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stomach-bugg09 · 1 year

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summary: [y/n] has always been an angry girl. why wouldn't she be ready to fight any avatar that puts their hands in her siblings?

sully family x sully!reader

a/n: i just did this one for fun because i wanted one where she's an absolute boss and a half. love her !! remember , reqs are open and waiting. i probably won't write anymore fali x [y/n] stuff unless i get specific reqs because they're really difficult to write without direct inspo and ideas. once again , motivation is really important to keep me writing , so please comment feedback + reblog !! i would seriously appreciate it. ( also , for some odd reason my two most recent works have barely gotten any interaction -- idk if that's just bc tumblr is being a problem , or if it's because fali has lost his magic touch ( which if so , i completely get it ) , but if you guys could help me out to try and figure out what's going on ?? )

warnings: violence, guns, fighting, weapons, death, killing

tags: @rafeslovergirl @wxnderingthoughts @liyahsocorro @bonnibuckets @hjkshshjkhklhkl @itssiaaax @grierpilots @23victoria @nyotamalfoy @gcldtom @eywas-heir @historygeekqueen @missroro @sweetheart-bo

angry spirit

nobody quite understood the rage that naturally flowed through the veins of the women in the sully family. nobody quite understood the urge to protect that seemed to be carried between each and every one of the children that jake and neytiri shared and adored together. nobody quite understood… not until they experienced it themselves.

and trust me, plenty of people have experienced it, humans and na’vi alike. even from a young age, there were times where one of the kids were ( one-hundred and ten percent ) willing to fight another kid if it meant they would stop picking on their siblings.

luckily — of perhaps unluckily, depending on the perspective — that shared agreement only seemed to get stronger with age. as the relationships between each kid developed, as more seemed to join the family in general, there was a camaraderie between the five sully kids. even tuk, just a tiny thing herself, was well aware of her willingness to risk her own life if it meant she could save her sisters and brothers.

that being said, there was absolutely no way any of her older siblings would ever let that slide, but it was a sweet sentiment on its own.

even though this habitual response seemed to run through every sully’s blood, it was strongest in the eldest girl.

being neteyam’s twin — younger by just a few minutes — allowed for [y/n] to balance him out. while he had the expectations of future olo’eyktan on his shoulders from the moment he graced pandora with his birth, [y/n] was a freer spirit.

she was also a much more angry spirit.

not that she held fury against every person she interacted with, but [y/n] wasn’t scared of disliking anyone. she also wasn’t scared of letting them know that she didn’t like them; a blessing and a curse, the sully family often called it.

but it stemmed further than that. it ran stronger than that.

from a young age, jake taught his oldest daughter how to channel her anger much healthier. what did jake sully consider a healthy outlet? well, fighting, of course.

so, the sully child that’d been this close to fighting another kid in lo’ak’s honor? yeah, that was [y/n].

not to mention her iknimaya — the rite of passage that quite possibly boosted this girl’s ego far too high. she deserved it, though. not many young na’vis could complete the event in such little time, especially against the pain that her ikran was.

he was a bitter fellow, similar to his spirit sister. angry at the world for every little thing and always ready for a fight. they truly were connected in every possible way.

but, her iknimaya was physical evidence that fighting fire with fire never worked. the truth was that one flame had to overcome the other — one flame had to envelop the other. it was just a matter of which flame was stronger.

[y/n] knew from the moment she locked eyes and that joyful, adrenaline-filled grin blessed her face that she would win.

thank eywa she believed in herself, because neytiri and jake nearly lost all of their faith at the sight of the monster that towered over the young girl.

another notable moment — or perhaps a series of moments — of her oh-so optimistic and joyful personality was prompted by her very own father. if there was one thing that the oldest daughter was confident in, it was her father’s love. she knew that he loved her — loved all of them — and that made it extremely easy for her to argue with him on any topic she disagreed with.

as annoying as it happened to be to jake, neytiri loved that she was raising a strong woman. it often reminded her of herself at a young age.

but, every single one of those stories were child’s play compared to the raw anger that surged through her body when her and her siblings’ lives were held under knife and gunpoint.

[y/n], the original rebel and inspiration for lo’ak’s ‘admirable’ choices, was happy to join the crew on their adventure through the jungle. with lo’ak grounded from flying due to his choices just the other night, he’d practically begged his older sister to join them.

they were partners in crime, afterall.

once neteyam decided to become all responsible and stuff ( not that [y/n] blamed him… but it was disappointing ), [y/n] and lo’ak seemed to have magnetized toward each other, although that might be a sign to turn the other way and run as fast and as far as you can.

either way, [y/n] found herself exploring the similar jungle scene alongside all of her siblings minus neteyam and with the additional presence of spider.

as soon as the familiar scene turned not-so familiar, it seemed that [y/n] had a feeling. a feeling that something was wrong, that something else was creeping. she should have listened to her gut.

and that same thought resurfaced as soon as the stomach-dropping view of the avatars overcame her view from the bushes.

it was only once said avatars put their hands on her baby siblings that the familiar settled, bubbling beneath her thick layers of skin. it was only when [y/n] fell into an eerie silence and state of pure calm that every other sully sibling felt their own fear.

even as tuk squirmed and cried against the bruising grip of the avatar’s, even as kiri cried out at the sharp knife edge against her throat, even as spider fought his restraints, even as lo’ak stared into the terrifying eyes of the same man that had nearly killed his father…

[y/n] stayed perfectly compliant. stuck on her knees, queue throbbing at the feeling of her opponent tugging it, [y/n] merely stared straight at quaritch. silently, her urge to fight was building, and everybody that knew her was perfectly aware. and ready.

she ran her tongue smoothly against her fangs, eyes narrowed straight at the man that threatened the lives of her siblings.

a solid thirty minutes had already passed, eclipse coming quicker than [y/n] would’ve preferred. she just had to hope that, without being used to their forest and bodies, the avatar’s didn’t have the same keen night vision as she did.

“you okay there, kid?” the avatar teased, attempting to startle her with his threatening voice. he tugged her braid, nearly drawing a hiss from deep within her rib cage, but she held it back. he seemed to be bothered with the fact that her eyes hadn’t once left the body of their colonel.

but, for once, she drifted her gaze to meet her perpetrator and summoned english for his benefit. “ask again in a few minutes.”

and, almost as if [y/n] could feel the presence of her parents, a familiar bird call echoed through the nighttime breeze. her ears pressed back against her head in shock before she quickly recovered and flashed an innocent smile to the avatar.

he merely grunted, pulling her braid one last time for good measure, and looked back up at quaritch.

now, she just had to be patient. she could do that. well, as long as she got what she wanted in the end, and that was a good fight. she deserved it after letting the chains rub back and forth against her wrists, eating at her skin through the friction.

that being said, as soon as her mother’s signal became clear, she straightened up and locked eyes with lo’ak. a discreet nod was enough between them. grab tuk and go. she knew kiri and spider would handle themselves.

plus, the extra connection between spider and quaritch was just another layer of protection for her baby sister. perhaps it was a terrible way of thinking, but [y/n] wouldn’t dwindle too much on it. the urge to survive had its faults, afterall.

and finally, once neytiri’s arrow soared through the air, it was go time.

while lo’ak and tuk bit the arms of their restraining avatars, lo’ak also doubling duty and releasing whatever gas canisters had been accessible on the guy’s belt, kiri and spider were lucky enough to be given a chance to run as soon as the avatars lifted their guns.

[y/n] liked to do it the hard way, though.

she swung her legs in a swift motion, wrapping them around the avatar’s. she weighed his bottom half, keeping him from being able to move far, and in a split second, neytiri’s arrow was embedded in his chest.

[y/n] let go, scrambling to her feet and up the nearest tree, finding a moment of solace nested in the upper branches. she could see everything, and they couldn’t see her — she was a master of disguise and hiding, if anything.

and then, it seemed the world went a few clicks quieter, gunfire calming down just a tad. one scan of the scene, and [y/n] knew it was because they’d lost sight of her siblings.

“the kids are gone.” a voice crackled through the walkie strapped to a dead avatar’s chest at the base of the tree, the small noise quiet against the chaotic scene. [y/n] was merely lucky she was in little enough of a proximity to even catch the words.

“what do you mean gone?” quaritch. she could tell from his stingy accent and infuriating pronunciation of vowels.

a beat of quiet against more raining gunfire. “the boy and youngest girl ran off. tarzan and the other girl split to the opposite direction.”

“which other girl?” [y/n] felt a familiar smile on her face.

“what do you mean —”

quaritch was angry, and [y/n] couldn’t help but find pure enjoyment from the scene. little did he know that the young na’vi girl could now see him from her spot in the tree, eyes narrowed on the colonel hunched behind a fallen log.

“there are two girls. one of ‘em quiet and useless, the other looks like her devil of a mother.” the same mother that managed to kill him the first time.

[y/n]’s eyes focused on the demon in na’vi skin, watching his face contort at the familiar arrow pierced in the wood beside him. it was almost as if he’d conjured her very own “devil of a mother” into existence. “seems that very mother might be in attendance this fine evening.”

[y/n] scrunched her nose in disgust, her skin crawling at his words. she really could not stand him. but, her attention was quickly pulled back to reality when he dropped the walkie and called into the open air, all while reloading his gun, “that you, mrs. sully? i recognize your calling card.”

instantly, [y/n]’s head whipped around, locating the exact tree in which her mother hid behind. unfortunately, [y/n] was a few feet away and at the worst possible angle to help.

“why don’t you come on out, mrs. sully?” quaritch continued, and [y/n]’s eyes followed a different avatar that began to creep past the colonel. “you’n i, we got some… unfinished business.”

“demon!” neytiri’s voice caused panic to spike in the young na’vi’s heart, blood pumping with adrenaline. “i will kill you as many times as i have to.”

it was only when [y/n] looked back at quaritch that she noticed the other avatar was missing. a million different curse words rattled deep within her brain, eyes widening in fear.

meanwhile, quaritch would not be distracted from his tangent. “i guess you an’ the corporal have been pretty… busy, haven’t ya? got yourself a whole litter of… half-breeds.”

what could she do?

as quickly and as silently as she could, [y/n] scrambled through the wet tree branches, cursing herself every time her feet lost grip. nerves added up with rain never helped.

at the very last second, [y/n] reached a spot in which she could just barely see her mom. well, her mom, and the avatar that had a gun aimed right at her. just as [y/n] opened her mouth and prepared to scream a distraction, an arrow flew right through the avatar’s body.

gunfire followed almost immediately after, and her dangerous balance finally lost way, causing the girl to topple from her position and into the muddy ground below.

[y/n] was quick to stand up — she had to be — but the scene was not a pretty sight to behold.

she was surrounded. surrounded by three different avatars, each with their own weapon that could quite easily hurt her, if not kill her on the spot. she just prayed that, if they did manage to get to her, she could make them scream first.

[y/n] knew she would. it was always just a matter of mentality, right?

and so, as if the clock slowed down just for her, [y/n]’s eyes flashed around her and gauged every detail possible. the machine gun, loaded and prepared ( although she had noticed that it was already halfway empty ), in the hands of the avatar to her right, the two knives ready in the hands of the avatar to her left, and the last avatar just in front of her. nothing but his fists.

a smile surfaced.

she could deal with that.

and then, before the rest of her body returned to the consciousness of time, her feet began to move. [y/n] lifted her arms so she could see her wrists — still wrapped in chains — and she leapt upwards.

her long legs gave her a higher jump, bringing her and her hands to the perfect height to wrap her chains around the weaponless avatar’s neck. she swung herself around, legs hooking his torso as she tugged with every bit of strength she could muster.

at the chaotic sounds around her, [y/n] knew that bullets were being fired now. lucky for her, she had her very own personal shield, but that meant the tree she was choking was about to go timber.

once she felt the warm splatters of his blood against her stomach, she knew she only had a matter of time before getting squished under a dead man’s weight. [y/n] shifted her weight, unhooking her legs and placing her feet on his hips very carefully.

[y/n] kept her ears aware at all times as she leapt up and off of the now dead avatar, pushing him onto the ground with her jump. her ears moved vigilantly, picking up the sounds of the bullets just before they were shot so she could move just in time to avoid any casualties.

and then her favorite sound rang through the air. an empty cartridge.

at that, her infamous smirk surfaced as she locked eyes with the now useless avatar.

now, behind her, the third avatar with the knives thought she was being slick, creeping behind her with both weapons raised to stab her in the back.

luckily, [y/n] was far too aware and far too pissed to miss such an important detail.

just as the third avatar broke through stabbing distance, [y/n] whirled around and disarmed her in a quick movement. both knives flew into the air, and she swiftly grabbed each of them.

each blade found their own homes embedded in the chests of her enemies

and then, just like that, she’d won.

[y/n] huffed for air, three dead avatars laying around her feet. blood pooled, swirling in an overwhelming pool of maroon. and none of it was hers.

#avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #neteyam sully #loak sully #sully family x reader #sully family x y/n #tuk sully #tuktirey #sully family #kiri sully #sully!reader #sully kids #sully family x platonic!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #neteyam x sister!reader

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grippingbeskar · 1 year

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unearthed

chapter one - matched

warnings— canon typical violence, mentions of death, loss, injury, maybe a lil trauma

a/n— and we’re back! just over a year of having this account, and the end of season three, and i’m back where i started. thirsting after the mandalorian. i’m super excited about this one, and even though i think there will be a bit of a wait between chapters i promise its because they are going to be higher quality. also, obviously there will be smut further on (come on, it’s me. of course we are going to fuck him.) so no minors please!! hope you enjoy! big thank-you to @kyberblade for beta reading and saving me from my typos i love u.

also a psa. disregard season three for this fic. it fucked up my timeline so i’m changing it. things might be a bit all over the place, but it’s just going to be what i wanna do with it HAHAH no rhyme or reason :)

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You stared out into the never ending darkness, interspersed by twinkling hints of far away planets, all of them seeming more and more out of reach as you were shuffled out into the hall. Flanked by guards, the view from your room disappeared from sight, replaced by the familiar, safe walls of your palace. This was your life now— being shoved towards the known and away from those giant stretches of sky you longed so much for. Your duty, you say to yourself. This was the way you had to live, destined to the confines of your pre-determined universe. It is what you were born to do.

You knew this day would come. You were, as you were constantly, incessantly reminded, the last of the royal bloodline. After your parents early death, it left you as heir and sole survivor to the throne. All of your life, you had been trained for this moment, but it was something that was always so...distant.

You used to look forward to this time in your life, where you’d get to travel the galaxy, finally earning some of that coveted freedom all the other girls in the palace talked about. You dreamed of seeing the galaxy, being unknown on an Outer Rim planet, going wherever your heart takes you. You thought you’d have time to live. But then, within the blink of an eye, you were rushed through your coronation and left to carry the burden of commanding an entire planet. It was like a rug was ripped out from underneath you, all while someone dropped a fifty pound weight over your head, all the while chiding you for stumbling over.

In the wake of the Empire finally falling around the galaxy, planets all around the suns were scrambling— resources were scarce, trade routes were un-secure and stability was out of reach. This was the same for you, because the future of your planet was now in your hands, and you had no idea what to make of it.

Unfortunately for you, stability in a woman’s world came in the form of a contract. Most usually, a marriage contract.

This meant, much to your dismay, an entourage of young, hopeful (and practically brainless) men arriving on your doorstep, all popping the question in hopes of securing the new Queen's hand in marriage. Your hand. You knew your planet was important and appealing, with its natural resources, expanding economy in spite of the Empire’s devastation, and an abundance of funds for all the newest technologies with the death of two of the greatest ruling minds of the time. Any leader of even a remotely nearby planet would strike on this opportunity— you know you would, if it were someone else.

The whole idea wasn’t new, but it still made your gut twist. Your parents were lucky they had something more– real love, and a home filled with the stuff of fairytales. While you knew this was rare, it made you long for that. Knowing it was real, that a connection like that could be somewhere out there for you, but you’d never reach it because you never got the chance to try... you knew you were lucky, but it didn’t stop your heart from longing for more. You wanted someone to show you the stars, to let you be you, and not just try to win you like a prize or a notch in their belt.

Everyone around you said this was the smart thing to do. Choose someone— anyone who would bring you what you wanted. Your planet, as fertile as it is, is not famous for its army. That was clear during the reign of the Empire, and now the New Republic was thinning their guard posts after the war, you needed manpower. You knew it was a necessity, and you wanted to keep your people safe, but to offer yourself up like a prized mare? You were a Queen, and you were planning to be a good one, with or without a husband.

As you sat on the throne, dismissing yet another suitor with a shake of your head, the collective group of your father’s– now your own Advisors groaned, and one walked up the steps, approaching you with a slightly bowed head.

“Your Majesty, if I may…” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, only because you knew the watchful gaze of neighbouring planet leaders were on you.

“I have a feeling you will anyway.” He shook his head, quickly coming up the stairs to your side. He sighs, and you shrug at him. “What? He wasn’t my type, okay? If I’m going to sleep with the man, I should at least–”

“Your Majesty, this is the fourteenth potential match you have rejected. We are a coveted planet, but if you do not choose someone, we run the risk of having no options at all.” He says, looking down his nose at where you are strung lazily across your throne. He was still harbouring some of that anger from earlier, where you had refused to change into the giant mess of a gown the styling team had chosen for you. If the colour wasn’t enough– a pale puke green measurable to the blood of a Trandoshaan– the fabric was so expansive you would have drowned in it. You loved a pretty dress, but at least one that didn’t eat you whole.

“Would that be so bad?” You dropped your head back, and he shook his head, sighing again.

“Yes— it would mean instability. We would be a target for neighbouring planets. We are strong, but not strong enough to be alone. The New Republic has already thinned their guards to a ghost number compared to four years ago. We cannot wait any longer. We are… vulnerable, without a strong army.”

“We can make allies without forcing me to marry one of them.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. We would never force you to do anything.” He says those words, but every syllable is laced with warning. You may be the last living member of your blood line, but no matter how important, and no matter how beloved by your people you are, there were some things that you couldn’t control.

The worst part was he was right. Sure, you could solidify alliances, but a marriage was a lock and key. If you picked the right one, your people would be safe for years to come, long after you were successful. After what you had seen of the Empire, what they had done here, and all over the galaxy, your people deserved safety. Freedom— whatever the cost.

Your love for your people would get you through this. In them, you saw your parents legacy, and the passion to build something greater than yourself. You would never trade this life for anything... but it didn’t mean you couldn’t have preferences. Just as you were going to justify why you rejected the man now sneering at you from the corner of the room, the doors burst open, and your attention is diverted to the messenger rushing in with a strange look on his face.

“Your Majesty, we’ve just received another request.” He calls, breathless. “I’m sorry to interrupt. It’s… I am not sure how to say this.”

The man is clearly nervous— avoiding your eye and instead staring at his feet. You rise off the throne and move to him, attempting a comforting smile and nodding at him.

“It’s alright. Start at the beginning.”

“This request… It is unusual.” He swallows, and you laugh lightly.

“What is it this time? Don’t tell me the Hutts have thrown themselves into the mix.” You had nothing against them right now, but they were so… slimy. “Whoever it is, as long as they send a message in peace, they will be well received.”

“Well, that is the thing. They do not ask Your Majesty to receive them. They…”

“They don’t want to come here?” Already, you are breathing a sigh of relief. Anything to stop the constant parade of men flapping their money and stupid hair around.

“No, they ask that… they ask that you come to them.” He finishes, and your advisors are next to him in an instant, all attempting to speak over one another. You raise your eyebrows, surprised, but intrigued.

“That is an insult!” The man who challenged you before, known to you as Advisor Corell, spits at the messenger. “Her Majesty only receives guests— she does not travel unless there is cause.”

“Did they say anything else?” You ask, and the room goes quiet again as you step forward. The messenger looks uncomfortable, knowing there are still foreign diplomats in the room. “Everyone else, please go. You’ll be... informed of my decision later.”

The entire room exits quickly at the sound of your voice, all mumbling to themselves, probably still hurt over your rejection and blatant disinterest, but all you could care about was this new message.

“It’s alright. Go ahead.” You encourage. “What else did they say?”

“They asked for your hand, of course. They have a new King, and think the match would be beneficial to both sides.” A new King. Your mind buzzes, trying to think if you’d heard of any close planets going through a succession besides your own. Nothing comes to mind, but if he was new, at least this one would hopefully be closer to your age.

“A new King?” The messenger nods. “And he asked for me personally?”

“Ah... the message was not from him, Your Majesty. It was a hologram from a member of his court. A… Bo-Katan.” You had never heard the name before, but one of your advisors makes a noise of recognition and you spin to her.

“You know this name?” You ask Advisor Kaylen— probably your favourite member and the closest thing you have to a friend. She nods eagerly. “You’ve met them?”

“I have heard it before, but that would be impossible…” She fades off, and you turn back to the messenger.

“This is the most interesting person I’ve heard of since this whole thing started. What’s impossible?” You watch the messenger's face twist, so you reach out and touch his shoulder, the contact surprising him and earning a disapproving hum from Advisor Corell. “You can tell me, just ignore him. I do.”

“Well, that’s just the thing. The planet they claim to come from has been long abandoned.” Advisor Kaylen was still muttering to herself, but you couldn’t focus on her anymore when the messenger finally spoke again. “They say they are calling from Mandalore, and that their new King has asked for you to be his Queen.”

“Stop asking me about that.” Din growled, stopping his swift movement through the makeshift repair station he’d been pulling together. “I’m not interested.”

“This isn’t just about you anymore.” The longer he spent with these Mandalorians, the more the thought of taking off with their precious Dark-Saber and leaving seemed appealing. “An alliance like this is exactly what we need. With all the repairs, we’ve run low in funds. We need resources— we need to outsource, and this is the fastest way to do it. She’s all but waving a flag for us.”

He never thought there would be a time when bounty hunting was the normalcy he craved— but standing surrounded by relics of his people long passed, discussing a potential marriage—he started to miss the reliable frame of the Razor Crest a little too much.

“Mandalore was built on the backs of our people. We can do it again, the same way.” Bo-Katan sighs, giving him a glare after removing her helmet. “Would you do this? Was this a part of your plan to re-take Mandalore?”

“They didn’t have a dwindling empire and economic crisis to deal with. If you do this, we can rebuild the way our ancestors wanted us to live. How we used to live. Welcome our family home. Isn’t that what you want?” He spins, taking two slow steps to face Bo-Katan, who stands with her helmet tucked under her arm. “To answer your question— yes. I would have. I was royalty once, and I know what this is like. And I would still do it. You might even make a friend in her, Din.”

“You aren’t suggesting friends.” To her credit, she doesn’t back down, just raises her eyebrows at him. “You are asking me to get married. You know what that means.”

“It’s not like that. Rulers marry for all kinds of reasons— and if she’s looking, it means she wants to take full advantage of this. It’s the smart thing to do. Her planet is powerful, but vulnerable. Their army numbers are small after the Empire’s attacks, and she needs what we can offer now the Rebellion is squaring off. Good, strong fighters. Besides, I’m sure you aren’t exactly all she hoped for, either. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hardly see her after the first few months.” Rolling her eyes, she turns back to the pile of spare parts they had dragged in from outside. “We’ve already sent a hologram inviting her here. If she accepts, you can discuss a potential alliance like adults. If you are still opposed, we’ll cancel it and try it your way. Until then, we have work to do.”

“Send another message. Say I’m no longer interested.” Din stands impossibly still, waiting for Bo-Katan to agree and leave before he lets out a long breath. Clearly, he’d misjudged how set on this idea she was.

“Just think about it, okay?” She turns and disappears from view, and he feels like he’s going to collapse under the pressure. Things were complicated enough— in the last month, he’d learnt his way of life was not the only way at all, inherited a saber he had little idea how to use, and dropped everything he knew to come back home— to Mandalore. To say he had enough on his plate was an understatement.

Truthfully, he had come back with one thing on his mind. The Way declared one could only truly be forgiven for their misdeeds in the living waters beneath the mines of Mandalore— and Din had a lot to be forgiven for. If there was anywhere he could start fresh, it was here, but before he could do that, he had to find the mines, currently buried under years worth of rubble and debris. The last thing he needed was to disgrace himself in yet another way— which is exactly what Bo-Katan and the other Mandalorian’s were suggesting.

He was not ready for this. Not in any way. He was not a ruler— not a born and bred leader, like Bo-Katan, and he’d never wanted to be. It might have made sense to an outsider, maybe. A new, untested ruler of a planet as economic as yours was bound to attract unwanted attention, and about the only thing Mandalore could offer right now was its ability to fight. It was the only thing it was known for.

He didn’t want to marry, though. Not for a political alliance. He didn’t think about it at all— not right now. He’d heard a few things about you by now— how your parents had passed suddenly, and how you were now being squashed into the same situation as he was, forced to play a role which you had no choice in being cast to. He felt as sorry for you as he did for himself, and he found his thoughts drifting to the Child.

Din looked around, exhausted at just the thought of getting this place into any form of working order. Spare parts to old ships scattered on the floor, and the room was painted in a light purple hue thanks to the reflection of the glass roof overhead. He stood, leaving the mess of a garage and walking back out towards the largest building in this city.

There were streets lined with cracked stone, several Mandalorians dragging and pulling equipment to replace the broken ones. They had been working hard— everyone had, including him, and the place was looking less and less like a war zone by the second. The sight made him feel easier. At least his home wouldn’t be rubble forever. Buildings were gaining foundations, others entirely rebuilt by hand. It had only been a month or two, and already this place was looking like he’d been told in the stories. Like home.

As he walked through them, he didn’t miss the stares of those who’d left their helmets behind, but at least that was familiar. Everyone stared, on every planet he went to, and even with the oddly shaped buildings, some spiralling high, others flat and long enough to park a few speeders in the front, he felt settled here. The cities were huge and spanned far into the horizon, too long to walk everywhere, so the Mandalorians had gone straight to work on the speeder parts, using them to zip around not only around this central city, but between other parts of the planet.

Finally, he began the walk up the steps of the castle. It was giant— bulky and boxed, rooms stacked on top of each other with seemingly no purpose. It was the most well conserved building on the planets surface, and it was what constituted as a home for Din. For now, at least. Either way, it was the safest place to keep Grogu during the day, and he would go wherever it was safest for him.

He could hear him before he saw him, loud chirps and gurgles coming from the throne room. One, giant looking chair was elevated by a few steps at the end of the room, and he saw a flip of green zip over Sasha’s unmasked head.

“Get down here, you gremlin.” She barked, but laughed at Grogu’s slightly worried face when he spun to a stop in mid air. It was then he finally noticed him, dropping to the ground and wandering over. “He’s been a little pain in my—“

“Patu!” Grogu chirps, and Din laughs roughly, bending down to pick him up. He holds him in front of his helmet, watching as his tiny hands reach out to grab his gloved wrists.

“Have you been causing trouble, Grogu?” He makes a little gurgle sound, like he always does when Din says his name, and he smiles under the helmet.

“Bo-Katan was looking for you.” Sasha says, putting her helmet back on. Most Mandalorian’s that lived around the capital did that when they spoke to him, now, even ones as high ranking as Sasha. Din doesn’t look up from Grogu’s giant eyes.

“She found me. And my answer is still no.” He hears her laugh, but when he looks up at her, she stops.

“She didn’t tell you?” Din turns to face her, letting the kid fiddle with something on his armour.

“Tell me what?” Unlike Bo-Katan, Sasha is a little afraid of him. Everyone is, especially since they had seen him fight with the DarkSaber when they first arrived on the planet. Since then, there had been a quiet fear, a commanding presence Din didn’t think he had earnt, but regardless it was there. She swallowed, tilting her helmet down to the floor. “Tell me.”

“The Queen replied. She accepted your invitation, and is expected to arrive within the week. She also implied, if the meeting goes well— she…”

“She what? What did she say?” Din had no idea why, but his heart was racing a mile a minute. Had she been insulted by the offer? Was she going to stage an attack?

“She said she would marry you.”

“You said I would what?” You shout at the group of advisors, all of whom look like they are about to scramble and run. And they should. “Who’s bright idea was it to send correspondence, with my name attached, without my go-ahead?! What the hell kind of advisor does that?!”

None of them so much as moved, except for Advisor Kaylen, who caught your eye, making a pointed look at Advisor Corell. You shook your head, and a bitter smile curled the ends of your mouth.

“I should have known. Corell. Get up.” He spluttered, stumbling to his feet as you dragged him up the dais, and forced him to his knees. “Was it you? Did you tell Mandalore I would accept their invitation?!”

He shakes his head. “I only said you would meet with them! Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“When I was ready!” You want to scream, but your embarrassment and nerves choke your throat. Yes, you were going to accept. Probably. Maybe a month from now... a few months, if you could stretch it. Not this week.

“This is a good thing! Now you get to go! To— to see the cursed land for yourself. To look upon its new ruler! I was only doing what I thought was best! They would have been insulted if we had rejected…and we’re running out of options.”

“The only one insulted here is me, that you truly believe I would buy any of the shit that comes out of your mouth.” He was on thin ice as it was, but your fathers words played in your head, and you saw the faces of your other Advisors in the corner of your eye.

Your father had selected this team of people because he trusted them, and for some reason, you did too. You didn’t know why, or how they were picked, but they were supposed to be the six people you could rely on. The six people who would challenge you, who wouldn’t blindly accept your decision like the rest of the planet. They were a tradition— to ensure the sanity of a ruler and the safety of a planet. You trusted them; or you would, eventually, but they would not overstep. Or at least, they shouldn’t.

“My father trusted you. It is that reason alone that I will let you continue to work underneath me, and forgive this lapse in judgment. But this is the one chance you will receive. I might not be my father, but you work for me now. If you choose to disobey me or do anything without me specifically telling you again, I will send you to Mandalore in my stead, and the King can have you in my place. We will see how far you make it in the ruins before he cuts you down.” They all scurry from the room, Advisor Corell not glancing back as he heads for the door after you drop him.

All that is left is Kaylen, who doesn’t need a title when it’s just you and her. She was a friend— perhaps your only one, so you only used her title around the other Advisors.

“That was exciting.” She says, and you flop down onto the cushioned throne, golden pillows softening the blow as she comes to lean on the armrest. “It’s been too long since we had some real palace gossip.”

“Well, hold on to that, because you might be shipping me off to marry a fish. He’s like a ghost— I couldn’t find anything on the King, and now I’m supposed to just…go?” You sigh, swinging your feet over the edge of the chair and letting your head fall into her lap. “This is insanity. This entire month has been suitor after suitor, none of them with armies strong enough to keep our planet safe. And now it’s like I don’t even have a... it all just happened so fast.”

“I know. You were right to reject them all. But this one is... it’s different.” You sit up, turning to face her.

“You think I should go?”

“Are you asking me as an Advisor, or as a friend?”

“Both.” The throne is huge, made for the large frame of your father, so she can slide right in next to you.

“Well, as your Advisor, Mandalore is famous for one thing— war. Sure, they have lost a tonne, but when they were at their peak, they were unstoppable. Feared throughout the galaxy. With our help, they could be that again. Even having the name attached to us would scare off any potential threats for a while. They are good fighters, they could teach our people ways we would never learn ourselves, and one day we could even be allies. Especially if this goes well.” She sits up when she speaks, and even though she’s only a few years older than you, she seems light years ahead. You understand why your father chose her.

“And as my friend?” She swings an arm over your shoulder.

“As your friend, I think you need this. I think that you haven’t changed a single thing about the palace since you have been crowned because you know once you do, this is real and your parents are gone. I think you know this is the right thing to do, but you’re scared, and you think that when you do this, you’ll finally be alone, and you hate that.” You’re thankful she’s not looking at you because you almost start crying as soon as she mentions your parents. “I think you know that this is different. That this could be a defining moment for you. For your reign. For the planet to come back after the Empire.”

“Why do you have to be right about everything?” You say tightly, and she helps you stand off the throne, leading you towards your bedroom through the maze of winding corridors.

“Just lucky. And, hey, don’t look so sad. Rumor has it he wears a very pretty beskar suit. All shiny and silver. You love shiny stuff.” She gestures at the hallways, all lined with golden and silver detailing. You nudge her on the shoulder and she laughs, peeling off before you open the door to your bedroom.

It was technically your parents room— the room you grew up in now vacated for your future offspring. You didn’t mind, using the room helped you feel a little bit closer to your parents. You remember all the times you’d climbed into bed with them, buried under the covers because you were afraid of the dark.

Kaylen was right. Corell was right, even if he was an asshole. It was selfish to not accept an offer. You hated that you couldn’t do more for your people, that all you had to offer was your arm, but if that was what you needed to do right now, you should just... suck it up. A Mandalorian, though. That was different. You knew they were feared, although scattered throughout the galaxy, and if their words were true, an entire planet of them would make you virtually impenetrable.

You couldn’t help but think about the King. Mandalorians were a confusing bunch, the few you had met, anyways. Very quiet, lethal as anything, and in your experience, solitary. Your mother had hired one years ago to collect a bounty for her, and he completed the four day job in three hours, arriving and leaving on his own, hardly talking if he didn’t have to. Why would someone like that want to be married?

Shrinking out of your outfit, you decided to try and get some sleep. If tomorrow was going to be anything like today, you’d need all the rest you could get, and for some reason, there was a racing in your heart you couldn’t settle. Maybe just nerves from the incoming visit to Mandalore tomorrow.

That had to be it. The myths, legends surrounding the cursed world— it would make anyone nervous. But it was just that. Nerves. It couldn’t be anything else.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian smut #mando #mando x you #mando x reader #mando x y/n #din djarin x y/n #din djaren x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin #star wars #star wars fic #pedro pascal

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commander-krios · 6 months

Text

Long Rest

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: f!Tav/Rolan Rating: General Summary: The final long rest before the battle with Ketheric Thorm brings a lot of fear and doubt, but there might be something worth hoping for. Or maybe someone. Words: 2000 Additional Tags: Act 2 spoilers, Flirting, Banter, Friendship, Tiefling Tav, Bard Tav, Developing relationship

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The night was the clearest it’d been since they’d entered the Shadow-Cursed Lands, the air feeling less oppressive, the mood much less grim. The rescue of both the gnomes and tieflings was successful, happy reunions making what was to come a little easier to bear.

Her nails plucked at the strings of her lute, the sound reverberating through her bones. A soft and sad melody was the only song she was capable of. Closing her eyes, she let the tune carry her mind far away from the Last Light Inn, from the troubles of her companions, or the threat of her tadpole. A cool breeze shifted her hair over her shoulder, the strands soft against her skin.

Her ears picked up the sounds of the night, of the clinking of goblets, of the laughter of friends and lovers. One last night before reality brought them to heel, before the fear they all hid behind smiles and soft caresses undid them.

She needed to rest soon. The impending battle against Ketheric was going to be difficult, she was sure of that, but with the Nightsong on their side, with his invulnerability reversed, they finally had a chance. But if she was being honest at all with herself, she doubted there was much of a chance of her sleeping.

Chatter drifted to where she sat, her legs dangling over the edge of the inn’s second floor deck, a world away from the merriment of the night before a battle. It was comforting in its own way, normal. She hadn’t enjoyed normal in so long.

“You look as bored as I feel.”

Juniper glanced up, a smile already on her lips when her eyes settled on Rolan standing awkwardly a few feet away, watching her through the dark with glowing yellow eyes. “Is that so?”

“Unless I’m interrupting something important, I was hoping to speak with you. Before you run off to save more unsuspecting people, that is.”

The sarcasm was not lost on her, but the familiar drone of his voice was comforting in a way she hadn’t expected. The feeling was not unwelcome.

Patting the empty spot beside her, she waited for Rolan to sit, adjusting his robes as he did so. When he finally looked in her direction, she grinned at him conspiratorially, enjoying how quickly his eyes slanted in suspicion. “What can I do for the magnificent Rolan?”

He huffed a laugh, hands resting flat against the wooden deck. He was silent, studying the people gathered. He struck a lovely profile, strong nose and jaw outlined in lamp light. Juniper found she couldn’t glance away. For all he complained about everyone, especially his siblings, Rolan cared for the people around him more than he was willing to admit.

After another moment, Rolan released a sigh. “I was an insufferable ass. Thank you, again, for letting Lia know how awfully I behaved. I’m sure to never hear the end of it.” His tone was chiding, but the small upturn of his lips was enough for her to know he was only teasing.

Strange. She didn’t think he was capable of such lightheartedness. Another pleasant surprise.

“You clearly care about them, Rolan. Deeply. Grief and fear make people act irrationally. There is no need to apologize.” She bumped his shoulder with hers gently, watching as his body swayed with the movement.

“You’re the most irritating bard I’ve ever met.” He muttered before returning his gaze to her, taking in every detail of her face in seconds. She could only imagine what he saw when he looked at her: dark freckles over lavender-grey skin, a deep scar across her cheek, strange blue eyes that she didn’t even know how she’d inherited.

Even among the tieflings, she felt like a stranger.

Juniper averted her eyes, trying to distract herself with her lute, but no song would come.

“But-” He continued, suddenly softer, almost as if he sensed the direction of her thoughts. “You’re also my favorite, if that means anything. You’re much too kind to me after how I acted.”

Her cheeks warmed and she realized, perhaps a little late, that she was blushing. She hadn’t done that in years. With a breathless laugh, she reached out before thinking, resting her hand on his arm and giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Alfira won’t take offense to that?”

“To what?” His eyes were focused on where she was touching him. It took him a moment to realize what she meant and he let out a laugh, a real smile finally curling his lips. “Ah, well, let’s just say that Alfira will be glad to know that I find someone else more bothersome than her.”

“I can’t tell if I’m supposed to be flattered or offended.” Juniper released her hold on his arm and immediately missed his warmth. She ran her fingers across the strings of her lute, the sound calming her nerves. “And where do I rank in regards to Cal and Lia?”

“Getting closer to the top of the list the more you speak.”

A bark of laughter escaped her mouth before she could stop it. “Oh! Was that a joke?”

Rolan chuckled, but couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. “It’s not a good place to be if you ask my siblings.”

“I don’t know, Rolan. I like the idea of being on your mind.” She paused in disbelief at the words that came from her mouth. Trying to cover the slip, she blurted out the first thing that came to her. “I… someone should remember me after all of this.”

She felt his gaze on her even as she turned to stare out over the inn’s grounds. Halsin and Jaheira were in the midst of a deep conversation, most likely about the upcoming battle. Astarion was drinking something with Shadowheart, the two of them laughing about something that had caught their eye. Karlach was standing outside the forge with Dammon and Wyll, the latter trying testing a new saber in his hand. Juniper didn’t see Gale or Lae’zel among them, but they were most likely preparing for battle in their own ways.

Rolan cleared his throat, but she refused to look at him, heat burning her cheeks again. “I’m sure many people out there will remember the woman who saved their lives.”

“None of them know me.” She muttered and for the first time since she came upstairs, Juniper felt sad for how things had happened. The tadpole in her head was only getting stronger, the fight getting more desperate, the fear that had gripped her at the start of her journey feeding upon itself. But the tiefling beside her didn’t need to hear any of that. It wasn’t his burden no matter how much she wished it was. Instead, she forced a smile, plucking the strings of her lute in a silly tune that only made her heart hurt more. “It doesn’t matter. We do what we must for those we care about, don’t we?”

Rolan shifted, tilting his head towards her, those eyes of his burning in the dark. “Yes, we do.”

The two of them sat in the following silence, Juniper watching her friends enjoy their evening, Rolan lost in his thoughts as he sat beside her. Her fingers plucked her lute again, the music and her strange new friend’s presence the only solace she had in these last moments. Maybe, this small slice of peace was all she deserved, after everything.

If so, Juniper would treasure it until the end.

The melancholy mood must’ve pierced him too because Rolan tapped his fingers against the wood, a drumming that almost made her smile again. “Speaking of those we care about… Since you wouldn’t accept coin for rescuing my wayward siblings, I got you a gift.”

“Your presence is gift enough for me, Rolan.”

Ignoring her, which she supposed was fair, he reached into the bag at his side, digging around as if searching for something. She watched him, lute silent as she wondered what in the world he was looking for. “Of course it is. I realize that, but I will never hear the end of Lia’s incessant complaints if I didn’t give you something.” Rolan produced a small disk of tempered metal from the bag before holding it out to her. Taking the object from him, the metal was cool against her skin, parts of it raised while other sections were smooth. Tiny sapphires glinted in the torchlight and she turned it to study the shape it formed in the center. A tree of some sort, tall and strong with bunched branches.

Her heart thudded against her ribs as she realized what it was. A Juniper tree.

“I couldn’t find anything that fit you. Not in the way you deserved. So I commissioned Dammon to create something different.” He paused as she turned it in her hand, the lanterns bathing the iron in a golden glow. “It’s a brooch for your cloak. I… uh… placed a warding spell on it. To protect you when you go with the Harpers to Moonrise.”

No one had ever made her a gift before. With a laugh that sounded a bit breathless even to her own ears, she glanced away from the beautiful gift to only find an even more lovely sight watching her through the darkness.

Rolan was smiling.

“Can’t have the savior of Faerun die on us, now can we?” His fingers plucked the brooch from her hand, raising an eyebrow expectantly. He still exuded his usual arrogance, but there was something softer in those molten eyes as he waited for her to respond.

Juniper nodded her head once, tongue tied, unsure of what she was agreeing to but she doubted she’d be able to find her voice even if she wanted to. When Rolan moved closer, her heart rate increased, the heat from his body comforting, almost like a warm hearth on a cold Baldurian winter day. She resisted the urge to touch him, her fingers digging into the wood of her lute, nerves and something else stilling her.

Rolan easily removed her current pin, something that she’d picked up in the Grove a lifetime ago, before dropping it on her lap. With a flourish that was definitely him showing off, he readjusted the cloak around her shoulders, fingers deftly securing his gift there instead. She felt the cool magic of the warding spell against her skin, and her heart felt lighter at the sensation.

When he pulled away, he was still grinning, and she felt something stir in her chest at the sight. “I hope you like it.”

“I like it when you smile.”

The words tumbled from her mouth before she realized, but she refused to take them back. Rolan wasn’t always to get along with, and maybe she did tease him more than he deserved, but she saw the man beneath the mask. He had more to lose than she did and she was proud of how much he was willing to do to protect that.

Rolan’s mouth dropped open slightly, brushing his hand against his neck nervously, eyes darting anywhere but her face. “Oh, thanks? That’s considerate of you to say.”

Juniper’s fingers brushed against the iron brooch at her throat, the magic there tingling against her skin. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Rolan. I’d like to see you smile more.”

Rolan coughed a laugh, finally managing to meet her eyes. “Once I’m in Baldur’s Gate, I will. But… you should visit me once you arrive. If you have time, of course. It’d be nice to see you outside of a life or death situation.”

She didn’t know if he understood what his words meant to her, but Juniper returned his words with a grin, hands refusing to stop touching his gift. It would bring her comfort in these difficult times. “I will, Rolan. It’ll be nice to see you in your element.”

She found she couldn’t wait for that day.

#my writing #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #rolan #bg3 rolan #tav #bg3 tav #rolan x tav #tav x rolan #tav: juniper #juniper x rolan #tiefling tav #bard tav

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zephyrstargame · 3 months

Text

well here's something I can do!

this is a little spin on an idea i've been seeing around that i think is wonderful... I personally, am not in the best financial place to be donating, but i can use my platform as a game developer to help out and do something cool at the same time :3

In exchange for donating esims to gaza, I'm gonna populate the world of Zephyr Star with your characters as NPCs! currently: OPEN!!

Here's the deal-- scurry on over to gazaesims.com to figure out how to buy and donate an esim to the people who need em-- any plan works for me, as long as you're gettin something out there!

then slip into my DMs (or anywhere else you can contact me directly) and show me a screenshot of the email, preferably with timestamps for proof that it's from after this post was posted... or really, any proof that you did do the thing-- also show me:

a reference image for what character you want me put in the game

what this character should say as an NPC (just a few lines at most) (optional; if you'd like i can just write some general dialogue instead)

how you would like to be credited in the in-game credits (ie what name i should put)

below the cut are some submission guidelines and extra notes, please also read that if you're interested :>

here are some general submission guidelines:

nothing too lewd, please!

or racist

or otherwise offensive

fandom ocs MIGHT be fine if they're Legally Distinct enough from the source material, but try not to get me sued here

In general, this game's world has No Humans, but that's not a strict requirement-- just a general suggestion

and keep in mind that characters with super intricate details might have to be simplified in order to work as pixel art

otherwise, anything works! furries, robots, sentient objects, your cat, whatever

and here's some notes, so you know what to expect:

i'll take anywhere between a few hours to a few days to finish, depends on how i'm feeling... either way, i'll tag you in a new post when i'm done!

the character will be done in small pixel art, with maybe some additional effects if i feel it works for the design

i will adjust the sprite size depending on the character-- an average sized character is drawn on a 32x32 canvas but if it's like a giant or really tall or something, i'd make it bigger so that the scale is accurate

everyone also gets a zoomed in headshot for the dialogue portrait

no secret bosses, shopkeepers, or other special story purpose for now, sorry! these are just some guys that stand around and say 1 or 2 lines as you go about your adventure

im putting the characters in various places at random, but if you want your guy to be in a certain type of location in-game let me know

this game is STILL in relatively early development-- but i do promise that each and every submission will be in there by the end! it might take yeaaaars for the full game to finally be out, but i'll be posting screenshots as I put em in the game so you know im not slacking around :>

and alongside the screenshot, i'll also post the sprites on their own if you'd like to save them for yourself

legal stuff uhhhhh im not good at legal stuff-- by participating, you are giving me permission to use your submitted character in the final game-- credit will be given in-game where you would expect to see it (the credits) and i will not claim ownership of any of your guys

(cartoon mafia boss voice) if at any point you want your character scrubbed out of the game, or you want anything changed, let me know in my DMs or anywhere else you can contact me and *click* *sinister laugh* we'll make it happen

no money goes to me ever, im not even gonna be the middlesnake between you and the esims-- i just think its less of a hassle to work this way -w-

did i get everything? i think that's everything... if i forgot something important sorry i'm a scatterbrain failgirl who has never done anything like this before im trying my best okay

may the rift be filled with your cool little guys! but more importantly, let's keep gaza connected! free palestine! 🍉

#free palestine #esims for gaza #game development #indiedev

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 1 year

Note

Hello, there ♡ I saw your requests are back open and I was wondering if I could request some more Thranduil smut where the reader (female human) has a nightmare or is just deeply upset over something (whichever you prefer) and he comforts her, but then it slowly turns into a slow burn fuck sesh 🔥🔥 thank you so much. I hope you are having a good week.

Well hello there! I had a great week, I hope it was the same for you! Now, onto your request.

"Light after darkness"

✨Pairing: Thranduil x Fem. Reader (Human / Second person POV)

✨Themes: Some angst | Smut | Soft

✨ Word count: 3k words

✨Rating: 🔥🔥 | Minors DNI | 18+

Summary: A bad nightmare and waking up in the dark ends up with something much lighter and sweeter.

✨ Author's notes: "Girdle of Varda" is a band of countles stars similar to the Milky Way.

Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.

The vision returned, darker and more sinister this time.

It started as an inky black mist rolling in, and the world went dark. Lightning struck like a lance, its flash splitting the sky, but little could be seen, save for shadows in the gloom. Ugly things, ones only found in the darkest pits, slithered about, muttering in a tongue that was foul and torturous to listen to. There were flashes of terror and suffering, and there was laughter, coldness, and cruelty. There was the glint of steel, of eyes glinting like red, hot coals. And the pain, sharp and intense, returned, with memories of a dark time flooding in like waves crashing over jagged rocks.

And that flood only grew, with those waves rising higher and higher. Your heart lurched at the next flash of lightning, at the glint of a sword, at the sound of a beast pounding over muddy earth. You caught the subtle sheen of armour, the agonizing sounds of frantic screams. Red eyes flashed in the darkness again, hot and angry this time, rushing towards you, and then —

"Starlight?" a comforting voice called out from the darkness, pulling you out of the dream and slowly into waking. "Starlight, are you all right?"

You jerked awake, a silent scream trapped in your throat. The utter clarity and terror of that nightmare left you shaken and cold, and you trembled, your eyes barely making out the outlines of a large room. "It's dark," you said in a panic, your chest heaving heavily. "Why is it dark?"

You heard nothing, save for the muffled sound of feet over thick carpets. A candle was lit, its soft, golden light dispelling some of the gloom. Someone walked over to the large, arched windows, opening them to a wide expanse of the night sky. Sheer drapes fluttered in the cool breeze. And how beautiful the sky was! Countless stars glittered against an endless field of inky black, with the Girdle of Varda and a pale full moon standing out against them all. How comforting it was to see that sky after weeks of darkness, the light of that candle, but most important of all, the face of the ellon who made his way back to your side.

"Are you well, starlight?" He studied you, his eyes filled with growing worry. "You were struggling in your sleep."

"Bad dreams again," you tried to take a deep, steadying breath to try and compose yourself. "From before and..." You began to weep then, shedding sad, bitter tears, as the memory of your capture kept flooding back. Thranduil felt helpless, unable to defend you from an enemy he could not fight or even see. It made him angry—so very angry, that he couldn't shield you from the horrors that plagued you some nights. In the end, he settled on the one thing he could do. He joined you in bed, gathering you in his arms and holding you while you wept.

Tears fell, hard and relentless, and you clung to Thranduil's robes, your chest heaving painfully against his. And Thranduil refused to let go, holding you silently without complaint. His presence was a great comfort, and his touch was soothing. You lost track of time, so lost were you in your grief. And it slowly passed, with your tears easing and your sobs quieting. The pain you felt ebbed, and yet you felt empty instead of light.

"Do you wish to talk about it, starlight?" Thranduil's voice was warm and deep as it cut through the haze.

"Tis the same as before," you choked, nestling into him. "A foul mist and lightning. Daggers and those ugly red eyes. Then a sword flashed in the darkness. Your elk pawing at the earth. Screams." Your eyes drifted down, to your exposed left arm. "The pain."

Thranduil ran a careful finger over the scars on your forearm, a gift from your orc captors. "Does it still hurt?"

You shook your head. "Not anymore. But I can still feel the blade. And I hate it. I hate how it looks. How it makes me look." You sniffled again when you went over those scars, all words, all in the black tongue of Mordor. No amount of healing could make them go away, and you were bound to carry them for the rest of your days. "I feel ugly."

How Thranduil hated it, hearing you talk like that. He couldn't bear to hear you talk of yourself that way. "You are beautiful starlight, and it pains me to hear you talk of yourself that way."

"But look at these!" You cried and stuck out your arm, so he could see. "They will never go away, so how can you say that I am?"

Thranduil took your hand into his and lifted it to his lips. "I am not blind to them, starlight. I say you are beautiful because you are. Remember your first night after waking up?" His pulse scrambled with each little kiss when his lips pressed against your skin, at the scent that filled his lungs—the sweet scent of you. "When you were strong enough to dine with the rest of us?"

Your cheeks warmed; how could you forget? Thranduil was the first to rise when you walked in, his eyes fixed on you and no other. He had insisted you sit next to him, and he spent almost the entire night talking and dancing with you. "I thought you had never seen a mortal before me," you managed a weak smile.

"Hah!" Thranduil guffawed, his lips skimming over your fingers. "Mortals, I deal with plenty. You on the other hand? I have never seen anyone like you, and I could not keep my eyes off you. You were a vision that night... You are a vision, starlight. I wish we had met under happier circumstances, but I am glad we did. I would not change the past several moons for anything."

You barely remembered the first few days of your rescue. All you did have were hazy memories of that battle, of opening your eyes and seeing Thranduil for the first time, the fall of his silver-blonde hair, the steel of his armor, the cloak that kept you warm on the ride back to his halls. Still, those first memories of him, blurred as they were, were so precious to you. "I would not change one thing either, save for maybe this."

Thranduil's lips left your fingers and trailed down your arm, barely skimming over the scars. "You are beautiful, starlight," he breathed softly. "Will you let me show you just how beautiful you are?"

You hummed sweetly, all too aware of the heavy thud of your own heart. And to have him take his time to make you feel good? Well, you were not going to say no to that. "Yes," you said, your breath hitching when his eyes darkened.

Thranduil took his time, slowly unburdening you of your robes and unburdening himself of his. He started by touching you first, letting his hands glide all over your body, slowly and gently, like he was touching you for the first time. And he trembled, his breath soft and tremulous, his hands shaking as they continued with their gentle exploration. "Just feeling your naked skin against mine is enough to make me weak," he murmured, delighting in the little gasp he heard. "So soft, and I cannot get enough of it."

His touch slowly grew insistent, and his light brushes grew a little rougher, a little greedier. His hands were everywhere, over your thighs, your belly, the soft swell of your breasts, deft fingers kneading at your flesh. You shivered, your body slowly easing over soft, silk sheets, your fingers digging into the fabric. Thranduil saw this and groaned under his breath. He had only just begun.

He moved over you, his thighs pushing yours apart. Propping himself on one elbow, Thranduil continued with his exploration, his soft, luscious lips just hovering over yours. His free hand kept gliding over your belly, over trembling muscles, and his eyes locked on you. And those eyes of his, burning bright even in the light of that single candle, the blue of them as vibrant as a clear morning sky. That was the only first clear memory you had of him after your rescue: opening your eyes and finding him looking down at you on the ride back. A gasp then ripped through you when his hand came back to your breasts, stroking the soft skin, his fingers drawing little circles, then pinching lightly at first, then growing rougher, until it felt like your entire body was aching. Flushed and breathless, you moved a hand over his, trying to guide him.

"No," Thranduil gently ordered, his lips brushing over yours. "Not tonight."

You swallowed and moved your hands over your head, your body pulsing as he continued, brushing his fingers over your throat, your lips, and your eyelids.

You were everything he wanted, needed, even. And he didn't stop. Not with his hand, not with his lips. Thranduil kept brushing his lips over yours, savouring the sweetness of your mouth and he felt it—the slow pin-pricks of desire smolder and grow stronger, degree by slow degree. Hunger threatened to overcome him, but he forced himself to hold back just a little longer. He wanted to taste more of you first.

Your back arched against him, and you sighed helplessly when he dipped his head, his lips and his tongue leaving a damp trail in their wake. "I cannot get over how sweet you taste," he mumbled against your throat, his teeth nipping at your skin. "Just thinking about my lips against your skin is enough to make me hard."

You pulled away and looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes, searching for any sign of a lie or a tease. There was nothing but love and dark hunger burning in them.

"D-do you m-mean it?" you still asked, as doubt slowly sunk its claws into you. Thranduil was the Elvenking, an ellon who could have had anyone he wanted, and yet he chose you, a mere mortal with a scarred arm. His choice shocked many, and you were constantly worried despite his promise of devotion.

His eyes grew serious as his hand went lower, to the apex of your thighs. "I mean it, starlight, every word of it," his voice was thick and hoarse, a groan escaping his lips when you arched your back again, your mouth parting in a soft moan as his fingers rubbed up against your heat.

There was no talking now, just feeling. Thranduil watched, his blood heating at the sight of you writhing beneath him. He wanted to see, truly see, what pleasure was like on you, and he was not disappointed. Intoxicating, was what it was, and he took his time, drinking in the myriad of expressions that washed over your countenance—the looks of shock, desire, and pure ecstasy. Thranduil enjoyed it all, committing everything to memory.

"No starlight," he denied you when you tried to move your hand over his once more. "Not tonight. Let me take care of you."

Oh, how he took care of you, running the pads of his fingers over the warmth of your slit, your little pearl. And how it thrilled you—how it sent jolt after jolt of intense pleasure washing all over your body. Having to keep your hands to yourself and letting him take control—it all felt so wonderful and so very erotic. And then he slid a finger in, gently curling it around your pulsing walls, pulling shameless moan after shameless moan out of you.

"You are made for me," Thranduil's breath had grown ragged, his eyes feasting on the sight of you moving frantically, how you bucked against his hand. And how his heart pounded against his chest as you continued to writhe beneath him, your walls clenching around his finger. "Just me. And look at how glorious you are right now, starlight. Look at how your body responds... I could spend all day in our chambers like this, just watching you."

"Th-thranduil," you whimpered weakly, your body slowly unraveling beneath him. You were unsure what heated you more, his words or his touch. "D-dont stop. P-please."

The king growled in approval, his own body aflame. "That first night with us," he crooned huskily, his lips skimming over the shell of your ear. "When you came to eat with us, and I saw you, I thought I had strayed into a dream. I could not keep my eyes off of you, starlight."

"M-more," you pleaded, your body tingling at his words, your muscles tightening more and more with each passing second. "P-please my k-king."

Thranduil was almost undone by that alone. And he felt it—your thighs shaking, your walls slowly tightening. He withdrew his finger and positioned himself, his lips just a hair's breadth over yours. "Your body is intoxicating," he breathed, trembling when the tip of his cock rubbed against your slick. "Fuck," he mumbled, his very breath shuddering. Thranduil swallowed and forced himself to focus. He was not going to move along blindly. He wanted you to feel as much pleasure as he did.

And you could no longer bear not touching him. You could no longer bear this waiting. You reached over, twining your arms around his broad shoulders and tracing lines between his shoulder blades. "I'm ready," you whispered. "Please, my king. I need to feel you inside of me again."

Thranduil's gaze cut to yours. There was nothing but lust shining in his eyes and it thrilled you to have him look at you like that.

"Please," you pleaded once more. "I need you inside me."

Thranduil hesitated briefly. Just briefly. He looked at you, eyes filled with reverence, his free hand brushing over your hair. You looked up at him, the two of you staring at each other in wonder. There was a pause. The very air seemed to still. And then, his mouth captured yours in a kiss. His kiss seared, his mouth hot and hungry as his lips plundered yours. Your heart fluttered when he pressed himself against you and his tongue licked past your parted lips to dip into the warmth of your mouth. A noise rose at the back of your throat, a soft, needy moan, something dark and sinful, enticing him to kiss you even more. Your arms tightened over his shoulders, and your legs scrambled for purchase against his hips. You felt it—him piercing your core, his cock sinking inch by slow inch, pushing you deeper into the bed. And oh, how good it felt to have him inside you, filling you to the hilt. Belonging to him, just him. Oh, how you loved that, knowing you were his. And then he moved. His first thrust ripped a gasp out of you; the second, a dreamy sigh.

Thranduil was slow and deliberate. His thrusts were gentle and steady, as if he didn't want to shock you, or cause you pain. All you could do was cling to him, your body tightening again with each passing moment. It was always like this, always so good, and only he could make you feel like this, take you higher and higher, to places you have never been before.

Thranduil's breath quickened and grew ragged. He grunted when your hands moved up and buried themselves in his thickhair. Those grunts grew deep and gutteral and turned to moans every time you tugged, every time you pulled him closer to you. Feeling your naked skin against his hammered at his restraint, and he slowly picked up the pace, going harder and faster, his hips slamming against the inside of your thighs. His moans matched yours, his free hand kept gripping at your hip, so he could go deeper. And how he loved it, how you held him, how your body responded to him.

"You are perfect starlight," he rasped, rough and deliberate, when your hands moved back down to his shoulders and your nails dug into his skin. Thranduil didn't mind it one bit, for it meant you found pleasure in what he was doing. "You are perfect even with your scars, and I would not change a single thing about you."

You would have replied, but your answer was muffled by his kiss. It didn't matter. Hearing that he fully accepted you, scars and all, was enough. Seeing and hearing how strong his desire was for you was enough. You cleaved to him, your legs clinging desperately against his hips as he took you closer and closer to the edge. It was there, in the trembling of your thighs and in the quickening of your breath. Thranduil felt it—the coiling of muscles in his belly, the frantic pace of his breathing. "Together then?"

You looked up at him and nodded.

Moans spilled free and filled the room, drowning the sound of skin slapping against skin.Thranduil didn't let you go, not when your orgasm ripped through you and you cried for him, his name repeatedly rolling past your lips. Oh, how that shattered him—his name on your tongue, your walls clenching around his cock. Thranduil took you over the edge and fell with you, his moans peppering the air when those coiled muscles snapped, making him lose himself in you. You barely heard it, so caught up were you in your blissed-out state. You barely heard it, the satisfying grunt, the gruff, throaty moan. You felt his body trembling violently over yours before he spilled his seed inside you. One last thrust, one final moan, and he let go, propping himself on his hands to stop himself from collapsing over you.

You hear nothing, save for the sound of your choppy breathing and his. Only that and a sweet smelling wind that blew in through the windows. You opened your eyes to that glorious sky, those glittering stars, and the soft light of the moon. You hungered for such sights, to see light after being kept in the darkness for so long, and Thranduil made it possible again, in more ways than one.

"My king," you breathed when Thranduil moved to his side, taking you with him. The strength of his arms and the gentleness of his touch were nearly enough to make you forget. Nearly. The memories will always remain, but you knew you would be safe in his arms and that nothing could get to you now.

"My queen," Thranduil brushed his nose against your hair. He then started to hum an elven lullaby, his soft, soothing voice lulling you into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Tags: @shrasdust | @asianbutnotjapanese | @nupppuff | @ryantryan6969 | @viivi

#thranduil imagine #thranduil smut #thranduil x reader #Thranduil #The hobbit #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit imagine #reader requests #reader inserts #Asks #Writeblr #a world of whimsy writes

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5ummit · 1 year

Text

New Mandatory #NSFW Mature Label

I rarely post NSFW content so I'm not sure how long this has been a thing, but just a heads up, if you use the #NSFW tag, tumblr will now automatically apply the mature content label to your post.

A few important notes:

(1) You can't remove this label. Well that's not 100% true, on original posts you can manually change the label back to "everyone." However, if you save or publish the post with #NSFW still included, the mature label will automatically be reapplied. Aka it's now impossible (with the new editor) to publish a post tagged as #NSFW that's not flagged as "mature."

(2) The mature label is also applied to reblogs tagged with #NSFW. This is where we get into a bit of a problem. Community labels on reblogs are not normally editable. The option is grayed out (as you can see above), which means that once you add the #NSFW tag to a reblog, even if you decide to later remove it, that post will forever be labelled "mature" and locked away from any of your followers who filter those posts out (remember mature filters are turned ON for everyone by default). As far as I can tell tagging a reblog as #NSFW does NOT apply the label to the post globally though, it's just on your own blog, but it's still not ideal.

(3) This only works when using "#NSFW" on its own. If any other text is included in the tag the auto-applied community label is not triggered.

(4) No other tag (that I've been able to find) has a mandatory community label. What's interesting is I did find an official @changes post from about 6 months ago stating that tumblr "will add the pertinent label to the post automatically" when the label is used as a tag, with #violence even being explicitly provided as an example, but I tried it (along with as many other "mature" tags as I could think of) and it didn't work. #NSFW appears to be the only one, at least right now.

Not being allowed to use the #NSFW tag without a mature label is annoying, particularly for those who are overly cautious about tagging it even when it may not be necessary and particularly since it's uneditable when applied to reblogs. However, I'm not going to outright say this new "feature" is 100% a bad thing and that everyone should get up in arms about it. This post is just meant to make you aware of it.

Most posts tagged as NSFW probably should be labelled "mature" and I bet most people just forget to do it or may not even know about community labels in the first place. As much as I want to return to the old "go nuts, show nuts" tumblr, I'm aware that's never going to happen and this new community label system is our only way forward. If there's any hope of tumblr ever broadening the mature content guidelines and getting us closer to where we were before (yes, I know it's a longshot), this system has to work and it only works if people use it.

#tumblr #psa #my words #wendy's help desk

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fcknstar · 11 months

Note

hey! i read ur marcus lopez fic and absolutely loved it ur so talented omg

i’m as wondering if i could request a fic with prompt 12 with marcus lopez x reader?

🫶

and if so could you also add me to your tag list?

,, after dark "

pairings : marcuslopez x gn!reader

summary : sometimes your past do catches up to you.

content warnings : disagreements

** lowercase intended**

if saying that you had your life together was an understatement. you were working for the biggest and most respected mafias in the country. it was normal to see at least one dead body in the alleyway. a lifeless body, dumped as if it had no worth that got pushed away as a broken furniture no one saw worthy to save.

you were just an assistant who also worked as a hitman, being payed high for even injuring a targeted person. it gave you joy, you wanted to feed on souls that deserved nothing but death to come. you sucked in life of your victims, craving more and more as if it was like food and you were always hungry.

your boss set you out to raid an abandoned apartment to where homed a filthy rich man who unfortunately died due to a heart attack. he kept many important documents that your boss wanted and tonight, thats where you were headed.

you were clothed in a black skin-tight long sleeved top and short skirt which allowed you to hide your dagger, with a pistol on your waistline. when the time calls for it, you were going to be the one to kill whoever saw you and got in your way.

you had not noticed the figure which hid in the shadows watching your every move. as you rummaged through the drawers, you heard something drop. you spun around, gripping onto your gun as you pointed to the person standing in front of you.

" marcus? "

" hey, i was just dropping by- "

" you arent supposed to be here, you know. " you advanced towards him, watching him stumble backwards.

" well, neither should you. why dont you put the gun down, honey? " earning a glare from you, you made a move, linking your leg under his making him fall on his back.

" oh, i remember this. " as you stood above him, he mumbled.

" ignoring your favorite person i see.. its okay.. i bet the memories follow you around dont they. " you dont hesitate but kick his side making him groan.

" leave this place, act like we never even crossed paths. " you sigh, walking away from him.

" dont you miss me? "

" no i dont. and i will not. "

" but seeing you stalk me says otherwise.. how you constantly follow me wherever i go.. i suppose i am grateful that you are looking out for me. " marcus pouted.

you could not accept how right he had been. you were so in love with marcus that you knew itd be difficult to start a life without him. but you could. for all these years before meeting him shows how you could live without him. but why cant you do the same knowing what you two have been through. how could you when the only thing that occupied your mind was him. how he often thought of your life first and put his own life on the line to save you. how could you ever want to leave someone like him. it was now your turn to look after him when he did everything to protect you. even if as strangers, you knew that you still wanted to be on his wavelength.

" look, i know we left on terms we didn't agree on due to our statuses, but you can't blame me to not.. look for you. " it felt like you pulled a nerve when you confessed the last part.

" but you did. "

" i had to okay! what would you do if you are being given a choice, to get your lover killed.. or have your own blood throw you away like youre some meat, even having them turn their back against you? i knew i was being selfish okay? i.. i just cant imagine having you die.. not when i know i could have done something. or me dying. so im sorry if i was being selfish, it was either you dying, or me. and you know what i would have picked. " you were now going on a tangent, gun placed away in its holder, with you rummaging through the drawers. you grabbed every document you could find. marcus just looked at you.

" im sorry, okay? i just wanted you, you to be safe and well. " you could have just chosen to have your family killing you, but in the moment, you just had to. it was either him being dead because you wanted to survive. or him being alive at the cost of your freedom.

marcus never saw the side of your story, too busy grieving with his own. he watched you walk away as if he werent there. as if, he didnt mean anything to you anymore. but he knew, he knew that you loved him enough to save him without even thinking.

a.n : m not very proud with this, dont know why. and to the person who requested this, thank you but sorry because i couldn't tag you, its not letting me. and so sorry for the long wait!

#imagines #oneshots #marcus lopez imagine #marcus lopez x reader #marcus lopez arguello #mattheo riddle #benjamin wadsworth #mattheoxreader #mattheo x you #answered

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angelltheninth · 1 year

Text

Fake to Real Boyfriend Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, fake relationship, clothes sharing, protectiveness, neck kissing, hickies, suggestive, hair-pulling (for Bucky), clubbing, PDA

A/N: Bucky so hot, so cute, there's no way what you feel for him would be fake. At least not for long.

Fake boyfriend Bucky who accepts the role of your boyfriend when you go clubbing. He knows when to swoop in to save the day and how much he can push things with you without going overboard. The boundaries you set were important to him, without them he would have never said yes to this.

Fake boyfriend Bucky who keeps his metal arm swung around your shoulders the whole time you sit next to him in the booth, holding you against his chest. When you want a drink he reaches for it and offers you a sip before putting it back down on the table.

Fake boyfriend Bucky who makes a show of teasing you only when you tease him first. You offering him a taste of your drink has him reaching back for it, only for you to get to it first and take a sip before straddling his lap and leaning down. You're being very bold tonight, this is attracting way more attention then usual. You're not drunk already are you? The drink tastes sweet when you make him drink it from your mouth, his tongue licking at your lips and kissing the drops off your chin.

Fake boyfriend Bucky who holds you close as you fall against his chest, whispering how you're taking things a bit far tonight. Are you sure you're feeling alright? Did something happen while he was getting drinks? Does he need to go... talk to someone for you. Not at all, he needs to stay right where he is, its where you want him most right now.

Fake boyfriend Bucky who finds you to be very cute when you get all cuddly on him. It's not his place to think that, he's only supposed to be protecting you but when you look at him like that, when you're straddling him like that and playing with the little hairs on the back of his neck he almost wishes this was real, that he could kiss you and mean every little detail of it.

Fake boyfriend Bucky who puts his leather jacket over you when he goes to get another drink. You feel safe with it on, wrapped up on a thick scent of leather, metal and his favorite cologne. You always feel more bold when he's around, perhaps the reason for your actions tonight. He'd always been able to make your heart skip a beat and stomach burst with happy butterflies, a familiar heat settling between your legs as you watch him waltz back and set the drinks on the small table again.

Fake boyfriend Bucky who kisses your cheek to calm you down when he sees how flustered you seem, how quick your breathing is. Do you want to go home for tonight, he'd more then happy to escort you if you feel tired. The thought of the night ending so soon, before you get the chance to tell him how you feel has you quickly straddling him again, the look on your face almost painful.

Fake boyfriend Bucky who holds you close when you feel upset. It doesn't even need to be in public, which only makes the line between what's fake and what's real blurrier for both of you. It becomes hard to tell which of his, or your actions are just for show and which ones are your feelings bubbling to the surface and unwillingly making themselves known.

Fake boyfriend Bucky who isn't good with his words so he seeks to distract you with kisses on your neck. Soft ones as opposed to the kind he would leave when he needs to make someone jealous or make them leave you alone. He's not supposed to do this without you asking but how can he ignore you when you're hurting and in need.

Fake boyfriend Bucky who lets you pull on his hair and push him closer, who licks the expanse of your neck as you bare it to him in the dim, sensual lighting. This is crossing so many of boundaries for both of you, not that either of you care, you need this, you need comfort, you need to kiss him, you need to take him home and get his clothes off and moan his name, no longer in dreams but in reality, finally letting him know how you really feel.

Fake boyfriend Bucky who kisses you with unyielding passion and hunger, his hand cold on your heated thigh as he breathing becomes labored against your neck. How much longer can he keep this charade going without his emotions being known to you?

Fake boyfriend Bucky who becomes nervous when you make it to your place and you start kissing your way down his chest and his body. He can't do this without letting you know he likes you, the words leaving his mouth right as you unzip his pants. You smile against him, looking up at him, echoing his statement before your mouth gets busy.

#bucky barns x reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fluff #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel headcanons #marvel x you #marvel x female reader #marvel fluff #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #mcu headcanons #mcu x you #mcu fluff

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kopw · 10 months

Text

g1 season is upon us! i'm too lazy to gif every match myself! the world needs gifmakers like you! yes you!

this guide includes: basic gifmaking, actions, how to blur on-screen graphics, coloring tips catered specifically to wrestling footage (mainly aew and njpw), how to add subtitles, what tags to use

what you will need:

photoshop (i currently use cc 2017 for windows which you can grab from this post by birdysources)

kmplayer (for extracting frames)

what you might need depending on what you're looking to gif:

4k video downloader (for downloading videos off youtube)

vkopt (browser extension that lets you download videos off vk)

step 1: getting the footage

if you're directly downloading from a site this step is super easy. just make sure to always go for the highest quality of footage available (for njpw this is nowhere near 1080p, and even aew's 1080p footage is pixelated in places—but don't let this deter you!)

if you plan on giffing something off a ppv, chances are you might need to torrent the event. if you can, look for versions off fite with either web or webrip in the title for the best quality. this applies to weekly television too (fite doesn't have picture-in-picture). always seed your torrents. yes, even that one match from 2012. especially that one

you can also get recent shows off watchprowrestling dot co (previously org) which includes njpw tour shows and indie events as well. check out indy★wrestling★group on vk for smaller promotions and japanese promotions outside of njpw (tjpw, stardom, noah...)

step 2: choosing a clip

wrestling footage quality is not consistent. entrances with too many flashing lights or small particles will have huge quality drops, so unless it's something really special, don't put yourself through that. close-ups are generally your best friend but don't shy away from clips with lots of movement (you do sometimes want to gif the wrestling parts of wrestling too)

step 3: extracting frames

open your video in kmplayer. go to the part that you want to gif (though, i suggest leaving a bit of fodder before and after the actual clip. you can always trim the frames down later and it's better to start off with more). then, press ctrl + g

this should bring up this window:

your settings might be different if it's your first time downloading the app so just copy what you see here

kmplayer automatically captures into its own folder, which you can change if you want, but i just left it as is. i recommend pinning the folder you regularly use to the quick access menu in your file explorer

hit start, start the video, let it capture frames for however long, and then hit stop on both the extractor and the video itself. and now you have a bunch of frames in a folder. cool!

step four: converting frames to layers

open photoshop. this will take ages but open it. go to file -> scripts -> load files into stack...

this will bring up this window:

click browse... and select all the frames you just extracted. depending on the number of frames, this might take you a bit. then hit ok and let your layers load into photoshop. this will take a long time (saying this as someone whose laptop tends to heat up to the temperature of an egg pan at this point in the process)

step five: actions

i use actions (user-built series of recorded commands, meaning you don't have to click everything manually) for everything except coloring. i use a mishmash of like three different actions that i never bothered to organize. these are the two most important ones:

actionpack #1 by giulia (i use the setup and save portions from this one)

squishmoon actions by lildohnut (i use the hd sharpening from here, first layer on 0.3 for close-ups and 0.2 otherwise, and the second layer at the suggested 50%)*

*most sharpening settings you'll find are made for current films and tv shows so you do have to make some adjustment to fit your crunchy wrestling footage

step six: sizing

pick a size for your gif! here is a handy chart:

as for height, it can range anywhere from 300px-540px and beyond. most people go for 350px-450px. 400px is the sweet spot

personal preference: adjust canvas size not image size and fit your footage accordingly. some footage (looking at you aew) can have an odd black bar at the bottom, and manual resizing can help getting rid of it. if you just resize the whole image that will stay there and bother you

additional tip: guidelines

9/10 times you will leave your footage centered. however, there are times when this can look a bit awkward, depending on the framing, in which case i like bringing in a few guidelines. go to view -> new guide layout...

rule of thirds is generally good for drawing the eye to certain places. these settings will divide your canvas into nine squares that help you reposition your main gif layer

optional step: blurring pop-up graphics and banners

so, you have your sharpened, resized gif... but the sharpening made the small text and other unwanted elements on your screen shrivel up like raisins. you can leave it as is, people won't mind, it's a wrestling gif, who cares. but, if you want, you can just blur it out

i'm at least a little bit certain that i'm personally the guy who brought this over from k-pop tumblr (not saying i invented the concept, i just love being a trendsetter) and so i can give you a few reasons as to why people do this. such as:

adding subtitles over pre-existing, burnt subtitles (example: njpw post-match comments off njpwworld and not youtube)

getting rid of elements that might distract people from the focal point of the gif (the hotties... and the moves. mostly the hotties)

it makes your otherwise milquetoast sharpening look a little better in contrast

it's gonna be ugly either way so it's a pick your poison type of situation. if you do want to try the blurring method, you will need a basic knowledge of filters and layer masks

step-by-step blurring process:

duplicate your gif layer

blur the layer on top (i typically go for a 4.0 gaussian blur; for this, go to filter -> blur -> gaussian blur...)

apply a layer mask to the blurred layer and make the layer mask black (this will remove the blur effect, don't be scared). to access the layer mask just click on it. you can press alt before clicking to "enter" the layer mask (though you won't see your gif this way)

go in with a soft round brush (or any brush) with white and draw over the bits you want blurred. this is the tedious part

profit?

here's a comparison:

it's really down to personal preference ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

i convert my base gif layer and the blurred layer into a smart object before moving on with my process because sometimes photoshop likes to do this thing where it only applies the blur to the frame you're on. you can avoid this by combining the layers manually

if you're working with njpw footage and your clip plus coloring combination allows you to, you can also just go over the banner with black and blend it into the background. it's by far the best option but there's so rarely an opportunity to utilize it (i did it in the little header i made... go back and look at how beautiful she is)

step six: coloring

the big one. oh boy. prefacing this with: you can just skip coloring if you want. the sharpening settings i recommended earlier give a nice contrast to the gifs as is, so if it looks fine like that, you don't need any fancy colors. that being said...

my thought process going into coloring is to focus on skin tones and adjust everything around them. i don't tend to use psds, i always just manually color correct based on the actual footage i'm working with (venues differ, lighting differs, hues differ... incredibly hard to plan for all of it in advance). if i plan on making multiple gifsets of the same event/match, i do re-use settings, but sometimes minor adjustments are still needed

to begin coloring, you will need to use adjustment layers. you will pretty much need a basic knowledge of all of them (to the extent of knowing what the sliders and values do)

[1] i always begin with an exposure layer. this will remain above all of your layers (unless you plan on adding subtitles). here are my settings:

again, every layer you add after this will go below your exposure layer

[2] i add a selective color layer to further adjust the blacks. this will vary gif to gif but keep your adjustments small

[3] i add a vibrance layer. wrestling footage has major saturation problems that you can manage early on to make your life easier. take back a tiny bit (usually from -3 to -5) of vibrance before you begin your other color adjustments

[4] this is the big skin tone adjustment step using a curves layer. it does most of the heavy-lifting in my process. here is a video tutorial that explains the technique i use. it works the same with gifs as it does with images. the key differences are:

the image you are color picking off of shouldn't be a limited skin tone chart but rather an image of the wrestler(s) in natural (or as close to natural as you can find) lighting. i just go for renders used on the roster page. fan photography is way too edited to use here

try picking from a darker area of skin (shadows, midtones). it fits better with match lighting

this step will most likely correct color tints, but keep in mind that different promotions/shows/venues have different lighting. here are my personal observations:

aew dynamite and rampage have strong magenta tints

aew collision and roh honor club have strong red tints

njpw has a washed out blue tint

impact has a strong green tint

you can either lean into these (play around with making them really vibrant) or cancel them out using opposites on the color wheel (for example: to get rid of the magenta tint on dynamite, either decrease the magenta slider in your neutrals using selective color or add more green using color balance)

you will almost always have to add more cyan as well (either using color balance or channel mixer; channel mixer can also help you fine-tune skin tones with its blue tab—don't get rid of yellow undertones!)

[5] here is where i start fiddling around with manual adjustments that i seriously can't help you with... just add layers and change colors until you think it feels right. don't be afraid to start over if needed

[6] finishing touches! if you're like me you will have overcolored in the previous step. don't be afraid to add a saturation layer and decrease specifically the saturation of the reds (this will affect the skin tone; if you feel like you're on the right track but it's just too orange-looking, it's a saturation issue)

i also tend to add a black & white layer below the exposure layer up top set to soft light and lowered to 10% opacity. this gives you a bit of additional contrast that pulls the final gif together in my opinion

optional step: adding subtitles and watermarks

always add text layers above your coloring!

[1] subtitles

the font i use for subtitles is arial rounded mt bold, which you can download for free here. the point of subtitles is for them to be readable, so feel free to use any other font as long as it can be read with ease (nothing too thin or too blocky). if you plan on using the font i use, make sure to set it on faux bold and faux italics

font size differs based on the size of your gif, but it should normally be between 17pt and 23pt. i like to keep my tracking (letter-spacing) the same as my font size (so for 21pt subtitles i would have the tracking also at 21). i keep leading (the space between multiple lines of text) 3pt or 4pt

if there are two people speaking, i like setting the second speaker's text color to #ffd300. this is a generic yellow caption color that is still easy to read

after you have your basic text done, right click on your layer to add blending options. adding a stroke and a drop shadow can further help bring your text to the foreground. I keep my stroke (hah) at a simple 1px black. here are my drop shadow settings:

here is a more detailed guide about subtitles by clubgif

as for placement i add a horizontal guide at 95% and put my text on top of the line (while also keeping it centered vertically)

[2] watermarks

i personally don't use watermarks because i just don't care to, but if you want to add one, the same general ideas apply. just lower the opacity of your text layer at the end (if you want... again, a watermark is personalized)

step seven: timing

this is where you'll have to convert your video timeline back to a frame animation!

delete the frames that you don't need and then set a consistent timing (click on your first frame and shift + click on your last one to select all of your frames before adjusting). i like my gifs at 0.04, but depending on the footage you can go for 0.03 (newer bte episodes) or 0.05 (this also works if you don't have enough frames and want your gif a bit slower)

step eight: exporting

go to file -> export -> save for web (legacy)...

here are my export settings:

make sure to keep your gif under 10mb! if your file exceeds 10mb, you can't upload it to tumblr. you either have to cut some more frames or add compression to your gif (something i would never do, i always just cut frames)

additional tip: tagging

you have your gif! but how do you get people to actually look at it?

i always tag wrestlers* (full name, for both searchability and tag filtering purposes), promotions (initialisms like #aew over #all elite wrestling; if it's a more generic promotion name i.e. impact, go for #impact wrestling), tracked edit tags (#aewedit, #njpwedit; this not only helps source blogs find your posts and give them a bigger reach but it lets you browse other people's works). if you want to go the extra mile you can also include which event/video the gifset is from somewhere in your tags (if it's not already in the caption)

*even if you feel like it personally hurts you to tag that one wrestler you can't stand who happens to be in a match with your fave: do try tagging all wrestlers involved for ease of filtering, especially if you don't add image descriptions to your gifsets (tumblr's post content filtering system picks up on those)

general tumblr etiquette but don't cross-tag (i.e. tag a wwe gifset as #aew). no one likes cross-taggers. crossover events are exempt from this rule of course (forbidden door, multiverse united...)

additional tip: accessibility

don't use gradient text in your captions. screen readers can't read them!

if you can, include an image description. no matter how basic. this not only helps people with screen readers but the alt text of your gif is what's going to be displayed in case the gif isn't loading properly. here's a guide on how to caption gifsets by shangs

and you're done! all that's left to do is get silly with it. once you have the basics down you can virtually do anything. you can make those pretty graphics with blending. you can gif every single match of your fave in chronological order. sky's the limit

don't be discouraged if your gifs are not "perfect" from the get-go. this is a hobby just like any other hobby, and with time you'll get better at it. don't compare yourself to others and don't put your efforts down. only you can make the exact gifs you want to see

#aewedit #njpwedit #i spent all day on this... i hope it's at least a little bit helpful 🙏

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pastelpressmachine · 11 months

Text

Black Mirror’s Demon 79 and the Justification of Brown Feminine Rage (warning: spoilers)

What if intrusive thoughts can be valid, and it is okay, maybe even necessary to act on them sometimes? If violence isn’t the answer, why must it so often be the question?

Set in Northern England, 1979, “Demon 79″ is the final episode of Black Mirror’s sixth season. It follows Nida, a meek sales assistant with a mousy appearance, who is tasked with the most complicated and important mission: to save the world by taking the lives of three human sacrifices in the days leading up to May Day.

Champions of the extended metaphor, Black Mirror employ the talents of Anjana Vasan (an Indian-born, Singaporean-raised, and U.K.-based actress) who plays Nida Huq and Paapa Essiedu (an English actor of Ghanaian descent) who plays Gaap*, the demon Nida accidentally invokes upon finding a talisman that begins this stressful mission of her. Gaap, devilishly handsome and charming, trying to earn his “wings” and be initiated into demonhood reassures the panicking Nida that she is not going mad, she is not a bad person, and the people she is encouraged to kill are vetted through his soul-reading as deserving of death.

*Gaap is considered through stories of demonology and texts related to the Testament of Solomon to be the Prince of Hell, with angels as siblings and a penchant for manipulating women and rendering them infertile.

Gaap adjusts his form to something more comfortable for Nida by changing into a look-a-like of Bobby Farrell from the famous disco-funk German-Caribbean vocal group known as Boney M. Having the representation of a demonic entity be a Black man while allowing him to manifest into a symbol of appeal for Nida turns the inherent vilification of Black men on its head without contributing to the hypersexualization of Black bodies. Gaap is never presented as a love interest for her, but viewers do get to see them develop a snarky back-and-forth. I almost never see Black and brown leads banter like this.

Another reason I’m glad Gaap was not portrayed as a sinful symbol of sexual desire is because Indian women already have to navigate a shame-fueled purity culture, and I wouldn’t want to see her grapple with her feelings for someone who is not only outside of her race and religion, but isn’t human. Writers avoided the idea that to love Gaap was to love something forbidden in all possible ways. And we don’t need to see Black folks depicted as not-human. The history of both American cinema and politics has acted on that dangerous perception already.

When I saw the opening scene of Nida with her wide eyes waking up to get ready for work, I recognized the doe-like innocence in her face as the one I have been raised to emulate. She looks so much like my mother 30 years ago. Minimal makeup, modest clothes, hair neat and tied back.

Moments of Nida’s inner demons being unleashed start off as fantasies she has. She is quietly scurrying through her life as an oppressed minority in 1970′s England, where xenophobia and racism showed up everywhere, from the actions of the British Nationalists to the microaggressions Nida faces at work for simply bringing her potent biryanis to the stock room and “stinking up the place”.

Indian women are some of the least visible in politics historically and presently because we are raised to not make a fuss of things, to be quiet and reserved and let white people act how they want towards us because we are guests in their countries, even when they’ve colonized and pillaged our own. I feel Nida’s pain as she thanks the white people around her for the bare minimum (allowing her an alternative place to eat, such as the basement - where she finds the talisman that changes her life) and avoids the confrontation and rage within her, even sighing in defeat at the NF* tag that has been spray-painted on her front door.

*NF stands for the National Front, a far-right, fascist political party in the United Kingdom, founded in 1967.

I crave catharsis for Nida. And for her late mother, whom she has a photo of in her apartment. She explains after the first sacrifice that her mother was perceived as crazy, and now Nida is afraid that people will think the same of her, and this time, because of what she’s done, it will be true. I wondered if Nida’s mom was called crazy because she had stood up for herself, reported abuse or harassment that was occurring within the Indian community itself or in her own home, or tried to leave Nida’s father. None of these scenarios would make the show seem like fiction at all, at least not for many of the South Asian women trapped by the chains of patriarchal ideals.

There are moments where I am concerned Nida is enamored by Michael Smart, a white politician giving a campaign speech outside the store she works at, as if his mere acknowledgment of her existence without visible disgust is enough to make her heart flutter. Again, I enjoy seeing a Black and brown lead in this episode, and knowing that other viewers are getting to see the many instances of white culture that exposes the racist ignorance and unfair power structures that exist in western society, workplaces, and even the homes of white folks themselves. (I was so happy for little Laura to hear of what was done to her assailant).

When it comes to stopping the world from absolute destruction in a nuclear holocaust, the heroes have never really been people who look like Nida. (It is worth noting that the head writer for this episode was Bisha K. Ali, who also is the executive writer for Disney+’s Ms. Marvel and has tackled many of the same representation issues in her work). People like her don’t have the permission to be loud, angry, or violent without consequences, no matter how justified. Meanwhile, with unchecked authority, bombs go off and innocent people die and children cower in their beds and white men get to act on their worst traits and impulses, however sinful, with little to no accountability.

Even when Nida is being violent, it is for the greater good. Because it has to be. Even female rage has to serve a purpose for others. It cannot just be hers. If she’s going to be angry, she better be trying to solve crime or save the world.

And through this most guttural and sometimes poisonous part of being a human, Gaap sees her. Maybe it’s because he has transformed in the image of Nida’s celebrity crush or maybe it’s truly the way in which he interacts with her, Gaap sees Nida. He recognizes the type of violence she would and would not indulge in. He tells her she should feel more at ease after killing the first sacrifice, a pedophile she clobbers with a brick before he falls into a river. He continuously recognizes her hesitation, and suggests “Dutch courage”, or booze before following through with the second kill. It is inappropriate in Indian culture for women to drink, which Nida notes when she tells Gaap she doesn’t. Then he asks her if she wants to, something, from the expression on Nida’s face, it doesn’t seem like she has ever been asked.

Upon entering a pub full of (yes, all white) men, Nida is dismissed by the (also white) female bartender who looks just as irritated by her existence as her coworker Vicky, who had reported how unfair it was that she had to smell Nida’s lunches and endure the lingering scent at work. An older (also white) bartender (who might be the owner) takes her order with the same polite and quiet discomfort of her boss, who had presented her with the basement lunch “solution” to appease Vicky. It’s subtle but the approaches in which different age groups and genders of white English folk take with engaging with Nida demonstrate the variety of ways in which people of colour experience discrimination. At its worst, it is violent hate crimes and unjust legislation that mutates into full blown genocide. At its mildest, it’s passive aggression and strained tolerance.

It’s more apparent with the second killing (of a man named Keith who killed his wife) that Nida does have the option to be as righteous as she wants to be, which is something I really appreciated about her character. Even if she was killing to prevent the literal apocalypse, and the clock was 6 minutes from midnight -- she must follow the cadence of at least one kill a day -- the moment she has to hear Keith’s justification for what he did and his attempt at absolving himself with the statement “I’m not a bad husband, but --” she swings a hammer at his head to shut him up. She then bashes his head in repeatedly, even to the point where Gaap is wincing at the sight. If this was just about killing people to stop a bigger disaster and loss of life, she wouldn’t be losing herself in the act like she did.

The third and final kill occurred in the next few minutes, as Keith’s roommate, witnesses her trying to exit, which presents itself as problem in allowing her to continue with the mission if she’s arrested. It’s messy because it was fast, the least premeditated, and she doesn’t know who the man is or if he’d done anything as bad as the previous two skills. Because of this, she’s much more apologetic as the man dies, later finding out from Gaap he was Keith’s brother, Chris, an “ordinary” person who would not have been one of Nida’s choices.

But as Gaap says, “What’s done is done”. And the three lines on the talisman should have disappeared indicating that Nida has fulfilled her duty. But it still has a line remaining, so a confused Gaap dials 666 (of course) on Nida’s rotary phone to explain the issue to his superiors. He tells Nida that Keith apparently didn’t count because he’s a murderer and anyone who’s been directly responsible for the death of another human being (not counting future deaths they might be responsible for) is off limits. Chris counted because his death still occurred just before midnight.

Nida doesn’t snap psychologically and decide she enjoys this and is going to become a serial killer, which is a direction I find common in other Black Mirror episodes, where the white and/or male character loses it and/or goes on a killing spree. She grapples once more with her initial unwillingness to participate in this because even when given the go-ahead and to have the most reason to, she enters a mental boxing ring with her instinct v. culture v. morals. From my own experience and what I have seen in my own community, outward expression of rage is never the first emotion a woman reaches for...because she can’t always afford to in the way others can.

“My whole life, I never wished harm on anyone.”

Gaap tells her what’s at risk for him, and he describes a fate of punishment that she says sounds like her life now. She stands, empathizing with an actual demon, and deciding to continue with the mission. Gaap also reminds her this isn’t solely for him; she possessed a darkness within her that drew her to the talisman. So, he asks her, who pissed her off?

To Possette’s Shoes they go.

Vicky, a prime choice for the grand finale, delegates the task of attending to the young girl Laura (from earlier) and her mother to Nida. Because the little girl creeps Vicky out. Gaap informs Nida that because she killed Laura’s dad, Laura doesn’t kill herself at 28 and instead goes to therapy, becomes a mother at 29, and a grandmother at 57. It’s a comforting thought amidst the mayhem of it all.

Michael Smart makes an appearance once more, as his father and the boss’s father, are old college friends, and Nida’s boss had promised him a suit and shoes on the house. The boss unsurprisingly selects Vicky as the sales attendant, with Gaap grumbling to himself as Nida’s eyes go from ‘excited crush’ to just crushed. Her boss then chooses to notice the boxes on the floor from when Vicky could’ve been cleaning up and hisses at Nida, “Could you pick up the bloody mess?” This prompts Gaap to suggest the boss be the next to go.

Nida moves on to cleaning up the boxes, eavesdropping on the conversation between Michael and Vicky. When Michael says he hopes he has her vote, she says she is siding with the National Front who she believes will help rid the town of all the pesky foreigners. And then Michael Smart reveals himself to be what a lot of politicians are: covert bigots. He explains to Vicky that an explicitly xenophobic campaign would be too polarizing, so you have to elect a moderate who can win over the masses and put the evil plans in motion. (Sound familiar?)

There is a subliminal language spoken among white supremacists, even if they smile politely at people who look like me and Nida. And this revelation that she witnesses presents an even more justifiable option for Nida’s third kill.

She asks Gaap to give her information about Michael’s future, which he hesitantly reveals to her. Michael Smart wins the election, eventually becomes prime minister, and leads a new world order built on white supremacy. Nida decides he is the final target, but Gaap tells her he wouldn’t be the right choice because the Satanic world he comes from is a fan of his work and everyone there would want Michael to be able to facilitate the upcoming deaths that occur as a result of him first winning the election to become a member of Parliament.

But Nida is set on him, or no one, giving Gaap the ultimatum to get on board or risk his own banishment after failing his initiation.

Meanwhile, a police investigation occurs which leads to the bar staff identifying Nida as a “muttering Indian woman” who was at the bar the night Keith died. Len Fisher of Tipley Police arrives at Nida’s apartment, as part of routine questioning, and she invites him in, with Gaap’s suggestion to kill him.

Fisher is the first white person to speak to her as person, too, even though he’s there on the premise of Nida being a potential suspect. Maybe this is more covert trust-building behaviour, maybe as a cop, maybe as someone generally suspicious of people of colour. He is the most mild-mannered, middle-man in the whole story.

Fisher follows Nida who follows Smart after his speech at town hall. This is where I’m a little surprised but not displeased. The other episodes end with something sad, violent, and/or redemptive. Nida gets a bit of everything, but as with all things Black Mirror, not in the way you’d expect. In society, Nida may be reduced to a mad woman telling an insensible story, enduring the same perception people had of her mother. But society doesn’t last long, and she walks off into a kind of nuclear, fiery sunset with a new friend.

The deadline for the sacrifices had been May Day, also known as Workers’ Day or International Workers’ Day to commemorate the struggles and gains made by workers and the labour movement. Nida, representing intersectional identities of the working class (immigrants, women, people of colour), was not listened to or believed, and the world ended because of it. Her weapon of choice had been a hammer, a tool meant for building that was used for destructive but necessary purposes. This could be a reference to the Communist party’s symbol of a hammer and sickle, which represents proletarian solidarity. The meaning of the episode, particularly its ending, captures the significance of the working class and how our world relies on them to function and last. When their efforts are stunted, their sacrifices are in vain, or they are not heard, the world ends.

#black mirror #demon 79 #tv series review #black mirror season 6 #paapa essiedu #digital illustration #fanart #commissions open #anjana vasan

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hrtyunjin · 10 months

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AFTERGLOW #005. collab

it’s been a month with the same old routine. yeonjun sitting behind me so i can sit next to karina. for the most part, i guess i’ve been getting used to it, it’s just so awkward. i have wanted to talk with her but, every time i try to talk to her no words are able to come out of my mouth.

“y/n! are you even listening to what i’m saying?!” i look over at yeonjun who’s been glaring at me for not listening to him. “sorry, i zoned out for a minute there.” i say as we arrive at the front doors of the class. “whatever i’ll tell you what i was saying later.” he says annoyingly as we enter the classroom, and go to our seats.

as every student is settling in for the lecture to begin, the professor suddenly speaks up, “Good morning class.” he smiles at everyone and continues, “As you may all know, i give out two major important projects to you students throughout the year. One in the beginning of the year, and finally one at the end of the year. These projects will severely impact your grade so if you miss at least one of these, you will automatically fail this class.”

The professor walks to his computer as he projects something on the whiteboard. “For this first assignment i will let you choose the person of your choice to work with.” As he says this i look back over at yeonjun who’s already chatting it up with his desk partner, or should i say, “new friend.” yeonjun looks at me and says, “sorry y/n i have a partner already.” i can see a smile slowly starts to creep onto his face. he had this all planned i bet. waiting for the teacher to assign a project so i can be stuck to do it with karina. what an asshole. i turn back as a sigh leaves my lips.

i suddenly hear a voice to the left of me speak up. “i guess since there’s no one else for us to partner up with, it’s just the both of us then?” i look at karina whose sitting next to me, “yeah, i guess its just us two then.” i say awkwardly. the teacher soon explains that this project is going to be a duet with our partner. “This is why i’ve been showing all you students new techniques to better your singing voices. continue to talk this over with your partner until class ends. pick a good song that suits BOTH of your voices and make me proud students.” He gently smiles as he sits back down at his desk. “if you have any questions please come up to my desk and talk to me about it. other than that, good luck to all of you students.”

karina clears her throat as she speaks up, “so for our song… do you have any ideas?” i think for a second and answer, “well if you’re still a big taylor swift fan as you were back then, then mayb-“ she cuts me off abruptly “yes!” she suddenly shouts out, “oh sorry…” her and i laugh at her sudden action. “well then, any taylor song in mind?” i question her. i can tell that she’s in deep thought over which song to choose, so i decide to help her out. “how about ‘I wish you would’?” i know this is karina’s favorite song which is why i said this. karina’s face suddenly lights up and she smiles, “that’s perfect.”

as we continue chatting it up about the project our professor suddenly tells us that the class is now dismissed. “wow i didn’t even realize we’ve been talking for that long.” karina says. “yeah same haha.” “i’ll text you more about the project then later today?” “yeah sounds good.” i say as she gets up to leave the classroom. and then the sudden realization hits me. she still has my number saved? yeonjun looks at me and starts to smile, “what are you blushing about y/n?” he cooes at me as he pokes me. “shut up!” i say as i swat his hand away from me, which just makes him laugh even more than he already is.

previous | masterlist | next

a/n - some crumbs for u guys…

TAGS - @winterlve @winieter @yoontoonwhs @mightymyo @neuftaeng @nasyu-kookies @yerisdumbass @boohirai @sewiouslyz @kimsgayness @aloneinacity [closed]

#afterglow #yoo jimin #aespa jimin #yoo jimin x reader #aespa x reader #karina x reader #fluff #crack #romance #smau #kpop smau #jimin smau #aespa smau #yoo jimin smau #kpop #hrtyunjin #karina smau

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 11 months

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Atsushi Nakajima (self-aware)

Self-Aware! Atsushi Nakajima x GN!Reader

Warning: Yandere. OOC. Slight spoilers for Atsushi's past. Atsushi almost had an existential crisis, English is my second language.

Becoming self-aware

🐯 Atsushi was the first character who gained self-awareness.

🐯 When Atsushi realised he was a fictional character, he was devastated and confused.

🐯 His past in the orphanage... Does it have any meaning? Or was it all just for someone's entertainment? Has he even been abused by the orphanage director? Was he even a child? Or he just appeared on the river bank with memories of events that never occurred?

🐯 And his new friends? Were they alive? Or they were puppets, forced to say the same lines?

🐯 Thankfully, other characters soon become self-aware and Atsushi wasn't alone anymore, but damage has already been done.

🐯 And then he felt an entity's presence.

_________________________________________

At first, Atsushi thought, that he finally lose it. He won't be surprised, really. Atsushi couldn't even be sure, that he could be considered human at that point, so, the feeling of being watched just tagged along with Atsushi's anxiety and dread.

Soon, Atsushi realised, that it wasn't him going mad. Someone was watching him and other members of ADA. Everyone noted, that they felt someone's presence.

Yes, Atsushi could pretend, that Dazai was playing along, pretending, he also felt been watched, but, Atsushi admitted, that Dazai would never do that. And then Kunikida and President Fukuzawa admitted, that they feel someone's gaze on them.

And they weren't been watched all the time. The presence were there only when something interesting were happening. Like something, or someone, was doing it for its own entertainment. Like it was watching the TV show.

They weren't going mad. Someone was watching them. It wasn't the ability. It was someone not from Yokohama.

This someone came from outside.

And time resets.

Atsushi, once again, was on the river bank.

________________________________________

When they start feeling your presence

🐯 Atsushi was scared of you. Were you the one who did it? Were you the one, who emptied the streets of Yokohama?

🐯 Atsushi was angry at you. Were you doing it for your own amusement? Were you making them believe they were fictional characters?

🐯 And now you reset time. Are you a god? Are you a demon? Are you an evil spirit? Why are you doing it? Who give you the right to play with their lives?

🐯 Atsushi saved Dazai from the river, again. And then Atsushi felt it. The entity cheered. The entity was... praising him? For doing a good job? No, for doing the right thing. For been a good person.

"You [|||||||||||||] good [||||||||||], Atsushi! Don't [||||||||||||]!

🐯 Atsushi can recognise all the words But it was clear, that entity's feelings and words were genuine. And really strong. Atsushi felt, like he was covered with something warm. With the softest blanket.

🐯 Atsushi saw, that both Dazai and Kunikida felt the same. During their dinner in a tea house, all of them felt it. The entity was amused with Dazai's antics. The entity was intrigued by Kunikida's combat skills.

🐯 But, the most important thing happened in the warehouse, when Atsushi, once again, talked to Dazai about his past in the orphanage.

_________________________________________

"At the orphanage, people always told me I'm worthless. I have no idea where my next meal will come from or my next bed. No one would care if I died on the street. I might as well just let that beast eat me and be done with it."

As soon as this words left Atsushi's mouth, he heard sobs.

The entity was crying. Atsushi felt something warm on his cheek. Like someone was petting him.

[In reality, you are gently petting manga's panel with Atsushi.]

Atsushi recognised some words.

"poor Atsushi" "monsters" "with a child" "how dare they".

And then, clear as day.

"I am sorry, I can't take your pain away."

🐯 Atsushi felt that his anger dissapeared. He doesn't know, who are you. What are you. But he knew one thing. You cared.

🐯 Their story continues. Soon all characters heard something nice from you. The union was formed. All organisations decided to work together to find more about you and find a way to reach out for you.

And then, one day, the purple moon shined above Yokohama.

When you installed BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan

🐯 Atsushi was your first character. From now on, he heared you nice and clear.

"You are the good person, Atsushi! You are stronger, than you think. Don't let others say you otherwise."

"Wow! You did so much damage! You are so cool, Atsushi!"

"Here, let's raise your level!"

🐯 You praised him. You were glad, he is with you.

🐯 Atsushi felt aful that he hated you. You were so kind. And when others uncovered, that you were a simple person, who had no idea they were alive, Atsushi felt even worse. He thought you were something supernatural and bad. And you were someone normal and kind.

🐯 Atsushi want to protect you. To be near you. He and others will find a way to you world. They will be with you. Until then, they have this game to talk to you.

____________________________

You opened the BSD Mayoi. You decide to check, if there was new gifts from the office. You saw, that you had a new gift in your Gift box. Thinking, that you forgot to collect something, you tap on Gift box icon.

It was a message.

"Dear [Y/N], Thanks for been near. Thanks for been kind. I will find a way to pay for your kindness. For now, acsept this. Atsushi Nakajima."

There was 50 moons attached to the message.

You thought, that it was nee feature in a game. That time to time characters will send players messagers, thanking them. You acsept gift and open character menu. You choose Atsushi's card and pet his chibi sprite.

"Thanks for the gift, Atsushi."

You didn't notice, that sprite blushed.

#bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd anime #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs au #atsushi nakajima #atsushi nakajima x reader #gender neutral reader #yandere #Self-AwareAU #Self-AwareBSD #Self-Aware Atsushi #Self-Aware Atsushi Nakajima #Self-Aware Nakajima

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