#(he's not dead just doesn't teach us anymore)

[eggsnatcheskneecaps]

I deserve an award for having to deal with my history teacher

#listen. i feel bad for talking like this about her. i understand she's trying and she has really good results in her students #but she really kills my motivation and jad some shitty habits #plus she doesn't like my stimming (bouncing leg) #tells me to stop And It Makes Me Feel Things #i really wish we'd go back to the history teacher we had last year. i never studied history so well before him but there is 0 chance that #will happen #rip Mr History teacher🫡the entire class misses you and wants you to replace the current one #(he's not dead just doesn't teach us anymore) #egg.txt #rant #has not jad*

[yinyuedijun]

translation

Aventurine doesn't like being understood, but he does like understanding other people. It is essential for manipulation, for scheming, for control. And he likes controlling you especially—for keeping you close but your heart a comfortable distance away, for opening your legs when he wants the pleasure of your body, for playing your emotions however he needs. And the day will come when that skill will be invaluable—the day when he must die without shattering you. (Or: You are the only person in the universe who understands Aventurine in his mother tongue. He often regrets teaching it to you.)

5k words. gender neutral reader, established relationship, angst, non-graphic sex (reader bottoms, anatomy neutral), themes of cultural loss, references to slavery, aventurine’s canonically implied desire to die. MDNI.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.

Deception does not come easily to him in his mother tongue. His command of it is too weak—and too kind. The universe was a different place in the days when his life was coloured by the warble of Avgin dialect. It felt simpler, partly because he was a child and partly because Sigonia was yet untouched by outsiders. There were no corporations, no casinos, no commodity codes. His entire world was sand, desert, mother, sister, father (or more often—ghost), goddess, tent, wagon, luck, sin, rain, blessing, Avgin.

Katican.

Aventurine is sure that he knew more than just those words. He was fluent as a child. He had conversations with his sister that were complex enough to make his heart hurt, though perhaps his heart was just constantly aching anyway. But the rest of his early words escapes him. He could maybe dredge them up if he thinks long enough, but he also isn't sure if his tongue and lips could form the shape of them anymore. Sometimes he still counts in Avgin, memorises phone numbers in it, but he doesn’t remember the last time he actually strung together a full sentence in the language.

When Aventurine was first stolen into slavery (a word that he had not known as a child, and still doesn't know in Avgin), he wasn’t given a Synesthesia Beacon. He had to rely on his ears and his wits, deciphering the harsh edges of the Katican dialect and then the strange garble of Interastral Standard Language. By the time he had a Beacon installed, it was already translating all speech into Standard—his dominant language.

Sometimes he feels a little aggrieved by it, but at least it wasn't Katican. He'd have blown out his brains if it were.

But it is easy to console himself: Avgin is not a useful language anyway. Dead languages have no value, and the Avgin dialect was killed along with its people. You can’t perform commerce in a dead language, can't negotiate contracts, can't enter a gambling den and use your silver tongue to rob people blind. You can't use a dead language to fell governments and extract resources; you can't use a dead language to bring an entire planet to its knees. You can’t use a dead language to gamble your life; you can't use it to save yourself from the gallows.

You cannot deceive people in a language that is defined by sand, sister, goddess, ghost.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin. His command of it is too weak, and there is no one left to which he can lie, anyway.

When you ask Aventurine to teach you his first language, he gives you an amused look.

“Why Avgin?” he asks. “No one speaks it anymore. I can teach you Common Sigonian if you’d like. Or we could learn Xianzhounese together. Maybe Intellitron code? I know a little.”

“You speak Avgin,” you argue.

“Not often,” he says. “And badly when I do.”

“But it's still your language. And I want to understand you.”

Aventurine has to stop himself from laughing. Understand him? He hates being understood. When people understand him, it makes him predictable. And unlikeable. Hardly a position from which he can manipulate people in.

You understand him well enough to know that.

“You'll have to give me a better reason than that,” he says neatly. “Make it worth my while. Reward me.”

You look at him as you ponder, your eyes lingering on his. Perhaps trying to read him, though he prefers to think you're just enjoying the sight of them.

“I’ll teach you my language as well?”

“You mean—you'll reward my hard labour with more work?” he says, lighthearted.

You frown at him despite the joke. “You don't want to understand me better than what a Synesthesia Beacon would allow?” He blinks, pausing. “It’ll be convenient too. We can talk shit about other people in public and no one will understand us.”

Aventurine considers you. He doesn't like being understood, but he does like understanding other people. It is essential for manipulation, for scheming, for control. And he likes controlling you especially—for keeping you close but your heart a comfortable distance away, for opening your legs when he wants the pleasure of your body, for playing your emotions however he needs. And the day will come when that skill will be invaluable—the day when he must die without shattering you.

He also likes the idea of talking shit in public.

“I'm listening,” he says, voice lilting. You lean in, smiling. Sweet. It makes his heart feel something he isn't used to. Something addictive. Something disgusting. He scrambles to cover it with one of the usual tools: humour or distraction or maybe just plain old lying—his most reliable weapon.

“I'll throw in a kiss?” you try.

He hums. “Just one?”

“One per day.”

“Three.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“Well, I am a businessman.”

You snort, but he knows you're endeared. You have very noticeable tells when you’re flustered.

“Okay,” you say. “Three kisses on days you teach me.”

“Deal.”

Aventurine remembers more Avgin than he thought he would.

It comes to him slowly, painstakingly. You aren't interested in structured lessons, and he wouldn't be able to provide them anyway. He has a nonexistent grasp of grammar aside from this sounds right and that sounds strange, and Avgin dialect is both so niche and so dead that no textbooks are available. The scholars have abandoned the language as much as the politicians abandoned its people. Aventurine only has you, his fragmented memory, and whatever questions come to mind as you live out your days with him.

Mostly, you ask him about basic vocabulary. Sometimes you ask him to repeat sentences from your conversations in Avgin, like he’s some kind of multilingual parrot. Each prompt forces him to wade through the fog in his mind, the one that’s been shrouding his childhood memories until now. He's startled at how naturally the old words roll off his tongue: One, two, three, four. Good morning. Good evening. Good night. Sweet dreams. Five, six, seven, eight. You're lying to me. Why do you always lie to me? I don't know what you're talking about. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Welcome home. Have you eaten? Have some bread. I made you stew. Twenty, thirty, forty, fifty. That was dangerous. I thought you wouldn't make it back to me. Sometimes I think you want to die. One hundred, one thousand, one million, one billion. I'm sorry. Come here. Let me kiss you. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

When you say, How do I ask you to let me hold you, he answers easily. He'd heard the words so often as a child: Let me hold you, Kakavasha. Let Mama hold you. His mouth forms the sounds without conscious thought.

He regrets it almost immediately.

When Aventurine hears it from you—stilted, halting, but no less gentle—he stops breathing. Let me hold you. You say it all the time in Standard, but it feels different in Avgin. More painful. A strange sense of panic closes in on him when he's wrapped up in you, thinking in Avgin, thinking sand, sister, goddess, ghost. He holds you tightly, like the rags cut from his father’s shirt, or his mother’s locket won back from the shell-slashers, or a bag of poker chips beneath a card table, clutched within his trembling grip.

“Aventurine, is something wrong?” you ask in Avgin, and he replies in Standard with his usual smile.

“Hm? No. What could be wrong if I have you here?”

Lying is one of his greatest tools. Sex is another one. So he says, “I think I'd like my reward now,” and he runs his lips along your jaw, your pulse, the spot over your heart (there's a word for that in Avgin but not Standard, he tells you), until you're laughing. I thought you wanted three kisses, you tease, and he replies, Who said I wanted to kiss you on the mouth?

But he coaxes open your thighs, and once he's inside you, he collects his payment properly. He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you—and you swallow his lies whole.

There are some things that Aventurine doesn't teach you. Mostly, they’re things that he can’t teach you.

There are countless gaps in his Avgin. His speech is painfully childish—probably more childish than it was when he actually stopped speaking it. He doesn't know how to swear (something that disappoints you) and he doesn't know how to flirt (something that devastates you). He doesn’t know any words that would be useful for work either: commercialization, governance, stakes, winnings, profit. When you ask him what his job title is in Avgin (“Was senior management even a thing in Avgin society?”), he laughs and gives you the word for gambler.

Then there are the words that he remembers—has remembered his whole life—but never says. Not to you, and not to himself. He doesn't teach you any prayers. He doesn't teach you any blessings. He doesn't teach you about Mama Fenge, or the Kakava Festival, or how the rain fell when he was born. When you ask him, What holidays did you celebrate when you were little? he shrugs and says, We didn't have any. Sigonia’s too bleak to do any partying.

Then you ask him one day, while your bodies are spent in the afterglow of sex, sticky with sweat and sweetness, how to say I love you. And he goes quiet.

Love is a cheap word in Interastral Standard. In the language of globalisation and trade, love has been commercialised, commodified, capitalised for power. You say it to him in many contexts: I love this, I love that, I love you. He hardly ever reacts, and he's never said it back. It would feel unnecessary and also cruel if he did: Aventurine has only ever said the words himself as either a joke or a manipulation.

But love feels different in Avgin than in Interastral Standard, doesn't sound like a thing that can be traded or bought. Kakavasha only ever said the word love to his mother, to his sister, to his father's grave. Love in his mother tongue feels priceless.

When Aventurine thinks about you saying it—I love you, Kakavasha, in clumsy, earnest Avgin—something so painful swells in his throat that he can hardly breathe.

“There is no word for love in my language,” he tells you.

You blink. “Okay, then what's an idiom for it?”

“There is none. There’s no word or phrase expressing love.”

You raise a brow. “That’s hard to believe.”

“Is it?” He smiles. “There’s no Avgin in the known universe who cares about love. Only scheming, thieving, and treachery—and you can't do those things when love is involved.”

You look at him in alarm. “Why are you saying that?” You're practically squirming in your discomfort. “I don't know why you think I'd believe such a racist stereotype.”

“It’s not a stereotype,” he says. “I'm not talking about the Avgin culture. I'm talking about myself.”

After all, he is the only Avgin left.

It is an unfair thing to say. A cruel thing to say. After all the laughing and kissing and crying and fucking, after all the tender eyes and gentle words from you—it is probably the worst pain imaginable: I don't give a shit about you. He waits for you to cry.

But you only stare at him calmly, studying him. You brush the hair out of his eyes, seeing them clearly.

“If you lie to me all the time,” you say in Avgin, “eventually I'll stop believing anything you say.”

Aventurine is speechless. His heart does that addictive, disgusting thing again. He thinks about leaving, but then you say, Let me hold you, and he can't do anything other than obey.

Avgin dialect was once included in the Synesthesia Beacon list of functions. The Intelligentsia Guild added it before the Second Katica-Avgin Extinction Event, when the IPC was trying to get a political foothold on Sigonia via the Avgin people. The language was alive then, with enough value to be included into the Synesthesia LLM by the linguists.

But since the Extinction Event—since Kakavasha ran away from home—the Synesthesia data on Avgin has been stagnant, a fossil. Aventurine knows because he's subscribed to software updates for certain languages (Avgin Sigonian, Common Sigonian, Interastral Standard, and now your mother tongue). He gets pinged every time there's a new addition for slang, for neologisms—but there hasn't been a ping for the Avgin dialect since he had the Beacon installed. The live translation function hasn't even been available since the previous Amber Era. When he checks its page on his Synesthesia app, it's very clear why—

SIGONIAN, AVGIN DIALECT SPEAKERS: 0 STATUS: Extinct END OF SERVICE: 2156 AE

The complete death of the language has led to an irritating dilemma for you and Aventurine. You keep running into words that he doesn't know—this time not because of his childlike speech, but because they never existed in his language to begin with. Ocean, tropical, rainforest. Starskiff, accelerator, space fleet. Stock market, shortselling, mutual funds. Black hole, event horizon, spaghettification. All things that never came up for Kakavasha, but now come up for Aventurine, and the language has not evolved to include it.

He always wants to switch to Standard to discuss these things, but you're insistent on speaking in Avgin as much as possible. He doesn't know why, but he doesn't mind humouring you—partly because he likes to indulge you, and partly because he’s grown used to hearing the honeyed timbre of Avgin dialect in your household. The place would feel strange without it.

So you start filling the gaps with other languages, filtering them through the lyricism of Avgin. Loanwords, he thinks they’re called. You take ocean, tropical, rainforest from Amazian; starskiff, accelerator, space fleet from Xianzhounese; stock market, shortselling, mutual funds from Interastral Standard. For the astrophysics terms, you try directly translating them—with limited success.

“Can't I literally just say ‘black hole’?” you ask in Avgin, and he nearly spits out his coffee.

“Please don't. That's a dirty word.” He can't bring himself to say what it means, but from the way you’re laughing, you can clearly guess.

“I thought you said you didn't know how to swear.”

“You've just reminded me how.”

“You're welcome.” You look on the verge of cackling. Aventurine finishes his coffee and wonders when you're going to surprise him with your newfound vulgarity.

“Let's just do the space terms based on Standard,” he says. Begs.

“No, that's so boring.”

“Then let's do your language.”

You open your mouth. Close it. Give him a blank look.

“You don't know how to say those words in your mother tongue either, do you,” he intuits.

“Well, ‘spaghettification’ doesn't really come up in everyday conversation, does it?”

“Then maybe we don't need it.” He smiles, senses an opportunity. Smells blood. “How about ‘love’? I'd much rather know how you say that. I bet it sounds beautiful.”

You give him a long look. Your eyes are vulnerable when you share it: Love. I love you. He’s fascinated by the sound of it. Your voice is never that fragile when you say it in Standard. It's never so earnest. He repeats it, staring at you, and your gaze falls to the ground. His mouth curls.

“I like it,” he says. “Let's use that. It'll sound nice in Avgin.”

You try to recover. “Sure. That works. But back to ‘black hole’—”

And the two of you continue like that for days, weeks, months. It feels like a complete bastardization of his mother tongue on some days, in some conversations. Almost unrecognisable. But it doesn't feel bad. It’s all he has, it's all you have, and when he walks into your home, he starts speaking it without thinking: your bastard, patchwork language. The Avgin dialect that exists only in your house. A tongue that can only be understood by a liar.

And then, one lazy Sunday morning, he gets a familiar ping. He expects it to be Interastral Standard, as usual. The language balloons with each planet that the IPC colonises.

But instead, he opens his screen and freezes.

SIGONIAN, AVGIN DIALECT SPEAKERS: 2 STATUS: Endangered. SERVICE RESUMED: 2157 AE NEW UPDATES: 103 loanwords and 5 neologisms added.

He can't stop looking at the status. Endangered. Endangered, which means dying, but alive. The Avgin dialect is alive again. The Intelligentsia Guild determined it, so it must be true. But Aventurine can't agree: there are no Avgin speakers in the known universe other than the two of you, and what you speak isn't real Avgin. The Avgin spoken by his mother and father and sister is dead; the Avgin spoken by Kakavasha is dead. The festivals are gone; the deserts have been terraformed. There are no wagons; there are no dances; there are no prayers. There are no blessings, and he has no home—

As long as you are alive, the blood of the Avgin will never run dry.

His throat locks up.

“Aventurine?” you ask. Your voice is drowsy, but concerned. “Is something wrong?”

He looks at you from his phone, a polished smile on his face.

“No.” His syllables are plain and efficient in the noise of Interastral Standard: “Just looking at details for a new assignment. It’ll be a long one.”

“Oh.” You frown. “Will you be away from home for a long time, then?”

He stops himself from swallowing. “Yes, I'll be away from the house. For several months, probably.”

“Okay.” Your voice is small. “Take care of yourself, okay? I'll miss you.”

Each word you speak resonates with heartbreak. It always does in these conversations, even in Standard—but the sorrow is amplified in Avgin. His mother tongue has an inherently sad quality to it, he's noticed. His people have lost so much over their history—their language is one of loss. It's his language of loss. Kakavasha did all his grieving in Avgin; Aventurine has never felt sorrow in Standard. When the language died, so did Kakavasha—and all his regrets with it.

“You'll come home to me, right?” you ask. It's a beautiful sentence in Avgin. A heartrending one. He feels something that he hasn't known since he was a child.

It's a feeling he has to kill.

“Yes,” he says in Standard. “Of course I'll come back.”

This is not the first time that Aventurine has been mistaken for dead, but this is the longest time.

The latest world to join the IPC network was a tough acquisition. It had been ruled by a despot who wreaked havoc on both the people and the planet, and who was too stupid and reckless to resolve conflicts with his trade partners. He probably would have blown up the whole star system had he been left to his own devices. Aventurine had no qualms about bringing him to ruin, nor did he have qualms about nearly dying in the process.

If things had gone his way, he'd either be dead or missing. This would have been the perfect opportunity to do the latter, actually—to be freed from the IPC. Free to drift alone, speaking with strangers in strange, unfamiliar tongues. No connection to his past, to the cruel history of his luck, to his commodity code. No tether to his inherently unjust destiny. But instead he's back in your house, pockets heavy with his borrowed wealth, speaking to you in his bastardised, childish Avgin. I'm sorry. Come here. Let me kiss you. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

Your Avgin is—shockingly fluent. He doesn't know how. He can't think about it right now. All he can process is the wounded animal noise of your speech as you yell at him, as you cry. Like an injured songbird, or a weeping child. Why did you leave, why did you lie, why do you always lie to me, why don't you give a shit about me, you spit. Why do you want to die, why do you want to die, why do you want to die, you keep saying. Sand, sister, goddess, ghost, he keeps hearing. Sand, sister, goddess, ghost. Don't leave me, big sister. People will die. Why do you have to go?

“I’m sorry,” he tries again, this time in your language. “I'm so sorry. Come here. Let me hold you.”

You collapse into your mother tongue. Aventurine is both relieved and horrified. Relieved that he doesn't need to hear the language of his grief—horrified that he needs to hear yours. He's never heard you cry like this. He's never heard you break like this. These must have been the words you used when the soldiers found you hiding in your closet, when they dragged you out of your home. You were just a child.

Aventurine doesn't know the words you are using—you've never taught them—but he still understands them.

You're very malleable when you’re sad; even more so when you're hysterical. Aventurine understands this about you, and he understands how to calm you—this time in your native tongue—and he understands how to kiss you. He understands that you need to feel close to him. He understands that there are ways to accomplish this other than sex. A normal person would talk it out, have an honest conversation, come to a mutual understanding, and maybe even stop trying to kill himself. They wouldn't fuck you into the mattress while your face is still wet with tears.

But Aventurine is not a normal person. He doesn't know how to have an honest conversation, and he doesn't want to be understood. Lying is his greatest weapon, and sex is a close second. So he kisses you until you’re too breathless to cry, fucks you until you can't think, and makes you come so hard that you’re in too much bliss to grieve. And maybe it's horrible of him, but he enjoys it. He enjoys the way your body takes him in so easily, the way your nails dig into his back, the way you tighten around him when you climax, so wet and needy for him. The way you beg for him in your language for liars as he spends himself inside you: I love you, Aventurine, I love you, I love you, I love you—

Only because it feels good. This is all only because he enjoys fucking you. This is all only because you enjoy fucking him. This is all it'll ever be, and it'll be this way until he gets to meet his end.

(Some months ago, Aventurine started dreaming in Avgin.

It surprised him when he first noticed it. The last time he remembers having a dream in his native tongue, he was twelve years old and still in chains. And even then, it had become a sporadic, strange thing. Awful to wake up from. One minute he was with his mother and sister on a cool, rainy day, speaking fluently in Avgin as he laughed and played—and the next minute, he was being shaken awake in his cage, hearing the cruel lash of Katican.

But ever since he's started speaking Avgin with you, he's been dreaming in it. Vividly. Sometimes he's a child in these dreams, and sometimes he's grown. He's always back in the Sigonian desert, among the tents and the campfires and his family wagons. His mother and sister are alive. Sometimes his father is too. The skies roar with thunder and the stellar winds are always harsh, but they always keep him cocooned up in their arms. He's always warm.

Sometimes Aventurine dreams of nicer days. Clear skies, warm sun, cool breeze—all blessings from the Mother Goddess. On these days, he tends to be an adult, and you tend to be there with him. Your Avgin is fluent but strange, filled with funny loanwords and peculiar slang. His father likes the neologisms and starts using them—but only in wrong ways. His sister finds it embarrassing and keeps apologising to you.

His mother loves you. She loves you so much it hurts. This is how I know you're blessed, Kakavasha, she says, glowing. You’re so lucky to have found such a kind person.

Kakavasha knows this. He knows he's lucky, and in his dreams, that isn't a bad thing. In his dreams, his luck means that his home is not violently excised from his heart: his father never dies; his mother never dies; his sister never dies. The tents are not burned; the wagons are not destroyed. He is never forced to forget his people's dishes, their songs, their language, their joy. And in his dreams, his luck means that he meets you anyway, without all the loss and the chains and the lying.

In his dreams, he is able to bring you to the desert. He is able to teach you the Avgin he spoke as a child, to cook all the meals his mother used to make, to share with you their coffee and their tea. He teaches you prayers. He teaches you blessings. He tells you about Mama Fenge, about how the rain fell when he was born. He takes you to the Kakava Festival, shows you how to dance, sings to you all the Avgin songs until you're singing back. He presses his palm to yours in prayer; he kisses you in devotion, not avoidance.

Sometimes the two of you still fight, the same fights that you have in real life, but he handles them with honesty. He listens to you. He apologises to you. He tells you that he’ll change, and he means it—because this world is a kind one, and he has no need to be so cruel to you.

In this kind world, when you lay in bed with his arms tight around you, you smile at him and say, I love you, Kakavasha. You say it in Avgin—real Avgin, not the dialect born from genocide and deceit—and when he responds, there's not even a little bit of insincerity in his voice. Because Kakavasha never became Aventurine in these dreams, so he has no Interastral Standard in which he can lie to you, no silver tongue with which he can manipulate you, no commodity code that inspires his fear of being controlled by you. Kakavasha only knows Avgin, and he only has his sand, his family, his goddess, his home.

And he has you. Finally, he has you.

He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you—and then he tells you the truth.)

.

.

.

Aventurine cannot lie in Avgin.

You noticed this very early on: whenever he lies to you, he always switches to Interastral Standard. Probably he wouldn't be able to do it in his mother tongue. His command of it is too weak, and the words he knows are all too kind. He speaks with the innocence of a child, and children cannot deceive people in the way that adults can. Children cannot perform commerce or negotiate contracts. They cannot use a silver tongue to rob people blind. They cannot save themselves from the gallows.

So Aventurine’s Avgin is defenceless. Vulnerable. So vulnerable it hurts. You are not so vulnerable in your first language because your captors spoke it on occasion, and you learned to lie in it to gain their pity. You told Aventurine that knowing it would help him understand you, but this was a deception. Aventurine’s mother tongue was a language of trust, but yours is a dialect of abuse.

The Avgin language died before Aventurine could be gutted by it; this is why it disarms him so completely. This is why he’s so indulgent and so warm when you use it with him, why he yields to all your requests. Not requests for money or gifts—you’re certain those are meaningless to him—but for affection. Let me hold you. Let me touch you. Let me kiss you. He can never say no.

This is also why he loves hearing you speak his mother tongue, you think—it makes him feel at home, it makes him feel safe. Maybe it even makes him feel loved. He never seems so at peace speaking any other language, so you try to use Avgin as much as possible. You like seeing him happy. You like it even if it means you need to teach him your own native language in exchange, even when it means you need to hear him say all the things your captors used to say. You don't mind it if it's him. You never mind the harm he inflicts on you, especially not when it brings you closer to him.

It is convenient that he cannot lie in Avgin. You only wanted to learn it in the first place because he talks in his sleep—mostly in Standard, but sometimes in his native tongue. And now that you know he cannot lie in Avgin, you also know he's always being honest in his dreams. Honest when he throws his arms around you in his sleep. Honest when he grabs you so tightly that you bruise. Honest when he buries his face into your neck and whispers prayers into your skin.

Most of the words he says are common ones, the earliest vocabulary that he taught you. But there are some things he's withheld from you—and to learn those things, you had to track down linguists from the Intelligentsia Guild, bribe them with your dirty money, have them give you all their deprecated, extinct data. It felt two-faced, and it was violating, but it was the only way. You already know that Aventurine would rather die than translate his feelings for you, would never want this part of himself understood.

I'm sorry for always leaving you.

I'm sorry for making you cry.

I can't bear the thought of losing you.

Freedom would be too lonely without you.

I don't want to hurt you anymore.

I don't want to lie to you anymore.

I missed you.

I want you.

I need you.

I love you.

end

afterword

#aventurine x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #x reader #hsr smut #aventurine smut #lol it isnt really smut but it is nsft i suppose #nsft #yueshuo.fics

[fellthemarvelous]

Do you ever really think about what happened in The Resurrectionists?

Aziraphale spent that entire time trying to save Elspeth's soul from being damned to Hell.

Every questionable choice he made was done so because he was trying to help Elspeth and also trying to find new ways to decrease human suffering.

He was working really fucking hard to do his job, but he made mistakes along the way because he is constantly struggling with the knowledge that the rules become a lot more convoluted as life becomes more complicated.

Digging up bodies is wrong, but Elspeth was poor and acting in desperation to take care of herself and Wee Morag so they wouldn't have to continue living on the streets.

He is the one who encouraged her to dig up another body because he realized that Mister Dalrymple was trying to help teach those learning to become doctors so they could do better to decrease human suffering when it was their turn to help others.

He wasn't able to save Wee Morag after she was shot by a grave gun, and watched in dismay as Elspeth sold her body to Mister Dalrymple so she could get off the streets.

And when that didn't work the way she'd hoped, she decided that her life meant nothing anymore and decided she was better off dead.

Aziraphale had been spending that entire minisode trying to save Elspeth's soul from Hell, but he ultimately realizes that he made things worse even though he was trying so hard to do the right thing.

Heaven didn't care that he failed. Heaven has already said "we're the good guys, we're just not doing anything to stop the bad guys". Aziraphale was doing the job given to him by God. He made a mistake, but he thought he was doing the right thing because he cares about human souls. He still wants to protect humanity from Hell. That's literally his job.

Crowley saw someone digging up a body in the graveyard and immediately realized he didn't need to do anything.

Instead he watches.

He listens to Elspeth and finds it easier to sympathize with her plight because he's in the same boat in many ways. It doesn't matter what he does because he won't be able to climb his way out of Hell.

He listens to Aziraphale and he challenges the angel when he disagrees with some of the things he's saying.

He doesn't interfere with Elspeth or Aziraphale though.

The discussion that he and Aziraphale have with Mister Dalrymple teaches Crowley something just as much as it teaches Aziraphale.

Before he learns the reason that Mister Dalrymple cuts open dead bodies in the first place, he's cheering to the idea of more murder.

That tumor that Aziraphale hugs to his chest is just as much of a learning moment for Crowley. He hadn't considered why someone might have a good reason to cut up dead bodies, but Crowley and Aziraphale both love children and they both just learned that a child died with a tumor inside of him.

Crowley didn't realize anymore than Aziraphale did just how much danger Wee Morag and Elspeth were in from digging up bodies of rich people.

It was when Crowley saw that Elspeth was about to kill herself that he realized he could no longer sit back and do nothing.

As a demon, it should have been easier for Crowley to accept that Hell was winning another soul, but the truth is that the entire time Aziraphale was working so hard to save Elspeth's soul, Crowley was able to act as a spectator because she was already headed down the path towards Hell.

Crowley had just watched Aziraphale work so hard to save this human soul, this soul who had just lost the woman she loved who was wanting to end her own life so she could see Wee Morag again, and he realized he couldn't sit back and watch anymore. He knew Elspeth wouldn't see Wee Morag again if she killed herself because Hell cares just as little about how complicated human life is as Heaven does.

He used Aziraphale's money to bribe Elspeth into being properly good so she could go to Heaven. He saved her knowing that he was offering the win to Heaven just so she could see Wee Morag again.

It's important to remember that neither Heaven nor Hell give a single solitary fuck about humanity or the complications that arise as life becomes more problematic. Humanity exists within all shades of grey.

Heaven does nothing to stop Hell. Hell spends eternity torturing humans and other demons. Neither side is good. Neither side is ideal.

And in the end, Crowley did what he did because Aziraphale was doing the right thing by trying to save Elspeth's soul from eternal torment, something she doesn't deserve because she was simply trying to survive in a system that has always put poor people at a disadvantage. Aziraphale learned this too. He learned that there is no inherent virtue behind poverty.

To shades of grey.

#good omens #good omens meta #the resurrectionists #aziraphale #crowley #elspeth and wee morag #heaven and hell #shades of grey

[harrowharkwife]

i'm so used to there just being random unidentified bones laying around everywhere in these damn books that it finally occurred to me, just now, to wonder where the bones on new rho came from. y'know, the bones palamedes always tried to teach nona necromancy on.

they're his.

palamedes, who always loved teaching, living on borrowed time in a body that's not his own. palamedes, mentoring, teaching- parenting, by sixth standards, mind you. and that boy is sixth, through and through.

and the entire point of teaching nona necromancy in the first place was to try and determine if nona is, well, nonagesimus, right? so it has to be bones, it can't not be bones. bones are, like, her whole thing.

but they're not in the nine houses, anymore. things are different, on new rho.

they burn bones here. dig up the cemeteries. a society terrified of zombies will evolve to dispose of its dead differently.

the only bones he has access to now are his own. (camilla wouldn't let anyone take them- skull or hand, doesn't matter. they're still him, and she doesn't let go, remember? it's her one thing.)

palamedes woke up every morning wearing someone else's body to then gently place the shrapnel of his own in the cupped palms of a girl who's the closest thing he'll ever have to a daughter and try to teach her- how did the angel put it, again? normal school, as much as possible, for as long as possible.

(but hey, in a roundabout way, at least it's a chance for him to touch camilla again, right? nevermind that she's not there to feel any of it because he's in the driver's seat, that he can only stay for fifteen minutes at a time. it's atoms that belong to camilla touching atoms that used to belong to him, and that's close enough. he'll take what he can get, these days- if she can be their flesh, he can be the end. so what if holding his own bones is a mindfuck? so what if looking at them makes him nauseous? surely he can suck it up and deal with it for fifteen minutes. it's the least he can do— his poor camilla was the one who had to scrape the bloody pulp of them off the floors of canaan house.)

(speaking of, here's a fun fact: we actually only see nona practicing with the bones one time, on-page. camilla's final line in that scene, before palamedes takes over, is none other than: 'keep going. there are some bones left.' ow!)

remember, too, that the only part of dulcinea, the real dulcinea, that palamedes ever physically touched, was her tooth- the one that ianthe gave him, pulled from the ashes cytherea burnt her down to. he only ever touched dulcie once, and it wasn't until after she was already gone, but that doesn't matter- it still happened, and you can't take loved away.

in this same roundabout, bittersweet, by-proxy sort of way, palamedes has been physically touched by nona, too: the atoms she currently occupies, touching atoms that he used to occupy, and never will again.

the main interaction we've seen between palamedes and his mother took place back on the sixth, with her acting as mentor and him as pupil: the two of them studying a set of hand bones, juno encouraging him every step of the way.

we know that harrowhark's "most vivid memory of her mother was of her hands guiding harrow's over an inexpertly rendered portion of skull, her fingers encircling the fat baby bracelets of harrow's wrists, tightening this cuff to indicate correct technique."

they're still small for a nineteen year old, but the wrists are bigger, in this new set of memories nona's making. and it's not an inexpertly rendered portion of skull anymore- it's a hand, now, albeit one crafted from [a piece of skull reassembled (painstakingly—passionately—laboriously reassembled) from fragments, manually, and not by a bone magician, from the skull of someone who, soon after death or symptomatically during, had exploded.] and the identity and origin of these bones is no mystery at all. they belong to palamedes, and he's consented to their use for this purpose, and that matters.

but the details are just set dressing, really. the foundation of the memory is the same.

palamedes and his mother, juno and her son.

harrow and her mother; pelleamena and her daughter.

nona and her father-mother-teacher; palamedes and his daughter.

#these fucking books. every 2-3 business days i'll find some new detail to be insane about #this post took me like three hours to write. what the fuck #palamedes sextus #nona the ninth #the locked tomb #nona #palamedes the sixth #tlt #ntn #camilla hect #tlt spoilers #pal honey. im :( :( :( #spiritually that man is a MOM okay! there's a reason tamsyn specifically assigned him the same imagery in this scene #that she's been using to represent crucial bonding moments between mother/mother figure and child/child figure #that and the 'sextus you'll make a very irritating wife someday' joke and cam's 'i'll talk to your mother later' face #ie: talk to palamedes about nona #that boy is momcoded i don't make the rules!

[snake-and-mouse]

Look. Mxtx does wonders with identity bullshit, all the disguises and aliases and shapeshifting and possessing and reincarnating etc etc

We got the obvious in tgcf with Everyone Knowing Everyone and yet it does no good because everyone is also allergic to using their real name or face or admitting they know someone, coupled with Xie Lian being the one person who cluelessly strolls up to people like hi hello who are you? (Someone you've known for centuries you bimbo) or just outright talking about someone with zero realisation they are in the room rn pls for the love of god shut up!!!

And then svsss is less actual identity shit and more just straight up not recognising reality, because Shen Qingqiu thinks he is in his old familiar beloved PIDW, right? He doesn't realise this isn't his old friend he knows like the back of his hand (that the characters are now people he can't so effortlessly read). This is a Stranger, and as he tries to passively observe the long-memorised chain of events, it keeps dancing left when he thinks its supposed to go right, feints when he was sure it would jab. The story slowly turns into someone he doesn't recognise (why does he feel like he doesn't recognise his little lamb anymore??) because his utter inability for much of the series to see how his actions can alter the world he is in.

But all that being said.

Award for Most Bullshit obviously goes to mdzs.

Wei Wuxian- Hey random kid I just met (THAT'S YOUR KID DUDE)! You're just lovely, whoever raised you (YOUR HUSBAND IDIOT) did a wonderful job :D

Also Wei Wuxian- Hey random kid I just met #2 (your nephew)! You suck, your mom (YOUR VERY DEAD YOUR FAULT DEAD SISTER) phoned in teaching you manners. Seriously who tf raised you? (YOUR BROTHER RAISED HIM. AFTER YOU GOT HIS PARENTS KILLED. AND THEN DIED. MORON.)

#mxtx #tgcf #heaven official's blessing #xie lian #svsss #shen qingqiu #mdzs #wei wuxian

[selineram3421]

*has a little idea* I've gotta listen to brain commands.

First Day

Alastor and Child Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ implied murder, mention of kidnapping, mention of heart attack, shake of head=no, fake crying lol, italic red=Alastor's thoughts ⚠

Alastor didn't understand why some demons worried over the little children that ran amuck in Hell.

That is until he adopted one himself.

Small, wide eyed, and frail looking. Of course he'd worry after a glance. But after seeing the pile of dead bodies beneath their feet, it seemed like there wasn't too much to worry about.

So all he had to do was teach them how to make others fear them. Especially after the whole kidnapping fiasco with Valentino.

And what better timing than their first day of school.

.

You were playing around in the hotel.

Most of it was following Husk around and scaring the other hotel guests. But then Charlie told Alastor the number of complaints from guests about you and your pranks.

"They are absolutely harmless! What's a little scare going to do?", the deer demon said.

"Someone had a heart attack.", Vaggie piped in.

"Nuh-uh!", you popped up out of nowhere, making the two females jump in surprise. "That frog demon croaked! He's just mad that I made him make a funny sound."

The blonde sighs before holding out a flyer to the red dressed demon.

"Look, I know you're just having fun but not all demons think its funny.", she tells you before looking at Alastor. "There's a school for demon children not too far from the hotel, maybe they can meet demons their age and make friends?"

After dinner you and Alastor sat down on the couch in the hotel room and read through the flyer.

"I don't want to go.", you pouted.

"Don't worry my little terror, we'll think of something.", he booped your nose. "Perhaps we can use this as training!"

"Training?", you repeated.

"Yes! We'll use this as an opportunity!", Alastor said as he stood from the couch, turning to hold out a hand for you to take. "Come little one, there's much I have to teach you."

.

"Remember what I taught you little one!", Alastor says, fixing their coat. "Anything can be a weapon..."

"With enough force and creativity!", they said confidently.

"Correct!", his smile brightened. "Now, let's go show the ladies that you are a proper demon with manners so they feel bad for sending you out. Remember to look sad."

"Hmhmm!", the nod again before taking a deep breath, putting on their sad face and looking down at the floor.

"Perfect.", he approved before leading them by the hand down to the lobby.

Both of the girls were waiting by the entrance doors to say their goodbyes to the little demon.

"We are ready!", Alastor announces.

"Hey! We got them a-", Charlie starts before noticing the little demon's sad face. "..lunch box."

Vaggie squints at them but doesn't say anything.

Though the Radio Demon can see that his little one's sad face is affecting her as well, the moth demon clenching her fists.

"Now, what do we say mon petit?", the deer demon pats their back.

"I'm..", they say but don't look up yet. "I'm sorry for being bad and I'll go to school so..", finally they look up at the girls with little tears starting to well up. "Please don't be mad anymore."

Charlie is obviously affected the most and looks over at her partner, receiving a shake of the head from the white haired demon in response.

The princess takes a breath before handing over the lunch box to the little demon. "Its only for a little bit, alright?"

"Ok..", they say, still keeping up with the act before turning to face him. "Bye Alastor."

"It won't be for long, don't worry.", he 'reassures' them. "I'll pick you up when school is out."

They nod before hugging his side.

He pats them on the head before waving them goodbye as they walk out of the hotel and to the school bus.

Bidding the ladies adieu, Alastor lets his smile widen after turning away from the two, wondering how his little demon will cause chaos.

I can't wait to hear all about it~

*wipes away tears after typing out the fake crying* I was that child huh.

~Seline, the person.

Part 2

Taglist@

@willowaudreykeyes @kiraisastay @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @scary-noodlesblog @naelys-the-aster @ducky-died-inside @biromanticboba @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

#alastor and child reader #platonic #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #x reader #gn reader #alastor the radio demon #child reader #fanfic #the radio demon #radio demon #demon child reader #implied murder #mention of heart attack #mention of kidnapping #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #charlie hazbin hotel #vaggie hazbin hotel #alastor & reader #hazbin hotel x reader

[fallingskiesandrisingseas]

Seems like I am not done talking about Haymitch.

Do you ever think about how he probably got a visit from Snow after he pulls his stunt with the forcefield?

I mean, this IS an act of defiance, a very big one at that. Finnick, Cashmere, Gloss and Johanna haven't had their Games yet. Snow maybe starts using people as prostitutes after he sees how badly losing his family breaks Haymitch, how it kills his spirit.

Imagine Haymitch coming home from the Games, stitched up, gasping for air, still feeling the ax digging into his stomach. And he's angry. Angry for Maysilee Donner, angry for his other two district members.

But he survived the hardest Games in history, despite being from the worst district. And the forcefield? He chuckles at the thought. Well, that was just the cherry on top. We, the audience, now know how smart he is. But he knew all along. He's made a fool out of the Capitol... and he is proud of it. Now there is only a lifetime of peace with his family and his girlfriend. And maybe, just maybe, also revenge.

He walks through his front door after two weeks of Victory Tour, traumatized but alive, and strong, and ready to embrace his little brother... And there sits Snow. Smiling.

Haymitch looks around. He doesn't smell his moms cooking, his brothers laughter isn't echoing in the halls. He can't find his family.

"Where are they?" Haymitch demands. He feels fear travel up his spine.

Snow gives him nothing but a cold, cold glare. "I hope you will think twice about fooling us in the future, mr. Abernathy. Enjoy your retirement"

He walks out. Haymitch doesn't know what to do. Then he runs upstairs.

Their bodies are already cold.

With no one around to help him, Snow counts on Haymitch's grief taking him out.

And it works. For over 2 decades, one of the smartest, most cunning people to have played the Games is nothing more than a bumbeling idiot, trying to drink himself to death. Snow makes sure the force field is a dome, that he has measures to take out tributes who play the game too cleverly.

Who could become a problem, like Haymitch.

He starts threatening beautiful victors to kill their families if they don't play whore for him, knowing that it'll be much better to have them close, where he can watch them, then back at their districts.

He threatens other winners too, but more subtely. If they can't be prostituted, they might somehow get addicted to morphling or alcohol. A child, brother or parent might go missing. He starts showing up at their houses, making sure that every Victor understand that Snow is all powerful. That there is nothing his hands cannot touch. Just so they are not alone and unthreatened.

Where they can plan, where they can brood. Haymitch might be drinking, but he's not dead yet. He hasn't killed himself like other Victors have. Somewhere deep inside him, the spark for revenge is still burning. So he bides his time, keeps himself alive, even if just barely.

Snow knows a lot about grudges, and he knows about the type of people who hold them. He cannot kill Haymitch, and he cannot blackmail him anymore either. He learns from that. So he keeps their families over the victor's heads.

Because otherwise he might get a Haymitch who isn't drinking himself to death. Otherwise he might be in serious trouble. Men like Haymitch, killers with a sharp mind, they might become a problem. Johanna almost becomes one, before he teaches her a lesson and robs her of her strenght. And Finnick Odair knows more secrets than his best spies.

Then the 74th Games happen. And Snow sees, much to his dismay, glimpses of the old Abernathy, of the brilliant mind, of the charming personality. He sees him walking around the Capitol. Making connections.

So of course, he tries to take the girl that looks so much like him out. Fireballs, secret gifts, rule changes; if he cannot kill Katniss, he will kill the image of her.

But then Katniss gives Rue her funeral. Haymitch sees Rue die in Katniss' arms and is transported back, for a moment, to 24 years ago, holding Maysilee. After he sees the berries and he knows she is much more like him than is good for her. He knows she is in danger now.

Snow thinks about how to kill two birds with one stone. He wants Katniss back in the arena. But maybe there is a way to finally kill Haymitch, too. If things work out.

Haymitch is angry beyond belief when he hears the announcement of the Third Quarter Quell. But he's not suprised. He knows Snow.

Almost all the men and women he knows are going back into the arena. He might go back. The chance that Katniss or Peeta comes back is extremely small.

When Peeta volunteers for him, he knows he can't do anything to stop it. The boy is far too noble for his own good. Haymitch admires that about him.

And that is the moment he starts planning. He knows how he needs to protect her, the girl that looks so much like him. And he's heard the rumours about 13. He might be an alcoholic, but he's still clever as the devil himself. He knows - fuck, he doesn't want to, but he's clocked it - that there are other victors that are angry like him. He starts building his alliance, just like all those years ago, in the Games. Only this time he isn't playing a simple game of kill or be killed. This time around it's much more dangerous.

This time, it isn't just his life he's playing with.

But he succeeds. Even though it costs him almost all his allies, he gets Katniss out. And for the rest of the war, he is right there beside her, advising, keeping her alive.

He knows he cannot keep her safe, so he lets her go into the Capitol, lead a team. Clipping a bird's wings is just as bad as killing her, and she is the revolution, even if she doesn't see it herself.

With Peeta's hijacking, she needs a goal, otherwise it might eat her alive like it's eating Haymitch, who curses himself for not being on time. He could have saved Chaff and Peeta if he got there earlier. If only, if only.

He promises himself two things: that if they make it, somehow, he'll take care of her for the rest of his life, and if she doesn't, he will finally do what he wanted to do ever since he found the bodies 25 years ago.

When she comes back they hug for a long time. Katniss tells her about Prim, about the bomb. She tells him about her talk with Snow, although she doesn't tell him what it was about. But he's figured it out already. How could he not? He's spent months studying Coin; he connects the dots almost as fast as Katniss herself. Coin used the bomb to break the resistance. And Gale designed the trap. So he tells her "to remember who the real enemy is" He trusts that Katniss gets it. She is so much like him, anyways.

And because he knows her so well, because the same dark thoughts Katniss has have been racing through his head ever since he looked into broken eyes of his brother's dead body, he replaces the nightshade in her uniform with simple black berries. And he posts Peeta right next to him, near Katniss. Just in case.

But he needs to do one more thing. The day before Snow's execution, Haymitch visits him. He sits down in front of the dictator of Panem and does not move. Snow doesn't notice him, at first. But after years of substance abuse Haymutch cannot get his hands to stop shaking. Snow notices the twitch from the corner of his eye and starts looking at his hands. He wonders if Haymitch can still feel the blood on them.

Then he looks up. Katniss doesn't terrify him, he knows her through and through. She's an arrow, fast and straight. He knows exactly what to expect.

But when he looks in the eyes of the victor of the Second Quarter Quell he shivers, despite the temperature. For the first time in a long while he feels fear.

Because if Katniss is an arrow, Haymitch is a knife. Concealed, sharp, o so deadly. And slow. Very, very, very slow.

An arrow needs to be fired, but knives can twist all by themselves.

Snow doesn't know how to describe the look in Haymitch's eyes, but it looks nothing like the boy he left broken on the steps of his home, 25 years ago. In his eyes is hurt that sits so deep it's become part of him. And rage. Haymitch, drunk Haymitch, cunning Haymitch, in control Haymitch, has to clench his fists and grit his teeth to not strangle Snow with his bare hands.

Snow is at a loss for words. Haymitch only leans forward and moves his finger slowly across his neck in a gesture that leaves nothing to the imagination. He doesn't say a word. There is no need. Snow knows exactly where he is: in that house in the Seam, 25 years ago.

Haymitch gets up.

For the first time in ages, he doesn't feel like drinking.

#haymitch abernathy #hunger games movie #hunger games meta #president snow #katniss everdeen #johanna #finnick odair #peeta mellark #hunger games

[blue-sadie]

Tears Of Gold

Neteyam Sully x Human Reader

Prt 1. Prt 2

Summary: he didn't realize his feelings till it was to late and he regrets it ever since

Warning: reader death, asshole neteyam

Yn pov

It felt cold and dark even though there was light, even though I was surrounded by navi and friends I felt desolate, even though I was with family it didn't feel like home nothing ever did.

It was never was the same after we moved to the ocean no one was the same, kiri was more distant, neytiri was more angry while jake was more stricked with us while tuk was the same but she missed home, lo'ak followed tsireya around like a lost puppy and neteyam who acted as if we weren't friends to hang out with his new 'friends'.

I was left by my self most days except the ones where kiri felt guilty i was always alone or when I had to help neytiri with a few things but it was a very rare occasion.

"You forgot me again" I murmured to neteyam as he sat down beside me "oh sorry" he sighed out again before it fell into silence "what happened to u-" I whispered but was interrupted by nyx a navi girl who was one of the best fishers they have and the one who had eyes for neteyam "come on neteyam" she called out sweetly gesturing him over and he left without a goodbye or a look.

All I ever did here was sit around because no one wants to teach a 'demon' how to help or work around the village so all I do is sit in the sand making small shell bracelets and necklaces.

I stared into the water as it rose and descended on the shore watching as shells appeared and disappeared due to the moving sand i sat there waiting, waiting for a sign or something to happen i was frozen in a thoughtless daze staring into the water as the sun sunk behind the horizon, the water was illuminated by the glowing plants underneath the surface it was always a sight to see.

I don't know how long I was stuck there till I felt a presences beside me, he cleared his throat for me to acknowledge him "mom is looking for you" he murmured not taking his eyes off of me "she isn't my mom" I muttered but instantly regretted my words neytiri was nothing but nice to me but I could always feel her eyes burning stare into the back of my scull when I wasn't looking or the silent mutters of 'demon' under her breath it made me feel like a freak.

"Whats wrong" neteyam asked settling beside me, I finally broke "I don't belong here nete" I said glancing between him and the water "I never belonged here" I whispered as tears glossed my eyes neteyam listened not making a sound, he was scared because he didn't know what to do he used to and he feels guilty for letting you feel this way "i-i" he tried to speak but didn't know what to say.

"You were the only one who really felt like family now your a stranger too" I cried as the tears slid down my cheeks, he wanted to wipe them away and tell you that he still loves you but he knows that was a lie he used to but doesn't anymore he loves nyx.

"I wanna go home" I sobbed bringing my knees up to my chest " you are home yn" he whispered laying one of his hands onto my shoulder i let out a dry laugh as I shook my head "this isn't my home it never was" my throat was dry and sore "come on yn don't think like that" he rumbled as he moved in front of me taking my head into his hands using his thumbs to wipe my tears away "how about we hang out tomorrow for the whole day" he murmurs staring into my eyes "ok" he smiled as I answered him "Come on let's go" he smiled helping me up.

[Next day]

I woke up and ate some breakfast before going to find neteyam who was up and about i neared the his usual spot when I heard them and stopped dead in my tracts "why do you hang out with that demon nete" nyx asked harshly and my heart ached I was the only one he let call him nete.

"I feel sorry for her I truly do or I'd just leave her in the dust" he laughed dryly my hand quickly covered my mouth covering up a sob I stumbled back knocking over a few buckets causing them to notice me.

Neteyam looked at me with guilt and opened his mouth to speak but I just shook my head before running, running away and not looking back, I ran down the shore far away from the village.

I only stopped when my legs gave out falling to my knees with a thud I roughly wiped my tears trying to stop crying but I just couldn't "why" I cried "why" I whaled loudly.

I sat for awhile slowly coming down and being thankful no one came after me "I thought you were different neteyam" I cried rocking myself trying to calm down was our whole friendship a lie were those things he was saying really true.

"Yn yn" I heard multiple voices calling out to me in the distance but I didn't want to be found so I got up and started moving away from them.

Neteyam pov

"What the hell is wrong with you" dad yelled at me as we searched along the beach for yn "I don't know" I whispered I felt guilty but I don't know it was because I was caught or that I said those things "ma jake look" mom pointed at the faded human foot prints "let's go" dad yelled as we started running down the beach.

Yn pov

I was climbing on the rocks that aligned the shore maneuvering myself carefully not to fall but it was becoming harder with the tide rising making some rocks wet and dangerous.

"Yn" I turned abruptly on a rock and screamed as my foot got caught in a crack I fell over scraping my knees before wracking my head against the rock damaging my mask "fuck fuck fuck" I cursed trying to cover the crack.

"Yn" neteyam yelled as he ran over to me his eyes widening as he saw the crack that was starting to grow bigger and bigger "fuck yn where is your spare" he asked his hands running over my waist and back trying to find my spare "I don't have one" I said trying to stay calm and not breathe to fast.

"Dad dad over here" he called out but I already started feeling light headed and sick "i-i can't neteyam" I murmured He carefully cradled my body against his "I'm so sorry" he whispered as his eyes filled with tears.

I lifted my hand up to his face gently caressing his face "I love you neteyam" I said weakly as my hand began to fall but he caught it with his own and kept it by his face "no don't do this" he yelled but I only heard it as a whisper.

I closed my eyes sucking in my last breathe

"goodbye".

#avatar #avatar way of water #avatar pandora #avatar x reader #avatar x reader angst #avatar x human reader #avatar x human reader angst #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader angst #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x human reader angst #reader death

[oppopotamus]

angry sex

trans asra x dom male reader

Warning: nsfw, hate sex/angry sex, spanking, hair pulling, asra has a pussy, petnames such as baby, slut etc, feminine words used to name his pussy, cunt, clit etc

"What the fuck, Asra?" You yell, you've both been yelling back and forth for ages. You've been mad at Asra for a long time, since he's often disappearing without a word, causing you to worry.

Although he tends to go away due to whatever he thinks is important it still gets on your nerves.

"Well, what do you want me to do!? I'm sorry that I sometimes leave for a while and don't mention it to you." Asra says, rolling his eyes.

"That's exactly what I'm fucking worried about. Don't you understand? I care about you but you leave without a fucking word, causing me to worry where the fuck you are." You pause before taking a breath continuing, "Half the time I'm worried if you're dead somewhere. You leave and come back without telling me and just fucking expect me to be okay with it?"

"I don't see what the big deal is, I mean I always come back. So what's the big deal?" Asra's words have you seething with anger.

"You really don't see what the big deal is?" You say completely dumbfounded.

Asra just throws his hands up in the air and huffs.

"Fuck you." He says after a moment.

You move towards him until you're chest to chest.

"Say that again. I fucking dare you." You say, looking down at him with your eyebrows creasing together. God this boy gives you a headache.

"What? Fuck you?" He asks a tad confused.

"Yes. Exactly that." You repeat, arms crossed over your chest as you tower above him.

"Fuck you then." Asra says, starting to get a bit nervous but shakes it off.

"If you say that one more time, Asra then I swear to god." You say letting out a breath.

"Or what?" He asks moving even closer towards you.

"You'll find out."

Asra hesitates for a moment before repeating saying, "Fuck. You." He spits out every word.

"That's the final straw." You say before grabbing his hips with a deadly grip.

You turn him around and push him forward so he hits the table with his hips harshly.

"Hey! That fucking hurt." Asra says, turning his head back to look at you.

You grab a fistful of his hair and push his head down onto the table.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Asra questions.

"Teaching you a lesson." You say, keeping your hand gripping his hair and trace your free hand down so you can grab his pants and rip a hole in his pants right from his ass to his cunt.

"Fuck! (Name), these were my favourite pants."

"I'll buy you new ones."

You take notice of how conveniently he's not wearing any underwear. You raise an eyebrow down at Asra and you can see the hint of a blush creeping onto his ears.

"What a slut, you're getting wet already." You say, ghosting a finger over his cunt.

Asra stutters for a moment and doesn't know what to say until you press a finger against his clit and he calls out your name.

You remove the finger and Asra whines though that whine suddenly turns into a moan as he feels your hard dick grind against him through the fabric of your pants.

"You don't seem to be too angry now huh baby?" You say mockingly.

"Fuck you! I'm still mad." Asra replies, you're not sure if he's still actually angry at you or he's just saying that because he knows it gets a reaction out of you.

Oh well, you're still going to fuck him senseless.

You release your hand from his hair and bring your hands to undo your pants and let them fall to your ankles.

While your hands are not holding his head down anymore Asra takes the opportunity to bring both his hands up to push himself up and turn back to look at you.

Asra's in bliss as he sees your cock slip free from its confinements and raise up, slapping against your stomach.

You smirk down at him as you see his expression, finding it amusing as how just a minute ago he was yelling at you.

He sees you looking at him and glares at you before avoiding his eyes and looking back ahead of him.

"Ah, don't be so embarrassed now, darling." You say tracing a finger up his spine over his shirt, making him shiver.

"J-just put it in already." Asra whispers out, "Do you think you really deserve it after what you just did?" You ask and Asra doesn't answer.

From his lack of an answer you raise a hand and spank him, causing him to yelp and jolt up.

"Fuck! Don't fucking do that." Asra says, turning to look at you again and raising himself up, attempting to fully turn to look at you.

You stand there for a moment before bringing your left hand up and grab a fistful of his hair and slam the side of his face onto the table.

"Shit!" Asra yells out as the side of his face makes harsh contact with the table and grunts as he feels the harsh tug of your hand pulling his hair back harshly.

"Don't." spank! "Fucking." Spank! "Talk." Spank! "Like that." Spank! "To me." Spank! "Ever. Fucking. Again." You say to him, pushing his face further into the table with each spank.

"Aah-!" Asra whines out each time he feels you hitting him, he attempts to move out of your grasp but can't.

"Nothing but a fucking brat who doesn't know when to quit and just behave." You spit out, leaning down to his ear to say the words directly into his ears.

Asra shivers as he feels your dick rub against him when you lean down to whisper in his ear.

You lean back and grab your dick, rubbing the tip up and down the entrance of his cunt, slapping it against it a few times before easing the tip in.

Asra moans out when he feels just the tip in, he forgets how mad he is at you at first until he realizes how rough you were being.

Your hand was still pushing his head into the table, his cheek starting to hurt from how hard you were pushing it down.

"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you." Asra spouts out as he feels you push in deeper and deeper.

You scowl at his words and without a second thought you grip his hair tighter and pull it back whilst roughly pounding your dick deep into his hole.

"Oh god, oh fuck, fuck." Asra moans out as you pull his hair back, pain shooting through his neck and continuously pound into his tight hole.

"Fuck, Asra. You're so fucking tight, your pussy is hugging my cock," You say, pausing for a moment then continuing, "Too bad you're such a fucking brat."

All you can hear throughout the room is Asra's loud moans and the sound of your hips making contact with his ass.

"I fucking haah-hate.. Fuck. You." Asra says, stuttering his words. He doesn't even know what he's saying anymore.

Asra almost feels his eyes roll into the back of his head and you drag his head back and with your free hand bring it down to his clit, rubbing it with your fingers.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck. I'm gonna-" Asra moans out feeling his orgasm creeping up on him from your harsh treatment.

"You're really about to cum just from this?" You say mockingly.

"Fuuck.. I'm, oh god- You're a fucking dick just-!" Before Asra can even finish his sentence he's coming. Hard. He feels you hitting his ass again and again as he chases his orgasm.

When you continue to move your cock in and out again he starts feeling too sensitive.

"Please.. No more, I can't." Asra shakes his head side to side, wanting you to just finish already so he can rest.

"Just take what's, fuck, given to you, alright?" You say to him, you don't last much longer until you're spraying your cum into him.

You let go of his hair and pull out slowly. You both lay there resting for a moment, you don't say anything to test out whether or not he's still mad at you.

"M'sorry.." He says quietly. You rest your hands on his hips gently, rubbing small circles on his waist with your thumb.

"It's okay, baby."

#asra alnazar #asra the arcana #the arcana #male reader smut #amab reader #male reader #dom male reader #top male reader #asra alzanar #asra the magician

[yoonsenji]

Summary: Daddy little girl! (Platonic)

Tokyo Revengers ×××

Character's:- Sanzu (Bonten), Mikey (Bonten), Izana.

Haruchiyo Sanzu!

It was no surprise that Sanzu would have a kid oneday since this man can't keep his dick to himself. You have your mother features the only thing that makes you appear related to Sanzu was your personality.

The Rosy pink haired male couldn't help but groan by your presence, he doesn't really like you even tho you're his own blood (he hope). He would bring you anywhere since he doesn't want you to be kidnapped either, killing and taking drugs infront of you he was unhinged.

While Sanzu was busy inhaling some cocaine the guy he have beaten up which Sanzu thought was dead would slowly rise up. You watch as the man glare at your father and take out a knife, unfortunately Sanzu was too high on drugs to realise what was about to happen. As a sound of bullet piercing through a human skull echo through the broken down building.

Sanzu turn behind to understand what the hell happened just to see the man he had beaten up on the group a puddle of blood forming around his head. A pocket knife on his hand as he look at you, you were still holding the gun as you look at your father with a cute smile. This was when Sanzu knew you were really his daughter.

He treat you better than ever from that day, he always thought you weren't his which make him not treat you that well and since he is too busy to take a DNA test. He always thought some whore who he have slept with just lie and drop you off and run away.

Your mother did just put you infront of Bonten building and put a little note that say "Fuck you Sanzu, you ruin my life. So, you should take care of this plump of cell not me".

The more Sanzu actually spend times with you the more he realised that you are just like him. Your laugh sound like his, you hav his charm, thank God since he doesn't want you to have the charm of a whore, Sanzu was excited to teach you how to used a gun. He would tie up people and used them as a target, whenever you shoot right through their head your father would give you a high five.

Sanzu treat you like a princess if Rindou or Ran tried to mess with you he's so read to put a bullet through their head. "Y/n... Did you know that your mother was a whore?" Ran told you as you only sigh "Yes, uncle I know my mother was a whore... Please enlighten me on how I should react" You reply back, "See, even the kid is annoyed of you!" The younger haitani added as he laugh.

Even Mikey like you which make Sanzu like you even more, just like your father you admire Mikey but unlike your father you weren't the type to lick a ground if Mikey say so.

But, Sanzu start to go to the club not that often now. Even if Ran or Rindou beg him to go as long as if he have a plan with you he would just reject the offer. Sanzu does bring prostituted back home but he always make sure not to be loud although you already understand what is going on.

"Princess, what should I do with her?" Sanzu would ask you as he grab the hair of the woman who tried to steal Sanzu wallet, he asked you since he knew damn well you would always come up with a creative way of killing people. Kids do have a wild imagination and killing someone the same way over and over was boring. "Daddy, why not cut off her hand so she won't be able to steal anything anymore... Maybe after that you can feed her family using her" You reply with a smile on your face the woman skin turn pale as she start to beg for forgiveness. "Ah! My princess is so smart, I'm so proud of you, princess" Sanzu praise you as you smile proudly.

Sanzu sent you to the best school he could possibly find since his princess deserve the best. You were guarded by gang members 24/7 if not they'll die. No matter how dumb you are no school have the gut to reject you since they still want to live, if you're smart the teacher would treat you very good cause their life is on your hand at this point.

You usually hang out at the Bonten building, Mikey allowed you to. Mikey clearly have a favourite and it's definitely you, you weren't noisy nor cause a fight, you would tell him story which makes his life a bit less boring, you listen to him and ask nothing in return and you're a cheeky kid who is good at tricking people.

"So, the unicorn couldn't cross the river because... Even tho there was.... A beutiful tree the unicorn couldn't left his friend behind... The end!" You say with a smile as you close the book, Mikey who was listening to your story closely although you pronounce some word wrong it was pleasent to hear, Mikey still have his childish side so he would asked you to read more story until you fall asleep while reading a story for him.

Manjiro Sano!

Mikey doesn't even know what the hell he was feeling to even have sex with some random chick but now he have a kid... Your mother just casually drop you off and flew to another country.

Your eyes were similar to Mikey a fucking void of nothing. You don't cause tantrums nor cry loudly, you were quite patient and listen to anything your father say, but no one else could literally control you it doesn't matter of Mikey send them if you do not see your father you're causing a big tantrums.

You would sit quietly while drawing a picture using a crayon, Sanzu was your babysitter since Mikey trust him enough somehow. The Rosy pink haired male was not that happy but atleast you're Mikey daughter.

"I could go out with some chick's but here I am babysitting you" the Rosy pink haired male complain once again, even Ran and Rindou were simply sitting there not complaining and Sanzu was only blaming you, "Could you stop yapping your mouth... Y'know some of us have things to do other than yapping" you told the older male as Sanzu was pissed off. Even if you are Mikey kids you ain't Mikey, "I didn't know an idiot like you could talk" Sanzu said trying to hold back his anger, "You're a grown ass adult arguing with a kid, I wonder who the idiot is" Seem like you got your mother mouth.

You're always ready to throw hands with anyone especially Sanzu, among the elite members of Bonten if we forget your own father Koko like you the most. Unlike those idiots you actually know how to used money properly, you somehow managed to pull money out of no where... He used your innocent to steal things to.

Everyday you have a playful fight with Sanzu... It get violence real quick tho, it's either you throw things at him or he pull his gun out and point it at you. You two do not get along very well but you never bad mouth him to your father, even if Mikey tried to stop the daily fight you simply just say it's yours and his problem... No one can butt in.

It's impossible to kidnap you since you're always with Mikey or another elite members of Bonten. Even when you go to school atleast one elite member have to pick you up since you're Mikey kid.

You're the whole reason Mikey haven't completely lose himself so if you're gone everyone is going to be fucked up.

You're literally Bonten princess, you hold a very important role in Bonten since you're the reason Mikey is not insane yet... You would usually be near your father and you weren't afraid of gruesome scene since y'know your father and his friends kill people on daily basis.

Mikey doesn't allow you to touch any of his gun nor any gun, he might be the most dangerous gang leader but he ain't gonna let his princess touch something that can harm them. What's the point of being a good father if you need to learn self defence at early age.

"Rinrin... What happened to my teddy?" You ask as you stare at the teddy bear on the groud, it was really fucked up there was a bullet hole in your bear. "Um... Well you see" Rindou tried his best to find a good excuse since making you cry was bad even tho Mikey isn't here. His older brother Ran was just looking at him smirking, this all happened because Ran said something that provoke Rindou to pull out his gun and shoot which was Ram plan and make him shoot the bear instead. "You... Ruin my bear!" You were tearing up badly. And you cried, you were throwing everything you could get your little hand on and throwing at anyone.

Whenever you get sad or mad you throw anything at anyone only your father can calm you down during such period. Or you straight up bite, kick, pull, scream. You only do such things when you are seriously mad or sad, but after everything you would apologise a half ass apologize you weren't sorry it's their fault for provoking you.

"I swear your father won't like it if you stand out in the rain!" Sanzu was trying to get you out the rain but since any umbrella was near he wasn't ready to ruin his beautiful hair and outfit. "Bleh! No!" You said as you took a step back getting further away from the pink haired male. "Shit man! Why do you have to be so difficult!?" Sanzu asked as you stick out your tongue at him. You were freezing cold but there was no way you were going to back out easily. "Blah blah blah! Keep talking pinky pie!" You said as you told your arm and sit down on the groud. "I'll buy you a dorayaki?" "Okay!".

You're a easy to buy since just like how young Mikey was you were in love with Dorayaki, you never share food tho even with your father you hesitate a bit and give it to him. You only eat food if a flag can be added or else you're not eating it.

You were sitting on the soft sofa as you much on the freshly buy Dorayaki as you swing your life feets, every bite bringing you to heaven as you enjoyed in silence. "Y/n" the younger haitani call out your name as you look at him "Can I eat some... Even a little crust would be nice?" Rindou asked, they bet him to take even a little bite off your food as you smile at him. Rindou for sure though that you'll say yes since the way you were smiling was closed to the word yes. "No" you simply answer as you continue to eat your dorayaki. Rindou look disappointed at himself it seem as his charm didn't work on you and Sanzu and Ran were laughing at him. As your father entered the room you jump up from your seat and walk towards your father with a proud smile. You snap the dorayaki in half although it was not even, "Daddy, want one?" You asked as you already put out the dorayaki for him "Sure, princess" Mikey reply as he grab the dorayaki and eat it. You just simply go back to your seat and just ignore the younger Haitani brother who was simply flabbergasted by the obvious favourism.

Kurokawa Izana!

He doesn't even know what happened that night... He didn't mean to have sex with anyone he was simply too drunk and the girl seduced him.

Now he have to take care of you and yeah the woman even throw the DNA test paper to him.

At first he literally ignore your existence and kaku take care of you all the time. Whenever Izana looked at you, you remind him of himself when he was younger not wanted by his own mother.

Hence, he started to treat you like how he wish to be treat by his mother when he was younger, he would hold your hand while walking, make kaku read bedtime story for you, play the guitar for you and he even beat up any guy who look at you the wrong way.

He tried his best to not get you involved in any of his gang activities but they do adore you alot. Even tho Shion is a scary ass dude you would just play with his hair and listen to him talk about anything. You do not like Kisaki at all... He tried to get along with you but yeah you'll run and hide behind anyone. The haitani brother treat you like their little sister, kakucho is your mother at this point, hanma... He play with you too much.

"Y/n... Why don't we buy ice cream hm...?" Kisaki asked you as you look at him terrified, Kisaki reminds you of a monster which make you run and hide behind the older haitani. "Eh...?" Ran look confused as you grab onto him tightly, "Look like y/n doesn't like you" Rindou said out as Kisaki only Chuckled, he was hella mad inside. His whole plan was to make you like him and kidnapped you.

You don't talk much nor do much, you are just you... Unlike your mother who left you, you were alot calmer and patience, but just like Izana your determination was strong and you got Izana eyes as well.

You would just sit down on the groud and listen to everyone talk since Izana doesn't trust anyone who isn't Kaku... And kaku have to attend the meeting to, most people think you couldn't talk at one point but you could clearly do that.

Izana would never take you to anything that includes other gang... He'll just simply locked the door from the outside door and since he trust you enough to be alone.

But, if anyone dare to bad mouth your father thinking you were too much of a coward to say anything... They're dumb, although you aren't much of a talker unlike your mother, you have the same attitude as your mother.

"Y'know, boss would be nothing without the haitani brother's" the guy say although you were right there "Dude! Boss daughter is right there... Keep it shut or boss will kill us!" The other guy tried to warn his friend as he laugh in response "She is too much of a coward to do shit..." The other guy would simply say. You literally pick up a rock and throw it at the guy "ouch! What the hell is wrong with you?!" The guy asked as you stood up. "Annoying..." you told him as you walk away "Dude I told you..." The other guy told him "She only talk big she won't rat me out" the guy say with full of confidence. You did tell you father and everyone you know...

You rat people out if you have to... Izana is a very sweet and protective dad, he would hold your hand if you ever walk out anywhere. Making sure he doesn't neglect you and have enough time to spend with you. If he can't spend time with you kaku would definitely be the best replacement for such tasks.

Kaku was definitely worried when you didn't talk much and thinks you have a talking problem. He told Izana about his worried, Izana didn't want you to get bullied for such silly reason that Izana start to talk less so you won't be alone... It wasn't that deep tho you just think talking too much is a waste of energy.

You would sit down and work on your little project for hours, you were making a drawing of you and Izana with your crayon which Kaku bought for you. You were very careful with your drawing and whenever you see even a tiny flaw you would just redo the whole drawing.

You tug at your father pants to get his attention "What is it princess?" Your father ask you as you give him the drawing "I draw for you..." You would say with a sweet smile as Izana just smile at you and admire your work as well... "I'll put it on the fridge so everyone will get to see it, okay?" He ask you as you nod your head a yes.

#tokyo rev x reader #anime #tokyo rev angst #tokyo revengers anime #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x you #senju x reader #x you #x reader #izana x reader #fluff #parenting #sano mikey manjiro #mikey sano #mikey x you #mikey x y/n #izana kurokawa #sanzu haruchiyo #platonic #child reader

[aangarchy]

Netflix atla live action s2 predictions

Literally just spitballing here

Aang mastered waterbending off screen. Shocker

Pakku still goes off and marries Kanna in the south pole but we don't get an explanation as to why

Katara doesn't get special healing water from the spirit oasis, instead she gets mary sue'd in becoming the most powerful healer alive capable of bringing back the dead and then for some reason that capability never comes back again

Aang murders general Fong on screen while in the Avatar state

General Fong is also played by Daniel Dae Kim but with a different beard and wig

Suki immediately joins the gaang

Appa never gets kidnapped

Serpent's pass, the swamp, the chase and the drill all get skipped (or drastically shortened), but Avatar Day is gonna get included bc these writers have a bias for Kyoshi

*hands netflix 5€ under table* Sokka canon bisexual?

Jet's not getting brainwashed, instead he gets hired by the dai li to assassinate Zuko and Iroh. Don't ask netflix why the dai li couldn't do that themselves tho

Kyoshi is going to be the one to teach Aang abt the Avatar state

Zutara bait and somehow at the same time also Zukka bait

Sokka can't get high off of cactus juice bc we need to sanatize this version as much as possible which means we can't even imply the use of drugs anymore

Tyzula bait

Toph uses echolocation like a dolphin

Palpable sexual tension between Zuko and Jet

Suki gets bending Somehow idk

#also i'm aware daniel dae kim played fong in the original it's why i made the joke #before i get comments like that lol #avatar the last airbender #atla #avatar #natla #netflix atla #netflix #atla netflix #atla live action #atla la

[fennelrabbit]

Maybe I'll find time to make a longer AT post, maybe even a detailed presentation, but for now I have to say:

The arc they put Simon on for the miniseries is just so, so wrong. It's incompatible and not what his character needs to grow at all.

Simon's problem was never that he couldn't see how important he was to the world or other people. In fact, that was one of the flaws Simon always had - valuing himself based on what he could do for other people, and not for what he values in himself.

Simon lived for Marceline because he needed to care for her and keep her alive. It was the right thing to do, and this sense of purpose slowed his descent into madness a lot more, but it wasn't enough.

When Simon is freed from the crown in the future, he doesn't worry himself about Marceline anymore because she's grown up and outgrown him. She's not a weak little girl anymore so Simon decides in his short time that she can live without him, now that she doesn't need him. Of course he knows that his death would be sad, but Marceline has friends and family now. In his mind, Marceline will be ok because she's not alone.

What else does Simon do with what little time he's given? He apologises to Betty.

Again, it's the right thing to do. Their "breakup" was very scary and confusing. So he makes it his duty to explain himself to her and he tries to set Betty free. "I went crazy. You don't have to feel bad about leaving me. I forgive you". Again, Simon is thinking about his life in relation to other people. He was a bad boyfriend to Betty in that moment, so he must rectify that.

And after that, what does Simon do? Does he fight to stay alive? Does he ask for help, does he try one last time to crack the crown and free himself before he dies?

No. Simon seeks and accepts death because he's tired, and he thinks he is empty. That there is no point to him staying alive.

Nobody needs Simon anymore.

Simon does not value or care about himself.

🐰🐈 So, how does this relate to the Fionna and Cake series?

Well, the issue is that putting Simon on this "Ghost of Christmas everything" style journey through the multiverse does not address Simon's problems at all. Simon isn't a selfish and arrogant character like Scrooge who needed to learn to care about and value other people. In fact, Simon was always very aware of how much people needed him. Simon liked feeling needed.

So this whole "Look Simon, Marceline is evil in the universe where you're dead!" and "in this universe, the crown ruined Finn Merten's life" isn't helpful for pushing or developing Simon's character. If anything, it's just enabling his tendency to value himself as a tool for other people.

And I know people are going to say "yeah, that's the point. In the end Simon learns to live for himself because Betty has moved on from him and wants him to be happy".

But it's like...no??? That's not really a cohesive story at all.

Man wants to die, metaphorically or literally. He can't admit it, because it's shameful to himself. Then someone needs his help, so he uses "helping people" as an excuse to sacrifice himself again, so that he can feel good about himself.

But this multiverse journey doesn't teach Simon to start doing things for himself again. The only new "friends" he makes are Fionna and Cake, and that was really forced. Simon isn't pushed to change anything in his life in the series, because he's not even inside his life anymore, he's hopping around in a multiverse adventure that is basically just a longer, more distracting version of the adventure Finn sent Simon on in episode 2.

Simon isn't shown the benefits of living for yourself. He's only told to keep on living "because he has to". Because the multiverse needs him. This is just Simon and Marcy 2 all over again, but worse, because we're supposed to believe that this experience showed Simon how to care about himself. This is the same reason he was living for Marceline. "Because he had to".

And what's the conclusion of this mismatched character arc? Does Simon finally find something new and exciting that sparks his will to live again? Does Simon make a new friend on his own volition, without the obligation of "saving them"?

No!!! XD We go on another tangent where Golbetty shows Simon he was being selfish because he wasn't paying enough attention to Betty's needs, puts him back in exactly the same shitty situation that pushed him to death to begin with -

Except now, for some reason, he feels happy, and doesn't want to die.

This is all completely wrong!!!!

You can't show a couple's entire relationship with 1 bus scene and then tell the audience it was unbalanced. It looks like Simon is being punished for one mistake (not getting on the bus) even though Betty is an adult woman who makes her own choices, and needs to communicate with Simon as well. It's lazy, it's rushed, and it's so half baked that the sentient dough is raw and asking not to be baked into bread 💀

Simon and Betty's problems are not given enough time to fit into the 'Simon your life impacts others arc' and it doesn't properly address Simon's inability to live for himself at all. We're shown he worships Betty and that his love makes him live for others, but we're never shown why he's like that. There's no new context about Simon, no new information.

We get a little hint that before meeting Betty, he actually was living for himself and doing his own things, but that's it.

And this whole miniseries, as well as reducing Betty to a sexist girlfriend prop again, does nothing to address or even validate Simon's misery.

All it does it tell a depressed, suicidal man that he's not allowed to die because it would make other people sad, and that he plays some stupid cosmic role in the multiverse.

Simon is being treated like a tool, again.

Betty doesn't have her own voice outside of Simon, again.

Anyway, yeah. I didn't like this miniseries obviously, hahaha 😅 and this isn't the only problem I have with it, not by a long shot.

This story was tone deaf and insensitive. Justice for Simon and Betty! They both deserve better writing.

#adventure time #ice king #simon petrikov #fionna #betty grof #cake #fionna and cake #fionna the human #adventure time fionna and cake #adventure time fionna #depression #suicide #MMS #magic madness and sadness #my opinion #petrigrof #Golbetty #Golb #AT criticism #AT critical #Adventure Time critical

[marycorcaroli]

yandere!zoro x inventor!reader.

req: hiii 🙈 maybe you can do yandere zoro x inventor! reader hcs. the reader is basically the inventor of the crew, she can make stink bombs, explosives, and overall, just great gadgets. the reader can't fight with swords or do hand to hand combat but uses her inventions to help her out, zoro kind of becomes protective of her. this is so long whew!!

mary♡: thanks for the request 🌷, i hope you enjoy it, i tried really hard💗 ! iapologize for my mistakes, english is not my first language 🤧

zoro loves you infinitely much, you are the perfect girl for him, but he is just a traumatized asshole who is afraid to make the first move and show his love, but there is one problem, zoro won't let someone hurt you verbally or physically, he would go crazy.

you were beautiful in everything, you could do everything he couldn't and teach him to be better. i think zoro could spend hours watching you do something useful to protect the team, your graceful hands going through what seems like such heavy and hard elements, but you still look beautiful. you can't even imagine how proud zoro was of you when you unveiled your new bomb or explosive that could defeat anything and everything. zoro would never say out loud how wonderful you are, his ego wouldn't let him, but if someone else did, i'm afraid that person would be dead in seconds.

zoro knew you couldn't defend yourself with your hands and was always afraid that you would be found by other pirates who wanted to avenge themselves and you wouldn't be able to beat them, it breaks zoro into tiny little pieces, he thinks about it every night or even every night he thinks about you and how he wants to have you all to himself.

zoro is very possessive, he won't let you go anywhere. you want to go with luffy to help him? nah, how about you stay here and just be quiet with zoro? simple, he's very scared for you and himself too. zoro can't see his future without you, he'll be a literal monster if he loses you, his brain will stop functioning properly and he won't be able to see anything but the blood of the people who took you from him.

it was his biggest mistake, to try to hurt you, to make you cry and leave you bruised in a horrible shade of purple. god, everyone knew zoro was crazy when he saw the pirate next to you, trying to hit you and take the key to the cabin where all your inventions were.

zoro ran towards you, imagining the most horrible ways to kill this fearless pirate who was trying to touch you. zoro was at your side in seconds and threw the man away from you to the farthest corner of the ship, odd that he didn't die from that.

"are you okay? did he hurt you? where did he touch you? " zoro said all this out of breath, he was short of breath from the anger he was feeling, his eyes were running all over your body and face, he was trying to make sure you were okay, but the bruise on your face said otherwise, zoro's eyes were even more aggressive than they had been in a couple seconds, he was literally on fire, his hands were tense and veins were showing on his forehead from how hard he was squeezing you and he didn't want to let go but he had to.

"zoro, it's okay, it doesn't hurt, don't worry about me, h-he wanted to steal all the things i've been doing for so long, but-he didn't have time, i-i wanted to fight back but nothing would come out, i'm sorry, please."

zoro didn't hear your voice, he was terrified of what he wanted to do to that pirate and then keep you all to himself.

zoro will start with something small, just beating him until he hears him begging for forgiveness, but he doesn't care anymore. he hurt you and made you feel fear, which means zoro will do the same thing to him, only a few thousand times worse, he will make the man feel the fear he never felt.

at the end when you ask zoro to stop, he will, but stop for a couple seconds to do something else.

"no one can touch y/n and survive after that, no one. " zoro said it with the coldest look, "you tried to take her from me, but it didn't work and it never will. my face is the last thing you'll see before you go burn in hell."

zoro's words left you shocked, he had never said those words before, you had no idea how he really felt about you, but now it all fell into place.

you are his treasure, his air, his life, you are his completely, not from that moment but from the moment you first met you have always been only his. today, zoro made it obvious to everyone here. you don't have to worry anymore, no one will dare to hurt you or just come near you, zoro won't let them. he will kill them all and spill all that blood for you, he will do anything to keep you with him. and if you think he is too aggressive and you don't want to be with him, he will make you.

#one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece x you #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x reader #yandere!zoro #yandere boy #nonnie's req <3 #nonnie <3 #mary ♡ #mackenyu

[gabessquishytum]

Hob is retired. Yes, he's a little young to have retired, but he lost Eleanor and had Robin to take care of, so he decided to get out of the mob game.

He didn't want Robin to brought up in the life. So he let the smartest of his people (Matthew, Lucienne, Cori......let's be honest, Joanna) buy him out and he took Robin and left the area.

All this is so say, he's out. He has fucking goats and sheep (*sigh* Robin likes the sheep, he has to get permission from his kid to shear them. How the mighty have fallen!) He's not busting heads or shooting people in the f'ing face anymore; he's teaching high school; Robin is thriving; and Hob is flirting with the very cute (mysterious) art teacher, Dream.

Everything is good. Hob is keeping his head down and suppressing his more stabby impulses. Then someone HURTS Dream.

Dream won't tell him who or why, but Hob is patient. He will find out,,,and he will rain terror on those who hurt his Dream. /He also may use it opportunisticly to have Dream move in to the farm.

Hob knows he looks good chopping the wood for the fireplace,,, with his shirt off (okay, okay, with a very tight short sleeve shirt on.)

AJAJSSJAH ex mob Hob is wonderful, I love him, and I need him to stab everyone who has ever hurt Dream in alphabetical order.

Imagine the shenanigans. Hob has just finished taking out a hit on one of the people who hurt his Dream, and this one got messy. Hob has only just finished disposing of the body when Dream comes knocking at the door! So Hob has to desperately hide the knife he just used to gut the guy like a fish, and strip himself out of his bloody shirt. He answers the door with no shirt on and he can't even appreciate the fact that Dream is definitely looking 👀 because he's worried that his secret is about to be discovered! In reality Dream is just there with his little suitcase ready to move in to Hob’s place because now he's terrified that the people who kidnapped him all those years ago are after him again. He's not to know that they're all dead now!

Dream is such a lovely house guest. He delivers AND picks Robin up from school when Hob is busy on the farm (shooting the guys who used to work for Burgess in the face). He cooks! He can only make mac and cheese but Robin loves mac and cheese! It's perfect! He even leans in the doorway of Hob’s farmhouse and watches Hob chopping wood while wearing one of his cute white undershirts (which has some quite suspicious red/brown stains on it but pfffft Dream isn't looking at THAT).

But Dream isn't stupid - he knows that Hob is more than just a farmer and a high-school teacher. He also knows that all his enemies have mysteriously disappeared. He can't help but link those two things together. Especially when he knows that Hob is absolutely DEADLY with an axe.

So he tells himself when he sinks down to his knees and mouths Hob’s cock through his underwear - its just a one time thing. He's just saying thank you. Hob deserves a little TLC.

Needless to say. It's not a one time thing. And Dream doesn't seem to be planning to move out of Hob’s place any time soon. Well, it wouldn't be fair now Robin is so attached to him! And it's fair to say that Hob fucks with just as much skill as he uses to hurt the people who hurt his darling.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft

[p0ssywhippedcream]

I put req in during the last TT, but it wasn't fulfilled due to what happened to you shortly after. And I don't blame you to be clear! Ive been waiting to resubmit it for next time and now I can! I would like to request an apollo x newly immortal! Wife reader, kinda like a continuation of those wedding night and proposal oneshots. Just something cute where he helps her adjust to immortality/ godhood.

Thanks, and take care! ✌️💋

Hi hun!! omg thank you for being so patient and im so sorry your last tt ask got lost in the storm!!!

❁❁❁❁

"Baby, you know you don't have to do that right?" He's smiling as he snakes a hand around your waist, grinning over your shoulder and meeting your eyes in the mirror.

Your feet shift on the cold tile of the bathroom floor. You look down at your toothbrush held in your hand, halfway through squirting paste on. "I know."

He notices the sadness in your eyes even when they're focused on something else. "Sunshine, what's up?"

You sigh. "You don't know how pointless it all seems now."

"What, all the junk mortals do? Setting alarm clocks and repainting houses and all that?" He nudges your neck with his nose, "It never made sense to me anyway."

"You've never been human, you wouldn't know." Your hand stutters and you set the toothpaste down. Apollo watches as you flick the faucet on and run your brush underneath.

"Are you mad I've made you immortal?" His voice is nervous, lips hesitant to follow through because what if he doesn't want the answer? What if he wants to be selfish and pretend you want it still just so he can keep you?

"No," You decide honestly, pausing to speak before shoving your brush in your mouth, "I just miss the little things."

Apollo stares at you curiously in the mirror as you stubbornly brush your teeth, a chore that could be avoided with a flick of the hand.

"Like?" He asks as you spit.

"Mmm.." Your head tilts and he chases it with a kiss to the cheek before standing tall and hugging your body tighter to his chest. "Laundry. I used to hate it, it takes forever and it's boring and sometimes I'd leave baskets for weeks just to avoid it. But today I went in our closet and my clothes were just... there. And I don't even have to put them on myself or wash them or fold them, they're already perfect all the time."

"And that's an issue?" He's genuinely confused, blonde eyebrows rolling in waves as he considers this.

"My mom spent hours teaching me how to do my laundry. She used to yell at me when I refused to do it. She put so much effort in the task of me having clothes ready and someday I'll forget how to even do it because she'll be dead and so is my need to do anything myself."

Your face is nearly unreadable in the mirror, your gaze on the tap as you rinse your brush until Apollo tugs your chin to face him with a thumb and forefinger.

"You don't want to outlive anyone." He knows it in the tremble of your lashes and the bite marks on your lips. You're anxious of being alone with only him as company and he could let it hurt his feelings but he doesn't. He can't outshine you anymore, even if he tried and he wouldn't want to in the first place.

"I don't know how to... I can't let go of myself, Apollo. My humanity is all I am, I don't know what I would be without my imminent mortality."

Your eyes are pinched and full of fear. You need answers, and he doesn't have them. But you also need familiarity and he can give you that.

"Honey," He gives you a chaste kiss, featherlight touch finding your hands as he pulls you to the bedroom, "You're still you. You just have more time."

You follow him with a furrowed expression as he sets you on the bed.

"Close your eyes." You raise an eyebrow and he makes a pleading face so you comply. "Open."

First, all you note is his body heat next to you and then you notice two laundry baskets full of clothes almost as warm as him.

He's giving you a sheepish smile, legs criss-crossed as he sits next to them. "Would you want to teach me? I can't do all this myself.."

You laugh, loud and unbroken as tears spring to your eyes. Apollo nearly tumbles off the bed when you launch yourself across the baskets at him. "I'd love to."

You face squishes against his, letting you feel the giddy grin that takes over him. He knows that humans are patchwork, messy and rushed and full of longing and while he may never understand (TOA say what), he hopes you never loose that part of you. It's what he first fell in love with after all.

#oph.ticket time #ticket time #pjo hoo #pjo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fluff #pjo x reader #pjo x reader fluff #pjoverse #percy jackson series #apollo #pjo apollo x reader fluff #apollo x reader #pjo apollo #apollo x reader fluff #pjo apollo x reader #apollo fluff #pjo apollo fluff #pjo x you #pjo x you fluff #pjo x y/n #pjo x y/n fluff #apollo x you #apollo x you fluff #apollo x reader pjo #pjo apollo x you #pjo apollo x you fluff #pjo apollo x y/n #oph.posts #oph.thoughts

[pocketramblr]

If ask game still up:

Au where One for All works like Doctor Who regeneration

Oh this gripped me

1- Yoichi died in the vault. His brother got too busy and far to make sure Yoichi ate, and he starved. He didn't stay dead.

Yoichi fades in golden energy, and then is in a new body: an angry body, a soldier's body, a body that can fight. His hair is vibrant and spiky, and doesn't look related to AfO anymore. He tears himself out of the vault and runs.

2- AfO kills the Second life of his brother, thinking this will force him back. Instead, he regenerates again. His hair is longer and lighter, but he's still strong and a fighter. This body is built for balance though, technique and not brute strength. The Third life of Yoichi remembers, and runs while his brother is distracted. He continues to fight, but he's smarter about it. Living so long will teach you that. When he's injured, he knows he can't get to a hospital. He limps into the woods to die instead, in the open air and under the sun, not a vault or battlefield.

3- his Fourth life starts young and lasts longer. He wants peace. He can sense danger, now, and he thinks if he had this earlier he would have never been trapped by his brother. But he also can't help himself from fighting, and eventually he leaves the safety of his hermit life. He's in awe to see heroes on the street, and distracted just long enough to let a villain kill him. This time, when the gold fades, his Fifth body is that of a confident hero who here to help.

4- he meets his brother again, who thought Yoichi was lost forever. AfO doesn't know it's him, until he tries to take blackwhip, such an interesting quirk. But he can't, so he tosses the hero aside and snaps his neck. He sees the glow start again and runs to get closer. This time, Yoichi regenerates into yet another hero body- but one who can hide, and his vision is obscured by smoke before he can reach him. Yoichi escapes.

5- On his seventh life, he regenerates into a very different body, but finds it's not as dysphoric as he'd have expected. He decides he could take gender or leave it either way, but it's quite nice to be pretty again. She falls in love, and is sure her brother won't find her in this body, he didn't see the last regeneration. But somehow, he catches AfO's attention anyway, annoying him in just the way siblings can. She's killed, and even in the bright light if the explosion, AfO would know that gold anywhere, a younger hero boy darting out to grab Torino and flee. This is Yoichi's eighth time around, and he's stronger than ever. He grieves more for his husband and son than his brother. She's going to kill AfO, if it kills her too.

+1- finally, he does it- AfO falls dead, and as All Might, he does too a moment later. The difference is that he gets a wave of light, and finds herself in a much smaller body. A young child, not unlike his last glimpse of Kotaro. Perhaps nine years old, and cute if not noteworthy in appearance. A child, marking a band new life now that he's free of AfO. He leaves the battlefield, and wonders what cover name he should use this time.

He's gone before AfO's body starts sparking gold too, changing. Returning. Regenerating.

#anon #pocket talks to people