#she was tall and skinny even before dying

[deadghosy]

HAZBIN HOTEL HEADCANNONS WITH ENDERMAN! READER

Prompt: a 9’5 creature comes by and randomly builds the crew things.

ITS ACTUALLY FUNNY CAUSE IMAGINE YOU BEING CHARLIE IN THIS SITUATION-

You hear a knock at the front door of the hazbin hotel and open it to see a 9’5 TALL ASS PERSON WITH DARK PURPLE SKIN WITH SMALL PURPLE FRECKLES SCATTERED AROUND THEIR BODY….

Immediately door slam like Alastor got in the pilot….

She kept reopening the door as you finally got tired of that bullshit and teleported inside as you croaked…your jaw unhinging in a weird attractive way as your eyes were blinded by a black blindfold.

“Uhm sir? Are you here for the hotel?” Charlie asked as you nodded turning slowly with a croak. You pulled out a wrench ready to show how you wanted to work for her. Charlie smiled awkwardly as she shows you around the place. Literally you had to duck a lot to the point you had to crawl like a baby just to fit in the room…

Embarrassing it is…..

But at least you can kinda shapeshift a bit to 3 feet less as you are at 6’5 which made the others feel a lot more comfortable about you being comfortable in this height as you still kinda crouch to pet keekee.

I feel like Lucifer will like you personally because of how you like to build and take things apart to renew things. So he definitely brings you in his workshop as he rants about his duck collection as you slightly grumble unconsciously as purple pixels fly around beside you.

Dead ass…you are beautiful with your purple ender eyes they glow behind your blindfold in the dark…the hotel cast and even say as they would see them from afar at night.

I headcannon Enderman! Reader to have slight muscles but is really strong despite their skinny look. But really they/he has a nice build under his working clothes.

Vaggie was shocked to see you teleport away before she could prick you with her angelic spear. She definitely had Alastor keep a look on you…but you only built and fixed around the hotel like a handy man.

I can see Angel dust taking a picture of you while you are behind him working having your sleeves up as you work as the Snapchat caption says, “He’s working hard to please me” as a joke. You definitely got death threats as you just stare at your hellphone confused as you block them all.

Sir Pentious has accidentally looked you in your eyes once and your unhinged jaw as you screeched at him as a static sound enters his head …it made him scared of you for almost five months until you explained and calms him down….you didn’t like to be scary to others.

Angel had told you how about how you could be a model with your skinny yet built body as you just stood then staring at him through your blindfold.

Tbh your dynamic with Angel dust is “girlboss” x “househusband” as you literally build and fix things

I bet reader built Lucifer a duck boat once as you stand there as Lucifer looks like he is about to cry in the duck boat you built as he gives you a thumbs up. It was a derpy sight but funny.

I headcannon Enderman! Reader to always pick things up, nifty including as she just smile kicking her feet back and forth with a smile. “I like em! Let’s keep him/them!”

YOU KNOW HOW IRON GOLEMS HOLD FLOWERS?! YEAH ENDERMAN!READER HOLDING FLOWERS FOR THE RESIDENTS 🦆✨

It would be funny be at a height comparison with Alastor as he just smiles as you stand there fidgeting with your hands.

I can see husk raising a brow at you like “🤨 who the hell is this guy?” As you walk a bit sluggish holding your tool box

I can also imagine reader having slight difficulty at reading the room or having social skills as they were isolated from people before dying definitely. Like you would croak softly patting Vaggie when her secret was out only for her to push you away as you were trying to say you fixed the toilet.

You stood there confused until husk just sat you down before you teleported after her.

You attacked a sinner for trying to rob you as they grabbed your blindfold in accident only to get attacked and a see an unhinged jaw…next thing they saw was a punch.

Charlie definitely cleaned you up, she was just confused who blood it was as you stay quiet and quietly croaked in your throat.

I headcannon enderman’s to have a raspy voice because they can’t talk but try to. As it’s either deep or a decent voice tone.

Imagine if enderman! Reader met the other overlords before their decrease in height as they stare up at you kinda intimidated by your height. Their necks definitely hurt 

HOPE YOU LIKE IT! 🦆✨

#Enderman!reader #enderman #minecraft #Minecraft x hazbin hotel #crossover #hazbin #hazbin lucifer #hazbin husk #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x platonic!reader #hazbin hotel x Enderman! reader #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel imagine

[lesbiankimdahyun]

Karina(g!p) meeting at a Halloween party(she’s dressed as a slutty vampire) and reader is dressed as an angel. They’ve been eyeing each other all night and eventually end up in the bathroom with reader bent over the sink and Karina fucking her from behind

happy halloween, anon!!

Corrupting an angel

2.6k words

CW: g!p, alcohol

[GP!Karina x F!Reader]

You could hear the steady pounding of bass from outside of the large brownstone apartment complex. There was no need to double check to make sure you had the right address— the music and shadows of partygoers in the fourth story windows confirmed you had arrived. 

You hesitated for a moment, but then your roommate Ryujin tugged at your arm and you followed her up to the door. She hit the buzzer so you two could be let in, finally out of the cold, late autumn air. 

As the two of you bounded up the steps, your nerves got the best of you. 

“Ryujin, promise me you won’t abandon me in there?” you asked.

Your short-haired friend laughed. “Of course not,” she said, turning to smile reassuringly at you. “Don’t worry too much, you’ve actually met some of the people here! And I’ll introduce you to anyone you don’t know.”

Ryujin was right— once inside, you realized you did recognize a few faces. Her closest friends Lia, Yeji, Yuna and Chaeryeong were already there. 

You couldn’t help but giggle at Lia’s costume. She was a big, bright red strawberry. She looked absolutely adorable, even when she accidentally bumped into people and walls. The rest were dressed as matching skeletons. 

The two of you made your way over to the group, and before either one of you could ask, Chaeryeong sighed. “We tried to get Lia to go in on the skeleton costumes with us,” she said, “but she insisted on being a goofy, oversized strawberry.” 

Lia rolled her eyes. She tried to cross her arms, but the costume was too bulky and she couldn’t. It only made her look cuter. 

“Hey! I didn’t know the costume was going to be this big! Can we drop it already?”

The rest of the group broke out into conversation, but you couldn’t really focus on it, distracted by the sights of the party. 

You’d forgotten to ask whose apartment this even was, but whoever was renting it, it looked stunning. The large space, complete with crown moulding, rounded arch hallways and exposed brick walls, was perfectly decorated for Halloween. Orange and purple string lights lined the perimeter of the ceiling, fake cobwebs were meticulously placed along the corners of windows, and there were jack-o-lanterns, real ones with tiny candles inside illuminating them, on the living room coffee table along with fake skull caps full of candy. Tall, skinny black candles lined bookshelves, a string of black paper bats shared wall space with fake, bloody claw marks running along them. 

Lia bumped into you suddenly, bringing you back to earth. 

“Sorry!” she said to you and the other girl she’d accidentally collided with. 

You glanced over to see the other girl pat Lia’s costume reassuringly. She was dressed as a vampire. Not the Nosferatu kind, though. You felt a wave of warmth rush over you. She was hot, stupidly hot, as was her costume. 

Your eyes wandered slowly over her deep red sequined corset and its revealingly low sweetheart neckline. A pair of black booty shorts covered hardly anything other than her ass, but the simple black cloak she wore over her corset helped a little. A pair of fishnets and knee high, lace up platform boots completed the look. The ends of her hair were dyed a similar deep red color, and her long acrylics were stunning– black coffin shaped nails for the occasion.

The vampire’s eyes only registered Lia for a fraction of a second. The next moment, they were on you. 

You swallowed hard, quickly looking back up to meet her eye. Her gaze was intense, and so was the brief onceover she gave you before she finally turned around and walked back to her friend group without saying a word. 

By the time you recovered from the vampire, the conversation happening around you had already picked back up. 

“I’ll be right back,” you said to Ryujin, excusing yourself. 

You made your way down the hall into the kitchen. Some of the drink options were Halloween themed, like the cauldrons full of spiked spider cider and dark purple witches brew punch, swirling with edible silver glitter. A few handles of hard liquor and mixers, as well as beer were available, but you weren’t really in the mood to taste your alcohol.

After pouring yourself a cup full of the witches brew punch, you paused for a moment to glance around at the rest of the people at the party. 

The attendees had gone all out in their costumes, too. Ryujin had warned you beforehand that anyone who wasn’t in costume wouldn’t be let in, so as much as you didn’t care for dressing up, you had to admit, the costume rule made for an even better party. You hoped some of the more impressive costumes would distract from your own. You’d felt confident in it before you left, but now felt exposed.

It was Ryujin who suggested you go as an angel when you fretted about finding a costume. “Keep it simple,” she had said. “It’s just one color.” 

“I don’t know,” you had said once you tried on the pieces she’d found for you. “This feels damn near like, genuinely sacrilegious.” 

The halo headband was cute. It was the rest of your costume that definitely wouldn’t be allowed in any real church: white thigh high stockings with chunky white heels, white satin shorts, a matching satin halter top with a white mesh bell sleeve shrug over it, and a small pair of angel wings. Those were white too, of course. 

Later, Ryujin, keeping her word, introduced you to a few of her other friends. All of them were pretty to begin with, but the fact that their costumes were a little tighter against their bodies made you unsure of where to look as you shyly said hi to a Wednesday Addams who went by Winter, a workout Barbie who introduced herself as NingNing, and a Spider-Girl named Giselle. 

You had seen a fourth girl with them earlier, that incredibly hot vampire, actually, but now she was nowhere to be seen. Ugh. You craned your neck to look for her, hoping to be introduced, but you couldn’t find her. 

Just as you and Ryujin had said bye to the other girls and turned around, you spotted her out of the corner of your eye, rejoining her friends. Damn.

You almost asked Ryujin to go back and introduce you. The punch was stronger than you thought it’d be, and you were beyond buzzed now, feeling a little more confident and sociable. You were watching the vampire flip her long, dark hair over one shoulder when Ryujin interrupted you.

“Hey, where did you get that punch?” Ryujin asked, flipping up her pirate’s eye patch for a moment to get a better look at it. “I gotta get rid of this shitty beer.” 

“I can go get you some,” you said. “I need a refill anyway.” 

In the kitchen, your back was turned to the rest of the party while you scooped up ladlefuls of punch for you and Ryujin. Suddenly you heard a voice behind you. 

“How’d an angel like you wind up in such a sinful party?” 

You were about to scoff at whoever had just spoken to you when you paused– it wasn’t a man’s voice. You were used to cocky, suggestive comments from men, but the voice that had just addressed you was feminine.

You turned around to see the girl you’d been glancing at all night long– the hot vampire. 

“Wh-what?” Shit. You forgot to think about what you were going to say before turning around. 

The vampire smirked, merely raising an eyebrow in response to your question. “Do I… know you?” she asked. 

You shook your head. “I’m Ryujin’s roommate. I’m Y/N.” 

“Nice to meet you,” the girl replied. “I’m Karina.”

“Karina,” you repeated with a little nod. “Nice to meet you, too. I like your costume,” you said. 

The vampire’s smirk grew bigger. “I know you do,” she said. “Unless that wasn’t you leering at me earlier tonight?” 

You blushed, eyes widening. “Oh, I- I’m sorry–”

Karina moved in, pressing herself against you lightly as she took your drink out of your hand and set it down on the countertop next to Ryujin’s. “It’s okay,” she said, taking your hand. “Can’t seem to keep my eyes off you, either.” 

The next thing you knew, you were being pushed up against the bathroom sink with Karina’s lips kissing a trail down the back of your neck. Ryujin and the rest of the party had completely faded from your brain. You were soaked now, clit throbbing in anticipation. 

The vampire looked up at you for a moment, making eye contact with you in the mirror before pulling your shorts and underwear down in one fell swoop. Your wings were the next to go, and she took a moment to admire you before continuing on. 

Karina palmed your ass with one hand while she used her other to slide her shorts down, freeing her hardening cock. 

She held your waist steady as she slipped it between your legs, rubbing her cock against your wet folds. 

“A condom..?” she breathed, reaching up past you toward the medicine cabinet behind the large bathroom mirror. 

“I-I’m on the pill,” you replied a little too eagerly. Karina let out an amused huff. 

“Well then,” she said, bending you over farther, “be a good little lamb for me.”

The pet name and the sensation of her sliding into you made your legs nearly give out. She let you take a few moments to adjust to her. You hadn’t even gotten a good look at her cock but the way you pulsed around her let you know she was plenty big. 

The vampire let out a soft moan. 

“That’s it, there you go,” she cooed in your ear as she slid deeper inside you. You whimpered and she rewarded you with a kiss against your neck. 

You felt every bit as good around her cock as she thought you would. Karina closed her eyes, lost for a moment in the pleasure she felt being sheathed inside your warm, wet pussy. 

When you could finally let her move inside you, she started gently, her hands gripping your waist to support you. You were absolutely soaked, and the sounds of her thrusting became even more lewd as your wetness added to them. 

“Fuck,” she groaned. The vampire picked up her pace and it left you nearly breathless, unable to do anything but take her pounding and let out small, humiliating repetitive cries with each stroke. 

Your added slick allowed her to fuck you at an even faster pace. She leaned down over you, making you bend over further for her. At this new angle, you fell apart while she split you open. 

Gone were your soft cries, replaced with more raw, desperate moans. She felt so good inside of you; it had been ages since you felt this full and sated. 

Karina laughed as your cries grew louder. “Does it feel that good, angel? So good you want everyone to know how much you like being fucked right now?”

You could only moan in response, too focused on keeping the vampire inside of you to worry about the rest of your surroundings. You arched your back as much as you could, trying to entice her more. 

It worked. “Jesus,” Karina murmured. “You look just as good as you feel…” her eyes closed for a moment, losing her pace. When she resumed though, you knew you were really in for it. 

Karina’s thrusts became harsher, deeper, but also sloppier. She panted in your ear; her breath on your neck made you shiver. 

“Gonna cum,” she grunted. “You feel too fucking good.”

“I-In me,” you pleaded, knowing you must’ve looked as desperate as you sounded. “You can cum in me.”

Karina looked up at your reflection, catching your eye in the mirror. “Yeah?” she asked. You gulped. Her eyes were wild with desire. You nodded, and when she grinned in response, it sent an excited chill down your spine. 

The vampire took off again, plowing into you at a brutal, desperate pace that thrilled you. 

“Fuck, oh fuck,” she cursed, and then her hips slammed against you the hardest they ever had. You gasped when you felt it— Karina spilling her load in you. She continued to fuck into you as she came, bringing you closer to reaching your own release. 

Hearing your pants and whines get breathier, Karina snaked one hand around in front of you to tease your clit. 

You cried out, eyes squeezing shut as her fingers and your body fumbled for a few moments, both of you trying to find just the right angle that would— 

“Right there,” you rasped, your cunt clenching around her cock. “I’m gonna cum,” you cried, head tilting back a bit. 

Karina tsked in response. While one hand continued to circle your soaked clit, she used her other to yank your hair, making you tilt your head back up to look at the two of you in the mirror. Her thrusting hips held you in place. 

“Look at me when you cum,” she murmured, and you fought to hold her gaze. The moment you locked eyes with her, it sent you over the edge and you came around her. 

A satisfied smile crossed her lips, and then she released her hold on you. 

Catching your breath, the two of you stayed still for a minute until she could finally pull out. 

Some of her load spilled out of you, splattering beneath you on the bathroom’s tiled floor. 

You were slightly disappointed you couldn’t keep her full load in you, but Karina watched with great satisfaction. She gave your ass an appreciative slap, then squeezed your cheek in her hand.

The air was thick with more sexual tension as the two of you began to clean yourselves and the rest of the space up. The vampire helped you back into your costume, making sure your clothing was still in pristine condition. 

You tried not to look, but couldn’t help yourself from sneaking a glance at Karina while she tucked her softening cock back into her shorts. 

“Are you ready?” the vampire’s voice made you look up quickly.

“Yeah,” you said, not moving. Your nerves had returned. The music from the party outside was still just as loud, as were the conversations and laughter of partygoers, but you were anxious to see who was on the other side of the door– who, and how many, had heard you. 

“Hey, relax,” Karina said, sensing your mood shift. “It’s my party, no one’s going to say anything.”

You looked up at her curiously. “Wait— so you live here?” 

Karina unlocked the bathroom door and opened it. She led you out quickly. 

“Yeah,” she said casually, keeping your attention on her and away from some of the people nearby who definitely knew what had just happened between the two of you in there. “It’s a four bedroom. Ryujin didn’t tell you?” 

“N-no,” you stammered. You were going to say more but she was already leading you back to the main party space. Her warm hand held yours securely, but not tightly, as you weaved through the blur of people. 

She dropped your hand shortly after. You looked down, wondering why, when a familiar voice called out. 

“YN!” Ryujin said, approaching the two of you. “There you are!” Your roommate beamed at you, clearly having forgotten about the drink she asked you to get her. Instead, she held two tiny shot glasses in each hand. “Yeji and I were about to do some shots. I see you’ve met Karina.” 

You blushed. “Uh, yeah,” was all you could manage. 

“You didn’t tell me your roommate was so pretty, Ryujin,” the vampire said, stepping away. “I’m glad you came.” She winked at you, making your blush deepen. “See you around, angel.” 

#aespa imagines #aespa x fem reader #anonymous #ask #answered #aespa smut

[eywa-eveng]

ɪɪ. sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏɴᴇ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ – ᴊᴀᴋᴇ sᴜʟʟʏ, sᴜʟʟʏ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ X ᶠᴱᴹ ᴹᴱᵀᴷᴬᵞᴵᴺᴬ ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ – 12.3k

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ – angst, fluff

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs – widower!Jake, slight injury

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ – ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪɪ – ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪᴠ

ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪsᴛ – @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @amiets2 @neteyamforlife @itscheybaby @sunrays404 @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @eternallyvenus @bobojojoba69 @behindthearcane @elegantkidfansoul @goldenmoonbeam @ladylovegood-69 @myheartfollower @pinkiemme @arminsgfloll @wtf-why-do-i-gotta-do-this @onlyreadz

A storm rolled in with the darkness of eclipse, shutting the bright eye of the sky as swollen clouds blotted out the pale light of Naranawm and the stars. Wind howled through the night like screaming banshees, and waves hissed as they crashed to shore. Even now the water is still dark and turbulent, choked with seafoam as the waves rise as high as leaping nalutsa past the safety of the seawall. The small outcroppings of sand and stone are drowned in the rising tide as the storm rages on. Now, it is close to midday but the only light bleeding through the thick covering of clouds comes in bright flashes of lightning that rend the sky in splinters of gleaming white. It is as dazzling as it is dangerous.

The waves have grown high enough to splash over the hanging paths that flow like woven rivers throughout the village, wetting your feet as you return from your sister’s marui. Rain means the day is spent inside, away from the fitful waters that could easily trap even the strongest swimmer of the clan. It is a time for menial tasks, weaving, crafting, and mending. Ronal had traded your finished baskets for another filled with freshly dyed sea fronds and shells she had collected, dismissing you for the day. You sift through the materials on your way home, nearly tripping over Tuk as she sits outside your marui. 

Her legs hang dangerously over the edge of the path, the strength of the tide pushing and pulling her skinny limbs as it so pleases. Another wave could sweep her away from your marui and you’re quick to pull her away, tutting over her lack of sense until you remember this is the first storm that’s passed over Awa’atlu since her arrival. Storms do not shake the forest as they do the sea. Your arm catches her waist, lifting her to your hip to carry her inside. She is already chattering about how dull the day has been having been confined to her family’s marui all morning. 

“It is only rain.” She says as you set her down inside. She stays at your side, pacing in your shadow as you relight the torches that substitute the sun’s light. Soft shadows shiver and jump in the warm glow of the flickering firelight, tracing dark shapes across the woven walls as Tuk explores your home. It is her first time here and you don’t mind her curiosity as she leafs through your belongings. There is nothing secret to be found in the things that fill the space of your home. She stops before your weapons, yellow eyes drawing over the sea crystal blade of your largest spear. It is a weapon meant for battle and hunting. Every member of the clan has one, but you are not a hunter nor a warrior. It is something you’ve seldom touched since its construction following the completion of your rites as one of the People. Instead you keep to smaller spears and arrows when weapons are needed. 

“Rain makes the ocean hostile. Even the strongest swimmers can be trapped under a tall wave. It is best to stay out of the water until the storm has passed.” 

“But it’s so boring!” She grouses, coming up beside you with your box of beads and combs in hand. “Sa’nok, can I play with your hair?” You nod, having settled yourself to begin making something of the supplies your sister had given you. There are glimmering shells and beautifully made beads, enough to keep your hands busy for hours to come. By the time someone else comes rushing into your marui you’re nearly done knotting together the intricate pattern of a new top. Neteyam looks frantic as he ducks inside the closed flap, wiping rain from his brow. 

“Sa’nok, have you seen–Tuk!” He calms as soon as he sees his sister seated happily at your side, fingers still playing in the long waves of your hair. Her braids are thick and clumsy as she threads shells and beads into each loop but she seems content with the work she’s done. She’s gentle in her work, never pulling or tangling as she goes. 

“I have been looking for you. Do not go off without saying where you are going. You know Sempul doesn’t like that.” In the corner of your eye you see Tuk’s ears droop and she moves in closer to you, hands holding your arm for comfort as she hides her face in your hair. Neteyam’s expression softens at the sight. His voice may be lighter with youth but when he speaks it carries the weight of Jake’s words. He is the eldest son, a heavy burden to bear. It is expected that he will look after his siblings as well as his father does and the stress of it must prick at his heart the same as it does any parent’s. More so considering the blame that is laid at his feet when he fails to meet his father’s expectations. You’ve seen it when Lo’ak got himself into trouble, the great disappointment shining in Jake’s eyes as he blamed one son for the actions of another. If there are cords twining the Sully family together it pains you to imagine how frayed each of them might be. Neteyam to Lo’ak, Jake to his sons. It makes your heart heavy to think of the pain each of them bears trying to keep each other safe and happy, but it is the nature of a family. Just as the thread between you and Ronal had grown thin upon the Sullys’ arrival these things can be mended with time. It is the way of the All Mother’s great balance. In life there is both darkness and light and both must be felt equally despite the pain of it. 

“I’m not mad, Tuk,” Neteyam says finally, kneeling beside you and his sister. “I was worried.” She nods and moves from her place hidden in the thick tresses of your hair. The two of them remain by your side, talking between themselves as you continue your crafting. 

The storm wanes as the day comes to a close, thick clouds parting enough that the tied flap of the marui can be raised once more. Neteyam does it for you, eager to help when you mention the quieting winds. What had been incessant howling earlier has soothed to a soft whisper that has warmed in the soft, misting rain. The tide is still high but the water isn’t so choppy without great gusts of wind stirring the water. Tuk is quick to abandon her braiding to bask in the revealed light of eclipse. For a few minutes there’s nothing but brilliant yellow light cast over the island before it winks out like a torch being snuffed. Light is quick to return as the stars begin to shine and the darkened ocean finally finds its light as the stilled waters give way to the faint glow of syuratan hidden beneath the wavering surface. Tuk hangs over the edge, little legs kicking in the air as she sticks her head into the calmed waters. She rises with a giggling splash accompanied by the clicking of an ilu as the larger animals finally emerge from their shelter beneath the floating village. 

The rest of Awa’atlu resurfaces as well, breathing a great sigh of relief as if rising after a long dive. Children just as restless as Tuk rush to the water’s edge and she goes to play with them a small ways down the path. Her voice is still clear as you begin to prepare for dinner, lighting a cookfire and gathering ingredients. Usually the meals you prepare at home are for yourself only so it is a welcomed change to have more mouths to feed. Happiness swells like cresting waves in your chest as you watch the two of them eat, enjoying the food you’ve made for them. It is another moment of stolen motherhood. They are not your children but you feel responsible for them. For their health, for their happiness. 

It is not only because you were tsakarem. There will always be a piece of you that wants to look after the members of your clan but these children–Jakesully’s children–feel different when you think of them. It makes your heart break and mend all at once as Tuk makes herself comfortable in the cradle of your folded legs when she’s done eating, content to fall asleep against your chest as you talk with Neteyam. Your conversation is aimless as you speak over the dying cookfire, torches slowly dwindling their light until there’s only the blue glow of Pandora around you. He tells you of his exploration around the island and his training with Ao’nung and the others. 

“They laugh at me because I cannot throw a spear. I was taught to use a bow. Throwing arrows without it seems strange.” His complaint holds no malice. There is a smile playing on his lips. No longer are the arguments between the children rife with malice. Now there are only well humored jokes between friends, like teasing siblings.

“You will learn,” you hum. “It is hard to master a spear. I could not throw in a straight line for many months when I was first learning. Ao’nung was the same. Watch when you’re training. Sometimes he will still throw a bit to the left. Learning when to release takes patience.” 

It’s in the pale light that Neteyam’s face seems to change, drawing into a severe expression as his eyes empty of mirth despite your light tone. When he looks up at you again there’s something heavy and longing in his eyes. 

“I don’t know if ma sempul has said it, but thank you. For everything. I know that we are outsiders and that tsahìk Ronal did not want us here to start. But you have made this place feel like home for us. For me.” Your lips part to say something but all that forms on your tongue is his name, filled with a heavy maternal anguish. Here is this child taken from his home and all that he’s known because there are demons looking for his blood. He is fighting. Everyday he has to fight to find happiness here under such dire circumstances. There are times when you see them forget, when Awa’atlu truly seems like home but the soul doesn’t forget where it’s been. 

“Oh, Neteyam,” you say again, trying to reach for him. He lets you comfort him for only a moment before standing. 

“It is late. My father will be wondering where we are.” And like that the illusion shatters. You are not his mother. It is not your place to soothe and placate. It’s a small miracle that he does not take Tuk from your arms, that he lets you walk beside him back to his marui. Jake is still awake though Kiri and Lo’ak have gone to sleep for the night. He takes Tuk from you to lay her down in her usual place and you take a steadying breath before placing a hesitant hand on Neteyam’s head. His shoulders raise for a moment, tail stiffening behind him before he slowly relaxes and leans into your touch. 

He wants to be comforted, you realize, but it seems that he’s gone without for so long that he’s forgotten how to accept it. Not for the first time your thoughts stray to his mother. She’s little more than a wisp of a thought in your mind, vague and undefined. It’s the one thing you can’t bring yourself to ask them about despite the itching in the back of your head to know even as little as her name. But the thought of her must be like a healing wound to the family she’s left behind and you won’t be the one to tear at their scars until they’re bleeding anew. 

Neteyam leans against your side, not hugging but allowing you to smooth over his braids for a moment longer until he squares his shoulders and steps away. His eyes are towards his feet, avoiding your knowing gaze as he bids you goodnight. There’s a hesitance in his steps as if he is forcing himself towards his own bedroll in the marui. Whatever comfort he has taken in your gentle touch has soothed and disturbed his soul in equal parts. There’s conflict in his eyes when you finally see them flashing in the darkness of their home. He wants to accept your affection but something is holding him back. Before you can ask Jake takes his son’s place beside you, pulling you away from the sleeping children towards the beach. The water is colder than usual and nearly to your knees as the shore is buried beneath the heightened tide. 

“I missed you today.” He says as he pulls you further into the water. There are others around, already enjoying the ocean’s embrace after going a day without it. The air is filled with the hushed sounds of laughter and lapping water. 

“I heard you were out hunting.” Ronal had given you simple chores today but Tonowari was nowhere to be seen each time you went to deliver your mending and weaving to your sister. You assumed he’d taken a small party inland to hunt in the flooded rivers as they usually do when the ocean becomes inhospitable. Jake has proved to be a skilled hunter in the time since he’s arrived at Awa’atlu and it’s curried him favor with the olo'eyktan. 

“Yeah,” he groans, rolling his shoulders back. 

“Are you tired? You should rest.” Your ears perk up in concern.

“Nah, I’d rather spend time with you.” It makes your heart flutter in your chest but the happiness is dampened by the feeling of selfishness. This man is not yours and yet he makes your heart soar with only a few words. It isn’t fair to him or yourself to be so fixated on the feeling but you can hardly help the way you feel. If it were possible to tear the roots of affection from your chest and leave only thoughts of a newly kindled friendship, you would do it without hesitation. But Eywa was seen fit to fill your vitra with dangerous desire. You want to ask the Great Mother what she wants with you, why she’s chosen to test you in this way, but it will do no good. The seed has been planted and you must helplessly watch it blossom despite the inevitability of your feelings wilting in the face of rejection.

In the pale blue light of the watchful eye above, you decide to toss those thoughts to the wind. Jake is smiling at you like he’s never seen anything lovelier than your face in the starlight and it makes you want to be reckless with your heart if only for one night. Before eclipse breaks and the sun returns you’ll pretend that this man is yours no matter the pain that will come later. 

“Come. I will race you to the seawall.” It is a game played between more novice swimmers, children trying to prove their prowess amongst their friends but Jake smiles anyway. Nì’eveng you’ve taken to calling him. Childish. The look on his face is nothing but playful as you both dive into the open water. There is no doubt that you’ll beat him. Even as he’s steadily improved in the water he still isn’t built for the ocean the same as you. Your body is strong from your arms to your tail and Jake is woefully behind by the time you climb onto the lowest levels of the terraces. They’re alight with shades of green, blue, and purple that shine brighter with each step you take towards the top. But Jake is faster on land, longer legs easily bounding up the terraces until he catches you by the waist just before you reach the top. It’s the closest the two of you have ever been as he swings you in a circle until your laughter echoes across the darkened sky. His arms don’t move when he sets you down. Instead his face finds the column of your neck, purrs sounding in your ears as his nose traces over the rippling stripes of your skin. 

“Got you.” His voice is an entrancing drawl that sends a shiver down your spine. It feels as if the world has tilted and only you feel the shift as Jake’s hands soothe over your waist, keeping you close to his chest as he noses behind your ear. It’s intimate in a way you’ve never experienced. There has never been anyone to court you, to treat you with such affection. No man of the Metkayina would dare even after Tonowari passed over you in favor of your sister. Yet here is this man from a place you’ve never seen, giving you everything that you’ve ever wanted.

“You caught me.” You agree and Jake laughs against the shell of your ear. He mumbles something as he squeezes you closer. You turn in his arms, face drawn in confusion. 

“Always,” he says again. “I’ll always catch you.” His forehead presses to yours bright eyes clouding your vision of anything other than him. 

“I’m not running.” It’s a lie but you say it to preserve the fantasy. Just for this night you want to pretend that you belong to him in truth. 

“You are.” He says and the illusion is shattered. His arms around you begin to feel too tight and his breath too close as it washes over your parted lips. This isn’t how you should be acting with a mated man no matter how you feel towards him. But when you try to pull away his arms tighten. 

“There you go again. What are you running from, girl?” You shake your head, voice lost somewhere in your throat as you try to do exactly what you’ve said you aren’t. You want to run away but your heart will stay with you. These feelings of yours won’t be easily abandoned as they beat in your chest like a drum. They will follow you no matter how far you go. You don’t get farther than turning away from him before he has you in his arms again. His hand settles over your thumping heart, fingertips tracing over the shape of your tattoo. 

“I feel you,” he says, hand moving from your fluttering heart to your throat, “I hear you.” Your breathing comes in stuttered draws, lungs suddenly constricted with the wave of emotions crashing inside you. “I See you.” He says finally, lips caressing your ear. When your shuddering breaths calm he turns you to face him again. All that beams in his eyes is sincerity. Yearning and something close to desperation. He wants you to accept him. 

“You’re not mine.” It’s a warbled cry as tears swell in your eyes. 

“I’m yours. I’m all yours, yawne.” It makes your knees go weak and you fall from his arms, landing gracelessly in the water at your feet. 

“I can’t do this.” Jake flinches back, his hands falling from where they’d been reaching out to you. “You’ve mated with another. I can’t have you.” 

Never have you heard of a mated pair in which one of them had been mated before. When a mate dies, that does not make room for another. Tsaheylu is sacred, shared only between two lovers. What Jake is asking is something your heart cannot understand. The thoughts of the woman you’ve never met, the woman that came before you, keeps you from letting yourself love him fully. He is hers. Whatever part of him wants you now, it is not the whole of him. It is inevitable that when mates are separated by death, a part of the living dies with the one that went to Eywa. He will always be hers before he is yours. Or perhaps Jakesully will be different as he is in all things. 

He is Na’vi but he was also tawtute. It was Eywa that decided his fate as Toruk Makto, that allowed him to have the body that he does today. Perhaps you are simply another part of his fate. Another bead in his songcord. Each thought swims through your head quicker than the last, growing more absurd with each passing moment. It would be so easy to ignore it, to reach out and be with Jake in the way that he’s asking you to. But your heart is delicate, your soul conflicted. He isn’t yours. And yet he is. His heart is in his hands as he stares at you, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Don’t cry, pretty girl. You’ve got me. I’m here. Whenever you want me, I’m here. I promise.” He carries you home once you’ve cried yourself dry, laying you down and pressing a kiss to your forehead before going to join his children. It breaks your heart to watch him leave but it is where he belongs. His children will always need him more than you. A lonely tsakarem will always pale in comparison to the remnants of the life he led before you met. His mate, their children. If you accept him it will be as if you are a mismatched bead looped at the end of a bracelet. Dull and out of place. 

For once you do not rise with the sun as it breaks from behind Naranawm’s shadow. There’s a soreness in your eyes as you try to shield them from the burning white light of the morning sun as it burns unfettered after spending a day under heavy clouds. Tears have dried on your cheeks and Tuk’s braids have become tangled and undone after what was surely a fitful sleep. You remove them slowly, collecting all the ornaments she added as they fall into your lap. There are things that need to be done, tasks that need completing, but you ignore those responsibilities to hide your face in the forest. You take your time in bathing and cleaning your hair, spending too long in the memories of the hands that touched you last night. It’s as if he’s still with you. So gentle and earnest as he caressed your skin. 

The memories linger like a bruise when you finally drag yourself from the bathing pool, sore and shameful. Once you’ve dressed you abandon the village to visit the one place you’ve been avoiding since the moment you met Jakesully. There was fear in your heart at the thought of bonding with the Ranteng Utralti. Fear of what the Great Mother might show you, what your ancestors might tell you. It still lingers even as you leave your ilu to bask in the pale purple light of the glowing fronds of the spirit tree. Tree spirits swim around you, yellow fish shining bright as stars. The waters around the tree are deserted aside from the animals. No one to judge your hesitancy to commune with Eywa after so long. The fronds of the tree sway in the gentle current, waiting patiently for you to gather the courage to make tsaheylu. It nearly knocks the breath from your lungs when you finally join your tswin to the tree. 

There are no thoughts in your mind as you join Eywa. There is no one that you want to see, no ancestor you wish to visit, but the Great Mother embraces you still. It feels like the gentlest hug as the colors flashing behind your eyes fades to something tangible yet distant all the same. 

Eywa has brought you to a place you do not know. It is like the deep forest of Awa’atlu yet different. The air doesn’t carry the scent of the sea. It smells rich and loamy as thick grass cushions each of your curious steps. Trees that seem to touch the sky grow around you and sunlight peaks through the leaves in dappled beams, warming your skin for only a moment before you pass beneath another shadow. In the richly colored forest you look out of place. Skin bright as polished river stone, beaming through the deep greens of the foliage. You walk until you see something of interest. The trees thin to a small clearing and you stop in your tracks. The vision wavers as you fight against what the Great Mother has to show you, shimmering like heat rising off sand before solidifying as you force your heartbeat to calm. 

A long structure sits before you. Grayish black the same as the buzzing ikran that had carried Norm and Max across the ocean. Metal, Jake had called it. You’ve only ever heard the word. It is part of the Na’vi Way set by the Three Laws of Eywa. Never use metals from the ground. It is something made from digging and stripping the earth. Harmful. It tosses off beams of light as you slink closer, staying close to the ground despite the lack of danger. There’s another metal beast in the clearing. Seemingly broken and covered in moss and vines. Inside is a small headless skeleton with two arrows through its ribs. Tawtute. They have been dead for long enough to turn to bone and yet their strange metal body has not returned to the earth it was stripped from. Even the well-made arrows have gathered rot where Eywa has begun to reclaim them. 

It seems so unnatural for the metal to be so unflinching and yet you can’t temper your curiosity. You lean closer only to burn your hands on the shiny beast as if you’ve touched an open flame. Whatever this metal material is, it collects heat like a black stone left in the sun. The tawtute structure is just as smoldering beneath your skin as you vault inside. The floor makes a sound like shifting seashells as you land, a strange material like shards of crystal tinkling underfoot as you slink through the small space, crouching in the unaccommodating space. It feels odd to find yourself in a place like this and yet this is where Eywa wants you to be. 

There is a Law against things like this. Laying brick, building that which cannot be renewed or replenished. Metal remains. It is cold inside despite the sun shining just beyond the opening in the wall, and very little of Pandora has dared to reach inside. This is a place of sawtute and the forest recognizes that. Nothing other than pollen and lichen has found its way inside. There is something here for you. Something Eywa needs you to see among the ruins of the sawtute. There’s a childlike curiosity to your exploration as you pick through the remains of the banished demons. 

There are strange pieces of color, thin as leaves cut into neat shapes. They’re untouched by rot yet the colors seem wrong, slightly faded like an old mat left in the sun. There are people captured in the strange, dull threads of color. Two of them look familiar in a distant way, like you’d seen them from afar but only once. It isn’t until you bring the tiny thing close to your face that you realize you’ve seen pieces of these women in other people. Their eyes, their noses. Small details that you’ve noticed in others. The uniltìrantokx is even wearing a necklace you’ve seen before though it takes you a beat to place who’d worn it.

“Kiri?” The frozen memory jumps from your fingers like you’ve been struck and crystal shards dig into your knees as you stumble to the ground. The sharp pain rushes through you with startling vividness. Never have you been harmed while cradled in the Great Mother’s arms and the pain disrupts the vision, twisting and changing it as you try to stand. Light contorts and a sharp pain splits through your head, thrusting you back into your body with an aborted gasp. 

Bubbles cloud your vision as you try to calm your racing mind. Who were those women with faces so familiar they seemed nearly tangible. Your mind races as your lungs pinch with exertion after all your air left in a warbled cry. Air seems far out of reach as you swim towards the light of the sun kissing the gentle waves. You surface with a strangled shout that echoes across the floating islands of the Cove, only treading water long enough to catch your breath. Your heart thunders in your chest as your ears cloud with the sound of your rushing blood. It takes all your focus to force your body to silence, to calm. Absently, you check your knees for blood, half expecting to find shards still embedded in your skin. When you find nothing other than the pattern of your skin your heart steadies enough for you to dive again. This time there is no hesitation as you connect to the Ranteng Utralti. There is a place for you in what Eywa has shown you. Everyone lives within the Great Mother. She remembers. Someone had been there before you. Someone precious to you. The Great Mother knows your heart, knows what it is you seek. A purpose. An answer. 

Show me, you whisper in your mind. Tell me. 

The vision is different as the flashing colors fade to night, the seldom patches of sky alight with stars and a gentle breeze lifting the curls of your hair as you stand at the precipice of a spiraling tree root. The sounds floating through the darkness are so different from the steady lapping of water. There is life all around you, just beyond sight as your footsteps stir up bursts of green syuratan. Everything feels new, like you’re a child again as you walk along the path the Great Mother has set you on. Specks of white like tanhì glow through the soft light of blue and purple leaves overhead, drifting on the faint breeze. They descend like a gentle rain and feel just as faint as one lands in your outstretched hand. More follow, tickling across your skin as they turn your body a pure shade of white. Eywa’s presence strengthens with each one that brushes against you and you realize they must be atokirina’. So different from the radiant seeds of your own spirit tree and yet the feeling is the same. 

They dance over your body like lapping waves before departing in a glimmering cloud. It would be lovely to watch them float away if an echoing screech didn’t follow their departure. You don’t dare to turn and face what made such a deafening noise. Instead you clumsily sprint towards cover, wide tail doing little to balance your strides as you find an alcove in a tree to hide yourself. The bark is rough against your skin after being so gently touched by the hands of the Great Mother and your vision wavers once more as fear punches through your chest in an acidic burst. Never have you encountered danger when connected to the Ranteng Utralti. Never have you known Eywa to lead those seeking guidance into peril. But you’ve been hurt, you’ve bled. And now another shriek crashes through the quiet of the forest, echoing eerily through the treetops. The distant branches seem to shudder, shedding leaves as something crashes through the foliage. Is this the result of your covetous heart? The Great Mother turning her back on you?

A scream rips from your throat, nearly burning with its intensity as a giant ikran descends through the hole it’s torn through the canopy. The roots shudder beneath its mighty weight as it lands where you’d been standing and your thick limbs tremble clumsily, hands tucking into the groves of the tree bark to keep yourself upright and hidden. This beast is like no ikran you’ve ever seen though you’ve seen so few in the distant atolls of the Metkayina. Yet this one seems intrinsically different. Large and bright in the night as it spreads its fearsome wings, fanged jaw opening to let out another bellow that has your ears folding tight against your head. A pained noise slips from your lips as its voice splits through your head and it’s enough to draw the creature’s attention to you. Its eyes seem to find you even in the shadows and you’re reminded that the two of you are bright beings in a darkened forest. For a moment your heart stops and yet the beast doesn’t charge, doesn’t let out another terrifying scream. Instead it sits as if waiting for you to show yourself. 

Every instinct carved into you since birth begs you to stay hidden and yet, with hesitant steps, you emerge from your hiding place. If this is your punishment for daring to think a man like Jake could ever be yours then you’ll have to face it. 

The ikran fixes its four eyes on you, wings spreading to block anything but the warm shades of its striped skin. It is the color of the sun in a sea of shades of green and blue, a torch over the ocean. A fire, your mind sings. Wings like flames. The song of Toruk Makto. It is one you remember well, sung more often in the years after the sawtute were banished from Pandora. The ikran before you is no ikran. It is toruk. Last Shadow. A breath leaves you in an awed rush as tears begin to burn in your eyes. Toruk stays as still as an animal can be as you approach him. There is still fear in your heart, something instinctual that is sewn into the very fabric of your soul. And yet it bleeds away as you reach to touch him. Part of you still expects a quick reproach, a snap of his mighty jaw to remove your hand. But he only shifts his weight and watches as you touch the blue crests of his head. Any fear still lingering in your chest dissipates at the feeling of his head in the palm of your small hand. 

You came to the Great Mother with a storm wailing inside you, burying you beneath the dark waters of uncertainty, and she has eased it. All at once the dark clouds of your conflicted spirit seem to part and warmth blooms in its place. Toruk shuts his eyes and leans further into your hand as if he too can feel the stillness finally easing inside you. 

He is your answer. Eywa has heard you. 

The days that follow pass in a haze. Even as your heart has been soothed your mind is still racing. It’s all you can do to pick up with your daily tasks, to pretend the Great Mother hasn’t just laid a magnificent blessing into your hands. 

“Sa’nok, watch me!” Naleyä squeals before gulping in a deep breath and diving to the bottom of the pool, drawing you out of your own head. The tide pools are still overflowing after the storm and it’s made the children more confident now that the water has grown a bit deeper. They’re light as seabirds floating on their round tummies as they paddle in circles around you, daring to dive for a few moments before resurfacing with little gasps and eager smiles. It’s still shallow enough that you could reach Naleyä just by bending down but she seems determined to prove how well she’s learned as she picks up a shell resting at the bottom to bring you when she resurfaces. Mu’rak intercepts the gift, curious fingers taking the shell before he passes it to you for approval. It’s a simple shell. Flat and ridged, the color of a pinkish sunrise. You’ve collected many of them in your life but each is just as precious as the last. More so when gifted by one of your students. You press the shell to your lips before tucking it away in your medicine pouch. 

“Me!” Peylil says, already filling his lungs with a big gust of air but you deflate him with a pinch of your fingers on his puffed cheeks. He’s young, too young to have even fully grown his tswin braid. He’s eager to follow but he’s only just learned to swim, hands still gripping cautiously at your loincloth to keep from floating too far in the pool. It will take some time before he is ready to dive, even in the shallowest of waters. He pouts up at you and for a moment he almost reminds you of Tuk. The thought is easily plucked away by the sound of a horn. It isn’t the same sound that had announced the arrival of the Sullys and there are no swooping silhouettes emerging from the haze of sunlight. Instead your eyes find the break in the sprawling seawall that lines the horizon. A rush of water rises like a cloud and through the mist comes the familiar crest of a tulkun. In an instant the feelings sitting like stones in your chest turn to dust and fall away. The tulkun have returned. 

Once more Awa’atlu stops but there isn’t a storm to dampen this day. Everything has been abandoned to welcome the tulkun home. It is a time for reunions. For stories of what has come to pass since the tulkun last graced the waters of Awa’atlu. Whatever thoughts still lingers in your head are lost in the face of sharing this moment with those you hold dearest. The children are gathered quickly by their parents eager to introduce the younglings to their spirit family. You set off to find the children that have claimed your heart, but Kiri is the only one left inside when you reach the Sully marui looking as downtrodden as she’s been in the weeks since her seizure. It makes you wonder what the Great Mother might have shown her on that day. You’ve yet to mention what you’d seen of her mother, but if Eywa blessed with a meeting with toruk, then Kiri could’ve seen something truly amazing. And yet she hasn’t spoken of what she saw or who she spoke to. It isn’t your place to ask. Connection to the spirit tree is a private commune with the Great Mother and you won’t begrudge her that.

This will not erase her pain but it is your hope that it will ease her spirit even for a moment. Kiri shines so brightly with the light of Eywa and she will surely bloom in the majesty of the tulkun. She barely looks up when you enter the marui, ears lifting only slightly to acknowledge you despite the smile you feel overtaking your face. 

“Kiri, come!” When she doesn’t move you guide her to her feet with gentle hands. She returns the soft touch though she is hesitant to heed your urging towards the water. 

“What?” She groans but her attitude does little to deter you. She is still young, still hurting. Her words are only as harsh as whatever she is feeling and you’re eager to soothe her pains. 

“What is it?” Her voice stops short as you finally guide her outside. She squints in the sun and you wonder when she last left home. For a moment your smile falls and you turn to look at her fully, holding her hands in yours as you look her over with the sharp eyes of a tsakarem. She is the same as you last saw her. Still dulled. Her light has dimmed and it aches your heart to see her faith slip. Eywa has not turned her back on Kiri. It’s clear to see in the way the fish seem to gravitate towards her as you lead her into the water. They mingle around her ankles like they’re caught in a whirling tide but she hardly notices as her eyes take in the spectacle playing out over the horizon. Yellow eyes widen in awe as the two of you watch the village become whole once more. Her hand tightens in yours as she looks to you with the first sparks of excitement shining in her eyes. Suddenly she’s pulling you along, eagerly dragging you along with her. 

“Sa’nok!” Tuk shouts gleefully, already bouncing with excitement. She stands behind Kiri on her ilu, hands on her sister’s shoulders as they follow you into the flood of Na’vi and tulkun, tsurak and ilu. The whole of Awa’atlu has poured into the sea and voices rise joyously over the blue waters. It is the blissful sound of the People and tulkun as siblings are reunited after the season apart. 

“There! Do you see her? That is my spirit sister.” Your voice is pitched with excitement as Kiri and Tuk ride beside you. The water is warm as you urge your ilu to dive. She chitters happily, feeling the elation coursing through you through tsaheylu. Veyan hums eagerly when her eyes finally see you riding towards her, dismounting as you swim in close. Her voice is a warm timber that sings through the water as you greet her. 

«Veyan! Oel ngati kameie.» 

«Oel ngati kameie, tsmuke. I am happy to see you.» Her skin feels welcoming beneath your hands as you press your forehead just above her eyes in a gentle embrace. «Who have you brought with you?» She asks when you part. Kiri and Tuk have kept close to you, signing a respectful greeting when Veyan’s eyes land on them. Kiri hugs close to her ilu as Tuk clings to your back, both bashful in the face of your spirit sister. Veyan is a lovely being known for her beautiful voice and playful disposition. She is as curious as they are upon first meeting. 

«This is Kiri and this is Tuk.» You gesture to each of them in turn. Names are harder to convey without a voice and you name each with words that are easily signed. Kiri you call txanatan for how brightly she reflects Eywa’s light, and Tuk is weopxtsyìp; little wave. It is a common name tulkun say before a child is properly introduced. 

«It seems now is a time for children.» Veyan laughs, pointing her snout across the water. Many Na’vi and tulkun dance in the blue waters but you recognize who she has gestured to.

Ronal is a short distance away and just as you always are you’re struck by your sister’s smile. It’s a rare sight to see the stoic tsahìk so open and unburdened as she speaks with her spirit sister. Roa looks radiant as she cradles a calf beneath her fin. A gorgeous son. You taste the sea on your tongue as a smile breaks across your face. After so long Roa has finally had her child. He looks precious swimming next to his mother, curious eyes taking in the world around him. Just as you’re about to suggest the girls introduce themselves to the young calf they sign that they need air, swimming to the surface. 

«They must be a long way from home.» Veyan notes, keen eyes watching their shadows as they float overhead. It is easy to tell their differences. Their eyes, their tails. It’s made clearer as Rotxo finds them, wide limbs clashing with their willowy frames as he gestures for them to follow him. Both you and Veyan surface for a breath as you watch them all swim away. Neteyam is nearby as well, smiling wide as he watches the tulkun breach and twirl, playfully flapping their fins as skimwings fly overhead. 

«Is he one of yours too?» Veyan asks when you name each of them properly. 

«None of them are mine.» Your tone is dejected as you say the words as you sign. Veyan’s orange eyes roll at your denial. 

«I can see it as plainly as the sky, tsmuke. They are your children.» The sound of Roa’s voice raises from beneath you as Ronal and her spirit sister come to join you and yours. 

«Children?» The older tulkun asks curiously. She has known you since you were young, seen you through many seasons of your life. Roa is just as much your sister as she is Ronal’s even if the two of you do not share the bond of tsaheylu. You greet her happily, giving her well wishes on the birth of her son. She thanks you with a happy trill, nudging him forward for a shy greeting.  

«Three of them.» Veyan says happily, fins fluttering in excitement and nearly shaking you back into the water. 

«Four.» Ronal corrects her. «Two sons and two daughters.»

«When did this happen?» Roa asks. You lay back on Veyan’s fin, watching the sky as you try to gather the courage to speak your feelings into the air. You’ve spent months keeping them tucked close to your chest. It is plain to see how deeply you feel for Jake and yet you’ve refused to admit it, like he will disappear if you so much as whisper your affections to anyone. At first it felt wrong to so shamelessly pine for a man that was already spoken for but Eywa has proven you wrong. Now you are unlearning such ideas but it is slow going like pulling the stray threads of a knot. It has taken so much patience and trust in the Great Mother to loosen your grip on the thoughts of desiring a man like Jake being treacherous and wrong. In death, tsaheylu is broken. An ikran may only ride with one hunter in their whole life, but when a spirit sibling is lost another may rise to take their place if a Na’vi so chooses to accept. It is not betrayal, it is balance. As Eywa intends all things to be. 

Yet there is still hesitancy in your words as you tell your sisters about Jake. How he came to Awa’atlu seeking uturu, how you challenged Ronal before the clan to allow him and his family to stay, the way your heart has been so easily taken by the Sullys. 

«She is in love.» Ronal says, sour attitude clear even as her fingers shape the words. «But stubborn like a child.» Her voice is rife with disappointment. Not at your desire, but your unwillingness to act upon it. 

She still taunts you. Making jabs about your empty home knowing that you could so easily join the Sully family if only you let yourself. Ronal may be your elder sister but she is also tsahìk. The will of Eywa is hers to interpret and the Great Mother has made her intentions clear. Yet the longer you go without acknowledging the truth of what you both know the more abrasive she becomes at the mention of it. Now she has grown far past pointed remarks. It has become an argument at even a passing mention. If either tulkun hears the frustration in Ronal’s tone they choose to ignore it. Though even her body has gone tense with dissatisfaction as she floats beside Roa. 

«At last?» Veyan rolls over, clearly elated at the news. It knocks you back into the water with her. You take in the shapes of her tattoos on her belly as she spins. The same ones you’ve traced countless times in the years since you’ve bonded. This is news that she has been waiting for since the two of you passed your rites together. Finally you have found a mate. And yet your heart can’t let it be so simple even when what you want is so close at hand. 

Jake has kept to the fringes of your life since the night on the terraces. He lingers, just out of reach. Whenever you want me, he said. His heart won’t stray from those words, from you. Even as you pass him in the village he doesn’t dare to speak or touch yet his eyes follow you, gaze wistful as he watches in silence. 

«But he is already mated.» You tell them. Ronal narrows her eyes. 

«His mate has returned to Eywa.» She quickly corrects you. 

«Tsmuke, Eywa sends blessings for a reason. The Great Mother would not give you such a gift if you were not meant to accept it. He has chosen you. All you must do now is choose him.» Roa advises. 

«There will be a celebration tonight.» Veyan chimes happily. «You must dress beautifully and go to him. I ask Eywa to bless this union.» Roa seconds her enthusiasm but Ronal keeps any kind words to herself until the two of you have surfaced once more to prepare for the evening. It is nearing eclipse, the sky faded to shades of pink and purple as night closes in. Ronal will have many things to do before the last sparks of sunlight fade from the sky. It is the duty of tsahìk to lead ceremonies and tonight marks one of the clan’s most sacred celebrations. 

“Tsmuke,” Ronal says finally, joining you in your marui. Her tone is strong, sharp as a blade. She’s yet to speak and already you know her words will be unsympathetic. Ronal is past sparing you for the sake of sibling harmony. It’s clear in her green eyes that she feels nothing but irritation with you at this moment. It feels much the same as when you were children being scolded for going against her words despite her being the elder. Now she is tsahìk, the leader of your clan, and you must bow to her council no matter your relation. 

“I have waited many years for you to choose someone. I do not want to hear any more of this stubbornness. It is done. This man has chosen you and you have chosen him. Not with your words, but with your actions. I see how Jakesully looks at you. I see how his children cling to you. It is as if it was your hands that drew out the aysnatanhì. You See so much and yet you are blind to this. He was mated but she is gone. His heart is free to be given to another. His children will need a mother. I will not allow you to keep yourself from happiness.” 

“Syay,” she says pointedly. “It has been decided.” 

And so it has. The dreamwalker that looks like Kiri and the woman that shares Neteyam’s face stare at you when you sleep. And when it isn’t their yellow eyes it is toruk’s voice ringing in your mind. He is lonely, in your dreams. Nearly desperate. The same look that takes over Jake’s eyes whenever you pass him by as if he were a stranger. You’re hurting him, you realize, just as much as you are hurting yourself. And it is a pain that can be easily soothed. Eywa has shown you how to heal if only you’ll listen. As if hearing your thoughts as if they were her own, your sister speaks again. 

“You were tsakarem just as I was and yet you act as if you do not See. I know that you do. There is freedom in life but some things are decided by the Great Mother’s will. This has been one of those things. Eywa has guided you here, tsmuke, do not ignore her.” Her voice carries a tone of finality. It is the truth and you’ve felt the Great Mother’s guidance. It is as strong and unwavering as mighty toruk, as patient and comforting as Jake’s gentle words. He is meant for you just as you’re meant for him. There is a reason you’ve met him now. He had his mate. She was meant for him just as you are but that was then. Her purpose was served and her spirit returned to be with Eywa. The final hesitant piece of your heart wonders if you’ll leave him just as soon. If your purpose beside him is to be completed just as quickly. It hardly matters. Your heart was his from the moment you first saw him. If death waits close around the bend you’ll gladly face it if he remains by your side until Eywa calls your spirit home. 

Ronal seems to soften after she’s said her piece. A heaving breath leaves her as she steadies her anger, expelling the negative energy from her body in a great heaving sigh. After a moment her eyes open and they no longer carry the stinging bite of disappointment. Instead she has softened to a look of quiet anticipation. A small smile sits in the corner of her mouth, barely lifting her cheeks.

“Tonight we celebrate the return of our brothers and sisters. It is a time for happiness. Dress beautifully, wear your adornments. I want to see my sister shine brightly on this sacred night.” It is the same thing you said to her so many years ago on the night that Tonowari chose her. She is relieved, happy. This will be a burden lifted from her shoulders at last. With a resolute nod she leaves you to dress. As a former tsakarem you’re afforded more beautiful garbs than most women of the clan just as Ronal is. Tsahìk is always the most lavishly decorated woman and being your sister’s right hand has provided you with the same dignified attire. The Awa’atlu tradition of training many for the role of tsahìk means that each woman to complete the trials is just as precious to the clan as the chosen tsahìk mated to olo’eyktan. The People often present you with lovely gifts of the most beautiful beads, shimmering shells, and handsomely dyed materials after healing a member of their family or teaching their child to swim. It’s a balanced exchange as you return the favors with carefully made baskets and newly carved knives. 

The most precious of these gifts you’ve kept hidden away to be used only as ceremonial pieces. For births and deaths, and the celebration of completed rites. The return of the tulkun marks such a worthy event. It’s as you’re combing through your basket of woven tops and beaded loincloths that Tsireya joins you, arms overflowing with freshly picked flowers. 

“Ma sa’tsmuke.” She says happily. There’s a bounce in her step as she sits beside you. “Ma sa’nok has asked us to make aysylangtel for tonight’s ceremony.” 

“Did you enjoy your time with your spirit sister?” You ask as the two of you weave together the flower cords. The petals are soft between your fingers as you weave together the stems until you’ve braided a rope as long as your tail. They’re meant to be worn in your hair, along the length of your tswin. 

“Yes,” she laughs bashfully, “I had much to tell her.” She doesn’t say more, cheeks flushed a soft shade of purple as her tail sways happily against the woven floor. She speaks instead of making aysylangtel for Kiri and Tuk after you’ve finished with the ones meant for Ronal and herself as well as yours. When they’re finished she gleefully takes them to the Sullys, leaving you with the brightest of the cords. The flowers bloom in shades of sunlight. Red, orange, and yellow petals tipped in black. It feels like another sign from the Great Mother. These are toruk’s colors. It determines your dress as you set aside any choice that isn’t the color of firelight and when the first drum beats begin to echo over the village you emerge from your home draped in flames. 

The ceremony is beautiful as it always is. Torchlight dances over the calm waters as the village comes alive with the voices of the People. Ronal’s voice rings over the water as she formally welcomes the tulkun home, Tonowari’s booming voice seconding her words. When the time comes and the drums begin to beat anew Ronal nods to you expectantly. You stride forward in time to the music until the ocean rises up to your knees. The sound of your voice peals through the air like the caw of a bird, sharp and melodic as you begin to sing. The first verse of the song is yours alone as you dance through the water, beads and shells of your clothes tinkling with each movement. Euphoria wells inside you, blooming through your chest like a flower as you sing the story of the tulkun. It is nearly as old as the First Songs, passed down from the ancestors and your body moves with each word. Such dances tell a story, signing in a grander, more fluid way than how you speak in daily life. 

Every woman of the village will play a part in this performance and their voices begin to join you. They flow together like the rise and fall of the waves as the song begins in earnest. The history of the tulkun is long and storied. It will take hours before the song is finished. By then the girls will begin to sing, their young voices swelling the music to a close as the tulkun join the chorus. The whole of the celebration moves like the tides as the crowd thins and renews in waves as more people leave and arrive. There is a whole night of celebration ahead and no one will arrive late to enjoy it. The first line of dancers falls away and you with them, returning to find Tuk bouncing excitedly on shore, her eager hopping stirring up soft bursts of sand. 

“Sa’nu! Sa’nu!” Her smile is nearly wide enough to split her cheeks, round eyes wide with wonder as she grabs one of your hands in hers. The shortened aysylangtel you made for her beats against her back as she swings your arm eagerly. 

“You looked so pretty, Sa’nu!” Kiri settles her hands on Tuk’s shoulders to get her to still. 

“You look very lovely, Sa’nok. Your voice is beautiful.” 

“Thank you, ’ite.” You dare to say. For a moment, Kiri startles, her brows rising before her face settles into a shy smile. When her gaze flits up to you through her lashes she looks content. It eases your heart to know your sister’s words have been true. Even as you saw Jakesully’s children grow closer to you like flowers bending towards the sun you hadn’t dared to claim them so forwardly, scared of the rejection. They had a mother. You seeing them, no matter how vaguely it has been, truly solidified them in your mind. No longer were they shapeless threads of words said in passing. For you to so blatantly step into that place could’ve been seen as a thing worth sneering at. But there is no offense on Kiri’s face. 

“Have you seen your father?” It’s your hope that you don’t sound desperately curious asking after Jake’s whereabouts. 

“Last I saw he was with olo’eyktan.” 

“I will look for Tonowari then.” You find the olo’eyktan around a fire smoldering in the sand with a few men around him. Many eyes rise to meet your arrival; green, blue, and a bright shade of yellow. 

“Our lovely tsakarem.” Tonowari greets you. He’s one of the few in the clan to still call you as such. There’s a fondness in his words that hasn’t wavered since the elders first declared you as a potential mate for him, though the affection between the two of you is like that of siblings. Your heart was never moved by Tonowari the same as your sister’s was. Yet the other men collected around the fire seem more enticed. Their eyes are easy to understand. Drunk from fermented juice and hearts light with the spirit of celebration, they’ve become bolder with their admirations. The only one that is unmoved by your arrival is Jake. His face is tight and guarded, eyes flickering with firelight and nothing else as he watches you watch him. It’s a wonder the way he can so completely close himself off, hiding his soul and masking his feelings. The feeling of wanting to unravel him rises again as you hold out your hand for him to take. It is a request, but there will be great pain inside you if he rejects this humble offering of reconciliation. You are at fault for gouging this rift between the two of you and it’s your hope to bridge it tonight. 

For a moment he simply looks at your hand as it sits before him and there’s a cold flash of pain inside you when you realize that you might be too late. He said he would wait. Promised that he would. But perhaps you’ve made him wait for too long. It’s not until his hand joins with yours that your racing mind settles. He looks to where your hand sits in his, thumb tracing over your skin before he meets your gaze once more and it’s like a storm has lifted. The silence between the two of you still speaks so many words as you watch the light of the fire play over his features. Feeling emboldened you pull him away from the men around the fire. 

“You must dance.” Jake is already shaking his head before you’re more than two steps from where he’d been sitting. 

“You must. It is the way!” A new verse has started and the melody has shifted. In the time of the First Songs the tulkun were unruly. Fighting amongst themselves, killing each other. This new rhythm marks the turn in their histories when they began to see that killing only brings about more killing. It is a livelier tune more fit for dancing than what you had first sung when the celebration began. Already couples are forming on the beach, eager to enjoy the night’s festivities. 

“Go,” Tonowari laughs when Jake looks to olo’eyktan for help. “She is one of the best dancers in the clan. You will enjoy yourself.” 

“I’ve never been a very good dancer.” Jake laughs as you drag him into the crowd. 

“Then show me a dance you know.” The dances of the Metkayina are complex. Men and women face each other and move in a winding line that spins and twirls like waves, weaving between each other and switching partners as you go. It will surely be too much for Jake to learn in a night and he seems to ease at the thought of not joining the already dizzying swirl of dancers. The dance he teaches you is comparatively simple yet more intimate. There’s a closeness about it as you press your hands and chests together before stepping away from each other. Eventually Jake doesn’t want to part and his hands twine with yours, lowering them but not letting go. 

“And who taught you this dance Toruk Makto?” The smile on his face slips at your playful words. Sadness flashes in his eyes before it settles into something fond as he releases one of your hands to catch the curve of your cheek in his palm. 

“My muntxate.” As soon as he says it his ears fall in shame. Just for a moment it feels as if he isn’t seeing you even as his bright eyes rest on your face. 

“Come,” you say to break him from his reverie. “I want to show you something.” He lets you lead him to the water’s edge, following behind when you mount your ilu. Jake says nothing as the two of you ride past the edge of the reef into open waters. There still isn’t much danger so close to the village and you only go as far as a smaller island just outside the safety of the seawall. Jake is silent through all of it, allowing you to lead him wherever you please. 

The island’s shores are stony and thick with trees, the world alight with a familiar blue and green glow so far from the light of torches. Jake watches as you dance through the trees, happiness still soaring in your heart despite his soured attitude. 

“I’m sorry.” He says, finally breaking his silence. 

“What is there to be sorry for?” 

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he insists, “not to you.”

“Why shouldn’t you? Unless you are running from me now, Jakesully.” 

“Never.” You hear the hesitance in his voice even as he grabs your hand to pull you closer. He looks beautiful in the light of the trees. It’s different from the hues of the village where everything is drawn close to shore over the light of the ocean. Jake looks more at ease here. It is not the forest but it must feel like something close to home for him, or at least that was your hope in bringing him here.

“But it feels wrong. To talk about her. With you.” 

“Jake, you said that I may have you. That you will be mine. I do not want just a part of you.”

“You have me, yawne, I swear. I meant what I said that night. I’m yours.” He suddenly seems frantic. 

“Jake, I am not ignorant. I know that you have lived before we met. You were tawtute, uniltìrantokx, Toruk Makto. You’ve carried many names, led many lives. I was not a part of it until now. Why would I fault you for decisions made before we met?”

“It doesn’t bother you? That I was mated before now?”

“It did. I felt like I was taking something from someone else. But not anymore. We do not have to be mated before Eywa. I know that tsaheylu is sacred. Knowing that I’m yours is enough.” The words pain your heart but it is a sacrifice that you are willing to make to stay by his side. Bonds aren’t made frivolously. To form tsaheylu is to commit your souls to one another for life, and he has already given that part of himself to another. Life has parted them but, to him, it must feel like a wound that will never heal. It would be wrong of you to ask when he has already given you so much. His eyes search yours and you’re grateful that Eywa has not given your gift to everyone. If she had he would see the falsehood in your words. Still he reassures you. 

“I chose you. I want you. All of you.” His hands move from yours, drawing up the length of your arms and the curve of your shoulders until he’s holding your face with the softest touch. 

“You look so beautiful.” He whispers so quietly that you’re not sure you were meant to hear, but the sentiment is shared. He is beautiful. Thick locs, yellow eyes, soft stomach. He leans into your touch when your hands find his face in turn, thumbs brushing over the light of his tanhì and the dark shapes of his pil. So different but so familiar. 

“Come, I have something to show you.” Jake seems to be in lighter spirits, as playful as he’d been on the night the two of you climbed the terraces. His hand tugs at your tail as you lead him further inland, laughing when you swing your hips to smack him with it. It’s a beautiful sound. One that you prefer to the melancholic tone he’d taken earlier. 

“It’s here.” You watch Jake’s face as he ducks into the clearing hidden by low hanging leaves. His head tilts, tail swaying inquisitively behind him. 

“What is it?” 

“I do not know. I found it once when I was young, avoiding my training as a hunter. Ronal and I call it Wayutral.”

“Tree of Songs?” He’s curious now, ears flickering in interest. The tree is small by comparison to the rest rising to the sky around you. It’s rooted in the basin of a tide pool, trunk twisted like a braid, with only its spindly branches dotted with glowing pink flowers reaching above the glowing water. It’s a strange tree but Pandora is full of such curiosities. Gifts from the Great Mother. The bark of the tree is soft and glows a pale purple at the gentlest touch, lighting veins through the tree when you connect your tswin. In an instant you hear voices raise in a joyous song. It is not always the same but they’re always familiar. Sometimes a lullaby from childhood or one of the First Songs. Today the tree sings a tulkun song meant to welcome a new birth, their voicing ringing deep and haunting in your mind. 

“What do you hear?” You ask as Jake ties his tswin to the tree. His brows draw down and his ears tighten against his head. Perhaps it is a sad song the Wayutral has shown him. 

“It’s a tawtute song. Like a Taronway. Marines chant it during training.”

“Marines?” Your Na’vi tongue stumbles over the syllables of the word. Another English word for you to learn. Jake breaks tsaheylu and your heart wilts. This was meant to be a happy exchange and it’s been spoiled by memories of his past. 

“It’s nothing.” He shakes away the thought. 

“I’m sorry. Wayutral only sings memories. I didn’t know what it would show you.” You draw your tswin over your shoulder, fingers picking at the bright flowers of your aysylangtel. The bright petals begin to gray under your anxious fingers until Jake collects your hands in his. His eyes linger on the length of the orange flowers, or perhaps he’s staring at your tswin. Either way his eyes draw away slowly, blinking away the distraction as his eyes meet yours. 

“It’s not your fault, sweet girl. I’m not upset, it’s just been so long since I heard anything like that. Brought back memories.” 

“Bad memories?” 

“Some.” His tone is clipped and he looks lost in thought as his five fingers play over yours. He maps the pattern of your skin with his fingertips until you break his trance with a thought you meant to keep tucked inside. 

“I wish I knew.” It’s the truth. There is so much about Jake that you’ve yet to learn but your heart yearns to know every piece of him. But you hadn’t meant to let your longing slip off your tongue. A twinge of shame swims through your chest once more. His life as a tawtute is behind him and yet you want to know what he had been like. So much of his life has happened without you. It’s so uncommon to mate outside of your clan, outside of those that have been beside you since birth. Tonowari grew up beside you and Ronal and yet here is this man that was a stranger some months ago and it’s all you can do to not beg him to sing you the story of his life. You were raised to be in step with Eywa. To listen to her guidance and the spirits of the world around you. A tsahìk does not wait for Eywa’s word, she is always listening. That is what the former tsahìk taught you. Now your ears are eager to listen to every beat of Jake’s spirit. If he were a woven fabric the threads would be many colors, patterns varied as he passed through the different stages of his life. 

“You want to know, yawntutsyìp?” His tone is lightened now, eyes bright with mirth as he teases your curiosity. It makes your ears lower bashfully, eyes falling away from him as heat creeps over your cheeks. Jake is quick to draw your gaze back to him with a hand under your chin. 

“Don’t be shy now, yuey. If you want to know, I can show you. I can show you everything. Let me give you everything.” His lips find yours, closing the space between you. He kisses you like you are the air in his lungs after going without. Deep and desirous as if he’s trying to draw all that you are into himself, trying to taste your soul on his tongue as it grazes yours. It’s enough to make you sigh against his lips and the sound draws a satisfied smile to his lips. Jake doesn’t let you part more than a hair’s breadth from him, thumbs hooked under the curve of your jaw as he nuzzles against your cheeks. 

“I want you with me.” He whispers. “Let me be with you.” A hand leaves your skin, the place he held going cold in an instant, as he draws his tswin over his shoulder. 

“This is what I want.” His voice rings with assuredness. “I want this. I want you. All of you.” There isn’t a moment of hesitation as you lift your flowered braid from your shoulder. Your eyes follow the searching tendrils as they twine together until your vision goes white. 

The feeling is something beyond words. Every piece of your being is lit like a flame, burning and melting as light bursts behind your eyes. It knocks you to your knees as you feel yourself tear and mend all at once, expanding and joining until there is no part of you–body or soul–that doesn’t feel touched by Jake’s presence. His gasping breath becomes your own. Your hearts beat in tandem. Everything that he is becomes a part of you, the roots of your love winding deeper than they had before. Your voice stutters when you finally find the words to speak. 

“I feel you.” They’re hardly words as they fall soft as the wind from your parted lips. Jake laughs and his happiness echoes through tsaheylu. He is content as he basks in your presence. More than just being together under the light of the stars, you’re joined in tirea.

“Ma Jake.” You’re still breathless, still floating on the waves of joy. Every fiber of your being has been tied with his and you can’t tell where you end and he begins as he pulls you into his chest. Gentle hands guide your hazy eyes back to his. 

“My girl,” he says through a kiss. “Oel ngati kameie.” He means it. With everything that he is, he means it. Those words, so simple, so common, draw the last dregs of pain and hesitance from your heart. He is yours. You are his. 

ɴᴀ’ᴠɪ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs

Naranawm – Polyphemus, the planet Pandora orbits

Nalutsa – a marine animal similar to an akula

Syuratan – bioluminescence

Tsakarem – tsahìk-in-training

Vitra, Tirea – soul, spirit

Yawne, Yawntutsyìp – beloved, darling

Tawtute, Sawtute – sky person, sky people

Ranteng Utralti – Spirit Tree

Tswin – neural braid

Tanhì – star, bioluminescent freckles

Atokirina’ – woodsprite, seed of the Tree of Souls

Aysnatanhì – constellations

Sa’tsmuke – aunt, mother’s sister (speculative)

Aysylangtel – flower cords, daisy chain (speculative)

‘Ite – daughter

Muntxate – wife, female mate

Uniltìrantokx – dreamwalker, avatar

Pil – facial stripes, skin stripes

Wayutral – Tree of Songs (speculative)

Taronway – hunt songs

#jake sully x reader #sully family x reader #avatar x reader #avatar #atwow

[pippastrelle]

I'm No Angel [2.5k Chaggie]

Vaggie's a fallen angel doubting she'll survive the end of the extermination. When a demon appears at the alley's end, she expects to go down fighting. Instead, she finds a kindness that did not earn hell like she did.

2.5k fic about Vaggie and Charlie's first meeting and Vaggie's decision to stay with her. I wrote it to give Chaggie some more attention and depth and as practice for making a visual novel (so it's somewhat in that format).

tw injury detail

Vaggie is dying.

She's been dead for decades and she's dying.

And again, no-one will miss her.

Bloody rips in her muscle and skin chafe against her top with every crawl forward. She gasps through her teeth and stops, groaning. Her vision pulses black. Grit bites into her raw hands keeping herself up.

Vaggie: Fuck.

Her back muscles flex instinctively, trying to balance herself with the wings Lute ripped out and strew across the road. Vaggie's eye boils in the hellish air. Everything's on fire.

The only reprieve was in between ripping off her uniform to dump in a bin with her spear and dragging the top off some corpse onto her own.

Pain is hardly unfamiliar. She wished she could forget it. Angels don't feel pain. They don't get hurt.

She stopped being an angel when she spared that sinner.

But they were a child. They posed no threat to heaven. Killing them wouldn't have achieved anything.

Vaggie: Gurgh.

She collapses front-first onto the splintered boards and junk piled at the end of the alley. Metal digs into her side, yet her exhale is almost in relief. She's bared worse.

She's no longer in the open.

Vaggie convulses as her skin is already knitting back together. It sears and itches, covering over each bloody wound. Angelic blood did not belong in Hell or anywhere.

Angelic blood... is gold. She didn't know.

Her breaths quake her whole body. She stares down the alleyway.

Luminescent, gold splotches trail all the way from the street to her body.

Even if the demons wouldn't recognise it, all it would take is to follow it and they could kill her in the grime of a back alley, all while she's wearing a top stolen off an exterminated sinner with Xs over the tits.

Like a sinner deserves.

Blood burns acrid all over the Pride Ring. Vaggie retches as she inhales it. She buries her face against a junk box to cover her choking while she waits.

When the demon arrives, they're a blur of a red suit. They block out the fire Vaggie was squinting against.

She grinds her jaw and readies herself to fight. But her arms don't raise. Her spear is in a bin. How can she fight back?

Demon: Oh. Oh! You're alive! You're alive!

Their voice chimes like music.

Still, demons are nothing but deceptive.

Even if the demon is tall, they're skinny. They rush forward and Vaggie plans to knock out their feet with her own.

Her legs don't move.

The demon falls to their knees before Vaggie. She squirms away. They lift gentle hands that don't yet touch her face.

Demon: You are not going to die! I promise. I promise you that.

With their faces so close, Vaggie sees the demon looks... angelic.

They wear a small smile that they're pushing even bigger for her as if for her benefit. It pushes into apple red cheeks. It shines like the golden, curly hair cascading down their back. They brush Vaggie's hair out of the way of her face, exposing her hollow eye socket.

Demon: Okay, I... can't see your eye anywhere, but lots of demons live with one eye, and they're none the worse for it!

They reach into their blazer and with a gurgle nowhere near words, Vaggie bucks out of their hand.

Demon: No, no, no, don't worry. Don't move. I can bandage your wounds then bring you over to my infirmary to get better. Or at least just bandage your wounds. Please?

They bring out a fresh roll of bandage from their inside pocket.

Even if the skin is reforming, it's thin. Bandaging the wounds will keep them from reopening and from festering with hellish infection.

If the demon wanted to kill her, they wouldn't need to pretend anything. So, Vaggie stills. The demon applies the bandage around her face with care not to aggravate either the injuries or Vaggie.

Vaggie: What are you doing?

Her voice is thick with all the blood and spit in her mouth.

Demon: I am making sure that no more of my people die in the extermination than absolutely need to. Like you.

In every extermination, the only thing more deadly than an angel's blade is how the sinners turn on each other. They'd shove the next closest sinner into her blade instead, only for another angel to gut them through the back.

Vaggie: And you are?

Who would protect them? Why would they help her?

The demon's lilt is as sweet as ever, but there's a bracing to their smile. Their eyes keep flicking to the bandages they're now applying around Vaggie's raw hands.

Demon: I'm Charlie Morningstar.

‘Morningstar’.

…Seriously?

Vaggie: Is that... a coincidence? Charlie Morningstar? Lucifer Morningstar?

Charlie: He's my dad.

Vaggie: You're his...?

Charlie: Yes, I'm his daughter.

Lilith and Lucifer, the roots of human evil, have a daughter. And she is nursing Vaggie's wounds.

Charlie's red blazer and trousers paired with a black bowtie belong in a theatre. The extermination counters sinners, not hellborn demons like her. She shouldn't have been attacked. Still, Vaggie begins to notice blood on her shoes, from walking the Pride Ring during an extermination, and bloody, handprints on her front and arms, from demons shoving her away.

Charlie could have been a threat to them. She could be a threat to Vaggie. Vaggie couldn't know. But Vaggie isn't the only demon she approached this extermination.

Vaggie: You-

The word splinters into coughs. Charlie rests a hand against her head to steady it.

Vaggie: You don't act like a fallen angel.

Vaggie: Thank you.

Charlie's big eyes go bigger, and she stops to stare at Vaggie. Her mouth flaps even before she finds the words.

Charlie: Thank you. Yes, yes, so, is this all okay? How are you feeling now? Do I need to bandage anywhere else?

Vaggie's hand goes to her back without thought. She stops herself; it looked just a twitch. But Charlie's eyes catch it.

Charlie takes one of Vaggie's hands in her own.

Charlie: You know, I can bring you to a little infirmary I've made. You can even stay the night if you'd like to. It's totally rent-free. Please.

Her hands are warm, and not in the choking way Hell is warm. It thaws through Vaggie and brings her back to her first home: the tropical constant of El Savador.

Vaggie is in no condition to fight. Her body trembles to move and the alleyway junk pile is hardly shelter. If Charlie turned on her, Vaggie would find a way out. Healing first. Everything else... later.

She nods.

Vaggie: Thanks. Please.

Charlie: What's your name?

Vaggie: Vaggie.

Charlie: Ohhh... Uh, nice name.

Her attempt to smile is genuine at least.

Vaggie had volunteered to leave her human life behind her when she became an exorcist. What does it matter what she's named? She thought it then and she thought it now. It didn't occur to her to make up a new name. Who cares?

Charlie: Come on, Vaggie, let's get you up!

Charlie, as kindly as she can, drags Vaggie from the alley into a taxi. The driver sneers some inappropriate comments about the two but Charlie meets it with a smile and a wad of cash, which doesn't shut the taxi driver up but it does get her driving. Vaggie mentally notes the location of her spear.

*

Charlie takes them to a lonely high-rise atop a hill of scorched grass. It's lit up with too many lightbulbs but it's intact.

Inside, after a bit more dragging, Charlie lays Vaggie to rest into a bed set close to the entrance and Vaggie sinks into the clean blankets like a kiss against her ripped up body.

Charlie: Don't worry, I'm just getting what you need for your back.

While Charlie sets to gathering disinfectant, water, and bandages from scattered buckets, Vaggie sees she's in a grand hall of empty beds. Every inch of marble floor, every windowsill, and even the start of the staircase is set up with blankets and medical supplies. The beds seem sourced from everywhere in existence. Metal-framed singles that quiver in the breeze next to four-poster kings next to cracked cots next to...

Vaggie: Uhhh.

Charlie must have got most of the beds from some sex clubs that were either destroyed or having a sale. Vaggie is surrounded by love hearts and mirrors and leather and chains.

Thankfully, Vaggie landed on a love heart. She stares up at the pink and the pain briefly melts behind her awkwardness.

Charlie: It's clean! They're all one-hundred percent clean. Scrubbed and new bedsheets. But if you want I can move you to one of the others-

Vaggie: It's... okay.

Her face burns.

Vaggie: Am I the first you brought here?

Charlie: You know, the others I found, they said they were fine without it. It's fine. It gives me more time to focus on you. Now-

Charlie returns to Vaggie and she's shed her blazer. The white button-up underneath brings attention back to her cute bowtie while her suspenders and rolled up sleeves make a handsome shape on her. She was tall, with long arms and long legs to suit it.

Charlie: So, um, how do you want to show me your back?

Vaggie: Huh?

Vaggie splutters a bit, Charlie's voice calls her mind back, but Charlie's apple cheeks seem somehow redder. She lifts the medical supplies in her hands.

Charlie: If you want me to clean the injuries on your back, I'm going to have to, uh, see your back.

Vaggie: Don't worry about it.

Vaggie: I'll take my top off.

Meanwhile, Vaggie's face combusts. She looks again to the love heart on the bed. There is no practical reason to swap.

Charlie: I'm not going to look.

Charlie gives an exaggerated twirl of her legs as she spins around to give Vaggie her privacy.

Vaggie took another look around the grand hall. Although the windows span almost as high as the walls, they're made of individual panes too small for most demons to break through. The arching front doors are thick enough to be weapons of their own right if intruders try to enter. They're alone in the high-rise.

As satisfied as she can be by the security, Vaggie peels off her stolen top and lies on her front on the bed.

Vaggie: You're good.

She hears Charlie turn, then hiss in sympathy.

Charlie: Owwww.

Charlie: They'll heal.

She starts cleaning the two vertical gashes between Vaggie's shoulder blades, but Vaggie's wings are gone. Taken back to Heaven with Lute as proof of her fall.

Vaggie hisses too as the wet rag first hits her back. Her hands claw into the bedsheets.

Charlie: Sorry! This'll be quick. Don't worry.

Vaggie has dealt with worse. She has dealt with worse. She grinds her teeth and focuses on breathing. Charlie starts to rub little circles on her neck to comfort her, which stalls Vaggie.

Charlie: Aaaaaalmost done.

Once they're clean, Charlie covers them with some bandage she sticks across Vaggie's back. Though itching, it's tolerable.

Charlie: You look beautiful!

Charlie: I mean, it all looks nice and clean and you're totally fine now! I'm turning again. You can put on your top again if you want to.

The breath of a laugh escapes Vaggie without her permission.

Vaggie: It's fine.

Her lips quirk strangely. Vaggie didn't expect the first demon she found to be... so cute.

Fuck. If she'd said that up above, Lute's spear would have been through her lungs before Vaggie finished the breath. So, she wouldn't have said anything. But she never looked a demon longer than assessing a target before Charlie. Are these feelings a sign she was always going to fall, or is this because she fell?

Vaggie: You can look again.

Charlie returns with a smile. She rests a hand lightly on Vaggie's arm while she props herself up on her elbows.

Charlie: How are you feeling?

Vaggie: Like shit.

Vaggie: But I'm not dead, because of you.

Vaggie: Is this what you do every year?

Charlie bobs her head from side to side.

Charlie: This is the second year. I try new things, see what works and what I can do next year. I guess people don't need an infirmary as much as I thought, so back to the drawing board!

She gives an attagirl swing of her arm.

Vaggie: And this building. Is this the base for Lilith and Lucifer?

Charlie: No, no, Dad's got his own place. It's a bit deeper into the Pentagram. I got this place for myself. I used to live with my mum but she had some business or something that was very important and she had to leave a few years ago.

Vaggie frowns.

Vaggie: Why did you tell me that?

Charlie's eyes and mouth form perfect Os.

Charlie: You asked, did you not?

Vaggie: I could use this against you. If Lilith's gone, and I know where Lucifer is...

Charlie leans closer to Vaggie and gives her a little nudge with her elbow.

Charlie: But I don't think you will.

Charlie: Thank you, Vaggie. I'm happy someone could be saved.

Vaggie thinks on the child she spared. With the sheer population of Hell and no way to find their name, she'll never know if they got away.

Why can't she regret it?

It makes sense someone like her ended up with the sinners eventually.

Vaggie: Why protect the sinners?

Charlie: Just because you're sinners doesn't mean you should be exterminated. You're still human! Humans have such amazing potential. You can do anything. Who says Hell has to be the end of that?

Vaggie lets her eye fall closed. Charlie is watching her face.

Vaggie: I think you're the more impressive one.

Charlie: Mmph-!

Vaggie peeks her eye back open but Charlie's turned her head with her fluster.

Charlie: That's a nice thing for you to say.

When she's turned, Vaggie can see tears in the side of her shirt, like a clawed hand punctured it.

Vaggie: Do the sinners hurt you?

Charlie: No, no, they don't hurt me. Not like that.

Vaggie: You're doing a good thing, Charlie.

Everything from Charlie's eyes to her voice shines with sincerity. She's nothing like the sinners Vaggie has seen or the demons she's heard of.

Of the two of them, only Vaggie earnt her place in Hell.

If she was made to defend, maybe this can be her penance.

Vaggie: Is anyone else working with you?

She tried to phrase it neutrally but Charlie gasps with delight.

Charlie: Do you want to stay? You absolutely absolutely can!

Vaggie: I'll make sure no-one hurts you-

Charlie throws her arms forward as if to hug her, before remembering Vaggie's back wounds and jerking to a stop. Vaggie's insides lurch with some disappointment, before she also chides herself.

Charlie: I've got plenty of rooms upstairs for you! You get to choose. And if there's anything you need, just tell ol' Charlie and she'll sort it.

She keeps nattering her niceties, not particularly checking whether Vaggie is listening.

Vaggie's in a bed taken from a Hell sex club, under the asylum of the daughter of Lilith and Lucifer. Just breathing reminds her of the tears down her back and in her skull where her wings and eye were ripped from her. She spared a demon. She fell from the angels. She didn't deserve to smile.

Still, she is, however slightly.

#charlie morningstar #vaggie hazbin #chaggie #charlie x vaggie #habzin hotel #hazbin #viziepop #fanfiction #writblr #visual novel #vn #f/f #wlw

[lvlymicha]

☀︎︎You're mine, sunshine☽

part three

(a/n) hii people, did I took too long? I know I did and I'm sooooo sorry:(, I'm a very procrastinator so you guys better get used to it lol. Anyway, here's chapter three, hope you enjoy and good reading!!

Warnings: none

tags: grumpy x sunshine, boss!WiliamAfton/Steve Raglan, employee!reader, William Afton/Steve Raglan x reader, reader is in her 20s, William/Steve is in his early 50s, slow burn, female reader (more tags will be added eventually if needed.)

Part One | Part Two

William fights the urge to roll his eyes to the woman in front of him, it was the sixth person he was "helping" today and with her it wasn't going that good.

"Listen Miss Bennett, I'll repeat it again, you don't have the right qualifications to this kind of job, in fact, you have zero qualifications, no recommendations, no qualities and shopping isn't a hobby for sure. That's why we don't have much options here."

William says for the third time, the woman, tall, blonde with a skinny body, has a bored look, she rolls her eyes

"Omg can't you like, find me another job? I don't want to be a babysitter, kids are gross and I will literally pull my hair of my head if I take care of one."

(Y/N) looks at the woman with a confused frown, literally pull your hair out? scary.

"Well then, why don't you look by a job yourself? I'm 100% that someone will certainly hire you!"

William says, totally not sarcastically as he leans down on his chair, hands folded on his lap as he looks at her with a grin, not a normal grin though, it's a sarcastic grin that doesn't go unnoticed by the blonde, she gasps, pointing her index finger to the old man with a frown

"Are you being sarcastic? because if you a-"

"You like fashion don't you?"

(Y/N) asks quickly, as she notices what was probably going to happen, and now the attention goes to her, the woman lows her finger and nods at (Y/N)'s question, William observes the scene, wanting to know what his assistant is going to say

"Well, I might have found something then, what about work as a salesclerk in a clothing store then? That way you can work with something you like!"

(Y/N)'s idea is instantly agreed by the woman who seems a lot happier now, they chat for a bit about the job application and Miss Bennett has a satisfied smile, "You literally saved my life" is what she says before leaving the office

William groans, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I seriously can't handle that, a 25 years old woman behaving like a teenager. " He's clearly pissed of as he says that

"Come on, don't be grumpy, it was funny, I'm like, literally rolling on the ground of laughing!"

(Y/N) says giggling as William gives her a annoyed look, "Don't you start."

"I'm like literally dying of laughing right now!" She says, enjoying teasing William, the man gets up of his desk and (Y/N) laughs even more "You're literally getting on my nerves right now so I suggest you to stop." He says giving her a cold glare, though he was holding back a small smile, he couldn't deny, the situation was kind of funny

The small girl recomposes herself, and apologizes to her boss, "Remember, you're here to work not to joke. You can go now, have a good break, be back in 1 hour."

William takes his wallet from a drawer in his table and leaves the office

As William leaves (Y/N) huffs in annoyance"YoU aRe LiTeRalLy GeTtInG oN mY nErVeS" She says mocking William's words "What a kill joy." She gets up from her desk and picks a small lunchbox from her bag, she leaves the office too, closing the door behind her

#grumpy x sunshine #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton x you #boss x employee

[crazy-writer-101]

The Eyes of a Pigeon

For nearly three summers, four human kids visited the abandoned school. The school wasn’t dangerous. Sometimes,  I would fly above the worn building, but it was difficult since it was a very tall building. The school was surrounded by tall grass fields a long, long way from any other buildings. Once when it was really cold, some guys with bright hats tried to knock down the school, but the kids gathered a bunch of other kids and they staked out in the building for nearly two nights, stopping the glowy guys from taking away the building. 

The kids would go to the school almost every day around the middle of the day when the bright sun would cast an orange kind of glow on the blue right above. There were two boys and two girls. One of the boys would always bring small cans filled with color and after excessive shaking, he would point it at one of the walls and cool drawings would appear. Another boy in this crazy chair with wheels, would always be staring at these stacks of paper that were somehow bound together. One of the girls wore lots of shiny gems and would sometimes help the boy with the color cans, but she would usually be playing with scraps in the building, occasionally picking flowers or weeds. The other girl would pick up a rusty pole and jump around singing songs while dancing wildly. 

They were shorter last year. In fact they were very different from this year. The boy with colorful cans only brought a tall bottle of stinky liquid now. Even if the smell was unpleasant, the boy still drank it. The girl who used to pick flowers, only slumped into a dusty pillow, sometimes rolling some weird looking leaves into a little brown paper, sometimes holding the rolled paper up to her mouth and breathing smoke. The other girl who sang loudly, now sat in one place most of the time, her hands wrapped around her legs that were pulled up to her chest. Small tears rolling down her rosy cheeks. Something was wrong with them. 

It especially started falling through when the second boy stopped showing up. I stopped hearing the turning circles of his chair after summer of this year. The kids slowly began showing up less and less as soon as the leaves changed to a different color and the air got colder. On days they wouldn’t show up, I began to think they would never come back. Then they showed up individually. 

The boy would throw things around and break the windows that weren’t already broken, yelling words that I’ve heard mothers tell their children not to say. The girl who breathed smoke would only go there sometimes to ramble to air about how it ‘wouldn’t approve of her smoking’. Before any guilt can settle her features, she would laugh dryly before mumbling ‘but you’re dead’ and then falling asleep soon after. The girl who cried would go to the old school and only ever cried. Her beautiful hair was always tangled and her porcelain face was redden and drenched in tears. Pain filled her voice as she screamed into the wind things I could never experience and would never want to. I would try to coo to calm her down and sometimes it helped, but sometimes her cries were too loud. 

It broke my little heart every time I saw them be so different from when they were shorter. It was like they were completely different kids. Maybe they are. Are they? Are they different children from last year? Well, what happened to the other ones? No, no, these are the ones from last year. Because the boy used the last of his color cans to paint the other boy’s wheelchair that was empty of the boy who always sat in it. Because the girl bundled the last flowers she picked into a bouquet wrapped in a black transparent fabric. Lace, I think she said? Because the tear-stained girl sang a sad song to the fields. 

I was flying across town one day. I had just been bitten on the leg by a stray dog. He was skinny and looked hungry and if it didn’t end with me dying, I would’ve stayed and helped him find food. My leg hurt and I felt whatever I had eaten early coming back to exit my mouth. I swallowed it back down and kept flying even in pain. 

I flew to a familiar place that usually had a familiar smell; freshly baked bread. It came from the window of a small room in a tall building. I flew to the window that was cracked slightly open, not enough for me to fly through. Everything seemed normal except for the fact that there was no fresh bread and no one in the small room. An older woman, however, burst through the door, wailing and screaming. An older man rushed in after her and held her tightly as she slowly fell to the ground. Both of the people were familiar because they were the same people that were with the girl with the pretty voice every morning and every night. Except the girl wasn’t here. Hopefully nothing terrible has happened to her. 

I pushed off the ledge with pain and began flying again. The sun was barely setting behind the old building so the kids should be at the abandoned school now. I took two lefts and a right and before I took another right and passed the clean school where the kids went almost everyday too, I saw a lot of bright lights. Red and blue flashed rapidly and my mind hurt a little bit. I moved to get a better look at the unusual activity and almost crashed into a window. Kids were crying and more were shaking. I cooed a little in hopes of the crying to stop. Like times before, it did nothing. Before I could fly away, I noticed a familiar face. Two scary men were hauling out the boy that had colored cans. But now his hands are colored and stuck together behind his back. His eyes were tearstained and he looked so sad. So sad. 

He got shoved into the back of a box with wheels that flashed red and blue. He didn’t come back out after a second. And another second. I didn’t realize until later that was the last time I would see him. I flew up towards the orange up above and began making my way to the old school. The wind felt colder tonight. My feathers didn’t do me mercy like all the times before. I kept flying all the way to my destination. When I got there, only one kid was there. The girl who breathed smoke. She held the little magic stick in her hand as she sat against a wall. I fought against the silly little voices in my head, and flew down through a broken window. Landing a couple feet from the girl, my leg burned with pain. The girl looked down at me with glassy eyes and smiled softly. 

“You hurt, bud?” She muttered, reaching her hand out to me. I flinched and shuffled back a little. She looked at me sympathetically before putting the little stick between her fingers up to her mouth and breathing more grey smoke. 

“It’s okay. I ain’t gonna hurt you. I have no reason to. My friends are gone. I’m gone,” her voice was shaky and it looked like she might cry, but she never did, “I’m leaving this town. And all my memories with it. Including them.” 

She breathed and looked toward the entrance of the school that had no doors. You can see tall grass for a long time. I cooed softly. She let out a dry chuckle without looking away from the field. She sniffed and I could see tears threaten to spill from her eyes. Nothing fell though. No tears ever fell since the air got colder and the others slipped away. She needed to cry, but she never did. 

“I really wish we can go back to being little kids,” she muttered. Her voice cracked and she sniffled again. Some sort of darkness covered her features. Suddenly that same dark feeling pulled at something inside my chest. I had no idea what it was but it didn’t feel well. I wanted to make things better, but there was nothing I could do. 

After that dark day, I never saw any of the kids again. I spent many warm summers and cold winters going to the abandoned school, hoping they came back. I spent too many summers and winters, pretending they would come home. It hurt my chest each and every time they didn’t show up. They were gone and, after a long time, my leg stopped hurting. So did my chest. I felt happy. I flew, now, above the orange and blue. The air was no longer cold nor dark. I stopped worrying about the kids and the abandoned school when the boy in the wheelchair told me everything was okay. 

#max writes for now #writers #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #short story

[apotodiplodocus]

OK so I've never actually had a tumblr before today so I'm still very new to how it all works, I hope I don't miss something! Just going to be updating whats on my AO3 to here and if anyone has any questions I'll answer those!

SECURITY

Chapter 1

Your desk is a mess of papers, preparing a presentation for a client that you were meeting in 10 minutes, your eyes threatening to spin straight out of their sockets. Your job used to be simple before this project came up, you just had to worry about emails and excel sheets, but now you had to actually talk to clients. The area being a bit shady there were a lot of crummy clients who wanted more than just the project information and now you were tasked with dealing with them. Though, this was your first big project and you had tirelessly been working to make it perfect hoping it could be enough to get the promotion management has been dangling over your head the past two months. You needed that money to send back to your family, it would be life-changing for them if you could just send them a little more a month.

Wrapped up in thoughts of your family you didn’t notice your manager approaching you nervously, nor the second set of footsteps behind her. She cleared her throat for your attention which you gave, a frazzled look upon your face.

“Good afternoon yn. Are you ready for your presentation?” She said keeping her focus on you like she was worried about something; you took it as a fear that the project would fall through.

“Yes, I’ve been preparing for weeks so don’t worry if I can just get to the end of my presentation, I’m sure Mr Komaji will be hooked!” You smiled reassuringly at her and she cleared her throat again, more out of anxiety than the need for attention.

“Yes, well… I feel it’s only fair I make you aware of Mr Komaji’s… Track record. You see he can get rather, how do I put it? Handsy? Please just keep your distance and stay focused on the presentation, try not to get side-tracked with a conversation outside of what he needs to know for work. Plus you won’t be in there alone we’re sending a security officer in with you, just to be safe. This is-“ She quickly pauses and takes a breath as if scared to even say his name as you finally notice the man behind her. “Gyutaro Shabana.” She finishes shuddering like the sound of his name was disgusting to her senses. You felt as if she was unnecessarily rude.

Your eyes flickered to him as he stepped out from behind her, your position sat down making him seem so tall, you can’t believe you didn’t notice him before. You notice he had dyed his hair green and let it grow out revealing his black roots, was dyed hair even allowed here? You couldn’t remember, but you couldn’t help but think his hair and birthmarks on his face just made him so incredibly unique. Did you like unique before? Who knows, but you know it looks good on him.

“Nice to meet you, Mr Shabana, I’m looking forward to working with you! I’ll be in your hands today.” You flashed a bright smile. Your reaction made him look weirded out and he bristled at what you called him.

“Gyutaro, I don’t like being called Shabana.” He says looking away from you, hands in his uniform pockets. It seems like he took liberties with his uniform as well as his hair, the uniform you were accustomed to being much neater. He had disregarded the tie and fleece, popped open the top couple of buttons of his shirt and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, allowing you a view of the way the muscles of his arms rippled when he moved ever so slightly. You hadn’t thought his arms could be that ripped for such a skinny guy. Clearing your throat after your blatant staring, a light blush crept up your neck and down from your ears.

“OK, Gyutaro, I can do that. Will you be OK to go in… Crap! Now?” You exclaimed after checking your watch. You quickly gathered your materials and locked your computer, barely hearing his acknowledgement in the sound of an amused hum at your panic. You scurried to the meeting room, you had to pass through ten doors to get to the meeting room and for all except the very last door he had walked through, not holding the door open or waiting for you as you fumbled with your folders trying to keep pace with him. It irked you a little bit, but it wasn’t really his job to hold the doors open.

When you did reach the meeting room door, Gyutaro waited for you to catch up before walking in first, holding the door open for you. You thanked him with a smile, the much taller man looking away with what you hoped was a faint blush on his ears. Turning your attention to the balding man sitting at the conference table. He stands up and goes to shake your hand but Gyutaro steps in, putting a hand between you and Mr Komaji.

“Hands off.” He states as if a handshake was not normal business practice, but you couldn’t help but be thankful since you had caught him staring at your legs.

“I feel a bit offended you thought you would need a guard to sit in with us.” He declares, and you realise this is going to be a bigger pain than you thought. The man backed off and sat back down, patting the seat next to him. Gyutaro bristles and you realise just how tall he actually is while staring at his back, it seems like he was slouching on the way over but had straightened up before going into the room. Shaking your head you refocused on the man but sat on the other side of the table from him, away from the door.

“Sorry Mr Komaji, it’s policy.” It was in fact not policy, but you needed this project, so you couldn’t let him get offended.

Gyutaro moves to stand behind your seat, crossing his arms. While you are blissfully unaware of Gyutaro’s expression, Komaji can barely look in your direction, sheer intimidation making him hesitant.

Eventually, your presentation starts and Komaji slowly gets used to Gyutaro’s presence, he becomes bold once more, blatantly staring at any exposed flesh and your chest. You feel so naked under his gaze, but Gyutaro makes you feel ten times safer. Gyutaro has positioned himself barely a foot away from your chair, he’s so close you can hear his breathing go from calm to aggravated the bolder Komaji becomes. The more you thought about the safety that oozed from the man behind you, feeling at home in his ‘protection bubble’ the less you focused on the presentation. You stumble over yourself and Komaji decides it’s the perfect time to push boundaries, thinking you stumbled because you were too distracted by him.

“There, there my dear-“ As he reached across the table to grasp the back of your hand, his own is snatched away.

“Hands to yourself. I won’t say it again.” The man flinches at Gyutaro’s touch and after a moment of surprise, wrenches his hand from your guard’s grip. Not-so-subtly Komaji uses hand sanitiser as if he could catch something from Gyutaro. You tense and clench your fist in anger, how rude could this man be? You want to rip him a new one for disrespecting Gyutaro when he was just doing his job, but a snicker from Gyutaro stops you. You visibly relax and take a calming breath in. Hold, and then breathe out. Putting on your best customer service smile you continue your presentation.

After 5 minutes as you’re about to finish, the radio on Gyutaro’s belt goes off, beeping and screeching. You turn to look, and he meets your eye, holding it up for you to see.

“I’ll be right back. I’ll be right outside the door.” He declares pointedly staring at Komaji, who doesn’t even acknowledge him. He leaves an eye trained on the man all the way until the door closes behind him. It’s muffled but you can hear him talking to someone. You turn back to Komaji to continue but notice he’s now stood up, looking down at you in such a predatory way you freeze, feeling more prey than human. He was not as deterred by Gyutaro as you had hoped, as he approaches the door he begins to speak.

“Now that insect is gone, we can really get to business.” He attempts to purr out, and you hear the awful sound of the door lock clicking quietly. As he now approaches you, he starts complimenting your figure, saying awful, vile things. Your heart pounds and hot bile rises in your throat, contradicting the cold shiver that ripples and waves down your spine.

He stops not too far from you and as you are frozen, he takes a moment to drink you in, apparently not worried about Gyutaro on the other side of the door. You want to call out to him, but the fear has you turned to stone.

“Since I’ve locked the door, he’ll have to go to the security office on the other side of the building to get the keys. That’ll give us at least 5 minutes to conclude our business.” He growls on the approach again. The flinch from the impending sense of doom renders you able to move at last and your paralysed vocal cords return as you scream for Gyutaro. The volume makes the man pause as he watches the door.

“Shut up, you little bitch, you need my money, don’t you? Now be a good little whore and give yourself to me.” He snarls. It was only a few seconds, but your heart threatens to screech to a stop until you hear heavy footsteps pound towards the door. Gyutaro’s body slams against the door, it rattling the frame. The vibrations again draw the man’s attention away from you and you take the momentary distraction to quickly stand up and retreat to the back of the room, Komaji blocking your way to the door. The door handle rattles violently and there are a few good slams which you assume is Gyutaro’s shoulder.

Komaji looks slightly perturbed at the strength Gyutaro clearing has to be shaking even the doorway, but stalks towards you nonetheless confident he still has time. As he starts closing in, however, there is an enormous bang, and the sound of splintering wood greets your ears. Looking at the door you don’t even get the chance to see Gyutaro at the door before he’s in front of you, taking Komaji to the ground. Trying to take in the situation, you first focus on what the sound was and see the door almost in shreds, having been kicked in, an amazing show of strength. You look to the men on the ground and see Gyutaro holding the man’s arms up to his shoulder blades, one knee to the side of Komaji and the other pressing down just below Komaji’s arms.

“I’m sure a guy like you is so used to things going your way, aren’t you? How great for you man. Not that a could be envious of a creepy parasite like you. You clearly have enough money to think her silence can be bought, don’t you? Goood for you man. How unlucky for you that I’m here though.” Gyutaro snarls accentuating his point by pushing Komaji’s arms further up his back and you hear a quiet popping sound right before Komaji yells in pain.

It's weird for you to admit but it does something to you, seeing Gyutaro’s prowess despite looking unassuming. Your eyes are fixed on the flex of his biceps against the straining fabric of his shirt.

“Get off me you wretch! I swear I’ll report you for misconduct and assault! Both of you! And you-!” His eyes fix on you, and the pent-up stress makes your legs weak, sliding down the wall behind you “The project is off! I’ll make sure no one gives you anything again! That’ll keep you quiet won’t it bitch? Being unable to send money to your precious family! You stupid-!” Gyutaro is pushing upwards again, Komaji thrashing below him.

“Eyes on me, cretin. Don’t look at her, don’t speak to her, don’t think about her. I’m the one you should be worried about right now.” Gyutaro growls. If you didn’t feel so ridiculous that would have been hot, you may have even had to fan yourself. You snap out of your stupor and get up on shaky legs and put a hand on Gyutaro’s shoulder. His head whirls around but his expression softens when he sees your fear, it somewhat reminding him of Ume.

“Enough now please, I don’t want you to get fired.” You say gently.

Gyutaro thinks for a second, pondering your words and you feel like he’s looking through you, then he stands to his full height stepping back from Komaji, watching him squirm on the ground.

Gyutaro starts giggling to himself quietly, strangely endearing as it is, you are awfully confused.

“Gyutaro?”

“Ya say you’ll report us for misconduct, but your stupid pig brain clearly can’t comprehend the idea of CCTV. I may have t’pay for the door but then m’good. You really are disgraceful you know that? I’m gonna make sure you get shit for being a predator.” He cackles towards the end, and you understand his confidence, yes there’ll be trouble because of this but he is the one who was clearly planning to assault you. Again the man sees something you don’t. The way Gyutaro stares at Komaji after his laughing fit ends is truly fear-inspiring. He looks as if he’s measuring Komaji for a coffin and the balding man knows if he didn’t have a job to look out for, he would be beaten to within an inch of his life- if not worse.

There’s a moment of quiet staring at each other where you can sense the tension between them, Komaji looks terrified, and suddenly Gyutaro whips down and picks Komaji up by the scruff of his neck and marches him out of the building. You collapse into a chair when the disgusting man is gone and you don’t think you need to cry, you don’t want to. You’re just glad Gyutaro was there to save you and thinking of it again you remember the door and stand up to inspect it. There is a huge crater right next to the lock and there are pieces of wood all over the floor, you don’t understand how that is even possible, a solid wood door, these weren’t cheap.

You crouch down to start picking up bits of wood feeling bad for the cleaners, taking them into your hand, it’s nice to have an unnecessary task to take your mind off what could have just happened.

Gyutaro is coming back fiddling with his radio on his belt and re-attaching it when he spots you crouched on the floor, he is taken aback by the curve of your legs in your skirt but chides himself for faltering in his stride. You just had something awful happen he definitely isn’t gonna flirt with you after that, even if he did think he was ‘worthy’. He strolls over hands back in his pockets and crouches down with you just watching you.

“What’re ya doing?” He says looking at you like you are mad.

“… I’m picking up pieces of the door, so I don’t think about what just happened and start crying.” Gyutaro is surprised by your honesty and thinks for a second, he can already see the type of person you are.

“Don’t. People get paid to do this.” He grabs your wrist lightly and empties out what you have in your hand into his. He doesn’t look at you as he stands to throw the splinters away. He returns to you and waits for you to stand up, when you don’t he huffs and holds out his hand. You take it as softly as possible letting him help you stand up.

“Thank you so much. I… I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there. Truly thank you so much.” You stare at the floor because you can’t bear to look up at him with the dark blush staining your face, he really saved you.

“Whatever, my shithead co-worker locked himself out. Shouldn’t’ve gone to let him back in. Fuck – I wanna beat that scumbag.” He clenches his fists, the tension coming back to him.

“I’ll pay for the door; you broke it getting to me from a situation I could have stopped. I should have been firmer.” You say feeling at fault.

“Are you stupid?” He questions looking down his nose at you a small smirk on his face.

“What?” Your head shoots up in disbelief.

“I said, are you stupid? He woulda tried something whether you were firmer than a rock. Chicken shits like that don’t care how scary a woman is, to them they are still just women. And don’t jus’go assuming I need you to pay for the door, I’ve never done a half-assed job and m’not gonna start now.” He huffed.

“Oh… I see. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make it seem like I thought you couldn’t afford it. Are you sure it’s OK? I really don’t mind. Or if you won’t let me pay for the door, I insist you let me take you out for food.” You demand, stubbornly looking up at him through your lashes, blush painted over your cheeks. Gyutaro almost flinches at the sudden request and at seeing the blush on your face. Is it really possible an attractive woman would want to take him out? He mulls over his options, weighing the pros and cons.

“… OK fine, you can take me out for food tonight. I’ll meet you at the main doors after work.”

“Oh! OK, thank you Gyutaro! I finish at 5.” You call after him.

“I know.”

#gyutaro #gyutaro x reader #reader insert #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #gyutaro demon slayer #gyutaro kimetsu no yaiba #babys first post #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader

[the-good-bad-truth]

Ariana, Selena, Rihanna, Taylor, Camila Cabello and the list can go on and on of these women and many others whose bodies have been criticized and picked apart by the social media and the public over the years. Yesterday, I watched the tiktok that Ariana posted talking about how she’s fine and for people to stop commenting on her body and health. Although, I get why fans tend to worry over their favs when their bodies or appearance changes drastically because in the past many celebs had to practically starve themselves or bring harm to themselves because their labels or team made them keep a certain image. However, I do think that sometimes fans or the media can go a bit overboard with expressing their concerns. For example, if you constantly are talking about how a celeb looks sick, that they're dying, ugly, fat, or that they lost their beauty or are going downhill, then you are crossing a line. Because what if they do have a medical issue or disorder or what if they're at their healthiest and someone commenting that they don’t look like how they did before is not going to make them feel any better. I also think it’s weird that physical looks are so heavily tied to determining the value of a female celebrity or any one for that matter. Like women can never truly look perfect. They are either too skinny or fat, short or too tall, either look too manly, too old, wrinkly, too plastic, their dresses are too short or they cover up their body too much. One example is Billie Eilish, now I’m not a fan of hers but the way the media kind of praised her but at the same time was someone shaming her because of the mystery of her body. She made it known when she was a teen that she liked wearing baggy clothes because she didn’t want people to pay attention to her body more than her music, which made perfect sense. However, people ended up focusing on her body even more especially when some pap photos came out where she was wearing a tank top and people would make comments that she was overweight or on her chest size. She even got more backlash when she appeared on vogue where she was wearing lingerie, I believe and her fans were upset because they felt she was being a hypocrite. My thing is that she grew up, there is nothing wrong with wanting to be covered up just as much as there’s nothing wrong with wanting to dress sexy. I just don’t like how female celebs will get ranked based on their looks like Adele was never seen as attractive but know that she lost weight, She’s hot and a classic beauty or how designers didn’t want to dress Bebe Rexha cuz she didn’t fit their body type. Even the Kardashians, like Kourtney is being praised for showing off her natural body but where was the same energy for Khloe when she was being called Fat and the ugly sister, know she got surgery and somehow she’s plastic and seen as an attention seeker. It’s like Women can never win, but have to be perfect even though there is no such thing as perfect.

#Celebs #body shame #celebrities #Toxic #Selena gomez #camila cabello #Billie Eilish #beauty standards #hate #hollywood #Ariana grande #Women

[loveandlucky]

Greener Pastures

Enjoy this little thing I wrote a while ago but didn't have the confidence to post until now ♡♡♡ I like to think they met this way.

Oh, to be lost. Not just lost, but lost without means for navigation, lost without food, lost without money. Lucy bent over to catch her breath. It was the middle of a particularly hot August day. The sun glared through yellow lenses. Lucy could almost feel it laughing at her, and she felt deserving of such snickering.

About 5 weeks had passed since she gathered up all the courage in her possession to leave her childhood home. The thought of home sickened her, and she fought the urge to gag in the already nauseating heat. Memories of her father raced through her head. Six years of being shut out, six years of wandering the Heartfilia’s grounds alone, six years of feeling like she couldn’t replace her mother, and therefore had no real purpose, no reason to exist. Strangely, Lucy couldn’t seem to form the memories with her mother as clearly. She remembered her slowly dying, she remembered all the nurses and doctors, she remembered the stifled weeping of housekeepers. Before that, all she had left were emotions. Love, hope, cheer. She wondered if she could ever find such feelings again. If she did, they definitely weren’t going to be waiting for her back at that estate.

For now, all she had were her classic whip, small yet beloved set of keys, and the small suitcase containing a few sets of clothes, her diary, and family pictures she just couldn’t bear to leave behind.

“Out of money and out of time,” Lucy muttered to herself. She turned around to see if the carriage was still visible on the horizon. Even perched upon the hills she spent the last two hours climbing, she couldn’t see one in sight. Sure she realized halfway through the ride that she was flat broke, but that shouldn’t mean the driver had to leave her in the middle of nowhere! Well, not nowhere. A plaintive signage that was posted at the bottom of the hills told her this was somewhere near Tuly Village. With no map, this information did her about as much good as the long grass that she continuously found herself tangled up in on this trek.

She threw her legs up and over a small wooden fence. Surely this was someone’s property, but Lucy didn’t mind adding “trespassing” to her growing list of roadtrip to-dos. One of the many cows raised its head at her, gnawing away at the long stems. Another one threw her a confused grunt.

“Well mooooo to you, too,” Lucy hissed through her teeth, turning towards the fence and struggling to loosen her sweater’s fibers from the splintery wood.

Glancing behind her at the herd of grazing cows, she noticed that the one that made a noise at her was…standing up?! Convinced she was about to be consumed by some magical farm monster, she started pulling at the threads with more force.

“I knew I should have gone with a tank top this morning!” Lucy wailed, finally ripping a small hole in the material. She whipped around once more, freed from the wooden clutches.

The monster did not bother replying as he stomped towards the shaking girl, his massive hooves easily maneuvering the grassy plain. The sound from a bell around his neck sent Lucy into a spiral. That’s the sound of a dinner bell, Lucy thought to herself, imagining being roasted over an open pit while the monster cackled as he spun her round and round the open flames.

She sank to the ground. “Please don’t eat me! I’m too cute! A-and I’m skinny, I won’t taste good!” she cried out, all but praying that it changed its mind. As it stalked closer, she shut her eyes, much too afraid to see what it was like up close.

“Oooo you’re even MOOre beautiful up close!” A deep yet playful voice howled. Lucy opened her eyes, shocked.

“What the?!” Lucy ogled at the anthropomorphic beast before her. It was as if a muscular and tall man had been morphed halfway into a bovine. “What are you doing?” She screeched, backing up into the fenceline.

“I could ask you the same thing, lovely lady,” The creature smiled, and Lucy felt a certain warmth through it, a similar feeling as the one she had when getting ready to open one of her zodiac gates. Now that it was so close, and her fear had turned to focus, she noticed a certain aura about the beast, and she was drawn to it.

“I’m, uh, well I’m just traveling through,” Lucy stammered, barely getting the words out. She remained crouched on the ground.

“You’re a celestial wizard, no?” He mooed, crossing his arms.

“How did you know that?” Lucy’s hand hovered over her key ring.

“Any celestial spirit can sense the presence of a wizard, plus you’ve got some of those keys,” He responded, holding out a large and furry white hand.

Lucy slowly raised her hand to his, tentatively touching the course hairs. He grabbed Lucy’s hand forcefully, pulling her quickly to her feet. With his hand still clasped around her own, she felt a warm pulse of magic throughout her body.

“It’s you…you’re…” Lucy gasped a few words out, looking the spirit up and down in amazement.

“Taurus! Gate of the Golden Bull! One of the twelve golden zodiacs! Of course I’m the strongest…but the others made that damn cat their leader. And where has he been? He hasn’t shown his face in the spirit realm in years! He can’t just mooove away from the others like that! Leo should be-” The spirit was cut off as Lucy began swirling around him in awe.

“Do you have an owner? How much can you lift? Where’s your key? Why are you in a field of normal cows? Does that piercing ever get uncomfortable? Why are your pants so tight?” Lucy continued orbiting him, questioning him with the energy of a ten year old child.

The spirit was taken aback. “I’m udderly alone, I have no owner, miss!”

She stopped in front of him, shaking her head in wonder. “I sure have gotten lucky…again…I must say It’s a pleasure to meet such an esteemed celestial spirit! I know I’m young and I’ve got a long way to go as a wizard, but I’d love to have you by my side, Taurus!”

He clasped his hands together in cheer, light jumps rumbling the ground beneath them. “Moooooo! I would love toooo!”

Lucy smiled, tilting her head. “The name’s Lucy, by the way.”

“So your name is Lucy? You’ve got a real nice body!” It was the cow’s turn to circle the young girl, and he looked a little too pleased about the sights before him.

Lucy crossed her arms. “What a pervert…maybe I should reconsider…”

Taurus turned to face her, suddenly serious. “No need for that young lady! As long as we are contracted together I will be sure to protect you!” Lucy blushed at the sweetness of his words. “And that nice body,” the cow added. Lucy thought for a moment.

As the breeze moved swiftly through the plains, she placed a hand on her hair to keep it from blowing golden locks into her eyes. She did need protection. Aquarius was, at her best, mildly helpful, and at worst, spending her moments viciously remarking on Lucy’s body and lack of companionship. Cancer was swift and sharp, but not nearly as strong as this Golden Bull. She sensed that although he was a bit too flirty, he would suffice to keep her safe.

“Do you promise?” she asked, looking into the bull’s dark eyes.

The bull enthusiastically nodded in response. “I promise!”

After enduring two or three more flirtatious comments, she had him sign their contract. “Just sign your name and we’ll be partners!” She beamed with excitement.

“Partners?” Taurus questioned, flexing his ears like a confused puppy.

“Of course! You protect me, and I protect you. My spirits are my friends,” Lucy remarked adamantly.

The celestial spirit smiled, feeling a great sense of hope and strength in their new bond, before disappearing into a shimmering light. Lucy picked up the axe-shaped key, brushing the weeds away softly with her hand. She held the key close to her heart for a few moments, before attaching it to her key ring. Lucy felt more assured about her journey. After all, she just made her first friend, all by herself. However, she was still hungry, and she was pretty sure beef was off the menu for a while.

#fairy tail #lucy heartfilia #taurus #fairy tail fanfiction #loveandluckywrites

[hunting-songs]

Fashion & Appearance Stats. BOLD what applies to your muse.

 BODY long legs / short legs / average legs / slender thighs / thick thighs / muscular thighs / skinny arms / soft arms / muscular arms / toned stomach / flat stomach / flabby stomach / soft stomach / six pack / beer belly / lean frame / muscular frame / voluptuous frame / petite frame / lanky frame / short nails / long nails / manicured nails / dirty nails / flat ass / toned ass / bubble butt / thick ass / small waist / thick waist / narrow hips / average hips / wide hips / big feet / average feet / small feet / soft feet / slender feet / calloused hands / soft hands / big hands / average hands / small hands / long fingers / short fingers / average fingers / broad shouldered / underweight / average weight / overweight  Not expected, but Senritsu is a fit woman. Not only in the manner of "fit and strong enough to marsh with a marshing -band while keeping up playing in tact, carrying her instrument, and staying in sync movements with the other bandmembers", but also very much "fit and strong enough to carry her own piano if needed.", which obviously comes from the fact that she is not only a musician but also a craftman who needs to carry her own materials, and also a adventuerer who often goes into areas far away from any save civilisation, so she needs to stay fit. We all better remember that table she threw in the 1999 anime... HEIGHT  shorter than 140 cm / 141 cm-150 cm / 151 cm to 160 cm / 161 cm to 170 cm / 171 cm to 180cm / 181 cm to 190 cm / 191 cm to 2m / taller than 2 m. Senritsu had never been a especially tall person. And than she lost a foot in height after she was cursed. And while this made her bones and muscles inhumanly dense and gave her a boost in physical stenght and enduranceas she did not lost any mass, she also is now shorter than a average 13-year-old like Killua.

SKIN  pale / rosy / olive / dark / tanned / blotchy / smooth / acne / dry / greasy / freckled 

EYES  small / large / average / grey / brown / blue / green / gold / hazel / red / doe - eyed / almond / close - set / wide - set / squinty / monolid / heavy eyelids / upturned / downturned 

HAIR  thin / thick / fine / normal / greasy / dry / soft / shiny / curly / frizzy / wild / unruly / straight / smooth / wavy / floppy / cropped / pixie - cut / shoulder length / back length / waist length / buzz cut / bald / jaw length / mohawk / white / platinum blonde / golden blonde / dirty blonde / colourless / blonde / ombre / light brown / mouse brown / chestnut brown / golden brown / chocolate brown / dark brown / jet black / ginger / dark red / auburn / dyed red / dyed an unnatural color / thin eyebrows / average eyebrows / thick eyebrows Before the curse Senritsu had very thick, coarse hair. After she had been cursed she lost the hair on top of her head but it does not change that she still has very thick hair that remainds one a little of a horses mane. All of Senritsus sisters have their fathers red hair and the only one who got their mothers black hair is her little brother. It is very easy to see a stark family resemblance, even now when Senritsus features are distorted because of the curse. Considering the line of work Senritsu works in, this might not be the best circumstance for her and her siblings...

TATTOOS / PIERCINGS  no tattoos / one tattoo / a few here and there / multiple / full sleeve / thigh tattoo / shoulder tattoo / forearm tatoo / neck tattoo / chest tattoo / no piercings  / ear piercings / nose piercing / lip piercing / tongue piercing / eyebrow piercing / navel piercing / cheek piercing / nipple piercing / genital piercing  While Senritsu is a big fan of bodyart and has her tendencys towards punk and rock aesthetics, she is also a professional craftman working as a instrument- conservator (as in: it is part of her beeing a musichunter to restore old musicinstruments or build them after oral/ old -written- traditions to bring forgotten pieces back into the world and for this she got her craftman-training). And therefor she avoids piercings, because they could easily get caught and ripped out during work. The only piercing she has is her left earlobe were she wears the traditional tippelei-earring she still wears from her time as a journeyman where she had spend three years wandering to learn from different craftmasters. COSMETICS   eyeliner / light eyeliner / heavy eyeliner / cat eyes / mascara / fake eyelashes / matte lipstick / regular lipstick / lipgloss / red lips / pink lips / dark lips / bronzer / highlighter / eyeshadow / neutral eyeshadow / smoky eyes / colorful eyeshadow / blush / lipliner / light contouring / heavy contouring / powder / matte foundation / shiny foundation / concealer / wears regularly / occasionally wears / never wears Senritsu respects the art of makeup, but never finds time to indulge in it. She will put on (and have fun with) simple concealer/ eyeliner/ lipstick/ blush and more heavy smokey eyes when she has to doll up when hired to give a concert (which usually happend only before she was cursed as she had that time worked more often as a hireable muscian), but nowdays she will just put on a matte-foundation-colored-facelotion in the morning,as her line of work nowdays does not need a pretty face for a preformance.

SCENT  floral / fruity / perfumes / aftershave / cocoa / moisturizer / shampoo / cigarettes / leather / sweat / food / incense / marijuana / cologne / whiskey / wine / fried food / blood / fire / metal / ice Senritsu usually wears a faint parfume smelling of lily-of-the-valley, that she wears on the inside of her wrists. She does not like strong scents. 

CLOTHES  jeans / tight pants / over knee socks / tights / leggings / yoga pants / pencil skirt / tight skirt / loose skirt / formfitting dress / cardigans / blouse / button up shirt / band t - shirt / vests / sweatpants / tank top / cutoff t - shirt / designer / high street / online stores / thrift / lingerie / long skirt / miniskirt / maxidress / sundress / tie / tuxedo / cocktail dress / high slit dress/skirt / t - shirt / loose clothing / tight clothing / jeans shorts / sweater / sweater vest /  khaki pants / suit / hoodie / hareem pants / basketball shorts / boxers / briefs / thong / hotpants / hipster pants / bra / sports bra / crop top / corset / ballerina skirt / leotard / polka dot / stripes / glitter / silk / lace / leather / velvet / chemise / linen / cotton / wool / patterns / florals / neon colors / pastels / black / dark colors / fur / faux fur *there is a certaine standart of professionalism Senritsu has to bow to on her work. Which means that if she is not wearing a suit, she wears a blouse, a thick craftman-vest and long trousers to fit her work enviorment. However, if one would ever catch Senritsu on a day off and very much away from anything workrelated, she definitive would wear her favorite bands t-shirts. For now those band t-shirts had been downgraded to sleep-wear.

Tagged By: A little Wildbirdie! Tagging: @ashestxashes @jxgi @thaneirstaer @bewitchingbaker @rake-rake @daedapix @distortedkilling @swxpped @skarletchains @muddsludge @curseisms @zealctry ...and YOU !

#.................................. #ARE there any named musicbands in the hxh world? #...????? #hunting-songs: headcanon #hunting-songs #I now want to draw senritsu in a band t-shirt xxD #senritsu leans mroe and more into punk and rock aesthetic on this blog and I do not know what to think about it xxxD

[born-to-lose]

higirlie 💞🍻🫂 some devils bells q’s

whtd do devils bells look like? does anyone call jack jd? (i will b calling him jd bc i already “know” a jack n she is ummmm well she will get jealous (half joke)(dont ask)) how does jd feel about being the youngest in the band? whts liz family life like? wht do they all prefer 2 drink? who has the grossest pizza order? wht r all of their pizza orders? wht r their stage shows like? 

will come back w more questions in a few 💞🫂🍻

What do Devil's Bells look like?

Oh boy I don't have a hyperspecific description where I could give you pictures of people who look like them, but I have a vague idea as of now

Liz: straight layered long golden blonde hair with bangs (once dyed the tips pink in a motel sink), rosy skin, the shortest in the band (about 5'4"), medium to chubby with curves, dresses like an 80s glam rocker with fringed jackets, leopard pants etc

Jack: messy shoulder-length black dyed hair with light brown roots growing out but he always re-dyes them before they're too visible, very pale skin, a bit taller than Liz, quite skinny, usually wears band shirts and ripped jeans

Phil: wavy strawberry blonde hair, fair olive skin, the tall lanky guy in the band (slightly below 6'3"), rather thin but still has muscle from his work as a drummer, wears loose half unbuttoned shirts with the sleeves rolled up

Antonio: long curly dark brown hair, tan skin, tall and kinda brawny but a little shorter than Phil, some muscle but not too much, classic outfit is shirtless with a vest or graphic tees

Does anyone call Jack JD?

They all called him JD at some point, but unlike with most other things, Liz is the only one not allowed to call him that. He's completely fine with the other guys because it's "a bro nickname, not a pet name" and even if they're not exclusive, he wants to keep some sort of special treatment with her and call each other pet names

How does JD feel about being the youngest in the band?

Even if his bandmates treat him like the band baby sometimes, they only do it ironically (except Liz, she takes care of him as much as she can when needed). They see him as an equal, although, being the eldest, Antonio does try to have some kind of a not exactly parental role but be someone to give advice when Jack asks for it and keeps an eye on him if necessary. He sometimes feels a bit weird about being the youngest, but overall he doesn't really care because he's also an adult, just a few years younger than the rest and he's never left out by any of them

What's Liz's family life like?

It's actually not bad! The only one who has serious problems with his family is Jack and to some extent Phil, but it's more of an indifferent relationship than a feud. Liz's relationship with her father is complicated since he had a bunch of abusive or manipulative moments while other times he was indifferent and just ignored the fact she existed and other times he was friendly but never as close as she and her mother are. Her mom used to be overly careful when she was younger, but when she turned 18 she let loose a bit and trusted her enough to not get into trouble. She has a good relationship with her four years older sister and attended her first concerts with her. Both her parents weren't too fond of her travelling on her own because they considered her too young, but she promised to come back and start working after a six month break (which she obviously broke later on). The moment she called to tell them she had formed a band, they were sceptical and still are when they have some small local successes, but eventually they came to terms with it because she does what she's always wanted to do, she found really good friends in her bandmates and she visits her family regularly

What do they all prefer to drink?

Jack loves whiskey (he literally named himself after it c'mon), Liz likes gin, Phil drinks pretty much anything but mostly wine, Antonio usually takes some alcohol free drink like cola or energy drinks or even a non-alcoholic beer

Who has the grossest pizza order?

Jack unironically eats pineapple on pizza, which makes Antonio want to strangle him every time so they eventually just decide to get margherita for everyone or eat something completely else (I'll admit I have eaten pineapple on pizza before and enjoyed it)

What are all of their pizza orders?

Liz: tonno e cipolla; Jack: Hawaiian pizza; Phil: quattro formaggi; Antonio: pizza spinaci

What are their stage shows like?

They don't have bombastic stage shows yet since the only gigs they get are at small clubs, but they do try to entertain the audience as much as they can with the means available. Liz usually does something with her bandmates like mic sharing with Jack, resting her arm on Antonio's shoulder, doing the presenting pose at Phil during drum solos etc. She also gets on her knees and crawls on the floor sometimes, eye fucks and winks at certain people because that's one of the best ways to get the attention of the audience. And of course they throw their picks into the crowd (but not drumsticks since they're too broke to give everything away) and hang out at the club afterwards to chat and sometimes even sign stuff when people approach them and want to be "among the first to have met Devil's Bells"

#KISSING YOU KISSING YOU KISSING YOU KISSING YOU #ask #zigmentality #barbi #devil's bells

[sugarrushproductions]

Darkwing Duck Reboot

Old Habits, Same Face

Needless to say, Darkwing was out on the streets within a couple of hours after LP and the others left for Duckburg. The five days that they stayed, Gosalyn wouldn’t let anyone but Lena and the triplets into her room. Drake hadn’t been able to get to her much and when she came out for meals, though she wasn’t completely cut off, she wasn’t fully there either. It got worse when LP left.

Why can’t he just stay? Darkwing thought as he rode through the city on Ratcatcher, searching for any signs of villainy. Nothing was coming up to distract him from his troubling thoughts.

Was he not good enough to make LP want to stay?

You’re being selfish, Drake, rang in his head. Launchpad had a family in Duckburg, a life; How could he ask him to leave it? How could he wish that?

“Hold still!” a voice yelled from an ally. “This will only take a second.” Crash! “Ugh, You’re making this harder than it has to be!”

Finally! A crime to fight! It sounded like that woman was harassing someone. A mobster or just a mugger? Though, her voice seemed too soft, too weirdly apologetic, too… familiar. Still, he had to do something. Parking Ratcatcher nearby and getting out some smoke bombs, Darkwing readied his entrance.

“I am the terror that flaps in night!” he yelled as he threw down the smoke bombs, creating a purple mist bath for the ally for him to jump into. “I am the lightning bolt Zeus has lost! I am- wha-ogch!” he cried out as he was thrown against the wall. Why did he never get to finish his catchphrase?

“Leave me be; I’ve work to do.” The woman’s voice was now strict and slightly foreboding. Still really familiar.

“There is no way I can do that, vile verminous, malicious mobster!” Quickly, though he couldn’t see but a silhouette of a tall woman, he went for an uppercut. She stumbled back at the force of it, but where her hands were soon glowed a bright blood red. The same color he saw before he was thrown against the wall. What kind of weapons were those? No matter.

Before the woman found him, he ran and punched her in the stomach. With a loud groan she staggered back against the wall. Darkwing heard her growl as he was raised in the air and thrown to the ground. Over and over again, each one hurting more than the last.

“Why can’t people like you just leave me alone? I’m not hurting anyone!”

“Tell that- ow! To- ow! Ow! Ow!” Finally, he was thrown against the wall again and was quickly wrapped in some loose cloth. He could easily-

Hissss.

Suddenly, in a flash of red, the cloth was no longer cloth but constricting silver snakes.

“Oh, darn it. I meant to do steel chains. Sorry- Drake?” the woman asked. Darkwing would have said something, but a snake was wrapping itself around his beak. Nearby, the lights of a store that had been having electrical problems finally turned on. It let a warm glow fall over them, allowing Darkwing to see her in full. 

(JuciyDucks art)

Tall but not fully skinny, spiked, almost wild black hair with gray streaks, two framing her face. He knew she dyed them in. A bright red shirt and maroon jacket that had gold around the collar and sleeves, torn at the bottom. She had a white choker with a bright red jewel that let her green eyes shine bright. Even as they were filled with confusion.

“Morgana?” he mumbled. The snake was not happy at the movement, quickly moving its head to hiss in his eyes. Darkwing whimpered as his eyes widened in fear.

“Oh, right.” With a quick wave of her hands the snakes turned to a lightweight metal. “Sorry, Drake.”

“Uh, could you not call me that name right now? I’m in my hero suit, after all.”

“You really took cosplaying to another level,” Morgana muttered, looking him up and down with an amused smile. “You are too cute, Darkwing.” The compliment that bordered on condescension made him blush. He quickly shook his head to regain his thoughts.

“What are you doing in St. Canard? I thought you lived in Transilvania.”

“Ugh, everyone there was getting on my nerves. Trying to get me to do more magic, yet never giving me a straight answer when I asked how to transform a hat into a stinking wolf!” Morgana stamped her foot and red shot out from under it. Darkwing’s hat was suddenly heavier. And softer. And growling…

A purple wolf pounced off his head and began to chase him around. Morgana, apologizing profusely, shot red bits of magic after the wolf, transforming, among other things, a trash bin to a toaster, a poster into a grilled cheese, and the light bulbs of the building across into birds. Finally, Darkwing used his grappling hook to hang up out of its reach from the fire escape.

"Heel, you stupid mutt!" Morgana yelled, shooting one last blast at the wolf. Darkwing's wide brimmed hat fluttered to the ground as he followed.

“Thanks,” he said, brushing the purple fur off and putting it back on his head. 

“Don’t thank me, I caused the mess,” Morgana muttered dejectedly, looking more like she had the first time Darkwing seen her. Unsure of herself and no confidence. “Maybe-”

“No. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Morgana tilted her head in innocent confusion as Darkwing gave her a familiar glare.

“Beat yourself up over an accident.” Morgana made to protest, but Darkwing stopped her. “So you messed up and turned my hat into a purple wolf that tried to eat me. So what? At least you made it change. That’s progress!” Morgana smiled at him fondly.

“Yeah, I guess it is…” A crash was heard from across the street startling the two. Morgana tried to insist on going over to help, but Darkwing told her that it was his job. However, he asked if she wanted to meet up for lunch at the Dave & Busters for lunch the next day. She obliged and they went their separate ways for the night.

By the time Darkwing had finished getting rid of the light bulbs turned mean, pecking birds, he hardly had enough energy to finish his patrol. Looking at the radar on his motorcycle, he saw that it was a fairly quiet night. He figured he could make it home and get some rest before tomorrow. He couldn’t wait for Gos to meet Morgana. 

And then he remembered. Sure, there were no robberies, no muggings, no shootings. But there were no signs of a certain duck or bull either…

He’d find them. Even if it took the rest of his life, Drake would keep his promise to his girl.

. . .

In the morning, Gosalyn was sleepier than usual. It took the combination of Drake knocking on her door five different times, going in there to shake her awake a little, and the smell of waffles to get her up.

At first Drake assumed that she'd just been on her phone all night and was about to scold her for it, when he remembered that her phone hadn't left the designated charging area for when she wasn't allowed to use it. So that left the question of what made her so tired.

But he'd deal with that later. Drake wanted her on her best behavior for their day with Morgana.

"Who's Morgana again?" Gosalyn asked as they waited at the entrance to the restaurant. Drake was about to answer, but a voice did it for him.

"That would be me," Morgana said as she walked up to them. Her purse was black with a few occult pins and chains that Gosalyn was immediately fascinated with. "Sorry I'm late. I had a few… things to take care of." Drake gave her a confused and suspicious look. 

"Oo! Like… magic, things?" Gosalyn asked, a mischievous look on her face. Morgana, for a split second, gained a worried look that could have been confusion. Drake was the only one who noticed what it really was.

"Um… nope! Nothing like that. I was just… watering my plants." Gosalyn groaned as Drake ushered them inside. But he gave Morgana a look that said that she would be questioned later. It was a look he'd often give her.

"Table for three; one 11, two adults," Drake told the host. As he led them to their table, Drake noticed that while Gosalyn seemed like she was eager to start playing some games, her eyes held the tired makings of something else. Drake was sure to put her on the inside of the booth.

As they ordered their drinks, Morgana's eyes had a mischievous glint that Drake had seen many times before, and they never turned out well for the people's self esteem when it was directed at them.

"So, who's the lucky guy you adopted her with?" Morgana asked extremely nonchalantly as she stirred the ice around in her latte. Drake choked on his water, blushing like crazy. 

"Why'd you assume I'm adopted by him and another guy?" Gosalyn asked. "Wouldn't you first think about me being his biological daughter with a girl." After all that happened the past year, the one constant was people assuming that.

"Most would if they hadn't dated him."

"You dated Drake!?" Morgana chuckled, especially when she asked about embarrassing stories.

"Oh, there are plenty of those. Granted, I caused most of them, but it was still funny." 

As they ate, Drake had to endure her telling embarrassing stories of how he tripped over her feet when they first met (she said it right), him often getting caught with the weirdest cosplays (like a purple bath towel and cardboard hat), and how she'd accidentally turned him into a fish, cat, and bull once (all separate times). Gosalyn redirected the conversation then, ignoring the fact that Morgana accidentally confirmed she used magic, which concerned Drake.

"So, how did you two break up? You seem to get on really well."

"Well," Drake started nervously. Sure, he'd never exactly hidden that he was gay from her, but he wasn't sure how'd she would react to it being outright said. "It was mutual, I'll tell you that."

"Yes, but if I never dated him, I do think I would've realized I was bi as soon as I did," Morgana continued. Gosalyn tilted her head. "It means that I like both men and women."

"Oh. Cool," Gosalyn answered. That settled the nerves in Drake’s stomach a little as he spoke again.

"A-and she, well, helped me realize that I… I was .. um,... gay?" Gosalyn noticed his nerves and hugged him after he finished. 

"You don't have to be nervous. My grandpa told me to accept everyone for who they are." Drake chuckled and hugged her back.

"I can't wait to meet him." Gosalyn tensed, but quickly covered it by teasingly punching his arm.

"No wonder you always make goo-goo eyes at Launchpad all the time."

"I- I do not!" Drake's red face said otherwise. Morgana watched the exchange in amusement. By doing this, she learned that Drake had been playing Darkwing in real life for about two years (the first with little crime to fight because of Gizmoduck. She was sure he wanted to say something mean about him), fought with Scrooge McDuck in that weird moon invasion, had been taking care of Gosalyn for over a year, and helped Scrooge defeat F.O.W.L; all because of one duck.

Finally, to get Gosalyn to leave him alone, he gave her twenty bucks to go play games. Just that he would be checking some of them after. Drake seemed to think something was up, but she couldn’t figure out what it was.

. . .

It had taken Gosalyn forever to find a kid who would trade whatever prizes and tickets they had for her twenty bucks and play the games with her name as the player. But she did it. And now she could get on with her mission.

Last night, Gosalyn hadn't gotten back to the apartment until 3:am, like the rest of the week. How Drake did that every night without fail, she didn't know. And she wondered if he ever felt this disappointed any time a mission failed.

Finding a nice secluded corner of the arcade, she got out her old laptop, connected to the wifi, and started her research. If Wanda wasn’t such a stupid tattletale, she would have used her. But this was personal and she didn't need him stopping her.

Taurus Bulba, once a renowned scientist and worldwide innovator, now is in maximum security prison-

Outdated info. Maybe deeper in the page.

Dr. Bulba has just made the world's biggest discovery. According to him, anyway. But with the string of accidents, people have a right to be skeptical.

Sounded like a good read if Bulba was being attacked for his lies, but not what she was looking for. Maybe if she went further.…

In astrology, Taurus is the second sign of the zodiac, considered as governing that portion of the year from about April 20 to about May 20. Its representation as a bull is related to the Greek myth of Zeus, who assumed the form of a bull to abduct Europa. Taurus.

"Oh, come on!" She yelled in frustration. That wasn't even close to what she needed. "I just need a little more!"

"Gos?" She heard Lena's voice from in front of her. Quickly, she shut her laptop and put it in her backpack, lest Lena find out what she was up to. 

. . .

"He what?!" Morgana asked, laughing with a blushing Drake. 

"Yeah, he's not the best at cooking." Morgana coughed something that sounded like 'hypocrite'. Drake glared.

"What?" She asked innocently, batting her eyes in her mischievous way. Drake narrowed his eyes and she chuckled as she took a bite of her food. "I'm just saying, you have a nasty habit of forgetting the milk in recipes. For better and worse."

"Don't you mean, 'or'?"

"Nope!" Drake rolled his eyes and continued eating. It was nice seeing Morgana again, even though she was teasing him relentlessly and embarrassing him, but last night still bugged him.

"Hey, Morgana?" He treaded softly.

"Yeah Drake?" She asked, focusing more on her plate than him.

“What were you doing last night before I found you?”

Previous/Next

Index

#darkwing duck #drake mallard #dt17 #dt17 gosalyn #dt17 launchpad #drake x lp #drakepad #darkwing dad #darkwing duck reboot

[asc-rewrite]

Flamepaw

(this was inspired by @/marmotclaw's character info stuff :)

Names/alias': Flamekit, Flamepaw Clanmew name(s): Fyn-pwyr Gender: Cis-male (he/him) Clan: ThunderClan Rank: Apprentice Age: Approx. 12 moons (12 months) Appearance: a shorthaired black tom with a tint of russet that appeared as he grew. Build: tall, skinny

Kin

Mothers: Larksong (Deceased), Sparkstorm (Living) Foster mother: Sorrelstripe (Living) Foster father: Dewnose (Living) Biological siblings: Finchpaw (Living, ♀), Flickerkit (Deceased, ♂) Foster siblings: Myrtlepaw (Living, ♀), Baypaw (Living, ♂)

Education

Mentor(s)/Instructor(s): Berrynose (Deceased, former), Lilyheart (Living, official)

Relationships

Platonic Love: Larksong, Sorrelstripe, Bramblestar

Best friend(s): Baypaw

Friend(s): Myrtlepaw

Mixed feelings: Dewnose, Squirrelflight, Lilyheart, Brackenfur, Finchpaw

───※ ·❆· ※──────※ ·❆· ※──────※ ·❆· ※──────※ ·❆· ※───

Kithood

Flamepaw was given birth to by Sparkstorm, along with Finchkit, and Flickerkit. Though, Flickerkit was stillborn, and died shortly after his birth, but not before getting to meet his dying mother, Larksong. Because Larksong died right after he was born, he never got to meet his other parent.

This caused Sparkstorm, his other mother, to fall into a horrible state of depression, not bothering to care for her last two kits. Because of this, he was instead nursed by another nurser, Sorrelstripe, who had her kits coming soon. He and Finchkit were spoiled by the caretakers and Sorrelstripe when he was very young, but then when he was seven days old, ready to open his eyes, Sparkstorm decided to take care of her kittens.

When he grew around one moon old, the caretakers would tell him stories of Firestar. Fernsong told him stories of the mythological clans, while Daisy told him stories about legends that had spread around the twolegplace she had visited once.

They both then told him stories of Firestar, and how he was a legend and a hero to all the clans. Flamekit admired Firestar, his eyes shone everytime they spoke highly of him.

He thought; maybe one day, he could be like Firestar, too. When he asks Sparkstorm if he was named after the legendary warrior, a few heartbeats of silence echo around the nursery for a moment... until she finally answers;

"...No, I didn't name you after Firestar," xe told him. "It wasn't even my idea to name you Flamekit. Larksong thought that if we ever had a tom, we could name him Flamekit. I don't know the meaning behind your name... Only Larksong does."

Flamekit was disappointed. He felt sad that he wasn't actually named after Firestar, it also just... Didn't make sense to him. Everyone else thought he was named after Firestar, so why wasn't he actually named after him?

Flamekit pushed those thoughts away. He thought that Larksong must have named him after Firestar, that's why she chose his name as Flamekit!

For once he felt important. He believed, or he hoped, he was named after the legendary Firestar...

Apprenticeship

When he was later made into an apprentice during the imposter's reign, having Berrynose as his mentor, who had later died tragically in battle, so Lilyheart replaced him. He and Finchpaw both trained hard to become a warrior, but every time, Finchpaw would always win. She'd hunt better than him, she'd fight better than him, she even climbed better than him.

He felt jealous, how was he supposed to be the second-coming of Firestar when he lost everything to his littermate? He grew resentful of his siblings' success, and she was constantly praised by senior warriors, Myrtlepaw and Baypaw, and the elders.

But, something distracted him from his hatred, which was the reign of the imposter. He grew horrified once he found his mother, covered with blood and scratches, limping back to camp, and then flopping helplessly down.

He'd heard from some warriors that Bramblestar was being unfair, but he didn't listen to them, even after all of that. He could never believe Bramblestar would do such a thing to his mother, he just couldn't!

And then, his mother confronted Bramblestar, deciding to leave ThunderClan. He felt betrayed, she was abandoning her own clan! Firestar wouldn't want this! Worst of all, his sister was coming with her.

Sparkstorm turned to look at Flamepaw, and asked him if he'd like to join her. He declines, Firestar wouldn't want this.

Timeskip, after the events of ALitM, but before River, Flamepaw was finally good at something; hunting! Cats finally praised him for his catches, and he was starting to earn the respect from the senior warriors!

Though, he started to get a little cocky about the fact he was named after, and that he had the hunting skills of Firestar. And by a little cocky, that meant he was very cocky; constantly reminding Finchpaw, Myrtlepaw, and Baypaw of that fact, and when he was starting to grow a slight hint of dark orange, he took it as a sign... He was the second-coming of Firestar.

#warrior cats #wc #nightheart #wc nightheart #nightheart wc #flamepaw #wc flamepaw #flamepaw wc #aaron's asc rewrite #aaron's character bio stuff

[dippydots]

FINALLY ANOTHER CHAPTER

Edmund had noticed how Edith's voice sounded quite hoarse. That was very unlike her usual tone, monotone and clear. But now her hoarse voice was starting to make him even more worried. "Edith you don't look so good, are you okay?" Edmund said, stopping the group in their tracks. Edith opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out as she passed out on the grass. The trio stared silently out of initial shock, before Edmund starting screaming. He ran to her side, pulling her up and trying to wake her up. "Edith?! Edith, please wake up!" He continued to repeat the words over and over again. "What do we do, what do we do?!" Robin asked, grasping his head. Edmund thought about what Papa would say to do: find the nearest adult. "Robin! Carry Edith, and Maisie, drag the wagon! Both of you follow me!" Robin picked Edith up the best he could, and Maisie pulled the wagon. Edmund started to run as fast as he could, and the others followed. "Help! Somebody! Anybody, please!" he screamed, frantically wishing and hoping that someone was there. He continued to run, there was nothing else he could do. The others followed close behind, and soon Edmund's screams were rewarded. A small village could be seen at the end of the woods. The trio ran to the nearest house and Edmund pounded on the door. He gasped for air, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Maisie and Robin looked the same way. Edith was still limp. The door opened eventually. The kids looked up to see a tall, skinny man with a concerned expression on his face. "Can I help you?" he asked. "I'm Edmund, that's Maisie and Robin. Edith, my sister, she's dying!" Edmund said, pointing to Edith, "She wasn't looking so good, and then she fainted!" The tears were streaming down his cheeks. "Get inside," the man said, taking Edith from Robin. The kids followed him in, and he rested Edith on the couch. "Do you guys need water or food? Where are your parents?" he asked. "We've been on a quest!" Maisie said with a proud, sharp-toothed smile. The man's eyes had a hint of shock, but he quickly changed the subject. "A quest? Away from your parents?"

"Yeah we were trying to find our uncle's brother, so by default our uncle," Edmund laughed uneasily. Robin looked over at a display case. "Are th-those knives?" he asked curiously. "Oh, those. Yeah, I've collected knives since I was twelve."

"Well that's definitely not problematic," a very tired and raspy sounding voice said. Edmund gasped excitedly. "Edith! You're okay! You're not dead!" He rushed over to her. "Do you remember your name?! How many fingers am I holding up?!" Edith's eyes were barely open. "You're not holding any up, you nimrod," she said hoarsely. "Oh right." She closed her eyes again. "Where are we?" she mumbled. "We're at this guy's house," Maisie said, pointing to the man. "Cool," she mumbled. "Could you get her water please?" Robin asked. The man nodded, and turned to the kitchen. Edmund glanced around the room. There was a bookshelf full of video games, older games. He recognized a few titles, they were at Edward's place. The guy quickly came back. "Here you go," he said, giving the water to her. She muttered a thank you before taking a drink. "Ok, but seriously where are your parents?"

"They should be at home," Edmund calmly said, "I don't know if they went anywhere."

"Don't you know their phone numbers?" Edmund and Maisie shook their heads. The man groaned. "Ok where did you come from?"

"We came through the woods, we're on a quest to find our uncle!" Edmund reminded. The man laughed a bit. "When I was a kid, I couldn't even go outside, I was bed-bound, sick with some unknown illness. My brother Victor would always tell me about his 'adventures' outside." Edmund's eyes widened. "Wait your brother's name is Victor? What's your name?!"

"Oh dang I forgot to even introduce myself," he laughed a bit, "I'm Ernest, Ernest Frankenstein."

#mystic mysfits #MIA mysfits #mm edmund jekyll #mm edith jekyll #mm maisie hyde #mm robin

[shiftingformikewheeler]

her in my eyes . a stranger things series .

all credits go to @shiftingformikewheeler . do not copy or translate my work .

enjoy :)

eleven/jane hopper

this girl would do anything for you . even if it mean dying for you , she'd be up for a challenge . before she met you , she was so focused on her powers and her life now that she was free from the lab . now , all that's on her mind is you . the way you look when your talking to others . the way you walk down the corridors singing , like nobody's watching you . eleven wished she had your bravery , your charisma and your beauty . but it wasn't served to you on a sliver platter . your beauty cost a lot of your childhood because of your mother's raging will to fit you into tight dresses so you looked skinny and thin . eleven could only wish for your beauty , but never quite grasp the thing that was forced into you . outside of school , you're no hero . you run away from every single bad thing that comes your way .

el didn't care if your bravery was fake or not , she just wanted to love you how she had always wanted to . she didn't want mike , didn't want max , but she wanted you .

you had watched her for sometime and realized she is not what she i made out to be . a freak . you occasionally catch her planting sunflower seeds in her flower beds , next to the rest of the flowers standing tall beside her . you noticed how gentle she was with the stems , touching them as if they were literal porcelain . you wished she would touch your delicate face that way , caressing your rosy cheeks as she would lean in for a kiss .

if only she knew how you saw her ,

in your eyes .

#stranger things #eleven hopper #her in my eyes #shiftingformikewheeler #jane el hopper #eleven #stranger things 4 #st4

[cosmicrobotart]

Brand new dnd OC baby!!! Lore beneath the cut!

Human appearance: green eyes | brown hair she wears in a bun | glasses | 5’5” tall

Warforged appearance: doll jointed limbs | dark blue hair with light blue hair underneath, long | black eyes with blue iris’ | 6’5” tall

Tali grew up in the Draconia Dynasty with her father, Sevrin Storm, who raised her on his own after the mysterious disappearance of her mother, Cara Storm. With only Tali left Sevrin devoted his life to trying to make the best of what they had which was modest. He was employed as one of the town guards.

Growing up, Tali would tinker and modify anything she could get her hands on. Her father noticed this and tried to get as many books on magic and the arcane for her that he could afford, which wasn’t much. Her search for knowledge and inventions caused her to be picked out as the weird one and she grew up with little to no friends.

Reaching her teenage years the Draconia Dynasty was looking for smart young individuals to join their ranks of scholars to help further their advancement of the arcane and technology. With his contacts in the guard Sevrin was able to get his daughter into the academy for her to study without making a dent in his gold.

Tali soared through the ranks of the academy in as little as 2 years she was hired on as a scholar for the military to research more ways to further their weapons. While she was able to get the resources she longed for as a child she felt like something was missing in her pursuit of knowledge. About 2 years passed and Tali was 16 when the Sunborn Empire had a spy infiltrate the ranks of the scholars and reach out to Tali offering her higher access to technology and arcane magic. Feeling that this is what she was searching for she agreed with the condition that her father could come with.

After moving swiftly to the Sunborn Empire Tali was introduced to the other scholars that she’d be working with on a team on a top secret project. To create humanoid weaponized constructs, warforged were the term they called them.

At the age of 20 the war began between the Sunborn empire and her home. With her father alongside her she had no further attachments to her homeland and continued to work for the Sunborn empire making more warforge for the war.

After ten years she had a breakthrough, she had created a Sentient warforged. This discovery skyrocketed her position to head scholar giving her even more access to libraries, archives and more knowledge. It was also around this time that Tali found herself feeling overly fatigued and eventually started coughing up blood. When she found out she had an incurable illness she started working on anything she could to prolong her life, keeping her illness a secret from her father and co-workers. Running herself ragged, she eventually found out how to copy consciousness into an empty warforge, a breakthrough she had been hoping for as her life was running out at the age of 39.

With no time to lose she created a warforge of her own design and copied her consciousness into it, keeping it dormant until she passed. It was around this time that she finally told her father the truth about everything. He was in tears learning she would die soon but hopeful of her inventions knowing how intelligent she was he knew if anyone could pull this off it would be her. At 40 Tali looked deathly skinny and needed a wheelchair to move around, she could no longer hide it she was on death’s door and the Sunborn empire demanded answers. She was taken before the council who demanded she reveal all that she was hiding. Revealing that she was dying and that she created a warforge to replace her with her consciousness inside of it, the council was shocked by the technological advancements she made in such a short time. The council in the end decided to keep her discovery a secret and would allow her to work with them as the warforge in secret in the future.

#warforged #artificer #tali storm #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #dungeons & dragons #robot