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gremlingottoosilly · 2 months

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Horsin' around (Centaurus!Konig x fem!Reader)

Konig is exiled from his people. You are exiled from yours. Together, you make about 6 legs and a perfect pair. Tags and CW: Size kink (duh), Centaurus!Konig(horse cocks), Konig is awkward, slight dub-con, power imbalance, belly bulge, praise kink, monster fucking. Thanks @kneelingshadowsalome for the prompt! AO3| Word count: 3016

Centaurus are not wild animals. You keep repeating it to yourself as you come deeper and deeper into the forest. You keep mumbling it to yourself as you feel the eyes watching you. judging you. Centaurus are not wild animals even if sometimes they behave like one. Not like you’re any different, any better – you’re a human, invading the sacred forests. You’re a human who is dumb enough to go foraging into the depths of their territory. Centaurus are not wild animals, but you don’t feel that repeating the same sentence over and over makes it sound any more convincing. You feel the danger in the air – with each step you take, with each fallen tree you’re stepping over. With every attempt to simply run ending up not working, you know you got lost. Long abandoned the basket you came with – you don’t recognize a single berry that grows here, not a mushroom or even some edible plant pieces to be found. This place is devoid of animals, of flowers – like something just snatched it all away. Ate it all, maybe. You don’t want to think what kind of creature could cause a migration like this. You don’t need to think though. Because the creature finds you first.

You yelp in a mix of surprise and horror when the arrow flies right in front of you, the skill of the archer is high enough to make the arrow cut down a few bits of hair in front of your eyes. If you were a mere millimeter closer, you’d be dead. If he wanted you dead, you’d be dead. This much is obvious. You freeze in place, not daring to move an inch when you hear it. Loud, not even bothering to conceal the sound of it – the creature was confident enough that the prey wouldn’t run. Not the creature, you correct yourself immediately. Centaurs are not animals, they are closer to humans than a lot of other monster types – with their strength and warrior culture, you’d say that they are even more humans than citizens of the village who forced you out.

The centaur doesn’t even bother to hide himself from you, concealing the sounds of heavy hooves on the ground or evading the branches that crunched against his body. This is exactly what made you surprised when you understood that instead of a rough, but mostly handsome face that most centaurus tend to have, you’re met with a black hood which only spared two holes for the icy-blue eyes staring back at you.

Is he a grim reaper? An executioner for other centaurus? Would that mean you don’t have to worry unless your lower part resembles a horse?

You take a quick look at your bottom half. Not a horse.

Centaur reapers the gesture, looking at his bottom half too. Definitely a horse.

You decide to speak first, hoping to find words that would work just fine to be your last.

— I am really sorry for intru…

— This is not the sacrifice season yet.

Ah, well.

The people from your village believe the centaurs to be sacred – despite them being monsters they knew a lot about, they were still given sacrifices. Food, some farm animals, especially fatty pieces of meat, and fancy jewels along with some weapons. Centaurus kept the worst predators at bay, herding the wolves to be their pets and sometimes driving deer and rabbits away to the village. They kept you protected from werewolves and orcs – with a meager payment of never touching the sacred grounds.

You just stepped into the deepest, most protected part of the forest. You wonder if you would deserve a peaceful death.

— It’s not. I…I made a mistake.

No, you wanted to be here. When the village decided to drive you out, you thought that foraging in the part of the forest, untouched by humans, would be the most profitable thing. Centaurus won’t take berries anyway, right? But they might just take your life.

— A mistake?

He tilts his hooded head to the side. It’s such a boyish expression, that you almost let go of a nervous giggle. Perhaps, you were going crazy…but the centaur seemed a bit nervous. As seasoned as he looked – with battle scars covering his body and a bit of silver mixed with his ginger fur on the horse part – he seemed almost awkward standing here. Tapping one of his hooved legs like a nervous child. Squeezing the bow in his hands with vigor that made you scared he will just snap it in half.

— I just wanted to take some food.

— Is there a hunger?

— No.

— Humans aren’t allowed in these parts. Why would you go if not out of despair?

You gulp.

— I…am not allowed back.

— Why?

Because you’re a forest witch who will doom them all, according to the village of a horse people worshippers. Because you’re a monster in disguise who keeps straling babies, according to the village that uses the best pieces of food to feed the horse people who can take of themselves just fine, instead of feeding it to the orphaned children. Because you’re a whore who refuses to accept the new type of sacrifices – the virgins of the village as a breeding material for the Centaurus, according to the village filled with people who would gladly push a poor virgin out in the forest once she turned of age, so she could be mauled by horse people.

— We had…mutual disagreement.

You stare at the mighty body of the centaur. You fight the urge to get your hands down his torso, play with its short hairs, and…you were always a bit of a horse girl. Wondering if he is strong enough to lift you up and get you somewhere safe, somewhere far far away from here.

Centaur has this weird, almost boyish tone. Deep and yet, sounds just a bit deranged. Unhinged. Like he is going to maul you any second – and judging by the bow and arrow still in his hands, he might not be wrong. You lick your lips. He stares at them – or at least you think he is. Hood only reveals his eyes and you can already get lost in them. Cold, like the northern sea, Like the snow outside. You thought all mythical creatures were supposed to be warm-blooded.

— You’re exiled then.

He isn’t asking. Centaurus are omnipotent and wise, they should know about human affairs more than humans themselves. You made them into sort of gods – you shouldn’t be surprised that this guy knows way more than he should. Somehow, you still feel safer around him than other humans – and maybe, it’s more of a you problem. Maybe, you ended up eating some of the weird berries and it’s just your hallucinations before you die.

— I am.

He takes a step back. He is big – all of them are, you suppose, but, somehow, he is bigger than he should be. Giant, muscular torso on top of an already muscular and big horse part – he can pick you up, throw you, and break you with one finger, probably. No, definitely. You don’t want to give him a reason to, so you just stay in place. Hoping he wouldn’t deem your trespassing as a matter worthy of a torturous death.

— My name is König, human. Repeat, ja?

The name feels weird on your tongue. Rude, sharp. You don’t want to call him wrong and receive his wrath, so you try your best to repeat this.

— Ko-nig. Ja?

You tilt your head to the side, a curious little bird. Centaur – König, König, König – squints his eyes like he is smiling. You made the god smile. The horse god. The horseman. Just…man. If you don’t look down, where you already see something giant and heavy standing between his horse legs, you could forget that he isn’t a man at all.

Suddenly, you feel light. Suddenly, you feel your legs dangling in the air as you were picked up and bumped into the broad chest. Suddenly, you feel hands everywhere. On your ass, under it, touching your chest, your stomach, trying to get to the best position so you would stop moving constantly and trying to get out. You don’t want to fight him because you’re already in the air and falling right now could result in a broken neck – but you don’t want to be suspended in the air either. You whimper, pathetic sound escaping your lips as you feel calloused hands pressing on your mound. Traveling down your stomach and touching, squeezing, petting your delicate parts.

You spend so much time without a gentle hand or a soft touch, you can feel yourself dripping on the fingers of a centaur. Embarrassing, yes – but you know that if he were to proceed, you wouldn’t really resist.

And oh, he proceeds.

— They finally send us proper sacrifices.

He mumbles it into your hair, taking in your smell. You’re nice for a human – not scared of him too much, not trying to ran away or fight. Humans are usually just annoying insects under his hooves, but König can feel your face growing on him. Your body, too. Too weird for other Centaurus, never being able to find a proper mate who could take his lack of social awareness, he found himself mounting a human. His tribe would call him pathetic. His tribe would laugh.

Then again, he is the first to get such a delicate little gift. Who is laughing now?

You aren’t crying in his hands, and he is a bit surprised. You smell like a proper mate, like a good bitch in heat just for him – yet, you’re not falling on your knees to present your dripping cunt. You’re just trying to whimper to ask him to be gentler, and he is happy to oblige. Calm enough to listen to you. Ripping your pants apart because this is such a useless piece of clothing – concealing your rich smell from him.

König doesn’t waste any time when he dips his finger across your swollen folds. Playing with the slick running down his wrist, smiling as you are closing your eyes and pressing your head in his chest. He is strong enough to keep you suspended in the air without a care in the world. Weak human, he would have to spend so much time preparing you for him – taking his cock would be a task no sacrifice ever competed before.

König stares at your dripping pussy that is already clenching around nothing just because his fingers are pressing on the hood of your little clit, and he knows you’d be the perfect wife for him. Taking him properly as his mate, moaning as his cum fills you up. he can’t wait – knows that he should, preparing you properly. His hooves are beating the ground in impatience as his fingers slide in and out of your pussy. You spread your legs, moaning louder. Such a filthy whore for him.

— Relax, human. Be a good mate.

— This isn’t what I wa…

— Quiet. Such a good…good girl, Schatz. Will bring me strong children.

— We can’t have sex. It’s im…impossible.

You whimper, trying to squeeze your legs, to shut his hand. You only moan louder, knowing that you would accept everything he gives you, and ask for more.

You don’t want to imagine his cock entering you over and over, forcing its way past your walls and making you round and soft with his children. It’s a foreign concept – centaurus shouldn’t mate with humans, it should be physically impossible. Yet, you almost want to try. A breeding mare, made for one and only.

König gets you on…something. It isn’t exactly a natural thing – a pile of stones and trees, perfect height for you to lay your back on, with some soft leaves and animal skins to rest comfortably. His hands support you on the perfect height and you immediately know what he construction is. A mating stand. Probably for other centaurus – but you feel almost fine laying on it too. Almost normal. Your muscles sting as you try to rest your legs and then spread them wide enough for König to stay between them. He is a big guy, after all. He turns you around, on your tummy. Ass in the air, you don’t like not seeing him. The heavy musk fills your nostrils, making you suddenly aware of what is about to happen – you’re wet, spread enough on his fingers, calloused fingertips scrubbing your gummy walls from the inside. He is fingering you with ease, but it doesn’t feel like a man with experience – he is touching and probing like he doesn’t know what he is doing and, honestly, you kinda like it. He is exploring your body with his and you moan, not caring that you sound like a whore. Humans have already abandoned you as part of society – you might as well just take it. — I will prepare you.

— It won’t fit… — It will, Schatzen. You’ll get used to it. — What if I break?

— I will be careful. Trust me, ja?

Even his fingers are a bit much when he enters your body with a third digit. One, two, three – you are about to burst when he is massaging your G-spot, when he is smiling in your hair and gets you so aroused just on it alone. You’re about to cum when he slowly extracts his fingers, deeming your sloppy cunt as explored enough. Your walls are clenching around nothing, a beautiful display of desire – maybe, it was the right call that humanity abandoned you. König looks at the perfect centraius whore on display and he can’t wait to claim you. To make you his.

He is exiled from other centaurus.

You are exiled from humans.

What a beautiful fucking pair.

He enters your body slowly deliberately. Regrets it immediately – you are wonderful. Too perfect to be this slow, being soft with you is torture. Your walls accept him with a stretch, like a warm glove around his cock. Slowly shifting, softening, straddling his cock with each inch he buries in the depth of your warm, weeping cunt. He can’t touch you, as unfortunate as this is – dumb horse body is making it impossible, even looking at you is hard enough on his neck. He wants to mount you properly, but you’re simply too fucking small. Wants to touch your hair, to whisper some encouragement that human women would probably love to hear – but he can only breath heavily and enter you, one painful centimeter after the other.

— T…too much, too much, please, I can’t, it’s… You whimper, you cry, it breaks his damned heart because you don’t deserve this. You need to be treated with care, with softness and yet, he can’t give you that. He wants so much to just put you in his arms and hug you, but that would be impossible. König will give you all the coddling in the world after you’re done. After he is sure that you received all the possible breeding and seed he could gave you.

— Quiet, human. It would be nice soon.

— It’s not…

— Touch yourself, please, bitte. I can’t…can’t touch you. But you will feel better.

Your hand goes between your legs, playing with yourself. Spreading your folds around his cock even more, fingers sliding past your clit. Touching the little button and hoping it would be enough to make you aroused – and it is. Your cunt is a mess of your own juices mixed with König’s pre cum, and you already know that you won’t be walking the next couple days.

König bottoms with a deep sigh, and you feel him in your stomach. Bulging with his giant cockhead, making the outline of his cock visible – you touch it with shock, not understanding how your organs are even in place.

He starts moving and you finally feel it – the burning pleasure setting fire in the pit of your stomach. the excess liquid pouring from your damp cunt, moans spreading from your lips. You never felt this way with a human before – then again, no human cock would ever be able to compete with König. He can reach the parts of your body that you never knew existed, and the mix of pheromones and musk is making you dizzy. Light-headed. You don’t even need to touch yourself more to feel the height of your orgasm, building in as rapidly as König’s thrusts.

In, forcing its way to hit your cervix gently, massaging the sore spots of your tight pussy.

Out, grazing over your inner walls, touching all the buttons.

In again, filling you up with his pre-cum. Moaning loud enough for the whole forest to hear.

Out, dragging you back with him, as you’re still impaled on his cock.

— S…so perfect for me. Scheisse, so pretty… He can’t touch you and it breaks his heart. König goes to praise you instead – words feel awkward on his tongue, but he knows you need to heart it. He wants you to hear it, wants you to fee wanted, entitled. Soft. He smiles when you whimper and moan, milking him for his orgasm. Your cunt is made for him and he wants to spend every waking moment buried inside of it. Gods, you are a perfect sacrifice.

He is coming embarrassingly fast, pumping his giant cock even deeper into your pussy. Filling you up with hot cum that can’t even stay inside of your cunt. Leaking everywhere, you two are making a mess – you breath heavily, not understanding what is right and wrong anymore. Only knowing, remembering the shape of his cock. Pushing in and out, forcing its way in. God, you feel full. And ridiculous. And so, so perfect with his cock slowly starting to pump you again. And again. Konig came embarrassingly fast, but only because this is just the first orgasm in a row. Forcing its way inside, you are overstimulated already – but you will take him, of course, obviously. You have to.

König is going to enjoy breeding a new clan out of you.

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headspace-hotel · 1 year

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One of the things that struck me about Robin Wall Kimmerer's perspective when I was reading Braiding Sweetgrass was the way the ethical obligation to life she discussed contrasted with the colonizer's culture.

It is increasingly popular to find it inherently unethical and exploitative to kill animals for food or to farm them for animal products, and instead eat and wear "plant-based" things. This is an impulse toward ethical treatment of non-human living things.

But this way of seeing animals as "lives" and behaving accordingly, depends on seeing plants as non-lives. Asking whether we have ethical obligations toward plants is so absurd, it's dismissed as trolling.

I've known many people who farmed or hunted animals who had a great reverence for their lives. Some people would think that this is not genuine and that it is never morally acceptable to take a life for your own use.

Kimmerer discusses Indigenous use of animals. But when a tree needs to be cut down or a plant uprooted, there is the same vivid awareness that a life is being taken, that the plant's life is A Life.

Now I'm troubled by the dismissal of plants as providing total freedom from guilt and moral responsibility among many people and organizations who see animal life as deeply sacred. Plant based products are cruelty-free alternatives to animal products and plant-based diets mean nothing had to die for your meal.

I understand not wanting to support cruel industries or being uncomfortable with eating animals, but the more I learn about plants, the less I believe that all animals have something all plants lack, that means we have moral obligations toward animals and not toward plants.

Plants are incredibly unlike us, but they respond to their environments, they communicate with other plants, and they engage in behaviors. Objection to potential plant intelligence and sentience (ability to feel) is more cultural than scientific; we are just only beginning to scratch the surface of the inner world of plants. What if we have to respect plants as life? What does respect mean then, if we have to explore the idea that it doesn't necessarily contradict taking life?

#plants #random

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aerithmybbgmypookiemywife · 19 days

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Genshin SAGAU where GN! Reader reads a fanfic about them being a sub.

people of tevyat look in horror as a fanfic about you being a sub is released, not knowing you ARE actually a sub. not proofread. also shoutout to @/gameperson23100 (not sure how tags work here im just a tumblr noob so i just did like a twitter thing) they were in my comments on my first post about this and had an idea about a sub reader! i just expanded on it a little :))

Creator! Reader who seems so elegant yet have such an untouchable aura towards them. Everyone praises them for being so mature, for being so calm and collected towards stressfull siturations, everyone fawns over them. Just one glance from their slightly intimidating eyes has their knees trembling. The archons praise them as someone to really look up to, a true pillar of Tevyat.

When fanfictions like the Creator x Reader became popular, there was an unsaid rule that you were the dominant one in the relationship.

So imagine everyones suprise when a book from an anonymous author potraying the Creator as a sub pops up in Inazuma. Yae Miko was suprised this was published unsupervised! She shut it down but it was too late, almost all of its copies were sold! Everyone was baffled at how the author potrayed the Creator, when it came to their duties, the author wrote them perfectly but when it came to the romance between the Creator and whoever the reader is... It was a catastrophe! The Creator? Submissive?? Down on their knees?? Begging?! Getting degraded and liking it?!?!

BLASPHEMY!

People of Tevyat were conflicted at this book, everyone had divided opinions. Some saying that the Creator is a sub, while some saying they are a dom. There are a few people who suggest that the Creator may be a switch but this gets shut down by both sides. It even reached the scholars of Sumeru! With debates turning into heated arguments that escalates into fights.

The archons, except Nahida, were upset at this book as this somewhat taints your image. (although they secretly love the idea of the creator being beneath their feet) The acolytes were also divided and different opinions, with Alhaitham finding it somewhat interesting while Kaeya found it a little hilarious and treated the book like a parody. Xiao on the other hand, had the same opinion as Zhongli, the book may taint your image thus he made it his mission to hunt down the anonymous author. Itto, who got the book from a random stranger he befriended, treated the book like a sacred scripture or a guilty pleasure. He knows it's probably bad but he just can't stop reading it! Wriothesley read the book during tea time, and thought that the idea of the Creator being a sub was possible...

"And that concludes the report on Fontaine." Neuvillette concluded his report. You only hummed in response as you looked around the room. the Archons were there and some acolytes were also present in the meeting. You felt as if they have something they want to ask but is holding themselves back.

'...Is it about the book...? Fuck, why did it have to be so accurate...' you thought.

You cleared your throat, "I'm sure all of you are aware of a certain book going around." you spoke up, their minds started scrambling, thinking that you would be upset and angry that they haven't found the author yet. "Your Grace, we are all working hard to hunt down the author and imprison whoever they are." Zhongli spoke up, you shook your head.

"No need, it's... An interesting book." you told them, you cleared your throat again, trying to ease your embarrassment. That book ended on a cliff hanger too! No way in hell were you going to imprison the author after writing an accurate potrayal of you!

Everyone didn't show it in their face but they were shocked, but even more shocked at how red your ears are while you tried to keep a calm face. Did this mean that you didn't mind the potrayal of the book about you?! Or are you truly a sub?! Do you just like the book?! What is it???!! HOW IS IT INTERESTING??!!? Their minds were filled with unanswered questions.

Word spread to Tevyat really fast, and as soon as they heard that you called the book interesting, it just added more fuel in the debates about you being a sub or a dom. Like two groups in the same fandom fighting for their non canon ship! The book would still be treated like an illegal book, a guilty pleasure.

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #genshin x reader #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin sagau x reader #sagau x reader

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zvtara-was-never-canon · 3 months

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Can you give examples of Aang showing Empathy? Oh wait, you can't.

Actually, I can - because unlike you, I base my opinion of the characters on the actual stuff that happened in the story, not the bad faith takes dumb people on the internet come up with.

Zuko literally only survived past book 1 because Aang was the ONLY person amongst the heroes that gave a single fuck about his well-being. Aang offered to be FRIENDS with him as early as episode 13, even though this dude is trying to kidnap him.

In the first damn episode we see him realize and try to remedy Katara's struggle with no longer being able to act like a kid and have fun. He wants to travel with her so SHE gets to learn waterbending. He willingly lets Zuko take him into his ship because he understood that a conflict could lead to the people of the water tribe getting hurt or killed.

In Warriors of Kyoshi he apologizes to Katara for letting all the praise and admiration go to this head. He makes sure to put out the fires Zuko and his crew started in Suki's village.

He tries to help remedy the Hei-Bai situation, even though he is unsure of himself and even scared, because he knows he is the only one that has any chance of helping - and the thing that allows him to connect with Hei-Bai is the fact that he is ALSO upset about the destruction the Fire Nation has caused AND hopeful that the world would eventually heal.

He thinks Jet is awesome because he wants to help people that are being oppressed by the Fire Nation - and then is horrified when he finds out his intension is to "free" them by killing everyone

He wants to help the two rival groups not only safely cross the Great Divide, but also stop hating each other.

He confesses that he hid the map to Hakoda because Bato, Katara and Sokka are showing how much they appreciate and trust him and he feels unworthy of it after what he did because he knows it'd hurt him if the roles were reversed.

He is so devastated by the fact that he ACCIDENTALLY hurt Katara that he swears to never firebend again. He is also able to recognize the same principle behind his mistake in Zhao's fighting style, allowing him to win the battle against the bastard.

He accepts the fact that the Northern Air Temple is now occupied by people who not only don't belong to his culture but also don't understand it and unknowingly destroyed something sacred to him (and that one of them had been forced to make weapons for the Fire Nation) because these people have nowhere else to go and he doesn't want them to suffer.

He is furious at Pakku for refusing to teach Katara waterbending, because he knows how much it'd mean to her and how unfair it is that she can't learn it just because of her gender.

He is so devastated by the death of the Moon Spirit that the Ocean Spirit latches onto him to avenge it and save the day - and the leve of destruction it causes haunts Aang, even though the violence was against his enemies. And still, he tries to go into the Avatar state again because people are dying and he can't accept that.

After the fall of Omashu, he wants to rescue Bumi, not because he needs a teacher, but because they're friends.

He felt empathy for Toph when she was explaining to her parents how lonely and unappriacted their over-protection made her feel.

He and Katara both feel bad for snapping at Toph during "The Chase" and wanted to apologize for not understanding that being part of a group was a radical change to her, even though she had refused to even try. He also didn't have a problem with fighting alongside Zuko and Iroh against Azula, AND he looked concerned when Iroh was injured.

After Katara comments on the fact he called Toph Sifu but not her, he calls her Sifu while bowing, to show that he respects her both as his master and friend.

The hopelessness and downright depression he was feeling after Appa was stolen only starts healing because he saw a couple being happy with their newborn baby - the same couple he decided to help cross the Serpent's Pass, even though he and his friends had just been allowed to take a much safer route to Ba Sing Se.

His understanding and sympathy towards Jet, even after everything the guy did, was so strong that it freed him from literal brainwashing.

He doesn't want to push his love for Katara aside to gain power because he cares about her too much - and then does it anyway because, even though not making her his main focus 24/7 offers the risk of her being hurt, him neglecting his mission guarantees she'll get hurt.

He is devastated to learn that the world thinks he is dead because he knows he was everyone's last hope - and yet in the end he still accepts the burden of failure because he understood that, at that moment, everyone would be safer if no one else knew he was still alive.

He goes to a Fire Nation school and bonds with the kids, wanting to give them a taste of freedom and joy, as well as trying to understand what the war is like from their perspective. The same episode also has him pull Katara for a dance because he noticed she was feeling left out.

The boy felt empathy for, and understood the mistakes of, both Ruko and Sozin. SOZIN. Aang could see the humanity in the monster that is responsible for him losing his entire culture and everyone he loved.

When Zuko spoke about wanting to control his impulses so he wouldn't accidentally hurt anyone, Aang explicitly connected with that struggle and saw them being teacher and student as fate, and Zuko agreed because that's how deep their connection was.

Aang is not happy about Katara wanting to murder a man, but he still lets her take Appa on her mission and is not disapproving when she ultimately spares the guy but does not forgive him and makes it clear she never will.

He feels empathy for freaking Ozai, to the point that refuses to kill the guy - even as he has the balls to say that Aang's family, his people, deserved to die. He spared that guy - but only after he had a way to do that without it meaning the death of more innocents. Aang, the pacifist, was going to turn his back on everything he believed in just to avoid more human suffering.

So yeah, miss me with your bullshit and don't come back until your brain is developed enough to understand a cartoon aimed at kindergarterners.

#anti zutara #pro aang

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shkudss · 1 year

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Weakened by Eywa Pt. 1

Masterlist

Summary: Ao’nung finally realizes that his actions have consequences

Warnings: curse words, bullying, mental breakdown, English isn’t my first language

Author’s note: it my first Avatar writing, so I hope you like it! This idea was spontaneous and I’m not really good at writing, but I hope you’ll enjoy it! I’m still learning how to use Tumblr properly since I don’t really use it 🥲

Yawntutsyip - darling, little loved one

Yaymak - foolish, ignorant

You thought that all these days when you flew to the water clans were the hardest in you life. Little did you know that life with Metkayina would be harder. You expected to finally live a normal life, doing your chores without being sacred to be shot by sky people. Now you’re safe, but things didn’t get better.

Since your arrival, these boys were bullying all your siblings, including you. You have no idea why it is important for Ao’nung to see totally similar to him Na’vis. You all are same avatars with slight differences that were unavoidable due to the environment you’re supposed to live in. Oh, yeah… supposed to live.

“What are you even doing here?”

“You’re so useless to our tribe”

“Go back to your monkey house”

All these words almost engraved in you mind without leaving space for other thoughts and hope. It’s been two weeks since you arrived and you still haven’t ridden an Ilu successfully, you can’t hold your breath as Metkayinas do. This makes you feel horrible and believe all these mean words.

“C’mon, Y/N, you can do it!”

Neteyam is trying to teach you how to deal with ilu and his voice is so calming, he really believes in you as an older brother. You wish you could just believe him, but insecurity lays too deep and securely in your mind.

“I don’t know… I can’t…”

Your voice was really soft and quiet as you’re the calmest child in your family. You don’t like loud sounds and fast actions. That’s just the way you are. Neytiri says that Sylwanin was just like you.

Despite being slower and more sensitive that other Sullys they loved and protected you with all their heart. Jake knew that Kiri and Tuk are different, they can deal with their problems a lot easier, while you cannot. When something bad to your family or yourself happens, you worry a lot and you won’t tell anyone about your worries unless they make you to. That was the hardest part of you character.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you need to take a break? We can continue tomorrow, don’t worry yawntutsyip.”

Neteyam was worried about your mental state, you were too quiet these days and it never meant anything good. Trying to make you speak about your feelings was completely impossible. You always think that your family has too much to worry about to burden them with your own issues. You want to be like Kiri and Tuk. That’s hilarious, Tuk is way younger than you but she’s able to deal with her emotions way easier than you.

“I’m good. Can we just take a break for like half an hour? I think my brain melts.”

You awkwardly smiled at the end trying to lighten the mood. Neteyam smiled back, feeling relief as you seemed to be just tired. He didn’t want you to hide anything from him and your family.

“Okay, yawntutsyip. I’ll go find Lo’ak and make sure his ass hadn’t get in trouble again. Kiri is on that side of the beach by the way. You can join her, she’s probably flirting with plants again. Let’s meet here in an hour.”

You laughed at his little joke about Kiri. But that’s a fact. Since you arrived here all she’s been doing is examining all local flora and fauna. You missed your time together in the forest, maybe now you’ll have a chance to talk and just be together.

“Okay!”

“Tell me if something goes wrong.”

You knew this look. The big brother look. Sometimes you think how hard it would be for you to live without your family, the way you’re connected to them something really fascinating. And one of your love signs is time. Spending time with your family and each member is the way you show love, the way you feel protected and loved.

You see Kiri laying down in water and looking for something. She didn’t see anyone around, attracted by… water? You didn’t try to understand what’s going on in her mind.

“Hey, pandora geek.”

You stood in front of Kiri and the shadow from your body covered her. Only after that she raised her head and squinted at you.

“I thought you’re with Neteyam. What’s wrong?” She sat on the sand, water was covering her legs a little. You did the same thing, hugging your knees and placing your head on them.

“We took a break, my brain doesn’t work properly. I still can’t ride ilu.”

Hopeless sigh made your sister chuckle, but then she saw your eyes. They were full of sadness, you were not happy. Kiri felt guilt, as your sister she had to be with you, she forgot that Sullys stick together.

“What bothers you?” You were not sure if it’ll be okay to tell her everything. But you family always encourage you to speak what lays in your heart, so you decided to do it.

“There’s a lot… I miss home, I miss flying with you, Neteyam and Lo’ak around Hallelujah mountains.” You were vulnerable now and this is one of those rare moments when you opened your feelings easily. Kiri was the only one you did it with. You could feel tears coming to your eyes, you needed this. “I just miss our way of life. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to get used to it. Especially, when you always hear…”

“Hey monkeys! Still can’t ride ilu? How can you be so yaymak? You’re both freaks!” you could recognize this voice in millions. “One sister has demon blood, another is too dumb to do things that even infants can do!”

Ao’nung and his friends were coming towards you. Kiri’s body immediately tensed, you could feel it.

“What do you want? Is there nothing to do?”

Ao’nung and his friends came closer and you both stood up. Kiri was looking at him angrily, ready to fight. You were supposed to have such a good conversation, opening each other your soul, but this bully spoiled everything.

“My goal for now is to get rid of such fake Na’vis like you two and your stupid little brother.”

You were furious, how dare he talk like this about your family. Yes, he did say mean things to you, but he still picked his words. Now it’s too much. Nobody can talk about your family this way.

“Shut up and don’t get close to me and my siblings!” You tried to get into protective sister mode. Kiri was shocked by the way you raised your voice. She’s never heard such tone from you before.

“Look at this! Little girl knows how to talk?” Ao’nung was teasing you and laughing with Roxto and the rest of his friends. “Maybe you’ll learn how to swim properly soon by the time my future brother or sister will turn 10. Hopefully.”

You clenched your fists, trying to hold all your emotions. Anger, offense, sadness. It felt like a hurricane of extremely high spectrum of emotions, which was hard for you to bear.

“Don’t you dare…”

You didn’t control yourself that you were coming closer and pushing him. The reason why you felt this way was in him.

He did this to you.

You didn’t care that he was taller than you and all you faced was his shoulders. You didn’t care that he barely moved as you tried to hurt him as much as he hurt you. All he did was laughing. It seemed like Ao’nung didn’t understand anything you said, like he didn’t see you breaking into pieces right in front of you.

“Calm down, you little skxawng!” It was a joke for him. For you it was your last piece of composure.

“You’re dumb! So dumb that you can’t even understand how much pain you give me! Every day I wish I don’t meet you so you won’t shower me with all your shit! Every night I cry myself to sleep because all your mean words you’ve said hurt me! And you don’t understand me, how can you be so mean?”

You were screaming at him and trying to hit, mental breakdown took over your senses. You could physically feel how your heart hurts and legs weaken. All sounds were heard as if from under the water, you didn’t see what’s going on around you. Someone’s holding your shoulders and pushing you to their chest to not let you fall on your knees.

“Don’t touch her!”

Furious voice sounded from afar. Neteyam. Your brother who always protects you, surrounds you with love you need. That’s why he calls you yawntutsyip. Little loved one.

You could feel your brother as he came closer to you. His steps were as heavy as his mood. When he saw you breaking down in front of this asshole and because of this asshole, he almost lost his temper. The way chief’s son was holding and looking at you, finally realizing that his actions have consequences. He had to drive you crazy to understand it.

“Back off! Now!”

He pushed Ao’nung as he got closer to him, taking off his hands off you. You didn’t realize it was him, who held you all this time. Was it long? Actually, everything happened in less than 2 minutes, but for you it was like an infinity.

“What happened?”

Lo’ak was here, he saw you crying in Kiri’s hands and Neteyam fighting with Ao’nung and his friends. He didn’t need to check on all details to punch Roxto and other guys.

“It’s fine, we’re here. Don’t worry.” Kiri was sitting with you and slowly swaying, while tapping your head to calm you down.

“I’m sorry, I…” that’s all you could say.

Neither you nor Kiri noticed how the fight stopped until Neteyam came closer and examined you. His eyebrow was cut so as his lower lip, but he didn’t care. Now he could feel only your pain.

“Yawntutsyip… my sister.”

“I’m sorry, Neteyam. I didn’t…” You were gasping for breath from crying, not being able to collect your thoughts.

“Shhh, that’s fine, you’re fine. We’re here, nobody will hurt you again.” Kiri gave you to Neteyam, he was calming you down repeating the same moves as Kiri did. You were crying, letting all pain, that was suppressed inside of your soul, to flow through you.

Your siblings knew that you need to feel it to let it go. That is the only way for relief.

“Let’s go home, yawntutsyip?” Neteyam’s voice was calming as always, he hated seeing you crying.

You just nodded in agreement, hiding your face in brother’s neck and holding him as if someone can take you from him in any moment.

Yes, most Na’vis are brave, ready to fight and protect their beloved ones. But you just can’t do it. You are the one who needs to be protected. Eywa created you that way and you can do nothing about it.

“Don’t ever come to our sisters, you little bitch! Are you so insecure that you’re afraid to battle with me and choose those who are weaker than you?” Lo’ak didn’t miss to say the last goodbye before following after all of you. He didn’t wait for the answer, he didn’t need it.

Ao’nung was standing up there and looking as your figures disappear. No words are in his mind, except for one.

“Fuck”

————————————————————————

I hope you liked it! I’m not sure if I’ll write the second part🫣 I have an idea but idk if it’s worth it, we’ll see!

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nyx-is-missing · 4 months

Note

Could u write one for clarisse where she's impressed with femR bc of how good she is at fighting and all and clarisse finds her incredibly attractive bc no one has challenged her the way R does?

And like a bit of pining until the two confess

Thank you!!

Breathtaking or taken

Clarisse la rue x fem!reader

Summary: when Clarisse finds a opponent worth of her, she is breathtaken.

Warnings: none really, just fluff, not a descriptive fight scene on sight cause mama dont know how to write that, so just fluff fluff, and mutual pining fluff

(Do i need to say its not proofread? No? Thank you)

Here is one of the main benefits of being a daughter of Athena, you'll know.

DIfferent from other gods, Athena will let your parent know it is her who they are talking to.

And if letting them know beforehand isnt enough, she will let them know when the baby is brought to them, and if your parent is smart enough to live up to her choice, you'll have time to learn a thing or two before being thrown into this world.

If your parent cares enough about you, you'll have time.

And sure as hell my mom cared.

Always the intelectual woman, historian, researcher, writter, my mom knew many things about ancient greece, she knew all the stories by heart, and she, of all people, knew what she needed to do, to preserve her only daughter, her sacred gift.

She teached me all i needed to learn without compromising myself, stories, languages, art...and fight.

Little girls my age were doing dance classes, were trying to be good enough for drama club, were playing tea party with their dolls or making a mess with their mom's make up.

Well...i.. i was doing martial arts, i was fencing, i had my face in a book every free time i got.

I always asked her about it, why was she so strict about never missing a fight leasson, her answer always made sense, there and now.

"The world is cruel, especially for little girls, someday i might not be all the time with you, someday, you'll fight your own battles, you need to be ready"

Every word, every single word is true.

And that is how i ended up here, in a arena of camp half blood, sparring with Clarisse, and winnig, by two points, yes, but winning.

It is clear nobody expected that from me, neither did she actually, i can see in her eyes.

Understandable, they expect Athena kids to be calm, find a solution, not fight her way out.

Honestly their looks dont bother me, i dont even think much of it, but Clarisse's looks, they got something more to them, like a kid who finally got the dog she really wanted.

"Aaand break time Clarrise, we'll continue this tomorrow, id like to enjoy the rest of my afternoon thank you"

I dropped the sword down and started to undo my armor while walking close to the exit.

"Wait wait wait, now? Already? C'mon i didnt even had time to figure out how do you do that... all of that"

She stood next to me, still holding her sword and honestly.. she was beautiful, yes she was sweaty now and yes she was mean to everyone but.. now...right now, she was beautiful, shining, in her element really, flushed cheeks and a smile she only had when with a sword in hand.

"I practice, ever since i was a kid, everyday, well expect in weekends but yeah, almost everyday... how do you do all that? You are good...-want some water?"

I offered her my bottle also motioning for her to walk with me, both wich she gladly accepted.

"I practice too...and i never said this to anyone but, you are good, great even, and look breathtaking"

We stop walking, we stop all actually.

"I look what, Clarisse?"

"Breathtaken- you look out of breath, do you want the water back?"

Ah.

Weeks later i found myself in the same scenario, sparring with Clarisse again, actually that is all i do when it comes to training, be with Clarisse

"C'mon curls, thats the best you've got? No need to go easy on me"

"Im not going easy, i already told you, you caught me distracted thats all- GIRL WIll YOU SUSH?"

She tried to block you with her sword, thankfully for her, a succeded attempt.

"How could i? You're so fun to mess with, gets all red n all"

"Oh you want to talk about getting red?"

In a moment i was on the floor, Clarisse on top of me, and i couldnt speak, all i could do was stare into her big brown eyes, who looked right into my soul.

"Cant speak anymore huh? Oh if you could see the red im seeing-"

Now this my ladies and gentlemen, this is what i call a shot of faith.

I raised my head a little and just..i kissed her, it was quick but I did it, and her face went blank.

"Now you are breathtaken Curls, how about that?"

"And you are still breathtaking"

Still?

Oh.

"You...like me Clarisse?"

"You didnt knew?"

Oh.

"....no..?"

"Would you walk away if i kissed you this time?"

"....no."

#fanfic #lesbian #clarisse pjo #pjo tv show #pjo series #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue

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barcaatthemoon · 2 months

Text

te amo || ona batlle x reader ||

ona gets something off of her chest.

you had not quite grown accustomed to what it meant for ona to be living with you again. there had been quite a bit of time from when you were in manchester together to your transfer to barcelona. once your girlfriend and your best friend both transferred to other teams, you decided that you didn't want to stay in manchester all alone.

barcelona didn't offer you a starting position in their lineup, but you were fine to work your way there. even just through the practices, you felt like you were playing the best football of your life. even some of your harder to impress national team coaches had commented on you being in top form at practice. everything was going great, except for the fact that you had a tendency to forget that wherever you were, ona tended to also be.

cooking had always felt like a sacred practice to you. there was a routine that you liked to follow for every meal you made yourself. it didn't have to be all strict or serious, however. if you were having a good time while you were cooking, you swore that the food tasted better.

"i think i like this little life," you sang to yourself as you moved around the kitchen. you continued on with the little song that had been stuck in your head for the past month. ona liked to tease you about all the time you spent on tiktok, whether that be making videos or watching them. however, you knew that you were doing the people a great service by showing them glimpses into your life at barcelona.

you had gotten so caught up in yourself and your song that you failed to notice ona coming into the kitchen. she quietly sat down at the island your back was facing. she watched as you moved around from one little station to the next. it was too much for her brain to wrap around, especially after the grueling practice the two of you had been through.

"shit! you scared me." you were clutching your chest as you tried to catch your break. ona's face fell as your song came to a stop. you were about to ask if she felt okay when ona spoke up instead.

"no, don't stop. i like the sound of your voice," ona told you. she gave you her best puppy dog eyes and pout, which worked almost instantly. you pressed play on your phone and continued to sing along to whatever songs came up that you knew the words to. ona stared at you dreamily, unable to take her eyes off of you.

"is everything okay?" you asked her. it wasn't like ona to sit there so quietly for so long. the woman was like a puppy, always full of energy and ready to race around whatever room she was in.

"te amo," ona said quietly. for a moment, you were pretty sure that you had misheard her. you had been around enough spanish speaking people to know that it held a higher meaning than just saying that she loved you. the words were impactful, and made to be even more so by the way that ona looked at you.

you had noticed it before, how she'd stare at you sometimes like you personally put the sun in the sky. it was weird to think that she loved you like that, but you were grateful for it. things hadn't always been so easy for the two of you, but now it was effortless to slot into each other's lives.

"can i say it back?" you asked her. ona perked up at it immediately. she moved from behind the island to where you were standing by the other counter. ona reached up to cup your cheeks and gently tugged your face down towards hers. she pressed a soft kiss to your lips. it managed to hold all of the love and passion she felt for you without becoming too raunchy or messy. "te amo."

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x reader

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wheresarizona · 1 year

Text

Creed

summary: Upon meeting Bo-Katan Kryze and discovering there are other Mandalorians out in the galaxy who remove their helmets, Din Djarin is suddenly questioning his beliefs and unable to stop from wondering what you, his wife, look like under your own helm.

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Soft Din Djarin, established relationship, age gap (10 years), alternating pov, unprotected p in v, creampie, BREEDING KINK, oral sex (f receiving), first kiss, dirty talk, praise kink, domestic fluff, fluff, removing helmets for the first time, religious guilt, did I mention breeding kink? Din being so in love he wants to break the Creed, good parent Din Djarin)

pairing: Din Djarin/f!Mandalorian reader (from the Tribe with zero physical descriptions)

word count: 6.2k

a/n: It’s called Creed, but Breed also works. Lmaooo @what-muses sent in the prompt for Din hearing reader singing to Grogu, and I am so insanely sorry for this not being super wholesome. I just know in my heart Din would hear the woman he loves singing to their kid, and he’d want more children. 😭😭😭 I legit wrote 95% of this while either sick or in the ER to make myself feel better. Takes place during season 2. Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul for betaing this.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to hear what you thought of it!

Masterlist

He knows his own face—the color of his eyes, the curve of his nose, the crease between his eyebrows, the patchy facial hair. He knows the shape of his lips, the dimple in his cheek, and the lines that show his age. He’s the only person who can take in all of these details and know they belong to him, something secret, sacred—the Way of the Mandalore means no other living being can see him without his helmet. It also means you’ve never seen his face, but that’s never been an issue since you also follow the Creed.

Staring at his reflection in the ‘fresher mirror, his naked body clean from the sonic shower, he slowly moves the razor over the skin of his cheek, wondering briefly what you look like under your purple helm.

Pausing, his eyebrows furrow, realizing the thought has never once crossed his mind—it wasn’t something he ever would have wondered before because it’s never been important. The two of you had your beliefs and followed them, not caring about what was beneath the beskar, all that mattered was you loved each other.

You’ve been together since he’d saved the kid from the Client, you leaving Nevarro with him, your relationship shifting as time went on—the two of you keeping the child safe and falling in love in the process.

Then on your quest to reunite the small boy with his kind, you’d met the other Mandalorians, discovering there were many out across the galaxy who didn’t follow the Creed or the ways of old. They believed you could be a Mandalorian and remove your helmet and that your tribe was a cult.

Continuing shaving, he rinses the razor blade under water before sliding it along his other cheek. A lot of people preferred using depil cream to remove their facial hair, but Din liked the precision of the razor over the viscous liquid.

It was overwhelming hearing all that Bo-Katan had said and having this new knowledge, making him wonder what it truly meant to be a Mandalorian.

Could he really put the helmet back on once he took it off in front of another?

With the location of a Jedi and your time with your foundling running out, it was important he was present to witness your union, both knowing you were going to spend the rest of your days together by each other’s sides. Din and you exchanged your vows, committing to one another for life in the cockpit of the Razor Crest with your child in attendance and the bright streaking stars of hyperspace flying by.

His face is mostly shaved, leaving hair on his chin and above his lips, now using a small pair of scissors to trim his mustache.

It doesn’t matter to him that no one else gets to see how he looks. He’s still particular in how he likes his facial hair, unable to stand too much of it under his helmet, keeping the hair on his head cropped short for comfort.

It makes him wonder if you have preferences as he shapes his mustache.

How long is your hair? What color is it? What color are your eyes? What does your smile look like? What will your children look like?

His hand stops, his eyes widening.

Gulping hard, that’s another thought that’s never crossed his mind. He knows you’re going to have children together. It’s something you’ve discussed, but not once has he thought of their looks. Things like that didn’t matter to Mandalorians, who spend their lives covered head to toe in armor. He wonders if he’d be able to pick out the pieces of you in them to get a glimpse of what the woman he loves looks like—he wants to know.

Why is he stuck on this?

It’s not the Way.

Din sighs, finishing what he’s doing.

The scissors get put back into his shaving kit, cleaning the sink of his hair clippings, happy you got a room at the inn here on Nevarro while the Crest is being repaired. The two of you are planning to help Greef and Cara with a small matter in the morning in exchange for the ship's repairs.

Once he’s done, the stuff shoved into his bag, Din pulls out clean clothes to change into for the night, settling for some cloth pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Putting his helmet on, he gathers his bag and flight suit, the rest of his armor out in the room you’re in with the kid, stacked neatly beside your own.

Greef was the one who provided the accommodations, Din assuming it’d be a basic room—a bed, a refresher, the necessities. That wasn’t good enough for the magistrate, though. Instead, he’d set you up in a one-bedroom suite with a sitting room and a tiny kitchen.

Making his way out of the ‘fresher and bedroom, he stops in his tracks at what he hears.

You’re sitting at the small dining table, the kid in the seat beside you happily accepting the food he’s passed, which was a common occurrence, it’s the song you’re singing that has Din so caught off guard.

He’s heard you hum a lot—tunes were always getting stuck in your head that you picked up in cantinas or buskers on the street. You’ve sung before, too, but you were trying to make him and the kid laugh with your boisterous renditions of Mandalorian drinking songs.

This is different.

It’s not loud—it’s soft, sweet, the Mando’a flowing from your lips like a soft caress, hearing your love for the child with every syllable sung. This is a song mothers sang to their children, having heard such a thing back at the covert, about Mandalore the Great taming his mythical mythosaur and the strength all Mandalorians had.

There’s a helmet on your head, and he can’t help imagining what your face looks like under the t-visor. He can hear your love, would he be able to see it, too? There’s a smile in your voice, and it makes his chest squeeze at how he wishes he could look upon it.

Din knows you, and you know him.

He knows your likes and dislikes, your deepest, darkest secrets—everything about you, Din has learned and loves.

And now he wants more of you to love—he wants all of you, wants to see all of you.

You’re a wonderful mother, the kid so happy with you, taking him in like he’s your own flesh and blood, and something inside Din is screaming that you need more children—he needs to give you that, more little ones to love, and sing to, as many as you want, the thought of you pregnant with his child making his skin heat.

Stars, you’d be even more beautiful round with his baby.

He swallows hard, his pants feeling a little tight.

He knows everything about you, he loves everything about you, and guilt has settled like a stone in his stomach that he suddenly can’t get his mind off what’s under the beskar on your head.

The singing stops when you notice him, your t-visor trained on his prone form, standing just inside the room.

“Hey!” you say, handing the child more food. “It’s dinner time—ordered food while you were in the ‘fresher. Got you something I know you’ll like.”

It takes him from his reverie, finally moving again to set his bag near the table by the couch, the shining pieces of both of your armor on top of it. He tosses his flight suit onto the sofa over his cape, walking over to where you and the kid are.

He’s behind your chair, rubbing his hands over your arms as he replies, “Thank you, my love.” Leaning down to gently knock his helmet against yours in the semblance of a kiss before moving around the table to take a seat.

What would your lips feel like on his?

He has to shake the question from his brain, clearing his throat, and opening the food container in front of him.

It makes him smile when he sees you did get him something he’d like—skewers of meat and vegetables.

Picking one up, he uses the fork beside him to push off the chunks into the container, discarding the skewer and using his free hand to lift his helmet up just enough to take a bite. He groans happily at the spices enveloping his tongue, chewing and swallowing.

“Good?” you ask, beginning to eat your own dinner the same way he was.

In the company of other Mandalorians, it was generally protocol to go off and eat alone, but you’d been traveling in the tight confines of the Crest for so long that barely lifting the helmet was an acceptable compromise, avoiding looking at each other as you did it.

“Really good,” he replies, shoving more into his mouth.

The kid coos contently, full from his meal, while you both enjoy your own, sharing snippets of conversation between bites.

By the time you’re both finished, the little one is falling asleep in his chair, and helmets are once again covering your faces.

“I’ll put him to bed,” you softly say, starting to get up from your chair.

“The couch,” he says a little too quickly.

“The couch?” Your tone is teasing. “Got plans since we have a bed this evening, my dear husband?”

“Maybe I do.”

“In that case, the couch it is,” you reply, disappearing into the bedroom and returning with a pillow and blanket that you put onto the sofa, coming back over to the table to take the child.

Din busies himself cleaning up the trash and finds himself stuck in place when he’s done as he watches you sitting next to the kid, stroking his big ears while softly singing an old lullaby.

That need comes crashing into him again, the one telling him to give you a baby. It’s loud, something primal that he feels deep down that won’t be satisfied until he’s buried himself inside your cunt and pumps you full of his seed.

Arousal is burning in his gut, his cock stirring, eyes locked on your downturned helm and the curve of your breasts under your shirt.

He wants to strip you bare and feel your skin, batting away the intrusive thought of getting your helmet off—his, too, in order to lick and suck what he wants to touch.

He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realize you’ve gotten up until you’re whispering by the bedroom door, “You coming?”

His bare feet move quickly, following you into the other room. Once the door is shut and the lock engaged, he’s crowding into you, needing to get his hands on your body, rubbing them over your soft belly and up to cup your breasts.

“You’re in a mood,” you giggle, Din’s hands roaming all over your body, your front, back, down to grab your ass.

“Need you,” he grunts.

Sliding your hands down his chest, you move lower to palm his half-hard dick in his pants, feeling it twitch under your touch.

“Yeah, you do.”

His eagerness is turning you on, wishing you could kiss him.

That makes you frown.

Over a year together and never once have you thought of kissing Din or seeing him without his helmet, for that matter, and yet, for days now, these things have been popping up in your brain. Kept you wondering what he looks like, or the face he was making in a moment or how soft his lips were, or the color of his eyes—plagued by thoughts that went against how you were raised and what you believed, clear violations of the Creed you swore to live your life by.

It’s never been an issue, always a fact that the helmet stayed on in front of another, and then you met Bo-Katan, and now you were at constant war with your own mind, feeling like it was an enemy you couldn’t vanquish in battle.

There are other Mandalorians out there, who even wish to reclaim Mandalore, and they believe you can remove your helm in the presence of another—Bo-Katan’s own armor had been passed down for three generations.

What if it was okay to remove it?

Would Din want to?

Would he still love you?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, taking you from your thoughts.

His hands are now caressing the sides of your helmet, a little intrusive thought in the back of your mind wishing he’d take it off.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “Just… thinking.”

“About what?”

“Stuff…”

His head tilts in confusion.

“Tell me.”

That’s the thing about Din, he’s your best friend, your husband, you can tell him anything, which is why you tell him the truth.

“Bo-Katan and the others, they are Mandalorians and remove their helmets.”

“Yes, they do not follow the Creed.”

“Do you believe they are Mandalorians?”

“Do you?”

“Bo-Katan was born on Mandalore. She fought in the Great Purge. I do believe they are Mandalorians.”

“As do I.”

“You do?”

“I do.” He nodded.

“Din, we grew up believing in the Way of the Mandalore—it’s all we’ve known. We went through the same ceremony, we swore to walk the Way and never remove our helmets, but I—” Your hands go up to cradle where his cheeks would be “—can’t stop thinking about what you look like, and I feel ashamed because I know it’s wrong.”

“It’s not wrong.” He sounds hopeful. “I feel the same and want to see your face, too.”

That has you taken aback.

“You do…?”

“I do.” He nods.

“But will you still love me…?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

“Of course. I love you for you and not for what’s underneath the beskar.”

“That’s a lie. You’re obsessed with my body.”

He chuckles, “I am because I love you and would continue loving you even if it changed…” he trails off like he’s thinking about something “I. Love. You.” he adds, saying each word clearly.

“Promise?”

Pressing a hand over his heart, he answers, “On my life.”

“Okay, I believe you.”

“Will you still love me…?” The question comes out slowly.

“We literally just had a conversation over how you love me for me, and you have to know I feel the same way.”

“Just making sure.” You can hear his smile.

“So, would you like to break the Creed with me…?”

Your heart is hammering in your chest.

“More than you know.”

Relief washes over you, combined with giddiness.

“Thank the Stars!” you exclaim happily.

“At the same time?” He’s as eager as you are, his hands moving back to hold your helmet again.

“Yes.”

Gripping his, you both count down together, “Three, two, one…” Carefully, you lift his beskar, your own coming off, blinking at the light in the room, and your eyes zeroing in on the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, your mouth falling open in shock.

A person’s looks have never meant much to you, thinking some were pleasing to the eye, you finding someone’s prowess in battle more attractive along with their personality.

Din is a formidable opponent, always succeeding in his endeavors because he is highly intelligent, strong, and knows how to fight and use a weapon.

Even though many fear your husband, he’s actually a very sweet man, caring, loving, and will protect you and your foundling with his life.

And now you know he is also unbelievably attractive.

Beautiful chocolate eyes are rounded as they stare at you, the look on his face a twin of your own, loving his nose, and the messy brown hair on top of his head, seeing that he recently shaved with his facial hair looking neat, taking in every detail and line of the man you love.

“Beautiful,” he whispers in awe, and it has tears brimming in your eyes, bending down to set his helmet on the ground, him doing the same with yours, your hands moving to touch his face when you both straighten.

He’s so gentle when his broad palms caress your cheeks, almost like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Smiling, you reply, “You’re very handsome yourself.” You reach up to smooth your thumbs over his eyebrows. “Your eyes are stunning. I hope our child gets them.”

His lips tip up, and Stars, they’re so plush, you can’t help yourself when you lean in to press your own against his, him making a surprised sound.

Your heart picks up in speed, having wondered what it would be like to kiss him, and at first, it’s soft; the warmth spreading under your skin, meaning to only give him a peck, but then he’s pulling you closer, kissing you a little harder. It’s lingering, his lips moving against yours in tiny movements that have fire burning brightly in your veins, following his lead to mimic what he was doing again and again and again.

It’s not like either of you has any experience with this type of thing, so you’re figuring it out as you go, doing what feels good, getting braver and more comfortable. Your fingers slide into the thick strands of his hair, moaning when his tongue slides over your bottom lip, instinctively opening for him. This was somehow better, more intimate, tasting each other, exploring the other’s mouths until the need to breathe became too much, and you’re separating with smiles on your faces, Din’s lips red and shiny from spit.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, and it makes you feel all gooey.

“You’re very handsome.”

You stroke your fingers over his cheeks, his hands on your jaw, rubbing a thumb over your wet bottom lip.

It’s like you both can’t stop yourselves from staring, eyes taking in every little detail of the other's face, saving them to memory.

The need rises, and you’re kissing once more, it’s messy before you’re both moving to get your clothes off as quickly as possible—once stripped, Din’s mouth is on yours as he walks you back toward the bed, falling with you on top of it.

His hips are slotted between your thighs, his lips detaching from yours to kiss along your jaw, over your cheeks, up on your forehead, and the tip of your nose.

It makes you smile, him kissing all over your face, then to your ear, shoving his nose in your hair, and inhaling.

“Fuck, you smell amazing,” he says.

That makes you laugh.

“Thanks, but we use the same stuff—we smell the same.”

“No.” He nips at your ear, sucking it into his mouth, gasping at the jolts of pleasure shooting to your center. “You smell better.”

You press your fingers into his hair.

“Stars,” you moan, his lips trailing down your neck and sucking hard on your pulse point. “It feels so good, Din.”

His mouth is so warm, leaving your skin wet in the wake of his kisses, and he can’t seem to get enough, lips streaking across every bit of you as he travels down your body. His mouth engulfs your stiff nipple, making your back arch, gasping his name.

Arousal is hot in your belly, the feeling incredible as he laves at one hard bud, then the other, your head feeling dizzy while soft sounds spill from your lips.

He comes off your nipple with a pop, continuing his journey lower, kissing over your belly until he’s half off the bed, his big hands spreading your thighs.

There’s a look of hunger on his face as he stares at the apex of your thighs, his fingers moving to spread open the lips of your sex, seeing the pink of his tongue peek out to swipe across his bottom lip like he wants to taste you. The look has excitement thrumming in your veins, wanting nothing more than to know what it feels like to have his mouth on you.

“Taste it,” you purr, and his eyes meet yours, his so dark barely any of the beautiful brown remains. “I know you’ve licked me from your fingers.” You’ve seen him on more than one occasion lift his helmet just enough to suck your arousal from digits after they’d been inside you. “Taste it—I want your tongue.” You bit your lip between your teeth.

“Fuck,” he rasps, wasting no time dipping his head forward, licking a stripe through your slit, the flat of his tongue going from your entrance to your clit. He’s groaning into your sensitive flesh as you moan at how good it feels, him laving at every bit of slick he can find, your back arching when he pushes the wet muscle inside you.

“You taste so good.” His words are muffled in your cunt, his mouth moving up, making your toes curl when he sucks on your bundle of nerves.

Even though this isn’t an act either of you has ever done before, Din is a quick learner, knowing intimately what makes you tick—once he has his fill of your taste, he slides two thick fingers inside you, crooking them into that spot he always zeros in on, your vision going white for a second at the shock of pleasure.

“Din,” you moan, threading your fingers into his brown waves for something to hold onto.

The muscles in your belly are beginning to tighten, the heat in the base of your spine growing.

His big brown eyes lock on yours from between your legs, seeing your arousal glistening in his mustache and on his plush lips.

“Wanna taste your come,” he husks, his fingers continuing to work. “Can you come for me? Please?”

This might be his first time, but that big brain of his has quickly worked out how to get what he wants, keeping his gaze on yours while pulling your perky little clit into his mouth, sucking on it while his fingers slide along something divine, rocketing you toward your release.

Your hands tighten in his hair at the pleasurable fire building in your core, feeling it getting hotter and hotter as he works you over, having to bite your fingers to muffle your noises when euphoria explodes inside you, quieting your whine of his name.

“That’s it, beautiful,” he says into your pussy. “My good girl—such a good girl.”

His fingers leave you, replaced with his tongue, hearing and feeling him loudly groan as he indulges in your come, drinking it down from the source.

Your chest is heaving, breathing hard as you come down, your husband having the best time with his mouth on your cunt if the noises are anything to go by.

He got to explore your body, and it’s your turn, salivating at the thought.

Tugging on his hair, you say, “Din?”

His head comes up, looking a little lost with glazed-over eyes, the bottom half of his face shining in the light of the room.

All he can do is grunt in response.

“Get up on the bed and lay down on your back, please.”

His face pinches in confusion.

“What?” he whispers.

You smile. He seems almost drunk, a state you’ve never seen him in since he doesn’t like anything inhibiting his mind or body.

“Get up here, my love—” You pat the bed beside you. “—and lay down on your back. It’s my turn.”

It registers what you say, and he nods, doing as he’s told and crawling up onto the mattress and flopping down next to you with his head resting back on a pillow. Rolling over, you throw your leg over his waist, moving to straddle his hips, your wet center pressing his hard cock into his stomach. You rub your hands up his soft belly and over his chest, seeing the faded scars on his golden skin.

“You’re beautiful,” you say.

His cheeks pink at the comment.

“Thank… you…” he replies, his hands grabbing your waist, smoothing his thumbs over your skin. “You’re more beautiful than the Diathim.”

Your eyebrow raises. “You’re saying I’m prettier than an angel?”

“Songs should be sung of your beauty—there’s nothing that compares in the entire galaxy.” He says it with such conviction your breath hitches, taken aback by the look on his face telling you he means it.

“We should get married,” you blurt out.

“What…?”

“I want to marry you again and see your face when we say our vows.”

You’re fascinated by how you can see him visibly soften, his mouth turning up in a grin that reveals an adorable dimple, reaching his hand to cup your cheek.

“Will you marry me again?” he asks.

You’re matching his look, nodding as you say, “Yes!” Unable to keep yourself from leaning down to press your mouth to his, moaning when you taste yourself in the passionate kiss. His arms wrap around your back, hugging you close to him, losing yourselves for a minute in your happiness.

You’re panting when you break apart.

You’d wanted to take your time getting your mouth all over his body, but there’s a sudden need to have him inside of you—sitting up on your knees, you snake your hand between your bodies to take his cock in hand, pressing it to your aching entrance.

You moan in unison as you lower yourself on him, watching his face as his mouth falls open, his hands grabbing onto your hips, the thick girth of him stretching you open and filling you inch by glorious inch until your thighs meet, feeling so unbelievably full.

“Stars, you feel so good,” you breathe.

“Not as good as you feel.” His words come out strained, watching his throat work as he swallows hard.

You do an experimental roll of your hips, making his fingers tighten in your skin.

His eyes are on yours. “I want to see you come while I’m inside you,” he husks. “Can you do that? Can you use me to make yourself feel good?”

“Yes,” you answer, starting to move up and down, your hands on his chest for leverage.

You love having him inside you—the way he fits so perfectly, rubbing against all the right spots, joining you together.

His hands are on your body while you ride him, rubbing along your ribs and over your stomach, moving up to palm the weight of your breasts, tweaking your nipples, sending jolts straight to your pussy.

“Ride my cock, pretty girl,” Din says in a low rasp. “I love watching you—so beautiful. Use me.”

Adjusting your hips has him sliding into that sacred place that makes your head spin, rising and falling at a pace that’s slowly building you up and up.

Arousal is dripping out of you and down his shaft, allowing you to move with ease, Din’s eyes locked on your face, groans spilling from his throat, looking wrecked at you bouncing on him.

His cock is hot and hard inside you, lifting your hips and slamming your ass down, working yourself closer to your end.

It’s exhilarating to be able to see how good he feels and how much he’s enjoying himself. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes lust-blown, his forehead glistening with sweat.

“I know you’re almost there.” His words come out rough. “You gonna come for me? Gonna be my good girl? I know you can do it. Wanna watch you—wanna see you come, my love.”

“So close,” you pant.

You’re rising and falling, moans slipping from your lips, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter until it’s snapping, and you’re coming with a gasp of his name. Your eyes close as pleasure expands from your center, spreading through your body.

“So beautiful,” Din marvels in a groan. “Such a good girl. I love you—I love watching you.”

“I love you, too,” you breathe, your orgasm beginning to ebb.

A surprised sound comes from you when suddenly you’re jostled, Din groaning as he sits up, keeping you on him as he gets situated with you in his lap, spreading his legs on the bed for balance.

You’re now face to face, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his lips find yours, kissing you tenderly, his other arm wrapped around your back to hug you to him. You thread your fingers in his hair, melting into him, accepting his tongue when he deepens the kiss.

You’ve found you love kissing. There was something about it that was so intimate—sharing breaths, being so close, and tasting him.

His hair is so soft and thick, scratching your nails gently along his scalp and feeling him shiver beneath you.

His hands go to your ass, gripping it tight while he starts moving you in his lap, his lips still on yours.

“Want you close,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Need you close.”

You bounce up and down on his throbbing cock, your knees on either side of his hips helping you rise and fall, fucking yourself on him as you keep kissing.

His words are muffled against your lips, “You’re so beautiful, strong, fierce, loving, and good with the kid.” He moves you faster, using his strength to lift you, grunting in exertion. “I watched you tonight with him—I want more little ones.”

The thought makes you clench around him.

“Din,” you moan, feeling him smile.

“I want to raise more warriors with you,” he continues. “I want to father your children. I want to fuck a baby into you,” he groans, his cock twitching. You can tell he’s getting close as you breathe hard, your thighs burning deliciously. “I want to fill you up, fuck you full of me over and over until it takes.” His words have arousal curling in your gut and the familiar heat building at the base of your spine, bouncing up and down in his lap. “I want to see you round with my child. I want to have as many as you’ll allow. I want to fill the ship, then a house with our kids. I want to see you mother more of my children and sing them the songs of old. I want you, all of you.”

It all sounds so good, wanting the same, gasping, “Yes.”

“Can I?” he asks in a wrecked tone. “Can I fuck a baby into you? Can I get you pregnant? Please. Please, can I father your child?”

“Stars, yes,” you moan. “Please. I want one. Fill me up—keep me full.”

He groans loudly, kissing you hard, making you gasp in surprise when he tackles you onto your back on the mattress, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, holding himself up on his forearms beside your head.

He starts moving fast, fucking into you with abandon to chase his high. The wet slap of skin on skin is sounding in the room, along with his grunts muffled by your mouth, filling you over and over, his thick cock pushing in so deep he’s kissing your womb.

You grab onto his broad shoulders, needing something to hang onto, digging your nails into his golden skin. The kisses are sloppy, the tension rising in your belly. His pace gets uneven until he pushes in one last time, going as deep as he can, coming with a ragged groan. You can feel him jerk inside you and the wet pulse as warmth fills your depths. He rocks his hips, moving a hand between your bodies to circle your clit, already so worked up that it doesn’t take much to have you cresting softly with a moan of his name. Your body tenses up, Din grunting as your cunt chokes his dick, working his spend even deeper inside you.

“That’s it,” he groans. “So good to me, my good girl.”

You’re both panting, and he moves his head to the crook of your neck, collapsing on top of you.

It makes you smile when you press your fingers into his sweat-damp hair; how soothing it is to just run your fingers through the brown waves and lightly scratch at his scalp, Din practically purring.

“That’s so nice.” He slurs.

“I like It, too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It’s comfortable as you both lie there, not caring about your sweaty bodies or his weight on you, just basking in the afterglow together.

It feels like you’re so close, neither of you would know where one ends and the other begins—so tangled up in each other it feels as though you’re one—one body, one heart, one soul.

Minutes pass in silence, Din groaning as he moves to get up, kneeling between your spread legs. His eyes are locked on where you’re connected, hissing when he pulls himself out of you. Your eyes widen when his fingers catch some of his come that’s dripped out of you, moaning when he pushes it back inside.

“Don’t want to waste a drop,” he says. “Can you keep it inside, my love?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

He smiles.

“Thank you.”

His hand leaves you watching in interest as he pushes the digits between his lips, sucking them clean with a groan. They leave his mouth with a pop, his gaze on yours.

“I’ll never tire of how good you taste.” He says.

“I feel like you’re going to be insatiable.” You tease.

He smiles, and you love it so much that you wish to see it every day for the rest of your life.

“I’m already insatiable.”

“Yes, you are.” You reply with the same look on your face.

Quickly he’s off the bed and coming back with a warm wet cloth, gently wiping you down and cleaning himself up, it getting tossed to the floor when he’s done.

He pulls you to lay correctly on the bed in his arms with your heads cushioned by pillows, facing him.

The lights are still on, and you just stare into each other's eyes, losing yourself in his dark pools, him smiling softly under his mustache.

“I’m so happy to know your face,” he whispers, his big hand sliding along your cheek. “I love you.”

“I’m happy to know your face, too,” you say just as softly. “The face of the man I love, who will father my children.”

He smiles brightly, his eyes crinkling adorably at the edges, leaning in to kiss you.

There’s light banging heard at the door that can only be made by tiny fists, Din and you separating immediately with wide eyes.

“Were we too loud?” You whisper.

Din grimaces, answering, “Maybe?”

You’re both moving immediately, jumping out of bed and tugging on your clothes, the air in the room tinged with sex. At least the kid chose to wake up after you’d finished. It was always incredibly awkward when he interrupted during.

The two of you look disheveled, Din’s hair a mess on top of his head, and his cheeks tinted pink.

“Go wash your hands and face,” you tell him. “I’ll get him.” Neither of you bothered putting on your helmets, your husband heading for the en suite, while you made it to the door, disengaging the lock and opening it.

You’re smiling as you look down at the child, him staring up at you with a weird look on his face.

“Hey, buddy,” you say, and his eyes get big, him babbling something pointing at your head. It makes you laugh. “It’s okay,” you reassure, leaning down to pick him up. He’s staring at you, his big eyes somehow bigger. “This is what I look like under the helmet.” His little clawed hand reaches out, pressing it to your cheek as he coos, and it warms your heart.

“Hey, you little womp rat,” Din’s warm voice says as he enters the room, you turning so the kid can see him. The child is babbling up a storm, holding his arms out, and Din chuckles, taking him as soon as he’s within reach. “Did we wake you up?” he asks. “We were just, uh, sparring, yeah, we were sparring, there’s nothing you need to worry about.” The kid is looking at him in wonder, reaching to touch Din’s cheek, the man smiling. “Yeah, I’m not wearing my helmet.” The child looks at you and back at Din, chattering up a storm.

“I think he’s confused.” You tell your husband.

“Yeah, I think he is.” His attention goes back to the kid in his arms, rubbing his back, speaking in a soft tone, “Hey, it’s okay, buddy.” The child goes silent as he listens. “There, uh, were those other Mandalorians who took off their helmets, and we decided to do the same. Everything’s okay. It’s still us.” He’s cooing again, patting Din’s cheek, making his dad chuckle. “It’s my face.” The kid yawns. “You ready to go back to bed?”

You’re already moving toward the mattress, taking off the top blanket, tossing it onto the floor, and pulling back the sheets.

Din walks over and gets in on the other side while still holding the child.

The boy ends up on Din’s chest, his tiny hand reaching up to rub the man’s earlobe while softly babbling—you crawl in next to your husband, resting your head on his shoulder, the lights turned off.

You’re beyond happy to know what the man you love looks like, and you can’t wait to add to your little family, rubbing a hand over your belly.

Your period is almost a month late, and you have a feeling it has nothing to do with stress.

Din was going to be ecstatic.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

Tagging: @theorganasolo @tiredbuthappy @mandowhatnow @myloveistoolittle @perksofbeingamultifandomm @eddiemunscns @deliriousfangirl61 @fandomandotherthings @myswficlist @aaetherr69 @swimmjacket @ins0mniac-whack @rintheemolion @notsosecretspy @ghostyoongs @freightcarcap @untitledarea @whitemanshoe19 @tmiranda94 @fleetsonfire @daddydindjarin @absurdthirst @kirsteng42 @littlemisspascal @athalien @thevoiceinyourheadx @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @girlofchaos @mswarriorbabe80 @star017 @artsymaddie @hansolosleftbuttcheek @deadhumourist @pretty-brown-eyess @hotchlover @eternallyvenus @allfoolsinluv @eppy816 @katareyoudrilling @babykangaemoji @punkerthanpascal @breezythesimp @grimeysociety @bruxasolta @peachyaeger @din-jarhead @lovesbiggerthanpride

#pedro pascal #Din djarin #Din djarin/reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian/reader #din djarin fanfiction #wheresarizona writes

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weird-is-life · 3 months

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helloo! okay this might be a long request so buckle up. idea for spencer based off of my day; let it be know that i relate to spence, even if I have a "low" iq, what i mean is, I ramble. and watching people shut down spencer when he's about to rant always made me sad (obviously). but i realized it's because that happens to me. I'm a very geeky person so i get passionate and i understand why people would shut me down (still hurts tho). but today one of my friends asked a question it was about simpler animals and what the difference was. me loving animals and knowing the answer, well I spoke up but immediately got talked over about something not relevant. my real idea is, what if spencer had someone that rambled with him and appreciated his rants. like i think it'd be cute and they don't have to rant about the same thing, just both like in the corner talking absurdly fast together. and the team probably rolling their eyes. maybe??? (sorry if it was to personal) hope you have a great dayyy!!

Hiii lovely, ty for the request💕!! Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, like one pet name (0.6k)

Sometimes Hotch kind of regrets hiring you (not really, you're a great addition to the team and everybody loves you), but when he sees you and Spencer together, the thought crosses his mind.

What he really does regret, is putting your desk and Spencer's desk next to each other. Big, big, big mistake.

You and Spencer are hunched over something at your desk, talking very quickly, as you two often do. Hotch finds your conversations, against his better judgement, cute. But not when he's trying to start a meeting and you two can't seem to notice.

He and the team see this on a regular basis, it's nothing new, that you and Spencer talk and talk about something, anything, completely in your own world.

Your conversations are still the same just like the first time, you and Spencer met. Maybe they got even worse. You two can ramble on and on for hours like it's nothing.

And you love it. You love talking to Spencer. The topic of your conversation is never a problem, you can talk about anything and nothing at the same time.

Just the fact, that you can talk to each other without being talked over, interrupted or hushed down is everything to you and to him.

Spencer feels the same. He loves talking to you. Your sweet, sweet voice makes it even better. He loves even just listening to you talk, it's maybe his favourite thing in the world.

Especially, when you two talk about the most silly, random stuff, while lying in the bed late at night. Chuckling and rambling without a care in the world. Maybe he loves it so much, because the team doesn't know about it. It's like something sacred between just you and him.

That's definitely his happy place, just you two having a quiet conversations with sleepy voices.

"Spence, have you read this book before?" you ask, pointing at the book lying on your desk.

"Oh," Spencer's face lights up with recognition," I have. It's really good, right?"

"I don't know, I haven't started it yet. I want to, but I can't bring myself to read it after a day full of work," you say to Spencer.

"I-I could read it to you?" he hesitantly offers.

"Spence, it's almost 800 pages long...." you chuckle at his offer.

"I don't mind," he quickly responds.

You think about it, but not for too long. You don't really need convincing, not when it comes to Spencer.

"Well, okay then. But only if you really want to," you give him a smile.

"I want to," he reassures you," and i do have some suggestions...."

"Like what?"

"Like books, that are similar to this. If you like this one, I could lend them to you-" Spencer's fast rambling gets interrupted, but not by you, never by you.

"Yo, lovebirds, we'd be very happy to let you talk about whatever nonsense you're talking about, but we all want to have this meeting over with. So if you'd be so kind to join us, that'd be nice," Derek basically yells at you from the conference room's doorway, making everybody in the room look at you and Spencer.

Your cheeks go a bit pink at Derek's words, you haven't realised that they were waiting on you and Spencer.

"Relax Derek, we're coming," Spencer says back loudly, " come on sweetheart, let's go there before they get mad at us," Spencer tells you, rolling his eyes over Derek's words.

"We'll talk about the book more later, yeah?" Spencer promises.

"Later?"

"I could come over tonight?" Spencer unsurely proposes.

"That'd be great, I'd love that," you'd never pass an opportunity to spend time with Spencer and getting to listen to him talk.

Somebody would maybe find reading to each other boring, but you and Spencer would never. It's like your love language.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid

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jeongheart · 1 year

Text

touch

summary: 'physical touch refers to expressing and receiving affection through touch, physical closeness, and other forms of physical connection'.

w.c: 1.4k.

tags: strangers to friends to lovers (kinda?), mutual pining, fluff.

a.n: i'm soft, this was inspired by that video of jeongin bumping into jisung lol. my first innie work aaa i'm so happy that i finished it, i'm so proud of this one too.

as always, english is not my first language so sorry in advance for any mistakes, leave your thoughts if you like! it means a lot.

Jeongin doesn't like to be touched.

He strongly believes that his personal space is sacred, and he can't understand the people who require physical contact 24/7.

It's no secret to anyone that he dislikes (physical) displays of affection, not that he doesn't have them with the people he loves, he prefers to let them know that he loves them with a special gift on their birthday or by buying them something that reminds him of that person.

He especially hates hugs. He feels trapped by the other person, and despite the fact that in the 22 years of his life he repeated it a thousand times, his family and friends don't seem to get the hint.

He doesn't want to be surly, really. It's something that has been like that since he can remember.

Jeongin doesn't like to be touched.

Except if that someone is you.

It's funny actually, you'd met casually, the way people met before: in real life. The first day of college was tough, everything and everyone was new and having to get used to a "grown-up" routine all of a sudden was something that took time.

He remembers the time exactly: 07:20 am. It was the first of the day, he was sitting in front of the class, he had a bad habit of being easily distracted, so he had to force himself to overcome his shame and desire to sleep to be in front of the blackboard.

The class started at 07:30, and the room was almost full. The professor arrived less than a minute ago and Jeongin was glad to be alone and in peace. His notebook lay open in front of him, the pages white and spotless.

Until you arrived, late.

You came running, it was obvious that you'd fallen asleep. Your hair was somewhat messy, probably due to the wind and the run you made through the building, your face was red (from embarrassment and exertion), but a smile was present on your face.

The professor looked at you funny and with a gesture of her hand she asked you to come in and take a seat somewhere free.

The only one was next to Jeongin.

Your eyes lit up at the sight of the empty chair, and even though you couldn't see it, Jeongin rolled his eyes as he saw you approaching the table.

With the woman summarizing her presentation, you arranged your things on the table (everything was in pastel colors, the blonde noticed) and you looked at him expectantly with that smile still on your face.

He could tell you were alone, actually, you were the only two who were. All your other classmates knew each other. So your attempt to start a conversation with him was logical, you also realized that he was alone.

"It looks like we'll be buddies" You smiled again and then told him your name while you extended your hand in an attempt to shake his, a very old gesture and not funny at all according to Jeongin.

He played dumb, but he told you his name. And then he said nothing more, watching out of the corner of his eye as you slowly lower your hand to rest it on your lap.

The weeks passed like this, you had a clear love language and unfortunately it was the one that Jeongin hated the most. You were always trying to touch him, not in a wicked or weird way, just friendly since that's how you showed affection. You were friends, but he couldn't tell you 'stop doing that' every time you reached out to touch his shoulder to get his attention.

You annoyed him every time you did that, but he couldn't deny that when you weren't getting clingy he appreciated your company. You were a comfortable presence in his life most of the time, and he liked not being alone in an unfamiliar environment where everyone greeted each other and ate together every day.

The first part of the academic year ended in the blink of an eye and the relationship between the two of you was only growing.

Jeongin didn't know when he let you touch his arm for the first time, he thinks it was in the library when you were studying for an exam.

He was nervous as he couldn't memorize anything and you, ever so nice, reached out your hand in an attempt to comfort him to rest it on Jeongin's left arm which was sprawled on top of the book he was trying to read.

Jeongin hadn't noticed that he hadn't tensed like the other times and he just kept reading and rereading the same sentences while the heat rose to your cheeks.

You didn't know what changed, but the fact that the boy who moved away every time you got at least 5 cm closer than normal had finally relaxed around you had butterflies flying in your stomach.

The months unfolded normal after that, and Jeongin would let you into his bubble of personal space more and more often.

He definitely hadn't realized how much he liked to feel your warm hands on his when he needed to calm down before a presentation or how his heart would jump in his chest when he saw you smile after you hugged him goodbye when he dropped you at your house after college.

"I like you a lot, Innie" You told him after the second exam.

Another final exam ended, and with it, the end of the year was drawing near. Jeongin was going to a vacation with his family in Busan and you definitely couldn't go weeks and weeks without seeing him, or his dimples or hearing his laugh and you would never forgive yourself if you didn't tell him everything that was on your mind every time you were together.

Jeongin looked like a statue, his mouth was opening and closing in an attempt to find the right words. His mind had short-circuited and it seemed that he had lost all ability to form a coherent sentence.

The snow was falling around the two of you, the heartless winter wrapped you from head to toe and as the minutes passed without an answer, your heart raced more and more and if Jeongin paid enough attention he could see how your eyes began to water as you overthought your sudden confession.

Maybe he didn't feel the same way, and you were making a fool of yourself. You began to prepare the speech of 'sorry, I shouldn't have said anything' to save your heart from the impending rejection and to be able to escape from that situation as quickly as possible.

Until Jeongin moved, he took two short steps until he was face to face to you. He was a head taller than you and your eyes searched his urgently, trying to decipher the answer he hadn't put into words.

The blond placed his big hands on your cheeks, reddened by the cold and now by shame, and caressed your skin with his thumbs.

You swore that if it wasn't for his soft grip on your face, you might have passed out from how fast your heart was beating, your legs felt like jelly, and the suspense felt eternal. You wanted to yell at him to answer or for him to do something, anything to finally stop your heart racing with feelings.

You opened your mouth to talk, but Jeongin closed the distance between you by placing his lips on yours.

You froze at first, arms still on either side of your body but then, as if awakened from a trance, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to lose yourself in the heat of the kiss, everything around you felt cold except for this moment, the soft feeling of his plush lips on yours and the warmth spreading from the tip of your fingertoes to every strand of hair on your head.

He moved only a few inches from you, enough to be able to whisper over your lips "I like you too".

You laughed slowly, so softly that it almost felt like a whisper, so only he could hear it "Yes, I think I realized that" And tangling your hands behind his neck you brought him closer to you to kiss him again.

Jeongin doesn't like to be touched, but you were the only exception.

#stray kids fluff #yang jeongin fluff #i.n fluff #yang jeongin x reader #i.n x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz soft thoughts #stray kids soft thoughts #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #bri writes

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whimsicalwritingsandmore · 4 months

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Want You Back | ateez x reader

Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader

Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?

Warnings for this chapter: mention of an emotional affair

Word Count: 3143 words

a/n: the chapter I have been waiting for. :') it is time. I look forward to your reactions and feedback! It'll definitely help me work on my writing for these types of scenes in the future! :D Enjoyyy! <3

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Chapter 7

When you thought about it, you had a lot of feelings going on at the moment. Your emotional state felt like a merry-go-round that was never-ending. There were times when you didn’t know what to think when it came to your situation with the boys. This was one of those times.

All your life you had learnt that the bond between mates was sacred and predestined. You were taught that it was something that couldn’t be explained with logic, it was a connection so heavenly and divine, you were tied to one another for forever and more. To a point, you believed that there was indeed a revered and sanctified essence to the bond you and your mates created. But was it really unbreakable?

When you sought therapy from Chan’s friend Ryunjin, she didn’t give you a complete doom and gloom outlook on things. She reassured that there could be a possibility of reconciliation but, not everything was necessarily foreordained.

“Is it even worth it to continue? I feel like it’s all been a lie.” you dispassionately asked.

“In a perfect world, there would be no mistakes. So then, it might be fair to walk away in that case. But realistically, we are all prone to committing errors, and if we were to always leave and continue searching for perfection, we’ll always be searching and never satisfied.”

“I don’t know if I could trust them.”

“That’s fair, you don’t need to immediately off the bat, you should first talk to them and take it from there. I‘ll be honest, you know deep down the right answer, it’s up to you to decide what is best for you.”

Yes, fate allowed you to meet the boys.

Yes, fate brought you all together as each other’s mates.

Yes, fate played a significant role in your relationship when you thought about it.

But fate also played a harsh game with you, as some would say. You were thrust into an emotional upheaval and everything you ever knew and were told about love and relationships was far from the truth. So yes, you believed a relationship was sacred and you believed people were meant to come into your life and cross paths for a reason. But it did not mean they would necessarily always be a part of the journey.

Ultimately, you still loved the boys. And deep down, the thought of just walking away felt unacceptable given that there was still a lot that you wished to communicate, discuss and get off your chest. Once you had gotten past the anger that simmered inside of you like a boiling pot, you felt more reassured that you could have a civil discussion with a firm and determined but also calm resolve.

It surprised you just how much anger there was contained in you. As you continued your sessions and Ryunjin continued asking questions and poked you for answers, it all erupted like a volcano.

And it felt really good to let it all out.

However, you didn't expect things to happen so soon. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you weren't really sure when the right time would present itself, so you decided to leave it up to fate. If anything, your belief had been further strengthened given the last few months. Life may have been harsh, but it resolidified the courage and strength that you didn’t realize you had in you.

Minho had informed you that your bond to the boys would remain passive as if it was in a deep slumber until you chose to communicate with them. With no communication in the past six months, they could not sense where you were but rather feel your lingering presence somewhere.

At the window, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung and Jongho all stood with glassy eyes as they peered inside. Only Hongjoong wore an unreadable expression.

Your mind wandered to your past.

Kim Hongjoong was the reserved but charming boy in your primary school who you befriended as it was just the two of you who sat at a table alone, everyone else in their own little groups. He looked at you occasionally and you thought he was weird. It wasn’t until during lunch when you heard some of your classmates snickering about you behind your back, he passed you a cookie, sat next to rather than opposite you, and told you he liked your hair which was in a pretty French braid. He then attempted to engage in a conversation about which games you liked to play and things you liked to do. Though a bit apprehensive, you became comfortable with him after a while and from then on, the two of you were two peas in a pod.

As you got older, it wasn’t necessarily a romantic bond. Being the two introverts that you were, both of you spent time fairly often together and hardly with anyone else. You were best friends and wherever one of you was, the other was sure to be there or nearby. When both of you attended high school, Hongjoong was the center of attention for most girls. They would gift him lavish presents on his birthday and any holidays that came by, hoping that he would return their feelings. He didn’t but you found it amusing how well liked he was.

“They don’t know how annoying you really are.” You joked.

He would respond by playfully pulling your ear and ruffling your hair. Hongjoong never told you this, but as much as he liked to mess with you, he also liked to take care of you. When you would question if your hair looked good, he would gently fix it and tell you how beautiful you looked. He would wait for you outside your classroom when your classes were separate and treat you to delicious snacks and treats from time to time. He couldn’t explain it at the time, you were special to him although you weren’t bonded, and it irked him when someone would try to woo you off your feet.

Like the time you received a rose from a classmate for your birthday, Hongjoong was not amused. He latched onto you and followed you everywhere you went, and then brood at the person trying to sweet talk you.

Then on your 16th birthday, you both bonded and realized you were each other’s better half. It all made sense now in your minds and Hongjoong adored you more than anything.

The next two years were just the two of you, filled with fondness, devotion and tenderness.

Snapping back to the present, you were frozen in your spot. There they were, and excluding Mingi, it had been six months since you last saw them. They all still looked the same as far as you could tell in contrast to yourself, who now sported blonde highlights and layered hair complimented with a small nose ring on the right side of your nose.

You invited them in, joined two tables with their assistance and brought out eight cups of peppermint and chamomile tea. You sat at the head of the table with four boys each on either side. No one attempted to break the lingering silence.

Until Seonghwa did.

"Your hair looks very pretty." He complimented in a sweet soft voice.

"T-thank you." You slightly bowed, touching your hair. It caught you off guard, they seemed to be so calm and that puzzled you.

"Mingi told us about you being here," Yunho stated, "We felt your bond after a long time."

"Mhm," You nodded in response, "When I got cornered, I initiated it to alert Mingi."

"Who were they?" San asked.

"Humans turned into rogues actually. My friend Changbin did some research, just like what we heard back home, some of the rogues managed to escape here and turned anyone who offered their loyalty and liked to wreck havoc."

You heard slight snarls emitting from some of the boys. Given everything that happened with the rogues, each of them was ready to tear any of them apart if given the chance.

"We're so glad you're okay. When Mingi told us what you've been doing, we felt comforted to know you were somewhere safe." Jongho declared.

Hongjoong scoffed.

There it was. If there was anyone out of eight of them who wouldn't hesitate to hide his annoyance and anger, it would be Hongjoong.

"Are we done with the small talk and pretending like we aren't mad?" He announced.

"Hongjoong." Seonghwa warned.

"No, I will not keep quiet," he seethed, turning to you with pure, fiery anger in his eyes, "Tell me Y/N, was it fun? Frolicking around and pretending like you didn't have any mates waiting for you."

"Hongjoong!" Wooyoung yelled.

But Hongjoong ignored everyone and continued, "We were worried sick, we were broken, we needed you and here you are living your life without any regret."

"It's not like that Hongjoong." You started.

"That's enough Hongjoong!” Mingi exclaimed.

"No, it's not enough, don't you remember the pain you were feeling Mingi? The aching feeling and sleepless nights. We were all miserable, and not just us, the young ones at the daycare were pining for her too but she didn't even care."

"You don't know..."

"Don't know what? Tell me what I don't know Y/N. Because it seems my mother was right about you."

That one statement paused everything. For a moment, you reeled yourself at Hongjoong's words. Kim Hongjoong was the first one you met, the first one you bonded to and the first one you kissed and shared most intimate moments with in the beginning before meeting the others. It was just you and him before meeting Mingi and now, he sat across from you saying the one thing you hoped you would never hear him say.

"Maybe my mom was right."

Mrs Kim hated you and you never knew why. But those sessions with Ryunjin revealed something.

“She hates you because you have what she couldn’t.”

It didn't take long for you to see red. The anger you once thought you had come to terms with erupted again and in your subconscious you slowly put the pieces together. Hongjoong's mother was the reason for the majority of your insecurities and while the boys did carry their own faults in neglecting you, she was the cause that made you spiral further. She was the one pushing Lila and she was the one who would make comments about the boys not liking a whining Luna, and the "fact" that a Luna is supposed to not be a nuisance to her mates. All because, in her eyes and mind, she saw you as an embodiment of what she could never have again.

And just like that, you snapped.

"You're a real piece of work Kim Hongjoong," you snarled viciously.

Hongjoong's eyes snapped in surprise along with everyone else’s by your tone. No Luna as far as it was known would use that kind of tone with her mate. And the fact that you did was extremely shocking to them.

"What did you just say to me?"

"You heard me," you bit back ferociously, "You have the guts to sit there and accuse me so shamelessly as if you are a saint who never messes up or makes a mistake."

Hongjoong didn't respond, he glared at you trying to assert dominance but failed.

"You're talking about the pain you felt, okay fine, I won't dispute your feelings. But what about how I felt? What about my sleepless nights and my aching heart. Does none of that matter? You’re completely disregarding my feelings? I was falling apart Hongjoong! I was crushed and at my wits end and you know more than anything how hard I tried to get your mother's approval, only for you to sit there and tell me she was right? Was she really? Because I sacrificed a lot more than you did Kim Hongjoong and you know that. What do you not know Hongjoong? You know everything and you know exactly what you did." You barked.

"Wait..." Yeosang interrupted, "Y/N what do you mean?"

You narrowed your gaze at Hongjoong who looked everywhere but at you, poking his cheek with his tongue. Tears streamed down your face uncontrollably and you felt your resolve breaking apart slowly but you held your ground.

"Do you remember what you told me Hongjoong? I should dress up more like Lila. Kind of funny how you were so into how she dressed and what she wore. I knew you two had a similar interest in fashion, so I tried to write it off, but then the way you hugged her, the way you were so into what she was doing, your "harmless" messages…you knew exactly what you were doing."

"What are you trying to say—"

"YOU WERE HAVING AN EMOTIONAL AFFAIR!” You shrieked. “You were emotionally cheating on me Hongjoong and you knew exactly what you were doing. You knew my insecurities but you didn't care, you expected me to keep quiet and still be there for you because "I'm your mate" and I was supposed to listen to you and obey. You were using me Hongjoong exactly like what your mother did to your father."

The breaking of this revelation sent everyone in a spiral. They hadn't realized till all the pieces clicked together. That's why Hongjoong had Lila around so much, that's why he would keep suggesting they all should stay out late and do things. He was trying to cover his tracks because not only was he emotionally cheating on you but also on them. But it would have only been clear when you found out.

Hongjoong's mother did the same thing to his father after Hongjoong was born. It was during the sealing of the realms and his father, being clan leader, was away majority of time as a witness to the sealing. Mrs Kim found solace in another clan member until Mr Kim found out and denounced his bond with her. They continued to live together for the sake of their children as having separated parents was frowned upon and subjected the child to unfair treatment, but Hongjoong’s father built up a lot of resentment for years to come and never considered rekindling the connection. He wanted nothing to do with her romantically.

As such, Mrs Kim didn't like the way you were living such an idyllic life — you had a blissful relationship that she would never have again.

And she rathered Lila because she was the daughter of the clan member, the one who was exiled from the pack, her former love affair, and who joined another pack on the other side of town. No, she wasn’t Mrs Kim's child, Mrs Kim just simply preferred her over you.

Your voice broke the boys out from their dazes.

"I loved you Kim Hongjoong and I still do. Gosh, I still care so much about you even though I shouldn’t and I still want to make it work because I know, I know you aren't a horrible person, at least I thought you weren’t. But now I'm wondering if I really know you at all."

And that's all it took for Hongjoong's facade to break. He thought you wouldn’t find out. He knew what he was doing was wrong but his infatuation got the best of him. Truly, it started off as any ordinary friendship. Lila was kind and nice and that was that. But there were times when she would subtly flirt with him. At first, he paid no heed and rejected her affections. But after a while, when work and meetings became a bit overbearing and his mother would annoy him with the same old tell-tale of you not being good enough for him despite his reprimands that you meant everything to him, he allowed some reciprocation now and again but without any physical attachment. He thought that wouldn’t define it as him cheating…

But it did and he knew it. So he would rope in the other boys to go to lunches or dinners. They were friendly with Lila too so it wouldn’t come off as too odd, in contrast to if it was just the two of them. Hongjoong was aware that the boys did not really care for Lila like they did for you, and it would take a bit of coaxing to get them to join. Heck, even he didn’t care for her like that but it was such a spur of the moment, he couldn’t help it. He had a feeling some of the boys were questioning him before you disappeared but after your disappearance, they had all hit a wall and it was never revealed.

“I hate you.” You seethed.

Those three words broke Hongjoong from his daze. You, his best friend, first love, his first in many things, hated him and it was all his fault. He wronged you and continued to do so because he was trying to run away from the fact that his actions were damning and inexcusable. In his mind, still communicating with Lila would mean he hadn’t really done anything wrong. It was a twisted and poor attempt of trying to absolve himself from taking accountability. He could feel Mingi and Seonghwa’s fiery gazes and he was too terrified to look up to see the others.

You got up and stormed out of the café. The others just stared blankly in shock and despair from what they just heard. Hongjoong didn’t deny it and it felt like a ton of bricks hitting them all at once.

As you rushed out, Chan, Jisung, Minho and Jeongin passed by. They came to check on you but when you brushed past without acknowledging them and Chan saw your mates through the window, he immediately asked Minho to go after you. Jisung turned all around to figure out what just happened, but when he saw your mates on the other side of the window, he was not pleased. Chan felt Jisung's shift in aura. It was much darker than Jisung’s usually fun and joyful temperament and character. While Jisung may not be very good at fighting, he was very good at magic and spells, and at using strategy and wit over bod. And when someone hurts a person close to him, well, it doesn't usually end very well.

“Since when does Jisung float?” Jeongin asked.

Jisung began levitating with a menacing glare piercing through the window. Good things the streets were clear for the night.

“Oh dear,” Chan muttered, “This isn’t good.”

Jisung left the two behind, stormed into the café and scowled at the eight men.

"So,” he retorted with one hand in the air and a dark and purple cloud engulfing the room, “Which one of you is Hongjoong now, hm?"

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Tag list:

@eastleighsblog @sehun096rainbow @greensnakeglobep @satsuri3su @zonked-times @sugarrush-blush @lomons @explorewithd @chatsgotmytongue @scarfac3 @popcatx0 @angrynightnight @sannieluvrr @idfkeddieishot @alicia-dpa @park-simphwa @puppyminnnie @mysticfire0435 @sundayysunshine @chngbnwf

(I just got the chance to go through my activity and add all who requested to be on the tag list. There were quite a few notifs so if I missed you, firstly, I'm really sorry!! Please send me a private message so I can add you to the list! It'll be easier for me to catch!)

#ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ot8 ateez x reader #poly ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez series #poly!ateez

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tepkunset · 8 months

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Representation vs. Appropriation

When I made a tumblr blog post pointing out that the character creator in Baldur’s Gate 3 included culturally appropriative face tattoos, lot of people decided to bend over backwards to defend this. Excuses I have found while giving my blocking finger a routine work-out thus far have ranged from “Larian Studios is European so they don’t know any better”, to a classic “it’s just a fantasy game, stop being so oversensitive”. But by far the most common poor reaction was, “what if it’s representation?”

Now, two Māori people were quick to jump into this post and say themselves, clear as day, that this is not representation, it is appropriation. That should be enough right there—settlers do not get to decide what is and isn’t representation for us Indigenous folks. But white people not listening to Indigenous voices is nothing new. I’ve been forced to learn that if you want to be taken seriously by settlers, your best chance is to coddle and appease their poor little delicate feelings. So, let’s pretend for a second that these “what if it’s representation?” questions are actually asked in good, albeit ignorant faith, and not just a pathetic gut-reaction to avoid having to critically think about a beloved game. (Which, by the way, I still overall adore myself, mind you.) Let’s pretend they actually want an answer, and give it to them.

It’s very easy to list the examples of positive Indigenous representation I’ve personally experienced in video games, not made by Indigenous folks ourselves, because there’s only one game that comes to mind: Assassin’s Creed 3. The protagonist of AC3 is Ratonhnhaké:ton of the Kanienʼkehá꞉ka people. Ubisoft is a terrible company for other reasons, but they did one thing right in the development of this game: They hired a cultural consultant, Thomas Deer. Deer was able to guide them through avoiding offensiveness and stereotypes, and include proper cultural touchstones that Indigenous players, especially Mohawk players, would want to see. For example, Ubisoft originally wanted to include sacred ceremonial masks in the game, but Deer told them that depictions of these masks would be taboo. He also helped them choose what clothing and jewellery was authentic to the Nation. This, among much more, helped create a truly representative experience. What makes it representation is that it features an Indigenous character in a positive way, without crossing lines into what should not be touched by outsiders. But had Ubisoft decided to ignore Deer’s consultation and go ahead with using those sacred masks… that would have been cultural appropriation.

Cultural appropriation is taking a closed cultural practice and using it yourself, despite not belonging to the culture it comes from. The key word there is closed, as in, something not for outsiders to touch. Eating frybread is not cultural appropriation, because it’s something freely shared by Natives to others. But wearing a fake headdress to your local musical festival is cultural appropriation, because headdresses are sacred regalia not freely shared by Natives to others. It really is that simple: just listen to boundaries set by the People.

“But my fake headdress is just clothing.” “But a fake kakiniit is just ink.” “But my fake totem pole is just decoration.” Except not, and the very fact that you have no respect for the history and meaning behind these things is the perfect example as to why they are not for you. But being told something isn’t for them has always been a hard a pill for settlers to swallow.

The phrase “nothing about us without us” is often used when advocating for rights and respect of minorities. It was first brought into English vocabulary by South Africa’s disability activism in the 1990’s, and has since been adapted across the world as a slogan to mean uplifting voices of the people you claim to want to help, instead of speaking over them. I personally first heard it through EDIRA work (Equity, Diversity, Inclusion, Reconciliation and Accessibility) at my job, and I feel like it can be applied in many different ways, this being one of them. The best representation comes from listening to the people you want to represent. Had Larian done that, they would have known that imitating those tattoos was off limits. But since they didn’t, they took what wasn’t theirs to take. And that’s appropriation.

#cultural appropriation #appropriation #representation #racism

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plutonianeris · 1 year

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pick a pile: how you secretly intimidate others ⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓

this is a general reading & for entertainment purposes only, take what resonates and leave what doesn't. scroll through the images & choose based on your inner guidance and gut feeling. ⛓️

♱☾pile one☽

“don’t call me baby! im not your baby!”

you intimidate others with your individuality. There’s something about you that’s very weird or kind of quirky. not in the “oh im not like other gwurls 🤪” cringey way. but rather you’re kind of blunt even when you don’t mean to be other people might think that what you say is too harsh or direct. This seems to be some thing that might throw off men as well but at the same time it’s also make some desire you. That free spirit can be seen as something that other people want in their life but it’s not always with the best intentions. It’s kind of like they want you to fulfill something for them. Kind of like to conquer you in a way. But it seems like that literally never happens because instead, you’re literally a tower moment for other people in their lives.

Just by being you, you unconsciously force other people to reflect on certain things in their life. you guys people specifically to reflect on their insecurities, and also their childhood. You could find that people, especially women project onto you. they could look at you and mumble under their breath or too each other like “what the fuck is their problem” or talk about how you think you “know it all”

it seems like people are just really intimidated by your knowledge and what you have to share with other people. you might have some Aquarius placements. Whether what you share with others is topics about religion or spirituality or “taboo” subjects, other people could be thrown off by your words, while at the same time secretly want to hear more.

this pile, gave off a lot of scorpio and/or aries and/ or libra & taurus energy and 8th house/ pluto aspects energy. when I asked about qualities people associate with you I got “ regeneration, suspicion, passion, beautiful, art, experimentation, intelligent, creativity, wisdom.” 🕯️

🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️ tip jar 🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️

♱☾pile two☽

“no, I’m killing boys.”

people are secretly intimidated by the way you can rise from the ashes and transform completely after going through super traumatic shit. The way you seem to be able to recover from stuff that can be straight out of someone’s nightmare and manage to come out on top is inspiring but also it makes other people feel insecure. pile two, other people seem to think that you somehow just “get lucky” when something really good happens to you. People might think that you didn’t have to work that hard for it. They could secretly send you evil eye and think oh I wish that would’ve happened to me instead..

shit I’m not gonna lie I feel in awe and a little shook reading these cards describing your energy. you are literally an alchemist. You transform everything you touch and you transform after every experience with a lot of grace and harmony. lmfaoo the quote from “what? like its hard” from legally blonde popped up. The thing is that it actually is hard but you’ve been doing it for so long. There’s no other way for you to really function. You manage to continuously strengthen your spirituality over and over again.

and there’s a certain element of privacy that you also keep when it comes to your home life and the space you live in and also in regards to what you’re even thinking. It kind of leaves people in constant speculation of who you are what you actually do or where you even live. but this privacy seems necessary to you, sacred to you actually. Your personality, ego, and the way you view yourself are in a constant state of fluctuation. But never in a way that ends up being super detrimental to you. even when you “mess up” you learn something and get better.

you are someone that is very strong and I don’t wanna say that like in a corny “omg ur saiuuir strong u went through so much :(“ pity way. I literally mean just a very unique kind of perseverance within your spirit where time after time you just can’t be knocked down. And other people wonder about that, but they’re not even close to being able to dissect it & that intimidates them.

You could be someone that has a lot of 12th house or fourth house placements, as well as Jupiter, Sagittarius, or Pluto prominent in the chart. when I asked about qualities/ words that people associate with you, I got “independent, knowledgeable, transformation, roots, subconscious, potential, hope” 🔐

🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️ tip jar 🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️

♱☾pile three☽

“how do you feel about yourself now stupid motherfucker? you couldve had some pussy.”

people are secretly intimidated by the way you run shit. You have a very straightforward and innovative, and out of the box solution for many of the obstacles you face in life. Similar to pile 2 there is resentment in response to the way you succeed. But when it comes to you it’s more because of the way you do things. people might think “oh it’s not fair that they did it that way and won..” but in reality, you have a unique power being able to bounce back really fast from shit. you don’t mind being someone brand new every single day or changing your habits or routines, or the way you connect with people were your resources very quickly.

In fact, you’re constantly flowing in these spaces of rebirth and attatchment and security. and that intimidate people because they wonder well how is it possible that you’re changing your character and your appearance and your own self all the time and YOU dont care if people label it as a fake or weird. Like I’m not gonna lie this piles giving off someone who has such a range of random aesthetics that ppl r like seeing u as someone who dresses up or is wearing a costume when in reality you just feel transformed by your experiences so frequently.

its giving “im not the person who i was yesterday” so don’t try it today energy. it intimidates people that you’re not ashamed of changing your mind and being like “ well actually I used to like that and now I don’t like it anymore, so can you please respect the boundaries I set up now.”

you TRUST yourself. and not only does that intimidate people but it also makes them MAD. chiron aka trauma, wounds, healing, pain etc popped up, so it doesn’t mean that all your life you had this confidence or ability to listen to yourself and your intuition. If anything you suffered a lot and had a period of time (especially in childhood) were you were taught to not listen to yourself or your intuition. where you were told that if you showed leadership and willpower, and if you used your anger and embraces your anger, that bad things would happen.

But then, finally, you did and you realized that you get so much more from life when you show people how to treat you from the start. And other people want to be able to do that. And you securely inspire them to do that but it’s also a mixture of envy as well thats included in those feelings toward you. oh well. protect your peace! you could be someone that has aries, first house, 8th house and 2nd house placements. 888 also popped up if that has any significance to you. when I asked about qualities/ words that people associate with you, I got “secure, possessive, leader, warrior, loyal.”⚖️

🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️ tip jar 🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️

#pac #pick a deck #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick a pile #astro tarot #astrology #intuitive reading #pick a pile reading #pick an image reading #astrology readings #astro reading #plutonianeris #tarot reading

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