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#hold queue tight !
vinylvacancy · 2 years
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vinyls from my collection ( in no particular order ) 15 / darker colors
mania ( 2018 ) by fall out boy
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suaimhneas-gairid · 6 months
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So glad Mikke didn't get robbed, he's the only one giving me Dublin updates
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The Many Illustrators of A Tale of Two Cities 2: Rowland Wheelwright
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That's right, we're jumping centuries and mediums!
...specifically, from Phiz's engravings for the original 1859 monthly installments to Wheelwright's paintings for this 1925 edition! (warning: in the following, there is some violent imagery, and one image in the third grouping has blood)
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As I'd mentioned in the announcement post, these illustrators will be highlighted completely out of chronological order to make it more organic when I continue to find more and more artists' work to add to the queue - so I wanted to start off with a particularly dramatic leap in time (and style!) to give a sense of the sheer variety of art we're going to be looking at here!
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This also happens to be one of the sets that I scanned myself - most of these beautiful illustrations haven't anywhere on the internet (by my own intensive research at least!) until now. It's my joy to finally get to share them!
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Overall, I want to give my own opinions and takes on the work of each illustrator as little as possible so that everyone can experience it in their own way, but the true beauty in his attention to detail in color, characterization, costuming, composition, and shadow calls for some comment.
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This is the work of someone who loved and appreciated both the story itself and the act of illustrating it - I'm grateful to him for bringing these images into existence.
& the standard endnote for all posts in this series:
This post is intended to act as the start of a forum on the given illustrator, so if anyone has anything to add - requests to see certain drawings in higher definition (since Tumblr compresses images), corrections to factual errors, sources for better-quality versions of the illustrations, further reading, fun facts, any questions, or just general commentary - simply do so on this post, be it in a comment/tags or the replies!💫
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frecklystars · 8 months
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i know nobody is online rn to read this but ;-; i gotta get it off my chest i love ken so much he means everything to me he's making me so happy and i've needed him so so so bad. he's brought me comfort when my ptsd has been so fucking unbearable and every time i'm having a crying fit over losing my tf f/os or every time i'm having a flashback i ALWAYS immediately IMMEDIATELY think about him rushing to my side, holding me and saying "hey hey it's okay, i'm here, i'm right here" and it's such a relief because i haven't been able to genuinely wholeheartedly believe any character would be willing to do that for me the entire time i've been struggling this year.
i've never gone so long without comfort from f/os, much less being triggered by the ones who used to comfort me the most. so to have barbie and ken right now is like the biggest wave of relief every single day when i wake up and the hyperfixation is still there. sometimes i will literally close my eyes and sigh in relief when i hear a song and my first thought is sebastian or ken or six or... whomever. i love being in love again. i NEED this. i love waking up and my first thought isn't my trauma most of the time now, it's ken. or it's six. or it's barbie. or it's harley. or it's officer k. or it's... yeah you get it. i needed these characters so fucking badly. every time i see a gifset and get excited over it, i feel a rush of gratitude bc self shipping has always been the glue holding me together. it doesn't feel as intense or strong as the SB musical or TF used to make me feel but i am not picky. not at all. i will take anything and i'm praying this lasts for at LEAST another few weeks please
i may not be at a sense of peace right now and i dont know when i ever will be, it could be years, but im so. so. so. so so so thankful to have these characters right now when i've needed someone so badly for so long. i hope ken knows how much i love him ;-; i hope barbie knows how much she has helped me, has saved me from one of my major triggers and has helped me to love and feel safe around the color pink again. i wish they could see me when i'm not so broken but i'm glad they're here even when i'm at my worst, i'm glad they still love me even when they deserve to see me in a much better light
#it feels so fucking terrible not celebrating my bday with my starlight. i used to buy myself cakes and put his figurine next to them#i mean i still have... a little bit over one week... i cant... let it pass by without him being involved somehow#so i might make a quick vent doodle and queue it for the actual day of my bday#i refuse to not draw myself with him at least once for my special day#its not like we 'broke up' or anything but fuck it feels so bad#he's a literal fucking ptsd trigger. how fucking insane is that#im still in shock. im still in shock over what happened to me like i cant fucking believe it#wearing his necklace makes me cry so i just leave it on my dresser#that shouldnt be normal!!!!#but im hoping that shipping with barbie/ken is going to help me feel like i can reclaim control over my ships#bc my abuser made me feel like... i had no control over my TF ships whatsoever for a solid year#so now that i'm finally free of that toxicity i'm still shakily trying to learn how to ship again#i'll have moments where i'll worry ken will try to hurt me on purpose bc im so used to my abuser telling me how abusive any f/o would be#but then i tell myself 'hey what the fuck. this is MY story. NOBODY would abuse me i dont care WHO they are'#but it's so hard to unlearn several months of abuse 😔#and even harder to look at a character who i invested so much time and energy and money into#my voice clips. my cameos. all of my steve blum autographs. my art for steve. all of it feels sad and numbing#not just stsc but everyone in any TF universe feels like... a threat and i get panic attacks when i see very specific characters sometimes#its awful. it hurts so bad. i love ken so much. but nothing compares to what i had with my TF comfort characters#but it's okay bc... ken is holding my hand and he might not understand ptsd at all but he can still squeeze me tight#and six HAS c-ptsd he GETS it. and he's there to hold me when my nightmares make me fall apart. he's my rock#vent#ptsd#sorry it's 5am i had a bad nightmare and now i refuse to sleep again#i fucking hate ptsd i fucking hate living like this i rly wish i knew how to cure myself#im exercising im eating and drinking often im sleeping as much as i can#theres only so much i can do#when does it get better?? when the fuck does it get better? im serious. not rhetorical. when does this finally heal#i dont even know if im healing or if im just distracted... but fuck ill take anything
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daydreamerwonderkid · 7 months
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Despite the horrors (Gotham War), I am still a Bruce Wayne stan.
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eternitysuggests · 1 year
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Let Me Go
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stcrforged · 3 days
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❛ M'back. ❜ He utters as soon as he walks in door, gently tugging rain soaked hood off his head and tossing keys on counter as he walks further into his small apartment that he currently shares with another at this moment, the one he announces that he's back to. Rain water drips off his form as he sets bag of takeout on counter next, dark eyes roaming until they settle on another's form that appears in his line of sight. ❛ You hungry ? I got food. ❜ He looks exhausted, he feels exhausted ( it's not the most exhausted he's ever felt but he's not sure he's felt energized in years now anyways ). / tosses ollie @ joe !!!
hours had passed and he had done nothing but staring at the ceiling. what had happened STILL felt so unreal. he felt lost. before all of this he had had such a bright future. a new star on the hockey sky and then he had fallen. hard. crawling out of a damn crater, barely surviving. had it not been for oliver, he would probably have been dead and the thought of that scared him. but THIS - this also frightened him. becoming part of a machine. it was a big change in his life.
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MISMATCHED eyes looked up, finding the owner of the voice, noticing the exhaustion on his face. joe couldn't help but feel bad. before he could eat a lot, but now... his appetite had disappeared. he barely ate. he MERELY existed. or at least trying. oliver shouldn't need to do all of this. paying bills, buying food, taking care of him. he truly felt like a burden, not contributing with anything. useless. " i'm not that hungry. sorry. " the sound of bones creaking echoed in the small apartment as the taller one got up from the sofa, taking the bags from the other, starting to unpack. it was the least he could do. " but i still need to eat. i'll just make a sandwhich or something. " joe paused, gazing over his shoulder. " you should rest. " /@mythcaels
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crownshattered · 29 days
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@barxlupin inquired: [ hold on ] sender pulls receiver into their arms (Henry @ Rosalie)
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⁕| Non-Verbal Angst |⁕
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The sudden tug against the man’s body made Rosalie inhale sharply. She still wasn’t used to the affection, to knowing that someone out there cared about her wellbeing. After all, she has lost everyone who ever did care about her. She was cursed in that way, she supposed…and none of the people who did care were the type to suddenly pull her in for a hug the moment she walked through the door.
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Rosalie was left frozen for a moment or so before urging her body to relax in Henry’s grip, a small smile tugging at her dark lips. “Everything is fine, I wasn’t going to leave you again,” she said with a soft chuckle, awkwardly patting her brother’s shoulder in an effort to return the affection that was still unfamiliar to her.
But she knew why Henry had been so worried. An ability-affecting fog had been covering the entire city, forcing abilities to turn against their users and fight them. Rosalie just so happened to be outside during that time, and to have Lenore try to kill her… It wasn’t a pleasant experience to say the least, but that was over now. The fog had cleared. Rosalie could feel her ability’s presence with her once again.
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songsaboutwater · 7 months
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diademreigned · 10 months
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[ TOUCH ]  for the taller muse to lean down and press their forehead to the shorter one’s. -G’raha to Data
A moment of respite, they said. It's what they had all deserved, but it almost felt like it was never fully going to last. Not in the same amount of want that Data had wished for it.
Though maybe it was at times like this that he truly didn't mind. He had promised the other Seeker the night before that they would take a small adventure together, just the two of them, to the very corners of Limsa Lominsa, specifically to Aleport.
' To overlook the sea ' he said, running his fingers across Lotus' pink plumage as they moved to get ready. The red headed Miqo'te had questioned at the time why he chose Aleport, and Data had confessed this is where his life as a Red Mage had truly began. While it started in Ul'dah, he felt the winds churning in Aleport when they had found that box, and within that box, one who he had come to consider ( yet another ) sister.
They settled up onto the tallest peek at Aleport, where a lighthouse beamed quietly to alert all those who had been traversing by ship. It was there that they landed, Data being mindful of where his hand was, always seeking out G'raha's in tow. A thumbing to let him know that he was right there.
"Don't worry about thinking you're going to fall," Data mentioned, shoulders touching the other's with a closeness only they could be fond of. "There's a fence." Though he wanted to say that he'd catch him should he fall, but falling together would make it even more memorable. "Take a seat, make sure your legs are dangling over the edge."
One would be unsteady at the prospect of somehow screwing up sitting down from a cliff-side, but the two of them managed just fine, almost using each other as a support. Never releasing those hands that so graciously kept close. It was all they had, and maybe all they needed.
As they officially grew more relaxed where they sat, Data felt their tails shift from the grasses behind them. Bushy fur bristled in the wind before they found themselves dancing along the earth. Around and around until they intertwined, seeking each other's solace and comfort and intimacy.
"Makes you almost feel small doesn't it?" Data rested the side of his face into his shoulder, feeling the caress of an arm around his lower back, almost securing him to G'raha's waist. Joined at the hip, they always joked, but there was something genuine about it.
He dared to disrupt the moment by looking up, straight into those ruby reds that did not shy from meeting his own gaze. Maybe they were thinking the same thing, and somehow found a distance in the middle of their locations.
Forward their foreheads shifted, pushing and touching against one another, resting there, nesting and finding security that they'd never abandon.
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"But you make me feel greater, more seen," he whispered against those lips that dared themselves to close the gap between them. The warmth of the breath before him. He almost felt his ears pin with ease and then rise again, communicating with the reds that followed. "I promised an adventure didn't I? I know it's not much, but I'll take anything I can get my hands on when I'm with you. You know?"
They only had these particular moments in time. They couldn't be picky and deny what little memories they were able to make.
The tails tightened around one another, as did the grip on their own hands. Intertwining, keeping watch in fear that one of them would disappear.
Never again, they would say to each other, never again - they'd breathe between lips closing distance. Just as it almost always got to be. They'd take it, even for mere seconds at a time.
"Let's go on another adventure soon, yeah?" Data felt his ears wriggle, eyes squinting with the smile he couldn't help but purse onto his lips. "I'll let you pick the place next time. Let's stay here awhile. Maybe we'll go fishing after."
He'd just have to keep his heartrate under control. Data didn't need to run a mile to see how much G'raha had made his heart accelerate right in his chest. Guess maybe all the greater and better things left him nearly out of breath. Slowly, but surely, he found himself leaning closer and closer. His head hit G'raha's chest within seconds, but the contact, with all the ablaze affection between the squeezing palms; never once broke. Nor faded.
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peachsayshi · 2 months
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✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ blessings ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
↬ summary: nanami kento tries to be the perfect husband and father but when a tough night fighting curses ends badly it results in nanami snapping at his daughter. 
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��ˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) ↬・tags: nanami x female reader; hurt/comfort; nanami has a daughter; domestic drama; being a jujutsu sorcerer is hard; momotarō is a famous Japanese folk tale :c ↬・ wc: 3,383
↬ notes: hi, everyone! I'm currently not really active at the moment so please don't feel disheartened if I haven't been responding to your messages or tagged posts. I'm taking a small break and only coming online for a bit to catch up on some messages, read fics or queue posts. I'll be back to properly posting and interacting soon but in the meantime I wanted to share that I finished up this draft over the weekend. I was actually debating if I should post this but then just decided to go for it! sending all my love xx
nanami’s head is heavy, completely clouded with despair, and it tints his brown eyes a shade of murky gray. the walls of his beautiful home feel narrow, almost claustrophobic, which explains why he’s struggling to catch his breath right now. stepping into the hallway, he instinctively peeks into the dining area to find you and his daughter eating dinner together. she’s sitting on the chair, her legs far too short to even touch the ground, holding a half eaten onigiri between her small hands. you are by her side, sneakily tidying up after her as you brush away the stray beads of rice trickling onto the table. 
a little glow blooms in nanami’s heart at the sight of you both but there is a vicious creature residing in the pit of his stomach that veils the bright light away. 
he quietly takes off his jacket, his bruised fingers loosening the tie around his neck. he clears his throat before announcing with exhaustion to you both that he’s finally home. 
your eyes meet his, the muscles on your face falling immediately. he can practically feel the blood rushing through your veins as worry washes over you. the reaction makes his chest uncomfortably tight, but he knows that he can’t hide his expressions around you like he used to. 
you both move together so fluidly now, like a single body of water that ebbs and flows to its own natural current. 
he escaped the night’s fight with a few cuts and a couple of bad bruises, but there is currently a student on shoko’s table who barely made it through. the young man arrived at jujutsu tech only a couple of weeks ago, but his naive and charismatic qualities turned into fatal flaws in the world of sorcery.
he bit off more than he could chew by trying to take on a special grade curse.  
shoko promised nanami that she would heal the boy, but admitted there was only so much she can do in regards to the aftermath of his injuries. the sorcerer couldn’t bare to leave him behind, but gojo refused that he stay and insisted that he return back home to his pretty wife and adorable daughter immediately. 
“I’ll handle things from here,” is what his superior said, while nanami’s guilt climbed up his throat. 
that student was his responsibility... 
...and he failed him entirely. 
“papa’s home!” his daughter chirps. the pitch of her voice ringing in nanami’s ears to pull him back to the present and far away from the scene where life and death were dancing together in a tango.  “papa, look, look...mama and I made onigiri!” 
her feet bounces up and down, and there’s a touch of a pink against her cheeks when her mouth stretches into a beaming grin. the innocence in her eyes makes nanami falter and he can feel himself falling deeper into the abyss. for a minute he resents himself for selfishly bringing such a beautiful thing into this world, only to gamble with the fact that she may potentially be in his shoes one day. 
he begs for that outcome to never happen, beseeches whatever higher power above him that exists to spare her from this life. she should never have to go through this, never have to experience these heartbreaks that only wither a person down. 
“I can see that,” nanami replies in a low voice before shifting his attention to his feet. 
right now, he can’t stomach an ounce of her purity, and it radiates around her like a halo. she's so unbothered by his presence, so completely unaware of the sudden change in the atmosphere around her... 
“we made tuna, salmon, and veggies...” she babbles on. 
“how nice...” nanami curtly interrupts, before anxiously running his fingers through the strands of his messy blonde hair. 
“which one do you want, papa?” she questions eagerly, pointing her sticky hands at the plate to show off the selection of triangles. 
“sweets,” you interject just as nanami turns on his heel to walk in the other direction, “how about we finish up eating our dinner, and we can save some for your daddy tomorrow...”
“nooo!” she whines far too loudly, which forces nanami to stop dead in his tracks. he glances over his shoulder to see her puffing out her bottom lip with disappointment, “you said...you said we make it so we eat together!” 
she’s only six. 
she can’t perceive that her father is struggling to hold himself together. deep down inside nanami knows that, but it isn’t enough to keep his cool. he doesn’t know why his daughter’s insistence causes him to pinch the front of his brows with annoyance or why he shoots a frustrated look in her direction. 
he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly picturing shoko calling the student’s parents to deliver the news that the man who was supposed to protect their child was unsuccessful in his duty. 
he doesn’t know why he feels at fault for everything that happened, even though the circumstances of the events were completely out of his control.  
he doesn’t know why he’s imagining himself on the receiving end of a very similar call, or why he can’t stop picturing his precious daughter on that table instead…
all of this pummels into him, and the monster emerges out from it’s cave.  
“be quiet and stop making such a fuss.” 
his voice comes out sharper than expected, and the expulsion of his frustration allows him to see the crystal clear picture before him. 
the room is dead silent. 
your face is in full shock at the hissing tone of your sweet husband snapping at his darling baby girl who he only ever speaks to with a gentle voice. 
what truly unravels nanami is the look that his daughter is giving him - her angelic features are sullen, but her eyes remain wide with surprise. her bottom lip is slack, and the only sound he can hear is her uneasy breathing. her eyes, the most beautiful gems in existence, twinkle as tears begin to form and she tries to quickly blink them away before turning her attention back to her plate.  
nanami doesn’t know he managed to stop time itself but the three of you remain frozen in place. 
he regrets his words immediately. 
he wants nothing more than to pull his precious girl close into his chest and smother her with apologies. the part of him with sense tells him to follow through and make things right with her, but instead he begrudgingly continues to wallow in his own self pity as he walks over to his room. 
・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・
the house is unusually quiet now, the music of domestic joy morphing into hushed murmurs and whispers outside your room door. you settle your crestfallen daughter into her bedroom before moving to check on your husband next. 
fresh out of the shower, nanami is seated on the edge of the bed with his exhausted eyes pressed firmly into the palms of his hands. he exhales a heavy breath, his dirty work clothes still piled just outside the bathroom, and your heart nearly collapses seeing him in such a state of disarray.
you kneel before him, two hands sliding across the soft material of his sweats as you brush them along his thighs before carefully bringing them up to circle around his wrists. 
“kento?” 
he allows you to pull his palms away but your throat constricts when a band forms tightly around your neck. you swallow the lump with an upturn of your brows as you are greeted with red, exhausted eyes. you cup that handsome face in your hands, your thumbs sweetly motioning back and forth across his cheeks as you try to soothe the tension away. 
after all this time together, it hurts you to see that he still tries to hide his tears. nanami constantly holds himself to the highest standard, always ensuring that he can solidify himself as the rock for you and your daughter to depend on through thick and thin. it’s so rare for you to see him crack, to watch him crumble under the overbearing weight of the things that he is burdened to carry. 
“you had a rough night,” you point out in a low, sympathetic voice and he simply just nods his head in acknowledgement. 
his eyes flutter close again when you lean forward to press a tender, reassuring kiss on his brow. “you want a talk about it?” 
the way his voice shakes makes you shiver, but you tentatively listen as he relays the events of the night before finally concluding that satoru called him only a few minutes ago to reassure him that the student in question is alright. 
“he lost an eye, but at least he’s alive...” he concludes somberly, the warble in his final statement prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck as you pull him in for a protective hug. 
nanami receives it with gratitude, strong arms circling around your waist as he buries his nose into the crook of your shoulder and breathes in.
your scent is a reminder of his permanent sanctuary.
a safety, a reassurance of home.
you stroke his blonde locks between your fingers until he exhales, "i'm so sorry," he breathes, "I...I didn't mean to snap like that..."
a tiny smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you unravel yourself to cup his jaw into your palms once again. "I appreciate the apology, but I don't think I should be on the receiving end of it..." you hint sweetly.
nanami closes his eyes guiltily. "I'm a horrible father."
you click your tongue with disappointment, your face falling as your disapproval pinches between the space of your brows.
"you're just human," you remind him defensively, "you're a wonderful father, the best man that our daughter can look up to"
"did you see the look on her face?" he replies, his voice unnaturally small. the tender expression he gives you is filled with regret, and it's enough to make your heart ache all over again.
"kento," you contend, "don't do this to yourself. we're both going to have days where we mess up, but that doesn't mean that the problem can't be fixed."
you thread his hair between your fingers, like your brushing through rays sunlight. "she's waiting for me to read her a bedtime story," you explain, "but I'm sure she would rather be with you instead..."
"I doubt that," your husband replies as he reaches for your hand to kiss the inside of your palm.
"we will always love you, kento," you answer back, "unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"
he didn't even know how desperately he needed to hear that, for your certainty to remedy away all his sorrows, until they actually left your lips.
your husband's throat tightens, tears pricking his eyes once more but he hides them away when he leans in to seek out a kiss from the woman whose heart he deeply adores.
・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・
nanami leans his shoulder against the frame of his daughter's room. his heart patters lightly, making him realize that he might actually be nervous. it's strange, he thinks, that he would feel hesitant to approach his own child considering that he was her guardian but nanami had never allowed his professional life to fracture into his personal one like this before.
she's seated on the floor next to a pile of books and her stuffed rabbit secured tightly underneath her arm. there's a warmth in his chest when when he makes note of the soft toy, because he purchased that himself the day she was born and the pair have been inseparable ever since.
he clears his throat, bringing his scuffed knuckles to gently knock on the door.
"my love?" he calls out to her.
his daughter perks up, her breathing changing slightly as it rises and falls with a hint of apprehension. she glances over her shoulder to see him.
"where's mama?" she asks, her question shattering the man into a million pieces at her subtle dismissal.
"taking a shower," he answers cooly, "but I'm here to get you ready for bed..."
her lovely eyes refuse to lock into his own, and she simply tucks her lip between her bottom teeth to avoid giving nanami a reply.
she looks so much like him when he was a child. he remembered when his parents used to scold him too, and how he would also hide away in his room. the only difference is that nanami's parents were far more traditional - a time where elders were never submissive to young hearts.
"may I come in?" he requests politely, ensuring that his daughter knew she had a choice if she wanted to speak to him.
her nostrils flare slightly while she considers him, but to his relief she nods her head eagerly.
nanami steps into her room, always feeling largely out of place amongst her things. "did you find a story for bed?" he asks.
she again quietly nods her head and picks up her favorite book; a compilation of japanese folktales with beautiful illustrations. you both have been reading one for her each night ever since she got it it as a present from her grandparents.
he crouches on his knees to meet her at eye level. "you've really been enjoying this one, haven't you?" he carries on, hoping to coax more words out of her.
“yeah,” she replies in the same mousy voice of uncertainty. she shifts her attention away when she stands on her feet, clutching onto the stuffed bunny tightly while her other hand swings the book by her side.
“and what tale are we reading tonight?”
she shrugs her shoulders with indifference, a hint of pink blushing her cheek. “I dunno. I…I can just until mama is ready…”
nanami visibly slumps. her rejection an entirely new painful experience that he's never endured before. he scratches the back of his head anxiously, finding himself at a loss for words. the seconds pass, an awkward bubble surrounding both father and daughter. it’s only broken when nanami exhales a sigh, and reaches his hands towards her waist to draw her into his frame.
“darling,” he addresses tenderly, “can you look at me?”
“no, you were mean…” she blurts out, her bottom lip trembling slightly.
nanami’s heart sinks.
that’s the first time he’s ever heard those words from her lips.
“I know,” he murmurs shamefully.
her mouth forms into a tiny button of a pout but she meets his eyes for the first time as he acknowledges his behavior.
nanami arches forward to kiss her forehead, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, sweetheart. I’m so sorry if I upset or scared you”
she fidgets with the book in her hand. “did you not want onigiri?” she asks, her innocence tugging the corners of her father’s lips into a small grin.
“it wasn’t the onigiri, my love,” he reassures, “daddy just…had a bad day at work…”
“why was it bad?”
nanami sighs once again.
she still doesn’t know that he’s a sorcerer. you’ve both reduced his position to her by simply explaining that nanami “helps and protects people".
thankfully your daughter doesn’t pry too hard to ask any further questions.
“someone I know got hurt. so, daddy was a little shaken up when he came home…”
"shaken up?"
"scared, my love"
his daughter shakes her head in disbelief, “nu-uh, you never get scared, papa” she rebuts.
nanami huffs out a laugh, flashing her a full grin now as he brings his fingers to his chin to to ponder her sweet statement. he quirks his brow and cheekily replies, "we can't all be brave like you," in an attempt to lighten the mood.
his daughter narrows her eyes towards his hand, her mind instantly distracted with other things already. "you got hurt too papa!" she gasps, dropping the bunny by her side to point at his knuckles.
nanami glances at his fingers covered in red marks.
"wait!" she exclaims as she places the book by his side. "I have something!"
she spins on her heel and rushes towards one of her drawers. meanwhile, nanami just takes her in with his love soaked eyes, watching as she rummages through her stuff with determination until she scurries back his way.
"got it!" she squeaks with a smile, and to his surprise she jumps right into his arms with such nonchalance it nearly make him crumble on the spot.
your voice echoes in the back of his mind: "we will always love you, kento. unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"
"mama bought it for me," she explains, regaining her father's attention once more.
nanami rests his cheek on her shoulder, and inhales her powdery scent as he keeps one arm warmly secured around her waist. he watches her peel off the plaster of the band aid, lbefore grabbing his hand and placing it unevenly over his knuckles.
"now a kiss!" she adds, as she brings his hand to her mouth and exaggerates a loud "mwah" sound for emphasis. "mama says the kiss is what makes it all better"
nanami instantly feels significantly better from this remedy of love. he extends his digits out, and looks at the hot pink "hello kitty" band aid that now rests comfortably on his knuckles.
"thank you, my darling," he coos and peppers her cheek with a few kisses before turning her to face him once again. "you made me feel a lot better"
she flashes him an equally large smile in return, showing off her missing teeth.
"I did?"
nanami chuckles as he scoops her up in his arms to give her a well deserved bear hug. she laughs as he stands on his two feet, and sheds away any lingering thoughts of apprehension that may have stuck.
"you always do," he reassures, his soul vibrating back to life when he feels her return his embrace. “you think you can forgive me for how I spoke earlier?”
“yeah,” she confirms and squeezes him just a little tighter. "I love you lots, papa"
"oh, my angel," he hums, "you have no idea just how much I love you too..."
・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・
after winding down from your evening pampering session, you decide to pass by your daughter's room to check on your little family. you peer through the cracked door to find nanami spread out on your daughter’s bed, with your daughter curled into side and her head resting on his chest.
“did I come from a peach too like momotarō?” you hear her ask, but your heart flutters at the sight of your husband’s pearly whites.
you’ll never get over how much you love seeing him smile with such genuine emotion.
“no,” you hear nanami reply calmly, his finger lightly holding the page open. “you remember your mother explaining how you used to live in her stomach first?”
“oh yeah,” your daughter replies with a hint of disappointment over the fact that she was not birthed from a piece of fruit as mentioned in one of her favorite folk tales.
“shall I carry on?”
“uh-huh,” she answers and she readjusts her position to get even more comfortable. "I think if we look hard enough we might find momotarō..."
"you think so?" your husband wonders with honest curiosity.
"I know so, papa!"
"how many peaches do you think we need to check?"
"hmmm," she mumbles, "maybe a million?"
"a million?" your husband dramatically replies, "that's a lot of peaches don't you think,"
"I mean, it's less than a billion..." she responds quite matter of factly.
you catch his gaze from between the door that’s ajar. his expression fully relaxes, and you smile knowingly in his direction at the sight of father and daughter making up.
“papa?” his daughter questions upon his sudden silence, but your husband keeps his focus on you as he hums in acknowledgement before replying, "you're not wrong, but it'll still be quite a challenge to cut through a million peaches..."
"we might need some help," your daughter adds on.
you blow him a secret kiss as to not interrupt further, and quietly close the door before heading back to your bedroom.
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undertheflagrp · 2 years
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ZELDA is a LEVEL TEN BRAWLER. she excels in HEALTH, SPEED and STRENGTH. she also works as a MERCENARY in PODAKKO.
    < HP: 30 >       < STR: 10 >       < MAG: 0 >       < DEX: 3 >       < SPD: 10 >                <  LCK: 4 >       <  DEF: 3 >      < RES  5 >      < CHA: 5 >
STATUS | NOTES | INTRODUCTION LOADING...
[ QUEST: BATTLING YOUR BELOVED ]       
panting heavily, zelda spits to the side, watching a glob of blood splat on the ground nearby. she doesn’t see a tooth in it, at least, and a cursory swipe of her tongue confirms that she hasn’t lost any yet. her most recent opponent lies groaning on the ground, and zelda neatly steps over them, certain that they won’t be moving anytime soon with that many broken ribs.
she gazes around, wondering where to head next, if she could maybe head back to the mercenary tent to grab some water and updated orders. her eyes land on someone in the enemy’s colors and she does a double-take as she recognizes someone she hasn’t seen in years -- her oldest cousin.
“ashyn?” she gasps, reflexively clenching her right fist and fighting the urge to look down and make sure she’s still wearing her glove. she should run -- towards ashyn or away, she isn’t sure yet -- she should do something, anything, but she can’t get herself to move.
as if her cousin feels zelda’s shocked eyes on her, she turns as well, her own mouth dropping open as she spots zelda, who watches her mouth form a name she hasn’t heard in over five years.
zelda bolts.
she turns tail and runs, just like she did all those years ago, dodging between fighting soldiers and mercenaries and barely avoiding tripping over bodies and slipping on the muddy ground. she runs whichever direction is easiest to get through, zigzagging her way across the battlefield and feeling tears behind the wind in her eyes.
she must run in a circle somehow, or ashyn is much quicker than she used to be, because zelda has to skid to a stop when she sees ashyn burst out of a group of enemy soldiers several yards ahead. zelda tries to change course, but ashyn’s voice holds her in place. “addie, wait!”
zelda freezes, staring down at the ground to her right, watching a worm try to wiggle its way into the soil. she senses ashyn approaching and barely even registers the sounds of the battle still raging around them over the pounding in her own ears.
she sees ashyn’s feet stop in front of her, and slowly lifts her eyes, looking on a member of her family for the first time since they found out she was branded. ashyn meets her eyes, then smiles, her own expression misty. before zelda can even begin to process that, ashyn pulls her into a hug.
“i’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispers, and zelda doesn’t know what she should do, how she should react, why ashyn is even here, but she can’t help it -- she hugs back. they can figure everything else out, hopefully.
                            “WHAT, CAN’T TAKE A PUNCH?”
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primordial-arcane · 2 years
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THE SHIMMER OF DISTANT STARS
|| TAG COLLECTION || Vol. 5
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★┃❝ Outgoing transmission ❞┃(Inbox call)
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dearharriet · 4 months
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I Want Your Video; Steve Harrington x Reader 📼
summary: steve always takes care of you on a night out.
word count: 1.4K
warnings: drinking, smoking, swearing, fem!reader, fluff
a/n: inspired by a djo song with the same title. i’m such a sucker for steve <3
“I ‘ave to go t’the bathrooom,” you tell Steve, holding tight to the hot skin of his bicep. In a drunken stupor, your thumb swipes sweetly over it once, unable to resist.
His other arm, the one you’re not holding to, has your clutch tucked under it. It’s unclear if he’s being gentlemanly or if he’s monitoring your intake. He certainly didn’t take Nancy’s or Robin’s. Or Argyle’s belly bag.
“‘Kay, be safe,” Steve says, patting your elbow. He looks a touch hot, red-cheeked and a little damp around the edges. Dancing must’ve made a mess of you if he looks so disheveled from just standing and talking. You furrow your brows.
“Come with me?” Pouting, your grip slides down to take his hand, but he pulls away.
“Uh—maybe Nance or Rob should do that.”
He says it like such a request is verboten. You look back towards Nance and Robin, relentlessly moving on the dance floor.
“They won’t go with meeee—“ you whine, and then simper when he sighs in defeat.
Steve steers you toward the stairwell that leads down to the toilets. While you weave through the crowds, he stays behind you, a steadying force at your back.
The stairwell is much cooler than the bar. It’s a relief to suck in air that’s not muggy with sweat and beer. At the bottom of the dingey stairs a couple is draped over one another talking closely, and nearer to the bathroom there’s a trio of people sharing a smoke and waiting. Steve and you take up residence just next to them. The concrete wall is cooling on your hot back and it elicits a sigh.
“Having fun?” Steve asks, facing you with his arms crossed and a shoulder leant on the wall. Your clutch is shoved in his front pocket like a miniature Bible.
“Uh-huh.” You nod with exaggerated windedness. “Wish you’d dance with me, though.”
The bathroom door clicks open and a guy comes out, nodding awkwardly at all seven heads turned his way. The queue dwindles to three again—plus Steve, who is smiling at you apologetically.
“Nah, you wouldn’t wanna see me dance. I tend to intimidate people with how skilled I am.”
A laugh bubbles out of you. “Ohhh, right,” you nod. “Must be hard, having all that talent. And you’re s’busy keepin’ me sober.” You speak so fast the words slur on the way out, and Steve chuckles teasingly.
“I’m doin’ a shit job, aren’t I? You’re in a state already.” He reaches out and brushes your arm when he says this, his knuckles leaving goosebumps behind them. When he pulls his hand back he’s grown more sincere. “Who said I’m keeping you sober? I’ve let you drink all you want.”
“You let me,” you tease, “But you’re keeping my wallet. And you’ve been watching me all night.”
“Yeah, well.” He looks defensive. “Someone’s gotta have your back.”
The bathroom door opens again, and the line shrinks even more. You pick the conversation right back up.
“What ‘bout Nance and Rob? And the guys?” Turning toward Steve, your arms cross so you’re mirroring him. “They’ve all got their wallets.”
“They’ve got each other, too.” Steve playfully swings at your shoulder, and you take the hit willingly. “Who’s got you, huh, rockstar?”
A smile splits your face with glee at the nickname. You step closer and you’re about to answer—you, you’ve got me—when Steve clears his throat.
You frown, and Steve smiles, juts his chin toward the bathroom door. It’s empty, you realize, and Steve and you are alone. It seems the third member of the bathroom trio was only company, like Steve.
“You know what to do,” Steve mutters, and you reluctantly peel away from the wall.
“Oh, wait!” You whip around and offer a hand out for your wallet. Steve gives it over wordlessly, and then you’re locking the door behind you.
As suspected, you look a mess. Your hair is frizzed and a touch tangled. Dark mauve eyeliner has smoked itself out—all over your undereye—and your cheeks are red and dampened with sweat.
Despite it all, you feel good. You brought your clutch so you could touch up your lipstick, and you do, but you don’t need to. It’s almost like what Steve said; You’re a rockstar. You look like one, anyway.
After washing your hands, the only thing you do to your appearance is fluff your hair up even more, playing up this smudged version of your original look.
It feels impossibly easy to grin at Steve once you emerge from the bathroom. Steve laughs.
“Why do I feel like you got more drunk while you were in there?”
You tighten your smile primly. “Not drunker, just better looking.”
Steve pulls his brows together almost painfully, his features unreadable. You saunter over to him anyways, stepping into his bubble. His full back is pressed to the wall now, a leg kicked up, and you’re as close as you can get without being thigh-to-knee. Steve’s nervous eyes scan you.
“Want me to take that?” Steve points to your clutch. You nod, but ignore the hand he has waiting for you. Feeling bold, you reach around him and tuck it into his back pocket. Your chests meet, and then crush closer as you both gasp. Pulling away feels suddenly impossible, so you don't, and Steve doesn’t make you. He licks his lips.
“Y’didn’t lock the door,” he mumbles, but your brain jumbles as his hand smooths over your ribs.
“Hmm?” You can’t be bothered with words, feeling more intoxicated by his touch than the three drinks in your system.
Steve rubs a small circle over your side. “The bathroom door,” he says softly, “it stayed on vacant the whole time.”
Oh, yeah. It had. Your mouth pops open, and then you shoot him a wry grin.
“Whoops.”
Steve’s responding head shake is exasperated but fond.
“You trust me too much,” he sighs.
It’s not a joke. A string of insecurity holds the sentence together, and you know what it is. It’s easy to see that he knows, too. Moving closer, committing to the embrace you’ve found yourself in, you pin Steve with a sincere stare.
“Do I?” It’s excessively rhetorical, stilling any rebuttal he has. Steve purses his lips together, and then glances at yours. You toe up ever so slightly, in anticipation. Both of Steve’s hands are on you now, though they’re holding your arms, keeping you at bay.
“We can’t,” Steve whispers, glancing at the stairwell, and you realize the bar is still upstairs with all of your friends. They’d probably come looking soon, vying for another round, another dance. You look to the stairwell too, and then to the other side of the hall, and back to Steve.
“Yet here we are.” The murmur is sultry, luring Steve closer, tempting his hand to wind into the soft hair at the nape of your neck.
“Here we are,” Steve repeats, and then your lips are abruptly too occupied by his to respond.
Steve’s hand that’s not gripping your neck winds over your shoulders, keeping you close. His nose crushes to your cheek as he drags his mouth over yours again and again.
A part of you—the same part that’s observing how good of a kisser he is—can’t believe you’re mouth to mouth with the Steve Harrington from high school. The other half, probably the truer half, knows it’s been a long time coming. Years of patching up and skirting around each other, protecting each other because you had to, and now taking care of each other because you wanted to. Because no one else would.
When you separate, you’re both breathless and effervescent. Steve is staring at you like you hung the moon.
“You’re so beautiful,” he coos, his thumb caressing the rosy apple of your cheek. Steve has a way of marrying sincerity and charm, and it needles at your heart ruthlessly.
You beam and kiss him again as a thank you.
“Think you might be glowing,” he continues, speaking right into your mouth. His teeth clack against yours as the kiss grows too smiley for its own good.
“You look pretty, too,” you goad, tracing his lips. “Cherry’s a good look on you.”
Steve pinches his brow and then notices your smeared lipstick.
“Aw, come on.”
You laugh and help him wipe it off, but when you return to the bar later, Argyle still complements Steve’s beautiful makeup.
+
thank you for reading ! my requests are open :)
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pandoraslxna · 1 year
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hiii omg i super fucking love ur step bro neteyam fic KALAMAKKAK the things it did to me 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 IM BEGGING for more  ゜・(x ω x)・゜。
Not good enough
Stepbro Neteyam x female Omaticaya reader
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Words: 3.7k
Summary: Neteyam isn’t happy about the future mate his parents have chosen for you. Afterall, no one can compare to him.
Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, stepcest (they’re not related by blood, reader is adopted), jealousy, extreme possessive behavior, light degradation kink, praise kink, queue play(?), creampie, Neteyam and reader are adults!, princess treatment, fingering, p in v
Notes: this can be read as a stand alone as well as a prequel to 'three is always unfortunate' 🫶🏻
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Tarem was a good hunter and a well respected member of the omatikaya clan. Your stepparents were certain that he would make a good mate for you. And like the good and obedient daughter that you were, you agreed to anything your parents would ask for. You believed that they always knew what was best for you, and so you didn’t even doubt for one moment, that Tarem would be a good husband to you one day.
Neteyam on the other hand, was everything but happy about his parents pick. Truth be told, he wouldn’t approve any of his parents decisions regarding your future mate. He just didn’t believe that anyone was nearly good enough for his beloved stepsister. In his eyes, you were simply perfect and none of the men in his clan deserved to call you their mate. None of them were good enough for you.
So far, none of them had even dared to talk to you anyways –thanks to your big stepbrother of course. To everyone else, including his parents, he was just your overprotective brother and nobody dared to come in between you two.
Neteyam had always been a little more affectionate with you. If he could, he’d carry you around all day. He just loved to have you close, loved to show everyone else that you two were close. He would hug you whenever he could, he’d hold your hand or kiss your cheek, he would sneak inside your marui at night to cuddle with you and sometimes you did the same. He would even carry your stuff after you or do your chores, no matter how silly it may seemed because you were definitely capable of doing them on your own– but you wouldn’t need to lift a finger when he was around.
Neteyam was definitely a little possessive of you too. Whenever a man showed the slightest interest in you, whenever a man even dared to look in your direction– Neteyam was already standing behind you, scaring them away with only a glare.
But the future Tsahik would need a mate and since no one had dared to openly speak out their interest in you, your stepparents were left with no choice but to pick a mate for you themselves. Much to his annoyance. But he wouldn’t let just anyone come in between him and his favorite girl.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Neteyam had been looking for you all morning, since you didn’t show up at his marui at the usual time. It was a little ritual of you and him, that no matter how busy you two were, you would always make time for each other for at least an hour a day. An hour that was spend strictly with one another and nobody else. You would ride your ikrans together, go on a little hunt, explore the forest, take a swim or just sit and talk for a while. Whatever you wanted to do. In all of these years, since his parents had adopted you, neither of you had ever missed out on this.
Which is why it drove him absolutely insane to see, that the reason you were late today, was another man. Tarem. The man that his parents had chosen to become your mate. The thought alone made his stomach twist in a tight knot. Why him? You were way too good for that guy! Neteyam was sure that he wouldn’t be able to treat you as good as he did. He was your big brother, your protector. He spoiled you whenever he could, may it be through gifts, words or actions. Neteyam always made sure that you knew you were his precious little princess. You were his.
Whatever you two were talking about quickly comes to an end, once Neteyam lays his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. Your face instantly lightens up when you see him, your big doe eyes looking up at him with so much love. "Neteyam, hey!", you greet him happily. But he wasn’t even looking at you. He was straight up glaring at the man standing in front of you both, with his ears flat against his head. He greets you with a small kiss to your temple, still glaring at that poor man. "I’ve been looking for my baby sister, thought you missed our date. Where have you been all morning, hm?" The eye contact he was holding with Tarem as he spoke was scary, yet you didn’t even realize. You somehow never realized when he did those things, blinded by the pure adoration and love you had for your older brother. "Oh, I’m so sorry 'Teyam. I’ve been talking to Tarem and totally forgot the time!" Neteyam knew you were speaking the truth. You would never lie to him.
Tarem swallows thickly, seemingly nervous before he greets your brother, "I see you, Neteyam. Great warrior, son of toruk makto and future olo’eyktan, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Save your breath", Neteyam quickly waves him off with a stern look on his face, "You’re not good enough for my little sister."
Almost immediately, your eyebrows furrow and you gasp, not used to your stepbrother being so unprovoked rude, "Neteyam!"
But before you can protest, he had already grabbed you by your upper arm and pulled you away, leaving a poor, dumbstruck Tarem behind.
Neteyam half marches and half carries you away from him, away from the village and to a lonely spot somewhere in the forest. It was rare to see him this angry, especially while you were near, which was why you‘d followed him without further questions or complains. But when he’d finally let your arm go, you couldn’t stay silent anymore.
"'Teyam, dad said—", you begin but your stepbrother was quick to interrupt you.
"I don’t care about what dad said. He’s not good enough for you. End of story." He was yelling at you and you can’t help the way your bottom lip begins to tremble. Neteyam had never yelled at you like this.
Once he realizes his mistake, he cups your face, his thumbs gently stroking over your cheeks. "Oh, cupcake don’t cry", he sighs, "I‘m sorry for yelling at you, I didn’t mean to."
"Are you mad at me?", you sniffle and Neteyam could feel his heart squeeze tight in his chest. He gives a small kiss to the tip of your nose before he reassures you, "I‘m not mad at you, I promise. But I don’t want you to spend any more time with that guy, okay? I don’t like him."
"But– But he’s supposed to become my mate! Dad said I should get to know him better before we—"
"So I‘m not enough for you?", he interrupts you again, "You have me, is your big bro not enough for you anymore?"
"You will always be enough for me, but…", you struggle to find the right words.
"But what? Why do you even need a mate when you have me? I can give you everything that he can and more. You don’t need him, he‘ll never be good enough for you anyways", he tells you and it sounded so desperate, like he was really scared to loose you to another man. Which was ridiculous, because you would always be his.
"‘Teyam, you know that’s not what this is about…", you sigh, leaning against the warm touch of his palms that were still holding your face.
"What? Because he can fuck you?", Neteyam scoffs and your eyes widen in shock, your cheeks instantly burning up in bright red. "Neteyam!"
"You think I can’t do that?", he tilts his head and some of his braids sway over his shoulder with the movement, "You think the only thing your big bro can’t give you is a good fuck and that’s why you’re so desperate to find yourself a mate, hm?"
Your mouth opens and closes, but no words seem to come out as you stare at him, dumbstruck. Neteyam looks at you, a smug grin on his face and it takes several seconds for you to gather your thoughts and form and coherent response. "T-That’s not what I meant!"
"Is it not?", he smiles as if he already knew the answer to it, "I know you better than you know yourself, sweetheart. I know everything about you. I know all your dirty little secrets, all the things you like and the things you don’t. I know that the name you whimper in your sleep isn’t his and you know damn well that he isn’t the one you want."
"That’s not true!", you protest, "Mum and dad have chosen him for me and, and—"
"Do you think he could even make you cum?" He was straight up teasing you now. He didn’t even try to hide it anymore, inching closer with every word. With every step that he took closer to you, you took a step back –until your back made contact with the trunk of a big tree.
"That guy couldn’t make you feel the way that I would, if you’d just gave me chance to proof it", Neteyams voice was low as he continued, "I could make you feel so good, baby. Just let your big brother show you how you’re supposed to be treated, yeah?"
You swallow thickly at his words and you don’t even mean to, but your gaze lands on his lips for just a split second and thats all he needed from you. He almost looses himself right there when he crashes his lips against yours. Your small arms wrap themselves around his neck and you desperately try to make yourself taller by standing on your tip toes, holding him as close as you can and he can’t help but chuckle against your lips. The kiss is soft at first, almost lovingly, but Neteyam‘s starving– starving for you. He barely gave you time to breathe before he was curling his tongue around yours. Your lips are smooth, warm and you taste so incredibly sweet that he groans into the kiss.
When Neteyam eventually breaks away, you mindlessly tried to chase his lips before your eyes fluttered open and you looked up at him, face flushed red, lips swollen and wet with salvia. You looked like a desperate mess, all for him and no one else. The sight alone was almost too much for him to handle.
His hands then slowly begin to untie your top, but when it falls to the ground, you instinctively cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to cover yourself. Your brother playfully tsks at that, "Don’t get shy on me now, pretty girl. There’s nothing I haven’t seen before anyways." And you know he was right. He had seen you naked countless of times, when you were swimming together or bathed in the river or when it was simply too hot to sleep with any clothes on.
Hesitantly, you lower your arms and expose your chest to him. A smile stretches over his lips at the sight of your soft looking breasts and he reaches out to touch and knead them. His thumb gently brushes over your nipple to pull these sweet little gasps out of you. The ones that he usually only heard when you were having those special kind of dreams or were touching yourself, without knowing that your stepbrother was just pretending to be asleep right next to you.
When he tugs on your nipple, you can’t help the moan fall from your parted lips and Neteyam could feel his cock throb at the sound. He then makes quick work getting rid of the only piece of clothing he wore, discarding his loincloth to the mossy forest floor. Your gaze instantly falls to his cock, standing hard and proud in the air. There was already a bead of pre-cum forming at the tip and you can’t help the way your mouth waters from just looking at it. Neteyam seems to realize that as well, now leaning in close so his lips were almost touching your ear as he spoke, "C‘mon, baby, touch it. It’s okay."
Carefully, you reach your hands out to touch his hard length. He‘s heavy in your palms, too big for you to entirely close your hands around it. You give him an experimental stroke, ever so slowly that his hips buck and you could feel it twitch in your hands. Neteyam grunts in pleasure. The friction of your soft palms was so pleasurable to him, that some of his pre-cum spilled over and dribbled down to land on your thigh. "Yeah just like that. See, I’m all hard for you", he whispers against the shell of your ear and you shudder, clenching your thighs together to gain some desperately needed friction yourself.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, where your skin is so soft and he can’t help but kiss and suck on it, leaving dark purple marks for Tarem to see and hopefully make him never want to talk to you ever again.
"'Teyam", you really had the nerve to whimper his name like that, like a plea for him to do something– anything, whatever he’d like. You would take it all, he was sure of it. Because you were his good girl. The absolute best.
"What’s wrong, my precious baby sister, hm? Tell me what you want", he says with a grin on his face and your cheeks turn pink as you’re forced to word it out. "M-More, please. Want more…" It’s barely above a whisper but Neteyam knows. He would know what you need, even without words.
His fingers slip under the waistline of your loincloth and he pulls it down, leaving you completely exposed before him. Neteyam‘s eyes widen slightly and then his eyes are narrowing in on you, like a predator catching sight of its prey, as he took you all in. Your tail nervously sways from side to side as you squirm under his intense gaze.
"You’re so pretty, baby", he sighs, his eyes fixed on your core, "There’s no way anyone else will ever be allowed to see that cute little pussy of yours, except for me." He then reaches out and gently slides a finger through your folds, collecting your slickness and smearing it up to your clit, where he lazily rubs a few slow circles. Instantly, your hips jerk forward to meet his touch.
Knowing that he was the reason for the slickness between his stepsisters legs made Neteyam feel dizzy. At first you were subtle about it, but now you desperately tried to grind against his palm, tears pricking at your eyes when his touch isn't enough anymore.
Neteyam chuckles and closes his teeth around your earlobe, briefly. He’s careful with the sharp tips of his canine grazing across your skin and you shiver under his touch again.
He hisses when he finally slides a finger into your waiting cunt and you moan, so sweet that it makes his cock twitch in your palms. He swiftly adds another finger, his pace increasing as he brings you to a begging, tear-eyed mess. The sound of your whines and moans start to increase in volume, your hands leaving his cock to find leverage on his arms. He adds his thumb to draw tight circles on the tiny pearl between your folds and instantly, he feels your knees buckle.
With a sound somewhere between a laugh and a purr, he curves his fingers a little more and thrusts them faster, matching the rhythm of his thumb until you’re moaning his name like a prayer.
"See how good I can make you feel? You think Tarem could do that?", he asks rhetorically and with a smug grin on his face. He could feel that you were close, your spongy walls pulling his digits further in and then he flicks his thumb one last time and you falls apart with a silent scream. "There you go, my sweet girl", he encourages and holds you firm against the tree trunk when your legs finally give out, "That’s it. Feels so fucking good right? Hm I bet it does, can feel you squeeze my fingers." You can only nod your head at that, face flushed and teeth biting into your lower lip to prevent yourself from being too loud.
He then slides his fingers out of you, in awe of the strings of slick connecting them. Your legs feel like jelly and you have to stable yourself on his forearms, your breathing still rapid from your orgasm. Neteyam leans forward to whisper lowly in your ear, "I‘m gonna make you feel even better now, would you like that? You’re gonna let your big bro fuck you?"
"Y-Yes", you splutter, a little ashamed that you answered him so quickly, "Please 'Teyam, I need it so bad."
"I know, baby, I know", he chuckles lightly.
His hands blindly find the underside of your knees and then he lifts you off the ground. You clutch to him, your arms thrown around his neck and legs instinctively wrapped around Neteyam’s middle. Like this, you could already feel the thick head of his cock prodding against your slick entrance. With both hands on your bottom, he carefully sinks you down on his length. He presses himself past your tight opening and further inside and relishes in the obscene sounds that you make. He let’s you whine at the stretch, moan with the effort of taking his cock and sweat beading on your forehead. "You’re so tight. Fuck– but you’re taking me so well, like you were made for me. That cute little pussy was made to take my cock, just mine and no one else’s", he moans once he has fully bottomed out.
Your stepbrother fucks you in shallow thrusts at first. Three inches in before he draws all the way out. You cling to his shoulders, your thighs framing his hips. It’s just moans and heavy breathing and the sound of flesh against flesh echoing through the forest for a while.
Vaguely, you feel yourself leak more and more of your slickness and your body welcomes him with every stroke. Snapping his hips forward, you moan out loud. Each pounding thrust he gives you knocks the very air from your lungs and you can feel yourself tightening even more. He slowly begins to set up a brutal rhythm, pistoning in and out of your body roughly, the tip of his cock pressing against your g-spot at just the right angle.
"'Teyam, feel’s so good, you’re gonna make me cum", you brabble out between high pitched moans. Hearing you call his name like that when you were squeezing him so tight had awakened a very primal part of him. Neteyam wants to mark you, to claim you, and so he reaches behind your back, feeling for your braided hair. With your tswin in hand, he presents those tiny, pinkish tendrils in front of your face. Your eyes widen when he sticks his salvia covered tongue out, teasing to touch them. "N-No, not there it’s— ah!", you squeak when he actually does, your tendrils making contact with that warm, wet muscle and it felt like he was actually fucking your brain out now. Simultaneously, his cock thrusts up into you and you choke on a moan. "Yes, yes right– right there, right there", you could feel that familiar, addicting, tension building up in your core and like the teasing big brother that he was, Neteyam chuckles.
He retreats his tongue, but swiftly moves to grab his own tswin and holds both of their ends close together. The tips of your tendrils dare to touch at any second and you’re too lost in your own pleasure to even think about the consequences. The coil in your stomach tightens dangerously, prompting you to curl your toes while he presses you harder against the tree. Your back stings from the friction of your soft skin against the rough bark, but you’re far too fucked out to care.
"Where, baby? Right here?", Neteyam thrusts up in you particularly hard and— he connects them, forming the tsaheylu bond.
Neteyam watches your eyes roll back into your head, your mind completely overcome by the sensations coursing through your body that you’re unable to respond to him with words, while his own eyes dilate. Both of you were now feeling not only your own, but also the other ones pleasure. And that’s enough to finally drive you over the edge. You cum with a sound that’s a mixture between a sob and a moan and your arms around him tighten enough to make him unable to breathe for a few seconds.
"Holy shit", Neteyam groans as he continues to pound into you, unable to think of anything else asides from the way your walls tighten around his throbbing cock. "Gonna cum inside you. Can’t hold back, I just need to fill you up, gonna fuck my cum into you and— ah shit!" He plunges into you, one, two, three more times and then follows you, coming with a groan of your name, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. He fills you with his cum, all the way to the hilt and he could literally feel you feel it, thanks to the tsaheylu bond connecting you both.
He shivers once he has pumped the last bit of his pleasure into you, feeling it leak around his cock and dribble down his balls.
"Fuck", Neteyam exhales a shaky breath, once’s he’s able to form articulated words again, "You better keep it in there, pretty girl. Want you to walk back to Tarem with my cum dripping down your legs and tell him to fuck off, understand?"
You could only hum in agreement, a tired sigh leaving your lips as you continued to cling to him, relishing in the warmth and comfort of his body as he held you close.
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skeletondeerart · 1 year
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Hey! I was wondering if you could write headcanons for Lo'ak dating a female human?
Dating Lo'ak as a Human
Lo'ak x Fem!Sky Person | Word Count: 340 Words
The reader is the same age as Lo’ak.
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Lo’ak would always try his best to impress you, whether that be hanging from the branches by just his tail or landing a perfect bullseye, he thrived off the praise you so willingly gave him.
He would pick you up and carry you on his back just to show off how strong he was, you would laugh as Lo’ak would sprint along the forest floor, jumping over roots and bioluminescent flora and fauna.
Lo’ak would take you to his secret spots to enjoy the sunset as he would braid your hair while adding beads to match his own, like a subtle way to say you were taken.
Some nights he would lay awake and watch you sleep and marvelling at your features that are so foreign to his own kind, gently caressing your features and feeling the peach fuzz against his fingertips, a smile overtaking his features as you lean into his touch.
Wrapping his tail around your legs as you sleep while curling around you, shielding you from the bitter winds of the night.
Him caging you in his arms and nuzzling into your hair when you are trying to wake up to start the day as he just wants to enjoy the warmth of your body heat for a little while longer.
He would take you on flights with his Ikran, due to you not possessing a queue and doing flips and dives just you feel you hug him closer to your form.
Lo’ak loves to hear you sing your ‘sky people songs’ and he ends up humming them while you're apart.
Lo’ak teaching you Na’vi and you teaching him English <3
Lo’ak would get jealous if Spider or Neteyam would talk to you, he would walk up behind you and place a hand on the crest of your head while giving a tight-lipped smile to his brothers.
Secretly holding hands when Neytiri and Jake aren’t looking and quickly turning away from each other when Jake sneaks up behind the both of you and ruffles your hair laughing.
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