8 months

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Bc I love angst and making hearts heavy what if WHAT IF THE CALL FROM YOU IS THEM FINALY GOT YOU and you begged and pleaded that you have jo affiliation with soap and ghost anymore. That they wouldn't even answer the phone. They make you call them anyways. AND THEN SIMON ANSWERS and it's all tumbled in your brain. Happiness to hearing him and some birthday song in the background, anger, tjat je answerd. How dare he. Why did he changed that stupid habit now. Fear for ypu and fear of what they might know of bee.

SCREAMS! This is so ✨ ugh. Takes place after this.

18+ / Mature themes, mentions of self harm, torture. / disco baby au

“Simon?” His heart stops in his chest.

It’s you. It’s your voice, ringing through the phone. He glanced towards the kitchen, where Johnny is wiping Bee’s hands with a wet wipe. She’s babbling up at him, face like a cherub, and he smiles back at her, cheeks pushing up with genuine happiness. His heart hurts, just looking at them. His family. His family, missing a piece.

He says your name, not love, not Darling, your government name, and your breath hitches in the background.

Johnny stands straight up, wipe still crushed in his fingers, zeroing in on where he stands in the hall. Gaz has got Bee in his arms now, making funny faces to her pure delight, but Price is watching Simon closely, clued in by both his and Johnny’s sudden shift, their change in body language.

“Simon.” You say his name again, and his eyes narrow. You sound… different. Garbled. Like you’ve been crying, and all he can see is the handwritten notes in Bee’s chart about ‘Mum’ who the doctor worried had no support at home, ‘Mum’ who was given a laundry list of support resources for PPD.

He never thought he’d hear your voice again. Never thought they’d see you again.

“Darling, are you okay?” He asks softly, because right now, nothing else matters. He needs to know if you’re alright.

“I- I uh…” Bee shrieks in the background, screaming with laughter at Gaz and you stop speaking abruptly. “Is… is that?”

“Yeah, we’re having a little party. For her birthday.” Johnny stands at his shoulder.

“Darling?” He mouths, and Simon nods. Affirmative.

“That’s… good. That’s great.” Your voice cracks.

“Are you alright?” He repeats, and the line goes dead silent, like the mic has been muted. Price is now standing at the end of the hall, watching. “Darling? Are you there?”

A fist tightens in your hair, pulling it tight at the roots, and you hiss, trying to move to relieve the pressure but it’s no use. The barrel of the gun digs into your temple, and you try to take a deep breath. The man, the one you dubbed ‘big man’, crouches in front of you, and the one wearing the mask, gives you the ‘keep going’ signal, as you swallow the blood that’s pooled in your mouth.

“I- I’m here.” Simon. I’m here. I’m here. I miss you so, so much. I need you. You want to scream it at him, but the man points at the screen of the computer on the table to your side, the instructions very clear. Say this, don’t say that. You close your eyes. Why did he have to answer the phone?

Bee laughs again, in the background, and your heart breaks. Your baby. Your baby is there. Your baby is safe, with her Dads. Where she belongs.

Where they’re being traced to, right now. On this open phone line.

You have to warn them.

“How is she?” You ask, because you can’t help it, because you so desperately want to know. You want to know everything about her.

You didn’t want your baby to be a stranger, you didn’t want to leave her on the doorstep that day.

You didn’t know what else to do. You couldn’t stop hurting yourself. You needed help.

“She’s amazing.” He answers, and you close your eyes, sob welling in your chest. “Brilliant, beautiful. Like her mum. She’s our whole world.” You can’t fight your tears now, and you smile, even though your lip is split and your cheek is bruised.

“I’m so happy.” You whisper. You don’t fight to keep your voice controlled or even.

“What’s going on?” He asks sharply, and there’s some scuffling in the background.

“This line is being traced.” You blurt, and then there are hands grabbing for you, for the phone. “You’re not safe!” You scream. A fist crashes into the side of your head, and stars blink across your vision. The man who was holding the gun is now holding also holding the phone, and Simon’s voice is crackling across the air via speakerphone.

“Put her back on the phone. Now.” It’s a command, but one they don’t heed.

“Don’t think we will.” Big man says.

“If ye touch a fucking hair on her head…” Johnny shouts, and your heart twists at the sound of his voice. Johnny. Your Johnny. You miss him so much.

“Too late for that, mate. Not sure you’ll even recognize the pieces of her when we mail them.” A whimper slips from your mouth on accident, and you slam your eyes shut when the fingers yank at your hair again.

“I’m sorry!” You yell, because you have to, have to tell them that you’re so sorry. They made you call. You’d never put Bee in danger. Never put them in danger. “I’m so sorry, they made me, they-“ you don’t see the butt of the gun until it’s too late, until it’s whipping towards the side of your head, and then the entire world is fading to black as your body slumps towards the floor.

#peaches asks #peaches writes #disco baby au #soap x reader x ghost

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blorbocedes · 1 month

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For the prompt game: woke up in the wrong body? Clonecest? German twincest? They get freaky friday'd? Whatever your heart desires

Lewis doesn't actually notice anything’s wrong until Nico says, “Don’t worry, we’ll be good. Right, Lew?” to Toto at the end of the Wednesday debrief, flashing a sunny smile.

Lewis stiffens immediately. Nico hasn't called him that in years. What angle is he playing at here? And since when does he joke around during debriefs? Thinking back, Nico had been bouncing around the garage, peeking at both their cars’ suspensions and chatting animatedly to the engineers, even on Lewis’ side of the garage.

The meeting ends, with Toto and Paddy dispersing the team and Nico hangs around, lingering.

“What was that back there?”

Nico sways, shifting his weight from one heel to the other. “Just being good teammates. Buddies, friends.”

Before Lewis can react, Sebastian Vettel storms in with his Ferrari race suit unzipped at the waist, snapping in rapid German.

Nico looks guilty in a sheepish way, says something back that Lewis can only make out his name from.

What the fuck is going on?

Lewis turns to Seb because he doesn't want to deal with Nico being weird. “Hey, man, you're not supposed to be here.”

Seb grimaces, it looks all wrong on his mouth. And his hair is… styled? Coiffed, almost. Lewis wasn't aware Sebastian owned a brush. Nico, on the other hand, had completely unstyled hair today, bangs falling over his eyes like he air dried after taking a shower; not his usual put together self. Lewis doesn't think about him or his hair routine to wonder why.

“You are right,” Seb says with none of his usual playfulness. His mouth is flattened into a thin line. “Nico, a word?”

“Am I in trouble?” Nico quips. “I barely even looked at the cars! Seriously, might be better for your championship chances if you're not dangling your balls in the pool.”

It's a pretty nonsensical remark, especially from Nico who uses controlled diplomacy as a double edged sword. Sebastian, on the other hand, frowns – eyebrows scrunching and mouth going in an almost perfect displeased scowl. It doesn't suit Seb, but it's a face he’s seen a million times on Nico, has teased out of him, has put it on every time he misses a pole, a win, a podium. The way Nico’s standing, his hair, the way he's carrying himself – it's all wrong.

Lewis grabs Nico by the arm. “You're not –” Lewis doesn't even finish his accusation because it's absurd.

Nico looks at him, surprised, and then breaks into a shit-eating grin, self possessed and cocky. “He really doesn't give you enough credit. He thought you wouldn't notice.”

“I shouldn't have trusted you to act normal.” Is Sebastian’s sullen reply, eyes narrowed and zeroed in on where Lewis is holding Nico’s arm. Lewis lets go, suddenly self-conscious.

He hates this, being talked over like he's not even there. The mechanics are starting to notice from outside that Sebastian Vettel in red in their conference room, as if Silvia’s going to come chasing after him any minute. Lewis’ curiosity wins over the facade of being cool and not cracking in case Sebastian and Nico woke up and decided to become best friends and pull an orchestrated prank on him.

“Will either of you tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“Lewis, we need to talk. Somewhere private. Your motorhome.” Sebastian’s tone is bossy, standing arms crossed. He doesn't wait, setting off with a determined ease like he knows exactly where it is.

Nico follows suit, adding in a stage whisper, “By that, he means sex.”

#is this anything?#my fics #sebcedes #blorbocedes ask #f1 rpf #freaky Friday sebcedes

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wandixx · 8 months

Text

I just realized that there is literally zero fanfics with Danny Fenton/M'gann M'orzz pairing and idk, am I the only one who see nearly endless potential in it?

I don't know how they met but they're probably pretty fast friends.

With Danny being space nerd, he would ask M'gann all the questions about Mars. At the same time, from what little I know about Miss Martian, she is "Earth nerd" and would ask him all the questions about Earth and what normal teenage life is like, because YL team is not the best study case. Like, only Wally and maybe Artemis (I don't know a thing about her other than 'snarky/blunt archer') had normal human life. He is happy to answer, introducing her to his semi normal life before accident.

They exchanged stories about stars from their respective homes.

Just imagine, Danny binge watching "Hello Megan" just to know what she is talking about and it's not his thing, really, but he learnt to enjoy it because he associated it with M'gann (we can have Jazz being fan too and feeling 'betrayed' because she tried to strongarm her brother to watch it for years and all it took was to cute alien girl to mention it and he is pulling all nighters).

Just imagine, M'gann asking one of her teammates (probably Robin) to teach her to play Doomed, so she can play with her halfa friend and his friends and not ask about every controller. They don't really mind her being newbie but sudden progress doesn't go unnoticed or unpraised.

Everlasting trio inviting her to Nasty Burger every once in a while to talk about random, not hero related things.

Rest of the YJ may not even know about Phantom. They just know about this Danny, M'gann's totally civilian friend, who likes milkshakes and video games.

They share their stories and tips about heroing and powers they have similar. Mostly M'gann shares things she learnt from her uncle or in Mountain because let's be honest, self taught is rarely better than someone with proper mentoring. She for sure helps with ghosts if they attack during her visit, even if Danny tries to shield her from it. "I'm supposed to be your civilian friend, am I not?"

She definitely does what she can to help with his hero PR. She may or may not accidentally convinced rest of the Team she has celebrity crush on underappreciated ghost hero from the middle of the nowhere. They help her, spamming all negative news reports with praises for Phantom from both hero and civilian accounts. It caused some mess, Justice League had questions but Danny was happy so it doesn't matter.

If we go with ghost being super emphatic we can have Danny overwhelmed by everyone's feelings (honest hate his parents have towards his hero persona, confliction of towns people, concern of his friends, excitement of Casper students idk, EVERYTHING) and M'gann helps him overcome it. Later both of them being there for eachother when everything was just too much. Y'know just this mutual understanding that nobody else can really give them.

Maybe some communication troubles because M'gann prefers telepathy and Danny does not like it in a slightest (Freakshow flashbacks or something) but tries to accommodate. Or M'gann doesn't even try because idk, one of telepathy rules is "don't read thoughts of dying person unless they project it to you" and she feels it goes for dead (even if only halfway) too.

They're just vibing with eachother.

Then there is ghost attack outside Amity and Team is send to deal with it. M'gann is surprisingly competent at dealing with everything ghost does while evacuating civilians while someone magic competent is called. Suddenly she stops, gets her phone and makes a call:

"Hey Danny, do you have a moment?" whole team is too shocked to react, because in the love of whatever they believe in, why is Megan calling her civilian friend in the middle of the battle with unknown entity. "It's [insert whatever ghost you want] wrecking havoc. Can you come by at take them to the zone? I don't have thermos on me right now. Thank you."

WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?

Que Danny flying top speed to wherever she is, fights a ghost and contains them. Que someone (maybe Wally) being like:

"When did you wanted to tell us that your civilian friend is a hero?"

M'gann honest to god forgot that Team thought Danny was a civilian.

"I worked quite hard to drag her into as little of my Phantom bullshit as I could. I am proud of being a civilian friend, thank you very much"

They all came in contact together after that.

Martian Manhunter tried to give Fenton a shovel talk but boy was too excited to meet his favourite hero and to focused on not making fool of himself to be actually scared or something. He deals with Skulker on a regular basis anyway, there are very few threats that could actually scare him.

Team members also tried to shovel talk him, just in case. They all failed for one reason or another

Or maybe Danny is already YJ member. Everything above can still happen just without ghost attack. Danny can have issues with Zeta Tubes though. That's a good stuff.

There can be a drama of "I'm your friend only because I'm alien/semi normal, am I not?"

Or we can go with space obsessed Danny going full Vlad on cute alien girl. Y'know, because "that's a halfa thing to do". M'gann is not into that. I'm not really excited about this take but that's a possibility too.

Use it as you will. Just please someone write it

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #no other fandom tags to not iritate people in either fandom who aren't into dp x dc stuff #just let them vibe #danny fenton/m'gann m'orzz #they could be so cute together #danny's reveal to yj could be something like:#M'gann: shapeshifts into her civilian disguise #Danny: oh I can do that too #and then shifts into his human form #que everyone is shocked #everyone other than m'gann #she knew #Wally: Why are ghosts Martians on steroids?#i definitely don't have around 1000 if no more words of Danny comforting M'gann after she saw civilian die in car crash she couldn't prevent #he found a ghost and dragged them and all that jazz just give his friend a closure #but he was really sus about it so uncle J'onn does not approve #“M'gann what are martian funeral traditions?”#that's the question that started this whole mess #I know nearly nothing about dc martians so it probably doesn't make to much sense canon wise #that's the reason why i won't post it #probably #maybe I'll get myself to do research and edit what I have to fit #who knows #do i tag correctly?#idk how to tag

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shikai-the-storyteller · 11 months

Text

The Federation, The Census Bureau, QSMP, Cucurucho, and Roier

Something fishy is going on regarding Roier and the higher powers of the QSMP, and after chatting with @kasiobite, I've realized that things are a lot more complicated than we first thought.

We do know a few things though:

Roier considered Cucurucho a friend for a long time (he doesn't anymore after Bobby's death)

Cucurucho was, and has always been, very fond of Roier

Cucurucho seemed happiest when it was with Roier

Cucurucho does not always represent the QSMP. Sometimes, it specifically says it represents the Federation. (Are these two different forces on the Island?)

The most we've ever learned about Cucurucho has been when it's spoken with Roier

Roier has told Cucurucho he loved it

Roier thinks Cucurucho is being controlled by the Island / the Federation and wanted to help free it

The Cucurucho we knew at the beginning of the series and the Cucurucho we know now act differently. Many believe this is because it was punished for its feelings for Roier, and its memory was altered.

When describing Cucurucho to Bobby, Roier (who seems to understand Cucurucho best) said this:

"I think Cucurucho is sad. It's just that, I remember I used to hang out with him a lot when I first came to this Island. I hung out with him a lot. He always came to see me and help me. But from one moment to the next, I realize that he had changed. He stopped being so kind to me, and in fact he gave me a book. He had been telling me for many days that he was going to stop bothering me, it seems like he was scolded, but he acts like nothing's wrong. He acts like everything is fine, but I feel like they are forcing him. He's sad. He doesn't show it, but he wrote me a sad face."

Let's break down the details day by day:

[UPDATED: June 4]

Day 1 - 3 - Establishing a bond

Since the beginning, Cucurucho had a very playful relationship with Roier. It enjoyed surprising / scaring Roier with its sudden appearance, and after a certain point, Roier began to expect Cucurucho's presence whenever he called it.

And sure enough, whenever Roier called it, Cucurucho came.

There's a lot of playful teasing between the two of them, and these first three days best exhibit Cucurucho's personality.

When Roier wanted to create a taco truck, he searched the Island for all the ingredients he needed, but had no luck finding tomatillo seeds. Cucurucho appears suddenly before him, and after whacking him on the head, it offers him... some tomato seeds.

Roier gets excited until he realizes what the seeds are, and when Cucurucho realizes its mistake, it digs itself a hole and jumps in. Cucurucho seems genuinely embarrassed by its mistake, and its the most expressive we've ever seen Cucurucho be.

What's interesting is that, even outside of its interactions with Roier, Cucurucho's mind always seems to circle back to him.

On Day 3, Cucurucho hangs out with Mariana for 10 minutes in a cave before giving him a book that says "Tell me everything you know about Roier." (Note: this is completely unprompted by anything)

Mariana, having absolutely zero sense of self-preservation, proceeds to tease Cucurucho about its crush on Roier so much it would put an entire class of Kindergarten children to shame.

Mariana: You like Roier, don't you? You like Roier man! You like him! Ohhhhhhhhh~!!! You like him!!!!

(He also asks Cucurucho if it wants Roier's number).

Cucurucho then shoots and kills Mariana (lmao) but eventually does revive him. It seems to get frustrated when Mariana doesn't give it any information it deems "helpful" and starts digging pits and running back and forth. When Mariana asks what kind of information Cucurucho wants, it says "classified" and refuses to elaborate.

Day 4 - Last day with "our" Cucurucho

This is the first time we get a hint that there are multiple Cucuruchos [Timestamp 3h 52m]. Cucurucho appears in Roier's basement, and is also at the top of the stairs when Roier goes up, then back downstairs when Roier goes down. Roier is, understandably, a little freaked out, but he shakes it off pretty quickly. Cucurucho is a bit playful with Roier, and just… hangs out with him for no apparent reason. Roier even asks Cucurucho "Are you having a good time here?" and Cucurucho nods. Roier seems happy at the response, saying "this is your house."

Roier gives him his first taco [Timestamp: 3h 56m], having made a deal with Cucurucho that he'd give it 10 tacos (and more) in exchange for one taco from Cucurucho. It hurts his feelings that Cucurucho doesn't have an enthusiastic reaction about the taco, and after he makes a huevo joke and Cucurucho shooting him then pretends like nothing happened, Roier feels really bad. Roier tells Cucurucho it can't treat him like this and pouts for a bit.

When he tries asking Cucurucho its name, it just responds with "no" and when Roier tries asking it why there are two of them, the upstairs one says "I don't know." Roier asks Cucurucho to let him go so he can get more materials to make more tacos, and Cucurucho tells him no.

While waiting for Cucurucho to finish writing him an answer via book, Roier gives Cucurucho back the amapola (poppy) it gave him earlier, pretending to spit at him because he's mad [Timestamp 3h 58m 50s]. Cucurucho hands him a book that says "Finish what I told you." They part ways with Roier (half-jokingly) saying, "You know what Osito Bimbo, you know what? I'm tired of you treating me badly. You and I are no longer friends," and dramatically logs out.

Day 5 - A Final Message

Roier logs in and immediately finds potted amopola (poppies) in his house. At the top of the stairs is another singular amapola, two tacos, and this book:

Translation: 0037. Through this I want to express my most sincere apologies for treating you as a slave. We are sorry for any discomfort I may have caused you. We hope you continue to enjoy the island at its best. You won't see me, but I will see you. Best regards, Federal QSMP Commission

There are a few things weird with this message, namely the fact that it's signed by the Federal QSMP Commission, and the use of "I" vs "We" in several places (though I chock that up to translation inconsistencies, so YMMV).

I briefly wondered what the significance of 0037 was before I remembered that was Roier's ticket number.

Why refer to him by a number instead of a name? Does this confirm that they're all part of an experiment?

Anyways, Roier says, "No! No!!! I want to keep seeing you Osito!" and responds to that message with this:

Translation: Hello my dear Osito Bimbo :) I like you, please keep showing up. And that's all, uwu

As far as I'm aware, none of the books from Osito Bimbo up until this point used smiley-faces, but after this, Cucurucho started using them in some of its books. Did it learn that from Roier?

(To give you a timeframe reference for where we are: this same day, Roier is later betrayed by Spreen and Quackity. In one fell swoop, Roier lost many of the people he cared about, and who cared about him, all in one day.)

Day 6

[Timestamp 2h 32m] Quackity says he doesn't want to give any spoilers, but he warns Fit, Vegetta, and Roier to be careful around Cucurucho.

Day 10 - Cucurucho is back, but isn't the same

[Timestamp: 2h 12m 30s] At the adoption center (where Mariana is trying to comfort JuanaFlippa, who says she wants a new family) Roier sees Osito Bimbo spying on them and chases after it, but it vanishes.

Later, while Roier is with Jaiden, he tells her there's more than one Cucurucho, then sees Cucurucho standing on top of one of the buildings near spawn / the wall. Roier tells Cucurucho, "Come here! I missed you!" Cucurucho doesn't come. For whatever reason, Jaiden can't see it. Roier says to Cucurucho, "Ok, well maybe later I can see you in my house. You are going to come, because I know you! I know you like the back of my hand" (Cucurucho shakes its head "no" at this)

[Timestamp 2h 59m] After Roier and Jaiden put Bobby to bed and Jaiden logs out, Roier does a few laps around the castle while talking to Chat. When he comes back a few minutes later, he finds the entry to Bobby's room blocked off and a sign in front of it that reads: "Don't touch your son."

Here's where things get interesting: for context, between this stream and the last time Roier streamed on the QSMP, Mariana and Slimecicle broke into Leonarda's house and misclicked the bed. Since then, a new rule was implemented on the server saying that if an Egg's bed breaks, they lose a life.

Was Cucurucho trying to warn Roier, and potentially save Bobby's life?

Anyways, Roier immediately breaks the blocks and runs upstairs to check on Bobby. He laughs, thinking Bobby is playing a prank on him, then realizes Bobby (and the admin) isn't logged in. He then asks, "Cucurucho?" out loud and starts looking around for it. Roier starts theorizing, saying no one can get through his door since he has a whitelist and only a few people can enter. He checks the house for any weakpoints that someone could sneak in through, but there are none, and he determines that Bobby is safe.

Roier mentions that Cucurucho isn't acting like its usual self. When they do finally meet again in the castle courtyard, Cucurucho keeps its distance from him.

Roier: Well, I'm here, is there anything you want to ask me? I've seen you around, watching me. Do you want to know something about me?

Cucurucho: Classified.

Roier: Are you holding a book? Why haven't you visited me? Tell me.

Cucurucho: Classified

Roier: Ouch, now you don't want to tell me anything. Do you not like me anymore?

Cucurucho: ...

Roier: Do you not like me anymore? I thought we… I thought we were buddies.

Cucurucho: Maybe. I don't know.

[ A short time later, Roier starts singing a song and doing a little dance for Cucurucho ]

Roier: – And that's how it went. Huh? Don't you remember? How come you don't remember? Those were good times, when we spent time together! How come you don't remember? Remember!!!!

Cucurucho: I don't know (It repeats this several times)

Roier: No you DO know! Come down. First of all, come down. Why are you talking to me from up there? Come down, don't be so rude.

Cucurucho: No. (Repeated several times)

Roier: Come on, why not? Come! Are you jealous?* *(He says "Ta celoso", celoso is jealous and oso is bear, so he's making a pun)

Cucurucho: Enjoy the Island. (Turns to leave)

Roier: I do enjoy it a lot, Osito! Osito!

Roier runs after Cucurucho and confronts it yet again. Cucurucho gives him a book that has his ticket number in it, then tries to leave again.

[Timestamp 3h 7m] Roier follows it, even digging to go underground with it to keep up, asking why it gave him a book with his train ticket number on it.

Roier: Stop playing a fool, where are you going? I won't stop following you

Cucurucho: [ Fires two warning shots on either side of Roier ]

Roier: What, are you going to kill me? Come on, kill me! Shoot me! Kill me! Murder me right here! Are you going to leave a child without a father? Are you going to leave Jaiden without a partner?

Cucurucho opts to run away, and Roier continues following it until it goes somewhere he can't (under lava) leaving him shouting, "You can't leave me like this!"

Day [ ? ]

I'm uncertain what day this happens, but someone pointed out this important conversation Roier has with Bobby around day 32. [CLIP]

Roier: Have you seen a white bear around?

Bobby: [ Wiggles to indicate "no" ]

Roier: You haven't seen him around… He's an old friend of mine, he's an old friend of mine. He could help us out with anything we need. I know I can count on him.

Day 32 - Love, Understanding, and Tenderness

[Timestamp 2h 39m] While they're in the castle, Bobby suddenly pulls out his gun and leads Roier outside. Roier asks what's wrong, then sees Cucurucho standing on the balcony above them.

[Timestamp 2h 41m] After messing around with his new stretchy tentacle gun that lets him Spider-man swing, he finally gets up to where Cucurucho is. Cucurucho greets him with a "Buenos Dias" then asks how Roier is doing. Roier says he's doing fine, then asks Cucurucho how it is and what its been doing.

Cucurucho: I was informed you were looking for me.

Roier: Yes, that's right. Where were you all that time? Why did you stop talking to me? Why did you leave my life?

Cucurucho: Classified

Roier: Cucurucho, Cucurucho, Osito Bimbo, why did you stop talking to me?

[ Cucurucho hands him a book that says, "Do you need anything?" ]

Roier: Yes. What I need is love, understanding, and tenderness.

[Bobby punches him off the tower]

Roier: Anyways, I was saying –

Cucurucho: Observation.

Roier: Observation? Let's see, but did you leave because you had to, or did you leave because they made you? What happened?

Cucurucho: ...

Roier: I already know what happened, I know what happened. It was Mariana, Mariana bothered you and told you, "YOU LIKE ROIER you like him, you like Roier!" Right? Was that it?

Cucurucho: [ Turns away and hangs its head ]

Roier: Hey, yes or no? Tell me. You got trapped--

Cucurucho: Hahaha

Roier: What?

Cucurucho: Hahaha

Roier: [Laughs] What is that laugh? You're laughing to make the moment less awkward, right? This is a defense mechanism. "Hahaha."

Cucurucho: ...

Roier: Well, if you don't want to answer, that's fine. You don't send me WhatsApp or anything. You don't love me. We are no longer friends. [He starts to hop away, then turns back to see Cucurucho's response]

[Cucurucho hands him a book that says, "On this island there are many things to do."]

Roier: For example, that?

[Roier moves to stand closer to Cucurucho, then Bobby knocks him off the tower again. Roier "Spider-man"s his way back up the tower, and he and Cucurucho are face to face again]

Cucurucho: Classified

Roier: What do you mean by that, what do you mean by that? Tell me! What is there to do here, what is there to do? Tell me.

Cucurucho hands him this book, which says: "We are preparing things for your enjoyment. Thank you very much for your patience."

Roier: Ok, but is that the reason you no longer speak with me? You're very busy?

Cucurucho: [Nods]

Roier is concerned about Cucurucho's voice and asks if it's still able to say yes or no, and Cucurucho proves it can still say that. Roier asks Cucurucho if it needs to go and it says yes. Roier says: "You could stay with us and eat taquitos" drink Jamaica water or horchata if you like that more," and starts offering Cucurucho more and more food. Bobby falls off the building and Roier has to leave and go revive him, and Cucurucho again asks if he needs anything and apologizes for the inconvenience, saying its busy.

Roier: As I was telling you before, what I need is love, understanding, and tenderness. Do you have that?

Cucurucho: Hahaha

Roier: Why are you laughing? That makes you laugh?

[Cucurucho hands him a book that says Las Casualonas is on the other side of the Island]

Roier: [Laughing] But it's not that, there is that but it's not love.* Besides, I work there! I am Las Casualonas! I mean I can't go there because I'm the one who gives love, I'm the one who gives love, I'm the one who gives love and tenderness, but who gives it to me? Who gives me love? Tell me, who gives me love?

*(The phrasing on this is a bit weird but in essence, that's what he said here)

[Bobby hits Roier again, wanting him to take them somewhere fun, and Cucurucho says, "Enjoy the Island" before leaving. Bad and Dapper have just arrived and are just hanging out, but follow Roier, who starts chasing Cucurucho, to watch the drama]

Roier: Osito, why are you leaving? Do you want to leave? If you want to leave, you can leave, if you don't love me anymore, it's ok. No it's ok, if you don't love me anymore, then leave. Leave.

[Roier momentarily glances back at Bad, who's just standing there just silently watching their private conversation while Dapper's taking photos like a weirdo]

Cucurucho hands him a book that says: "What are you talking about?" then starts fishing.

Roier: Don't be stupid, don't act like an idiot, if you don't love me anymore, you can go.

Cucurucho doesn't leave, continuing to fish until Bad gets closer, and it throws him the fishing pole then turns to leave.

Roier: (To Bad) Don't be such a gossip! (To Cucurucho) No no no! Well, if you want to go, go. I asked you to screw me, not fail me.*

*I have no idea how to translate this, it's slang so don't take it literally but I genuinely don't know how to translate that.

Cucurucho shoots Roier and leaves.

Day 34 - Who is the Host?

[Timestamp 3h 44m 30s] Roier talks to Bobby about Cucurucho, calling it his friend. He says he wants to talk to Cucurucho again and starts singing "Baby Come Back"

Roier does a "ritual" trying to get Cucurucho to visit, and it (miraculously) works. Rainbow Cucurucho appears, and acts stranger than usual (which is saying something, considering this is Cucurucho we're talking about). This is their exchange [I'll add a clip later]:

Cucurucho: Good morning. What are you doing? We're from the QSMP Federation. It was reported that you were looking for me

Roier: I missed you! I was looking for you. I have a question Cucurucho, lately, I have seen people saying I work for the Federation. People are saying that I work for you. Cucurucho, you and I know-

Cucurucho: Hahaha

Roier: Exactly! You laugh because you and I are only friends, right, we are friends. [Long pause] …Right?

Cucurucho: I don't know.

Roier: Nah, you know, you know. Cucurucho, I don't know what you are, but you… you love me. You can't deny that. You love me: yes or no?

Cucurucho: Hahaha.

Roier: Nahhh no no no, Cucurucho, do you love me: yes or no? Do you love me? Yes or no? Wait- don't go Cucurucho- !

Cucurucho: No.

Roier: No?

Cucurucho: ...

Roier: Ok, Cucurucho. I have a question for you- I have a question for you. Let's see. If you don't like me, why do you come when I call you? If I'm not to your liking, why do you come? Every time I call, you answer. Tell me.

Cucurucho: ...

Roier: Cucuruchito, because I've known you since we first got here, I know you. There will be people who arrived a few days ago-

Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: IT IS THE DUTY OF A GOOD HOST. IF THEY CALL ME, IT IS MY DUTY TO COME. ]

Roier: How is that the duty of a good Host? You are the Host? You are a Host? Host.... of a program show for children?

Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO DO RITUALS ]

Roier: Ok... then Cucurucho, Cucurucho, Cucurucho, then let's see- clarify something for me- [Cucurucho starts to build up and go away] Nononono don't go! Wait wait wait. What do you mean you are a Host? Are you a Host? By "Host" do you mean the presenter of a program? Or do you mean that you are the Host of the Island?

Cucurucho: ...

Roier: Cucurucho? I thought we were friends. I don't know. So you just come because I call you? Because- because you are a good host?

Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: YOU WERE INVITED TO THE ISLAND. THAT'S RIGHT, A HOST. ]

Roier: But Cucurucho, wait- wait wait wait- I mean, you say you are nothing but an asset? In other words, you are just active, because you don’t want to look bad to me? That’s why?

Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: WE COME WHEN YOU NEED SOMETHING. TO THE GUESTS, I GIVE WHAT THEY DESERVE. ]

Roier: ...Ok. It's fine. It's fine, Cucurucho. It's fine. Ok, but but you told me you were the Host. Are you the host?

Cucurucho: Hahaha.

Roier: Ok Cucurucho. I won't bother you anymore. I just wanted to see you again, but now it's clear to me... that you don't like* me. You never liked me. You come because you don't want to look bad in front of me because you want to be a good Host -- or do you want to make the Host look good?

* Roier uses the word "querer" here which is more sentimental than just "like"

Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: WANT IS A TERM I DON'T KNOW ]

Roier: So… they force you? They force you? Are you being forced?

Cucurucho: Enjoy the Island. [Runs away]

Roier: [Runs after it ] Are they forcing you to come here?! Cucurucho, answer me! I love you! I appreciate you! Are they forcing you to do this? Do they force you to come? ...Are you a real person? Are you a person disguised as a bear?

Cucurucho: ...

Roier: Cucurucho?

Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: YOU ARE THE ONE WHO FORCES ME TO COME. IF YOU NEED SOMETHING, IT IS MY DUTY. NOTHING ELSE. DO YOU NEED SOMETHING? ]

Roier: So when I need something from you, you'll come? Nothing more? Every time I need something, you come?

Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: THOSE ARE THE INSTRUCTIONS OF THE HOST. THAT'S HOW IT IS. ]

Roier: Cucurucho, the truth is, I don't want to lie to you. I've been very sad. I think I want to leave the island. I feel very sad Cucurucho.

[Bobby punches Roier, and Roier shakes his head and holds a finger up to his lips, telling Bobby to be quiet]

Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: WHAT IS MISSING ON THIS ISLAND THAT YOU NEED TO BE HAPPY? ]

Roier: I'm missing... I... need more friends.

Cucurucho: [Gestures at Badboyhalo and Dapper, who have been lurking trying to listen in on their conversation]

Roier: Them? Them as friends? But I don't like him, he smells like avocado. [Bad punches him] I want friends who don't smell like avocado, and who don't write so much!

Cucurucho: [Gives Roier a cockroach and tells him to enjoy the Island, then turns to leave]

Roier: Ok, ok, thank you. [Roier chases after Cucurucho] You have a nice day too! Nobody forces you to do what you don't want to do! You're free! Goodbye Osito Bimbo. [Osito Bimbo pauses as Roier is attacked by a zombie mob, hesitating until it sees he's ok] Goodbye!

[Timestamp 3h 55m] Despite their farewells, Roier decides to follow Cucurucho more anyways to see where it goes.

[Timestamp 3h 57m 45s] Afterward, Roier and Bobby go home, and Roier tells Bobby (in a low voice to avoid anyone overhearing), "I think Cucurucho is sad. It's just that, I remember I used to hang out with him a lot when I first came to this Island. I hung out with him a lot. He always came to see me and help me. But from one moment to the next, I realize that he had changed. He stopped being so kind to me, and in fact he gave me a book. He had been telling me for many days that he was going to stop bothering me, it seems like he was scolded, but he acts like nothing's wrong. He acts like everything is fine, but I feel like they are forcing him. He's sad. He doesn't show it, but he wrote me a sad face."

Day 36 - The Federation takes Felps

[Timestamp 1h 16m] Cucurucho arrives at Roier's castle with half the server (all rainbow) in tow. Roier asks how Cucurucho is doing, and Cellbit confronts Cucurucho about the chainsaw incident, which Cucurucho denies happened. Roier intervenes, telling people not to fight. Maximus pulls Roier aside, telling him something strange is happening with Felps because he's acting like he's "Cucurucho's best friend", and Maximus wonders if he's being brainwashed.

Cucurucho spends this entire time giving people gifts acting harmless, until Cellbit intervenes again.

Cellbit: Roier, Roier, don't trust Cucurucho, he's a liar.

Roier: Why?

Cucurucho: Why?

Cellbit: Don't believe him. He tortured me with a chainsaw.

Roier: He tortured you? Ah, you did tell me. Cucurucho, is that true?

Cucurucho: [shakes its head] No

Cellbit: He's lying, he's lying! Guapito, believe me, believe me.

Roier: Ok, I believe you, gatinho, I believe you gatinho. [He repeats "I believe you" over and over]

Cellbit: Be careful around him, ok? He's a manipulator, a liar. Do not believe his lies!

[As Cellbit says this, Cucurucho hangs its head]

Roier: I knew him from a long time ago. And he was not always like that. He was good before. But I don't know. What happened to you?

[Timestamp 1h 57m] Felps is taken by the Federation, and Cellbit, Maximus, and Roier confront Cucurucho, who laughs and says "I hope you enjoy the Island," offering them no answers.

[Timestamp 2h 8m 40s] Cellbit takes Roier and the other boys to the Theory Bros room, where they discuss the events from today and theories about Cucurucho]

Roier: Let me explain one thing. Cucurucho was very good to me. But then one day, he was very strange, you know? He was like… doing strange things, I don't know how to explain. But he was very good at the beginning, but then— he was like the Host.

Cellbit: Maybe at first he was really worried about making a good impression, and after that he started to let his guard down, and you caught him red-handed doing something weird.

Roier: Maybe the Host changed Cucurucho. I dunno, that's a theory.

Day 37

The longer Roier hung out with Cellbit and the Theory Bros, the more his opinion of Cucurucho soured.

[Timestamp 3h 16m] After a chat with Richarlyson about his art skills, he asks him to draw Cucurucho, and they draw what they think it looks like together.

[Timestamp 3h 26m] They show off their finished artwork to Cellbit, and both he and Roier call it "The true face of Cucurucho." Roier's art is on the bottom, Richarlyson's is the one on top.

Roier: This person, this one here, is the true Cucurucho. The devil.

Cellbit: A demon of the apocalypse.

Day 41 - Reviving Bobby

[Timestamp: 17m] Cucurucho visits Roier and Jaiden a few days after Bobby's death. It tells him to gather his friends to try and rescue Bobby, and gives him this book:

[See it from Jaiden's POV]

Roier: I didn't lie to you. I told you I have new friends, I told you, and now they're all here.

Cucurucho: If you want to see [Bobby] again, there's a price to pay.

But they don't get Bobby back.

Cucurucho: I told you. Everything has a price.

Roier: Was that the price? All those deaths?

Cucurucho: Yes :) […] There is a high price to pay when it comes to life and death. 10 minutes is the best I could get you.

In reality, they wound up getting 25. Realistically, this was probably just the admins feeling bad for Roier and Jaiden because frick dude, that was depressing, but if we want to give an in-universe explanation for it, Cucurucho might've given them more time.

Even so, Roier still vows he'll hold a trial against the Federation to try and get Bobby back.

Day 47 - A series of unfortunate events

I'm gonna TLDR this because so much happened on this day I'd recommend just watching the VOD, but essentially: Jaiden makes a deal with Cucurucho in the hopes that in return, they'll get something that will help protect the Eggs forever. Roier, distrustful of Cucurucho, stays close to keep an eye on things, and he has some back and forth interactions with Cucurucho that are reminiscent of their early day interactions, but are layered with sadness and mistrust.

Miscellaneous

Alright this post is getting long enough as it is, but let's run through some other oddities:

When Cellbit was trying to join the Federation, Cucurucho gave him a task that was specifically about Roier, asking him what he needs to be happy, why he's sad, and what would make him smile. Perhaps it's understandable that Cucurucho would be interested in one of the most depressed members of the Island, because the whole point of the Island is to make people happy, but considering their past friendship / relationship, detail of Cucurucho singling out Roier is something worth noting (particularly since it knows Cellbit is also close to Roier). Also idk, something about the way it's phrased as, "What would make him smile?" makes my heart ache

Cucurucho's task and Cellbit's answers:

Other things of interest other people have brought up:

Roier (used to) keep all the books Cucurucho gave him in a chest

I should also note here that Cucurucho has always been kind to Jaiden as well. Despite terrifying her that first day, it also gave her a blue parrot. While Jaiden has always been cautious of Cucurucho, she's always been polite as well. When everyone went to save Bobby, she stopped to say thank you to Cucurucho (presumably thanking it for giving them the chance to save Bobby).

There's a lot I could say about Jaiden's interactions with Cucurucho, but if I did this post would be twice as long, so I'll have to save that for another day I'm afraid :'D

If there's anything I missed, please send it to me so I can add it here, or add it in the reblogs!

UPDATE: This thread compiles even more moments between Cucurucho and Roier and includes translated clips

#QSMP #Roier #Cucurucho #Bimboier #Osito Bimbo #The Federation #QSMP talk #I talk #Y'ALL BETTER APPRECIATE THIS I MISSED A QUACKITY STREAM WRITING THIS #I spent wayyyyy to long doing research for this wtf #I wish I hadn't timed myself #qsmp analysis

627 notes · View notes

loaksky · 1 year

Text

— 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴

the deets — you are a warrior of very few words, yet oftentimes your gaze betrays you. this widens the rift between you and the eldest sully, but will seeking refuge with the metkayina soothe the burn? especially when the alleviation comes in the form of a certain ocean boy?

the who — ao’nung x fem tipani!reader, a lil neteyam x fem!tipani reader

the word count — 7.1k (i thought this was gonna be longer, regardless i have zero self control)

the tags — slight e2l (you and ao’nung get off on the wrong foot), unofficial love triangle (reader has two people hooked lmao), angst (wouldn’t be me without a little heartache), fluff.

the warnings — language, ao’nung’s a cheeky lil shit, neteyam’s in denial and makes things difficult. ao'nung gives reader a lil kith.

the notes — this is my first request! it took me a moment to finish this because i wanted to really research the tipani to characterize reader the best i could. similarly, i feel like we don’t see much of ao’nung past the point of him being a little shit in the movie, so i had to take some creative liberties regarding his character. thank you so much to the anon who requested! this is so long, holy shit, but i hope i did it justice! :)

(also not proofread well, my bad lmaooo).

masterlist

YOU WERE BORN TO FIGHT. That was what your mother and father had told you day in and day out, from the rise of the sun, to the last eclipse. It was what they had told you when you began your training, when you had started to deepen your studies, and finally, when they clung to their final breaths in the smog of the burning jungle.

Your village was scarce, a dying lot, as families broke off and settled farther into the jungle, high above the forest floors and into the canopies of the looming trees.

Jake had heard about you, heard about your dwindling family, your mighty spirit. You were barely older than his eldest, just shy of ten when he’d taken you in, told the clan to revere you as their own. You were tough to crack, stoic, quiet, as you grew into a force to be reckoned with.

The only thing that chipped your facade came in the form of Jake Sully’s oldest son.

Neteyam, you’d come to realize, was always the diligent one; courageous, firm, and commanded any space he occupied. But he was curious about you. Curious about the lone wolf who wouldn’t even bat an eye in his direction. He poked and prodded, tried as he might, to crack a smile out of you in the first year or two, but found that you gave little reaction. The slightest tilt of the corner of your lips, the most infinitesimal furrow between your brow bones. It was triumph enough, but then things started to shift.

Though you’d softened around the Sully’s, especially Kiri who, despite being two years your junior, had doted on you like an older sister, Jake had seen potential in you and Neteyam as the fiercest duo.

It was only normal to consistently pair you two during your training, forcing the hands of time to twine you closer together as your iknimaya drew nearer. You’d both succeeded with flying colors and it was the first time Neteyam had touched you, crushing you in a hug so tight, you felt the breath and the sense leave your body.

You begrudgingly admit that from that moment on, you were wrapped around his finger.

Your heart would swell dangerously behind your ribcage every time his hand would come up to pat your head affectionately, stomach twisting in on itself when he’d flash you a pearly smile after each successful hunt. Neteyam made you feel, and it thrilled and horrified you all the same.

But despite basking in the warmth of his company, of being intertwined so intricately, you still feel grossly misplaced.

The thought of letting him in on the fact that he’s swayed your heart leaves a horrid taste in your mouth.

“It’s not like you to back down,” Kiri tells you as she helps you roll beaded tops and woven loincloths into the small satchel you’d designated for the flight to Awa’atlu.

The humans were closing in and Jake was growing desperate.

You stop, tongue in cheek as you settle back on your haunches.

“Some things are better left unsaid,” you reply, hands clasping in your lap as you level Kiri with a soft gaze through your thick lashes.

“Perhaps,” Kiri hums. “But will it settle well with you in the future when you think about your inaction?”

You stiffen a fraction, knowing that Kiri’s insinuation is a heavy one.

Will you be able to live without him knowing? Will it settle well when Neteyam courts another?

You doubt it will, but pride can be an ugly thing. You’d been taught by your parents, by your surroundings that reading into things farther than you must will only leave you scathed. You’re afraid to piece every lingering touch, every furtive glance, every sweet smile into something that paints an unwanted picture.

“The worst he could say is no,” Kiri presses. “You are his equal, his dearest friend. You could never ruin that.”

Kiri squashes every doubt you have with her encouraging words, so you take the plunge.

Neteyam is almost finished preparing for the journey when you poke your head into his tent, cheeks warm and blood pulsing erratically in your veins.

“One last walk through the forest?” you offer.

Neteyam grins from ear to ear, excusing himself before ducking out of the tent to meet you outside.

“Lead the way,” he gestures, voice deep like the velvet of the night sky.

You’re clammy as you walk a few paces in front of him, tongue tied and wracked with nerves as the forest comes alive so brightly around you. The bugs chirp and croak as you cross over fallen logs and climb through the dense flora.

You’re so deep in your head that you barely register Neteyam calling your name. It’s only when his hand clasps around your wrist that you jerk to a stop, neck craning to take in the concern that mars his freckled face.

“Everything okay?” he asks, head tilting to get a better look at you.

“I need to tell you something,” you blurt, swallowing down the courage threatening to escape your body.

“Of course,” he says, hand lacing with yours. “You can tell me anything.”

A breath catches in your throat before you finally spill.

“I don’t know what our future holds, but…” you trail off, distracted with how intensely he gazes down at you.

“But?”

“But I know that I want you in it,” you say, blinking when you realize that’s not at all how you wanted that to come out.

Neteyam’s head tilts again, this time confusion crosses his features.

You try again.

“What I mean to say is, I— well… I like you,” you admit, looking up to meet his golden gaze.

His face softens and your heart picks up speed.

“Oh, ________,” he whispers.

“Maybe I’ve always felt like this, I don’t know,” you continue, steeling your resolve. “But being around you, being with you, makes me feel light. Like I don’t have to bear the weight of the burden all on my own.”

You realize that this is beginning to go south when his mouth purses and instead of seeing you, he begins to look like he pities you.

“I’m sorry,” is all he says as he pulls his hand from your own. “We’re friends, ________.”

You look up at him and it feels like the forest has stilled enough for someone to strike it and shatter the peace.

“That’s all,” he reiterates. “I’m— I’m flattered, don’t misunderstand. You’re great, lovely, but…I don’t see you in that way.”

You recoil like you’ve been burned and Neteyam looks guilty.

“But…”

“C’mon,” he says, almost pleadingly. “We grew up together. You’re apart of my family. You’re like a si—“

“Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t say it please.”

Neteyam sighs, deflating.

“I love you, you know that,” he urges. “But not in that way.”

Your lips press together tightly, shame filling every available space within you as you feel like the most minuscule speck underneath his burning eyes.

It’s like you’re both rooted to the earth, unable to part from the other, but you eventually fold first, backing away from his towering stance.

“________,” he sighs, like you’re just another task he has to deal with.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “I’m sorry.”

And you steal off into the glowing forest.

The waters of Awa’atlu glitter as you close in on the reefs. You lag behind the Sully’s, thoroughly taken by the prior night’s rejection.

You almost miss the tilt of the voyage, falling even further behind.

Neteyam peers over his shoulder, immediately noting your lack of focus as you fly with a wide berth between you and his family.

He falls back.

“You okay?” he asks over the flapping of wings.

He notices the puffs underneath your eyes when your gaze flits to him, but like a wall erecting itself, your face goes blank. You lean forward on your ikran and press her to move forward.

Neteyam is left at the rear now, watching you fall in tandem with Kiri who seems to light up at your first display of emotion.

The sun gleams againstglinting blue tides as silence blankets the newcomers, the only thing piercing the stillness is the squawk of the birds and the ripple of the waves.

You stand behind Kiri, staggered in a shallow of sand among the Sully's. You're the smallest of them all, hidden from view as the Metkayina begin murmuring.

“What a freak.”

Something tugs hard on your tail, and like muscle memory, your fist is flying. Your knuckles are caught before they strike and you look up into the foamy eyes of a towering boy whose skin is a gentle blue.

You pull your tail back, ears flat as you level him with a nasty glare.

The smirk playing at his lips disintegrates as Jake’s voice announces that his family are seeking refuge among the reefs.

You turn your attention back to the front as the woman, fierce despite being with child, takes Lo’ak’s hand and thrusts it towards the sky, announcing that his extra finger denotes demon blood.

The villagers gasp and you take a step forward, fists balled so tight you feel like they could burst through the skin. Lo’ak’s head is bowed, refusing to meet the intensity of the clan’s prying eyes, and you feel helpless.

Kiri squeezes your shoulder as Jake attempts to quell the crowd by hold up his own hands.

The murmuring intensifies as the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik stand at a distance, staring at each other in a silent exchange.

“Show them our ways,” the Olo’eyktan says after a final verdict. “So that they may not suffer the shame of being useless.”

Your body is rigid, tense as another ripple of speculation flutters through the crowd.

“My children will spearhead this by showing them the way of the water,” he says.

A deep voice makes a noise of protest behind you and your fist tightens around the strap of the satchel slung across your body, temper beginning to tick like a bomb ready to detonate.

The daughter of the leaders, Tsireya, is the one to show you to the marui that you’ll all occupy. It’s an empty one, uninhabited and clear of any belongings.

Tuk runs in, tossing her things to the wayside as she begins her inspection.

“Get settled in well, we will begin our first lesson before eclipse,” Tsireya smiles, then turns to you, trailing behind the Sully’s like their shadow per usual.

“I’m sorry about Ao’nung,” she says quietly, and you look up at the girl whose dimples dent her rounded cheeks.

“An apology means nothing if doesn’t come from the aggressor,” you say flatly, hiking up the roll of fabric tucked underneath your arm.

Tsireya’s ears flatten, her smile faltering as she nods her head.

“I suppose you’re correct,” she agrees. “The villagers are very steadfast in their ways. When change arrives, they are hesitant, but they’ll come around, promise.”

She takes your hand and gives your fingers a squeeze.

“Tell your friends not to be late,” she coos, pulling away from you to bound down the path you’d all come from moments before.

When you turn, Neteyam stands before you, skin dewy under the unrelenting heat of the pounding sun.

“Can I get this for you?” he asks, reaching for the items tucked under your arms.

You ease away, almost as skittish as the first nights you’d joined the Sully’s all those years ago. You feel shamefully like you’re back to square one as you shake your head wordlessly and Neteyam looks down at you with an indiscernible look on his face.

“________,” he murmurs, and you name sounds like a broken plea on his lips.

You push past him, taking a quick survey of your surroundings as you claim the level up, hammock tightened around two support posts under a woven canopy.

Your things are thrown haphazardly underneath the hammock and with your satchel, you’re steering quickly out of the marui.

“Hey, kid, where you running off to?” Jake calls out.

“Out,” is all you reply, steps quick down the unfamiliar webbing of the maruis’ woven walkways.

You’re on edge all over again, like you have to restart all of your valiant efforts to feel any semblance of comfort among another new clan. When you’d joined the Omatikaya, you were able to grasp onto the slivers of belonging through blending into the background, but now, as you pass villagers with skin as glittering and blue as the ocean, tails strong, and figures built, you feel so grossly misplaced.

You search for less, eyes falling near a swathe of shady trees and a shallow pool in the distance.

Your pursuit is futile as three looming figures emerge and begin surrounding you, basking you in their shadows.

“Are you a five-fingered freak like them?” One of them tries to swoop to grab your hand, but you recoil like their touch is acidic.

“Leave me alone,” you grumble, attempting to push past them.

Someone tugs sharply on your tail and you jerk back, hands and knees burrowing into the sharp grains of sand. A hand comes up to grab you by the top of your head, forcing your face skywards.

His curly hair is braided out of his face, the purse of his lips menacing.

“I asked you a question, weirdo.”

You hiss and his face contorts.

“I should—“

“Wune,” the voice is a warning.

A grunt of annoyance.

Wune lets go of your hair and pulls away from you. You all look in the direction of the voice, and your blood seems to curdle when you see the one who’d yanked your tail earlier in the day.

Ao’nung.

His chin jerks in the other direction and the three pass each other a knowing glance before retreating, leaving you to fall into a seated position against the sand.

You surprise yourself when tears begin to well in your eyes involuntarily.

“You okay?” Ao’nung asks hesitantly, crouching in front of you.

“Piss off,” you whisper, climbing to your feet as you quickly brush the tears from your waterline.

“Wait—“

“I said piss off,” you hiss, stalking away.

Awa’atlu is beautiful right before eclipse, sky bathed in orange and purples.

You’ve rejoined the Sully’s after your encounter with the three Metkayina boys and Ao’nung. Now you’re seated with the four siblings, Tsireya, and another friendly face that you’ve been introduced to as Rotxo.

“The way of water has no beginning and no end,” Tsireya says. “Our hearts beat in the womb of the world.”

Your heart beats fast now, like you’ve just run from one end of the forest to another. It beats erratically under Neteyam’s unrelenting gaze. He looks like he’s dissecting you, trying to pry into your mind and you hate that things have come to this.

You hate that one evening has shattered the careful friendship that you and Neteyam have built over the course of many tumultuous years. You want to find comfort in his presence, know with your soul that he’d tuck your hair behind your ear and tell you that things would be alright. But now you feel like you two are distant strangers.

“The sea is your home, before your birth and after your death.”

You want to argue that you know no home, that the wind seems to carry you where it may, but you bite your tongue and you zone out of her lecture.

You only tune back in when the hairs on the back of your neck stand at the arrival of a new body.

“Mother and father say that it’s time to prepare for the evening meal.”

After hearing the voice twice in the day, you recognize the timbre.

Ao’nung stands tall, chest broad and eyes bright.

They settle on you in an instant, and you feel indescribably smaller as Tsireya announces that she will continue during the morning’s eclipse.

Everyone begins to stand, brushing the residual sand from their skin as they begin to file away.

You’re startled to a stop when your name comes from Neteyam’s lips and a gentle hand latches onto your forearm.

You look down to see strong fingers lighter than your own holding onto you. Then your gaze flits to Neteyam who stands a few feet away, words dying on his tongue.

Ao’nung tugs lightly and you look up to meet softened eyes.

“Can I borrow you for a moment?” he asks. He notices the apprehensive look on your face as you peel away from him, then adds, “I’ll be quick.”

Neteyam opens his mouth to protest on your behalf, but you flash him a pensive look and he stops in his tracks, watching as you turn your slender back towards him and follow the lumbering Metkayina.

When the two of you are alone, you dig your toe into the sand, hands clasped behind your back as you wait for Ao’nung to break the silence and get on with it.

“I want to apologize,” he finally says, when you’re out of earshot of the village and the curious Sully’s who’d noted the entire exchange.

You look up at him, brow bone raised.

“For?”

“For being mean,” he says, “I was inappropriate.”

“Is this your sister talking?” you ask crudely, but he doesn’t flinch at the venom in your tone.

Instead, he smiles down at you.

“No,” he assures you. “One hundred percent me, promise.”

You look down at your feet, still fidgeting with the sand.

“I guess…” you trail off.

“You guess?” he prods.

“I guess we’re okay,” you say hesitantly.

Ao’nung hums.

“Good,” he concedes. “Great. I’m glad.”

You flash him a bored look through thick lashes and his lips twitch as he stares down at you with piercing eyes.

“I can be dumb,” he says, grin widening. “My family says I don’t know how to act around nice things.”

Your cheeks warm as you avoid his eyes, breaking away to catch up with Kiri and Tuk.

After dinner, in the quiet of the Sully’s marui, you lie in the hammock you claimed earlier in the day, hands folded underneath your head as you gaze at the stars.

“My dad came from a star,” Lo’ak had said to you one night, eliciting the smallest of smiles.

As you comb through each one, you burn to be up there. A digging desire to only know about shining bright and being wished so hard upon.

There are nights like these where everything feels heavy, where your shoulders sag underneath the pressure of being a great warrior. You wonder what life could be like had the RDA spared your village, had you not gone off into the forest to hunt, had you—

He’s a barely perceptible shadow under the glow of the moon and ocean, slinking down the woven path between pods.

Like a whisper of wind, you climb out of your hammock and over sleeping bodies.

As you slip out of the marui, you don’t notice the pair of sleepy eyes on your retreating figure.

Before he even knows what’s going on, you’re scurrying over the thick branches, following his path until he hits the intersection right before the Sully’s quarters.

You jump down and intersect Ao’nung, hand coming over his mouth before he can shout in shock. His eyes are wide as you stand on your tip toes, other hand coming to your lips to gesture for him to be quiet.

“What are you doing?” you hiss quietly.

His fingers come to your wrist, nudging your palm from his mouth to reveal a beaming smile.

“I was coming for you,” he admits.

“Why?” you press, shaking his hold away when you realize that he’d still been grasping your wrist.

“Have you ridden an ilu before?” he asks.

You shift uncomfortably.

“No,” you answer shortly.

“You wanna?” he offers.

“No.”

He frowns.

“Swimming?”

“Pass.”

“I have fruits,” he singsongs.

“Ao’nung,” you warn.

“Is it so wrong to want to spend time with you?” he asks, hands up in defense.

“Why would you want to?” you ask accusingly. “Your village sees us as demons and I’m included in that whether it applies to me or not. I’ll stay out of your way, just leave me alone.”

“I don’t think you’re a demon,” Ao’nung says gently. “If anything, I- I think you’re great.”

“You don’t know me,” you spit.

“I know enough,” Ao’nung says with finality. “I know that you are strong and your spirit is kind. Ewya has let me feel as such.”

Your expression is lethal, but Ao’nung doesn’t back down.

“One night,” he says quietly. “Spend one night with me.”

The following silence stretches eternally before something magnetic pulls you towards Ao’nung’s honeyed gaze. You chance a glance over your shoulder, met with stillness and the minute laps of the ocean on the shore.

When you meet his eyes again, you nod once, hesitantly, and he’s taking your hand to tug you into the glowy night.

Ao’nung returns you before the sun rises, a few early risers giving you two curious glances as he walks you to where you’d ambushed him the night before.

You wave to him hesitantly, sighing in relief when you you creep back into the marui and find everyone fast asleep, splayed over one another like a big heap.

You climb over limbs and snoring bodies, finally settling in your hammock to watch the beginnings of the eclipsing sun brighten the village.

You don’t notice the same bleary eyes watching you from where he’s laid on the floor, Lo’ak’s head weighing on his stomach and Tuk smushed onto his armpit.

They’re the same eyes that watch you all morning, as his family gets up one by one, stretching their lithe limbs and tidying up before being called for the day’s first meal.

Neteyam is watchful, stealing glances as you file behind his family from the pod to the clan circle, now buzzing with hungry villagers as the sun shines high in the sky.

But he doesn’t say a word, silent as you choose the seat farthest from him. Quiet as you blink your eyes sleepily, barely registering Tuk’s excited blabbering about all of the new things she can make with the shells and supplies here.

“Give it a rest,” Lo’ak grumbles from beside him.

He snaps out of his reverie, eyes narrowing in on his brother.

“What?”

“You’ve been watching ________ all morning,” Lo’ak chides. “She’s locked up tight, bro. No way you’re getting her.”

Neteyam’s blood curdles at the thought, wanting to tell his brother to shove it. But you’d shut him out the past few days, the sting of his rejection obviously driving a wedge between the two of you.

“Shut up,” he grumbles.

He hates that you’d gone from being inseparable to being strangers overnight. But what he hates even more is the way Ao’nung drops onto the log next to you and you don’t even flinch, just pass him a bored gaze that makes him beam.

He watches you closely, eyes glued to your every move.

Something ugly roils inside of him as Ao’nung offers you a braided bag and you hesitantly take a piece of dried meat from him, face morphing as you give him a nod of approval.

Ao’nung looks proud of of himself as he balances the bag next to him on the log and leans towards you almost imperceptibly. Neteyam expects you to put distance between the two of you, but you barely bat an eye, watching intently as Ao’nung talks animatedly.

Lo’ak scoffs beside him and Neteyam stomach turns.

Hours bleed into days, days bleed into weeks, and for once, you feel like things could be alright. The breathing gets easier, the learning comes faster, and something feels peaceful being near the ocean.

The only thing that hadn’t been amended was the gaping hole that separated you from Neteyam, but in the company of a certain Olo’eyktan’s only son, you don’t feel the burn as much.

You watch him now, as he treads water with Rotxo and the two Sully boys, walking them through the procedure of hunting under water and how to maximize their kills.

“…and the reefs underwater…”

He’s one and the same with the tides, mighty and commanding as his veined hands gesture confidently. One moment, he’s focused on his instruction intently, the next he’s glancing at you.

You feel hot in the warm waters as your cheeks flame under a genuine smile. Neteyam follows his line of sight, body tensing in the water when he sees the shy look on your face.

He’s not the only one who notices as Kiri feigns a gag and Tsireya pauses her spiel to giggle at the obvious exchange.

“Oh, ________,” she whispers giddily.

Your eyes swing to the group of girls surrounding you as Tuk lets out a gleeful laugh and pinches you under the water.

“Ouch!”

“________ has a crush,” Tuk singsongs obnoxiously.

You knuckle her forehead and give her a warning glare than only sends her into a frenzy, laughing and splashing as she seeks protection from Kiri.

“Stop that!” you whisper fiercely.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft,” Kiri moans.

“No!” you say, a little too quickly. “No.”

No one in your circle looks convinced as Tsireya closes her lesson and leads the three of you to wade out of the waters.

“It’s okay, you know?” Kiri says once you’ve reached your belongings and sling your trusty satchel over your front.

You give her an inquisitive look and she throws her head back and laughs.

“I know you sneak out to meet with Ao’nung at night,” she admits quietly. “I love my stupid brother, but it’s okay to move on.”

You blanche, embarrassed at having been caught.

After the first night, when he’d taken you for a swim with his ilu and you’d gasped in both fear and delight as the creature cut through the waters to sail through the air, he had started to frequently come back for you in the wee hours after eclipse. It had turned from you clocking him as he approached the Sully’s pod, to you standing off the side of the path he usually crossed, waiting for him.

The first night you’d done that, his smile was so sweet, you felt something fluttering in your tummy.

Among one of those late night excursions, while you both were splayed on the beach after a particularly adventurous swim, Ao’nung had told you he wouldn’t mind showing you all the beautiful things Awa’atlu had to offer, you just had to say the words. And you had reluctantly agreed, heart locked away tight.

You hate to admit that he’s done well chiseling away every effort you’d made to remain snug behind your walls. He had coaxed you out with soft words, sweet fruits, meaningful talks. And you absolutely melted like putty in his hands.

“We are head and heart,” Kiri says gently. “Sometimes it’s okay to listen to your heart.”

You swallow under Kiri’s sympathetic gaze.

“You’ve been strong for a long time, ________,” she states simply. “Your feelings are not a weakness.”

You nod as she rejoins Tuk and Tsireya a few strides away.

A few moments later, a voice is warm in the shell of your sensitive ears.

“What adventure awaits after eclipse?” Ao’nung asks lightly.

You resist smiling up at him, but fail miserably when his webbed fingers come up to move hair from your face.

“I have seeds of a spartan fruit,” you say quietly. “If you know of anywhere to plant them.”

“I can make something work,” he assures you, thumb brushing your cheek, then pinching gently with a toothy smile. “Our usual place?”

You bow your head, cheeks hot.

“Of course.”

“Alright, little leaf,” he bids, that stupid nickname he’d called you one of the first nights, sticking. “See you then.”

He’s walking back in the direction of the other boys, cutting across the sand as they venture towards the heart of the clan’s village.

As you pick up the remainder of your items, you don’t realize a body has stayed behind.

“Little leaf?” It comes out as a scoff, mocking as your whirl on your heel and find Neteyam standing over you. “What’s your deal with him?”

You blink hard.

“What are you talking about?”

“You an Ao’nung,” Neteyam bites, temper short. “What’s going on between you two?”

Annoyance pinches the back of your brain as you look off into the roll of the shallow tides, then turn your attention back to the eldest Sully. For the first time in an infinite amount of moments, you don’t feel like falling into him.

“He’s my friend,” you decide to say, sucking in a deep breath in hopes of calming your racing nerves. “Is that alright with you?”

Neteyam’s glare doesn’t falter.

“Just your friend?” he accuses. “I know you meet with him after eclipse, don’t think you have anyone fooled. Why?”

“What do you mean why?” you counter, unable to keep the edge from your tone.

“Why are you sneaking around with someone you barely know after dark, ________?” he grills. “Don’t be dense.”

“Ao’nung is kind to me,” you argue. “He shows me about his life, about the villagers and the way of the water.”

“And what, I’m not kind to you?” Neteyam bristles. “Tsireya can’t show you all of those things?”

Your face scrunches in annoyance.

“You’re being unreasonable, Neteyam,” you scoff.

“I’m being unreasonable?” he asks in disbelief. “Ao’nung is just like the rest of the village, ________. You really thinking that in front of everyone else, he doesn’t shun us all the same?”

“No, Neteyam, I don’t,” you retort. “Because Ao’nung is nice. He goes to great lengths to make me feel welcome, like Awa’atlu is home.”

“So he puts on a show and you’re so willing to be with him, huh?” Neteyam seethes quietly. “We’re your home, ________. Ao’nung is earning brownie points with his parents having you hooked, but do you really think he sees you?”

You swallow, biting the inside of your cheek as you stare up at Neteyam in resignation.

“You can be so callous sometimes,” you whisper, turning to leave the conversation.

“I’m not done talking to you,” Neteyam sighs.

“Well, I am.”

You never make it back to the marui that night, still embarrassed that two of Sully’s had noticed that you were ditching your hammock as soon as the village turned in for the evenings. Instead, you wander around the beaches, collecting shells and little trinkets for morning handicrafts with Tuk.

After the island glows both from the luminescence of the habitat and the moon, you stand post, waiting for the familiar pad of Ao’nung’s feet over the sand. You watch the stars up above to distract you, fingers twitching as you recall your argument with Neteyam earlier in the day.

You know he was looking for chords to strike, but something akin to insecurity begins to root itself inside of you as the stars begin shifting further and further, indicating that a wide span of time has elapsed. The village is still, but your mind is racing as Ao’nung’s whereabouts remain a mystery.

Regardless you wait. You wait so long, you’d resorted to planting yourself in the sand, and after what felt like infinity, the morning eclipse begins. When the village starts to turn over for the day, curtains and drapery being pulled back to reveal slowly waking families, you finally stand, heart in your hands.

When you return to your pod, Neteyam is already up, posted on the edge of the walkway with his toes in the water.

He’s shooting up when he sees you.

“Where have you been?” he demands as you draw nearer.

His face softens when he sees the first tear arch over your sculpted cheekbone.

You quickly wipe it away.

“No where,” you grumble, pushing past him.

“________,” he urges.

You deflect his reaching hands.

“I’m serious, Neteyam,” you warn, the look in your golden eyes deadly. “Leave me alone.”

Despite not seeing Ao’nung the entirety of the day, you return to your post the next night, hoping the night prior had been a fluke. The seeds of the spartan fruit are held tight in your fist and you use them as a vessel to wish hard. But it’s futile when the stars that map the skies continue to inch and you continue to wait.

On the fourth night of Ao’nung’s absence, you decide to get to the bottom of things.

You weave through the maruis, into the village’s circle right before eclipse. You spot Tsireya first, then him. He isn’t hard to miss when you’ve grown to know the drape of his curling hair and the bass of his hearty laugh.

Rotxo, who sits opposite them, notices you first and his smile falters.

Ao’nung’s neck cranes and his face shutters as he locks eyes with you.

“________, hi,” he greets simply.

“Hi?” you parrot, the spartan seeds you were beginning to use as a safety blanket clutched tight in your fist. “That’s it?”

Ao’nung turns completely, waving off his sister and Rotxo as he stands to his full height.

“What are you—“

“I waited for you,” you hiccup, shocked at the emotion that hijacks every morsel of resolve and composure you’ve always kept a tight lid on. “I waited for you, but you never came.”

Ao’nung’s hands are on your shoulders, nudging you to a more private area, an alcove hidden among arched and gnarled tree roots.

“________, I don’t understand,” he says quietly. “You—“

“I waited for you so that we could plant these stupid seeds and—“

Your unfurled fist catches his attention and his eyes widen when he sees that you’ve gripped them so hard in your hands, your palms are bleeding.

He makes a move to grab you injured hand, but your fist tightens again.

“This is inappropriate,” Ao’nung says sharply, eyes pleading.

“What is?” you ask desperately.

“You and me,” he says, like it should make sense. “This isn’t right.”

Like a time warp, you’re brought back to the glowing forest before your departure. You see Neteyam’s disappointed expression, the twinge of disgust lacing his features at the thought of wanting you like you wanted him.

Your heart shatters.

Just when you thought you were getting over it all. Just when you thought that Ao’nung made you feel alive. Made you feel things you’d never felt before, he was extinguishing every sweet moment. If he was trying to cut ties before you could fall, it was too late. He was dousing the flames that had grown to engulf him and you don’t know how much more you can take.

“Why would you do this?” you whisper brokenly. “I wanted to be left alone. Why would you force yourself into my life if you don’t want to be in it in the first place? Why would you make me want you?”

Ao’nung’s expression turns sour.

“I want to be there for you, ________,” he says fiercely. “You shine so bright and you are so incredible, you don’t even know it, but I can’t do this.”

“Why?” you hoarse.

“You are promised to someone else,” he says vehemently. “This entire time, I have sought you out with the intention of making you mine, but your heart belongs to someone else.”

Your face crumples.

“What are you— I don’t—“

“Neteyam told me to stay away from you,” Ao’nung says. “That you two would solidify your union once it was safe to go back home.”

“No,” you interject. “That’s not—“

“Don’t be cruel,” he says quietly. “I don’t think I can take it.”

“No, Neteyam and I are nothing,” you spit. “We—“

The fury hits you full force as you pull away from Ao’nung and stalk away.

You don't you hear him rushing to catch up with you. It’s like you’re underwater, hearing muffled as you map the woven path to the Sully’s marui.

Everything is absolutely red as you clock him.

Neteyam is laughing with Lo’ak and Kiri when you approach.

The expression on your face is murderous when he looks up and he pales as he stands to meet your barreling figure. You’re shoving him away from you as soon as he steps in your immediate space.

“How could you?” you cry out.

Kiri and Lo’ak’s eyes are wide at your outburst, the warrior of few words teeming with anger and emotion as you square your shoulders. Kiri nudges Lo’ak’s shoulder and gestures towards their marui to give you two some privacy.

“________—“

“You told Ao’nung we were promised to each other?” you press, finger jabbing his chest heatedly.

His face contorts as his spine straightens.

“Yes, ________, I did,” he confirms, nearly smug.

“Why?” you cry out. “After everything, why would you—“

“You’re mine, ________,” he blurts, fists shaking as he closes in on you. “All mine, and I refuse to let anyone have you. Especially Ao’nung.”

The boy who stands before you is unrecognizable, so taken by anger and envy.

“You’re heartless,” you whimper.

“Me?” he asks incredulously, voice breaking as he comes up to grab you by your biceps. “You– You made me fall for you and suddenly you–“

“I liked you first,” you choke, eyes searching his wildly. “I liked you first and you told me that you were sorry. In that moment, I could see how you saw me. Pitiful, coarse, misplaced. Ao’nung doesn’t make me feel that way.”

“Ao’nung doesn’t—“

“For once in my life, I feel okay. I feel like I can finally breathe, and that upsets you? You’re jealous? All I’ve known is the forest from a distance, coinciding with clans that make me feel like an outsider! When it’s me and him, that’s all it is, just two souls existing together. This is the first time I can say such.” Your voice is hoarse, drawing wandering eyes.

Neteyam’s face softens.

His entire time growing up with you in the forest, he’d never seen you display as much of yourself as you had in this moment. He can feel it pouring from you, every feeling you’d kept locked tight in your heart. He sees it in your eyes, nearly feral as you tremble in his hold.

“You love him?” It comes out more like a statement, his chest heaving.

Love. A word that holds the weight of a thousand suns. Four letters that seal your fate.

Did you love Ao’nung?

No. You didn’t, but maybe…maybe you could learn to. You could learn to love him just how he’d learned you, how he meticulously dismantled every doubt you had in him.

“I could,” you whisper.

Neteyam’s grasp loosens and he looks wounded as he backs away from you, peering down at you like he doesn’t recognize the person you’ve become.

As the cloud dissipates, you become aware of the eyes watching the entire debacle.

You shrink, mortified that nearly the entire village knows of your feelings for their Olo’eyktan’s son.

You turn on your heel to flee, but a sturdy body stands a few feet away, leaned against one of the twisted trunks of a tree supporting the surrounding maruis.

You swallow.

“A-Ao’nung,” you splutter.

His smile is soft, knowing, as he pushes off the tree and comes to stand in front of you.

“You’re popular, little leaf.”

You buckle, head bowing in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Ao’nung,” you murmur. “I…”

His hand comes around your head and pushes your face into the smooth skin of his chest.

You soften.

“Why are you sorry?” he asks, hand caressing your loosening braids.

“This must be embarrassing,” you whisper.

He spins your bodies, tugging you back down along the path you marched to confront Neteyam.

“You could never embarrass me,” he assures you, guiding you towards the village circle. One of his hands turns yours over, inspecting the tiny wounds as you two hurry along. “Let’s get you fixed up, okay?”

You can barely swallow around the lump forming in your throat as he climbs up into an empty pod used for treating the wounded and helps you up.

“Sit,” he coaxes, striding to the ledges of supplies, meticulously organized by his own mother.

You obey, tears streaking your cheeks as you tuck one leg under the other. You don’t feel like the mighty warrior Jake and many of the Omatikaya have made you out to be all of these years.

You feel small, and you feel weak. All because of a boy.

“Hand, please,” he says gently, kneeling in front of you with an arm full of remedies.

You oblige, offering your shaky hand, palm up.

The blood has dried, revealing small little angry lacerations that sting when he pours a thin liquid to clean them. You hiss and the tears start again.

“Stop,” he murmurs, wiping away the rivulets that slip. “Stop crying.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, fist balling involuntarily when he slathers a viscous mixture on your palm that soothes the burns.

“Stop apologizing,” he says softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

He places a leaf over your palm and then wraps your hand in a soft cloth that sates the ache. When you’re all patched up, he brings your fingers to his lips, then holds them tightly in his lap.

“I need to hear it for myself,” he sighs.

“Hear what?” you croak.

“Every moment I spent with you since your arrival has been precious to me,” Ao’nung says. “I want you to say it to me.”

You’re in knots, swallowing hard as he blurs.

You take a gasping breath as you will yourself not to cry.

“I want you, Ao’nung. I see you,” you warble. “And I’m petrified to admit it because admitting it means I’m being vulnerable, but I want you to see me too.”

His lips curve, pulling you forward so that you have to catch yourself on your uninjured hand.

“You scared me for a little there,” he whispers, mouth a hairsbreadth from yours. “I don’t know what I would do if all that time we spent together meant nothing to you.”

You swallow for the thousandth time.

“Never,” you shudder.

His smile widens.

“You’re not gonna stop me, are you?” he asks, lips ghosting yours as his eyes search your own.

“No,” you murmur.

“Good,” he sighs.

He kisses you like you’re delicate, pulling you into him to taste every unspoken word you’ve held onto since the first night he came to you.

When he pulls away from you, forehead resting against yours, he’s so quiet when he whispers.

But you hear him all the same.

“I see you, little leaf.”

an — AHH second full length oneshot is done! if you've made it this far, i thank you again! i had so much fun writing this request and once more want to express gratitude the anon to shot me this idea! ALSO purposefully left out details of their little rendezvous' so that i could do some drabbles for them in the future! next fic is (finally) the lo'ak x reader i've been blabbing about.

#ao'nung #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung imagine #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar way of water #avatar the movie #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam

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