#its my everything but also my worst enemy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tteokdoroki · 1 year

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nagi has beef with any of your pets cuz why do they get to lay around all day but he doesn’t :(

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— feline foe + seishiro nagi.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — strangers to enemies except it’s nagi and your pet cat.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, fluff, semi-smutty, mentions of sex, suggestive towards the end, dry humping, owning a cat lol, the cat walks in on you, established relationship, pro player!nagi, fem!reader - not beta read !

⭑ words — 2K.

⭑ notes — thank u lambie for sending me this ! i thought it was too cute an idea not to write! also i queued this to post on nagi’s bday so happy bday to my bf <3!! enjoy! - m.list ✩

it might sound vain, but nagi was sure that before it arrived, he was the centre of your universe.

he had all of your attention, always. you went out of your way to bring him lunches at the stadium during practices and helped him drink water or energy drinks on the pitch at his games because you liked to believe that it would bring him good luck and he let you. his teammates heave with jealousy each and every time.

when your days were done, you’d let nagi settle his head in your lap while you brush back his hair and scratch at his scalp — letting him game to his heart's content in your company. nagi might have been pampered too and much to the point where he expected to have all of your attention… so he doesn’t quite understand why all of it shifts to a brand new presence in your lives.

your cat.

miruku. milk.

it’s a ridiculous name for an animal, nagi thinks, it’s a pest. annoying. but he couldn’t say no to you when you’d brought the stray cream-coloured kitty home, soaked in rain from where you’d chased it around his apartment complex trying to bring it inside. if he said no to you, that would’ve been another issue in itself — and nagi hated when you fought. it was bothersome having you play silent treatment.

so you keep it, the kitten, and everything changes for seishiro nagi. for the worst.

miruku can do everything nagi isn’t allowed to nd gets away with it as well. he raids the fridge if you leave it open, doesn’t have to pay to replenish it because of course cats don’t have income. he wakes you up at ungodly hours for playtime which usually consists of you sitting on the edge of the bed and kicking around a ball of yarn for the kitty to play with. it’s irritating for nagi, having your warmth stolen away from him and pulling him out of the depths of slumber by your lack of presence— all because the stupid cat wants to play ball and you just can’t seem to say no to it.

the feline that’s suspiciously close to looking like your boyfriend if he were to be an animal is also allowed to sleep in. miruku naps where he pleases, in the linen closet, the corner of the kitchen where the water pipes run hot, on top of the drier and especially by the front door where he trips up nagi on the way in from practices. it’s like the cat is purposely trying to make the pro-player’s life even more difficult than it’s meant to be and you find it’s every single movement adorable.

the worst place miruku could possibly nap is seishiro’s favourite spot— on your chest. nuzzled against your boobs on a warm sunday afternoon where your boyfriend should be, where your boyfriend should be making you giggle by sucking hickies into your neck while he thumbs at the skin underneath your breasts. he should be suckling on the sweet expanse of your skin lazily, working you up just enough to offer yourself up to appease seishiro’s insatiable appetite.

and its so sick that he can’t because of your pampered little pet. you’d just brush him off and tell him ‘you’ll get your turn later, sei,’ which makes nagi hate that stupid fucking cat even more than anything.

you don’t ever let seishiro sleep in these days, ripping the blankets from his tall frame every morning with a slice of toast hanging from between your pretty lips as you say. “get up sei, wake up for me, baby.” you coo sweetly, briefly letting go of your breakfast to kiss his forehead before you rush out of the door. “i won’t be happy if isagi or reo have to wake you up for practice. ‘kay?”

“mmm…lil’ longer. please angel.” he groans but you weave your fingers through his snow white locks to scratch at his scalp before you tug on them slightly.

“up. seishiro nagi. i’ll see you later!” the tone you use is warning, and prompts nagi to shift int he sheets to get out of bed.

he huffs, stretching his limbs a little too similarly to your kitty companion before the realisation hits— miruku is laying in your spot, comfy and cosy. sleeping. and it only pisses him off more. that should be him.

“you’re a pain.” seishiro narrows his eyes at the snoozing feline, scratching it under the chin and the twitch of miruku’s ears tells him that he’s been acknowledged as a rival.

so be it.

“how come this cat gets away with everythin’ ‘nd i don’t?”

nagi whines into your neck, watching with darkened and narrowed eyes as his feline opponent hops up onto the couch to join you both in your late night cuddle session. miruku makes his presence known, pushing his head under your chin affectionately and clawing at the fluffy blanket draped over you and your boyfriend. you obviously find it adorable, your hands slipping from seishiro’s soft white hair to tickle just behind your pet’s ear— completely discarding the man tucked into your side.

“what are you talking about, sei?” you mumble absentmindedly — missing the way the striker squirms in his seat and squeezes you close by the waist, as if to pull you away from the offending kitty.

seishiro grumbles out a response. “he gets to sleep in, but when i do it, it’s a bother. same for when he gets in the fridge too, and when i nap on top of you—“

“stop complaining about him, sei. miruku is just a baby!” you scold your boyfriend, hugging your kitten to your chest, cooing down at him as if he really is a baby. nagi seethes from beside you, that should be him in your arms and not some cat-like freeloader from the streets. miruku blinks up at the white-haired pro player slowly, his mouth opening in a petty meow that almost makes nagi hiss back in response.

“i’m supposed to be your baby.”

“and you are! but you’re just a little more self-sufficient than my precious lil’ kitty— he needs me to take care of him.”

“why don’t you just take care of me? cats are s’pposed to be independent,” seishiro nuzzles into your neck, his lips still pouty against your skin and you’d be a liar to say you weren’t overwhelmed with affection for your two boys. “‘n looking after the two of us must be a drag…”

rolling your eyes, you turn your head to capture nagi in a surprise chaste kiss just to sate him— brushing your lips over his delicately. “i do take care of you, seishiro. some might say you’re a little spoilt with how much i do,” smiling into the kiss, you scratch your nails through his scalp in the way that he likes, a lot similar to your feline friend before jumping up from the couch with a clap of your hands. “now which one of my boys is hungry?”

miruku is promptly shooed to the floor beside a frustrated nagi left without your warmth. the pair share a brief moment of eye contact as your boyfriend runs a hand over his face in annoyance.

“i hate you.”

“meow.”

the final straw for nagi is the night your cat makes it into the bedroom while you’re having sex.

he’s pent up, training has been more intensive than usual and all he wants to do is come home and lose himself in you. you let him, falling into the sheets with seishiro nagi, your hands lost in his sea of perfectly soft white hair, your mouth on his, your legs wrapped around the small of his waist as he sinks into you for the first time in a long time. you share a moan, muffled by nagi’s tongue working it’s way down your throat and his entire body weight thrown over you.

somehow he manages to tear through your clothes, tongue hungrily lapping over your pert nipples while you tug his aching cock free from the confines of his shorts. tears sting at your waterline as nagi presses into your cunt without much prep. he’s so big, you feel as though he might already be kissing your cervix without even moving and you tug hard on his hair at the feeling of nagi twitching within your walls.

“s-sei, god. fill me up s’good—!”

he cuts you off with a throaty moan, eyes rolling back as he gives an experimental thrust. “s’no fair…s’pretty. so tight around me, fuck, angel…”

the moment is perfect, he’s dizzy with love and desire and all caught up in the heat it all… that is until your stupid fucking cat starts screaming bloody murder from outside your locked door.

“leave it,” seishiro grunts, pawing at your sides and languidly rolling his hips into yours. “s’probably nothin’, angel.”

you gasp and nod, delirious with ecstasy and pull him closer but miruku seems to whine again— scratching pathetically at the door. “sei, what if—?”

“he’s fine, jus’ focus on me, pretty thing.” and for the most part you try, you let nagi have his way with you— let him pin you to the bed and make you see galaxies and you’re both about to burst when he swears to the fucking stars he feels that cat’s paw between his balls.

he doesn’t remember what happens next, just that he sees red or turns it and you are equally as embarrassed— shuffling out of the room to deal with your pesky cat, draped in one of sei’s spare hoodies.

that’s when nagi decides he’s had enough.

his final plan isn’t to get rid of miruku but instead to steal your attention away from the dumb animal.

nagi puts a little more effort into cleaning up himself and the house for you once he gets back from practice at blue lock ( after multiple face times to barou and isagi, reo and others ). he stops by a flower shop and puts together an arrangement that he thinks you’ll like because the colours remind him so much of you.

when you come home, your eyes light up at the bouquet on your sparkling countertops and the sight of your boyfriend lounging around in your kitchen on his phone. “baby, did you get these for me?” you swoon.

“yeah. on the way back from practice i went to that flower shop you always talk about.”

“sei, that’s not even on the way home,” you smile and his heart flutters in his chest. “you didn’t have to go out of your way for me.”

nagi bristles with happiness as you make your way into his arms of your own accord and hide your face in his toned chest. “i’d do anything for you, angel,” he mumbled into your hairline and uses a finger to tilt your head up for a gentle kiss, quickly distracting you from miruku who’s jumped up onto the counter. “missed you, s’much.” he knows exactly what he’s doing when he presses his cock between your thighs, dropping his lips to your neck wetly.

“m-missed you too, sei but…gotta feed the cat…”

your kitten purrs at your side but seishiro rolls you over, nailing your hips down to the countertops and grinds into you feverishly. his plan is working.

“no buts, need you. god… s’not fair bein’ away from you f’so long. baby…fuck.” he’s whiny and needy, grabbing handfuls of your ass to slide you back and forth on his growing erection so that you become putty in his hands. you’re so lightheaded that you don’t even hear your cat meowing for your attention— clinging onto nagi’s broad shoulders for dear life. “unless you want me to stop?”

you blink up at your boyfriend, teary eyed and ravenous— for once not reaching out instinctively to pet miruku but instead reaching up to tug on seishiro’s soft snowball locks and bring him down to your height. “i don’t want you to stop, seishiro,” you growl, your voice dipping into sensual and sultry territory. “i want you to fuck me.”

“can do, angel.” he coos, letting you drag him by the hand towards your shared bedroom.

nagi throws a smug look over his shoulder at your unhappy cat, grinning from ear to ear as miruku hisses at him in defeat.

nagi: 1 - miruku: 0

#blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #nagi x reader #nagi x you #nagi smut #bllk x you #nagi fluff #nagi imagines #seishiro nagi x reader #seishiro nagi x you #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro x you #nagi seishiro fluff #nagi seishiro smut #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki

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neteyamsilly · 1 year

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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 4

summary ;; A father protects, that's what gives him meaning. Jake Sully has failed. PART 3 | PART 5 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; PLEASE READ AUTHOR NOTES. I explicitly said in the previous chapter I would NO LONGER BE TAKING TAG REQUESTS. You're just going to have to check my profile every now and then. I also will not be re-tagging the peeps I did in the last chapter’s replies, it’s just a lot 😭 I'm sorry for the inconvenience and thank you for your understanding! Now I present you, the long awaited angst and groveling of Jake. Enjoy! Please excuse my mistakes if you see any. Thank you so much for the lovely comments and support, I hope the angst hits the way you wanted it / was expecting HHHHH

It’ll shine better, Jake mused to himself, rotating the lumpy amber around in his fingers to better reflect the sunlight streaming in thin rays from the hands of the dense flora above, once I dip this in that polish oil. It’s not entirely unsalvageable.

At least he hadn’t scraped too much in attempts to give it a rounder shape, the bug at its core you were gushing about to the point of waking him up at zero dark thirty was still intact. He had been summoned from his dreams to look at a cool rock.

Jake couldn’t not gift it to you as something to be permanently worn after that.

The problem? He was ass at this. Always had been. No drop of craftsmanship in his bloodstream at all when the Na’vi were particularly fond of their ornaments and accessories, making it themselves, in fact.

Songcords were put together from beads, bones and stones, virtuosity was a must intrinsically woven into everyday life, methodized and irreplaceable since it wasn’t as if mass production could ever be a thing in Pandora. Everything was handmade.

Jake’s worst enemy beadwork was in their clothing, for example, even in braids — his maladroit at it may or may not be why he wore his hair in plain dreads now.

He wasn’t an artist or a creator, his hands were more comfortable being fit around a gun or a knife than slipping effortlessly in the rhythm of weaving or the act of making. All his end results were dreadful enough to be bullied relentlessly by his kids — except for you, that is. You absolutely loved them for reasons your mother or none of your siblings could understand.

Jake’s blundering conscience would melt at the sight of your eyes shining and the biggest smile almost splitting your head in half as if he had just handed you the world every single time he gifted you the newest of his clunky handiwork. He didn’t know why that made you the happiest. You’d been that way ever since you saw him carving and personally adding a bead to his songcord about how he got his firstborn daughter to utter her first word: dada.

It was important to him, so, down it had gone into Jake’s life story; putting official significance to the moment he never wanted to forget in the same thread that carried the story of him becoming Toruk Makto, just beside Neteyam’s first word, which was also dadada. (Neytiri had Lo’ak’s mam, and Kiri’s perfectly articulated mommy.)

Ever since that day, you had made grabby hands at the bead all the time when he picked you up, teethed at it like a puppy trying to grab a toy, tried to rip it off to make it yours — anything, until Neytiri made you one, but no, you wanted it from dada.

So dada started making you little trinkets.

He didn’t know if it was a good or a bad thing you never grew out of receiving gifts from your dad he himself cringed at. Jake wasn’t one to complain, not when someone in this life would feel such enough joy to purify thousands of blighted souls upon receiving his ugly personal work. It made him happy, stroked his ego to high heavens that his sweetheart was doting on dada to see the imperfect as the most fascinating.

That’s why he had taken on the daunting task of making a bead for you out of the amber you’d fixated on, rasp in one hand, sitting on a thick log that cut into the little stream he and his family were spending leisurely time that day, one leg pulled to himself and one feet in the water up to his ankle. Even though he had half an ear on his four children playing around in the shallow water of the creek, all the screams and squeals of joy felt weak compared to the contained huff of amusement that escaped from his mate who had come up to Jake while he was way too engrossed in his task.

His eyes shifted to Neytiri, watching her hop on to the log in one agile move. “Don’t laugh.”

“I am not laughing,” Neytiri said, crouching to sit, her mouth twitched upwards as she looked at the amber in his hand.

“I have eyes, Neytiri, I literally see you laughing.” His face used to burn at her openly teasing about beadmaking, but his oldest daughter’s attentions had restored his bruised confidence over the years. The slander wasn’t taken lightly these days as Jake had proudly relabeled the odd shapes of his work as a creative choice. “Right to my face.”

“You’re mistaken.”

Jake made his jaw drop, overacting his bafflement. “Wow, gaslighting? Really?”

Neytiri hit his arm lightly. In her terms, it was light, at least. “I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s something you shouldn’t do to your mate.” He turned his back to her, giving a look over his shoulder. “You’re abusing me. I’m being abused.”

“Baby.”

“No amount of pet names are gonna fix my broken heart.”

“No. You are a baby. I’m insulting you.” Neytiri hadn’t even laughed, but the uplifted timbre of that sentence sure did make Jake snicker in disbelief. “If you can’t take it, maybe you should leave beading to me.”

“I would say they are fashionably off,” he defended. You carried them with delight, so why shouldn’t Jake take more pride in his work? “And you said practice makes perfect years ago, I remember the exact words—”

“Years ago. You still haven’t gotten any better at it.” Neytiri was his biggest supporter and criticizer at the same time. “And you became a part of the clan back in the day in three months Jake. Never a more unbelievable thing to me than this.”

“I’m trying alright?” He turned back to the bead, or, vaguely bead-shaped amber, if technical terms were involved. It still had a whole adventure to embark on until it could receive the noble title of a bead. “She likes what I make, at least.”

“It’s because she’s your daughter and anything you do is out of this world. Beauty in the most unlikely places. A child’s love is pure that way.” The unexpected hypnotism of poetry in that sentence alone pulled Jake’s gaze to Neytiri’s, and for a moment, he could physically feel his heart within his ribcage being squeezed, tethering on painful, but with a joyful tinge. “She doesn’t have standards yet.”

Well, that hurt. “Damn.”

“Damm!” A pair of small and branch-thin arms wrapped around his neck from behind, and something, or rather, someone, latched onto his back. “Rahh!”

Jake should have been suspicious of how silent it had gotten halfway into his talk with Neytiri. Turns out, you had swam underneath the log to get out of his line of sight, climbing with the stealth of a bug to come up undetected.

Well, mark Jake down as impressed, you weren’t able to do that without being spotted until today, this was another wonderful milestone for you — you had learned impressively, taking advantage of his distraction, avoiding making noise and using water to your advantage. Neytiri must have given you some pointers.

And now he was wondering if his mate was in on this all along, purposefully disturbing his peace so their kids could see an opening to pounce on him.

“Oof!” Your hold on him was something he could break out of any minute with how adorably strong you were exerting yourself to make it, but he wanted to play along more than anything. Jake was acting panicked, swinging his body left and right from the waist, but really, it was just a light warm-up exercise with the easiest deadlift possible. “I’m being ambushed!”

“I got you now, Toruk Makto!” You wrapped your legs around his torso, and he felt like this was just a piggyback ride with extra steps. “Watch this, mom!”

Oh, it’s on.

Discreetly handing Neytiri the amber, Jake stood up, bringing you up with him and fighting a smile at your clipped squeak as the height became too much too quick, causing you to cling onto him stronger. He reached behind, and within seconds, he had you in his hands, holding you from the armpits and dangling you above the stream, your kicking legs beating the air, and he cackled like a villain threatening to fling the hero from atop of a skyscraper.

“You got me? Please.” He loosened his grip the slightest amount to give you the illusion he would let go, and you stopped struggling to scream, catching his forearms. “A measly thing like you? Conquering me? I’ll show you why I’m the king of the skies! Here I come!”

Making sure you wouldn’t get hurt, Jake threw you into the water as gently as possible, but made the angle entertaining enough so you would go flying. He wasn’t sure who’d screeched the highest, your three siblings who had you spearheading this little operation with full trust in your capabilities, or you reacting like you were falling down from an ikran midair. Either way, he was enjoying bullying his kid a bit too much.

Emerging from the stream and shaking the water off too akin to a wet dog, your first action was to shield your siblings, open arms and whole body and all. “Nete, run! Protect Lovak and Kiri, I’ll save you!”

Jake’s evil smile looming on his kids wavered at that.

You had problems with some letters even at the big age of eight, two vowels next to each other in one word was one of them, along with the confusion of “f” and “b”, and sometimes “p” — it made for hilarious misunderstandings Jake had to fight to be a parent about instead of busting a lung from laughing.

One of the many unforgettable events was deemed “The Fish Incident” between Jake, Max and Norm. He had been recording Neteyam’s first catch on his own to add it to the cute memory pile he and his mate would watch in the future after all their children eventually moved out to pursue their paths. You happened to be present that time, watching intently as your big brother shot a particularly giant yellow fish, eagerly jumping down to the pond to get it and showing it to the camera with a shy, yet proud grin on his face.

“Good job, boy!” Jake had cheered. “Say I got that fish!”

Out of the camera’s frame and making little jumps on your toes, you’d blithely yelled. “Yeah, you got that bish!”

The rest of the footage was shaky and out of focus, the microphone hadn’t picked up any sound but Jake’s uncontrollable laughter, kicked off by an exploding snort of shock.

You and Neteyam had no idea why, but after he’d stopped recording with tears streaming down his face, wheezing because he couldn’t stop laughing, you’d joined to laugh and play with him regardless, mirroring his excitement.

Later though, Jake had to actively make it so you wouldn’t have to say the words kitchen and pitch (and obviously, fish) out loud, at least, in front of Neytiri. He didn’t want to abstain from having a little fun himself, so under no circumstance was she allowed to find out and correct you. And he had it going strong for a while until it slipped when he was talking about a scientist friend over at Hell’s Gate called Richard and you repeated it as “Bitchard”. The word had somehow weaseled into your English lexicon as well, and Neytiri wasn’t illiterate enough to be oblivious to what you’d merrily blurted.

Good old days. Jake sometimes missed hearing you curse innocently. Neytiri had to take that source of joy away from him. Discouragement and warnings would be given to his kids if they knowingly cussed, of course, Kiri calling Lo’ak penis face was something he’d immediately shot down, but this was harmless, he thought. He could have let you be blissfully unaware until the day you learned the meaning of the words, or gain consciousness of the articulation errors as you grew up and naturally fix it yourself. It was only a natural part of a child’s growth.

But he had other entertainment. The obligatory consonant you had to sometimes add to two different neighboring vowels if it was too difficult for you to pronounce, for example. Your little brother was a victim to this. Thankfully, Lo’ak wasn’t bothered to be called Lovak by his older sister, somehow thinking of it as a nickname, but Jake could bet his ass the boy would use this as infinite ammo against you once both of you were older. He would of course forget how you always protected him in play fighting like right now, of course, maybe you would remember enough to accuse him of ungratefulness, and perhaps Lo’ak would declare he didn’t recall anything such as that.

How bittersweet of a thing it was to drift into imaginations of how his kids would be like when they grew up. Like the stinging ache Jake always got when he was confronted with the sadness of losing his children forever one day — the need to put every minute with them in a bottle, and the feeling of time slipping through his fingers, the same old melancholy each time: when it first dawned on Jake that you’d successfully sneaked up on him just now, when Neteyam had captured his first fish all on his own without assistance, when Lo’ak showed him the knife he had successfully carved by himself to get his approval, and when Kiri had tended to a scratch wound of his better than her grandmother did with precocious wisdom on her face.

Jake was making every moment count. Just like this one.

“Nobody is safe from me, I’ll huff and I’ll puff and blow your house in!” He jumped down from the log with the grace and intimidation of a leopard who had been disturbed while eating up the tree he’d dragged his meal on, splashing water everywhere. “What will you do, o’ mighty hunter?”

You loved being called mighty hunter by him, he saw the sparkle in your eyes.

“Noooo!” Kiri cried, pulling on both Lo’ak and Neteyam’s arms huddled behind you. “He’ll get us!”

Your thought process, completely spooked by Jake, was painfully visible. But surprisingly, you yelled, “Scatter!” with the experience of a rave addict who would take a forty and smash it on the ground as the police closed in on the party grounds. And his kids ran in different directions, like a group of cockroaches when someone approached them, they all ran in different directions.

Sloshing water all around to make it more terrifying, he got Kiri first, hauled her right over his shoulder when she made for Neytiri, thinking her mother could protect her, but no. Jake was inevitable. Lo’ak gave him a weak challenge trying to step around him, getting Jake to confuse his steps as if they were playing basketball, but this was his dad he was facing and not Spider, these tricks didn’t work on veterans, so now he was flush to Jake’s side, tail facing forward, carried like some strapless bag, it didn’t even put any strain on the man’s bicep. Neteyam was the last, hiding beneath the water level and holding his breath, but the little nose peeking out for air gave him away, and Jake had him up the other shoulder in seconds, the boy didn’t have enough time to run away even though he’d spied from underwater that Jake was coming for him.

Three out of four. That left only his eldest daughter.

You were nowhere to be seen. The delighted and struggling giggle-cries of the three kids in his arms and shoulders didn’t help at all to Jake taking his surroundings in with a keen ear, all senses attuned to spotting the stray.

A rustle from above.

“Attack him!”

He didn’t have enough time to see just which branch of the trees cocooning the creek you had climbed on before all three in his arms turned on him, flailing around together in unison to get Jake to fall down and kneel, and it surprisingly worked, he couldn’t even recover between the blink of a time between them getting off the way and you jumping down on him. The height at which you did that knocked all air off his ribcage for a second as he tried to retain balance, and you took that chance to sit on his shoulders, your legs dangling from each one, grabbing onto two dreads on his head as if they were the tails of Toruk he once had held onto like leashes.

Jake had to give this one to you, damn. When had you become a student of the art of strategizing?

But, defeat was defeat. He had to play his part. “This can’t be!” He opened his arms, making it seem cartoonishly like he had been incapacitated. “I’ve been… bested?”

“That’s right!” The cockiness was dripping from you as you pulled on his dreads. “I’m Toruk Makto Makto now. The first of my name!”

Your siblings started cheering battle cries, repeating the word.

Don’t laugh, he ordered himself. Toruk Makto Makto, what a title, oh Jesus Christ.

“Alright, alright, you got me, mighty hunter.”

“So I win?”

“Yes, you win.”

He was going to have two less dreads on his head if you kept pulling on them like this. “Hell yeah!”

After hearing the declaration, his other children also joined in on the ‘Hell yeah!’ train. Jake supposed he could let this slide for now, you guys were too happy, he wouldn’t sully it.

“You’re gonna rip my hair off, get down now.” You understood play time was over from his tone, and obeyed, hopping down his shoulders when he lowered you into the water, immediately attempting to rush to your siblings’ side to be celebrated, but Jake had something else in mind. “C’mere for a sec.”

He pulled you to the edge of the stream where water met grassy land, dipping his hand into the wet soil under your confused gaze and bringing his fingers up to trace a pattern on your face.

The reaction was instantaneous. You pulled back. “Ew, mud!”

“Hold on,” he gently warned, or rather, encouraged.

You let him continue whatever he was doing then, albeit not losing the laughable concern along the way. “What’s this?”

“Well, you’ve tamed Toruk Makto before an ikran. My mighty hunter should be painted accordingly, no?”

He pointed down and you followed it with your eyes. Seeing your reflection and the ‘V’ shape with a dot on your face in the water, you stopped yourself from touching it with the impulse control that kicked in at the last second, looking up at Jake, jumping up and down, unable to contain the energy, knowing exactly what he did just now. He’d recognized you as a prospective hunter candidate. “Thank you, dad!”

Jake could swear his insides liquidized at that. “Always, sweetheart.”

“Will you paint me like this when I finally get an ikran, too?”

“Of course I will.” He actually wanted to cup your cheeks and plant a little kiss at the adorable flat of your nose but the mud would be ruined, so he pet your braids instead. “As will your mother. It’s what family does.”

At the time, Jake didn’t have the slightest inkling that the paint would end up being your own blood.

Neytiri’s bloody hands — your blood, his child, his child, his baby Jake’s entire day would stop at seeing one tear on her face — had been stroking your face, trying to hold on to you anywhere she could to soothe your flaming pain as you were squirming like a dying animal fighting for the next breath. His heart beating right behind his eyes in a massive pulsating headache, Jake was too desperate fighting his swelling panic with each noise that ripped from you to notice they had left the vague pattern of Iknimaya paint pattern in their wake.

She did.

And her following anguished, gasping shudder as her shaking hands hovered above your contorted face, tracing the air along the lines the blood had left on your face ended up hitting him right in the gut. He couldn’t dwell on it. He couldn’t let this random twisted sign sweep him into the roaring waterfall of torment, your life was on the line.

Jake didn’t have any coherent memory of running back to the mouth of the cave from the family tent. One moment, he was back with his brain fried from thinking about Quaritch in the aftermath of an hour that had just taken twenty years from his lifespan, avoiding the inquisitive silence of his kids who hadn’t gone back to bed yet; and the other, Neytiri was screaming in the distance with terror worse than the anguish he’d heard her go through upon losing her father and her home. Jake had all but flown there, mind blank in swirling, spasming panic.

Neytiri had told him he had a strong heart the first time they’d met. No fear. Even though Jake was aware he was being disliked strongly, this quality of his she had remarked on, honest to her soul.

But she was wrong.

That fearless fortress heart of his had begun to crumble the moment he learned of Neteyam’s existence. And with each and every new addition to their family, Jake had been rehabilitated on what fear truly was, like a baby learning a language.

Losing. It was all about losing.

He would wake up from terrorizing, choking nightmares with the sensation of his family being violently taken away from him when his children were in his arms, sleeping peacefully all along. He couldn’t stop it. It had spiraled out of control after the sky people came back, turning him into a paranoid, angry man who was ruled by fear. He worried for the safety of his family every day, obsessed over it — beneath the impenetrable iron mask of a leader his whole clan was leaning on, Jake was nothing more than a weak, emotionally crippled father who would lose it the more his children grew up to take reckless actions he made worse by the inability to govern his fear-curbed anger. He called it tough love.

That tough love had resulted in this. Loss. Loss. Loss he had tried his damnedest to prevent. It was blood slipping through his fingers from a wound he had no way of stitching back together.

The more he pushed to block the bullet entrance point, the more you fought Jake, making feral yowls that weakened into animalistic whimpers and throaty whines that all but ripped his heart off muscle by muscle, your hits and scratches didn’t faze him, but the noises. Eywa, the noises. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know you’re in pain, I know, I know, I’ll make it go away, please hold on, c’mon.” The droplets of sweat that had formed in the matter of seconds rolled down his face. You had begun to hyperventilate from the accelerating pain because of his efforts. “C’mon sweetheart. Breathe for me, breathe for dad, okay? You gotta breathe. Breathe!”

You were unhearing, lost in the overwhelming, blinding, deafening agony he couldn’t anchor or shield you from. The grunt of desperation that escaped his sore throat rattled his carbon fiber infused bones.

Jake didn’t have time to think. His reason had flown out the mountains to be able to force one single word to form in his mindscape. He just knew he had to stop the bleeding, propelled by concentrated instinct. You were struggling too much for him to have a solid hold on you. Everything, too slippery. Too much blood. Too fucking much. The sickening smell of iron bit at his senses.

(Was it the liver? The spleen? Pancreas? One of the major arteries? But Na’vi biology wasn’t the same as humans. Fuck.)

Then, you were being restrained by a third party, Neytiri was too devastated to make that reasonable decision, and in his peripheral vision, he saw it was Neteyam who had sat down on your legs, restricting your movements with incredible strength. Jake couldn’t even bark at him to go away with how much Neteyam looked in control, a rock he and Neytiri both could draw strength from. Behind him, Lo’ak was a stone statue just standing there, frozen, his eyes not leaving your bloody abdomen.

When you let out a yelp his heart could no longer stand, he yelled, “Bring a stretcher!” to nobody in particular, out of his goddamn mind. Lo’ak jumped at it, coming back to his senses, hesitating what to do for a second before he was off to god knows where. He had to take you to Norm’s, and then a doctor—

A tiny, trembling voice he couldn’t recognize as Neteyam’s reached his ears. “Dad…”

The boy was looking at you, blown eyes shining with unshed tears, upper set of teeth sinking in his shaky bottom lip.

You had gone slack in his arms.

He hadn’t even seen the moment, didn’t stop putting pressure on the wound as the dread assaulted his body. And a biting shiver went down his spine before Jake also looked down on his eldest daughter. Your eyes weren’t closed all the way, halted gaze focused on something to the side, one tear rolling down your temple.

“Don’t do this to me.” Jake couldn’t breathe as he shook his head, he was about to lose it, about to tumble down the edge he could never climb his way up from. In denial, he didn’t lift his hands, losing all strength in his upper body and gradually collapsing forward as his forehead found yours. “Don’t do this to me, sweetheart, not like this. Please, not like this.”

The last thing you were looking at was the ikran you’d gotten.

Jake didn’t feel that very ikran making its way to their side, flapping its wings, didn’t feel anything to react when a snoot reached down and ever-so-gently nudged you, like you were asleep and it was given the duty to wake you up in the morning that day.

Your ikran nudged you once. Twice. Thrice. Each push was harsher than the other.

You didn’t wake up. Your eyes didn’t get their light back.

A paralyzing numbness took over Jake’s body, all his neuron ends stunted. The moon stopped spinning, time stopped moving, he ceased existing, all at the same time.

A piercing ringing stabbed his ears, took away his hearing. He didn’t hear Neytiri scream louder than the ikran, you were ripped from his arms, and he couldn’t move to do anything about it, just staring into the distance, at nothing, bloodied palms facing upwards in his lap.

It was Neteyam who tried to stop his wailing mother from going mad with grief, trying to get her to set down your body from her crushing embrace even though he couldn’t take his misty eyes off your body. It was Lo’ak, frantic in his run even though his panic-frozen face gave away nothing, who had rushed back with Mo’at and Kiri. It was Tuk who had thrown herself into his arms for a hug Jake wasn’t in his body to reciprocate, his seven year old child, in tears, comforting him when Jake, as the adult and the father, should have had his shit together and be the provider of comfort.

Instead, all he could feel was the blood on his hands, one small part in his mind making him focus on that one amber with a bug inside he’d carved for you, years ago, now in your hair.

The tears didn’t come. His world was shattering all around him, but not one tear made it to the surface.

Someone was talking to him, but Jake wasn’t there, experiencing the moment behind a thick veil of silencing glass.

“Open her mouth, Jakesuli.”

He looked at the source of the muffled sound breaching the ringing in his ears, painfully empty and unfeeling. It was Mo’at. In her hand, a woodsprite gently floated in the air and landed before it repeated the motion again. It was as if his brains had been emptied from his skull. He didn’t understand. He didn’t see. Tuk was clinging to him, Neytiri doubled down in waves of cries in Neteyam’s arms. Jake wasn’t there.

“Open her mouth so I can keep her spirit here longer,” Mo’at said. “Do it now. We do not have much time.”

And Jake could breathe again, his soul slinged back into his body, feeling returning to the tips of his fingers, kicking into action.

He cradled your body from the cold ground you were lying on, bringing his shaky hand to your tightly shut jaw. Your body couldn’t have been experiencing rigor mortis, so you must have been clenching your teeth to the point of your jaw locking to fight the pain, and he was nearly blinded from the sheer strength with which he had to hold back from hugging you. But he eventually opened your jaw with a sickening pop that made him visibly grimace, and Mo’at guided the woodsprite to slip inside the cavity of your mouth.

The bioluminescent dots on your body began to flicker the moment your mouth was closed again. Jake gave a shuddering breath at the sign of life, hands unsure if he should continue to cover the wound again.

“Eywa has allowed her to remain. For a while.”

“Oh Great Mother, thank you!” Neytiri took one of your hands, pressing it against her cheek and kissing it over and over again. “Thank you, thank you.”

“Bring her to my tent,” the Tsahik simply stated, and Jake didn’t even stop to consider how he should be taking you to the science guys, how they were probably going to say you needed a blood transfusion and surgery right after they got the necessary tests such as MRI and blood analysis out of the way. Kiri, sniffling weakly, took the crying Tuk away so Jake could carry you. He couldn’t comfort his girls the way he wanted to, couldn’t attend to Neytiri as their sons consoled her and got consoled in return in a tight hug together; he was on the move, heart about to beat out of his chest.

He took you in his arms and clutched your unconscious and ashen blue body tightly to his chest, your head lolling in the crook of his arm, arriving to Mo’at’s tent faster than she did — and oh, how small you were compared to him, how fragile and vulnerable. The attitude made you appear bigger than you actually were, and Jake was reminded how you were still a child from how light his daughter was, like a fleeting bird. He’d forgotten. It had been forever since he last held you like this that he couldn’t bear to lay you down on the mat. If only he could hide you away within his ribcage, away from the pain and the suffering, forever.

“Everything in this world is borrowed,” she told him, an incense was burned, salves were prepared, tools he had no idea on what they were used were brought out. Plants, herbs. Jake stood there, helpless. “Even this child, Eywa has lent to you. She is borrowed from the bosom of our Great Mother, entrusted to you. Entrusted.” Your freckles were still flickering, and Tsahik’s tone, clipped. “I will converse with her. Ask if she plans to call her daughter back home today.”

Ice washed over Jake. “No, you gotta heal her, Mo’at, I can't lose m—”

“Everything in this world is borrowed. Each breath. Each heartbeat. All children. All gifts from Eywa.” Her eyes bore into him. “I can only ask.”

Neytiri pounced on him as soon as he stumbled out of the tent, beaten and spent despite not having one scratch on his body, upon Kiri’s entrance to assist her grandmother in tending to you.

“Your fault!” He was violently pushed back, only able to take in the woman’s bloodied, wrathful face, tear tracks freshened with saltwater she couldn’t stop shedding. “This is your fault! I told you! I told you to fix this!”

Jake was aware other clan members were watching even if they weren’t out of their homes, he was Olo’eyktan, their leader, his pride would have taken this to their own tent had this been any other debate, but now, he couldn’t give a flying fuck. Bruising his back was the weight of a failed father instead of the ornamental piece of the clan leader, it was unbearable enough. She was right. There was nothing else to be said. His mate was right.

“Mother, please,” Neteyam was right beside them in a flash, holding Neytiri back and shielding his father from her. His sunken eyes found Lo’ak and Tuk crouching at the edge of the tent, huddled together, the youngest having the crying hiccups as her older brother had an arm around her, himself looking traumatized enough.

“Don’t, boy.” Jake put a hand on his stone-hard shoulder, moving him aside. Neteyam took one hard look at Neytiri half-circling his father in long strides, and decided it was best if he took care of his siblings instead even if he wasn’t told outright. He ushered Tuk and Lo’ak up and away, to the other side of the tent where they wouldn’t disturb their parents by staying in the field of vision.

Jake should have been the one to take control, but Neteyam had stepped up for it — he was a kid, too, eldest child or not. What the fuck am I doing?

In his tumultuous sorrow, every piece of the fortress Jake had put together was coming down, every decision re-evaluated, emotion overtaking what he once thought as logic. His fault. His fault. He had ruined his children, all of them. He had thought embracing the iron will of a war chief would allow him to be a strong father figure, but it had only alienated his family.

You had died in his arms.

Jake contained every storm in a box inside his body, Neytiri lived those storms, she was strong that way. He would take it. Her eyes were only seeing red at the moment, the grief and wrath of a wronged mother. “Yeah, it’s my fault,” he told her, something between a whisper and a sigh. His kids deserved to hear it. “I know.”

“She is dying because of you!” Jake couldn’t escape the truth by closing his eyes, but he did anyway, like an automatic body reflex against detecting something would be hitting him. He swallowed, his mouth was drier than a desert, no relief was found in the action. “My daughter! My child! Your child!” She pushed him again, hissing. Jake didn’t do anything to stop it. “All because you told her to go today—everything, everything… All because you didn’t reach out to her. She hid that.” A shiver shook her voice. “That… because of you. You! She thought you would be angry!”

Violent horror seized his heart, ears pinning back on his head, knuckles clenching so light blue they were almost white. “I would… I would never—how could I ever—?”

But it was in character, wasn’t it? Jake always getting angry over worry for his children. Going crazy because they could have gotten hurt. Fear grows into anger, worm eating away the bark of a tree into poisonous snake. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, chest rising and falling in big breaths, there was no air.

“She said you hated her. Over and over again, she said you hated her. Not to call you because you would hate her for it, Jake!”

Bitter guilt and glacial shock rose from his stomach, choking him, his eyes looking at anywhere but Neytiri’s blazing golden eyes, to his children who sat together seemingly away from them but blatantly listening, to the tent flames were barely illuminating the shadows inside. His legs were weak. All that he had been breaching behind a wall to prioritize your safety flooded rancid to his mind.

Jake got angry at you all the time that you’d expected it at your most vulnerable. That he would blame you, reprimand you for his enemy’s actions.

His memories were attacked by all sides. That you had gone off on your own for the Iknimaya everybody should have been there for, he should have painted your face personally for. That you have been hiding the bleeding out from the moment Jake had found you pinned down by the dead body of an avatar, from the moment you’d answered positively to the question of if you were hurt or not, with that rifle he’d thought you didn’t let go because of how the events had shaken you. He opened his mouth, a gaping fish, but no words came out, mute and voiceless.

Hate you? Hate you? Hate his own child he would burn the whole world for?

His child. Suffering in silence when her nature was anything but silent. Afraid of her father when she was the most fearless of his kids when facing him.

You thought you weren’t loved.

“What have you done to our children? What has this family become? What are we if our children are too afraid to come to us in their darkest hours?” Neytiri was snarling, both fury and grief battling inside her, teeth gnashing so hard they could sharpen a knife. “What child does not seek her parents when she is hurt?”

Unseeing, Jake couldn’t stand anymore, staggering towards a particularly large rock and sitting on it, he raised his hands to rub his face but stopped when he saw the blood.

All yours. All his daughter’s who he had failed. Who had died in his arms thinking she was hated because Jake was a shit excuse of a father you couldn’t trust to say you were hurt that you would take the risk of dying so he wouldn’t find out.

His daughter’s blood, on his hands.

He put his elbows to his legs, crossing his wrists to lean his forehead on, yet unable to hide his shaking hands even if he managed to hide his face. Jake couldn’t comprehend any of this, crushed beneath the skyful of burning hot shame and the guilt dwarfing him — tears he couldn’t seem to shed found life in his eyes at him trying to blink away the memory of you clinging to your ikran at the flight home. You had been suffering the whole time and all he could think about was Quaritch when he should have been thinking of you.

“What child would rather hide her injury than let her father know?” It shocked his spine like lightning, and Jake visibly flinched, fists clenching and unclenching. “Explain this to me!”

Shame. Shame. Shame. Jake was about to throw up, rocking back and forth.

He had nothing to say. Nothing could ever excuse this. He couldn’t wash away all your moments from this night, all a cursed film strip haunting his every breath accompanied by thorns that ripped apart his insides.

“If she lives,” Neytiri said, pointing a curled hand at him, slowly, scarily calm, but shaking with mastered rage. If she lives destroyed Jake. “We would be lucky if my mother doesn’t decide to perform Stxel’eveng as Tsahik!”

Jake’s head shot up at the word, his arms dropping altogether and meeting his mate’s tortured stare. As Olo’eyktan, he had to be taught the traditions and ceremonies to the point of talking in his sleep from overlearning — this one was a long lost one the clan hadn’t performed for a long time, as the Omatikayan were faithful and loyal to Eywa and her teachings.

Stxel’eveng was the shortened word for ‘Gifting of a Child’ — an adoption ceremony within Na’vi that didn’t even have the word ‘adopt’ in their vocabulary, simply because it was almost non-existent, most Na’vi didn’t even know the existence of such a tradition. If the parents were unable to care and provide for their child, mistreated on purpose or neglected them to the point of no return, they were to be publicly dishonored by the gifting of said child to another willing family. A knot would be formed between the three, one thread bound around the waist of the mother signifying the womb, one thread fastened to the queue of the father, and the final thread to the wrists of the child as if they were captive. The knot, then, would be severed by Tsahik to symbolize the dissolvement of the familial relations in Eywa’s eyes.

The biggest shame a Na’vi could bring upon their name.

“No,” Jake muttered, his mind going blank yet again. Fuck the shame. Damn his name. He couldn’t lose you. It’s a stone in his throat he can’t swallow, whales on his tongue he can’t speak to save himself.

“Pray to Eywa it doesn’t happen. Because if I was Tsahik, I would do it.” Neytiri turned away from him, pushing the heel of her hands on her damp eyes. “I cannot bear this shame, Jake. I can barely breathe.”

He quivered like a baby leaf caught in a storm, a couple more tears rolling down his cheeks. “Neytiri…”

“I lost my daughter today. She slipped from my fingers. I watched her die.” He lowered his head at her grief, vision swimming. “How am I a mother when I can't feel her pain? How am I worthy of being her mother when I saw my child’s pain and just sat there helpless? Why would the Great Mother ever want to send her back?” She just kept going, not having any mercy on Jake’s soul. “Where was I when she won against her ikran? Where was I when she had her first flight? Where was I to protect her from those demons?”

A father protects, that’s what gives him meaning.

Who was Jake Sully?

“Lo’ak, come back here!”

Both of them turned just in time to see their youngest son running away from the back of the tent they’d been hiding, Neteyam following a couple steps before he stopped to look back, probably at his sister.

“I’ll get him,” Jake said, soulless and absentminded. Neytiri didn’t respond, stalking back to Mo’at’s tent, just kneeling in front of the entrance, wrapping her hands and tail around her knees. Tuk turned the corner, scampering towards her and finding refuge in Neytiri immediately wrapping around her protectively.

Jake wasn’t allowed to comfort his mate.

But he could get to his children who needed it. Trust, Neytiri had said. Honesty.

Walking up to Neteyam, he put a warm hand behind his rigid back, and felt the taut muscles relax underneath his touch, another wave of shame hitting at the inability to recall just when he had last comforted his boy.

“Get Tuk. Go home. Rest.”

Neteyam turned to him, scandalized. “We will stay.”

“Neteyam—”

“Dad—sir, please. I can’t leave my sister.”

That sir was a splash of acid on his already weeping heart.

It dawned on Jake that Neteyam was the one witnessing your moment of death. Death. A surge of nausea shot up from his esophagus, and he didn’t stop himself from hooking an arm around the boy, careful of using his hands not to get blood on the eldest, pulling him into a much awaited embrace. He hadn’t allowed him to be a kid.

“It’s okay, Neteyam,” he croaked. “She’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

Neteyam’s arms didn’t wrap around him, unfamiliar to the gesture — crumbling Jake’s already broken heart into dust, but he did shiver, fighting the tremble. He simply said, “I pray so.”

He was still trying to hold it together — for everybody’s sake.

Jake felt the boy’s tears on his skin, and didn’t let him go when he tried to step back to wipe them, letting Neteyam cry silently as much as he wanted. He owed the boy that much, as his father. It was the least he could do.

Jake would stitch this family back together. He had to.

Washing the blood off his hands had taken a while. Jake wasn’t let off easy, cursed by the remaining line of bloodied dirt in his nails.

He found Lo’ak at where it all began. The mouth of the cave where your ikran was disturbing the other ones with restless chittering, reminding Jake of a wolf howling all night at the full moon.

His youngest son was transfixed by the blood staining the ground. Just standing there, looking at it. Jake couldn’t protect him from the sight. Not anymore. He himself could barely stomach it.

“Is sister going to be taken away?” was the first thing he asked Jake, not looking at him still.

Jake didn’t know if he meant death, or Stxel’eveng.

“I pray not,” he told Lo’ak, honest for once.

And like him, the boy wasn’t sentimental or emotional enough to bear his wounds to another, even to a family member, and fell silent. “It has Toruk’s colors,” he said instead, referring to your ikran’s red, orange, yellow and black patterns. Looking at the creature, Jake tried his hardest to stand up straight when he discerned all the blood coating its neck and back from the natural red color disguising it. “I wanted to fly with her.”

Pulling him into a side-hug, “I’m sorry, Lo’ak,” Jake admitted, causing him to finally break the trance he had on the blood. Speechless at his father, proud and strong, admitting he was wrong out loud and that he was being hugged when it wasn’t like his father at all to show them casual physical affection. Jake knew what must be going through his head, he would be thinking the same if his own father had ever taken responsibility for wrongdoings, as well. “It’s my fault you didn’t get to.”

Lo’ak’s mouth was hanging low. “Dad…”

“But you will,” he said, determined and full of hope. He had to be. For his children.

“You think so?”

“I pray so,” he quoted Neteyam. “Your sister is stubborn. She will pull through. Don’t lose faith in her.”

Lo’ak’s grip on his forearm was painful.

“That ikran’s lost the half of its tail fins,” the boy sniffled, thickening his voice to hide the tears. “How did it get all the way here?”

It stung in Jake’s chest. The same way you’d hidden that injury. Your ikran was fueled only by the desire to get its rider to safety, it seemed.

It would never fly again.

Jake looked down at Lo’ak, only to be met with him avoiding his look, still concerned with hiding the tears. “Loyalty,” he said. “Devotion. Sometimes you don’t want to lose the things you love no matter what, that desperation gives you enough strength to push through any trial by fire. You would do anything. Anything.”

And sometimes it was fear that did it, but he didn’t mention that to Lo’ak to not put salt on their family’s injury. Jake didn’t want to think about how terrified you must have been, or he would actually go insane. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of you not making it in the end. He had to keep going. He had to push forward. Be the father this family needed him to be.

“Come on, boy,” he pulled Lo’ak gently. “Let’s go back.”

Your ikran whined at this pitifully. Jake tried not to think. He tried not to imagine what your reaction would be upon learning you would never fly together again, and had to put down this ikran that had been devoted endlessly to you if you wanted to get a new one.

Jake didn’t think. Because if he did, he would actually go insane from the pain.

Mo’at and Kiri emerged from the tent only in the morning, by which the whole family was cocooned in Jake’s embrace for the first time in years before the sky people had come back. They all had scrambled to get up, waiting with bated breath for one syllable of good news as Kiri slipped into Jake’s arms, one wink from falling asleep while standing. He kissed the girl’s head, soothing her, hoping this could be you eventually. He had been praying for it like a madman.

“Eywa has accepted to bestow your daughter back to you, Jakesuli,” was the only answer Mo’at had for them, no word about your physical wellbeing. “But only if she accepts as well.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You must go speak with her. At the Tree of Souls.”

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

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lxclerc · 9 months

Text

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

summary… charles tries to help his girlfriend study but that proves to be difficult when he doesn’t understand a single thing requested… yes! warning… none. pure fluff.

note… another old drabble request from the graves of my inbox. also as a med student, i adore this idea so much

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

charles has never been the brightest tool in the shed when it came to academics. he supposes it comes with the occupation. growing up, he cared far too much about racing that he had no space left in his mind to care about school too. he was always meant to be a formula one driver so he never cared about the cell or the mitochondria.

ironically, you were the exact opposite. like him, you’ve known what you were meant to be the moment you got ahold of your first book. you’re going to be a doctor, a healer and you’ve dedicated yourself to that dream.

the human body is a beautiful machine, much like the universe. every little cell and atom circulating its vessel holds a purpose, creating a balance between life and death. it’s majestic, truly and a little bit scary. if one thing failed then the entire system could collapse and so you studied and studied and studied for ways to keep that system going, to cure ailments and diseases.

you thrive off academic validation and a minor superiority complex and yet somehow you’re the most anxious person charles has ever met.

he’s madly in love with you. this is a fact. him and his dream that required him to constantly put his life at risk and you with your dream of helping and saving people. really it was a match made in heaven. and charles is madly madly in love with you.

that’s the only reasonable explanation as he pulled himself out of his sim practice, seamlessly moving around the kitchen of your shared apartment as he prepared an ice coffee for you.

you’re drained and you’re on the verge of breaking down and so when he wrapped his arms around you and offered to help you study for your finals, you’d all but cried in gratitude.

no, charles leclerc didn’t care about the cell and mitochondria and but he cares greatly for you and so he’d study it if it meant you’d finally allow yourself to rest.

unfortunately for him, you’re way past learning about the mitochondria. instead you’re studying your worst enemy aka pharmacology.

“angiotensin receptor blockers prevent vasoconstriction and aldosterone release, causing a decrease in blood pressure and peripheral resistance,” you recite from the top of your head, still looking like you’re on the verge of tears but slightly better.

charles shook his head as he held the book you’d given him to help you study, his glasses on. “non, non, amour. it says here it’s ‘angiotensin receptor blockers selectively bind to the angiotensin I receptors in the blood vessels to prevent vasoconstriction and in the adrenal cortex to prevent release of aldosterone then lead to decrease in BP caused by decrease in peripheral resistance and blood volume.’”

you sigh again but couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped you. the first time he did it, you’d gotten frustrated but at this point, your brain is far too fried to even get annoyed at him. especially when even he looks like he’s about to start crying.

you pushed away the book from his hand, clumsily crawling over to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing him down so he’d be laying on the sofa and you on top of him.

“my love, i don’t need to memorize everything word for word from the book,” you explain as gently as you can for the third time. you know he’s just trying his best to help you.

“why?” he frowned. “wouldn’t it be better if you knew it exactly from the book?”

you giggled. “perhaps but no med student would ever survive memorizing twelve inch books word for word. we’d simply all break down and die.”

you hold yourself up, pushing his hair off his forehead before removing his glasses. he still looks confused but a lot of things honestly confused charles. thank god he has a smart girlfriend to explain everything to him.

“stop worrying about it,” you say. “i’ve studied enough and we both need a break.”

he sighed in relief, tightening his arms around you. “thank god i felt like my brain was put on a pressure dryer for a minute there.”

taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @ohthemissery @dr3lover @myescapefromthislife @sunf1owerrq @the6ccnsp6cyy @t-nd-rfoot @navixfr @xjval @gridbunny

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 one shot

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decolonize-the-left · 7 months

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I've noticed a rise in radfems/TERFs in feminism tags and more specifically trying to rebrand as The Real Feminism or True Feminism since it's "for the girlies" or whatever.

I am begging you all to help me bury them.

Because as a teen who grew up during the peak of exclusionary "bi/pan/aces aren't vaild" and "kill all men" era where the concept of misandry THRIVED I'm telling you this feels extremely similar.

And radfem/terf ideology got mainstream from those sentiments being so popular and so easy to tap into. It was framed as being righteous since men were oppressors.

"Women are good and men are just mean oppressors! Look at everything they've done!" is such a common sentiment in those circles.

It also completely lacks critical feminist thought.

And we're STILL dealing with the affects of it over a decade later.

.....So let's talk about JKR since she's currently the Figurehead and favorite of the movement that's trying to rewrite feminist history.

It's 2023. It's a year before a US election where Project 2025 and Trump would happily create a road for trans and queer folks to be imprisoned if not worse.

Which is I'm sure why JKR has been photographed and interacting with multiple members from The Heritage Foundation, people whove spoken for them, and people who attended theyre meetings. She even enjoyed watching Magdalen, who who she credits for becoming a TERF.

But do you know who Magdalen is? Or what else she was saying? What about any of the other people in the photo? Do you know the scope of what JKR was internalizing and how bad it was? Do you know she has ties to conservative anti-abortion groups?

Do you know what The Heritage Foundation? Probably not and they're the worst so let me tell you why it's such a huge red flag for her and other so-called TERFs and radfems to be associated with them.

Because I can tell you right now she heard a lot of things from those people and there is no fucking way in hell that it was just about queer people or just some sex-specific concerns. And it wasn't just passive bigotry.

Anyone who doesn't conform to the idea of a white, straight nuclear family (re: single mothers, leftists, immigrants, gay couples, etc) is made out to be an enemy of the state.

Anyone they can justify as a "national threat." Yes, they call us all a national threat on their site, their book, and the pamphlets they pass out to politicians. The details are listed on their website including the Mandate For Leadership which is their instruction guide for the next president.

I'm not exaggerating when I say it calls for genocide, prison camps, and eugenic cleansing.

Several people in that photo don't even support abortion, a basic women's rights that JKR claims to care about deeply.

JKR was consuming white supremacist dogma under the guise of feminism.

And she's not willing to admit or correct it which is where the problem lies. She won't even admit to herself that she was fooled or that it's bad or hypocritical.

My concern is that she is not the only person who's fallen for it and there are more everyday.

So it's very important to me y'all learn how to filter out what Actual Feminism is in this age where literal fascism is attempting to take its place.

Firstly,

Real, actual feminism will be welcoming to EVERYONE

Because the patriarchy doesn't only affect women or cis people or white women and it's an insult to every previous feminist icon to say otherwise.

Feminists have been fighting for decades to unite people under the concept that Patriarchy is a system that will be brought down with allyship and solidarity.

They've been fighting so hard and so long to prove that everyone deserves the same rights as men.

That women are just as capable as men and shouldn't be stopped from entering fields of study and sports dominated by men. They've been fighting to prove that women are just as capable and smart as any man is, that men would benefit from it dismantling patriarchy too.

Women fought side by side with the queer community to get Roe v Wade passed in 1973. You know why? Because despite what radfems and TERFs will tell you trans women benefit from protecting and standing up for bodily autonomy.

Do not let bigots tear drive a wedge between two groups that experience gender based oppression and would benefit from the same exact rights.

We have changed history together and they're terrified we'll do it again.

A screenshot from the largest feminist organization active right now, The National Organization of Women.

Notice how the T is included. They even posted this video two years ago when LGBT and specifically trans rights started really coming under attack in 2022.

Trans women are women.

Trans men are men.

ALL women deserve rights.

Every gender deserves equality and fairness.

And feminism is for all of us or it is for none of us.

Because nobody deserves to be treated the way patriarchy treats us.

#feminism #feminist #equality #gender #trans rights are womens rights are human rights #trans rights #womens rights #human rights #intersectional feminism #solidarity #leftist

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lazycats-stuff · 4 months

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Can you do a teen reader (younger than Damian by 1 or 2 years) x batfam, where he is spider man? (I mean kinda like miles morales, he has electricity powers but his webs are organic too and doesn’t need a web shooters.) he is Bruce’s biological child and his mother died, yk his canon event and what not. So he has to move to Gotham and isn’t happy about. Just distant and all. One night He sneaked out and bought a train ticket and went to New York, and was only spider man and just slept in somewhere. So the batfamily tracked him to New York, and while looking for him, they bump into him as spider man. They have to team up to find a villian but reafer gets hurt in the end and his mask fell off and they see it’s reader? They bring him and just have a talk when he wakes up and they come to conclusion for him to join the family in their fighting in Gotham?

Oh, that sounds good. Yes... Also, 2.7k words and so sorry for taking so long to write this... Hope you enjoy. I changed it a little bit, so my apologies, but I got into my writing spirit lol.

Summary: (Y/N) is Spiderman. The fam doesn't know that.

Warnings: (Y/N)'s mom passes away, funeral, sad (Y/N), he loves his city, angst, running away, fighting with Green Goblin.

(Y/N) had a great life in New York. He was very happy in his city. He lived with his mom and everything was fine. Okay, he did get bitten by a radioactive spider and got cool powers with it. Did it cause some troubles? Oh yeah. Electricity was a bit problematic to control, but he managed.

Did he get grounded because of it? His mom sure thought so. His dad visited with the rest of his brothers every month. (Y/N) understood why he couldn't come more. Being a CEO and all that stuff, (Y/N) really understood. He didn't love Bruce any less. Bruce was involved in his life, which was nice.

He loved his brothers and father, more than anything in this world. Alfred was the best though. Whenever he came, he would bring his food and (Y/N) and his mom would enjoy it too, often asking for recipes. Or they would exchange recipes.

All of those were very fun times. And his time as Spiderman. He really loved it. He loved patrolling and helping the people and maybe get a hot dog from the stands that worked through the night. He loved it all. It was nice that his webs were natural and they, like mentioned before, they also came with electricity.

His enemies hated him, but (Y/N) loved being Spiderman. He loved what he represented in New York and he wouldn't change it for anything in the world. He is a New Yorker through and through.

But life decided to be a bitch and strike that luck and happiness.

(Y/N)'s mom passed away. She was hit by a drunk driver. The worst thing is, the driver survived. When Bruce got the news, he got into the car and drove to New York. (Y/N) was told just before Bruce came and (Y/N) felt his soul shatter.

He broke down in Bruce's arms, crying and screaming. It took him a while to calm down, but he couldn't stay alone. Bruce knew that and he knew that going back to Gotham was not an option now. At all. Bruce called Alfred and explained everything and told him that he would stay to arrange the funeral.

Alfred understood and the brother called (Y/N), wishing that they could be there. (Y/N) thanked them for it and then sat up all night, unable to sleep. Bruce tried to comfort him in the best way possible, but it was difficult. Bruce's former fling, (Y/N)'s mom, was the most important person to (Y/N). Without a doubt.

Bruce knew that he would have to bury her in New York, otherwise his son would have raised hell. Without a doubt. After funeral, (Y/N) would have to move to Gotham. Which is another problem on its own. Bruce didn't know that (Y/N) was Spiderman and (Y/N) didn't know that Bruce was Batman.

Match made in hell, so to say.

The funeral was held a few days after the incident and (Y/N) thought that New York cried with him. The sky was dark and the rain was falling. (Y/N) was torn. There were way to many people who were saying sorry and while he appreciated the care and worry, he just wanted to say goodbye on his own.

His brothers have stood it with him. (Y/N) didn't even have the courage to be next to the grave, while they lowered it, but Bruce held him hand through it, keeping him close to him during the entire process.

At the end, he found some strength and came closer, allowing the rain to soak him. It felt appropriate. When she was lowered, (Y/N) threw a rose in there and wiped his eyes. He took a deep breath as they started putting dirt over her coffin and (Y/N) never felt so mad. Why did this happen to him? To him out of all people?!

Bruce recognized that look in (Y/N)'s eyes. He knew that rage, sadness and frustration in his eyes. It was going to be difficult to let go and have a new life in Gotham. But (Y/N) had to try. He had to put some effort.

" (Y/N), we have to go. " Bruce said gently as he shielded his son from the rain with an umbrella. (Y/N) kept looking as the coffin got buried under the dirt. He swallowed before nodding and following Bruce to the car.

" Why do I have to go to Gotham? " (Y/N) asked and Bruce sighed as he started driving.

" We have been over this. I have a company there and your brothers are there. I know you don't want to leave, I know that, but you have no choice. " Bruce explained as he drove and (Y/N) turned away from him, biting down on his tongue so that he wouldn't lash out against Bruce.

" I know you are not happy, but you will be happy in Gotham. "

" Sure. In a city ran by a clown and a bat. Sounds like heaven. " (Y/N) said sarcastically.

" It's actually a nice city once you live in it long enough. "

(Y/N) huffed, but kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to lash out at his father, he really didn't. His dad was doing something he needed and Bruce wasn't at fault.

It was the driver's fault.

But he was pissed and he just wanted to be alone. Bruce saw it and didn't say anything, driving back to Gotham. It was the most awkward drive Bruce has ever done in his life. The hour was quiet and once they parked in the yard of the manor, (Y/N) took a bag with his personal stuff, his Spiderman suit included, and made a beeline for his room.

He ran past everybody and they all looked at him with sad looks.

" Do you think he will be better soon? " Dick asked, glancing at Bruce.

" I don't know Dick. He is sensitive and he will need some time to process it. I don't think I can even introduce him to our line of work. He found justice, they got the driver. " Bruce said as he rubbed his chin and the boys had to agree to a certain agree.

" He just needs some time. The first few days are the toughest. He will get better as times passes. " Alfred said as he took one of the boxes out.

Those few days have passed and (Y/N) didn't really feel good. He didn't like the fact he is starting a new school year here, without his friends and a sense of familiarity. He would have to start a new, without... He cried a lot during the time and he just wore black. Alfred had to make sure he ate and Bruce was there to comfort him and make sure he is okay.

Another thing that was painful, alongside his mother's death was the fact that he couldn't be Spiderman. He couldn't go out, he couldn't save his fellow New Yorkers or chat with them. He saw the news talking about his absence and he wanted nothing more than to go back to New York.

Nothing more.

But... There is a problem called big brothers plus a dad.

They were always around, watching him. Always popping in his room to make sure he is okay and not hungry, knowing that eating wasn't easy. Everyone popped in to make sure he is okay. (Y/N) was sure they thought he would hurt himself somehow, but he wasn't doing that.

He would often sit down in his room, when he knew that his family was on patrol, he would take his suit out. He would watch the spider symbol, wishing he could be back in New York. Gotham was nothing compared to New York. New York was much better, still is better than this city. New York is alive, vibrant, full of colors.

And then you have Gotham.

But (Y/N) has had enough after 2 weeks. With a little bit sneaking around, he managed to buy a ticket, his suit underneath the normal clothes he was wearing. While his family was on patrol, he sneaked out and made his way to the station to leave. He was happy, but it was bitter sweet. It would remind him of the things he loved and yet... It would remind him of his mother.

He had actually had some money left for a few flowers to lay on her grave... (Y/N) put his head on the window, watching the scenery change. Left his phone at home so that they couldn't track him, so he spent his time looking out the window and stretching.

After a few hours, (Y/N) has arrived. He smiled as he saw his city. He took a deep breath in and walked around, just remembering the time in his city.

" My apologies New York. " (Y/N) mumbled as he started walking to the cemetery. It would be a long walk, but he had time. He really did. Once he came, the flower shop was open and he has paid with cash, making it difficult to track him. After getting a beautiful bouquet he walked to his mom's grave. He put them down and smiled...

Bittersweet beyond belief.

He kept knelt down on one knee, smiling at the gravestone. He smiled and wiped some of his tears away, not wanting to cry.

" Hey mom. I'm back. Dad wanted me to move, but I think I will stay here. " (Y/N) said as he got up and started walking to his apartment. He missed it, he really did. He could only hope that it's unlocked, but his neighbor had an extra key. He knew it.

And she loved him.

While (Y/N) was happy, the family wasn't really paying attention whether or not (Y/N) was in his room. They were thinking that he has slept. They couldn't have been more wrong about it. (Y/N) already had a whole night ahead of him as an advantage.

Alfred went to check and a few minutes later and he called out for Bruce in a panic. Everyone dropped the cutlery and ran upstairs to see if their butler was safe. Jason and Tim nearly tumbled over one another more than once. Damian jumped in first, ready to fight with the non existent intruder.

They were all shocked to see that there was no intruder. Another problem? There was no (Y/N). Jason checked the bathroom.

" Not in here. " He declared, closing the door.

Bruce wondered what the hell happened. Oh no. Where is he?

" Did anyone see him? " Bruce asked his sons, leaning on the wall.

" No... I thought he was in here. " Tim said as he looked out the window. " Where is he even? " Tim wondered. Bruce pondered for a moment.

" Lets go to the cave and check the cameras. " Bruce said as he pushed himself off of the wall. Everyone followed and soon, they were looking through the cameras.

They all paled when they saw that he went to the city. Bruce pulled all of the cameras he could and thanked God for facial recognition. He pulled it all to find (Y/N).

" Why did he escape? " Dick wondered out aloud. Was it the fact that they were checking on him too much? Was he smothered? Did they smother him?

" Shit. " Jason said next to Bruce as the two watched the screen. Everyone turned their heads to look at the screen. A train station. Bruce connected it.

" He went to New York. " Bruce said as he tracked (Y/N)'s phone.

" What the hell? " Tim wondered out loud.

Everyone frowned when the location turned out to be the manor. Everyone was now worried.

" He has to be in New York. He has to be. " Damian declared and everyone had to agree with it. They knew that (Y/N) coming here wasn't his choice and that he wanted to stay back in New York. Bruce couldn't blame (Y/N) for any of it, nobody could blame (Y/N) for trying to run to New York.

" He has an entire night as an advantage. " Damian said and everyone has agreed with him. That is one hell of an advantage.

" I'm not sure whether or not to be proud. " Bruce said, trying not to smile.

" A mixture of both. He passed the security. " Jason mumbled and Bruce chuckled.

" Yeah, I have to be a mixture of both. Lets do some more investigating and then lets go to New York at night. " Bruce said and everyone nodded.

(Y/N) has had fun during the day, but it seems that Green Goblin wasn't happy with the fact that he was gone out of their city. The fight has been going on for a while and (Y/N) was slowly getting exhausted. Ever so slowly.

(Y/N) knew that he couldn't lose his cool now. That's something that Green Goblin wanted him to do this entire fight. Green Goblin was taunting him and by God, (Y/N) was ready to kill. His wrists were hurting like never before.

He was ready to strike once more when he saw a familiar face. His dad and his brothers. Oh God. Were they all looking for him. They landed near him and (Y/N) swore that his heart was about to jump out of his chest. He really thought so.

" Hey Spidey, you need help? " Dick, well, Nightwing asked and (Y/N) shrugged his shoulders. " Could use some backup. " (Y/N) said, voice breathy.

" Arch nemesis? " Damian, well, Robin asked.

" Yup. "

" Sounds tough. " Dick said and (Y/N) got ready to strike once more. He saw an opening and took it.

(Y/N) was struck and he flew back onto the rooftop and something fell of as he landed. He couldn't pinpoint it, but every part of him screamed that something was wrong. He froze when he saw his father, covering them both with his big cape.

" (Y/N), why didn't you tell us? Is this why you didn't want to leave? " Bruce asked, glancing at his son, trying to see if he was injured.

" I... I didn't know how to... " (Y/N) admitted shyly, looking away from his dad.

" I'm not blaming you. But we have to talk about this later. We can't just leave it like this. Put on your mask and lets finish this. " Bruce said with a firm voice and (Y/N) nodded as he did so and with the help from Bruce, got up.

" Lets get the bastard. " (Y/N) said with so much determination and Bruce smiled proudly. He really is his son with that much determination.

The fight was tiring beyond belief, but the Batfamily was determined and persistent. And Green Goblin wasn't expecting the back up that (Y/N) has gotten out of nowhere. Soon, Green Goblin was taken into custody. Now it was all good. All good.

If you remember that (Y/N)'s family was still there, waiting to talk to him. He didn't really want to talk, he just wanted to avoid it. He didn't want to. By God, he wanted to go to sleep. But he knew that talk would happen eventually.

" Now, " Bruce started as he glanced at everyone. " I'm not mad you, but... You could have told us. We told you. " (Y/N) tried to say something, but Bruce stopped him. " Now, what happened happened. However, you can use your talents back in Gotham. "

(Y/N) shifted on his feet, nervous about it.

" No need to worry (Y/N). " Jason started, hands on his hips. " NYPD is more capable than GCPD. "

Everyone laughed at it. To some extent it's true, but (Y/N) wasn't convinced.

" You don't have to lose your Spider symbol. You can keep being Spiderman. You can be a spider and the rest can be birds. " Bruce said as he put his hand on (Y/N) shoulder.

" It's difficult to leave my city behind. " (Y/N) admitted and Bruce nodded in sympathy. The brothers hugged their brother, hugging him tightly.

They all were saying something, but (Y/N) couldn't understand. But he knew that they were all saying something positive.

" Now, lets go home and get you situated. " Bruce said and (Y/N) just looked at the sun.

" It weird to see you guys in this time of the day. " (Y/N) mumbled as he was led to the Batmobile. Everyone laughed at that. It was true. He really didn't want to leave New York city, but he knew that he could help them in Gotham.

He knew it would work out in the end.

#dc x male reader #dc comics #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #nightwing x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

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simping-berry · 1 year

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A Lover's Wrath

A/N: This a crackfic. While i was playing the archon quest this was half my mind. Also i have some fics in my drafts in the proof reading phase, probs will post it at the end of the week! (AKA i wasn't dead for months) Summary: You angy, may celestia save your lover and the others from your wrath. Warnings: 3.2 SPOILERS

You were pissed.

It took a lot of time to navigate the damn domain with its complex machinery yet it cannot stop your rage as you stomped closer to the source of your undying anger.

“How DARE he?! How DARE he do this to you?! After all you’ve done for him!” Your thoughts repeat in your mind as the elevator ascends to, what you hope, is the last room to finally see your lover.

Once the elevator stopped and the doors opened, you wasted no time and started marching towards the huge machine displayed in front of you. Any witness be damned, you weren't here for them! You were here for him and his cheating ass.

Meanwhile the 3 people that were already in the room stopped their face off as they saw a new face marching forward towards them, with eyes filled with anger. Lumine and Nahida were baffled to find another person, with no vision, in such a dangerous place that is filled with fatui personnel. How did you even manage to come here?

The robot’s faceplate opened to reveal a confused scaramouche inside. Why the fuck were you here?

“Love? What are you-” “Don't you dare call me ‘love’ Kunikuzushi!” You snapped as you stopped in front of him, making scaramouche shocked on why you were angry at him. “Kunikuzushi, you cheating BASTARD!”

“y/n what are you talking about?”

“I heard EVERYTHING, Kunikuzushi. You have the AUDACITY to call haypasia your ‘First Follower’. What am I then? A FUCKING display?” You shouted. Scaramouche was annoyed at first. This was his day to be reborn as a God. But he wouldn't let his normal attitude show in fear for the worst. Your face says it all. Anger. Hurt. betrayal. “y/n it’s not what it looks-” “Don't you even say ‘It’s not what it looks like’! I'm not BLIND kuni!”

You turned to the side and marched towards the traveler, who was bewildered at the sight in front of her, alongside Nahida. You gripped the traveler's arm and looked him dead in the eye. “Take me to that face plate or you will be the one to face my wrath.” Aether knows not to fuck with an angry significant other so he tried to find a way. But you were growing more and more angry as the traveler desperately thinked of a solution.

Scaramouche, while nervous, speaks up to at least get you out of the domain. “Y/n maybe we can talk about this when we get home”

That was your snapping point. The both of you just started shouting at each other, or rather, you shouting and Scaramouche trying to calm you down and asking for forgiveness.

Nahida can sense your overwhelming rage and genuinely fears what will happen to the balladeer even though he was the enemy at this moment. “Traveler, we should try and block them from reaching the balladeer.” Nahida suggested to which Aether agreed.

“DON'T YOU TEST ME KUNIKUZUSHI I WILL BE THE ONE TO DEFEAT YOU THIS MOMENT! I WILL MUSOU NO HITOTACHI YOUR ASS AND GIVE YOU TO YOUR HAYPASIA” You shouted as you threw multiple weapons at him.

That was when Nahida and Aether quickly tried to calm you down as Scaramouche was removing all the wires that were restricting him to come to you and explain himself. While all this was happening, Dottore was struggling to keep his laughter silent. He shouldn’t be laughing because his experiment was being delayed but at the sight of 3 powerful beings trying to stop a tiny human was a once in a lifetime sight. In the end he just laughed his heart out, which didn't go unnoticed by your ears. You squashed all the hands that were restricting you and ran towards Dottore and pulled him close to your face.

“YOU TOO, DON'T THINK YOU’RE SAFE I WILL ALSO BEAT YOUR ASS”

Well, Dottore now understands the panic the other 3 had. Your rage was something else. You were a weak tiny human but your strength and determination was inhuman, at least only at that time because of your rage. Your grip in his collar grew tighter as he started fearing for the worst.

Aether and scaramouche has to pry you off from Dottore while you keep struggling and fighting anyone you eyes lands on. And that’s how the disaster of Sumeru was stopped. (And how everyone, including Dottore and Nahida, found out about the Balladeer’s feral lover)

In the end, Scaramouche explained himself and you calmed down. At Least now he knows to never play with you or he will genuinely fear for his life.

#genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact #scaramouche #genshin impact x reader

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floppydiskettess · 1 year

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VALORANT AGENTS REACTING TO THEIR S/O GETTING INJURED ON A MISSION

featuring - sage, killjoy, cypher, yoru, sova, gekko, viper

a/n : cyphers part contains a lot of angst and alcohol talk. i couldnt let it ALL be fluff 😋

✮~ Sage ~✮

literally the sweetest ever, but this doesn't need to be said

if its a minor injury, she will definitely be giving you a talk about being safer and how to prevent that from happening

"but what if it was something more serious? something even I couldn't heal? you must be more careful angel."

if her s/o was harmed badly, she would do two things.

one, she would immedietely drop everything and rush towards healing you, this woman will stay up all night trying to heal you and make sure that there is not so much as a scratch left on your body. she would definitely overwork herself but making sure you are alright is all that matters.

two, the second you are stable and resting, she is going to find out whichever enemy agent hurt you and fuck. them. up.

im talking full battle sage, she will have no mercy if the injury they caused was threatening enough.

she may excude sweet and kind energy but she is one scary lady when the people she loves are harmed

she knows exactly how damaged a body must be for it to be unfixable.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't be there my dear, but they won't be hurting you again."

she will be watching you carefully, even asking brimstone to take you off of missions for a short time or asking him to keep an eye on you.

she doesn't know what she would do if she lost you..

☻︎~ Killjoy ~︎︎☹︎

she blames herself, how could she not? she designed most of the stuff...it must be a error in her inventions.

she will work night and day trying to figure out what happened. was it a weapon error? did the gun she designed for you malfunction? oh no was she to blame for anyone elses injuries?!

it would take a lot of reassurance for her to calm down. after all, this wouldn't have happened if she had been more careful...right?

"Mein gott...you scared me. I thought I lost you schatzi..."

she is going to be by your side after sage discharges you from her infirmary. expect lots of physical affection (if your comfortable with it.) and care.

she will treat you as if you were glass about to break. you will not be doing any chores while you recover.

oh you need to work on a mission report? its already finished and submitted. you are hungry? she would cook a lovely meal her parents would make her when she was sick. (with the help of some other agents...shes probaly not a great cook lets be honest..)

"KJ...Sage gave me the all clear! I can do it!"

" Nein nein! You are going to rest mein Häschen! I don't want you straining yourself!"

♖~ Cypher ~♖

if you get injured, be it minor or major. this man will WORRY.

he already lost everything, he cannot lose you either. if he did...he would have nothing.

when sage showed up at his door covered in blood and bruises. he knew something went wrong.

you told him you were going on a small mission. just an in and out radianite extraction at an abandoned lab. he had no reason to worry...right?

when he heard what had happened, he was devastated. what was supposed to be a quick mission turned out to be a setup. what makes it worse? you were alone at your site.

he will be thinking the worst. what if you...? if he had only done a more detailed check on the lab...maybe he could have protected you. but he didn't. he feels like he failed.

you spend weeks in the recovery bay, lying unconcious.

he spends those weeks without you in his lab drinking the memories away and trying to figure out what happened.

he just cannot function with the thought of losing you at the back of his mind at all times.

he knows he was caught when viper appears at his doorway with a concerned glare and a solemn looking sage in tow. he can't remember most of it, but viper was worried? about him?

soon he was also transported to sages infirmary. getting put on nutrients and oxygen. it was obvious he was not taking care of himself without your presence

when you wake up, he would be right there cradling your cheek with his hand. his mask nowhere in sight. all that matters was that you were safe now

"يا حياتي..i was so scared i lost you"

he will never forget his past, but he looks forward to his future with you.

can you tell i like cypher guys :)

☁︎~ Yoru ~☁︎

do not even get me started on this man

he would be extremely angry.

but is it at you, the others, or maybe himself?"

upon hearing the news, he would immediately check on you. seeing your unconcious body just makes something in him snap. the thought that someone had done this to you...he plants a soft kiss to your temple, before storming out of the infirmary.

for the next few days, he would lash out at everyone around him. sage came around to bring him some food as he had not left his room and he just...lost it.

he wasn't even sure who he was yelling at, who he was blaming for what happened. poor sage looked petrified and the others seemed to gather the idea yoru didn't want to be talked too right now.

with no word from anybody about your condition, he lay down on his bed and cried numbly. every night he would teleport into where sage had kept you to heal. he would sit in silence staring at your asleep face before always kissing your forehead goodbye. in hopes that somehow, you would wake up.

he went to your room and grabbed some sweaters of yours, every night he slept with them for comfort, clinging onto them as if they were going to leave him too.

when you wake up, he won't care about keeping his mysterious "badass" persona up. he will be at your side holding your hand and crying.

"please be more careful 私の日光...i don't know what i would do if i lost you."

when sage discharges you, he will be glued to you. he will simple little things for you (such as opening doors for you.)

his love language is definitely acts of service

if you teased him about this though, he will never admit to it.

he will be doing simple things such as cooking meals, cleaning up, and helping you finish any work you have

he is so domestic

he may not be super outwardly affectionate, but with each small favour he does for you he is putting all of his love into it.

𖦹~ Sova ~𖦹

sova is literally the most caring boyfriend...like ever..

if its a minor injury, he will treat it (if sage and skye are off on a mission).

he will definitely lightly scold you, not to be mean! just because he hates seeing you hurt and in pain.

"ангел. please be more careful next time..you know i hate seeing you upset."

if it was a major injury though, he is relatively the same.

he isn't scared to cry infront of the others, when he gets the news that your mission went south he was crying into sages shoulder.

he would stay with you the entire recovery. sage had to keep kicking him out at nighttime but eventually she realized she couldn't stop him. she simply would bring meals for him whenever he would forget to eat.

he would sit and tell you about his day, how the missions were going, even the silly schenanigans that the younger agents were pulling

"yoru tried to get revenge on phoenix for his prank but it went so bad ангел. he entered his rift and jumped out to scare him, but reyna happened to have just been passing by! she was absolutely livid родная. i have never seen our dear riftwalker so terrified!" he chuckled

when you woke up, he was still there lightly snoring against the chair sage had brought him.

when he woke up, he was thrilled, his eyes immediately lighting up like a childs

"have you been sitting here the whole time?"

"of course my dear. as if i would leave you."

߷~ Gekko ~߷

as the newest agent, he hasn't known you for very long. your relationship was coming up to a few months old but he hadn't told you how much he loved you yet.

so naturally, when he heard you were injured he was terrified

he knew this job was dangerous! he just never thought it would be you getting injured...he also never really thought of anyone getting badly injured

he was training with harbour when he overheard a mission going wrong...a mission you were on.

he would rush to the infirmary overloading sage with questions about you

"Sage!! Finally...que pasó?? Neon told me something happened on the mission?!"

Appariently, you had gotten caught in a fight with the enemy Breach and he hit you with his aftershock.

He didn't know much about Breach, but he knew that man had quite a bit of strength in his abilities (being like...bionic you know?"

After some skillful and strategic convincing (pathetic and annoying begging) Sage agreed to take him to see you.

When he caught sight of you lying in the bed staring up at the ceiling, he let out a big sigh he didn't even know he was holding.

"Mi sol! Oh mierda I was so worried! What happened?"

He would be sitting patiently listening to you explain what happened. All while staring at you softly.

"Shooottt...sounds like you had a busy mission! I am just happy you made it back cariño."

☠︎︎~ Viper ~ ☠︎︎

if you were minorly injured, it was probably from tinkering with her poison vials and one leaked onto your fingers

after hearing your grunt in pain, she turns around and her eyes widen, rushing towards you.

"Idiot, I said not to touch anything!"

she swears under her breath before wiping it away and rubbing some sort of cream onto your hand

"Honestly..who would touch something containing poison WITHOUT protection?"

her biggest fear? her poison causing you harm.

so what if a mission were to go wrong and you happened to step into a bubble of her poison?

it was a genuine wrong place wrong time situation. she had a poison bubble deployed and sitting on the ground, as she activated it she looked up to see your frame walking overtop of it.

she shouts to get you to move, but you don't hear her in time. next thing she knows, you are on the ground out cold with green and purple lines all over your face.

she quickly would call for backup, holding you tight but trying to avoid the chemical burns.

when she is back to safety, she rushes to sage's infirmary with your barely warm body in her arms

unfortunately, the poison had seeped into some open wounds you had. causing it to spread throught your body. viper leaves sage alone to do her job, pacing back and forth outside.

she knew how strong her poison could be, but she also knew how strong your body was. you would survive. you had too.

after a few hours, a tired sage walks out and nods, signaling it went well.

viper rushed into the room and immediately looked at your sleeping face, wincing at the fading bloodshot lines on your face.

"i'm so sorry love..please wake up soon"

she would wait by your side holding your hand and occasionally planting soft kisses to the back of your hand.

she knew you would be ok, but she couldn't help but feel bad that her miscommunication and carelessness caused this to happen to you.

when you wake up, she would be whispering soft apologies into your ear

"i promise...you will never feel this pain again my dear."

a/n : holy shit guys!!!! this took a while!! i spent a good 4 hours writing all this JDJSBSJSKSKSN its probably cringe im sorry

but yeah! i tried my best to write this with a gender neutral reader in mind but in some of these its definitely a bit more fem reader leaning! also i do not speak any of the languages spoken in this so if i made a mistake or used something wrong PLEASE let me know so I can fix it!!!

#valorant headcanons #valorant x reader #yoru x reader #viper x reader #sage x reader #sova x reader #cypher x reader #gekko x reader #killjoy x reader #valorant #valorant x y/n #valorant x you #y/n not used #but its implied #headcanons #ooc post #valorant fanfiction

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writesleah · 7 months

Text

not a chance ✰ m. riddle

➻ pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

➻ genre: angst/fluff

➻ summary: you and mattheo are sworn enemies, but everything changes when he becomes your tutor

➻ warnings: swearing (not loads, but a good few times), my writing lmao, one sex reference, 14 year old hormones :) - that’s all i can really think of, so if you find any more, let me know so i can fix the list!

➻ word count: 1.9k

➻ a/n: this is way longer than i was planning on making it but once i started writing, the words just flowed. this hasn’t been proofread either so i apologise if theres any mistakes that slipped through. i’m also fairly new to writing mattheo, but i’m so obsessed with him right now that i just had to do it for my first published fic!

enemies should never spend time together - that’s just a fact - and mattheo riddle was your worst enemy. you had never met someone more infuriating in your life, someone so incredibly cocky that it made you want to pitch yourself off the astronomy tower. he did all of that for you, and more.

you were in your potions class, watching the hands on the clock tick by every second, every minute, waiting to finally be released from the hell professor snape held you in for a full hour every tuesday and friday.

potions was never really your strong suit, so you knew doing your O.W.L for the class wasn’t going to go so well, but your friends convinced you to go. of course they did.

your eyes darted to the door as you heard it swing open, a boy with curly, brunette hair stalking in.

“you’re late, mr riddle.” snape glared at mattheo, his voice it’s usual stern tone. “forty-five minutes late.”

“sorry, professor. i was helping professor moody with something for defence against the dark arts.” he sneered back, emphasising the fact that mad-eye moody was teaching the class and not snape, who gave him a sharp look before continuing on with his class.

“surprised to see you here.” the familiar voice scoffed as he took a seat on the table next to yours, where all of his friends were conveniently sitting. how pleasant.

“riddle.” you murmured, eyeing him as he took his seat and pulled out his quill.

“awh, greeting me?” he smirked, his head tilting just slightly in a way that was so incredibly frustrating. “did you miss me over the summer?”

you scoffed at the idea, rolling your eyes. “miss you? not so much.”

“ouch. that one hurt, not gonna lie to you.” he laughed to himself, scribbling down the date on the top of his parchment.

“cute.” you spat. you never really bothered to give him full replies, not in the way that he did, unless you felt it was absolutely necessary. “why’d you even turn up? the lesson ends in fifteen minutes.”

“i was going to just skip, but then i remembered my favourite person would be here.” he smiled warmly, though it was laced with that familiar sarcasm you knew all too well.

you give him a small glare, quirking a brow at him. “yeah? who’s that? me?”

“is that a joke?” he scoffed, his expression turning serious as he glared at her. “no, daphne.” he motioned to the girl on his right. you had noticed they had grown closer over the last few weeks of third year, but never really thought much of it. he wasn’t really the type to get into serious relationships, more just little flings or girls he would snog and then never speak to again.

you felt a pang of emotion in your heart, but you weren’t sure why, or what it was. a smirk slowly made its way onto his face as he watched your nose screw up, his brows raising in amusement. “why? you wish it was you?” he laughed again, sarcastically, as always.

“course. whatever will i do now that i know i’m not mattheo riddle’s favourite person?” you scoffed, shaking off the feeling and giving him the glare you always did. why did you care? you didn’t, right?

he gave you a small chuckle in return, before the conversation quickly ended, along with the lesson not so long after.

“miss (y/l/n), mr riddle, please stay seated when everyone else leaves.” snape demanded, causing you to roll your eyes and let out a quiet groan.

when everyone else had left, the professor stalked towards the two of you, eying you both up cautiously before he spoke.

“as you both know, you begin to prepare for your O.W.Ls in fourth year, this year.” he began, the mention of the tests making you want to curl up in a corner and never think again. “given miss (y/l/n)’s frank inability to brew a single potion over the last few years, she will need a tutor to give her any chance of passing the test.”

you screwed your nose up at the slight dig, but continued listening to him nonetheless. “now, mr riddle has proven himself to be quite talented in my class, so he will be your tutor. i trust that i can leave you two here for the hour to begin your first session?”

you groaned loudly, watching a smirk spread on mattheo’s stupid face, but nodded in defeat. “yes, professor.” you mumbled, your head in your hands.

snape swiftly left the room, leaving the two of you alone.

“you reckon we can just lie and say we did the hour?” you murmured, your eyes peeking through your fingers to look at the brunette.

he scoffed quietly. “kind as ever.” he retorted, shaking his head. “you might as well do it. we all know you’re hopeless when it comes to potions, so it might do you some good.”

“myeh, kind as ever.” you mimicked, rolling your eyes. “fine. hurry it up, though.”

he moved to sit next to you, beginning to ask you questions to gauge where you were at with your knowledge in potions. of course, you managed to get every question wrong, or do something that put him off.

“you don’t know anything?” he groaned, his eyes narrowing in frustration. “you’re so fucking stupid, merlin. i’ve never met a fourteen year old girl as dumb as you.”

you furrowed your brows, a small pout on your face. “i’m not stupid. it’s the subject. it doesn’t make any sense.”

“i’m going through first year stuff right now. you’re ridiculous if you think you’re going to pass your O.W.L.” he scoffed, waving his hands around frantically as you laid your head on the table, your tongue between your teeth as you held back a snarky comment.

“whatever.” you groaned. “i give up. i’m expecting myself to fail at this point. i know i will. there is no point in us doing this.”

“i mean… you’re probably right, but you should at least try.” he shrugged slightly, his tone still full of annoyance. you watched his fingers brush through his dark curls, your head tilting just slightly as he did so. his brows furrowed as he looked at you, muttering a small “what?”

“why are you so insistent that i stay with you right now?” you blurted, voicing your thoughts before you could take it back.

he didn’t say anything, glancing away for a moment before looking back at you, his eyes tracing your body just long enough for you to notice. you squirmed slightly at the sudden tension between you, shooting him a dirty look.

“stop looking at me like that. it’s weird.” you spat, attempting to shake off his gaze, if that was even possible.

“like what?” his eyes shot back up to yours, his nose scrunching slightly, his smile frown lines more visible than ever.

“like i’m one of the girls you try to snog up in the astronomy tower. stop it.” you had witnessed and interrupted his shameless make out sessions far too many times, the tower being a place you both frequented, though for reasons of the complete opposite. you went there to be alone, he went there to have company.

his hand shifted to your thigh, landing on top of your pleated school skirt the uniform required you to wear, a smirk on his face. “do you want to be?”

your gaze was fixed on his hand, squirming slightly at the sudden contact, though not making any effort to stop it. “uh, no. not really. what the fuck?” you let out a half-laugh as you looked back up at him, seeing his brows furrow slightly. “what? was that not the right answer? want me to get on my knees and beg for you to make out with me under the stars?”

he scoffed to himself, rolling his eyes. “yeah, you’d definitely do that.” he retorted sarcastically, giving you a small glare.

“you have the wrong idea of me.” you shook your head, biting your lower lip just slightly as you felt his thumb move to the hem of your skirt. “what are you doing?”

“showing you how much i want you.” his voice took on a low and serious tone, before crashing his lips into yours. you didn’t move for a moment, before quickly coming to your senses and shoving him off.

“are you high or something?” you looked him up and down, rubbing your lips together in an attempt to make the strange sensation they held go away.

“no. completely sober. i don’t smoke weed.” he laughed quietly, looking at you in amusement. you gave him a small huff, knowing that he wasn’t exactly telling the truth. “was that your first kiss?”

your lips parted in amusement, the tip of your tongue held just between your front teeth. “what?”

“was that your first kiss?” he repeated, his eyes tracing every inch of your face. “because, no offence, but if it wasn’t, you’re a pretty shit kisser. i doubt you have experience.”

you scoffed at his words, shaking your head with a small pout. “no, it wasn’t my first kiss. it was just ‘shit’, as you so elegantly put it, because i didn’t fucking kiss you back, idiot.” you felt the overwhelming urge to spit as many swear words and insults you could muster at him, but held back when you saw the look in his eyes.

“wanna actually kiss me, then?” he huffed, rolling his eyes, before they settled on the pillowy, pink flesh of your lips.

you hesitated for a moment, before leaning in to give him a small kiss. his lips were soft, and the slow motions gave you a better feel of him than the first kiss. it felt safer, more intimate.

the second you went to pull away, he pulled you in closer, the kiss growing slightly more aggressive. you felt the edge of his fingertips slide just slightly under your skirt, going no further than the edge of the hem. the movement was enough for you to pull away, though.

“riddle…” you whispered, your eyes shooting down to his hand. “look, i don’t know what you get up to with half your little girlfriends, but i don’t wanna, like, do anything, so…” you shrugged slightly.

he looked at you with a furrowed brow for a moment, before letting out a small chuckle, which just confused you further. “oh, wait, no.” he shook his head, which tilted as a sly smirk came across his face. he removed his hand from your thigh and let out another short laugh. “i wasn’t trying to- sorry. yeah, no, i’m in the same boat as you. i may get with a lot of girls, but i’m still fourteen at the end of the day. i’m not really doing anything other than make-outs yet.”

you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding at his words, a small smile settling on your face. “okay, good. i was panicking a bit there.” you added with a single laugh.

it was silent for a while as you both relished in each other’s company, or rather, didn’t know what else to say.

“so…” you spoke up after a couple minutes, your eyes darting back to his, “do we still hate each other?”

he raised his brows in amusement, a small, almost disgusted scoff coming from his mouth.

“not a chance.”

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfiction #benjamin wadsworth #fanfic #enemies to lovers #forced proximity

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