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#They also just crash into everything including people

syrupfog · 1 day

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Luffy needs a place to crash over the summer because his straw hat crew are all going home or traveling abroad before the new semester starts in the fall. He puts it off to the last minute and ends up claiming a bed in an old half-double with a painted sign reading Polar Tang.

(Is half-double a local term lmao it’s when there’s a house that’s split down the middle into two full houses lmao)

Fourteen people live here, between three bedrooms on the second floor and two in the attic. It’s absolutely a fire code problem but Luffy’s never been one to care.

(He’s not a fireman YET— not until he can pass the exam).

Plus, rent is dirt cheap. 200/month and that includes house dinner once a week.

He moves in with just the duffel bag of clothes, his sleeping bag and his backpack. The guy who’s number he picked up off a telephone pole is the one who answers the door. He’s tall and wide and apologizes for everything; the screen door that’s missing a screen, fireplace that doesn’t work and instead holds all their shoes, the state of the kitchen (dishes are stacked on every surface including the floor).

Luffy feels right at home. Not home like Zoro and Sanji’s place, which is clean and always smells of rubber from Zoro’s dumbbells. Home like with Ace and Sabo in a place that wouldn’t pass a health inspection.

He grins as they continue on.

Bepo shows him through the bedrooms on the second floor (homemade bunk beds squeeze four to a room) and the tiniest bathroom with a window that looks directly into the neighbor’s shower (“he refuses to put up a curtain so we don’t either” says Bepo.) (“sorry”.)

Then up to the attic, with a sloped bedroom that three mattresses are squished in (two guys in funny hats are asleep on the floor between two mattresses), a second bathroom (“no one is allowed to use that toilet because Shachi’s credit card is wedged in it”), and another bedroom.

“You’ll be in here”, Bepo says, and Luffy can sense the sorry before he says it as he pushes the door open.

It’s tiny. The ceiling slopes down so low there’s really only three walls. The tallest wall has shelves mounted on it completely covered in action figures.

There’s two mattresses — one bare, one covered in books. And surrounded by stacks of books. And papers. And empty coffee mugs.

And a guy blearily blinking at the light they’re letting in from the hall. He’s buried between piles of books, his laptop perched on his knees.

“Your roommate!” Bepo squeaks. “Bye guys!”

He closes the door and slips (noisily) down the stairs.

“You look like a vampire,” Luffy says. The man looks like he’s never seen sunlight.

“I’m on a dual pre-med pre-law track,” the man scowls.

“Cool,” says Luffy.

He dumps his things on the bare mattress. “Robin says I’m a free spirit.”

The man blinks at him. “Don’t open the window or the raccoon will get in. The aircon doesn’t work in the attic. If you break my Sora figures you will die in your sleep. I’m Trafalgar Law.”

“Hi Traffy! I’m Monkey D Luffy,” says Luffy. He holds out his hand and Law hunches back before awkwardly shaking it.

Luffy flops back onto the mattress. It smells like frogs. “Hey Traffy,” he says after a moment. Law squints at him. “you seem like someone who would like urb— urban ex— someone who would like to break into buildings.” Luffy looks over at him with a grin. “Wanna explore the underground tunnels on campus?”

Law scowls. He’s hunched at a 90 degree angle over his papers and books and coffee. He looks murderous.

“…Yeah.” He says.

Luffy kicks his feet. “This will be a good summer,” he says.

(He learns quickly that coffee is the only food allowed in their room because of The Ants and The Flies and The Possum).

(He also learns to take the fall for Law whenever they get caught exploring since Law can’t have a record)

(Luffy does this gladly)

(They kiss in an abandoned hospital)

#lulaw #lawlu #my writing

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suguruverse · 3 months

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ being best friends with ! satosugu

gojo satoru, geto suguru

notes # continuing my legacy with my loves <33 mayhaps poly relationship post next 😌 ALSOO there’s a mix of school days and adult hcs so ENJOY!!!!!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ satosugu being the type of best friends to either be walking 5 feet away from you or directly squashing you between them without giving you any space to breathe. suguru tends to keep a safe distance while on walks together, preferring just staying arm to arm whereas satoru ignores any personal boundaries and LOVES to walk while linking arms.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ when there’s no classes and no missions to go on they also invade your dorm to hang out even if it means just being in each others presence even if you’re all on your phones or even having fun little game nights. OR you and satoru love barging in suguru’s room whenever he ignores your texts asking to hang out

ੈ✩‧₊˚ you and satoru love drawing little things on suguru’s face whenever he falls asleep and taking selfies with him passed out on your bed. and it’s all fun and games until he wakes up and chases you guys around with one of his curses

ੈ✩‧₊˚ they LOVE crashing girls nights with you and shoko. gossiping, making cookies, doing some skincare, doesn't matter. THEY ARE THERE!!!!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gojo cannot shut up around you!!! genuinely whenever you two are together, there is never a silent moment. and when he isn't talking he just starts singing and serenading you until you give him attention

ੈ✩‧₊˚ sometimes you and suguru will have these cute little inside jokes with each other after coming back from a mission without satoru and if you guys ever bring it up in front on him, he will start whining to stop leaving him out and start fake laughing to feel included.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ unfortunate for you but they love posting bad photos of you and will laugh at them in front of you. will probably make a competition of who can take the ugliest one

ੈ✩‧₊˚ sometimes you try to fake flirt with suguru for funsies because he never seems like the type to get flustered easily and he normally never really goes along with it, only pinching your cheek really hard but on the rare occasion that he flirts back, he's so smooth with it that you have to hide your face in your hands while he laughs at you

ੈ✩‧₊˚ if you happened to get injured during a mission, suguru always carries you back to your dorms until satoru complains so that suguru throws him over his shoulder so that he's carrying both of you. everything is fun and games until satoru doesn't shut up and suguru "accidentally" drops him

ੈ✩‧₊˚ they're very much actions over words type of people. satoru says a lot of shit but when it comes down to those deep emotional talks then hes basically useless. so they love doing small things for you that you think they don't notice but you do

ੈ✩‧₊˚ so random but satoru has definitely tried to pull down suguru's pants in public and had failed horrendously

#💭 — talkingtothemoon #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk headcanons #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo fluff #geto fluff #satosugu x reader #satosugu fluff

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cassiopeiaemiliagaunt · 2 years

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Girlfriend | E.M.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend is very drunk, doesn’t recognize you and tells you he has a girlfriend.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: this is literally just 1k of fluff. There is a tiny bit of angst about the upside down, but not really. A lot of mentions of Eddie being drunk

Author’s note: Canon divergence, it’s not really ST4 Vol. 2 compliant. Also, established relationship! :))

Disclaimer: GIF isn’t mine ;))

Eddie Munson, the notorious drug dealer of Hawkins High and more importantly your loving boyfriend, never drank very much. Sure, he’d have the occasional beer during Corroded Coffin band rehearsals or after their performances in the Hide Out, but he almost never got hammered. He much preferred the high of a – or several – joints, relishing in the fact that the hangovers weren’t nearly as bad.

Which is why you’re very surprised to see your leather clad boyfriend quite drunk during Steve’s party at Harrington Manor, as you liked to call it. It is the first time you’ve ever seen him like this.

It is a few months after the downfall of Vecna and the (hopefully permanent) closing of the Upside Down. Eleven expertly managed to defeat him and everyone’s wounds (albeit the physical ones) finally managed to heal. Emotionally though, you’d never forget seeing Eddie’s seemingly lifeless body getting dragged out of the Upside Down by Steve, mad at yourself that you couldn’t protect him better from those godforsaken demobats.

The weeks that followed were a blur of hospital stays, refusing to leave Eddie’s side, whispered love confessions in the dark and the newly reappointed Chief of Police Hopper clearing Eddie’s name. Once Eddie was cleared to leave the hospital, you went on your first date with him and you can’t imagine your life without him ever since.

Steve had decided to throw a huge graduation party. Everyone from the self-proclaimed Babysitters’ Club has finally graduated – including Eddie, you think proudly. For this occasion, Steve had decided to open his house to the Class of ’86. Though, you also think he needed an excuse to throw a party to escape from the everlasting trauma of the Upside Down. But you weren’t one to complain, ready to jump at the opportunity to forget everything supernatural for a second.

Which is how you end up with a very drunk Eddie in Steve’s well-equipped and fully alcohol-stocked kitchen. During the party itself he mainly hung out with the older guys from Hellfire, excitedly talking about the summer campaign they were planning. You on the other hand mostly hung out with Robin and Steve. You had done a few shots with them, but not too many. You could feel the buzz of alcohol, but you’re far from drunk.

“Hey hot stuff, how you enjoying the party?” you ask Eddie, grinning up at him.

“Yeah, sure,” he says, eyeing you warily. You wonder what is up with that.

“Maybe it’s time to go to bed,” you suggest. Steve had very kindly offered you and Eddie one of the guest rooms to share. That way you could enjoy the party to the fullest. Robin and Nancy would take his parents’ room to spend the night in and if other people wanted to crash, there was always the basement with the pull-out sofa and the couch in the living room.

“No, thank you,” Eddie mutters dryly at you.

You grow concerned. What could be wrong? Maybe he’s mad at you for something, but for what? You stand right in front of him and wrap your arms around his neck, gazing deeply into his eyes, hoping to maybe find and answer there.

“What’s wrong, babe?” you ask, growing a little insecure.

He quickly ducks out of your arms, keeping you at a distance. Your face falls.

“I have a girlfriend. She’s very pretty and I love ‘er very much so leave me ‘lone, please,” he says seriously, interrupted by a lone hiccup. This has your frown morphing into a smile. He clearly is very drunk. You can’t help but giggle.

“Oh, really? That’s nice. What is her name?” you tease him.

“Y/N,” he says proudly.

“What a coincidence, that’s my name too,” you wink at him.

He narrows his eyes at you, clearly not believing you. God, he’s long gone and has to get to bed very soon. A plan forms in your head.

“I know where your girlfriend is, follow me, ‘kay?” you tell him. He nods his head excitedly at the mention of his girlfriend, eager to follow you along now. He’s like a puppy sometimes, you think fondly.

You grab his arm and maneuver the both of you through the heaps of dancing bodies in the living room and up the stairs to the guest bedroom. Once you’re inside he looks at you expectantly.

“Let’s get you in bed, shall we? You need to sleep,” you tell him.

“But-” he starts, but you interrupt him. “If you go to sleep now, you can see your girlfriend tomorrow, okay?” you try to compromise with him.

“Yeah, ‘kay,” he mutters tiredly, the fatigue clearly kicking in. You watch as he takes of his tight jeans and leather jacket, getting into the bed in his shirt and underpants. You go into the guest bathroom and fill two glasses that you find there with water. You put one on the bedside table next to Eddie, the other one you place on the other side of the bed.

“I’m gonna sleep on the other side of the bed, is that okay?” you ask him, tentatively. You really don’t want to leave him alone in the room in this state. He gazes up at you tiredly and mutters something along the lines of “Only if there’s pillows between”. So you obediently make a wall of pillows in the middle of the bed, seeing him doze off. Then you quickly take off your pants and bra, leaving you in a t-shirt and your panties. You flick of the lights in the room and get comfortable in the bed. Luckily, sleep finds you soon.

---

The next morning you’re awoken by a whiny groan from the other side of the bed. You turn around to see him rubbing his eyes and gazing around confusedly. He looks at the pile of pillows between the two of you and looks up at you questioningly. You giggle, last night’s memories quickly flooding back.

“You didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as me, because you had a girlfriend named Y/N,” you tease him. He groans again his head falling back into the pillow he slept on. You only begin to laugh harder. He then looks up at you with a small smile and throws all the pillows somewhere in the room. He wiggles to lay next to you and wraps you in his arms, muttering “C’mere, girlfriend.”

You smile and let yourself be cuddled.

#eddie munson #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #ST 4 #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fluff #stranger things

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pollyanna-nana · 9 months

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Louie isn’t evil.

Or: what Pikmin 4 tells us about his character.

BIG WARNING FOR PIKMIN 4 SPOILERS! (and the rest of the series)

———

I want to preface this by saying that I am in no way trying to be the end-all, be-all of character interpretations, but Pikmin 4 to me, at least, confirms the suspicions I’ve had since playing Pikmin 2 and 3 all those years ago that Louie ISN’T secretly evil, or possessed, or whatever else. He’s just… Louie. And I think that’s interesting in and of itself.

1. Olimar himself vouches for him, and clearly doesn’t think he’s a bad person.

Say what you will, but I’m inclined to think Olimar is a decent judge of character. Clearly he’s worked with Louie for enough time to see that while he’s not very good at his job, he’s not intentionally so— at least not in a malevolent way (will get more into this later). He also wants you to forgive him for Olimar’s sake, which can be read as self-sacrificing (as Olimar is known to be) but I also think hints at the soft spot he has for Louie.

It's also worth noting that he states during a end-of-day conversation that he told Louie that, since he's a new employee, he should do everything Olimar does... including throw castaways into the onion. Interesting that Louie took this so literally, but it does provide an explanation for why he kidnapped the Koppaites beyond "he's evil and crazy".

2. He really, REALLY loves his grandma.

Like, wow. He talks about her SO MUCH both in his Piklopedia entries and also elsewhere in the game. It's interesting. Worth noting is that he never mentions any other family members- unlike Olimar, who talks about his wife and each of his children independently. I've said this before, but the content of a lot of these entries implies to me that Louie was mainly raised by his grandma, likely since birth. And given some of her emails in Pikmin 2, assuming they're also canon to Pikmin 4's timeline... Well, Louie certainly had an interesting upbringing. But he clearly loves her all the same.

3. He has a mischievous streak and tends to do things on impulse.

This was already fairly obvious from the previous games, but I think it's worth noting that this game confirms that he's... would immature be the right word? In any regard, he doesn't seem to see himself as a "grown-up"- when in all likelihood he is. Personally, as a 22-year-old, I find that pretty relatable as I often think of myself as younger when in reality I am by all definitions an adult. This, along with his grandma still being around, makes it pretty much certain that Louie is a lot younger than Olimar and the president, likely in his early to mid twenties. Being a bit of a goofball isn't really out of the ordinary, all things considered.

THAT BEING SAID, he's clearly capable of practicing self-restraint when he wants to. What he says here about the red Pikmin is pretty significant, since we know he's willing to eat just about anything- but clearly he has some reservations about creatures that are friendly and helpful. Which leads to...

4. He loves dogs and fluffy things.

Same. But he doesn't even consider eating Moss, Oatchi or the Ancient Sirehound, showing that his creature-eating habits stop at things he recognizes as useful. He clearly also holds affection for things that are soft and fuzzy, and says as much.

5. He is so autism.

He plays with fidget toys. He loves certain textures and sounds. This guy is stimming all over PNF-404!!! I think this also lends some explanation for why his behavior is what it is- things like taking Olimar's suggestion to do as he does super literally even after crashing on an alien planet, his hyperfixation on cooking and tendency not to communicate and incorrectly interpret situations (thinking the Koppaites are kidnappers in 3, running away from you in 4). He could even be low or no empathy as well, explaining why it takes a hot minute to get him to understand why people are upset with him about something.

Interestingly this game also makes it clear that Louie wants to live on the planet, or at least thought he did while you were chasing him down, which makes a lot of sense when you consider that he doesn't really seem to fit in back on Hocotate. I, too, wish to run away to an alien world with all of the things that I like and no other people, so I get you, Louie.

6. He hates his boss and his job, and the golden pikpik carrot incident was likely premeditated.

This probably looks bad, but honestly? As a fellow work-hating anti-capitalist schmuck I get it. The president is for all intents and purposes a huge asshole, from sending Olimar straight back to the planet after selling his ship to not caring that Louie got left behind, just wanting to find the rest of the treasures. I doubt he is very kind to his employees, and doesn't seem very good at running the business. Definitely a funny character, but if he were my boss I would absolutely want to punt him into the sun.

From some other entries he clearly wants to sell certain things to accrue money, but it's for things like getting better kitchen tools and following his dream to have his own cooking show. Clearly being a freight driver isn't what Louie actually wants to do with his life, and he could not give less of a shit about what happens to the company. Very short-sighted on his part, but also again, yeah I get you Louie.

7. He... doesn't like the color red for some reason.

Honestly, I'm not even really sure what to make of this. Is it because it reminds him of the Hocotate ship? Or does he just not like the color? Would be very interesting considering that it's Olimar's signature color. Perhaps that's at least part of why he attacks you in Pikmin 2- though that's speculation for another day.

Also funny to me is his comments on the black-colored treasures. We know blue is his favorite color, but I guess he's also a bit of a goth at heart. Lol.

In conclusion.

I think Louie isn't written or intended to be evil, and Pikmin 4's portrayal of him was intentionally written to confirm this. He's just, as some have said, an agent of chaos, but that doesn't make him a bad person. Just an autistic 20-something working a shitty job he doesn't care about, who loves his grandma and has a mischievous streak and a hyperfixation on food. At least from what I can interpret, ymmv!

#polly speaks #pikmin #pikmin 4 spoilers #pikmin spoilers #pikmin 4 #pikmin 2 #pikmin 3 #louie pikmin #olimar pikmin #character analysis #I guess #I dunno I mostly just wanted to put all this shit together in my brain but I guess other people can see it too haha #This is a non exhaustive list btw I just had a limit to how many images I wanted to wrangle but maybe I'll add on to this in the future #for now uh. Enjoy my weird rambling about the pikmin gremlin

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neteyamsilly · 1 year

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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 5

summary ;; What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? PART 4 | PART 6 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; jake is so depressing here. i also took liberty with his character and the reasonings for his decisions in atwow, sorry in case if thats not how you see him LMAO happy reading 💞 please excuse my mistakes if you see any! ‼ I DONT TAKE TAG REQUESTS ANYMORE ‼

“One chance, Jakesuli. You will only have one chance. Use it well. Our Great Mother favors you, that we know. But this favor hasn’t been granted to you. It has been granted to my granddaughter.”

“I won’t fail.” Not again.

“What does failing mean, I wonder. Would you fail if you take her soul back from her happiest? Or would you fail if you let her have the peace our Great Mother has laid her into?”

“I will get my daughter back. This isn’t her time. If Eywa has given me this chance, then she thinks the same as me.”

“You will take that honor from her, then?” Mo’at was being cryptic, but Jake saw through the exterior of the neutral Tsahik into an exhausted, mourning grandmother. “She was the daughter of Toruk Makto, and he was her last shadow.”

It came back to Jake in a gut-churning realization, it was his shadow that had fallen over you from the light of the torches on the walls as you’d given your last breath. It was his shadow. “No,” he refused, adamantly. “She will get to achieve greater honors of her own than that. I won’t be the one defining her ending.” The last bead of your songcord having his name, Toruk Makto’s name, was supremely wrong to him. He would not accept this fate for you.

“Very well, then.” Secretly, she was pleased with him. With his answer. “Get going. As I said. One chance.”

Jake would never be able to get used to the magnificence that was Vitraya Ramunong, or, the Tree of Souls. To him, Pandora itself was a marvel already too good to be true that he’d fallen in love with, and abandoned his own race for, there was no getting used to the beauty for a human like him who’d only found it once in neon lights, ever. He could reach the end of his natural lifespan in this body and still there would be much left to discover. That’s why Jake was more vulnerable to one of the beating hearts of Eywa in the shape of a giant, glowing willow tree.

No Na’vi was immune to the soul-purifying, all-consuming, yet being-dwarfing peace enveloping one’s very spirit, in a cradling hug as if they were nothing but a newborn in their mother’s arms. In here, only one fact mattered: they were childrens of Eywa, all of them dear, all of them seen, all of them safe and sound, including him, once alien to Eywa the way Earth was related to Pandora. Everything spoke to him here in a language he didn’t understand, but could respond to, again, in a language he didn’t understand, his soul doing the communicating.

Jake was also a child here, Eywa’s chosen child.

And he had come to her door for the most difficult request of his life, feeling like he was asking his mother for money right after he had crashed their car, unable to look her in the eye and expecting the biggest of scoldings for his shamelessness.

This was nothing like asking for her assistance against the sky people, back then, he had agency, power, the clans backing him up, Toruk. If Eywa didn’t hear him, he would fight until the last drop of blood in his body was spent anyway, he was ready.

Now, he had nothing.

Nothing to offer in return, not one concrete reason as to why he should have his daughter back other than being a desperate father with nowhere to return to other than the mercy of the Great Mother. He just wanted his child. Nothing mattered.

Not how and why Quaritch had spawned right under his nose with an avatar body, not how they could even slither in without detection, not the threat of what the sky people could bring upon their heads with that — nothing, not now. Nothing mattered until he saw this through.

Jake had found the will to quite literally tear himself from your side like nail from flesh only when you’d stabilized enough. Stabilized, as in, the faintest rise and fall of your ribcage Neteyam had to stare from where he was sitting like a sentinel for a full minute to spot, a tideless, still ocean only moving with whiffs of wind, his own breathing unnoticeable — to match yours, or to silence the sounds in his own body to hear better, Jake didn’t know.

No sky person was allowed to take over from Mo’at and Kiri. Norm had told Jake none of this made sense, if the bullet had nicked the bowels enough and the dirt leaked into the bloodstream, the possibility of sepsis was eventual, and if it didn’t, you had bled too much anyway, a blood transfusion was necessary, and the internal organs... — Christ, the amount of bad end scenarios Jake had been subjected to was as if they were telling him to open a grave for you anyway. Tsahik had scoffed into their faces. The way of healing was something none of them would see, she had scoffed. Now ally, or not. You can’t fill a cup that’s already full. Jake was in a hopeless need for water into wine kind of miracle, and honestly, he wasn’t complaining.

Leaving High Camp behind to set off on a journey calling for only him was one of the hardest things he’d done yet, the silhouette of you lying motionless, his family scattered around the tent, shadowed in their own mourning, folded into themselves was burned into his mind, glimpses of their pain visible from eclipses of light occasionally falling on their faces. A sight he never wanted to see again in his life if he could help it. It was a frosted, iron-thorned hand squishing his heart into ground meat.

Tuk, ever the stingy monopolizer, had brought her favorite toys to scatter around you because she thought they’d comfort you the way they comforted her, had tried snuggling with your unconscious body and was warned by Kiri only to hold your hand instead. She had taken to playing with your fingers, the depressive gloom of years beyond her age crooked on her. Jake couldn’t stand the sight of the little girl telling you bedtime stories he and Neytiri used to, for a moment only, he could pretend you were just going along with your sister’s whims and smiling with your eyes closed as you listened.

Kiri, buzzing around to change the bandage-leaves that soaked up some sort of sickly black colored puss every couple hours, had explained to him the salve they used on you was getting the infection and the splinters of the bullet they couldn’t get out of your body, which had turned the color of your blood into that — but the thing was, given the dwelling of the woodsprite in your mouth, they couldn’t feed you the porridge-like mix to speed up the process of blood production in the bone marrow, and she was exerting herself looking for some other way.

Before he’d left the tent for good, she had handed him the bullet— or, the biggest piece of it they’d taken out of your body, it was a mere pursed and shriveled, tiny metal. The exhausted girl had stammered when explaining that whatever they’d hit you with, had broken into shards inside you upon impact, creating severe lacerations and lethal hemorrhage that they’d worked tirelessly to pick out.

Jake had stared hollowly at it for the longest time. This small thing. It was such a small thing that took you from him.

The sentence that sent you away was also as small, and damning as this bullet. ‘Go.’

Kiri had seen it sink in his face, closing her five-fingered hand on his palm, on the bullet. “You should get going, dad,” she’d said. “We’re okay here.”

Jake had taken one last look. At Neytiri wiping your body to clean all the congealed blood. At Tuk holding your hand. At Kiri trying to fill in shoes bigger than her feet. At you lying down with trinkets surrounding you like funeral flowers. And forced his body to keep moving when all he wanted to do was stay.

He’d then heard Lo’ak complaining to his older brother outside the tent, “How can he be so cold?” The heaviness was getting to the boy, agitated and misapprehending. But he was always this way, if something was out of his control, the inability to act to change it manifested as frustration, blind anger. “Why is he so… unresponsive? Emotionless?”

Jake would have let it slide had it been about something else, but his children running their mouths not knowing he was a hair's breadth away from going clinically insane had gotten to him. He was burning alive.

“You think I don’t care, boy?” He emerged from the tent like some last boss, initially not caring he’d scared the brothers. “You think I don’t feel at all? My own child dying in the same arms I used to hold her as a baby — you think that doesn’t faze me?”

Neteyam, the mediator, or rather, the blame-taker, ran to his little brother’s rescue, the latter too flabbergasted to form any words yet. “Dad, he doesn’t mean—”

“I know exactly what he means.” When the anger subsided, Jake sighed with the weariness of an ancient man. The flames had died before they could climb, he was too exhausted for it. Honesty and trust, as Neytiri had said.

Having lost everything, having nothing to lose, and having a lot to lose were somehow simultaneously the same thing to Jake in the predicament he’d found himself in. “I know how you see me. You only know me as the person I want to show you.”

Lo’ak’s go-to answer was presented to Jake on a silver platter. “Sorry, sir.”

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all. Jake wasn’t trying to get Lo’ak to bow his head. “Don’t apologize—” He cut himself short, licking his chapped lips, and after rubbing his face, he’d put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Lo’ak. Son. I feel this, alright? Of course I do. I’m your father.” He shook him gently, feeling the words weren’t reaching him, who was just staring at something on the ground off to the side. “There’s no greater pain a parent can go through in life than losing his child. You can’t understand what this means right now—what it’s doing to me. You will only know when you become a father yourself.” He gently tapped Lo’ak on the chin so he would raise his head and look at him in the eye already. And when he did, Jake said what he said slowly, hoarsely. “But know this. Know I will lose myself if I lose you, or any of your siblings.” He turned to Neteyam as well, who was watching in full alert mode. “I’m fighting not to lose my sanity as we speak.”

Lo’ak swallowed, unsure and weirded out to hear something like this for the first time in his life. Jake didn’t blame him. He was never emotionally upfront or honest before, not even used to it, more awkward with it than his boys were. But none of that mattered. Not anymore, after what happened to you because of his shortcomings. “You just look so composed—“

“I have to be.” Jake shook his head, eyelids hanging heavy, his whole head was heavy. “I just can’t crumble under it, do you understand? I have to be strong. I can’t lose myself in it. Your sister needs me. You need me. To be strong.” He took his hands off the boy’s shoulders, putting a palm on his cheek and patting a few, fatherly times before backing off altogether. “Never say that I don’t care. Never. I might not show it—and it’s a father’s duty not to show it, so my family will have a stable anchor. Get what I’m saying?”

Lo’ak looked reassured, lighter. So that’s what Neytiri had meant. “How… how can I help?”

His youngest son’s inclination to get to the root of the problem and pump out solutions was in consanguineous with his inability to stop and wait, uncomfortable in his skin when he couldn’t do anything to improve the situation and was confronted with the intimacy of having to feel, always wanting to act. Lo’ak was like Jake in that way. Awkward when it came to communication. Dishonest with themselves.

“Stay here.” Jake said, right from his heart. “Stay safe. I don’t wish for anything else in this world.”

Lo’ak’s eyes softened, and as the father, Jake felt the renewal of the bond between them, saw the understanding in his youngest son, saw something else than the guilt and regret over being caught after mischief, for once. “I’m sorry, dad.”

“Don’t apologize.” He shared a meaningful look with him, trying to convey, again, his apology wasn’t what he wanted. Yet, his sons were defaulted to saying sorry half the time they spoke to him nowadays. Jake was understanding the severity of it, too much too late. Lo’ak nodded, ears tipped down slightly.

Then he turned to the eldest. “Neteyam—”

But he opened his mouth before Jake could say anything else. Ready. Always on his feet. “Yes, I will—”

Jake clicked his tongue. “Rest.”

Neteyam was about to say yes to whatever he was told to do, as always, but stopped right in the middle of it, voice catching in his throat, eyes blinking in confusion. “What?”

“Rest.”

“But—”

“Rest, Neteyam, I won’t tell you again.”

God knows he needed it. Neteyam looked like he’d been having night terrors for days, accumulated anxiety making him jumpy. “Sorry, sir.”

“Stop—“ Jake caught himself before he could raise his voice. “Why are you apologizing?”

Neteyam didn’t talk for a while. But when he did, he was looking up at him underneath his lashes, unable to keep eye contact for more than two seconds. “It’s my fault.”

“Bro,” Lo’ak said, a pitiful objection.

Jake knew where this was going. “What is?”

“I should have been there.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line before furrowing his brow, closing his eyes. Jake knew what he was seeing, repeated over and over again in his mind. “I should have known right away when I couldn’t catch up to her. I could have prevented it. It’s my responsibility.” One tear slipped by as he hung his head. “My fault.”

There it is.

Jake had told him before. “You’re the older brother, you gotta act like it.” — even though you and him were more like affable twins than older brother and younger sister that he never had to explicitly be a guardian to you like he was to Lo’ak, he had to be thinking this was his biggest failure. Neteyam was just reflecting what he’d been taught, the standards his father was holding him up to. Of course the boy had been overthinking it to the point where he was the catalyst to the event by not predicting your fakeout.

“No,” Jake rasped, after a beat. “This is on me first, and the sky people who got to her second. And that’s the end of the story.”

Neteyam, up until this point, had to bear half the blame, if not the rest of it, for the consequences of his siblings’ actions. Upon receiving this kind of answer, he startled with an incredulous gasp and full stare at Jake. “But I—”

“It’s not about you, Neteyam,” Jake explained, although the words were harsh, he had done his best to soften the impact. “I did this. Blame me, okay?”

‘How could I?’ was written in neon letters over the boy’s head even if he didn’t say anything. Too good-natured. He idolized Jake a lot more than the man deserved. “Mother was… she was… She is grieving, she doesn’t mean it.”

“You gotta stop making excuses for people, boy. Especially when they’re in the right.” A smile pulled on his lips, but died as it was born. “I pushed and pushed until we reached the edge, thinking there was never an edge at all. I should have known better. I should have been better. This is between me and your sister, and that’s why it is me who has to go to the Tree of Souls.”

And he’d left, but not before pulling his boys into his chest, cradling the back of their heads against himself, the smell of home repulsing instead of comforting. Prickles on his skin was the comfort he got from being able to hug his children when you were absent. It didn’t feel right.

He missed you dearly, an aching, gaping hole in his very being that only grew larger as he saw what you left behind half-completed or messy like you’d stood up and gone off for a minute to come back to it later —

The unmade pallet from the night of your Iknimaya argument that Jake had shed tears on when he’d seen the state of it, having the signs of someone getting up from it like you would be returning to go back to sleep any second.

The unfinished bark plate you had set aside to eat later and fought Lo’ak not to touch it. a squabble Jake had to break before you started wasting food by throwing it at each other.

The stack of fruits you’d gathered that you never shared except for Neytiri sometimes.

The half-carved cup you were working on because the regular cups weren’t big enough for your water needs and you didn’t like to refill it about three times until you were satisfied.

The incomplete anklet you were making out of rainbow beads for Tuk that was confidential to everyone but Jake, who knew from observing you, of course — you were missing a couple colors that you just couldn’t seem to find, nagging his head off to just let you roam around farther and there was no danger as the sky people couldn’t get in the vortex.

The little animal doodles you scratched at your side of the tent when you couldn’t sleep at nights, waking Jake up in the process every single time to listen until your breathing evened out as sleep retook you in its arms again, because he was bodily programmed to startle awake at one single rustle in his living quarters from his Marine days and fell into old habits after the return of the sky people, he knew you had developed insomnia from being uncomfortable at High Camp, longing for your hammock cocooned in the safety and comfort of the forest.

And the dumb romance novels you had taken from the humans that you, Kiri and Tuk giggled about at girl’s nights reading out loud, Spider invited as an honorary guest at times, just so you could tease Kiri about him and annoy your brothers that they weren’t allowed in, but the human boy was.

All of them had no owner now. Neither of your family members could look at them, your ghost would appear in precious memories beside your belongings if they looked too much. He didn't need to concentrate for a phantom of you to appear, you were everywhere he looked, and even now, as the gently pulsating lavender humming, a song from Eywa herself, right underneath the veinlike, labyrinthine roots was the cool summer rain on Jake’s sizzling skin, all he could see was your first communion with Eywa in his arms while Neytiri formed the tsaheylu, the clan spread all around them in celebration.

“You’ve called, and I’ve answered,” he greeted in positivity. “I think this is the most direct you’ve been with me in a long while.”

He didn’t know if it was Eywa or you he was saying this to. He genuinely didn’t know.

Kneeling, and putting his arms on the mossy, thick root, he looked up to see the woodsprites swaying and floating in the air. He reached for his braid, letting the squirming nerve-endings coil around the white-cored lavender thread closest to him, taking in the presence of Eywa, all around yet nowhere at all, but listening. No sign of you. Was he supposed to talk like this? Just like this? Was he not allowed to see you?

Jake had to admit he had been harboring the tiniest expectation of meeting you somehow, or hearing your voice through the connection like he did with a Tree of Voices when Mo’at had cryptically informed him of his chance. But this was it?

If he failed, this would be it.

“I guess this isn’t all that different,” he said out loud, instead of thinking inwards where the confusion flew. “It’s been like this for a while now, you and I. You talk, I don’t hear you. I talk, you don’t hear me. We throw the same ball at each other only for it to bounce back. Monologuing to a tree is the same thing, except it doesn’t talk back like you do.”

He looked up and around, there was nothing else to do. The air was the same as it always was in here. Always accommodating to what each Na’vi found comforting. “The last time I came here like this was to ask for Eywa’s help in the last stand against sky people. I told her I would fight either way, I knew that’s why she’d chosen me. All my life, all I’ve done was fight. Even when I wasn’t able to, I was fighting lesser battles with the excuse of not having anything to fight for. It’s all I’ve known. All I’ve ever done. It’s what I was best at.” His brow twitched, and Jake tried to keep his composure, not because he didn’t want anybody to see, no, it was to keep his shit together so he didn’t fuck this up. He had to be honest. His pride was the last thing he needed in his way at the moment.

“You were born to a different man. To a changed man. To a father who could let go because he thought his family was safe. You got to meet the man I used to be when my reason for fighting came back from my star. I know you don’t like that person — you can’t — couldn’t get used to him. I know.”

From the discomfort, his fingers dug into the moss first, and found the bark of the root, his fist curling on it next. “But I had to keep fighting.” He softly brought his fist back on the root. “The strong prey on the weak, that’s just how things are. That’s how I had it on my star. And my kids — you, you are weak, and it’s not an insult — it’s not me criticizing, Jesus, you are just children, and there’s a war on your damn heads. That’s what I mean. That’s what I’ve always meant. It’s natural that you are weak, Eywa was kind enough to let you be soft. Not Earth, though, never Earth.”

Jake had to clench his teeth and bite the anger into the inside of his mouth to not be boiled alive — not to let it reach to your side. He let out a soundless snarl. “You would never be ready for the cruelty of Earth, I would never wish that upon any of you. But it was brought to you. Right at your doorstep. I couldn’t protect you from it by hugs and kisses. You wouldn’t be safe from a gun extended to you by extending a branch in return. No.”

He reached and caressed the glowing thread, brows furrowed. “I did what I thought was right to prepare you. Every single one of you. I was making you tough. I had to. To protect you. And of course there would be clashing along the way, it’s what happens between parent and child. We fight. We fight like cats and dogs for dominance. You try me to show strength. I stand my ground to let you know you gotta do better.”

He had fired those sentences with incoherent speed, and when he got to the end of it, Jake got choked up. Stopped for a moment, took a breath. Blinking several times, his tone became vulnerable, he didn’t have anyone in front of him, but he tore away his gaze anyway. “Somewhere along the way, things just… Without me noticing, everything…” He sighed through his nose, his voice nothing but a whisper. “I fought more battles than I fought for my family. I thought I was doing my job as a father when I didn’t even know shit about being a father.”

A couple seconds floated by, and his gaze was stolen by a lone woodsprite descending down until it staggered on the fist he had against the root. The shine of it reflected from the mistiness of his eyes. His lower lip slightly trembled at the thought of it being you. This little woodsprite. You?

“The thing is, I’m lost, sweetheart,” he admitted quietly, small, shaky, not taking his eyes off the woodsprite. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I sit here, I look back, and think why I keep fighting. We could have migrated. Looked for a new Hometree. Another forest. Left the humans alone. Or made peace. A treaty. Something. None of your lives had to be sullied by war. Yet I chose this. I chose to fight, as I ‘ve always done, because now I had something to fight for. And the fighting wasn’t limited to them, I fought Neteyam, I fought Lo’ak, I fought you, my own kids, and I didn’t even know.”

He reached for it with his other hand, tentatively, scared that it would fly away with the slightest contact. But he was able to touch the top of the woodsprite ever so slightly, the little zap making all the hair on his body stand up. Jake swallowed thickly, his whole head on fire. “I don’t know what to do. I just miss you. I miss you so much, sweet girl. I wish you would scream at me. Say you hate me for all I care. Anything. Hate me until the day you die, but do it with all of your family surrounding you in old age, in peace. I would be content knowing you are under the same sky as me. But I’m forgetting your voice already, and I—” He held back a violent sob, hissed to not let it out, and groaned, getting angry at himself for the emotions. He shut his eyes tightly, willing away the tears. “I wish I could say these to your face. I wish I could see you one last time, smiling at me.”

Having everything to lose. Having lost everything. Having nothing to lose. Three different meanings had coiled around each other like snakes to become one singular outcome in linear relation of cause-and-effect through you. It wasn’t a cycle.

Having something to fight for. Having nothing left to fight for. Having nothing to fight for. You were everything. Everything. What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent?

“I see you.”

The voice — your voice, albeit much, much younger, almost made him jump. When his eyes shot open, Jake was in a different location. He knew this place. The creek away from the village he and his family often frequented.

The twilight penumbra of the eclipse dimmed the shadows embracing the forest, but the ethereally glowing lights of all colors illuminated and got reflected from the water as if it was a mirror. Above and all around him were lazily dancing fireflies — or, rather, bioluminescent bugs he didn’t know the names of, tiny stars floating in the air like glitter. It was magical.

Jake realized with aching melancholy that this was the first time he’d taken you out on an eclipse to show you the beauty of the forest on a special father-daughter date. The exact memory.

The breath that left him was shaky as he felt the presence sitting right beside him, in the corner of his vision, he saw the ripples on the shining water made by swinging legs.

Jake froze for a second. Unmoving. Not looking at all — because if this was a dream, or a hallucination, he wouldn’t be able to bear it. His breathing got louder, more labored, the log underneath his hands was so realistically textured and damp. If he looked. If he looked, you would disappear. That’s how he felt.

He was supposed to talk. But now, his ribcage was holding the words hostage, burning with the strain of the pile-up.

“But I’m sad you don’t see me,” you said, and he was shaken by hearing your voice yet again, remembering the moment he found himself here, how he’d heard — ‘I see you’. “You don’t even want to look at me.”

So much hurt and vulnerability in that sentence that it left him breathless.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Him launched into his own turmoil racking his brain about how Quaritch was back as an avatar, ignoring to look at you to protect his composure and just trying to think, think — think, of a plan, of a how, of what to do. You calling after him once Neytiri, you and he arrived at High Camp after dodging Quaritch’s men. Him purposefully walking away because he needed to cool off and not to explode on you right there and there.

That whole time, Jake hadn’t looked at you. If he did, he would have seen you needed help.

He shattered, all of his walls crumbling down, stripped down to bare despair.

“Oh sweetheart.” Before he knew it, he had wrapped his arms around you in a crushing hug, basically snatching you off from where you were sitting and on his lap, and your warmth, your pulse, your tangible existence wrenched a shiver out of him — and he buried his face to the little crook of your neck, taking your scent in, hiding his trembling face and the quiver of his arms by holding you tight. You were here. As your younger self, no older than eight, but he had you. Not bloody and battered in his arms, but alive, so alive. “Oh sweet girl, my sweet girl… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He kissed the side of your head, felt the real tickle of your hair against his face, blessed with the soothe of his child’s smell. “I see you. Of course I see you. I’ve always seen you.”

The snowflake-frail snivel followed by your sobbing sniffle broke his heart into pieces. “You’re a liar.” He shook his head, hugging you tighter. “You’re mean to me. You’re so mean to me.”

“I’m sorry.” That was all he could say. All he could do with his thrashing soul smoldering at the wetness of your tears on his shoulder. “I am mean. I’m sorry… You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“It hurt so much.” You wailed. “It hurt a lot.”

Jake began to caress your head with an awkward, clumsy, panicked hand, disturbed as to if you meant the moment of your death — at him pressing on the wound with all he had to stop the bleeding, or he and your strained relationship in general. “I know, sweetheart,” he said anyway, a stone clogging his throat. He didn’t try to explain, or tell you why, didn’t argue that it wasn’t what he meant to do. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He had you in his arms. “I know. I know.”

You wouldn’t get to be younger than this. And maybe, he would never get to see you be older, either. The thought crumpled his face like some piece of paper. Jake just wanted to hold you. And when you wrapped your little arms around him too, freely crying in his arms, a couple tears escaped his eyes as well, he didn’t know what kind of face he was making, perhaps it was better that you didn’t see him crumble.

In the middle of it somewhere, he realized that you were younger because it was your inner child that needed this, she was more honest — more open with Jake. It caused him to sway with you back and forth, ribcage hurting with each breath. And you let it all out, clinging to him.

“I love you, always,” he whispered, watching the bioluminescent bugs, when you were calmer and had fallen silent on his chest, not wanting to let him go and just listening to his heartbeat. “Even if I don’t show it — especially when I don’t show it. You are loved, my sweet girl, more than you know. More than you’ll ever know. More than I can show.” He looked down at the top of your head, agonized. “But I want to try. I want to show you more, moving forward.”

Knowing what he was insinuating, “But it’s nice here,” you said, voice thick and coarse from crying. You still didn’t pull back to look at him. Both of you, from the start of this, never looked at one another. Not once. Embarrassed and shameful to be honest, Jake thought. That pride you two shared. “You’re not mean to me here.”

But he needed to see you. You needed to be seen. So, as gently as he could, he unwrapped your arms around him, and took your baby cheeks in his hands, and looked you in the eyes. Another tear slipped from him. “You been listenin’ to me, right sweetheart? From the start?” You nodded adorably. You wouldn’t have said oel ngati kameie and accepted to let him see you if you hadn’t felt his true intentions and heart through him pouring it all out at the Tree of Souls. “I’m hiding a lot of things. But I want to be open with you. You wanna know the secret why I’m… mean?” You nodded again, more reluctant this time. “It’s because I’m scared.”

You gasped, genuinely lost and shocked, and he tried not to smile at the purity, the innocence. “You? You’re scared?”

“All the damn time,” he whispered, landing a kiss on your temple, his opposite thumb tracing a loving line on your other temple. “Every day. Every night.”

“But you’re Toruk Makto. You’re never scared.”

“I’m also a dad,” he said sorrowfully, as if he was giving out a secret. “And it’s precisely why I’m scared. I’m scared for you. For your siblings. Of losing you. It turns into anger. Anger turns into irreparable damage. Things I can’t take back.”

In the blink of an eye, you were back to your real age. For some reason he couldn’t quite grasp, you had shed the exterior of your childhood. But he didn’t mind, didn’t let you off his lap.

“Don’t be scared, I’m here,” you said, putting your own small palm on his cheek, upset by the fact that he was feeling like that in the first place rather than whatever explanation he had. Your response was also childish, but he leaned into your touch anyway, comforted regardless, even if you were already gone — for this moment, he could ignore that no, you weren’t here at all. “If you told us, we would have been more careful not to make you sad.”

Ah, he was being lectured on communication by his kid. It had a certain flavor of humbleness to it. Jake adored it nonetheless. “I know,” he said, “I’m sorry. I won’t be mean anymore.”

“That’s a lie.”

Jake couldn’t stop the laugh, though it was tottering. “Yeah, it is. But I promise you that I’ll never hurt you again.”

“That’s a lie too. Wasn’t it you who said not to make promises you can’t keep?”

“Alright, smartypants, let me rephrase it then,” the little glimpses of your brash self made him happy. “I will never intentionally hurt you, and if I end up doing so, unknowingly, I will always make it up to you. No exceptions.”

You were acting uninterested, but stole intrigued glances at him. “How are you gonna make it up to me?”

“I’ll let you choose, how does that sound?” Jake tapped your nose. “In return, if I don’t know and haven’t taken the first step, you’ll have to tell me outright what I did.”

You deadpanned. “But I always do.”

“No, you don’t.” He raised one of his eyebrows. “You become passive-aggressive when you’re annoyed and pick fights with me.”

“That’s not—”

“Sweetheart.”

“Okay, fine.” You huffed. The normalcy had made him forget just what he was doing here. “But you get angry.”

“What I get angry at is—” He cut himself off with a tongue click. “Not important. I do get angry. But at sincere honesty, us just talking it out, I could never get angry at that. Is the difference clear?”

“I think it is.” You were apprehensive about something, your fingers on his neck flexing as if you wanted to pull them back and break the hug. “But you have to promise.”

“I promise.” And then, Jake remembered, a new fire hardening his face, not in anger, but determination. “And speaking of which. I would never. Ever. Not in a million years would get angry or blame you for getting hurt to that degree — for others, humans, avatars, whoever and whatever the hell they are, hurting you, I could never get mad at you for it. Do you understand me? Your safety is the most important to me. I could never hate you for it.” His voice dropped down to a softer, gentler tone just above a whisper. “There is nothing in this world that’ll make me hate you. Nothing. I will love you through the most heinous crimes and in inexcusable deeds, you will find forgiveness in me even if there’s nobody left, that’s a father’s heart. Forever and always, I am with you.” He touched his forehead, and then yours. “I see you.”

You avoided eye contact.

Ah, yes, the famous emotional awkwardness. He was sort of aware his feelings had reached you, you just didn’t know what to say. Jake hadn’t been like this with you for the longest time. So, he decided to make you more comfortable. “Yes I will get mad at you for breaking curfew, and yes, we might stop talking for a while and beef about the dumbest things if the fight is too intense — but always, always come to me when something is wrong. I will drop everything without hesitation.” He leaned in a bit to catch your wayward stare. “Got it?”

You murmured. “Okay.”

“Are we clear?”

You murmured once more. “Yeah.”

“Repeat it, then.”

There was something between cringing and unwillingness on your face, but at his pointed look, you sighed, giving in. “Always come to you if something’s wrong even if we’re fighting.”

“That’s right,” he affirmed, encouraging to let you know this wasn’t embarrassing. “What else?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Dad will always love you.” He nudged you, noting the flick of your ears in happiness when he’d said it. “Come on, say it.”

You didn’t look at him when you said it, but your voice was light. “Dad will always love me…”

“Dad will never hate you.”

Sheepishness took over, making Jake smile. “Dad will never hate me.”

“And. Come talk to me about it if I’ve ever hurt you without noticing so I can make it up to you.”

“Always go to you if I’m hurt and you’re unaware of it.”

“That’s right,” in this form as well, he gave your temple another kiss, heart soaring at your beautiful smile he had been dying to see. “Good girl.”

“You’re giving me a lot of power.”

“Nothing my mighty hunter can’t handle.”

The smile on your face died down. It came to Jake right away what had gone wrong. “Sweetheart—” “I didn’t mean that. You know—” But you didn’t know. Jake had to stop trying to make it easier on himself. “I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you. About everything. About the ikran, I’m so goddamn proud. I said it, and I can’t take that back, I was angry and I was trying reverse psychology — you know what, it doesn’t matter. But you are my mighty hunter. Will always be.”

You got confident a bit, but were still testing the waters. “Well I proved I am.”

“Yes, you did,” he rejoiced, no rejection or doubt whatsoever. “Message received, Lima Charlie.”

You giggled freely, joyfully at the recognition, and Jake ached again remembering how much he’d missed that carefree, precious thing, he swore pixie dust was in it. You slipped from his lap to sit crossed-legged beside him, and he instantly missed being able to hold you close. “Wish you were there to see me.”

“Me too, sweet girl.” Your Iknimaya was a disaster. A long-passed, sacred tradition broken wasn’t as important to him as it was to Neytiri — but he knew she longed to see you complete it, by your side, as eagerly as he did. And you had been alone in your pride, when he knew from a very young age, you had been the most excited for it. Everything had been ruined and there was nothing he could do to undo it. “Will you tell me about it?”

The phantom of pensiveness on his face hadn’t quite registered with you yet, getting excited to tell him all about it like nothing had happened the moment you knew Jake wanted to know. As if you weren’t dead. As if nothing was wrong. “Well first of all, I broke Neteyam’s record.”

A mournful smile tugged on his lips. “Did you now?”

“Hell yeah!” You started gesturing with your arms. “It took, like, two minutes? One minute? Too easy.”

“You know easy means the ikran didn’t give you much of a fight, right?”

“Or, or.” One finger was raised up at him to raise another option. “I was too skilled.”

“The ikran might have been meh about you.” Jake teased. “You sure it chose you? Or did you just chase it down and it was stuck with you?”

“That’s so wrong!” He threw his head back to laugh at your outburst. “He was watching me get there the whole time! Like, from the start. His eye was on me, I just know it. You’re just jealous you didn’t get Bob like I got Jack. I was badass.”

That made him pause. “Jack?”

“Yeah, his name’s Jack.”

He couldn’t imagine Neytiri’s reaction to the blandest name imaginable, oh god. “Why?”

“Named him after you.” You tipped your head at him, raising your brows. “It’s healing, you know. He listens to me without questioning. He’s also very sweet. Unlike a certain someone.”

“Oh you little shit—”

“I didn’t say anything.” Raising your hands in defense first, you crossed your arms on your chest next. “Certain someone can mean anyone. It can mean Lo’jack—”

“Lo’jack, really? Really?” Jake half-snorted, half-scoffed. “This a new one after Lovak?”

“Jackiri—”

“Jackiri is pretty sweet, c’mon now,” he gave a blank stare. “Hope you’re not gonna say Jackeyam.”

“Jacktirey?” You asked, undecided. “She’s an anklebiter.”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Could be Jack the Ripper, Bojack Horseman, Jack-in-a-box. Jack-o-lantern.”

“All people, of course.”

“Yeah, all people.” You snapped your fingers in mock-remembrance. “Hit the road Jack.”

“Oh wow, even him?” Jake lowered his voice, leaning towards you, mocking astonishment. “Legendary figure, that guy.”

“Jack of All Trades.”

“Well, that ikran really seems to be one to me.”

“I know, right?” You stopped, and he saw that thought process, and before he could open his mouth, you blurted it out. “Unlike a certain someone I know.”

“You punk.” Jake pushed you lightly by your shoulder. “You’re pushin’ it.”

You smiled with all your teeth at him, with hands on your calves, leaning down to act cute, and Jake could pretend this was normal. That he’d fixed everything. And all was right in the world now that you were laughing with him — he’d made you smile. .

But suddenly you looked scared, looking at something over his shoulder, shrunken pupils focusing on him and whatever it was rapidly. It kicked him awake from his delusion. He tensed, tail jumping upwards, straight as a rod. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

Your breath hitched, and the next thing he knew, you had pushed him away, and he was falling towards the water. The last thing he saw was only a blur of you — the bioluminescent bugs became shooting stars with a thread of glow left behind them, the whole world tilted, but he didn’t hit the water, instead, he rolled down the small slope he had to climb to reach the tree.

Disoriented, he saw the root was almost split in half — bullet marks, a cloud of splinters and debris was flying around where he used to be sitting.

A lone avatar just ahead. Having made it all the way to the Tree of Souls. He didn’t know where this man had come from.

Heart picking up and roaring in his ears, all Jake could think about was, One chance.

He hadn’t even spoken to you properly yet, hadn’t said all the things he wanted to, hadn't even gotten your word, and this man — this son of a bitch — humans had taken you once again.

Once again.

You will only have one chance.

“Lucky asshole,” the man looked at him behind the barrel of the long assault rifle. “Gonna make you pay for what you pulled yesterday.”

Your ethereal smile going up in smokes at the back of his head, Jake saw red.

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis@alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily@n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

@thotd-f1 @httpjiikook @nipoxe @fussel9913 @gloryekaterina @nxptury @thesheelfsworld @heyyitsmaiaa @anyasullyyy @rey26 @in-luvais @em-100 @n7cje @kpopslur @holysaladapricothero @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @maviee @grxcisxhy-wp @me-marilm @n39ro-chann

#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader

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slasher-male-wife · 1 year

Text

Slashers with an airhead s/o

I like to joke that I'm a bit of an airhead which is kinda true at times. I'm playing this up a bit for fun.

Includes: Pyramid head, Patrick Bateman, Hannibal Lecter, and Bo Sinclair

Warnings: Talk of murder and violence, Slashers kinda manipulating reader

Pyramid Head

When he first meets you he's going to think that you're too dumb to kill and too dumb to let you go. He's surprised that you haven't died yet to be honest.

You're going to have to go with him wherever he goes or stay in a safe place just in case something bad happens. He doesn't want you getting hurt.

He can't talk or use his voice at all but sometimes he wishes he could sigh in response to some of your questions or laugh at some of the things that you do like running into walls or failing to put something together.

He knows that you're smarter in certain areas more than others. He knows you're not totally helpless but when he had to rescue you from a room for the fifth time that week because you forgot how to unlock it he's going to be worried.

Patrick Bateman

Your airhead tendencies is part of the reason he's dating you. He was going to kill you at first but when you looked at him holding an ax and wearing a rain coat and you just smiled and asked "Is it raining outside?" He knew that he couldn't kill you.

Will constantly remind you of things you often forget. Will probably feel the need to help you with almost everything that you do. "Honey you're right handed, why are you using your left hand to cut the vegetables?" "Darling the tapes go in with the title facing us."

He's pretty happy that you're kind of an airhead because he doesn't have to worry about you figuring out he kills people. It's also easy to get your attention with pretty objects and to keep you occupied while he works.

Feels a little proud of your more smart moments. I feel like when you're able to have a basic conversation about stocks with him after he's explained them to you at least 30 times he's going to smile about it. "So I saw in the paper that stock prices are going up. That's a good thing right?" "It is honey. I'm glad you remembered.

Hannibal Lecter

Like Patrick he's going to take advantage of you being an airhead. You'll have questions about the meat he's serving but you'll just accept that it's some kind of cow organ or duck.

He'll laugh at your more airhead moments. Or at least smile. He'll walk in on your doing the L hand thing for left and right for the third time that day and he'll smile about it.

Will also use his money to keep you occupied. He'll use it as rewards in a way too. If you're excelling in learning a new skill or subject he'll treat you with something expensive.

If anyone is ever mean to you about how you're not the sharpest he's going to take care of them. Nobody is going to insult his s/o even if they are a little dumb.

Bo Sinclair

Bo isn't the smartest person either but it's a little comical to him how dumb you are. He's surprised you didn't crash your car on the way here. "Whens the last time you had your oil changed?" "You're supposed to change it?" He's going to quickly decide that he can't kill you.

Like mostly everyone on this list he like that you're a little dumb. He's surprised he even had to tell you that he kills people when you literally broke a finger off a figure and said "You guys but bones in your figures?"

Like Hannibal he will defend you against anyone who tries to make you feel bad for being on the dumber side. He knows you're an airhead but only he can mention it.

Will help you learn more basic knowledge so you can help around the house and stuff like that. He's probably almost had a stroke several times while trying to explain to you that you can't use cooking oil on cars, on different occasions.

#pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x you #patrick bateman x reader #hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair x you

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deadbydad-writes · 5 months

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Punk!Miguel x Ballet!Reader. Reader invites Miguel over to her parents for winter break. They sleep in separate rooms, but in the middle of the night, Miguel sneaks into her childhood bedroom and fucks her as she struggles to keep quiet. If you could include both daddy/mommy kink and breeding kink (the idea of Miguel getting her pregnant in her childhood bed, while under her parents roof, is just so hot for some reason), that be wonderful ❤️

This could also work for Ice Skater! Reader x Hockey Player! Miguel, either or would be fine with me. Whatever’s easier for you ☺️

I LOVE THIS!

You didn't know if bringing your boyfriend Miguel to your parents' place for the day was a good thing or a bad thing.

You had been nervous and terrified when your parents asked if Miguel would be able to come and stay during the winter break, but you said yes anyway since you thought it was time that they met him anyway.

You and Miguel were different types of people. He was a punk and you did ballet, there really wasn't more that you could say. Miguel was always quiet and seemed annoyed with everyone while you always had a smile on your face and loved talking to people. You guys were polar opposites, but that' what probably attracted you to each other, and you were okay with that.

When you guys had made it to your parents house and settled in, you were scared about how your parents would feel and think about Miguel. You had never dated a guy like him before let alone brought one home, so you didn't know what to expect.

But, to your surprise and relief, your parents loved Miguel. He helped your mom cook dinner and even helped your dad cut wood for the fireplace. Hell, your dad told him that he approved of Miguel, which you didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but you didn't ask. It made you happy that your parents liked him.

When it was time for bed you and Miguel had been placed in separate rooms that night. Miguel would sleep in the guest room and you would stay in the bedroom you grew up in.

Your room was pink with little ballerina's painted on the walls and the pillowcases on your bed were white with pink dots and your blanket was a baby pink shade. You were still small enough to fit in your old bed. Your bedroom had thin walls so when you had laid down you turned the volume on your phone way down while watching a movie.

Everything was silent...for about an hour.

It seemed that Miguel didn't like the fact that you slept in a separate room from him because about thirty minutes after your parents had gone to bed, he made his way out of the guest room and into your room, shutting the door and locking it behind him.

At first you thought that he just wanted to cuddle...but you were so wrong.

And this is how you found yourself laying underneath him with your face buried into the soft pillows underneath you to quiet your moans that threatened to escape past your lips, his large hands gripping your hips as he pounded into your tight wet heat from behind, his bare back pressed against your own and he kissed the skin on your neck and shoulders.

"Look at you," he whispered into your ear with a dark chuckle. "Taking my cock so well, even on your childhood bed.

He grabbed you by the hair and turned your head to the side so he could crash his lips against your own, instantly licking into the cavern of your mouth with a growl.

"Daddy," you whined against his lips, the pleasure from the tip if his cock hitting that one spot inside you that made you see stars was starting to hurt in the most amazing way possible. You closed your eyes as you felt one of his hands move from your hip to lay on your flat stomach.

"Is it bad that I want to get you pregnant on your old bed?" Miguel let out another growl and started to fucking into you harder.

You let out a moan at his words and the thought.

"You would look so good, round and full with my babies," he groaned into the crook of your neck, his hips still grinding against yours as he nibbled on your neck. "Gonna be such a good mami for your papi, aren't you mi amor?"

You nodded your head desperately, too cock-drunk to form an actual response. You couldn't help but think about his words, about how you would look with your belly all swollen with Miguels children.

He would take such good care of you and your babies, keep you and them safe.

Finally, after a few seconds later, you felt his movements come to a halt as his cum filled you up, his cock still inside you to make sure none of it came out. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you came on his cock from the feeling.

"Gonna be such a good mami," Miguel whispered into your ear and pressed gentle kissed along your neck and jaw as he spooned you from behind.

You closed your eyes and put a hand on your stomach, a smile on your face at the thought of his babies growing inside of you.

And sure, maybe your parents did ask you about the noises from last night and the marks on your neck, but they wouldn't care when in about a month after then you and Miguel would tell them that you're expecting triplets.

Maybe bringing Miguel to meet your parents for the winter break was a good thing after all.

Holy fuck my fingers hurt, but I enjoyed writing this!

Honestly, kind of want to do a part two to this with the reader being pregnant with the triplets...what do you, the one who requested this and the lovely people who are reading this, what do you guys think? Should I make a part two? It probably won't be smutty but send anything you want to see in my inbox!

#miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman #miguel x reader #atsv

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nahoney22 · 2 months

Note

Hey :) I Hope this isn’t too late but I have a fic proposal.

Clones should have a lot of scars and propbably some insecurities, considering that to most people they meet they are ‚just clones‘. I was thinking about a female reader worshipping either Hunter’s or Wolffes/Echoes (I love my grumpy men) body. I think it is a cute idea to make them feel appreciated and loved. It can be NSFW or SFW, whatever mood you’re in.

I also have seen the prompts „i'm not scared of anything except losing you“ and „ I am truly and unconditionally in love with you“ . They don’t have to be included tho

Congrats on 4k followers! You deserve it so much Honey

Byee

4000 Prompt List Celebration

Wolffe X F!Reader

SFW

word count: 937 words

prompts:

“I’m not scared of anything except losing you.”

“I am truly and unconditionally in love with you.”

warnings: Angst and fluff, cuddling, talks of war and scars, light angst, female reader, established relationship, comfort, shirtless Wolffe, Spoilers for the latest episodes (6&7).

authors note: well seeing as we saw Wolffe so recently it’s only fair I pick this request. Sorry for the wait and hope you enjoy anon 🤍

You awaken to the subtle shift of your bed dipping, drawing you from the haze of dreams. A gentle breeze hints at an open balcony, likely your Commander's doing.

You shift, eyes flicking to the chrono on your bedside table that reads the early hours of the morning before rolling onto you right, facing him.

He’s silent, usual. Shirtless, also a common sight, yet his shoulders bear an unusual weight. "Darling," your voice rasps with sleep, "is everything alright?"

He remains silent, a restless energy vibrating through him as his knee bounces with an unspoken tension. As your hand finds its place on the center of his bare back, a calming touch, his movements still, tension melting away.

"I saw Rex today," he finally speaks, the words carrying a weight you hadn't anticipated.

Your eyes widen, and you sit up abruptly. "Rex? I thought he died in a crash!" The unexpected revelation catches you off guard.

When things took a turn for a worse, you were discarded by this new ‘Empire’ yet Wolffe remained. Your relationship was a secret of course and things had been hard for the both of you. You didn’t agree with these new terms and what Wolffe was doing yet he felt obliged to do his duty. To be a good soldier.

Yet, at nights like this where he would sneak into your home when he should be in his own barracks, you always felt the heavy burden of whatever it was weighing on him.

"So did I... but there he was," he sighs, moonlight casting an ethereal glow on his cybernetic eye and scar. "A deserter, harboring a target the Empire seeks."

Your heartbeat quickens, anxiety gripping your thoughts. "You didn't harm him, did you?"

"No," he responds, a low rumble. "I let him go."

In a hushed tone, you respond, "Oh, well that’s a relief,” as you shift onto your knees directly behind him, offering a supportive presence.

Anticipating a bitter retort, you're surprised when he merely sighs, his head bowing as he falls into a contemplative silence.

Observing his stillness, your eyes trace a new wound on his back, joining the collection of scars. "How did this happen?" you inquire softly, your finger gently tracing the red mark destined to become another scar over time.

"Who knows? Falling from a cliff, getting shot by a civilian, crushed by rocks," he grumbles dismissively.

Moving closer, you delicately wrap your arms around his front, resting your cheek against his back. "Are you in pain?" you inquire, concern lacing your words.

He shakes his head, his hands finding yours to convey appreciation for the comfort. Though not one to seek coddling, the weight of the day has left him in need of solace. "No."

In a moment of necessary silence, a sudden wave of insecurity overtakes him. "Does it uh... look bad?" he hesitates, seeking reassurance.

"The wound?" you clarify.

He nods.

"No."

"Are you lying to me?"

"Wolffe," you interject firmly, gently squeezing his hands, "you know I wouldn't lie to you. We've discussed this. I promise it doesn't look bad."

His jaw tightens, a brief struggle visible on his face, but then he relaxes, allowing your words to penetrate. The scar on his face, a constant reminder, had often made him feel exposed and unattractive. Yet, your consistent reassurances that you saw him differently provided a balm for his insecurities.

“Each scar tells a story, a battle won,” you whisper, kissing his new wound as well as the small scars that littered the rest of his back and what you could see, “a battle lost…” He closes his eyes, knowing what scar you were referring to but allows you to continue. “You’re handsome. Nothing will ever change that or how I love you.”

He bites on the inside of his cheek, his face warming up by the softness of your lips against his skin in the moonlight and your sweet words that had him hooked from the start.

"Are you scared?" you suddenly inquire, and he turns his head, prompting you to move back while still maintaining the embrace. "That they'll find out you let the target get away?"

"I'm not scared of anything," he asserts with stern resolve, but a softness overtakes his expression. "Except losing you."

You offer a soft smile, leaning in to press your lips to his cheek. "Sweet, but I'm serious. Are you not concerned?"

His brow furrows, a hint of reluctance coloring his response. "I won't lie and say I'm not apprehensive. Kark, it wouldn't surprise me if they're already looking for me to reprimand. Or worse."

A twist of unease settles in your stomach, his words weighing heavily on your mind. Tears glisten in your eyes, and he realises his misstep. Without hesitation, he shifts to fully face you, reclining on the bed with his back against the headboard, pulling you close to his chest. "Let's not dwell on that. I'm sorry for waking you."

You roll your eyes at his attempt to deflect the gravity of the situation, but decide to take comfort in his presence for now.

As the soft sound of your snores fills the room, he finds solace in your embrace. He strokes your hair tenderly, a soft smile gracing his lips as he watches you succumb to sleep. "Beautiful girl," he murmurs, a sentiment he wouldn't express while you're awake, not one for overt displays of affection.

Before slipping away into the night, he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his voice barely above a whisper. "I am truly and unconditionally in love with you."

Masterlist

Prompt List Works

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @mssbridgerton @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness @thiswitchloves9904

#commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #wolffe x you #nahoney22 writes #clone trooper one shot #star wars #tbb

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dailyadventureprompts · 2 months

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DM Tip: Creating a Campaign Skeleton

Learning to be a better dungeonmaster was a protracted process. A younger me was often so stressed out by the desire to be a better artist that I'd have legitimately mauled a person if it would've revealed to me the wisdom I sought (with my hands or even an actual maul given the chance).

One of my biggest hurdles was the idea of a universal framework for d&d adventures, a guideline that would tell me if the things I was creating were on the right track. It was sorely needed, I loved the process of being creative but without an understanding of how my creative energy was best used I ended up sinking days, weeks, or even months worth of energy into projects that went nowhere. Worse yet, when I DID get a chance to put my ideas into practice at the table they'd frequently spiral out of control and crash, resulting in even more stress.

Over time I learned from these mistakes, I got better, and then I got good. I moved from conscious incompetence to competence, and I ended up having a run of absolutely stellar campaigns that were everything my younger self could have dreamed of: stable, enjoyable, meaningful, and most importantly an absolute delight to my players. Routinely I'd have people, including folks that'd only played with me a few times, mention that getting together to roll dice and listen to me babel on in silly voices was a highlight of their week.

It was as one of these campaigns began to wind down (three years! a satisfying conclusion on the horizon!) and I started looking for a followup scenario that I decided to study all my really successful campaigns and figure out what connected them. The end result was something I'd been looking for for nearly a decade, a reliable format that I could build campaigns around.

I want to preface this section with the understanding that while this information is laid out in a vaguely chronological fashion there's no guarantee that these ideas will occur to you in any particular order. Inspiration is a funny thing, and each idea flows into the others to make a cohesive whole. Due to foreshadowing and setup reasons you're also going to need a pretty solid idea about all of these when starting a campaign, though exact details will likely change/ can be vague up until the moment they're needed.

The Reason: Who are we and what are we doing?

Gives your players a solid background to build their characters around and give them a reason to travel together, rather than having to ad lib one on the spot. Likewise sets expectations of what the campaign is "about" that you can build on or subvert in time. The reason doesn't need to hold true for the entire game, just long enough to serve as a framing device. EG: The Witcher starts out as a "monster of the week" setup and then uses that framework to pivot into politics and prophecy once we've seen the premise play out.

The Pilot/Crashtest Adventure: What's first?

I’ve already written about these, but the general concept is to give your party a mostly contained first outing that doesn’t have any larger bearing on the plot so they can focus on learning how their characters play/building the party dynamic. By the time the party's finished this first adventure they'll have already started putting down roots in the world: they'll have in jokes, npcs they've started to care about, an understanding of what's on the horizon, and an idea of where they want to go next.

The Central Gameplay Pillar: How does this all work?

It's important to have an idea what your campaign is going to be about in a mechanical sense in addition to its plot and themes. There is a difference between an adventure that has the party delve a dungeon, and a dungeoncrawling focused campaign. I like to lead with these outright during the campaign pitch so that players can know what they're getting into. Your playgroup will likely have strong opinions about what they like and dislike, even if they don't have the words to describe it, so you might need to explain the ideas for them.

The Hub: Where are we?

I think every good campaign has a hub, some kind of settlement that the party returns to between adventures to offload loot, pick up supplies, and sift through the latest gossip to look for the next questhook. Letting the party return to the same place lets them build up a relationship with it, clarifying the picture in their mind as new details are added and they grow more and more attached. It's possible to have multiple hubs over the course of a campaign, but I'd advise really only having one per arc to best concentrate your efforts. Fill up your hub with distractions and side adventures, shorter stories that the party can get tangled up in while the larger adventure slowly reveals itself. Returning to the same hub also means returning to a familiar and expanding cast of NPCs, which helps your party become more and more invested in the setting

The Main Event: What's going to happen?

Here we get to the meat of the issue, the big story you want to be telling using this campaign. To pull off the sick narrative kickflip you wish to perform, you're going to need to lay a lot of groundwork, seeding in details left and right as well as giving the party a chance to stumble across evidence of your schemes without ever realizing the whole thing. To do this, you're going to work in the building blocks of your big reveal/twist/pending disaster into the setting along with those side adventures from the hub. This will give your party an idea that something is going on, but with more pressing matters to take care of they're going to be distracted up until the moment you decide to pull the trigger.

The Setting: What's over there?

While things like genre and tone are definitely things you should have a handle on from the outset, I personally feel like the details of a setting are best constructed on an ad hoc basis, either in a direct response to something required by part of the narrative (be it side story or main event), or pencilled in at the margins as the party explores the world.. That said, creation of the hub and setting often go hand in hand because it's important to match the settlement to the environment and then shape the environment to the quests inside the settlement. As for what's beyond your hub, I happen to have just written something about building out settings.

Now, this next option is one that I recommend you start thinking about only once your campaign is fully underway, so it doesn't clog up your creative process by focusing on something that you might not even get to

The Change: What the fuck?

A little while after the main event has kicked off and your party is off on the quest that will turn them from mere adventurers into heroes, they start to hear rumours of strange happenings. It's certainly not related to the present scenario, it may even be an unexpected windfall, but it's not something they have time to look into. Time ticks on, the land is saved, and the party is able to enjoy their victory lap as well as some dearly needed time off. Before they can get comfortable however they're slammed by some strange occurrence that they could have never predicted that changes the state of the world. A neighbouring kingdom invades, an important ally is murdered and they're blamed for it, a dragon starts rampaging through the realm. Its important that this event is outside the party's skillset, not necessarily diametrically opposed, but counter to what they were planning

artsource

#dm tip #dm advice #writing #dm tips #writing advice #campaign skeleton

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phantomrose96 · 9 months

Text

I’ve not finished the game yet but making Louie the absolutely OP antagonist of the post-game was the funniest thing they could have done, I’ve decided.

First off we’re not even sure why he’s here. Presumably he was sent to rescue Olimar by their boss and then crash-landed himself. And instead of being turned into a helpless castaway like literally everyone else including people whose very profession is rescue crew, this galactic truck driver carved out his own survival through sheer unrestrained violence and voracious predation of literally all the wildlife 100s of times his size and eager to kill him.

And also presumably he realized he liked this way way better and that if he continued to play dead he’d never have to go back to work and can live out his days causing mass extinctions in the name of eating everything that dares to be organic. This decision came with saying “fuck Olimar, I guess.”

Did Louie even HAVE pikmin before running into Moss in the post-game? Was he just ripping and tearing things apart with his ant-sized appendages? Killing bulblaxes with teeth and finger nails? He must have run into Dandori Olimar along the way. Did he just look at the undead monstrosity of his former coworker he was sent here to save and go “bro seems fine. Peace.” Theyre truck drivers your honor.

And then in the post-game Olimar is like “hey Louie it’s me! I’m alive!” and Louie fucking high tails it out of there. WITH A HOSTAGE. Because ???????

Is he afraid if Olimar gets home he’s gonna tell their boss on him and Louie’s gonna be dragged back to Hocotate? I don’t think that’s what’s happening because it requires too much foresight and planning from Louie. This man does not think. This man only knows bastardry and violence. I think he ignores Olimar over the intercom because even he doesn’t know what’s happening. This leads me to believe he takes hostages just because. And steals from them just because. He’s discovered a planet where being an absolute bastard is its own reward, and in the place where dozens of others greater than him have crashed and fallen weak and fallen stranded and even died, Louie thrives. Louie becomes your biggest nightmare.

This man eats bugs.

#pikmin #pikmin 4 #pikmin 4 spoilers #chrissy plays pikmin 4 #chrissy talks pikmin

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nonegenderleftpain · 2 years

Text

To all the new, young MCR fans out there who are just finding them during this tour - you will never know what it was like to be a fan back before and during the hiatus.

And that's a good thing.

I have been following My Chemical Romance since I was ten years old. MCR was the band that the freaks liked. The band that young queer kids were called fags and dykes for liking. Someone once called them the "poster child for suicidal depression," and they aren't wrong. We watched the band struggle with drugs and drinking and idolized how much they were able to do while blackout on tour, because if they could do something so powerful at such a disadvantage, then maybe we could, too. We watched the popularization of "guyliner," because having a term for men wearing makeup could make it an ironic fashion statement instead of a deliberate choice that would get you left bloody and unconscious on the floor of a gas station bathroom. We watched these guys destroy themselves, and we saw ourselves in them because we were destroyed, too. We wanted to believe that we could be just as important, no matter how broken we were, and we found shared experiences at concerts and cafeterias and skate parks and libraries, with other fucked up kids that wanted to listen to the guys that didn't care if people called them gay. The guys that made out on stage to the jeers of thousands of people and got bottles of piss thrown at them but kept doing it anyway. The guys that played with gender and sexuality and everything on the fringes of acceptability, in their lyrics and their performance and the way they treated each other.

This was important. It was life-saving. It provided a comparatively safe space in an unsafe cultural environment for the freaks to find comfort in. It was also hugely and dangerously unhealthy.

I've talked at length to my friends about how healing and lifechanging this tour has been for me, and I want to illuminate that for these young fans that are falling in love with MCR like I did when I was their age. When we were kids, most of our heroes were already dead. They died young, had tragic lives, and we saw ourselves in them. I fully believed MCR would end up the same way. It would have been so easy to be martyrs - to die young and beautiful. Gerard said it himself, back in the day, that MCR was destined to die young in a car crash and stay beautiful forever, and I think he truly believed that.

So they broke up. And, like a miracle, things started to change. They got clean. Got married. Had kids. Not just Gee, but the lot of them. They aged out of the 27 club, and then out of their 30s, and they only seemed to continue to thrive. Today, in 2022, Gerard Way is 45 years old. He has wrinkles. He has a daughter who is older now than I was when she was born. And they are touring again.

The cultural change from when I was a teenager to now, when you guys are, is monumental. It's insane. It's fantastic. Back in the day, Gerard made some occasional comments about playing with gender presentation (that all us trans people, including those of us that didn't even know yet, hunted down and cherished and kept in our chests for safekeeping), but the idea of doing something so flagrant as headlining Riot Fest in a dress was ludicrous. It would have gotten him booed (still did, even now). It could have gotten him killed. The fact that Gerard Way has stepped on stage three separate times this tour in a dress (so far! it's not over!) is such an incredible, monumental change from when I was a kid and I am so, so happy for you to be experiencing it as kids.

I had a cry about this at a P!ATD concert in 2018, after seeing preteens running down the halls in pride flags, and I feel even more strongly about it now than I did then. That you're able to talk openly about Gerard's gender performance without fear, that you're able to hear them go by he/they pronouns, that you're able to interact with other young fans in the wake of MCR's revival in a safe environment and take in the messages that are at the core of what they stand for? These are beautiful fucking things.

You can't know what it was like, growing up with MCR back in the day. But you get to know what it's like to grow up with them now. Cherish that. In Detroit, Gerard told us to take our meds, and reminded us that we made it. They made it. They fought through the hard parts, fought the demons, and came out the other side better for it. As you watch them put those demons to rest from concert to concert, know that there are older fans cheering you on, so fucking happy to see you sharing this experience with us, and so excited to see what way this changes you. We know it changed us.

#my chemical romance #mcr #mcr 2022 #my chem #gerard way #gender stuff #music stuff #mcr are my heroes and i dont use that word lightly #this tour has only further cemented my deep respect for them as performers and as people #seeing them so full of joy and life is so novel and i dont think it will ever feel like anything short of a miracle

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skygemspeaks · 8 months

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okay let's do this again, for the last time this season, and what a way to end it!

i like that nami got to be included in the walk to arlong park, it was really nice!

the banter between zoro and sanji is already quite funny. i like that sanji is just earnestly trying to be part of the crew, but zoro's being a little bit bitchy because he feels like his place as the first mate is being threatened. later on in the episode when sanji starts calling out his move names, and zoro makes fun of him for it...how much do you wanna bet that the reason zoro starts calling out his attack names because his thought process is like "oh no, the shitty cook is also calling out his attack names what if luffy starts liking him better than me because i don't do it?"

as someone with dental trauma, seeing arlong's teeth fall out one by one was horrifying, thank you very much. it was well done

the fights in this arc were well choreographed, and i'm actually really happy that they all finished by around halfway through the episode because then we got a good amount of time to wrap everything up

it was really sweet when nami went running up to tackle usopp and zoro in a hug. i did feel a bit bad for sanji, but ehh it's understandable. she's been sailing with usopp and zoro for a while now! those are her boys!!!! and she didn't think she'd ever be able to sail with them again! she barely even knows sanji at this point

the scene after the tower comes crashing down and the straw hats are all waiting to see if luffy made it is great. nami looks like her whole world is ending again, because first she lost her mother, and now she might have lost her captain. and then everyone's relief when they see luffy come out is palpable! sanji doesn't even try to hide his relief! he's become so emotionally invested in this crew already and he's known them for just a few days

sanji's smugness when zoro comes back for seconds was cute, and i love their banter afterwards!

koby and helmeppo standing up to garp when they disagree with his orders was a good scene, and i liked their conversation about it afterwards at the end of the episode. each marine's personal code of justice is a big theme in the anime, and i like that they establish it here, and that it's what impresses garp enough to make him want to train them personally

we finally got the luffy vs garp confrontation! it was a good way to see just how small luffy is in the grand scheme of things, that he wasn't able to hurt garp at all. when luffy starts laughing and garp drops him and starts laughing as well, it was a good tension break. i really really wish that we got at least one grandpa hug before garp left...i know it never happened in the manga, but i crave that grandfatherly affection for luffy. but i know neither of these two idiots are like that. ace better fucking hug luffy at least once next season i s2g.

when nami is talking to bellemere's grave, and nojiko shows up wearing bellemere's shirt.....🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

the final conversation with luffy and koby was adorable! i loved the hug! also, i really like that koby was the first one to show luffy his bounty. a great way of coming full circle to the beginning of the season when he's standing next to luffy, looking at the notice board in shells town and luffy asks where his face is

the scenes where people see luffy's bounty!!!! makino grinning in pride!! kaya already looking healthier without kuro's poison! Zeff posting luffy's poster on the employee of the month board!!!!!!!! alvida and buggy meeting!!!! (if they make alvida lose weight or recast her next season i'm gonna kill someone)

helmeppo finally admitted that koby was his friend!!!! their little fistbump!! i've really come to like koby over the course of this season, and it's been great seeing his character arc

the mihawk and shanks conversation was great! shanks making jokes about his missing arm was hilarious, i love how irreverent he is

the redhair pirates are all SO proud when they see luffy's poster!!! and shanks' big, goofy, proud grin when as he stares at the poster just made my heart melt.

merry finally gets to fly the straw hat jolly roger again, i'm so happy for her!! luffy's absolute uncontainable joy at the sight of it, like he can't believe his eyes, was absolutely perfect!

the cast-off ceremony was fantastic! i really like the effect they did where their younger selves spoke in the voices of their older selves.

i could be wrong, but i think i heard we are in that last scene as they sailed off? which, amazing!

FUCK YEAH THAT LAST SHOT OF SMOKER!!! i can't wait to see more of him next season!!!

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autistichalsin · 3 months

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I have tried to avoid discourse around this ever since November, but since people are once again upset at the ultimatum (which doesn't seem to trigger in game yet, though it has been voiced) I guess I will offer my defense of Halsin.

A lot of the anger at Halsin here boils down to "he's against Minthara, therefore fuck Halsin," ignoring that Halsin has very good reasons to not trust her. (And also purposeful misinterpretation of his comments about HER to be about all Drow).

So first of all: We need to look at what has happened to Halsin in his life before arriving at this point.

Yes, obviously, there is his captivity with a Drow noble house, but I think people are kind of just forgetting what that means here. It isn't "he hates all Drow now because of his trauma", which is an almost insultingly reductive take. Minthara is from House Baenre, the top house of Menzoberranzan for centuries. She is at LEAST 200 years old, and likely older; she witnessed the downfall of House DeVir, and was old enough for her to fully understand it, but "young enough that it left quite an impression on me", likely placing her between 200 and 300 years old. Halsin is 350, and was kidnapped as a young Druid- likely between 100 and 175. There is a very good chance that Minthara was a young adult when he was a captive, and he would have heard about her evil actions long before encountering her in the goblin camp. He would know who she was before the tadpole.

Halsin was a captive for at least a few days if not longer, tortured in his bear form (the goblin lashers are mentioned at least a few times, not to mention rocks being thrown at him, Gut mentioning threatening to cut him open and put maggots in his belly, etc), and had his Grove threatened by Minthara.

Most important, and most easy to miss: this ultimatum is planned for if the Rite of Thorns is carried out, hence the reference to Kagha's foolishness. He has lost his home, his place of worship, and the people he considers his family forever. Watch his reaction after you tell him the Rite has been carried out; his world comes crashing down, he lets out the tiniest "the Rite of Thorns? no", and he is so upset he no longer asks you to take out the leaders. He says he needs to be alone for a while. He is grieving the loss of everything he had, everything that got him through the loss of his original family, and it is directly because of the Cult of the Absolute.

Now, let me go through some rebuttals to arguments in Minthara's favor.

She doesn't mean Halsin any harm at this point.

Rebuttal: Halsin has no way of knowing this. Her actions have already demonstrated otherwise- she has caused him harm. He has no tadpole to see her true intentions, like the other players, and Minthara doesn't make her case particularly well. She simply says she "has no quarrel" with him. Not an apology for his sufferings in the past or the loss of his home. If she doesn't regret the harm she caused him, he has no reason to trust her.

And of course, Minthara DOESN'T feel any remorse, whether or not she raids the Grove; if she does succeed, she'll later say her only regret is not making the choice to do it herself. Because she is evil and that's how evil characters work.

2. Halsin works with Shadowheart/Lae'zel/Astarion/an evil-aligned player; Halsin is willing to sleep with the Seldarine Drow twins; Halsin is forgiving and wants a better world for all, this should clearly include Minthara too.

Rebuttal: by rescuing him and saving the Grove, the former four have shown themselves to be capable of good deeds. He is very consistent that his one redline is DO NOT FUCK WITH HIS GROVE. If you DO NOT FUCK WITH HIS GROVE, he will give you the benefit of the doubt. If you FUCK WITH HIS GROVE, he is done with you; if the player raids the Grove, he will hunt them down and attack them, no matter what the player tries to talk him out of it.

FURTHER, he very much calls the party out on any future evil deeds they do (I.E. Shadowheart slaying the Nightsong if she's on the Shar path), and will leave the party if the player sinks their approval low enough.

The Drow twins are Seldarine, not Lolthsworn, and having a one-night-stand is very different than trusting someone as an ally.

The "wanting a better world for all" thing is of course subject to the paradox of tolerance. In the epilogue, it is very specifically mentioned that their commune is "hidden from those who are not welcome, open to any who need shelter." I.E. those who want to cause harm are not welcome to it, because the "better world for all" can't allow, by design, those who DON'T want a better world for all.

3. Halsin hates her because she's a Drow.

He specifically mentions Lolth-sworn Drow here. "Cruelty comes to Lolth's followers as naturally as breathing. I have seen it- experienced it." Minthara literally only abandoned those ways because she was abandoned by Lolth first- only when it suited her.

She still supports all the same teachings (which is why she openly insults surface elf players the first time they meet, and will tell an elf player who becomes a mindflayer that it was an "improvement"), and she uses slurs against surface elves to boot. Minthara is far more racist against surface elves than Halsin EVER is against Drow.

4. Halsin is condemning Minthara to a fate worse than death (unspoken: out of spite) and this makes him not a good person.

Halsin fully believes Minthara to be a threat to himself and the player. He says in as many words that if it's a choice between Minthara's freedom and the player's, he picks the player. In his eyes, it's a choice between Minthara's freedom and the fate of the world since he knows the player is the only one who can defeat the Absolute. He's in a dilemma similar to the player having to decide whether to let Orpheus die or turn the Emperor into an enemy- it's just that people don't realize because we have meta-knowledge, as players, that Halsin doesn't.

5. That "viper" comment is hypocritical.

He isn't referring to Drow as a whole. He is referring to Minthara herself.

Remember, he knew Kagha before she went bad, and knew she was capable of better (better enough that he made her his second in command). All he would know of Minthara was what she did in the Underdark as a Baenre (including owning slaves, which I'm sure didn't do her any favors), what she nearly did to his Grove, what she allowed to happen to him, and that she's now claiming to have changed when showing zero remorse or actual interest in changing anything. Perhaps it was wrong for him to phrase it it as "cannot" change instead of "will not" change for her, but the sentiment is spot on. Minthara doesn't fundamentally change in any path the player brings her on- what changes is, at best, who she considers it acceptable to subjugate.

6. Halsin has no stakes here, it's wrong for him to demand Minthara go when she has more to lose.

Again, Halsin views Minthara as an existential threat to their plan to save the world. He is lacking in personal stakes by comparison, but remember; he also has lost the only home he knows. That is no small thing.

(From a meta perspective, I do think they should have done something like mention the Shadow Druids/Ketheric Thorm loyalists are still hunting Halsin, just to make it more fair, but this was clearly written with the main goal of enforcing the exclusivity. And honestly, I can't imagine all that many people actually want both in the same party on every playthrough? Mostly I saw people wanting to recruit Minthara on good playthroughs, and wanting to not have to abandon the Shadow Cursed Lands to darkness; many of the people I saw expressing this specifically said they wanted to dismiss Halsin after accomplishing that. This seemed like exactly what those players would have wanted, being able to spare the Grove, free the SCL, and then dismiss Halsin and travel with Minthara.)

7. Halsin owes the player his unquestioning trust after they saved him/his Grove/broke the Shadow Curse. He has no right to question their judgment.

This... really isn't a good way to think? He shows his gratitude by traveling with them to help (when he has no tadpole at all- he's doing this out of pure selflessness to thank the player for helping him), but that doesn't mean he should stop having thoughts on the goings-on. Where is this energy when other characters continuously question your judgment when you have them wait at camp?

8. Halsin is being stupid by allowing her to go be mind controlled by the Absolute.

This is one I will concede. It's not the wisest decision, and I can only guess it's because they didn't want to write Minthara automatically going aggro on the player if they choose Halsin over her. (I, on the other hand, think that would be brilliant, and would be a mark in Halsin's favor for this choice.)

9. This is manipulation of the player.

Halsin wishes the player the best, and leaves without fuss, if they choose Minthara over him; he thanks them for all they've done, and he even says he hopes he's wrong, but cannot stay to find out. He is being sincere; he believes he, and probably the player, will be killed if Minthara stays, which in turn puts the fate of the world in question. He will accept the player's decision if they choose her, but he feels threatened and won't stay himself. This is a boundary, not manipulation, not malice, not anything else.

10. Halsin comes across as uncompromising/unsympathetic; this is OOC for Halsin/ruins his character; he is being selfish; other assorted similar sentiments

I already addressed most of the other arguments with the points above, but I will say, truthfully: I don't find this particularly OOC at all. He has been very clear that his one and only rule is DO NOT FUCK WITH THE GROVE. Minthara fucked with the Grove. He has no reason to trust her. And he has ALSO been incredibly consistent: if you are in a situation where it's someone else or you, you have every right to choose to save yourself. He shows sympathy if Wyll has to let Ravengard die, he doesn't blame the player if they kill EVERY DRUID IN THE GROVE to save the Tieflings, he doesn't even blame the player if they order Orin-as-Lae'zel to kill Yenna, an innocent child he was very attached to. He is devastated at the latter two, clearly, but he blames the Druids for the second for forgetting their principles, and he blames Orin for the latter for making the trap. This is perfectly in line with his Druidic beliefs; you have every right to protect yourself first and foremost.

I get that a lot of people don't like the ultimatum (worth noting is that this has always been part of the series; in the first two games, characters of different alignments would outright refuse to work with each other), but it really doesn't make Halsin look as bad as people say, and I feel like a lot of people are being really callous/dismissive/reductive to what Halsin has been through here.

#halsin #halsin silverbough #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months

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wibta if i straight up told my s/o they can’t bring their dog when they move in with me?

i (early 20s ftm) and my partner (late 20s nb) are moving in together next year. we’ve been planning this for a couple of years now, but it’s been taking a while to plan out because we live on different continents and we needed to sort out visas, travel, work situation, and getting an apartment for us for when they arrive.

importantly to this story, my s/o has a dog. this dog is large and VERY loud - barking 24/7 at everything, crashing into furniture, loud whining, pushing people over, and growling at people who get too close to s/o.; this has included me whenever i visit.

the apartment we got has a one pet policy and all of our neighbours are elderly people as the building used to be assisted living (basically housing for the elderly where they have direct lines to nurses and disability accommodations). it’s a pretty small block, it’ll just be us, one guy across the hall, one woman directly below us, and one across the hall from her.

because of this, as soon as we got the apartment we realised we wouldn’t be able to feasibly take s/o’s dog. she’s too big for the apartment, she’s loud enough that all of the neighbours will be hearing her at all hours, and there is nowhere nearby she’ll get enough exercise for her size. on top of that, she’d have to be in quarantine for 6 months once she’s here as is my country’s policy for pets travelling which doesn’t seem fair to her, and this is AFTER a 15 hour long plane ride where she’ll be alone.

i will admit that i have kind of selfish reasons for this as well. i’m autistic and i have both anxiety and c-ptsd on top of that, and all of those things are set off by loud noise, especially loud noise that is constant or repeated. even when i’m on the phone with them, their dog is always barking and hurting my ears and sending me into sensory overload, as is how loud they have to speak over her and when they shout at her to quiet down etc. when i visit i have to make excuses to leave or go somewhere else for a breather because within minutes i’m so drained and overwhelmed and upset just because of the dog’s insanely loud barking. i was also attacked by a large dog when i was very little and ever since then i’ve been wary around Big dogs, so although i want to work on it and i’ve been trying to (i love dogs), having one so big and jumpy be aggressive and growling at me makes me incredibly on edge.

s/o was sad because they really love their dog but ultimately agreed, on the condition we can get a cat instead as they’ve always wanted one but were never allowed. i agreed to that, i’m much more of a dog person and i’m a little sad we won’t be able to get one but a cat seems a fair compromise for them having to leave their dog and i don’t mind cats either, it will be easier to care for and hopefully just as cuddly!

so i thought that was all agreed on and done with

months later i mention looking into cats and they go “but wait! that means i cant bring my dog!” like this was the first time it had occurred to them. i was kind of caught off guard and was just like “…yeah, but we can get you your cat instead!” and the conversation kind of died out and moved on quickly

but ever since then they’ve been making little comments about bringing their dog and what we’ll do with her when we live together and it just… doesn’t seem to be sinking in that they cannot bring their dog.

i feel awful because like. i can’t emphasise enough how much they love this dog. they cuddle up together in bed, they’re always calling for her, always talking about her, always taking pictures of her. when they visit me they talk about missing her.

i know when it comes down to it they’ll choose to move in with me over staying to keep her, but i worry that i’m being selfish by making them choose in the first place. i feel like i need to make it clear once and for all that the dog absolutely cannot come with them and make sure it sticks, but i honestly don’t know how to do it in a way that will make them realise while not hurting their feelings because we’ve already gone over the reasons and they initially agreed.

AITA for making my s/o give up their beloved dog?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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ruffboijuliaburnsides · 1 year

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Can I just say that I'm truly actually loving the pace of this season of Hermitcraft?

Like, for one, we've got multiple super-long-term projects that are meant to be like. for everyone to play with eventually, and none of them are close to being DONE but no one's feeling rushed, they're just putting their all into making their projects good. Like yeah the TCG is live, but Beef's clearly got a lot of expansion plans to provide over time. Etho and Ren have their huge ice race course that they're doing but not like rushing, Decked Out 2 is like... maybe 2/3rds done? Since so much of the redstone work and excavation is done even if there's still a couple levels to build/decorate/hook up into the system. And then it's meant to be played over time. Joe's pinball machine is coming apace at a steady rate but it's SO huge and fiddly that it's not exactly a quick build. Scar's got like 2-3 more areas of Scarland that haven't even been started. But clearly the end of the season isn't anywhere near, because everyone is very comfortable with their pace.

Plus like... there's been room for people to go off the server for a few weeks or months and then sure they don't have anything as big as other folks, but they've still got plenty of time to come back and get back in the swing of things and get back to working on the things they wanna do. Mumbo, notably, was gone for nearly a year. Stress was gone for ages. I know nearly everybody's taken at least a little bit of time.

IDK it just feels nice. s8 was a nice crash course when I was new to everything (including the game of minecraft tbh) but this season has been, while obviously EVENTFUL, also been nice and slow-paced, and I think it's really working well, and it seems to be doing most of the hermits I've watched well, bc it's giving them a chance to do big things and not burn themselves out trying to get those big things done as quick as they can.

There's no point to this post, I was just feeling happy about this season and wanted to share <3

#hermitcraft #mcyt #like yeah it means there's sometimes a LOT to catch up on #but frankly that's what the hc recap is for #pix and sloy do good work and it's a lot easier to catch up on like #60+ 15ish minute episodes that summarize everybody's work that week #than it is to catch up on 60+ 20-60 minute episodes for a single hermit #(not all of them are updating every week OBVIOUSLY but some are!)

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