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#oh to be held by my blorbo
neon-junkie · 8 months
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what do you mean hes fictional. i need him
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aaaaaaaaagenloser · 5 months
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(Tw: kinda transphobia? Use of it/its for a character who hasn’t declared what their pronouns are yet. Arguments over whether a character is a person or not; that ties into the pronoun thing here. Bonus points for descriptions of canon-typical gore yipeeee)
An update from after writing this: oh this. Got. This one got away from me?? I think I started this at 4 minutes past the hour. It is now 43 minutes past the hour. shitt.
Update; it is now 17 minutes after the NEXT hour. 26 minutes after th last update. I have seen god in the past hour and she shook in fear of both my power and audacity. I have lunch with my family scheduled in like 6 hours and I have not yet slept. This wasn’t meant to be as long as it is but I was possessed and this is the result. I may edit it and make it smoother later but I’ll make that a separate post, I want this sleep-deprived chunk of words to be here as like a monument to the fact that I could have been playing stardew valley during this time but I chose to do this instead
TLDR: long ass story ahead written by a sleep-deprived and hyperfixation-driven author. Who is now going the fuck to BED
“We can’t just keep it! What if it has a tracking device? It won’t let us fucking touch it so there’s no way of knowing it has one unless it leads them right to us!”
“Ok, I hear you but think. That hasn’t happened yet. It’s been about what, three days? and that hasn’t happened, and they haven’t been violent towards any of us at all. They haven’t tried to go back either, so there’s no risk of them telling or leading Showfall where we are.”
“Why do you keep calling it ‘they’?”
“Well they can’t be an “it” now can it? …wait.”
“Ok can we figure out the gender of the thing in the other room after we figure out if it’s a threat to us or not. It’s not even a fucking person, you remember what those things did to you back there, don’t you?”
“Those people were not themselves, they were just doing what he wanted them to do—“
“They’re not fucking people! Those things are all part of Showfall, just like Hetch was! It’s just waiting for the right time to turn us in, or pull some shit on one of us like they did before.”
“They weren’t… they weren’t in control.”
“Yeah like fuck they weren’t, I saw it fucking happen!”
“You can’t just… Ok. Sneeg. Stop. You don’t speak for me, the one who, oh I don’t know, was the one that shit happened to? They were being controlled just like us—“
“No, no, not like us. We were wandering around and not knowing what the fuck was happening. None of us knew what was happening. We just went along blindly. Those things—on purpose—dragged you to that stupid wall and sewed wires into your hands—“
“Shut up, Sneeg—“
“No you shut up! You didn’t see it fucking happen! I saw them and Bitchface literally hold you down until you passed out! They were fucking choking you, they fucking—they nearly fucking killed you with just their hands, that’s not a little suggestion in the back of your brain, that’s on purpose! That is fucking deliberate, that is a thing those machines chose to do! You don’t remember, you weren’t conscious when they fucking stapled you to the wall and strapped your head in—“
Sneeg glanced at Ranboo for a moment in-between pacing as he ranted, and the far away look in their sibling’s eyes shut them up immediately. Ranboo was still present, thank fuck, but they were looking at their brother like he was holding up a knife to their throat.
“Fuck, Ran, okay, okay—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… shit. Do you need Charlie?”
“You don’t know when to shut the fuck up.”
“…okay. Okay. I’m sorry. Do you need me to get Charlie?”
“No, I’m fucking fine.” It did not sound like he meant that at all. His voice was less steady than before. “I don’t want him to worry about our… hitchhiker. He’s worrying enough about… well, everything.”
“The fact that it’s here, so close to us is the reason I’m trying to get you to see, Ran. What if it turns on him? What if it does that shit to him when we aren’t there?”
“We will be there.”
“And when it tries anything, we can kill it?”
“Sneeg!”
“You wouldn’t kill it, even if it hurt our fucking brother?”
“Of course we wouldn’t keep them around if they did that, could we at least just… just leave it behind? …wait, no, they couldn’t take care of themselves. If we had to leave it behind, maybe we should…”
Silence lingered for a bit too long.
“We should what, Ran?”
“…Sneeg, I was about to say that killing it would be a mercy.” The Hero laughed. “Doesn’t that sound familiar?”
The Taken didn’t reply.
“We have to help them. I don’t… I don’t want to be on the other end of a mercy killing. I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.”
“Okay. I’m—are you okay?”
“…m fine. It’s fine. Just. Can you stop acting like they’re any different from us? Please.”
“What do you want me to think then?” His voice was softer than it had been a few minutes before.
“Just assume that they… that they were someone. Just like we were before. And they didn’t… they didn’t do anything on their own, it was all Showfall.”
“Okay. Fine. Let’s assume they were controlled, they didn’t mean to, so on and so forth. Why haven’t they talked yet.”
“I don’t think any of the drones even could talk. Wait, should we really be calling them a drone—“
“Shut the fuck up, Ranboo, we have got to figure out what to do with it. It probably doesn’t even know what is happening, what the fuck does it matter what we call it.”
“It matters to me! Do you want me to call you by your title? Do you want to call me by mine? …No? Then why are we treating them like all they are is what Showfall made them? We had lives before, we were someone, so they must have been too. They might not realize it, or… or act like it, but they used to be someone. They are a whole person, Sneeg. We have to help them, we can’t just leave them behind because that would mean we are giving up on someone just like us, and we cannot give up on each other. They… they would have hurt us by now if they were going to. And Showfall hasn’t found us since… you know, which means there aren’t any more trackers.
…okay, Sneeg?”
“…okay. If it,” he sighed at the look Ran gave them, “if they try anything, we have to leave them behind. I’m not letting a dumbass puppet be the reason we get taken back.”
“If they—ok, whatever, you’re not understanding. You can’t say one of us somehow wanted to be controlled, and they’re a ‘puppet’ but those rules don’t apply to the rest of us—“
“There is not an ‘us,’ Ran! That thing isn’t like us!”
“Guys?”
A sleepy voice shut the two of them up instantly. They had a split-second conversation with their eyes before looking to their brother. ‘We aren’t done talking about this’ ‘You’e absolutely right, so later?’ ‘Later.’ ‘We’re telling Charlie nothing happened?’ ‘Of course.’ ‘Ok good plan.’
“Why are you two fighting? I’m tired, can we please go back to sleep?”
“We weren’t fighting, we were…”
“…talking about plans for tomorrow. And you can go back to sleep.”
“I don’t want to be by myself.” Charlie looked at Sneeg pointedly, who sighed to Ranboo with a playfully annoyed expression.
“Well I guess I gotta go be a teddy bear again.”
“Have fun”
“Absolutely not.”
Charlie punched Sneeg in the shoulder lightly for that, who just giggled in response and led his little brother back to their room.
Which left Ran by themselves.
Some nights, he would join them, but some nights Charlie couldn’t stand to be anywhere near Ran, and the three of them had made a silent mutual agreement that Charlie trusted Sneeg more than he did Ranboo.
…Ranboo was okay with this. He wasn’t hurt by it. He didn’t cry on the nights he slept by himself.
He didn’t wish he could be the one Sneeg comforted sometimes. They were just fine.
They were fine, which is why they went to the living room where their… well. Their hitchhiker? They weren’t exactly a brother, or a sibling, more like a fourth wheel on a tricycle. Or a flyaway hair. Okay, maybe Ranboo needed to get tbr fuck to sleep, alone or not.
But he found himself in the living room, where their hitchhiker slept. Or, didn’t sleep, as they seemed to not need to. They would sit on the couch and stare idly at the tv. That was what had started the whole conversation with Sneeg in the first place; Ran wanted to leave some kind of entertainment for the fourth person so they wouldn’t be made to sit in the dark for hours. Sneeg took this remark as a perfect opportunity to explain all the reasons why the former drone should be abandoned, but Ranboo would have fucking none of it. Maybe the couch potato (shit, he really needed to come up with a name for them—) didn’t seem to sleep, barely ate, and stayed still unless actually verbally told to move, but they were still a person. Ranboo was sure of it.
Their hand wandered up to the fresh scabs where their mask had been. The fourth person had a mask, one that hadn’t been touched. Despite usually staying still, the person—(Ranboo thinks they might just call this person Couch for now. Maybe it’s not accurate, and they’re tired, but it’s something. C, for short.)
C would back away any time the others would try to get near them. And they did in fact try, but despite how creative or sneaky they got, C always ducked away. It reminded Ranboo of the drone who had followed them with a camera, always one step away and never letting the Hero get too close.
The mask turned to Ranboo, who stared back quietly. C hadn’t talked at all, so Ranboo didn’t expect them to suddenly start now. He wasn’t even sure if they understood what was said to them, but Ranboo wanted to try anyways. Better to be polite.
“Do you like the show that’s on? I think it’s called Lucy, or something. I don’t know, Sneeg said it was funny. And it didn’t seem, uh- scary or anything.”
The mask didn’t speak.
“If you want to change it, the remote’s right there, um, I showed you how to use it before. And there’s like, instructions drawn on there. You can thank Charlie for that one.”
“I think I’m going to head to bed.”
“Fuck it, can I stay here?”
The mask still didn’t speak, but the head hidden behind it tilted a bit at the sudden change in tone. Ranboo took this as an absolute win.
“So I just. I don’t want to be by myself. And I don’t think you sleep, I mean if you just sleep when everyone else is asleep that’s cool, but also if so how do you even? function? on that much sleep? It really isn’t that much but to be fair you don’t do much so maybe you don’t need it. …do you sleep sitting up? And just somehow wake up when we get close? I know, um. Sorry about that, again, we were just worried your mask had a tracker like mine used to.”
Ran laughed nervously. “I think I did convince them that it doesn’t, so that should stop now. If um. If we make you uncomfortable you still don’t have to be touched, it’s, it’s fine.”
Other than the head tilt before, there wasn’t a reply.
“Okay, since. You can’t talk, I’m just gonna… I’ll sit down beside you. On the couch. And if you don’t want me to be that close you can uh- you can leave. Or like, get up, and then I’ll leave. This is the only room with a tv, so I’ll let you stay here, but I can’t tell if you want me to be here or not, so. Okay, sorry, I’m rambling. Just… move if you want me to leave, okay?”
Ranboo waited for a response that didn’t come, then sighed. “Okay.” He kept his hands up and open while sitting down, waiting for a few moments before tucking his feet under himself to get more comfortable. “I’m just gonna stay here, okay? Like I said, just move if you want me to leave.”
The mask had tracked them to where they sat now, but the person—C—didn’t make a move to leave. Ranboo turned their attention to the tv, keeping an eye on their couch partner in their peripheral vision. During a moment of audience laughter in the show—I Love Lucy, they remembered—C turned their head back to the television as they had been before Ranboo walked in.
Seeing as how C (they needed a better name than that—) didn’t speak, this was the closest Ranboo could get to being told “you can stay here.” So they did. A few episodes later, his head was on the arm of the couch and his eyes were closed.
Five turned its attention to the Hero, who was now asleep. He had said it was a person, which was almost hilarious. And the Taken and the Hero seemed to think it couldn’t talk? They had to know it needed to be given permission first: any handler of a Drone or Prop knew that basic rule. It would wait until permission was given: it knew how to obey. It wasn’t meant to speak to a superior unless it was told it was allowed. It would wait.
…in the meantime, it studied its handler, the Hero. The other Actors, their two other handlers, called him ‘Ranboo’ but Five knew that wasn’t his actual label. The Hero was his character in the last show, and so that is who he was. Five didn’t know if Actors had a number, but he had been called the Hero in the script, and so the Hero he will be until the script changes.
It hoped to get new instructions, a new script for itself, something, soon. It was tired of simply watching the Actors go about their incredibly off-script show. It was sometimes told to participate, and since no other superiors were nearby, it had to obey its current handlers. But it was told to participate, to stir eggs, to help clean the kitchen, to attack small webs in corners with a stick with soft spikes on the end. Those sorts of things weren’t it’s usual directive, and so it found itself…
It didn’t resent its handlers. They were doing their best, and they at least knew that they were meant to give it orders. It simply wished they were familiar orders. It wished the Hero had told it to play dead, or play chase, or play camera, or caught, or prop. It would even listen if it was told to power down until needed. At least then it wouldn’t have to be conscious in this boring and unfamiliar set.
.
Y EA I know they probably don’t like tvs. Shhhhhh. I didn’t think about that until like. I had already written the tv part. At this moment it is 55 minutes past th hour and I want these characters to go the fuck to sleep so I can go thr fuck to sleep /lh
And yeah Five only uses “he” for glran. That is intentional. It’ll be talked about and shit later. Something about being put into a role, something about showfall being transphobic, something something I want to go to bed
Powering down = “sleeping” for a drone. Different but similar. I’ll explain how it works later?, anyway The others hav e told Five to “sleep” but it doesn’t understand because it is only ever told to “power down” so it’s like error.sleep_not_found and it stares at them like “bitch you said the wrong. Thing. You’re supposed to know how to control me so you don’t want me to power down I fucking guess” and it’s gonna be really funny after that miscommunication is taken care of.
If you remember the Five Gets A Cold And Wants To Throw Hands With Everyone post, this is wayyy before that. These motherfuckers are fresh out of showfall. Don’t ask how they got a house. I’ll figure it out
I am! Tired! I’m not proofreading this!! Goodnight please give me your thoughts if you have them. I need to know I didn’t sacrifice tbis much sleep in vain /nf /lh (I appreciate words but you are Not required to give them. Love you have a good nigt/p)
#five the genloss blorbo#let’s not talk about how many tries it took me to spell unobserved. let’s simplynot#update like 5 years into me writing this: i also cannot spell the word peepohe it would seem#that. that was meant to be the word People. you can see m#h my point stands#it is late as fuck yet I Have to make this. it has to exist so I must make it exist#I’m hamilton writing like I’m running out of time but I’m writing g#writing 51 essays in which assorted characters get the physical and/or emotional shit beaten out of them#and me running out of time is running out of sleepy. I am a sleep y man#take a break and get away says my pillow. I am Hamilton my pillow is upstate and this goddam mess of a short story I am trying to write is M#this story is Mariah Reyndolds leading me to her bed .#I haven’t slept in a while and I’m hyperfixationed on Hamilton so that metaphor makes. 0 sense#if you’re reading this far I’m so sorry. have a cookie! and fun fact an old lady held my hand and s#she said my (Very Androgynous!!) haircut is perfect. she used those words#i almost cried right then and there. genuine compliments from people make my fucking day . ok I need to go back to editing thisthing now#I wrote it. changed a plot point. started to rewrite it. changed ANOTHER plot point#so now I’ve got several s#several layers of Oh Shit I have to untangle#im. making my own goddam escape au apparently????? it won’t make any fucking sense but I will explain it later.#and! feel free to ask questions!’ and tell me if it make’s absolutely 0 sense#I do in fact want to be able to tell the story in a way you will understand. so ask questions! give a feedback! /gen /pos#I accidentally. deleted a tag so whatever I was going to say is fucking gone now. oh I think I memerbr#they are out of character ye. I’m sleepy and I’m making their escape au up as I go.#so far I have 1) the box scene was somehow Worse#2) they kidnapped Five (yippee!)#3) Charlie is the most traumatized out of the three. I don’t. I don’t know why.#I think that’s mostly because I didn’t feel like writing a conversation between Three characters. so my brain was like this :#why isn’t Charlie here? sleeping. why are these two not including him in conversation? protectiveness.#why protectiveness? he is the most upset out of the three of them and the other two have basically taken up the caretaker role. great plan#great plan hit the showers. I have reached. max tags. shit oh well back to writing tumblr says so!
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killmebythebeach · 1 year
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Just finished tma. I have to go to fucking school tomorrow. How do I FUCKING BE A PERSON AFTER THAT?!?!
I'll probably reblog with more tags later (cuz 30 just isn't enough) but !!!
#you know the drill tma spoilers in the tags dont read tags unless youve watcged the whole series. statement begins#i never really cry over fiction and that held true but FUCK did i get close when jon said 'that ones for sasha'#ill get to the lamenting but let me talk about my fucking !!! first. helen my beloathed i was so fucking happy when you died#i enjoyed her character imensly but GOD was it satisfying to hear jon say 'helen... was that a lie?' and !!! shes a gaslight girlboss#hearing jude and notsasha get smited was also so good. hmmmm i love how slimy jude sounds and how corparate notsasha sounds too#love the moment when all the acatars jon kills realises theyve fucked up (careful who you bully in middleschool)#and daisy and basira :( never liked those two too much but it was still sad :( basira confuses me from a worldbuilding standpoint#i love it though. shes the only person in daisys domain and i think thats metal as fuck. but seeing trevor and breekon alone made me sad#and annabelle!!! stunning. love her. would die for her. shed let it happen.#that being said i want to punch her so fucking bad. shes the tape recorders?#i saw this post where it was like 'what kind of kid was jon that the web thought hed bring the apocolypse?' and i thought itwas exagerating#georgie and melanie! georgie was a favorite from s3 so im glad we get to see her a bit more! even if shes a... cult leader?#oh :( when jon leaves them to get martin from annabelle and when he comes back the other seven survivors are gone :(#i hate all the arguing though :( i have the nuance of an oreo so seeing my blorbos argue just makes me sad :(#anyway. night night my beloved. recollections my beloved. wonderland my beloved. checking out my beloved. gah!#and the rosie and elias statements!!! ive always wondered about rosie and now i wish i never found out!#and hearing jonah and jon work together on the elias statement sounded SO COOL!!!#with jonah being like the voices of all the people hes inhabited. and all the archivists wandering london like zombies!#i was sort of disapointed jonah wasnt like super hard to defeat but holy shiiiiiiiiiit#i. LOVE. the 200 statement. its like 10 minutes long but i just might have to make an animatic of it.#oh its so fucking cool. i always imagined the web and eye as the smart entity power duo but no.#the web was playing the eye like a cheap whistle the entire time. i guess the eye does need avatars to actually do much#like lonely your alone. end you die. desolation is your fault. spiral is all you. but eye needs people to do stuff with its information#martin and jon. Martin and Jon. MARTIN AND JON.#those fucking idiots. hearing martin enter the room and both him and the listeners realizing what happened felt like ORPHEUS turning around#dude. martin stabbing jon always gets joked about. i thought itd be a light hearted moment or some shit#and hearing the three girls at the end. basiras 'good luck'. gah. just hearing the birds chirping was enough#but i also get to know simon was probably mauled to death by a crowd wich i find hilarious.#jonahs 'good luck' as well. like sir. jonah fucking magnus does not have the right to choke me up.#the magnus archives
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fanaticsnail · 1 month
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"Good Boy"
Masterlist here
Word count: 3,200+
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Synopsis: Eustass Kid didn't know exactly when it happened, but now he craves to be praised by you. He thrives beneath your words, but the one time you didn't call him a "good boy" has him in a bratty rage.
Themes: mutual pining, kid x gn!reader, fluffy, praise kink Kid, he just wants to be a good boy, no kisses just praise.
Notes: it's past 1am where I am, and I physically couldn't get to sleep until I got this request by @remisloves out of my mind. It's all about praise and softening rough characters lately with me. Good night everyone! Sweet blorbo dreams
Tag list: @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry @carrotsunshine
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A shudder erupted from the base of Eustass Kid's spine to the top of his cranium. Downturning his chin, he attempted to disguise how wide his smile had risen to his lips beneath the shadow of his blast goggles. 
Never one to shy away from a challenge, Captain Kid pushed himself to the absolute limit to best his latest opponent. Blood dripping from his body, his bones bent to the point of nearly breaking. The weight of his metal arm overencumbered his body, his brute strength no longer enough to propel his legs forward. 
Successful at last, he claimed their loot in their vast treasury, selecting a few key pieces that caught his eye to present back to you: a former thief, his ships’ appraiser, and now his curator of chronological dialogue, items and routines. 
What would possess this hulking captain to risk his body and his crew to collect this small piece of art to present to you? Why would he ever risk such a heavy physical toll for a mere trinket? 
Because he was a good boy. 
And you always informed him as such.
While Kid saw no need for a chronicler initially, he very quickly warmed to the idea of maintaining one on his payroll. When Massacre Soldier Killer suggested a small snippet of their adventures be cataloged in journals, Kid never knew that reading the words back would prompt a rapid boil beneath his skin. A craving. A need. 
Seeing those words scribed on paper held him hostage. Those doting, praising, uplifting words that held such passionate composition regarding his exploits; they pushed him to go further, drive harder, propell longer in his adventures. This was all in an attempt to dream of seeing more of those beautiful words describing him articulated upon paper. 
Well, his exploits at least. 
Most of all, he craved to hear them depart from your lips. You managed to slip a single verbalized expression of praise once upon his return from doing a menial task. Since then, he was hooked on the rush it brought him. 
“Oh, wow! Captain, you've done so well! So unbelievably well!” was that first door opening to the praise he needed. 
That small snippet from you, was all well and good in his opinion. He did enjoy your recognition of his talent, but it was not what he craved the most. 
And what he wanted the most, was to be told he was, “a good boy.” 
He couldn't explain it, but the thought of hearing those words flee from your lips had his eyelids half-hooded, eyes glazed, pupils blackened and blown, and a droopy smile lazily draw itself up onto his lips. 
You had only ever come close one time to praising him personally, rather than the talent of his exploits. He felt the flutter of his heart rapidly igniting his veins with adrenaline, screaming with his eyes for you to utter the words he so desperately craved. 
And you said it. 
You finally said it today. 
His feet thumped upon the wooden deck, after he hoisted himself over the small opening on the side of the ship. The ‘away team' had finally assembled together and began greeting those who remained behind. 
Rushing to greet your Captain, he shot you a reciprocated, triumphant and winning smile, while happily presenting a small object up to you in the center of his right, flesh hand. 
“You found it? You actually found it?” your eyes widened, reaching your hand out to Kid's extended right palm. His body was still dripping with the blood of his enemies, a visible shake in his fingertips as he elevated the trinket up to you. 
“It nearly cost me my other arm,” he winced through the words, his forearm beginning to twitch beneath the strain of his exhaustion, “But I brought it back for you-...” he halted his words, pondering whether it was now time to make his affections known or not “...-to add to the collection.”
“For me?” your eyes widened, looking at the shiny and ornate gold filigree design. In the center of the flattened piece lay a single garnet: small, something one would cast aside should more items be presented. But to you, a prized piece in an antique collection you had been dedicating your life to find. 
“It's the missing piece, yeah?” Kid smirked, huffing through his words as the rest of the crew assembled atop the Victoria Punk, “The one you told us about last Friday?”
“Honestly, Captain, I don't remember half of what happened last Friday,” you confessed sheepishly, up turning your brows as your fingers brushed against his palm, “You'd think my liver would be able to tolerate being aboard your ship, drinking that slosh alongside the crew by now.”
He barked a cracked cackle at your confession, prompting your own to rise in your chest. His laugh was contagious, a laugh that could be felt through his whole body springing and vibrating up within your own. 
“Thank you, captain,” you expressed your deepest gratitude to the taller man, your head nodding in praise, “You don't know what this means to me.”
After a moment's pause, he looked down at the object before bringing his whisky-coloured eyes back up to meet with your own. He inhaled a shaken breath, baited and waiting within his lungs while anticipating his next words. 
“S-So,” he stuttered over his words, scolding himself under his own anxiety, “Did I do good? Is this the one you needed? Am I a-...” he didn't want to lead you into giving him the praise he desperately sought, but didn't want to not hear it either. 
With all the patience you could muster upon such a triumphant moment in your life, you prompted him with your eyes to have him complete his sentence. 
“...Am I a good-...” trying so, so hard to say the final word, he physically couldn't have them pass his lips, “...-Captain?” He mentally slapped himself, knowing that those were not the words he craved and how stupid that must've made him sound. 
You took a moment to carefully think about your next words, noticing how bruised he was, how bloody his knuckles were, how a lot of the crew that went with him on this private ‘away mission' were faring upon return. 
“Of course you are. You captain us extremely well, sir,” you uttered with a soft smile, “I'll adjust my findings accordingly in the journals, if I may be excused?” 
A small puff of air flew from his lips, defeat almost tangibly thick as it shrouded his shoulders with its presence. He looked away after giving his nod of dismissal, his gaze fixed on the wood of the deck below his feet. 
Your smile widened, claiming the object from his palm and holding your hand within his for a moment longer, before withdrawing completely. Fluttering your eyes over each fixed point of concern on his features, you searched for what his body seemed to be screaming for. 
Thanking him with a curt nod, you turned on your heel and abruptly halted your next step. 
At this moment, it fully dawned on you exactly the words your Captain wanted to hear. Eustass Kid, captain of the Kid pirates, champion and leader of the Victoria punk, devil-fruit user and wielder of Haki… had a praise kink. And he wanted you to praise him. 
A playful smile spread like warm honey up your cheeks, a scrunch in your nose as you rolled your next words over your tongue. You turned your head over your shoulder, guarding your intentions close to your chest as you spoke two words that almost had your Captain fall on his knees in gratitude. 
“Good boy.”
From that moment on, he was simply smitten. No matter what he did, whether it was aiding his crew with carrying supplies, carrying out great acts of violence, defending his Nakama from their enemies, or simply finishing his vegetables at meal time - he would look to you in anticipation, that anticipation being met with those two simple words. 
“Good boy.”
They echoed within his mind, swirling around within the chasms of his brain as slumber eluded him. He did not mind in the slightest having his lack of rest consumed with praises departing from your lips. 
Your voice plagued him, haunted him as a spectral ghost would hunt down their unfinished business. He did not mind such a haunting, in fact: he wanted more. He wanted to have more praise, more compliments, more of your verbal, beautiful words crying out from your perfect lips. 
He was smitten, completely smitten, by your compliments. The way your talented tongue made his name sound, the way your lips curved up in a knowing smirk each time you told him he was a ‘good boy.’
Until the day you didn't. 
Eustass Kid was in a foul mood, one that nobody knew the cause nor the cure for such a horrid, stampeding mess of a captain. Food, ales, meads, even gold - nothing appeared to pry him from his raging temper. Breaking tankards, tipping over tables, scattering documents on his captains’ desk, nothing was safe from the wrath he was wreaking on the furniture. 
Hunched over your desk, you continued cataloging and appraising the latest haul of trinkets and treasures thrust into your office. It was overwhelming for you, the sheer number of items scattered around your room. You attempted to alphabetize them, sort them accordingly and lump them into itemized piles. 
The toll the elevation of work raised onto your shoulders had you dismiss all those who presented you with various finds, including your Captain. He rocked on the ball and heels of his feet, eagerly awaiting and anticipating his sought-after praise - but found nothing but an anxious sigh and scratch of your neck in response to his hard labor. 
This was the reason for his intense rage.
After leaving your office, and selfishly paying no mind to your exhausted expression, he began to spiral.  
“He was so good. Why didn't you tell him he was? Was there something he could've done better? Something he could've pushed harder to strive for?” all circled within his mind as he tore piece after piece of his office apart. 
Several hours had passed, and you carved a hefty chunk of your work apart and managed to get a fair bit done. It was nowhere near complete, but it had you feeling a sense of anxious accomplishment. 
A knock at the door prompted you to raise your chin, eyes panicked and overwhelmed with the amount of work still required to be completed before mealtime. 
“Need help?” The light flickered off the cerulean and pearl colored mask of the first mate, who peeked his head around the doorframe. 
“Please,” you sighed, gesturing to your position kneeling on the ground beside you. Killer promptly entered your office, crouching beside you and sifting through the uncharted treasures still needing to be sorted. 
“What we up to?” he elevated his hand, gesturing out to the various piles in front of you both, “I think I see where they need to go. You written down them all?”
“All recorded in the book, down to the last drooped earpiece,” you confirmed, nodding to the mess in the center of the room, “They just need to be put in the right piles, locked in the treasury, and then we can call it a night. Maybe have an ale, if you're up for it, Kil?”
After a moment's pause, both of you rolling the items in your fingertips and placing them within the according: gold, silver, platinum, gemstone, raw material, ceramic, wearable materials, and weaponry piles. 
“Leave this with me,” Killer uttered, placing a throwing knife within the weaponry stack, “And you go and perform your other job.”
“What other job?” your brows knit with confusion, “I've already done the journalling of the exploits, the timetabling of the crew shift-changes, notarizing the stock we need within the kitchen-.”
“-Oh, no, buckaroo,” you could audibly hear the smirk behind Killer's mask as he teased you, “the other one. The one nobody pays you to do.”
“Which is, champ?” you taunted in return, nudging him with your shoulder roughly against his, “Be specific.”
“The one where you-...” he took this brief pause as an opportunity to sigh in huffed frustration, “...-where you tell our captain he's a good boy. Although, in his current state,” Killer rotated his neck to relieve the tension on his shoulders, “I might even go so far as to suggest you call him a bad one, considering that's exactly how he's behaving.”
Your confusion knit your brow down in the center of your face, your mind focussing on when the last time you praised the puppy you had turned your Captain into. 
“Oh, fuck! I didn't praise him when he brought in the loot!” your eyes widened in shock, promptly rising to your feet and brushing over your pants, “I just got so overwhelmed by the sheer bloody number, I couldn't think of anything else. Oh, I'm an idiot.”
“You're not an idiot,” Killer interrupted you, rising to his own feet and cupping your shoulders in an attempt to halt the rise in your anxiety, “Hell, you're not even dating him. It shouldn't be your job-,” he brushed over your shirt, adjusting the crumpled material to make it more appealing to the eye. 
“-Yet here you are,” he concluded, nodding at you before glancing down at the piles of treasure, “And here I am: the first-mate, the best friend, the confidant. The one who is unable to tear him away from his absolutely shit-house mood, because all he wants is you.”
You attempted to stifle the warm flush that drew itself up to your cheeks. Captain Kid was a tall, broad and intimidating man - those were the three assessments you initially made when you were hired to serve aboard the Victoria Punk. Then you got to know him, and were made privy to truly see who he was beneath the surface. 
The twinkle behind the feral rage, the purity in his unbridled emotions, the lack of restraint in all his advances: you adored him. When he began to seek out your praises, you were immediately swooning at his attention. 
He wanted your words, not just due to the fact words were your job, but because he wanted you to speak them. Just to speak his praises to be granted the luxury of a light tingle in his ears, a blush rise to his cheeks and a smile decorating his lips with such beautiful words. 
Now within the doorframe of your captain's office, you arched your brow and crossed your arms. Leaning on the wooden panel, you continued to watch his chest rise and fall with each exasperated and berzerk breath. Your eyes never left his body, each arch of his back and ripple of his muscles straining under the taut fabrics atop his shoulders. 
“All this because I didn't call you a good boy?” you addressed him in a low and dangerous tone. His feral eyes snapped over to you, widening as he truly witnessed the devastation in the destruction in his office. 
“You've been a bad boy, I see,” you continued in your dark tone, promptly stepping into his office and closing the door behind you, “Look at all this mess. Tsk, naughty.” 
The click of your tongue had Kid arching his back, straightening his spine as he bit back a soft whimper. His brows triangulated in the center of his face, bottom lip now quivering under the weight of your disciplinary tone. 
Circling his body, fingers brushing against his large right hand beside his hip as you leaned into him. You shook your head, stooping down and beginning to collect the paper, stationary, tankards, and paperweights that had been flung against the floor. 
Before you could say a following, disciplinary word, Kid immediately fell onto his knees and began hurriedly picking up the items he threw onto the ground beside you. 
“I-I’ll pick it all up,” he nodded his head as to confirm his words further, “I'll tidy up all this shit. Please, I-I’m sorry. I just-.”
“-Just wanted to be praised, hm?” you hummed at him. He hid his head from view, his painted lips pouting while his eyes held their attention firmly against the mess. 
He nodded, the weight of finally admitting his craving lifting off his chest and shoulders as he received the items you were holding atop the stack he was forming. 
“Tidy up your mess, handsome,” you smiled, elevating your right hand to capture his pointed chin within your thumb and index finger, “I'll watch every step you take, and let you know how good you're being, if you do it properly.”
Kid’s breath caught in his lungs, a pink dust settled against his cheeks and ears. He hurriedly rose to his feet, up-turning his askew desk and dusting off his captains’ chair. He extended it outwards, wordlessly and politely gesturing for you to take a seat. 
“My, my,” you commented, rising to your feet and accepting his invitation, “Such a gentleman, you're being. But, you've gotta’ work a little bit harder to earn that title you crave.”
Captain Eustass Kid was a dutiful, whimpering puppy under your watchful eyes. He was, almost, happily rearranging all of the objects he had thrown askew. He even took the time to appropriately categorize the pages he didn't complete prior to his little tantrum.
“Hm, very good. Well done picking up after yourself.” He blushed further at your words, but craved so much more. 
“Oh, look at how much time you're taking on that bookshelf. I can even see how clean you're making each of the panels. Look at you go, big boy.” That praise had him whimpering, his eyes fluttering shut as he continued to clean in silence. 
“So strong, picking up that heavy weight all by yourself. So proud of you.” He could not stop the audible gasp, nor the rush of blood seeping to places they had no business in flooding to at that moment. 
He completed all this while glancing over his shoulder and thriving beneath the giddy feeling rushing to his chest upon being the center of your unwavering gaze. 
Upon the last paperweight being placed and straightened atop his desk, he knelt between your knees and glanced up into your eyes. He looked innocent of all wrongdoing, all prior anger and malice fleeing from within his silent pleading. 
He was desperate for those words, those two simple little words that he so yearned for. Noseying up further between your knees, his shuddering metal and flesh hands cautiously placed themselves gently on your calves. 
Soft and slow circles were traced against your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as they began twinkling with hope. All his mind was screaming, silently and internally, was a simple repetition of: “Please, please, please. Say it, say it, say it.”
And you obliged him by leaning down, caressing his left, scarred cheek and drawing your lips close enough to taste the tingle of his breath upon your skin. Hovering before contact was made, you floated your gaze between his whisky-hued orbs and his parted lips with a soft smile. 
“Good boy.”
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angelltheninth · 5 months
Note
perhaps a fem reader training with mizu and somehow lands herself in a position where she’s on top of mizu and almost straddling her face? mizu is rather happy with how reader looks on top of her and even throws a few teasing comments
A few teasing comments? I want her to do a whole book worth of them.
Pairing: Mizu x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, very suggestive, established relationship, sparing, teasing, lots of sexual talk, thigh kissing/licking/biting, flustered!Reader, Mizu is a tease
Word count: 0.8k
Ao3
A/N: There's something... I don't know, I haven't been this downbad, this feral for a character in a very long time. Go easy on me, I can't write fight scenes to save my blorbos life. Also feel free to be downbad with me in the comments/reblogs, please I need to know I'm not alone in this.
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Mizu stood her ground, her eyes watching you like a wolf as you inched closer and closer to her. Your eyes should be on her stance, on her sword, paying attention to her body, but they weren't. They weren't even on her eyes. They were on her lips because she was smiling, she was having a good time sparing with you.
There was no opening for you to exploit. You couldn't half-ass this either, you promised her a good workout. Mizu's eyes moved from your hands to your face, to your legs, mildly distracted by your bare thigh. That was different kind of opening, but you could take advantage of it, after all this was still a fight, and anything was fair.
You charged forward, Mizu met you half-way there, the swords parrying against each other, moving to the side as you tried to shove her back with your shoulder. "Eyes up here." You warned as a joke when her eyes drifted a little lower.
"If I want to fight you I need to keep my eyes on your feet. It's not my fault that that outfit you chose is... revealing." Mizu taunted back. Instead of moving back from her slice you ducked, grabbed her wrist and tried to throw her over your shoulder. She wouldn't have let you if you didn't grind back against her in the way you did. The impact wasn't what made her grunt, it was the fact that you held the tip of your katana over her face, while balancing yourself over her chest. "Behind you."
"That's not gonna wo-" You felt the cold metal of the blade press against your throat. It was the back of it but still. You were at a standstill. "Draw?"
"Oh I don't know." Her sword moved from your neck and she placed it beside herself, you did the same, "From where I am it looks like I won." You were confused until you felt her hands run up your thighs and pull you closer to her.
Wearing a parted yukata was a mistake. You thought it would an advantage but it turned out that the only one who was at a disadvantage is you. It was hot out and it seemed like a good idea, you knew Mizu would look but you didn't think she'd do this too. "L-Like I said. My eyes are up here."
"Uhuh. What I want is down here though." Your mouth feel open in disbelief as hers pressed against your inner thigh. Parting your thighs further was entirely subconscious and said a lot about you as well. "If you wanted to be in a position like this you should have been honest. You know I like having you like this."
It was a struggle to keep still on top of her because her hands kept caressing so slowly, her lips kept switching from kissing to sucking a bruise higher, then lower, the soother with her warm tongue, all the while she kept glancing up at you. Almost as if she was daring you to move, or testing your will to stand still. "You're a pervert."
She didn't conform or deny, she was too busy moving to your other thigh, her lips a little bit softer now. "I'm not the one with my legs spread open." Her thumb slowly revealed more of your skin. The warmth of her tongue came dangerously close to where you didn't want to admit you needed it most. "I'm also not the one who is dripping wet right now."
"Mizu! I'm not!" At least you hoped you weren't. You tried to scramble away from her with no success. All that did was make her tighten her hold on your thigh and pull you even closer. Your eyes followed the way her tongue wet her lips.
If she leaned in just a little more her mouth would be right on your...
"Get up."
"Huh?" When you didn't move, too gobsmacked to, Mizu pushed you away lightly. As you sat there, worked up and now quite a bit horny Mizu simply stretched her arms above her head and sheathed her sword. "You... you just..."
"Hm? What did I do love?" Oh, so now she acted all innocent, blinking at you like she had no idea how horny she just made you. "Oh don't fuss, I just want to do this somewhere private. Unless you're more dirty minded than I thought. Or maybe you don't actually want-"
You almost tackled her as you wrapped your hands around her arm. It totally wasn't so you could walk straight because your legs were shaking too much. It totally wasn't because you tugged her along to get to your house faster so you could get rid of your clothes and continue where you left off.
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victoirey · 1 year
Note
hiii! just trying to see if any avatar fic writers will do anything like this. can you write a jake x na'vi!reader x neytiri? if not, totally okay! :))
♡. "you were already ours." —
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synopsis / general headcanons of how you and my blorbos met and some romantic hcs
gn!na'vi!reader | I've been getting quite a couple of polyamory requests lately— and I'd just like to tell you I'm extremely happy about that. thank you. I hope this lives up to your expectations, nonnie! [ 1 am maggie crawls into bed in the background , yawning ]
tags : @stomach-bugg09 @somerandomweeb2 @loaqi @mylovelo-ak
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👏 okay let's get this goin
you grew up with neytiri, sylwanin and tsu'tey. you were just a friendly na'vi— looking for kids to play with, looking for games to laugh about— and somehow, someway, it was neytiri you bumped into. the second daughter of the olo'eyktan , and of course you were intimidated! neytiri was young and yet she had alot of potential— and also she was unbearably pretty. like, literally mostly she was just... really, really pretty. your mouth went dry when you bumped into her, but she only excused you with a curt nod of her head and an "it is alright."
you didn't know what was going through your mind as you stayed there, next to her— you didn't know what was going through your mind as you asked her, "would you like to play games with me?"
all you know is that three minutes in, you were both laughing. together. sylwanin & tsu'tey saw you, and let me tell you they were flabbergasted. they also saw the sparks of chemistry appearing between the two of you, and as they looked at eachother one last time — they ran into join your game.
that, ladies, gents, & variations thereof, is how a beautiful friendship began. a friendship , long lasting and getting through every problem with communication and maybe violence ! ( but only if you got hurt intentionally by some stupid bullies!! )
still, amidst the fights, amidst the laughter, amidst the unintelligible screaming— it was peaceful.
until the humans came.
you were foolish to believe humans could have some competence in them, back then.
grace taught the four of you, and you watched as your friends progressed and you witnessed yourself learn and grow— she taught you about humans, and you found yourself interested in them. more than any of your other friends.
you watched as sylwanin and tsu'tey fell inlove in the hold of the classroom.
you watched as neytiri playfully whacked tsu'tey, giving him a shovel talk— telling him , that if he ever hurt sylwanin— he'd die.
you watched as sa'nok taught your class stories of Earth, and you watched as her smile faltered when you asked if you could visit.
so many memories.
all in the hold of that classroom.
so why did it all have to go wrong?
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"SYLWANIN!" neytiri screamed, in anguish. the entirety of the classroom went silent, the only noises heard being the ringing of your ears and the bullets and the bombs and the screams and the— and the cries. neytiri & tsu'tey were crying over sylwanin's corpse, held by tsu'tey— "oh, what do I do?!" tsu'tey cried— voice cracking near every word he spoke. neytiri could only look at her sister as tears fell.
why did this happen?
if they had never set the bulldozer on fire, would anything have changed? would anything have changed? perhaps the location, perhaps the time — but it would've still happened sooner or later.
that's what expected of humans, isn't it?
humans will always be greedy.
all of this would've happened. nothing would change.
but you still wish it happened later.
different location. different time. different year. different minute. different second.
just ... different.
that way,
as you kneel down to sylwanin's dead body, holding her hand and tearing up,
you wouldn't have had to experience this so young.
more time with sylwanin, was all you asked. more time. more smiles. more laughs. more hugs. it embodied all you needed. more time.
it was all you ever asked.
"why?!" you screamed, head placed onto sylwanins cold skin. "WHY DO YOU TAKE HER FROM US, O EYWA?!" tsu'tey flinched. you collapsed onto the dirt, sobbing.
why, Eywa?
why?
and yet, still,
life goes on.
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life goes on.
sylwanin is gone, neytiri becomes the tsakarem — neytiri is left without a sister, mo'at and eytukan lost a daughter— and tsu'tey, a love. now, he is betrothed to her sister— both miserably tied to their fates. they accept it later on, but it still hurts. with everyone settling into their new statuses, the training gets harsher— the words cut deeper, and the knives get sharper. your clan bares their fangs at the sky people now. nevertheless, you grow. you continue to love. you continue to hope.
— and your hope was not for nothing.
for, as you hunt— you find jake sully.
you almost shoot him , yeah, but you know— in this angle particularly he looked like a viperwolf— and yet the spirit on your bow stops you.
Eywa has judged him first.
and she has deemed him adequate.
you cannot intervene.
it is you who saves him.
"why?" he asks.
"why did I save you?" you repeat, he nods. you think over it for a bit, but you find an answer.
"... you have a good heart. no fear."
he looks flattered, for a while. then, you, realizing that you probably inflated this douchebags ego, decided to follow up with a quick jab—
"but you are too loud. needed to shut you up."
his smile drops.
your smile forms.
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"jeez, you're a bitch—" jake mutters, after having heard your many insults. they pierce through his ego, and your eyes pierce through his heart— because they're just that pretty. you're that pretty. you're like a pretty bitch! you're so his type. "and you are a baby." you bite back, he raises his hands in surrender. you smirk.
direhorses surround you, and spears raise as neytiri runs to you— shielding you from the false bodied demon. "mawey, neytiri!" you say, and jake is extremely confused. it seems you're defending him, which you are, because you are not going to let someone judged by Eywa rightfully— die just like that. neytiri looks at you confused, and slightly offended.
tsu'tey's eye twitches, and he compells his direhorse to step forward— he tilts his head looking down on you. " what did the sky demon do to you ? do not tell me you have been brainwashed , y/n. " he spits. neytiri looks at you , suspiciously. jake just stands there because to you, that's all he's apparently good for.
as you look at all the hunters around you, sneering and snarling as their horses neigh and their hands hold on tight to their bows, you gulp.
damn, you've got lots of explaining to do.
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neytiri takes him to the oloeyktan and tsahik— and you testify for him. you defend his will, his name — and by the will of Eywa, mo'at sees truth in your defense. with that, the trial is ended— and you & neytiri are placed in charge of jake.
while neytiri groans in complaint, as the person who found him— you have no choice to comply.
with that, the story flows on like the movie does— however, there are a teensy bit of difference— oh, what's that? you'd like to see those differences? okay, darlings!
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you & neytiri watch as jake, once again, collapses onto the dirt after attempting to jump through the trees once more. he smiles awkwardly, trying to play it off, and you flick his forehead. you tell him, "you must try once more, jake. the sky people always says practice turns you perfect."
"well, it's practice makes perfect, but you got the gist." jake corrects, as he goes off to try again. neytiri looks at you, disappointed but not surprised. "he is hopeless." she says, you reply— "he is just emptyheaded."
"na'vi." neytiri repeats, and jake is extremely confused. he's been saying it right , so why do you two keep saying he's pronouncing it wrong? "na'vi." he repeats. "na'viii." you emphasize, and jake is really on his last straw with you two. "nar'viiii." he repeats, and that earns two whacks on the head. each.
seze perches herself onto the tree, and neytiri shushes jake. "do not look into her eye." you advise, and jake complies — seze roars, and that sends jake falling flat on his fucking ass. he blinks, surprised, and you — start laughing uncontrollably. he has to process this for a bit, but seconds after— you and jake are having ongoing banter while neytiri giggles at every word you two say.
neytiri observes you two as you lean into jake, correcting his posture. he looks at you, and you back away on instinct— a teensy bit flustered. it is then she is consumed by thought, she's never felt these emotions before— not for you, her lifelong bestfriend — and not for jake, a demon in a false body, either. so why is she feeling shimmyflys in her belly? why do they wriggle whenever you three all interact? why do they jump at your smiles?
Eywa gives her the answer, tired by her incessant denial.
she was inlove.
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so. yeah. yadayadayadayadayada jake & neytiri mate you get left in the dust but are content with seeing both of them happy together but then THEN
the war happens.
everything tumbles down. graces death— oh god, graces death hurt you so. even then, life went on.
life went on, and you thought it'd keep going on— until a bullet went through your chest. it missed the heart, but god, it went through your chest.
you cant imagine the looks on jake and neytiri's faces as you were being tended to, how jake held your right hand while neytiri held your left— how jake realized, in this moment, he loved you. how neytiri realized— she couldn't have just one mate. she needed two.
the spirit landing on her hand, and then yours, and then jakes— confirmed that.
as she looked at her mate knowingly and vice versa, they nodded at eachother.
they couldn't lose you.
you were theirs. you were always theirs.
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[ SCREMAMAMSMAMMSMAS ] IM SICK OF BUILDING THE RELATIONSHIP GOD OKAY HERES SOME HEADCANONS
the three of you ? head over heels for eachother. but like, subtly. you guys will show your love through forehead touches, cheek caresses, pecks to the cheek even if you're feeling a little bold. you do not openly show your affection to the clan of which you three are in charge of. you prefer to keep the love indoors, where no one can witness ( and feel single about )
neytiri smiles proudly whenever she sees you and jake, honored that she has mates as talented as you— everytime you come back from a hunt, neytiri greets you with a kiss.
neytiri , in all her gentleness , has a bite to her. when she hears your name, spat on and insulted— she sees red and feels a desperate need to protect you. and she does. she hisses at anyone who dares try and hurt you, bow in hand and fangs bared as she stands by you protectively.
she shows her love through physical means, in private you three are attached at the hip— neytiri holding you the tightest, fearing that if she loosens her grip, she may never feel your heartbeat again.
neytiri likes to braid your hair!! every chance she gets, she does. her fingers feel so good on your head— and as she does her magic, you are on cloud 9 because EYWA this woman's hands can DO things
jake, however, is an idiotic chaotic himbo man dude that happened to tame a toruk .... and go on to gather all the clans for a battle against the sky people and win that battle but yk whatever he's still an idiotic chaotic himbo man dude. whenever you kiss him, his mind just goes blank . he just goes " omg my mate my mate my mate" because he LOVES THE BOTH OF YOU SO MUCh.
jake is also very loveydovey!! he'll dance with you and neytiri in the moonlight, and you guys fly through the skys near everyday as a destresser. jake loves dates, as he loves you.
he's ready to defend your honor at any given moment. any second. he will defend you.
he's also got a nice voice and his love language is words of affirmation. yk what that means.
"y/n, look at me." jake asked, you obliged— "y/n, you and neytiri are my everything. nothing could ever stop me from loving you. so don't you dare say that things would stay the same if we had never gotten into a relationship. everything would change. neytiri & I would constantly feel like something was missing, y/n." he said, and neytiri , who left open mouthed kisses on your skin— hummed in agreement. all three of your queues had connected – and as you fully processed your love, you couldn't help but get a bit emotional.
jake was a man of many, smart words. if he thought hard enough.
as you looked at jake and neytiri, both infinitely beautiful and skilled warriors— you couldn't help but realize how lucky you were.
"I love you." you said, on instinct. "I love you two , so much."
neytiri looked at you through hooded eyes, and smiled. "I love you, ma'y/n."
jake , unbelievably overwhelmed with the feeling of the bond by now— could only stutter out his response. a contrast to the usual sure and confident toruk makto: "i- I love you."
how cute.
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melodygatesauthor · 1 year
Note
Since I know my baby loves Kylo Ren, let’s do smut prompt 33 “Oh, can you feel this?”
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Inappropriate Use of the Force
Kylo Ren X Reader
Yes bb I DO love Kylo teehee. Just look at him! The hair, the eyebrows, all of it. Can't get enough haha. Thank you for the prompt <3 This also means that I've now officially written one prompt for each blorbo! Yay!
Tags/Warnings: NSFW, smut, p in v creampie, literal inappropriate use of the Force
Word Count: 486
“Yes, just like that.” Kylo groaned, fucking into your mouth.
You gagged over his large cock, feeling the girth stretching your lips. You held on to his hips for stability, gripping tightly. He was guiding you, hand on the side of your head. He brushed your cheek with his thumb softly. No matter how cruel he could be, he had a way of making you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in the whole galaxy.
You reached down between your legs, feeling your own arousal becoming unbearable. You plunged your fingers deep into your slick cunt, sliding them over your walls. Kylo looked down at you and smirked.
“What a desperate, needy little thing you are.” He cooed, never stopping his churning into your throat.
You saw his free hand start moving very slightly. You suddenly felt your hands, against their will, pinned behind your back firmly. You groaned over his length.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get what you need.” He was still carrying an air of amusement in his tone, “can you feel this?”
He continued shifting his fingers, and very quickly you felt something invisible and phallic filling your soaking wet channel. You pulled your mouth off his cock, expelling a loud moan into the room before he forced you back over it.
“Oh yes, it looks like you can.”
You were making a slew of primal sounds while you continued pleasing him. He continued moving the unseen cock deep inside of you, sliding it over your walls. You felt something else, another invisible Force snaking up your inner thigh and circling around your clit.
You squealed around his shaft, forcing a barely audible moan from his lips. Of course this would drive him crazy, seeing you, a completely muffled and moaning mess by his hand. It was an odd, but indescribably wonderful sensation to have your hole filled and clitoris flicked over while sucking Kylo Ren’s thick cock. 
“Are you satisfied now?” He asked, exhaling sharply while you continued gagging over him.
All you could do was make an incoherent noise of approval while he kept going. At this rate, you weren’t going to last much longer, and by the way his cock was getting harder, you could tell he was close too. Within just moments, he was coming down your throat in thick, hot spurts.
He released your head, and you fell back to the ground, a moaning, wet mess while the invisible cock continued fucking you through your own orgasm. You had to scream, begging him to release you as you squirmed from oversensitivity until finally he let you go, collapsing into a heap on the floor.
He walked over and stood next to you, towering.
“Go clean yourself up, unless you want to meet with the Supreme Council looking like that?” One of his eyebrows quirked upward at the thought.
You smirked, “maybe I do.”
Melody's Birthday Celebration - Submissions Closed
Celebration Masterlist
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spotforme · 1 month
Text
this post is for my sanity only
i'm actually so facinated by people having the same or very similiar takes on Rimmer as i've seen people have of the Captain, and like, they're correct. these two dead, repressed, traumatizes, snarky, military fuck-ups do share quite a bit of personality, so i get why some takes and headcannons would be similiar. but still, seeing the excact same take on a new blorbo that i held for an old blorbo is super freaky. and now that i'm aware of it i have come to a realisation that scares me a bit, and it is that rimster is just patcap in space.
oh my fucking god do you know what i've just realized? Cat.. Kitty. i can't make this up.
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the-force-awakens · 3 months
Note
Thinking about what a sweet, kind, silly and gentle hearted person Poe is until you piss him off and once that switch is flipped, he's a force to be reckoned with
Oh, did you mean? my most favorite? facet? of his character? that makes me lose my marbles? and also happens to be maybe my favorite character trope of all time? that? Okay I hope you were expecting an infodump because what-ho! that's what's happening, I have come prepared and with receipts, let's fucking go on how Poe Dameron is a goddamned force of nature and how the galaxy should be really fucking thankful his loyalty is first and foremost to the Resistance and to the Light, because if it wasn't...well, I'd dread to think, but it wouldn't be good for anyone else.
The fun thing for me, is that it has always been a part of Poe's character, right from The Force Awakens -- it's subtle, but it's there, hidden between the sassy quips in the face in danger and the professionality of Commander Dameron; little fleeting moments that tell you that Poe Dameron is not someone to be trifled with at all, including one of his very first scenes:
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I'm 90% certain that Poe's gaze actually lands first on Tekka's body here, before lifting it up to glare at Ren - and that's more than just a defiant glare, that's a look of loathing. Which fits, considering that I do believe the Force Awakens novelization confirms that Poe rushes in without thinking, and acts on sheer anger/rage when he goes to shoot Ren after Ren kills Tekka.
(More lengthy thoughts under the cut, I was not kidding, I saved a dozen images for this).
And that look is far from the only moment in TFA that clearly goes "oh. yeah, Poe can be scary when he wants to be", there's this frankly delightful moment during the trench run when Poe sees a fellow pilot perish while covering him:
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and then moments later, when Poe flies into the heart of Starkiller to destroy the oscillator, we get this shot:
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that's far more than just determination/focus, he's angry. and he has every goddamned right to be - he was just held captive and tortured for (??) days, and this monstrosity just destroyed an entire fucking planetary system, and the very Republic that Poe has spent his entire adult life believing the inherent values of, that he thought could genuinely improve. Never mind the detail that Poe probably likely spent time on the Hosnian System, if he didn't live there temporarily during his time in the Defense Fleet.
But these shots makes it clear where the comic gets the idea from that the First Order might, y'know, actually be. A little bit terrified of Poe Dameron:
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He's a serious threat, and ruthless when it comes to the First Order. People joke a lot about Poe being reckless, but I don't see a lot of recognition for the fact that he can be ruthless - he sees point b and dives straight at it, and he's absolutely relentless in his determination to take the First Order down.
The quickest possible way to enrage Poe is inaction or injustice. We see this clearly in the Last Jedi, when he believes Holdo is essentially leading them to their deaths and has thrown the Resistance away:
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but we also see it as far back as Before the Awakening by Greg Rucka:
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This conversation carries on for a page or so more, I think, with Poe arguing against the New Republic's decision to not act or investigate further (it's also what prompts him into going rogue to investigate on his own, which leads Leia into recruiting him for the Resistance).
And we've even seen it in material as recent as Free Fall, which means this is a character trait Poe has had his entire life:
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(these do not paint my girl in a great light but like she's fucked up okay!! and being groomed into taking her mother's place it's fine, it's fine, she's my fucked up little blorbo)
anyway. so this is Poe when he's, probably about 16? 16 going on 17 here, and this is probably the angriest he's ever been considering how shocked he is about the chill in his own voice (which if you were ever curious why I say Poe's anger runs cold, it's because of this scene right here). He's so enraged by the injustice being carried out by Sotin, that he's genuinely - for the first time in the book - considering actually killing someone. And he gets into a screaming match about what the right decision is with Zorii.
(he also gets to punch Sotin later, by the way, if you even care. It's glorious. I love my favorite character who decides murder is okay if said murder is in question a guy who deals in the slave trade)
But also.
My favorite instance of this, ever, which rewrote my fucking goddamned brainchemistry in 2017 when I read it and made me have to step away from my computer and honest to god pace the length of my house to walk it off, is his confrontation with Terex in issue #13 of the Poe comics.
Because you know what?
This entire fucking exchange is personal, and almost/pretty much outright vindictive? Like at this point, Poe has solidly won this round - Terex has finally been defeated, and all Poe has to do is hand him over to the First Order. He knows, in doing so, Terex will likely be killed, and after who knows how long of Terex's bullshit meaning Poe couldn't trust his squadron, and the fact that L'ulo just died - well, Poe's not real broken up about it, which is fun in itself.
But then he asks Malarus if he can have a moment with Terex before he hands him over and Poe....uses that moment to gloat.
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And y'all know me i don't use words like that for Poe but like. he kind of does? he asks a moment alone with terex specifically so that he can taunt Terex that he won, that Terex didn't beat him, and that in trying to take Poe down, Terex cost himself everything (a fact Poe happily rubs in his face), and even adds that "and when I give you to the First Order, I bet they'll take the rest."
So like. Yeah.
Poe knew full well they'd likely kill him, and spends the next few issues full heartedly believing that Terex was dead. And he taunts Terex with it here in this moment. It is TRULY glorious and honestly had 17 year old me's little head spinning because it was such a subversion of what I thought Poe would do -- but he did! He didn't try to figure out a way to spare Terex's life, and he used his final moments with Terex to make sure Terex knew that Poe was fully aware of what the choice he was making meant.
It's fucking DELICIOUS.
And I also love this panel from earlier into the issue:
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Because again, it's a great illustration of how Poe can come off cold because of the art choices Phil Noto made here: look at the jacket. It's zipped up all the way to Poe's neck (a rarity for Poe), and just generally gives him this very closed off, cold appearance because he's at his wit's end in this issue, and he is angry about the circumstances Terex has forced him into.
So...yeah. Poe Dameron is a sweet, compassionate, silly guy who makes the worst fucking puns you've ever heard this side of the galaxy. He loves his droid, wears his mother's wedding ring with the intent to give it to the right partner someday, and loves all of his friends full heartedly and is generally the most tactile, affectionate person you will ever meet. He's pretty much everyone's best friend, because he has that kind of charisma and ability to make anyone feel like they're the most important person in the galaxy.
But Poe Dameron is also the man that the First Order seems genuinely intimidated/afraid of. He's the man that destroyed Starkiller base, and toppled the most powerful crime syndicate in the galaxy when he was just 17 years old. He is not someone you ever, ever want to piss off, because for all his warmth and love, Poe has an anger that runs cold, and when he hates something - it's just like when he loves something, he doesn't go half-way.
General Organa isn't the only Resistance general that can be absolutely terrifying in her own right as much as she can be gentle and loving. It's just that Leia's the only one anyone ever notices, because...well, Poe's silly and funny and usually kind of easy going.
And the fact that people underestimate him is what makes him that much more dangerous.
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alpaca-clouds · 4 months
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Okay, let me explain!
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Okay, you know what? Given that at least one person (hey there, @vengencefilledwriter) say after my shitpost yesterday, that they wanted to read about this... let me talk about how I very randomly started shipping Astarion with Themberchaud.
Because, yes. It is a crack ship in many ways. However, I will maintain that it actually totally makes sense.
And yes, Themberchaud is the chubby dragon from Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves. I kinda talked about him a bit before (but tumblr search cannot be assed to show that to me), so...
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See, me shipping the two arose from Wishing Well, the Astarion-centric longfic I am writing right now (which is also the sequel to Voice of the Voiceless). The story takes place about a year after the end of BG3 and centers around Astarion and Tav finally visiting the other vampire spawn, who in this have simply settled the Grymforge, after it was abandoned by the duergar.
Given the story takes place completely in the Underdark and features a conflict centered around the duergar, I thought it would be a fun little thing to have Themberchaud show up at some point as a cameo.
Yeah, I thought wrongly.
Because then I started the research on Themberchaud, and oh boy, let me tell you guys, this dragon is actually such a poor little blorbo who in truth just needs a big ol' hug!
Yes, yes, I see you there, muttering: "But red dragons are chaotic evil." To which I just say: "Sssssssh! Listen!"
Themberchaud...
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Okay, even if you play DnD there is a very high chance that you never really encountered Themberchaud, because he is kinda locked into one place: Gracklstugh. The duergar city in the north of the underdark. And while the movie kinda plays his fatness as cute and funny, actually it is in his case super tragic!
See, Themberchaud is a slave. Because the duergar's masterful weapons can only be created in dragonfire, which is why for so many hundreds of years they have held themselves a dragon slave. The current one is Themberchaud.
Of course, given that dragons by nature have a rather big ego, they know well enough to not let him know that he is a slave. He has all the servants he wants, gets gold for his hoards and unlucky adventurers to feast on, and all they ask of him in return is that he keeps their forges running.
Well, and just to make extra sure that he plays along, they use some of the psychic powers they have gotten from their millennium of illithid enslavement to keep him content.
The fact that he got fed so much without having to hunt for it, is what made him so fat. And in fact that came as a bonus for the duergar, because the fact is, that Themberchaud has become so fat that he could no longer leave his hoard and hence very unabel to flee or fight back.
But dragons get stronger as they age and as such it becomes harder and harder to keep him controlled. Which is why he was supposed to suffer the same fate as all the other dragon slaves before: Get killed.
Something went wrong however. We just do not know what. Only that for some reason by the time the movie takes place, Themberchaud has somehow managed to escape Gracklstugh. But something is very clearly wrong with him. Because for one, he does not seem to have any capacity for reason in the movie - and also... his dragonfire somehow does not work. And remember: The duergar kept him for his fire.
Now, maybe his mind got just melted away by the psychic magic. Who knows. But yeah, that is the backstory there.
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Okay, did I successfully get you invested in the story of the poor dragon? Yeah?
Hopefully. Let me just talk about why I ended up shipping him with the sad vamprie boy. Which kinda brings me back to why Themberchaud did not just remain a cameo in Wishing Well. Because I was planning the story and hence researching, I realized something: Astarion and Themberchaud are weirdly similar.
They both were slaves for around two hundred years and barely know anything but slavery.
Their respective masters used mindcontrol of them, which would logically lead to them both having trouble to even know who they are. Were they begin and the mind control end.
Both of them were abused by their masters through food. While Astarion was starved, Themberchaud was overfed. But both is still abuse through food!
Their enslavement ended through some circumstance (which for Themberchaud is still unknown) the plan of their respective masters to kill them failed.
Throughout their enslavement they were kept from the sun. (Note: While it is not explicitly said for Themberchaud that he wants to escape the underdark to see the sun, there is some implication for that.)
Like, those are actually fairly strong parallels. Something that undoubtedly was not intended by anyone, because I kinda doubt anyone at Larian even had Themberchaud in mind, when they were creating Astarion.
Never the less: Those are parallels.
And those parallels made me decide against the Themberchaud cameo......... in so far that instead of being a cameo, he literally becomes the sixth ranger in Wishing Well. Because he and Astarion pretty much talk to each other for like 1 hour and instantly are like: *scream* "BESTIES!!!" With Astarion afterwards being very unwilling to abandon the big dragon once more.
I will spare you the shenanigans that happen afterwards, but let me just put it like this: When they get granted a wish, Themberchaud gets turned into the more handy form of a dragonborn, which allows him to travel to the surface world. Because, you know, see the sun for himself.
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Yes, yes, I hear you once again: "But that is just what happens in your fic!" Which, yes, sure. You are right. But you know what?
I still totally think that the two of them would totally at least platonically hit it off if they were ever going to meet. Because they just are so darn similar in their dramatic backstories as runaway slaves whose masters were trying to kill them.
Like, just look at all the bonding potential there!
What I love about it too, is that it has Astarion in the role of a caretaker for someone. Like, people (well, mostly Tav) took care of him, when he needed it and now he is capable to support someone else who has lived through similar shit.
You understand me? ALL THE HURT/COMFORT POTENTIAL!!! JUST LOOK AT ALL THE POTENTIAL?
And yes, in case you are wondering: No, Astarion does not break it off with my Tav in that stuff. Because polyshipping is a thing xD And that polycule is already just a bit bigger.
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And, just... Look people. I JUST WANT MY BLORBOS TO BE HAPPY TOGETHER, ALRIGHT?! *feral*
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myfairkatiecat · 22 days
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Keefe (for bingo)
AHELDHKAUSHDKJAAHJSSHAKSBDKHSKSDSHAJAHDLDUSBSKSJSHALSHDHSKA
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OK I CONTRADICTED MYSELF A LOT SO LET ME EXPLAIN
this is my favorite character of all time in any media, right up there with Anakin Skywalker from Star Wars, Nicholas & Nathaniel Benedict from TMBS (showverse) and Lancelot from bbc Merlin. Actually probably slightly above all those characters which is SAYING SOMETHING.
Is he comic relief? Yes.
Would I be his friend? Yes.
Has he done nothing wrong? Yes!! No he’s done many things wrong he’s so precious to me ok but the law he’s broken the law I love him so much he literally betrayed his friends I will always love him he has sooo much to answer for I’m glad Sophie forgives him after she chews him out she should chew him out longer but I suppose Fitz does that for her He has so many apologies to make but like he’s also done nothing wrong look I’m aware of my blorbo’s mistakes he’s honestly not as problematic as the tumblr fandom makes him out to be sometimes, and I MEAN that, but he’s also not as perfect and sweet as the eleven year olds on Wattpad make him out to be. He’s a LOT okay, you can’t analyze Keefe Sencen without the everything
Are my opinions unpopular? Yep! The other keefe girlies hate my opinions bc I acknowledge his character flaws and the Keefe haters hate my opinions bc I acknowledge the fact that he’s NOT an antagonist and actually has a lot of really good traits, and that’s NOT me making excuses. Also what are y’all on about saying he doesn’t get held accountable for his actions, like yeah Sophie forgives him pretty fast but not until she’s yelled at him, and the rest of his friends do NOT bounce back to normal (Fitz)
Do I relate to him? Yes, unfortunately. I have Fitz’s trauma and Keefe’s coping mechanisms (they aren’t good coping mechanisms but they’re literally mine)
Is the fandom wrong about him? Yes, the Keefe fans and Keefe haters alike. Don’t flatten this guy there’s SO MUCH THERE. (I’m not talking about my Keefe-negative mutuals—if I follow you, you didn’t flatten his character, I am very serious about Keefe Sencen)
Do I want to adopt him? YES I mean I’m literally his age but if I was old enough to adopt him I totally would, get that kid away from Cassius Sencen and kill Gisela Sencen. Honestly tho I’d settle for an Elwin adoption, dad!Elwin rocks
Did he need less screen time? *sighs in resigned Keefe fan* probably…objectively…yes…
Did canon do him dirty? I debated filling in this one. Because Shannon has made him a SUPER complex character. But also I swear if the ending of stellarlune isn’t the last time he steals something from Sophie to carry out a reckless plan he told no one about, I’ll riot. Don’t give him forward character progress and then erase it! If it’s a momentary relapse of bad habits I’ll allow it but I’m starting to want Shannon to let Keefe grow from all of that. Cause she keeps letting him get better—and then slip back. (Which isn’t unrealistic and I can work with!! I love him! But SHANNON PLEASE)
Do I want to study him? I want to get a full on PhD in this guy’s character arc actually
Did he need more screen time? Heh. Uh. Objectively NO. But also this amount of page time has allowed us to learn so much about his character complexities?? Like I’m torn between missing the other characters and eating up his character arc. Currently I’m gonna hope book 10 expands the other characters more bc I need more of them and 9.5 can feed my Keefe brain
Would I hit him with a golf cart? Listen my friend made this bingo game (hi Bods, if you’re reading this) and I know exactly what the actual intention was behind this square. But like. I want to slightly run into him with a golf cart. Just enough to slightly injure him and make him rethink his life choices (affectionate) (actually in the words of@phtalogreenpoison “I’d like to microwave Keefe. Just shortly”)
Does he need therapy? OH MY GOSH YES. I have thought this about other characters but SPECIFICALLY KEEFE HOLY GUACAMOLE GET THAT GUY THERAPY
Is he insane? Define insane. But I love him anyway (what is going on in his head half the time 😭)
Am I rotating him in my head 24/7? WELL YOU’VE READ THE POST WHAT DO YOU THINK
Do I have so many headcanons? Oh you guys don’t know the half of it. I have. So. Many. SO MANY
Is he wasted potential? Uhhhh I have too many thoughts on this to actually put it on this post. Genuinely love what Shannon’s doing with his character, like I said. But at some point she needs to. Address the things. Or he just becomes a guy with all these complications introduced that just kinda sit there and continue to change and grow and Keefe is the complex character to end all complex characters but Shannon you need to DO SOMETHING WITH THE MASTERPIECE OF A CHARACTER THAT YOU HAVE CREATED
The amount of bingos holy moly
Anyway
Keefe means a lot to me
Thanks for the ask anon!
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anxiety-elemental-kay · 9 months
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TriMax Vol. 5, Part 1: Vash Time
MY FAVORITE VOLUME LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOOO
This is going to be especially interesting to talk about because from what I’ve read this is the volume where I’ve seen the most variety in interpretations. I’ll go over what I think is happening and why. I’ll be splitting my volume 5 thoughts into two posts, because I have So Fucking Many. This first one is just focused on Vash, the second will cover everything else. Because Vash is my blorbo and I have many thoughts. I am normal about this man and this franchise.
LOST JULY
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[ID: A crop of a page from TriMax Volume 5 chapter 3. Vash is unconscious, wearing a straight jacket of some kind and strapped down to a table. His right arm is extended and held in an unknown device, surrounded by syringes and wires. Conrad and Knives are looking down at him. End ID] I’ve seen some disagreement about whether or not this was just Knives taking some kind of measurement, or if it continued into full experimentation on an unconscious Vash. I don’t think it’s clear either way, though I’m inclined to think more was done to Vash than just measuring his gate. We never see Vash use his powers before July, so I’m left to believe Knives did something to him to open his gate or make it so Knives could manipulate it. It could also be that once Knives wanted to know how powerful Vash was first before forcing his powers. There is room for interpretation: Vash could not utilize his powers on his own, didn’t even know his body was capable of something like this before July. It’s likely Knives didn’t either.
It’s not clear to me if Knives wanted Vash to manifest and fire the Angel Arm, or if he only wanted to transform him enough to frighten Vash, remind him that he isn’t human. Across panels the transformation is inconsistent, sometimes the barrel has formed, a panel later we can see Vash’s hand again. It’s not clear to me if this is an error, or if Vash is actively fighting the transformation. I did read another post that suggested Vash fired the Angel Arm in a deliberate attempt to hurt Knives without thinking/knowing about the damage it would do to July. Which. Top tier suffering. Something something impulsive choice made during a highly stressful and emotional moment with devastating long-term consequences leading to hyper-vigilance and self-flagellation.
THE NATURE OF VASH’S POWERS
Outside of the Fifth Moon, this is the first time we get a good look at Vash’s powers. Sure he has faster reflexes, greater intelligence, and (.) than humans, but those are more passive. They’re just part of who he is and how he moves through the world.
The wings though? Oh, boy howdy. They first appear when Hoppered nearly kills him. We see here (and later) his powers rise up when his life in danger. This response appears to be autonomic, entirely outside of conscious control. In fact when we get the reveal of Turbo Trauma Chicken Mode, Vash’s eyes are blank. The lights are on but no one is home.
The next chapters he spends in this state, and it’s unclear how aware he is of his surroundings or what he’s doing. When he tries to manifest and fire the Angel Arm, Elendira stops him by impaling it (and Legato’s weird monster) with a nail. Then Vash’s iris becomes visible again, either because of the pain, or the realization that he’d almost used the Angel Arm again.
Then he grips his transformed arm with his left, and this happens:
THAT’S SOME GOOD FUCKING BODY HORROR
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[ID: A page from TriMax volume 5 chapter 6. Vash is kneeling, drawn without any clothing details against a black background. His left arm, flash and blood and not his prosthetic, is gripping his right near his shoulder hard enough to make it bleed. His right arm is a mutated mass of crying eyes, screaming mouths, deformed arms and hands, and long fleshy tendrils. End ID]
Another one of my favorite pages because holy shit that’s gross and terrifying and exactly the kind of shit I’m here for.
I interpret this moment as taking place in Vash’s head/a mindspace shared with Knives. Vash looks naked, but he has his original left arm, no black hair (briefly), and his body is outlined like he’s wearing clothes. That plus the black background and the presence of Knives makes me think this is meant to be how Vash sees himself and his powers. This is what it feels like to be Vash, part of his body has become a grotesque horror beyond his control. It’s repulsive and horrifying.
Quick side note: we also see this effect briefly during the Lost July flashback:
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[ID: A crop of a page from TriMax Volume 5 chapter 3. Two vertical panels. In the first we see an unknown surface pierced in two places by fingers with long, broken fingernails. The second panel shows the gaps widened, the surface tattered, revealing a dark mass of screaming mouths and crying eyes. End ID.]
For two panels we see similar masses tearing through something, a representation of his gate opening for the first time? Back then they’re also shown screaming and crying, even as the mass breaks through with long, broken fingernails. It seems to represent now just Vash’s power, but also his own terror and grief. In the present, in Vash’s mind, the mass of his arm is screaming and crying, mirroring Vash. When Knives speaks I get the impression this is a telepathic conversation happening in the present. It reads to me like Knives preying on Vash’s vulnerable state to try to win him to Knives’ cause. Vash confesses he doesn’t know if humanity can be “saved” or if his way of life is correct. (Love a character who expresses doubt about what appeared to be a firm belief!). What he does know is that the people of July, the ones he killed, were kind to him. Above all else that’s the impression he’s left with. They were kind to him, and he killed them.
He’s able to calm his powers, becomes conscious and mobile enough to try to protect Hoppered from Legato-controlled zombie Midvalley, until Elendira decisively ends the fight.
VASH AND THE DEAD
Here’s two moments I want to point out in the final chapter:
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[ID: A crop of three panels from TriMax volume 5 chapter 6. In the first we see Vash reaching down with both hands towards Hopper’s limp hand. In the second we see Vash take Hoppered’s hand gently in both of his. In the final we see Vash’s face, with an unclear expression, looking down at his right hand holding Hoppered’s. End ID]
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[ID: A crop of three panels from TriMax volume 5 chapter 6. In the first we see in the foreground two silhouettes of cross-shaped gravestones, one with a saxophone hanging on it. Behind them we see Vash bowing with his hands together. Wolfwood is behind him, holding up a small cross. In the second panel it’s a closeup of Wolfwood’s face, he’s wearing sunglasses and holding his cross. His speech bubbles say “Yer bowin’ with yer palms together? Wrong religion, pal. Look, those are crosses.” In the last panel we see Vash’s face, he’s looking to the side with a small smile on his face. His speech bubbles say “I can put more feeling into it this way. Is that so wrong?”. End ID]
We see Vash hold the hand of a dying/dead man, one who just wished him eternal suffering. Then we see that he’s buried both Hoppered and Midvalley, probably with Wolfwood’s help, and given them last rites. How often do we see a protagonist of an action series take the time to put his enemies’ dead to rest? Vash saw both Hoppered and Midvalley as people, even though he didn’t know them, even though they tried to kill him and hurt both innocent people and the ones Vash personally cares for. He took the time he could have spent helping the living to care for the dead.
It bothers me when people reduce Vash’s philosophy down to “no killing” exclusively, because this scene shows it’s about more than that! It’s about even seeing terrible people as human, ones who should be comforted as they die, who deserve burials and late rites. Yes not killing anyone is important, because death is final and robs a person of a future and a chance to change. It’s not the end of the conversation though.
I think this distinction is important, and is related to something I know I’ll want to talk about near the end of the manga.
CONCLUSION
I just. I have a lot of emotions about Vash the Stampede. Someone please get this man some space antidepressants and a hug.
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irish-urn · 3 months
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For the ask game:
001 - Dasey
002 - Derek and Casey
Dasey:
when I started shipping it if I did: Oh, boy. That's a question, now isn't it? I low-key shipped them when I first found Dasey fanfiction waaaaaaay back in my undergrad (so, like 10-12 years ago?). But it was super low-key. I got BACK into Dasey majorly in the spring of 2021 and stumbled upon fanvids and fanfiction of them AGAIN and because I was laid up health-wise, I got obsessed.
my thoughts: I have a LOT of thoughts about Dasey???? I think they're fascinating characters and I adore them both as individuals and as a couple. I think their physical comedy (and by that I mean they're complete lack of personal space) is hilarious; and I think they have insane chemistry. I think Derek knows Casey better than anyone, and Casey gets Derek better than anyone; and I think they're both stupid and stubborn enough to never acknowledge that. I think they're far more alike than they are different, and I think I need to continue my rewatch of the show because I'm gonna end up writing an essay about them.
What makes me happy about them: I think it's how good of a team they can be. I've always been a BIG friends-to-lovers shipper, but even more than that, a "we're partners and i've got your back" shipper. And even though Derek and Casey TRY to pretend to they hate each other, we have sooooo much evidence of them being protective of the other, of them going out of their way to help the other (usually complaining the whole time, but c'mon), and of them kicking serious butt when they do work together. It just makes something inside me purr.
What makes me sad about them: THEY'RE KIDS IN AN AWFUL SITUATION and they don't FEEL like family, but everything in their lives are telling them they're supposed to be; but they CAN'T be, and if they TRY to be together, they might hurt their FAMILIES who they LOVE so MUCH; and I think you catch my drift.
things done in fanfic that annoys me: ...I really hate OOC-ness, but the MOST OOC-ness I hate is when people make Derek to be, like, abusive? Or completely inconsiderate of Casey's boundaries, and you get into non-con. I just... Nope.
things I look for in fanfic: EXCELLENT CHARACTERIZATION. Good bantering, that push-and-pull that they both have... I also think they have at least mildly kinky sex, and I support this.
Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Well, all of Casey's boyfriends SUCK except for Sam who is an excellent person but not good for her. And I'm pretty sure her husband in LWL isn't doing a good job either. So they'd have to create a WHOLE NEW CHARACTER for her--
I don't mind Derek/Sally, except I think they'd have to work things out as adults better. I dunno; the show purposely shows us that Derek and Casey are far more important to each other than any of their significant others (that's been stated by the creators, btw), so yeah. No one.
My happily ever after for them: THEY GET TOGETHER AND THE FAMILY ACCEPTS THEM AND THEY STAY TOGETHER FOR, LIKE, 60+ YEARS AND BICKER AND BANTER AND LOVE EACH OTHER THE WHOLE TIME and whether or not they have kids depends completely on their choices and Derek calms Casey's panic attacks, and Casey reminds Derek of his worth, and I cry.
who is the big spoon/little spoon: THEY. SWITCH. I think most of the time Derek is the big spoon because he's kinda sexist, no lie, but I think when he's having a bad day, he likes getting spooned. Casey likes being held, but she also likes holding him. So, uh... 80% of the time Derek is the big spoon.
what is their favorite non-sexual activity: Honestly, I think it's arguing. But in, like, a fun way? With bets and competition and teasing and flirting; I strongly believe that they would just have a lot of small arguments and that would keep the big fights small too. And Casey likes debating and Derek likes challenges.
Derek:
How I feel about this character: MY BLORBO???? I LOVE HIM??? HE'S SUCH A LITTLE SHIT; I ADORE HIM???
All the people I ship romantically with this character: Well. Casey, obviously. And to a certain extent, Sally.
My non-romantic OTP for this character: ...Derek&Lizzie. I know, I KNOW that Derek & Marti are like, gold, but I think his interactions with Lizzie are superb.
My unpopular opinion about this character: ...do I have one? I dunno. I have a lot of opinions about his relationship with his parents, but I wouldn't call them unpopular, more... me looking at things differently than some others do.
One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I wish, in LWL, people (Genora) recognized how much he had grown. Just because a person likes to have fun and tease and passes off some of his responsibilities to people he knows will do them (see: Skyler and Casey, but they also ENJOY doing these tasks most of the time), doesn't make him immature. He was SUCH a good dad and was taking steps to improve Skyler's life, and maybe their lives weren't traditional, but she was healthy and loved and appreciated and he had raised her as best he could; and honestly, his relationship with Skyler was much better than his with George, I'm just saying. Derek is clever with a large heart, and I wish people in the show saw that more.
my OTP: ...Dasey.
my cross over ship: I don't like crossovers? *shrugs*
a headcanon fact: Derek is a dork. He's a big ol' dork. I HC that he knows an awful lot about very certain things because he gets hyperfixated -- reword: Derek has undiagnosed ADHD. There. That's my fact.
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deadchovsky · 6 months
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okay, im going to rant about soldier, poet, king because PEOPLE ARE STILL MISINTERPRETING IT and im mad about it.
Obligatory disclaimer: Mentions of Christianity, obviously. Also, I myself am not a Christian. However, I REALLY like the Oh Hellos. If you couldn't tell.
Soldier, Poet, King is the tenth song of the Dear Wormwood album by The Oh Hellos. Dear Wormwood is heavily inspired by CS Lewis (hence the title, which comes from the Screwtape Letters.) The story of the album is about an abusive relationship, which uses aspects of their inspirations as metaphors for the overarching narrative.
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(from their website)
Soldier, Poet, King has aspects that are clearly drawn from the bible, yes. We all know this. Everyone who has ever done a surface level search of the lyrics on Genius can tell you this. Congrats, you know a basic aspect of The Oh Hellos.
However, if you leave it at that, you are just ignoring the literal message of the song. Aside from the people everyone and their mother complains about ("omg i can't believe this is abt jesus :(( i can't use this song for my blorbos anymore :((("), there's also a really annoying subsection of people who are like this:
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THEY DIDN'T DO THIS. Let me break down the soldier verse for you because this is making me so mad.
There will come a soldier
Who carries a mighty sword
He will tear your city down, oh lei oh lai oh Lord
Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord
He will tear your city down, oh lei oh lai oh Lord
Crazy how this tiny ass verse got misinterpreted that badly, btw. Anyways. This verse has direct references that come from THE BIBLE.
Revelations 1:16- "In his right hand he held seven stars, from his mouth came a sharp two-edged sword, and this face was like the sun shining in full strength."
Revelations 19:15- "From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron. He will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty."
Because of these, I'D ARGUE THAT JESUS IS MENTIONED TO HAVE A SWORD MULTIPLE TIMES, ACTUALLY. Given, it's metaphorical most of the time, but come on now. Also, it's not saying he's a literal soldier in the lyrics. I'd argue that it's more meant to imply a reform, especially consider the next verse is:
There will come a poet
Whose weapon is His word
He will slay you with His tongue, oh lei oh lai oh Lord
Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh Lord
He will slay you with His tongue, oh lei oh lai oh Lord
If his weapon is his word, does this not imply that the sword from the previous verse is metaphorical? If he's slaying with his tongue, doesn't that mean that he's "tearing your city down" with his fucking words? If we're to say that this song is about a singular person, which it is (it's using jesus as an analogy for the protagonist), then these lyrics have overlap, and his SWORD is his WORDS. NOT A LITERAL SWORD.
Anyways, rant concluded.
TLDR; Jesus is an analogy for the protagonist of the Dear Wormwood album, the "sword" referenced in the first verse and his "word" referenced in the second verse are the same thing, which has biblical basis, especially in Revelations.
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goosewriting · 1 year
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Blorbos and unresolved feelings
summary: your favourite character from the show you’re watching just died. F in the chat for blorbo 🫡
relationship: Rise!Leo x GN reader (can be read with any turtle imo)
warnings: mention of fictional character death, angst?/comfort
word count: ~970
A/N: i have no other explanation for this other than 1. i desperately needed something to get out of my writing block, and 2. i recently binged all of clone wars and the bad batch, and i have A Lot Of Feels that idk what to do with. enjoy :’)
(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)
— — —
It was a Wednesday night, and all that could be heard in your apartment was the ending theme song of your show, and your sniffles.
You were all wrapped up in your blankets on your bed as the credits rolled, with your laptop on your lap and an empty snack bowl at your side, as you religiously had been for the past weeks, watching the new episode to your current favourite show every Wednesday. You thought this would be just like any other episode, where after it was finished, you’d revisit all your favourite scenes, analyse some frames, and then you’d spend the next several hours rambling and fangirling about it on your blog.
What you had not seen coming however, is that your favourite character would die on you; unjustly murdered and left behind like a sack of potatoes. Another wave of sobs came over you, which you desperately tried to choke back. Closing the laptop, you snatched yet another tissue from the box and blew your nose.
Sure, this character wasn’t the main protagonist, but they were important to the story nonetheless! How dare they do that to them. To you. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you inwardly cursed the writers.
Sadly looking at the now empty bowl, you mentally ran through the items in your pantry, deciding which snack would be worthy of this occasion and could somewhat ease the pain in your heart.
As you were about to unwrap yourself from your cocoon of warmth, you heard your living room window softly clicking shut. Weird, you thought to yourself, Leo doesn’t usually come over on Wednesdays.
You heard him softly calling your name as he peeked around your open door.
“Hey babe” he said, holding out some chocolate and a family pack of your favourite chips. “How we holding up?”
You knew Leo didn’t watch your show. But you also knew you had rambled about it to him so much, so often, and so intensely, that he probably wouldn’t even need to. He was also very aware of how much you loved this one character, not only because of the amount of merch and posters you had of them in your room.
Looking up at him from under your blanket pile of misery, and meeting his gentle and understanding gaze, all the feels came back to you and hit you like a freight train. You leaned back into the bed, unable to hold back your sobs, and pulled the blanket over your face. You were conflicted on whether to give in to the pain and be pampered, or try to keep some dignity in front of your boyfriend.
“Oh no, it’s okay!” Leo comforted you and went to sit next to you, moving your laptop and the snacks to the bedside table. He held you as you all but ugly-cried under the blankets, his hand rubbing your arm up and down soothingly to the best of his ability, given how curled up you were.
“You know, I actually follow one of your mutuals’ blogs” Leo admitted with a sheepish smile. “I checked it this morning, and I knew you’d only be able to see the episode late in the evening avoiding the internet at all costs, so I wanted to come prepared.”
As your sniffles died down, he gently pushed back the blanket from your face and was met with your red, puffy eyes, and tear streaked cheeks. Suddenly his face became very serious as he looked at you for a moment. You questioningly raised a brow at him.
“I am so sorry for your loss” he spoke, and then saluted into the emptiness of your room. “F in the chat for our fallen soldier.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at his silly comment, the back of your hand coming up to rub against your face in an attempt to wipe away your tears, but they just wouldn’t stop. You laughed, cried, giggled, sobbed, and cried some more, all the while Leo was there and just let you get it all out.
After a while when you finally calmed down, you sat up to lean on his shoulder, and he hugged you, giving your temple a kiss.
“Feeling better?” he asked, reaching for the chips and handing them to you. You only nodded, mumbling a ‘thank you’ and taking them from his hands. As you were about to rip open the package, you stopped in your tracks. You leaned back slightly and looked up at him.
“This is ridiculous though, isn’t it?” you asked, more at yourself than at him, really.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, here I am, in this state, over a fictional character…” You could feel the tears stinging at the back of your eyes again. “It’s kinda pathetic, really. I don’t know how or why you put up with me—“
You were shushed with a quick kiss to your lips, which was very efficient. Just as quickly as he had leaned in, Leo pulled back again with a stern look, which softened immediately though.
“First of all: no self-deprecating comments on my watch” he stated, and booped your nose with the tip of his. “And second: your blorbo might be fictional, but your pain is real. So you gotta process it in a real way, and that’s okay. I mean, you’re literally grieving them.”
“They deserved so much better!” you squeaked, as your tears came back, streaming down your face. Gosh, you would be so dehydrated after this. You didn’t even bother to wipe them away this time, unabashedly crying into his plastron.
The rest of the night went by with you in Leo’s arms: him being the perfect boyfriend he is, holding you and bringing you drinks and snacks and comforting you, until his warm embrace finally lulled you to sleep. Before drifting off completely, you managed to mumble out a ‘thank you’ because really, how did you deserve him?
— — —
(A/N: *hits chest twice with fist, then holds out peace sign* this is for you fives. you deserved so much better orz)
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lady-eris · 1 year
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Open requests hmm? A villain liker approaches 🤸
Cell and Cooler hcs? Wanna hear ya take on them with affectionate s/o hehe (also are there characters you dont wanna write for? Wouldn't wanna ask you about blorbos you may not like)
Oh? a villain liker? I myself, am also a villain Liker! except, I also write for them! I've not really figured out character's I won't write for, I know General Blue is one of them, but that's about it so far anyway. (pretty sure, this is cause I've got really low standards) if a certain character gets requested and I'm uncomfortable, I'll add it to the list of character's I don't like^^
Cooler
-I feel like this man would be in thought with this (i can't remember the actual word) he'd love it but at the same time he'd hate it.
-I feel like he'd love it cause, in my opinion he wants to be touched and held, but would only prefer this in private.
-it's not cause he's embarrassed, Cooler isn't really the type to be embarrassed by physical affection. (though i feel like he wouldn't be the type to give it back)
-I think he'd be more afraid saftety wise. He's got a lot of enemy's, the biggest being his own Brother. He wouldn't take it past his brother, to try anything and kill you, just to annoy Cooler.
-this is why he'd prefer physical affection to be kept in private.
-he'd remind you constantly that he loves you though.
Cell
-of course you want to touch him, who wouldn't Cell is the definition of perfect, so it would only make sense that you would want to touch him.
-i don't really think he would mind, get's to show everyone that you're his, and vice versa
-would prefer if he got to touch you as well
-Let him hold your waist please, or put a tail or hand on your hip.
-may be times where he doesn't want to be touched and can be iffy about it, be respectle about it please.
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