#THE SPIDER HEART AND THE ARROW THROUGH IT

[biitchcakes]

@oceansfirst //

❝ . . . ❞

❝ Thanks, Clint. I was craving fries. ❞

[jsooly]

Can I make an ask for the sully seriessss? I wanna see what would happen if y/n got into a fight with one of the sullys (idm which one) so at the ended of the day she started going back to the lab with spider instead of being around them and like they kept going back to the lab like for atleast a week and a half, and she basically sleeps there, eats there, doesn’t actually leave it and the sullys haven’t seen her in dayssss and this sort of thing has never happened before

If you don’t wanna do this it’s okay but tysm!! :)

taken in by the sullys (10) / sully family x human!daughter/sister!reader

synopsis, flashback to when you get into a fight with neytiri and stay at the lab for a day or two… or twelve…

try not to put lore in the filler chapters challenge: failed. lol

thank you for your request <3 sorry if it isn't what you intended, but i hope i did it justice! i'm slowly working through my inbox so if you sent a request in, dw, i haven't forgotten them :D

(1) / . . . / (8*) / (9*) / (10 - ur here! ☆)

+ chapters with an * beside it means that it’s following atwow plot line as opposed to disconnected scenarios

years before the RDA returned. . .

as we’ve talked about in the earlier chapters, you can owe your strength and skill to neytiri, who was very diligent in training you.

you started earlier than any of your siblings. you learned to string bows, build arrows, proper technique for handling knives, etc...

it was clear to anyone that neytiri was the hardest on you. she put a lot of pressure on you to be the best.

in the early years, she was hyperaware of the clan's opinions of her. of jake, of the half-blood children she would eventually have one day. even though they were triumphant against humanity, she still held a bitterness for them.

so she was shocked when she felt so strongly about keeping you as her own. jake was more than ready to respect her wishes if push came to shove, but despite her grudge against the sky people, she was 100% on board with your adoption.

neytiri loved you very much, but sometimes other people's opinions were more important than your happiness.

"again." neytiri snapped, circling you like a hawk. her golden eyes were focused on you, constantly assessing your form for any missteps.

your eyes darted to her before you swallowed your nerves and pulled the bowstring taut.

"not quite. again."

you let the bow drop, clenching your eyes shut. what am i getting wrong? you inhaled sharply, drawing the bow once more, the thin string digging into the joints of your middle and index finger. your gaze flickered to neytiri in preparation for her critique.

she pursed her lips before she sighed, shaking her head lightly. "you must be faster, ma'ite."

you frowned, gently releasing the bowstring. the disappointment in her voice made your skin hot with embarrassment. "i'm pulling it as fast as i can."

"not good enough." her eyebrows furrowed. "we will do more strength training. forget the bow. for now we will build your muscles."

she stalked off, swiping the bow from you. you watched her leave before dropping onto the ground in exhaustion. you stared at the leather stitching in the ceiling, your heart thumping in your chest as you entered a resting state.

it was hard to impress neytiri, much less meet her expectations. you were working yourself to the bone, and still you weren't scratching the surface of her approval.

it only got worse as you got older. you were capable of more, so neytiri pushed you harder.

unfortunately, you were also in an age where you were increasingly self-conscious. this anxiety was only fueled by the strife within the clan. strife centered around you.

they didn't like that you were participating in their training rituals, especially since you regularly outperformed the other children.

and this isn't to say you just happen to be able to achieve such feats despite being human—

neytiri had you working all the time.

the other kids wanted to win. you had to win.

unknowingly, and unintentionally, neytiri conditioned you into thinking being the best would make you worthy of your family.

"what is the use, neytiri?" a clan member asked her, the judgement clear on his tone. he consoled his own child who was just beaten in combat by you. "the child is human. no matter how much time you pour into teaching her, she will never be part of the clan."

"i am aware," neytiri shoots back dismissively.

"you have sons. neteyam is the next olo'eyktan, and you waste your time on a demon."

"demon or not, she is a part of my family. we train all our children, y/n is no different." neytiri hissed, whirling to face her challenger.

the man stepped back but didn't step down. "what is the goal of her training? she cannot complete iknimaya. she cannot bond, she cannot see, she cannot connect with the great mother—"

"there are many things y/n cannot do. to make up for it, she will be everything the sky people are not. she will be clever, quick, and deadly like any other na'vi child, otherwise there would have been no point in keeping her." neytiri snarled, her anger bubbling over the surface.

the man was putting her own fears into words. she was unforgiving to sky people, wishing they would remain with their kind rather than infiltrate her and her people's space. she was aware she was being hypocritical when it came to you, and it ate her up inside when she thought about it. but that's just a mother's love—paradoxical.

she was determined to mold you into perfection so that no one would think you didn't belong among them.

she stormed away from the man and his child, her thoughts so clouded that she didn't even notice you standing right there, hiding behind a branch as you eavesdropped.

you stared at her until she vanished from view, her words stewing in your mind.

some part of you knew that she felt that way. simply observing the differences between how she trained you versus neteyam or lo'ak were clear as day. she handled you with an urgency as if you were stacked against a ticking clock, as if you had to fight to be able to stand in front of her and receive her instruction.

she would only respond to excellence. and even then, her praise was weighed down by an unspoken burden.

you sat behind that branch for a very long time.

demon. the man called you that, and she didn't deny it.

—

the dinner table was filled with the pleasant chatter of your younger siblings, reveling in their various feats and findings in the earlier hours.

"what about your day, y/n?" jake asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and squeezing.

you sighed, nudging the food on your leaf. "just training."

"this reminds me, y/n," neytiri spoke up, wiping tuk's face before glancing over to you. "we can fit in another burst of strength conditioning before bed."

your expression hardened, your eyes falling to the ground. "i'm pretty tired..."

"that's why you're fueling up." she said, almost confused that you would shirk training.

"i won the races today." you said sharply, your eyes narrowing. "isn't that enough?"

"you must be faster, ma'ite." neytiri stressed, her brows furrowing in that oh-so-familiar disappointing look. jake sent her a silent message from across the table, warning neytiri to back down and maybe be encouraging for once.

"i—faster?" you shot back incredulously. you won. forget being faster, you were the fastest.

"our world is unforgiving. even a second can be the difference between life and death." neytiri said matter-of-factly. pity swam in her eyes as she gazed upon you.

you slammed your hands down, glaring outright at your mother. "stop acting like that's the reason you want me to train so hard."

a slow blink. neytiri froze, her ears flattening as she barely contained her reaction. "watch your tone, daughter."

you throw caution to the wind, springing to your feet with clenched fists hanging at your sides. "i do everything you ask. i train, i win, i fight, i hunt—"

"you are not fast enough!" neytiri doubled down, rising to her feet and towering over you.

"i am not enough, period." you correct her, and you didn't miss the flicker of guilt in her expression. got you. the child in you hoped she would deny it, to tell you that it wasn't like that. but the subtle wince told you all you needed to know.

a beat passed as neytiri breathed hard, collecting the scattered thoughts in her head and reigning in her emotion.

"you are alive," neytiri began slowly. "because i made you strong. because i did not coddle you like a helpless child. i did not give you the luxury of softness, because no one would else would. you think you suffer because of me? you won today because you are better than them. both na'vi and sky people alike. because i made you more than what they expected."

"you pushed a narrative on me! you don't see me for who i am."

she snarled, striding around the table. "the clan is the one that does not see you. i see fire in you, y/n. the drive to be more than what you were born as."

"none of this is for my sake! you want me to prove that i'm worth something to the clan. that i'm worth something to you. and i'm trying." your voice tapered off into a whine.

"you're human. you have needed to prove yourself from the minute you set foot on this tree."

you blinked back tears, your face flipping between emotional distress and anger, shoulders rising with every heavy breath.

"what—" your voice broke, and you breathed in deeply before continuing. "what if i didn't want to fight for my place? what if i just wanted to be your daughter?"

she opened her mouth to retort but the gravity of your words hit her like a truck.

frustrated with her lack of response, you spun on your heels and booked it out of the marui with a aggravated scream.

there was a lengthy silence that hung in the air after you stormed out. neytiri said nothing further, dropping back into her seat.

they didn't see you for days after that.

jake and neytiri initially panicked, fearing you were victim to pandora's nightly dangers

but norm put in a call and informed them that you were just hanging around them in an old bunk.

jake visited you in the beginning, coaxing you to return. but you refused.

when he put his foot down and ordered you to come home, you said you'd come on your own time, later that day.

you never showed up. when he went back looking for you, you were nowhere to be found. you were straight up avoiding them.

he knew that he wasn't the one you needed to see. but neytiri was just as stubborn.

"she will come back." neytiri said calmly, but she churned her spices with more aggression that jake's ever seen before.

"you're her mother," jake gently spoke up. "it's your job to chase after her."

she hissed at her husband. "she cannot understand that i am the way i am with her for her own benefit."

"she's a child. barely a teenager. she's doesn't care why you're doing it."

"she doesn't listen."

jake snickered, earning a hard smack to his chest from neytiri. "what?" she snapped.

jake's laughter trailed off as he gave her a knowing look. "now you know how i feel with your sons."

she rolled her eyes.

"she has a lot stacked against her." jake reasoned, scooting closer to her. "she doesn't need to fight her mom, too."

the kids were insufferable.

with you gone, there were lots they couldn't do—namely go out and play in the forest, which was their favorite.

in your absence, jake sometimes found the time to take them out, but he didn't let them have fun like you did.

you let them explore their surroundings, only cautioning them when they were doing something seriously stupid. jake's dad brain didn't allow for much wiggle room, and he wanted them in his sight at all times.

all that to say they were bored. they missed you.

"when is y/n coming back?" lo'ak's little voice whined, climbing on neytiri's back.

"soon." she muttered, her voice clipped. she could feel her resolve slipping.

parenting never came with a guidebook. she was young, freshly 20 when she had neteyam. she didn't know what she was doing, and she hoped the lengths she took to prepare her children for the real world would pay off. the reality was she was stuck.

she also missed you.

"i wanna go outside." kiri raised her arm, pointing to the expanses of the forest.

neytiri groaned. "kiri, we've told you. no outside if your father can't watch you."

she stomped her foot, complaining. "ugh, neteyam's only four years younger than tsmuke. can't he watch us?"

neytiri gave her daughter a warning look. "neteyam is a baby, just like you. he can't fight off viperwolves or save you from a hammerhead stampede, can he? do you want to be flattened?"

"no." kiri muttered, her glare dropping to the floor.

"you can go outside when your father returns from his duties." neytiri sighed.

neytiri was beginning to reach her limit.

she was anxious. when they went to bed at night, there was always something missing. she itched as if something was left undone.

she struggled to sleep. at the least, jake was also in a similar state. they often lay awake beside each other quietly, but the air between them was charged with a million unspoken thoughts.

the next morning, on the twelfth day you've spent away from them, neytiri finally had enough.

she got up at the crack of dawn. by her understanding, you actively avoided them. how you got wind of their arrival without even seeing them was beyond her. or perhaps it wasn't—she probably taught you that.

she slinked through the wet forest, the morning mist kissing her skin with dew drops. it smelled like rain, like dirt and musk. she just hoped she would be able to outwit you.

she found herself smiling, pride sneaking its way into her heart. how funny that you were using everything she taught you against her.

she didn't make her presence known. she was careful not to trip any of the perimeter alarms, peeking through the foggy windows for any indication of your location.

her ears stood at attention at the sound of rustling behind her. it was faint, barely recognizable, and worth pursuing.

she raced after the sound before it got away from her. she caught sight of your skin against the dull earthy tones of the forest, her eyes brightening.

abandoning your stealthy approach, you broke into a sprint.

"y/n!" she yelled after you. your burst of speed caught her off guard and she scrambled to her feet to chase after you. "wait!"

"i don't want to talk to you!" you yelled over the wind.

unfortunately your legs stood no chance against neytiri's massive strides. you were within her reach in seconds. her hand shot out to grab you. you dodged her, shifting your direction and running between her legs. you yanked on her queue, surprising yourself when you packed enough strength to throw her off balance.

when neytiri got a hold of her bearings, you vanished. she did a 360, scanning the area before turning her gaze up. picking a random tree, she began to climb.

"y/n." she said softly when she climbed high enough. you were already leaping across branches. she followed you, pushing hard to catch up.

"stop—" neytiri grunted as her foot barely found purchase on the tree she was leaping to. "stop running!"

by eywa, you were crazy fast. at least that was something your smaller stature allowed—exponential agility. she grumbled to herself, changing course.

when you jumped and landed with an oomph, you swung your head back to see if she was there. you were annoyed she was chasing you, but now you were even more irritated that she stopped so easily.

with a frown, you straddled the branch.

"aha!" neytiri dropped down from above you.

"what—" you barely looked up before she fell on top of you, screaming as you both slid off the high treetops.

she held you against her, her arm firmly fastened around your stomach, your back pressed to her. her free hand gripped onto a vine, the water shielding her skin from the burn.

you came to a complete stop, swaying just a foot above ground. she dropped down, refusing to let you go even when you got over your shock.

"please, ma'ite, mawey."

"let me go." you grunted, pushing her arm away with little success.

"no."

you probably looked so silly, squirming in neytiri's arms while she battled against your flailing limbs to fully and properly embrace you.

"let's hug."

"what? no."

"give me a hug. we need this."

"ugh." you groaned, going rigid in her arms.

pride ran in the family and neytiri was no different. she struggled to find the right words.

"i am sorry for how relentless i was. i know i'm supposed to have all the answers, but i don't. i'm learning that my way isn't always right, and making you feel out of place was the last thing i wanted to do."

you pursed your lips, hanging limp in her arms.

"you... confuse me, y/n. i have a hatred for sky people and everything they took from me, but i love you. dearly. and this is a feeling i cannot explain to my people. i hoped my methods would help you fit in with them, but i pushed you too hard, too fast."

"i don't mind the training. i know i need it especially." you mumbled. "but doing it constantly—"

"i know, i know." she hushed you, cradling your head. "i don't want you to question anything anymore. you are my daughter, however inexplicable it is."

you smiled warmly at her, finally returning her embrace.

she sat down, setting you in her lap as she undid the hairstyle in your hair, reweaving it with her skillful fingers. "i get scared. you've grown, but i still see you as that toddling baby. pandora is dangerous enough for na'vi as is. i can't help but multiply those dangers by one thousand when you go out there."

she sighed. "i must admit something to you. i have visions of you—one recurring one in particular. it comes and goes. you, bruised and bloodied, a massive slotsyal threatening to swallow you whole." she rested her hands on your shoulders. "i don't want to send you out there and see you hurt, or worse. not when i know i can prepare you."

"you've trained me well," you reassure her. "and you will continue to do so. i won't get into trouble thanks to your lessons. there's no way a stormglider would eat me, either."

she chuckled, standing and holding out her hand in invitation. "perhaps you're right. you are pretty fast."

you beamed up at her.

your bond with neytiri only grew stronger from that point. you were locked in together, and she couldn't be more proud of the fighter you've grown into.

and if anyone had anyone to say about it, they better be ready for a knife fight.

. . .

thanks for reading! <3

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @dae-dreamer @delirious-dolce @strawbaerriesvt @avatar-lover @ryiana @lxon-kxnnedy @zukki33 @chalahyung01 @ssc7514 @shmaptainbonky @aureolinb @whosbibi2000

© jsooly ‘25

[popamolly]

I HAVE A REQ FOR VAL

reader will be a one of the employees who works the cameras at the studio, the rumor that she has a huge crush on val gets out and he confronts her.. in the end having a few drinks which loosens her up and makes her confess how much she wants him and val shows her the time of her life 🤗🤗 (bonus points for overstim and degrading/ praise)

៸៸ ﹟CUT THE CAMERAS!

pairing. valentino x fem!reader

warnings. valentino exists, valentino x fem!employee!reader, smut, oneshot, rough sex, degradation/praise (best of both worlds), overstimulation, reader is a bit tipsy, vouyerism (?), Valentino doesn’t get to cum >:)

author’s note. thank you for the idea anon! this is kinda long because i got carried away but i hope you enjoy <3 (I also want to note that i do not condone Valentine’s actions toward Angel in the show) and as always, request are open!

𖤐 MASTERLIST

“Oh no! I’m a bad boy and I need a real hunk daddy to put me in my place!” Angel acted out the script well, his voice clearly blurring the lines of authenticity as you focused the camera on him and the four large demons that surrounded him. The demons were definitely jocks on Earth because they towered over Angel with ease, their swollen cocks in hand dripping with precum, ready to snap the poor spider like a twig, “Yes, daddy! Stuff me full of your cock!”

All you could think about was how lucky you were to be on the opposite side of the camera. You couldn’t even imagine taking someone or something as large as a forearm, not even to mention the girth— and there was four of them. Angel Dust truly was a wonder and you commended him for his bravery. Little did you know that he was under a contract that practically forced him to do the things he was doing. Did he want to be a pornstar? Not really. Did he want to be a druggie? Who’s to say. Hell was definitely that, Hell.

You focused on your job with a sigh. Which was to work your camera to get all the right angles, preferably with Angel’s fucked out face or holes in the shot. The workers behind the camera wouldn’t dare move from their post on set. Everyone was in their respective roles under Valentino’s watchful gaze.

‘Valentino,’ Just his name in your thoughts had your heart beat quickening. Everything about him was so alluring that you couldn’t help but be intrigued by him. You glanced over in his direction which was across the set from you, giving you a good view of the man you’ve had a crush on since the moment you got this job. He sat tall in his directors chair, right leg crossed over his left elegantly to expose his fish net tights and smooth toned legs. The sight alone could make you drool and he wasn’t doing anything else than just sitting there, ‘Fuck, he is so hot’.

But your thoughts were only just that, thoughts. A silly crush that you told yourself you would grow out of eventually.

You blinked out of your thoughts suddenly at the sound of Angel’s pleasurable scream of ecstasy. After a few more cheesy lines exchanged from the script the scene was officially over.

“And scene! Good job everyone, wrap it up!” Your manager claps before walking Valentino over to my camera to look at the still shots I took and a preview of the video. The lights in the studio came on just as the pair came to stand next to you. Your manager nearly shoves you to the side to take credit of the knowledge of videography like you weren’t just the one that stood behind the camera for hours. If anything you should be the one showcasing your work to Valentino and present him all the best stills you took during the scene— it was your work after all. But atlas you were nothing more than a lowly employee that can’t even draw the attention of the Boss.

“We will delete these as the light is a bit off and to the left, not really highlighting Angel,” Your manager clicked an arrow to scroll through the picture, “Whoever was on light duty needs to be fired.”

“Just trash the ones we can’t use,” Valentino lets out a puff of pink smoke in annoyance, “I only want the best shots of Angel.”

You looked toward the screen, speaking before actually thinking, “Well if you adjust the lighting and contrast on the photos it should be salvageable.”

“Excuse me?” Your manager glares at you, “You aren’t a professional. Your job is to hold a camera, that is it—!”

Valentino covers your managers mouth with one of his four hands before tilting his head at you in curiosity, “You can fix the photos, darling?”

You nearly jump out of your skin with excitement. Valentino was talking to you— actually talking to you and looking in your direction. All you could do was nod at his question before turning toward the computer that was next to the camera, fixing the problem in less than five minutes and presenting the stills to Valentino in anticipation.

Valentino looks them over with a grin, “Perfect, caro. You just potentially saved me thousands of dollars.” Now that he was standing in front you the tall moth man had a chance to take a good look at you. A wicked smile on his face as he had countless of thoughts in his head on just how he could use that perfect body of yours. Something about you had him twitching in want and it wasn’t like Valentino ignore his urges.

Valentino outstretched his arm to extend his body down to be able to take your hand in one of his, his lips brushing against your knuckles gently in a sweet affectionate kiss that had you swooning, “Follow me to my office? I wish to discuss something with you.”

“Oh—I—Um—Okay!” You agreed, stumbling over your words as you tried to ignore the feeling of your manager burning a hole into your head. Without complaint you follow Valentino up some steps and into his large office that just so happened to have a king size bed conveniently placed in the middle of the room, “Did I do something wrong, Valentino?”

“Nonsense! Quite the opposite,” Valentino gestures you to sit on one of his gaudy plush animal print chairs as he walks over to his alcohol table to pour you and himself a drink, “You captured my attention for the time being, how lucky for you, principessa.”

“I-I guess so,“ You gladly take the wine glass Valentino offers you, gliding your fingertips along the rim nervously. Your heart was pounding so much you felt as if it would burst out your chest. Now that you were prey under his gaze you felt as though he would pounce on you at any moment. And the crazy part was that you’d let him. You would let him do every dirty deed to you in the book if he wanted.

To calm your nerves you quickly downed your first glass of wine before letting Valentino offer you another glass. And then another. It wasn’t long before your head was spinning slightly from the buzz the alcohol gave you due to your lightweight nature. It for sure made this interaction easier and even loosened your tongue.

“Can I be honest with you?” You at least still had a clear mind to confess what has been on your mind for weeks now. It was now or never right? “I secretly hoped for this… for you to notice me.”

“Oh?” Valentino raised his eyebrow teasingly, “How naughty of you.”

“Naughty or not..” You sat on the edge of your chair, your knees brushing up against his, “You’re an inspiration Val, truly. I admire you and the work that you do.”

Valentino smiles wide, his gold tooth shining in the light, before taking a small sip of his wine before setting down the glass on a side table. You were giving him such an ego boost that he was starting to like you more and more.

“(Y/N), was it? What a pretty name,” Valentino wasn’t fooled by your innocent persona. If anything, he knew you were the exact opposite. He never breathed down any of his employees necks but he always did an intense research on them and of course nothing happened on his side of Pride Ring without him knowing. Every conversation you had with your fellow coworkers was something he heard about verbatim. This little crush you had on him was flattering to say the least and Valentino wanted to see how far you would take your feelings for him, “Have you ever thought about being in front of the camera instead of behind it? I could make you a star, sweetheart.”

That being said he was good at reading people, and it was quite clear that you were shrinking under his gaze. But it wasn’t from fear— no, it was from something more sensual. Valentino couldn’t help but smirk at you and think how turned on you were and how you did such a terrible job of hiding it.

“Really?” You looked up to meet Valentino’s gaze with such hopeful and naive eyes that your boss felt his cock twitch, “I’m not very photogenic…”

“Oh mio caro, that is an easy fix,” Valentino brought his finger under your glass to slowly tip it up, forcing you to finish your drink down to the last drop. Once you were finished he delicately takes the glass from your hands and sets it aside, “All you have to do it just find a perfect angle that suits you just right.”

With your mind slightly a buzz, you lookedup at Valentino’s looming figure with a soft look, “Valentino—”

“Show me, darling.” Valentino clicks his tongue, fluffing the fur around his neck collar as his heart shaped glasses fell to the bridge of his nose, “Show me how you touch yourself and I promise to find that perfect angle for you.”

With that you are gently pushed down onto the bed, Valentino’s soft hands gliding along your inner thigh before spreading your legs apart, which in turn raises your skirt you were wearing to your waist. A pleased hum falling from his lips as he noticed your pink colored thong you were wearing that had a wet patch beginning to form right in the middle.

“I-I have never..don’t this before,” You admit, “In front of a camera I mean.”

“Oh my darling, there will be no camera, just us.” Valentino took a long drag from his cigarette, “I can find your perfect angle through my eyes alone. Now..show me.”

You got comfortable on the bed, trying to relax your mind and invision yourself in the comfort of your own home. You felt so small under Valentino’s gaze and it caused nothing but a pleasurable shiver to go down your spine as you removed your panties which Valentino was quick to take from your hands so he could sniff them with a deep inhale.

“So obedient,” Valentino smirks at the whimpers that left your lips, eyes fixed on the way your fingers messily rubbed over your clit, “Aren’t you, principessa?”

You nod wordlessly, so caught up in chasing your orgasm, you didn’t even notice Valentino sauntering closer to you. Your fingers began to move faster and faster before they’re pulled away from you suddenly, a whine leaving your lips from your denied orgasm. “You’ll cum when I say slut,” Valentino orders, his fingers rubbing through your soaked pussy at an agonizingly slow pace. You gasp, hips rising for more contact.

“Patience, darling, is a virtue.” You bit down on your bottom lip at Valentino’s words, “You’re so wet for me, i just want to make a mess of you.”

A light moan leaves your lips when you feel the tips of his fingers dip into your needy cunt. You don’t even get a chance to respond before his lips are pressed roughly onto yours, his tongue instantly invading your mouth, your moans now muffled as his fingers continued to skillfully move against your aching pussy. Valentino bites your lip, tugging on the flesh before plunging his fingers back into you, your back arching off the bed at the pleasure.

“V-Valentino! F-Fuck..!”

“Such a good girl for being so patient,” His praises only turn you on even more, if all was possible. “A dirty, fucking girl who wants nothing more than to cum, hm? i feel you tightening around my fingers mio caro.” Valentino is amused by the way your pussy sucks his fingers in with every thrust, “Oh you have such a pretty pussy.”

You whine from the way his thumb ghosts over your clit, “P-Please!”

“Please what, darling? Use that pretty voice of yours hm?”

“P-Please…can I cum?”

Valentino chuckles darkly, thumb rubbing your clit roughly as his fingers continue to pump in and out of you in a fast pace, “Cum for me slut.” You clench your eyes shut from the pleasure, loud, sultry moans leaving your lips with each pump of his fingers. You feel the knot in your stomach begin to tighten, your walls clenching around his digits desperately.

“Ah—! Fuck!” You’re too caught up in finally catching your orgasm. That intense wave crashing over you, leaving your fluttering hole clenching around Valentino’s slender fingers as he continued to pistol them in and out of you at fast pace so you could ride out your mindboggling orgasm.

“There it is! Good fucking girl,” Valentino positions himself between your legs, placing hot kisses onto your neck as your body continues to writhe beneath him, your back arches from the feeling of his tip rubbing between your sensitive folds, a whimper falling from your lips from the overstimulation you felt, “Oh I am not finished with you yet.”

“W-wait! Val—!” You nearly cry out when he pushes himself into you roughly.

“Shhhh,” Valentino’s fingers curl around your throat, his mouth lowering to your ear as his other two hands pin your legs to your chest, putting you in a deep folding press that allowed him to go impossibly deeper, “You’re doing so well for me, sweetheart. Look how this slutty hole takes my cock with ease.”

His thrusts start off slow and deep, each thrust nearing you to yet another orgasm. Everything about him was starting to become addicting. You wanted it all, his touch, his breath, his tongue— you wanted him to use you like his own personal fuck toy. You try to move your hips to match his thrusts, only for his grip to tighten around your throat, a low growl leaving his lips.

“You’re a natural at this, aren’t you dear? You want to get fucked like a slut that bad huh?” Tears began to escape your eyes as Valentino begins to pick up the pace, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix with every thrust. The overstimulation was too much and you couldn’t help but cry from the overwhelming pleasure, “Look at you, such a perfect whore for me.”

You wrap your hands around his wrist to leverage yourself, his grip around your throat nearly sending you over the edge. You felt the sudden desperate need to cum again and you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

Valentino groans from the feeling of your cunt clenching around his dick sporadically, “You going to cum again for me, mio caro? Fucking do it.” He licks his lips at the sight of your tear stained face contorted with pleasure, bringing down his free hand to circle around your clit roughly, your loud moans bouncing off the walls of the dimly lit room, “Do it, slut.”

You release the moment the words left his mouth, Valentino’s thrust coming to a halt as his fingers continue to make a mess of your clit, the clear liquid squirting all over your legs and his pelvis.

Fuck, did he love this. You were falling right into his hands like a moth to a flame and he planned on using that against you. Your naivety and love for him was going to be your downfall and he would be right there with sweet words to guide your hand into signing your soul to him. You would be another star in the making, another flower ready to bloom under the sparkling light. And Valentino couldn’t wait to use that to his advantage.

“That’s my good little whore,” He didn’t even give you a moment to catch your breath before moving his hips once again, “Now you’re going get that slutty pussy to squirt for me again.”

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost in any other social media.

[s0ulsice]

     V I R A G O

CHAPTER 6:

She was a bird, I was an arrow

✮⋆»»———➤⋆.˚꩜ ˙⋆ ☀︎  ✮⋆»»———➤⋆.˚꩜ ˙⋆ ☀︎  

Neteyam x fem na’vi!omaticaya!reader

Characters:

Ka’lik- (like you would pronounce “Malik”) Y/n’s father/deceased

Zensira-deceased, Y/n’s mother, spider's adoptive mother

Kailo-(Y/n’s ikran. Your ikran is a male)

WARNINGS: panic attack, blood, heights, sexual assault???(Kyuna being touchy) attempts of undressing someone? (Again, Kyuna.)

��✮⋆»»———➤⋆.˚꩜ ˙⋆ ☀︎  ☾✮⋆»»———➤

Neteyam POV:

When I was 15 I fell in love.

I fell in love with a girl made of moonlight and stars stitched together by sirenic hymns of pulsed passion. 

She left loose curls in her braids and had bruised knees from climbing. She has auriferous, harvest moon eyes that glow viridescent when the night untangles itself from its resting place, aligned imperfectly with her stellified sunset-tinted soul. 

I started by bringing her little things.

Flowers. Crystals. Herbs for various uses to share with her family. She danced at clan ceremonies, immune to the curse of incoordination. Her dark hair swung behind her, braids woven out of pieces of the night. She was a wild child. Running through rivers and daring to drive herself through the dullness of the dirt.

I knew that she never met her grandmother, but she wore the river pearl necklace that once belonged to her.

I knew that she loved swimming, and never really talked about how good she was at it.

I knew that she kept the dried petals from the little dolls her mother would make her out of flowers as a child and hung them above her hammock in her family's tent.

I knew that she made her first kill with a bow and arrow when she was 4. And that the tip of that very arrowhead was tied on her song chord to mark the occasion.

I knew that she was worried. Worried about me, about the human boy she called her brother, about her home, and her people, her parents who were still healing from the first war.

But I loved what I didn’t understand. That was my first mistake.

Because my whole life has been about being the older brother. When she gave me the gift of feeling like a child again, I suppose I thought I could leave her like one. 

And I know that sounds stupid. I know I sound stupid. 

It wasn’t immaturity I craved. It was that lightness. The kind that the sun could never provide.

That stupid, stupid boy. If I could grab him and shake him by his shoulders until his brain repositioned itself into the right place, I would.

There was an addicting absurdity to it all. 

Running through the forest with her after dark, whispering her name in the night while my hands traced her spine, leaving lazy, open kisses on her ribcage and spinning her around with her legs caught around my waist. Dragging my fingers along her pulse point. Feeling her breath flicker in the firelight of the stars. I never dared to do anything beyond kissing her and holding her. So perhaps that boy isn’t as stupid as I thought.

I slept with her. Not like that, though. Actually sleeping. The kind where your clothes remained on. The first time it happened was when I stumbled to find her by the creek, where she was weaving a basket for her mother. I was so exhausted from training i collapsed my head into her lap while she stroked my back. 

Sometimes I kissed her neck, the expanse of her throat where I swore I saw heaven hollowed within. I ran my hands over the sweet homage of her thighs. 

There was a freedom with her I felt with no one else. Then the world felt too big, my heart created corners that only fit her shape. When the air became knotted and my breath spilled from my lungs in sporadic bouts of blemished air, she blessed me with a barrier of bliss. I thought I was so deserving of that decompression. I was an idiot to think it wasn’t a privilege. 

Some nights we’d sit on the thickened tree branches of the pandora oak outside the old village.

She’d lean her head on my shoulder and i’d tell her the English names of the constellations my father taught me.

“What’s that one?”

She whispered, pointing with the tip of her finger and tracing the shape of the asterism, eywa knows I couldn’t look away from the stars in her eyes, an opalescence embedded like a sea mirroring the night’s contents, and suddenly I saw two skies. 

“Its called the archer.” I hummed, gently guiding her wrist to place her hand atop the shaft of the bow caught in the cosmos.

“See? There’s her bow, and her arrow, and her body.”

She tilted her head, attempting to see the shape. Her eyes light up when she finds it.

I smile, a warmth spreads within my chest as my enamourment echoes through the dusk.

“My father says some people on earth started calling it a ‘virago’.”

She nods in acknowledgment, glancing between me and the stars.

Those were the nights I hope she can remember. Those are the nights I pray i never forget.

But sometimes the shadows loom instead of live. The world around me started breaking down into fragments that figmented themselves drunk on delirium. Because having my mother’s eyes doesn’t mean i’m free of my father’s gaze. 

I was afraid of control. My second mistake was becoming accustomed to it.

But my chance with that fiery girl is gone. I’ll bury it. So I don’t have to look at it. So no one has to look at it. Because she deserves so much better than to chase fireflies for the rest of her life. 

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the night the sky turned red. 

My father and mother had left for date night. I was home with Lo’ak, Kiri, and Y/n who as babysitting Tuk while her parents went to gather herbs.

We didn’t speak to one another. It was too awkward. I clung to silence like it was a sustenance for my survival. 

Our parents had been gone for a few hours when we saw it. 

A new star surfaced in the sky, tearing through the dark viciously. Sparing nothing in its path of annihilation. 

An unfamiliar sort of fear fell upon Norm and Max’s face as they exited their shack at the sound of commotion. Their smiles faded so fast they might as well have never been there in the first place.

Kiri shrunk away slowly to an unknown place of hiding. As if trying to shield herself from the threatening presence of this bolide.

lo’ak dropped the bracelet he was making, the beads landing on the ground with scattered sounds of clanking and chaos.

Tuk ran to y/n, a panicked descry leaving her as she took refuge in her arms. Y/n held Tuk protectively. Her expression was notated by one of horror.

Me? I froze. The world stopped spinning. The moon refused to shine. The earth had withered away under my feet.

I was dazed as I followed my siblings into our families tent, I remember Norm’s words as he ushered us inside, trying to mask his panic.

“Kids, get inside- c’mon quickly.

Tuk, let’s play a game. Okay? Tuck your knees to your chest and don’t move until I come back.”

The world was falling apart.

And I couldn’t even see my last glimpse of it beyond the cloth quarters of the home I grew up in. That’s how you trap yourself.  You convince yourself your cage is just an illusion. 

When my parents returned home later, Y/n sprinted to them, asking frantically if they had seen her parents return.

“They haven’t yet returned?”

When my mother spoke those words, the air tensed.

I watched helplessly as she ran to her ikran, mounting it with no time to waste.

I reached for her arm, stammering out pleas for her to stay. Stay close to the stars that sent the shadows of the endless dusk desolating any shred of hope. Without them i’d surely loose her in the darkness. Stay in the light, please. Stay where I can see you. Where I know you are safe. Where I know they can’t take another.  Stay where every moment was inscribed to instinct. Where every moment of my life is a piece of a plan. A plot. Every word is scripted. And even if you were never a part of it I can still keep your eyes in my life.

Stay with me. Please. I don’t know what’s out there and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.

She hissed at me with tears in her eyes, shaky hands pushing me away as she mounted Kailo with irascible mannerisms. 

Behind it all was a little girl who just wanted to find her mom and dad.

I envy her. I envy her ability to not cower from the darkness. 

To stand where others couldn't see. 

My father chased after Y/n. Determined to bring her and her parents back in one piece. Promising my mother she wouldn’t loose anyone else she was close too.

But sometimes we can’t keep our promises. 

I waited with my mother and my siblings. 

I watched my mother pray. Clutching my grandmother’s hand close to her chest. Murmuring invocations to the wind.  My mother couldn’t stall away the anxious inquisitiveness of Tuk, complying with her to shut herself away from the sharp helix-scarred sky, victim to fire and ruin. 

“Wait inside, Tuk.”

That’s all anyone would tell her. 

Lo’ak sat coiled in the corner. Staring infront of him as if the air was dissolving into fragments filmed in glass, shattering into pieces.

He was silent. Still. But he was like my father in that way. A master of disassociation. When you stayed so rooted in solitude the world around you ceased its spinning. 

Kiri prayed in my grandmother’s tent. Isolating herself.

What more can you do when what you thought were stories of the past resurrect from devastation?

History was cruel. Our biggest mistake was thinking the future would forget.

Would it forgive? Would it tread this demolition generously? Would it spare my mother from losing a sister for teh second time?  Would it let my father laugh just a bit longer? Let him remain unpunished. Maybe in a world where the heart on his sleeve isn’t in the shape of a shackle. Where the shadows of his past sins remain silent. When ‘sir’ wasn’t a synonym for ‘dad’.

Please.  Let my littlest sister play in the forest after dark again. Chasing winged insects and dancing to heartbeats. Let her feel the solace of safety and the freedom of frolicking in the flower fields without fear of the sky demons. Don’t make her grow up knowing war. Give her a world where I don't have to explain that Dad still loves Lo’ak and me even after yelling at us. 

Don’t take my little brother's light away. Don’t shy him away from me. let me see the spark flicker in his eyes when he would look up at me. Bring back the days of chasing him around and having our heights measured next to each other. Childhood memories of keeping him occupied with stories while he squirmed on my mother's lap, getting his hair rebraided. Back when I was his sibling. Not his shadow. Now I can’t find it when my existence is the pinnacle of excellence that’s dangled over his head. To fall as the burning star while he damns me in the daylight of the sun. Days when my father's words to Lo’ak were filled with tender devotion, and not deadlines and demands and disappointment. Look at him. Please. Don’t turn your attention into a privilege. 

And Kiri. Oh kiri. Please. Don’t twist her story. Don’t write my sister’s mother into the enemy. Don’t make the sleeping body she yearns to touch beyond her hand pressed to cold glass awake in darkness only to say goodbye. The only place solace is found for Kiri, the only place she can hear her voice within the deep forest. Don’t resurrect Grace’s memory and taint it.

Please don’t hurt the girl I’m in love with. Please don’t banish the stars in her sky to the depths of the hollowed and hardened corridors of her heart.  What must I do to protect her? Tell me, and tell me now. I’m running out of time. Do i look her in her eyes and tell her that every breath i take is for her? Every half-note of my heartbeat is a syllable in her name. I know I failed her. I know. And im sorry. I’m so, so sorry. 

I paced around the tent, watching Tuk play with her toys in the corner, waiting for any sign of return. 

When the shadow and the screech of my father’s ikran, the rising sun rushing currents of a blinding white light leaking through the overlay of the trees, crashed into the sounds shaping themselves into shards, slicing through the air.

My father had his arm thrown over y/n’s shoulder, locking her in place against his chest, she crouched on the front of his ikran, shaking and thrashing.

His other hand gripped his ikran saddle like a vice, struggling to keep both him and Y/n upright in flight.

The moment the touch down to the village y/n all but collapses to the ground, slipping out of my fathers grasp.

He curses, jumping off and scrambling to hold her. A low wail leaves y/n as she claws and scratches at her own skin, clutching what looks like the remnants of a songchord in her hand.

No sign of her parents. That only meant the worst.

It hits me like a blow to my chest, creeping up my spine like vines of plants from hell and tying me down to the earth, roots caging me in, the world around me clawing to come inside.

Everything around me blurs. The ground under me shifts with the wind. The patterns reverse and the sound waves reshape themselves behind shadows.

Light is refracted, captured in a dome of reflections. My mother is the first to sprint towards the pair. Her steps slowly traipsed down as she registered the absence of Zensira and Kai’lik.

The sight of Y/n clutching a bloodied song chord shattered any ounce of hope she had.

My mother sobbed into her palm, rushing towards Y/n to grasp at her shoulders, desperately trying to keep her close, as if the sky demons would rip her straight out of her arms.

My grandmother jogs over, trying to cage her daughter in her arms and gradually pull her away, giving Y/n the much-needed space. 

My father has tears in his eyes.

He doesn’t dare let them fall. Not in front of his clan. His children.

My father is a master of disassociation. Confrontation was never a confidant of my fathers. Lock him in a room with him and his own grief and watch him fall apart.

He's angry. Angry at the world. Angry at himself. Angry at this piece of his past he prayed he’d never see again.

Lo’ak drops frantically, taking a place behind y/n and my father, trying to speak to her in hushed tones that are washed out by her cries. Lo’ak isn’t good with these kinds of things. But he cares for her. He struggles with the placement of his hands momentarily, settling to rub her back soothingly.

Tuk pushes past the crowd forming in the distance, and scampering behind me,  gently placing her palm on my leg and tugging on my fingertips.

“What's wrong? Whys’ everyone crying?”

I don’t answer. I can’t answer. I can’t even look at her. I’m still. I’m frozen. I’m useless.

She winces at the sound of more wailing, pushing herself to stand in front of my father.

I know I should speak. Tell Tuk to go back inside. Away from the screaming and the crying. That’s what older siblings do. I feel her small fingers slip away from mine and suddenly my skin feels as if it's unraveling.

I don’t think yesterday existed.

Because just yesterday I saw Y/n and her parents, with Spider and with the clan. Just yesterday the sky was blue. Today it dawns a sickening shade of orange.  The sky dissevered and swallowed it whole before it could even breathe. 

How can it change so fast? Did it slip away from me? Maybe I didn’t hold on to it tight enough. Please, my love. I’m sorry. Can’t you see I’m sorry? Please hold onto me again and I swear I'll never let you go again. 

I look at Y/n again, still trying to pry herself out of my father’s grasp. One hand clutches her forearm and digs and scratches her fingers into the flesh so manically it draws blood. Her other hand clawing at the dirt. She starts to hyperventilate as my father panics.

“Breathe Y/n.  You have to breathe. Please.” My father’s voice is hoarse and desperate. The world is spinning to fast for him meanwhile mine ceases to spin at all. 

Or maybe that’s incorrect. My world was right infront of me. Crying and breathing as if her lungs denied her existence.

Tuk’s whimpering catches his attention, his ears pin down as he grapples with the idea of his youngest baring witness to such tragedy. 

Then those frantic golden eyes that mirror my own focus on me.

“Neteyam! Take your sister inside. Now! go! “

I can’t. I’m stuck. Why am i stuck? Iv’e always been the first to act. The first to speak, to advocate, to defend.

What will happen to my clan? To my family? Can we win again? Will we win again? Are we as strong as we were during the first war?

“Neteyam! Get Tuk and move!”

My fathers voice is drowned by the swirling thoughts in my head.

My father places Y’n beside Lo’ak, who immediately wraps an arm around her to keep her upright.

“Dad!”

Loa’k calls after him as he files towards me. His voice cracks. 

He scoops tuk up with one arm, using his other to grab my arm, dragging us both into the tent, pushing us inside with all the gentleness he could manage.

“Stay with your sisters and your mother. Please.”

He breathes before leaving, returning to Y/n.

My mother is sobbing in the corner, Kiri at her side with tears streaming down her cheeks.

Grandmother tries to calm them both.

“Eywa why? Why has the past come back to us?”

She curls herself into a fetal position as she cries out as if she's in physical pain.

Tuk starts to cry.

The earth is weeping and my family is shattered. The love of my life is left in a starless night sky.

Can the sun shine in the dusk?

✮⋆»»———➤⋆.˚꩜ ˙⋆ ☀︎  ☾✮⋆»»———➤⋆.˚꩜ ˙⋆ ☀︎  ☾✮⋆»»———➤

“If you can’t smell the fletching you aren’t doing it right.”

Y/n smacks my chest for the 8th time that hour. My lessons with her had finally begun, per my father’s orders.

And after thinking about it, i’m grateful my father chose me for this position. so what if I enjoy spending time with her? And I can’t say I despise hearing her make demands and orders and instructions.

Is that weird? Am I weird for that?

She sighed in frustration, staring at me like the hopeless case i was.

“Really? you have these freakishly big arms and no posture.” 

I frown, patting my bicep pitifully.

“They’re called muscles.”

“Then use them. Straighten up.”

She elbows me in the ribs. 

I take a breath, tracing her slightly faded form with my peripheral vision as I prepare to be denied of her essence in my line of sight, even for just a moment as she steps behind me. 

I correct my stance, shooting the arrow as it flies through the woven targets shes created and tied to the tree.

She examines my shot, running her fingers over the painted circle and where my arrow has skewered itself embed. It was perfect. Right at the center.

“Better.”

She affirms, yanking it out of the target and tossing it to my feet.

“We have to practice angles. Its clear you can shoot a bow, quite well at that. But it’s different when you’re transitioning into targets that are at sky-level with you.”

Today, she trains me to become an archer like her and my mother, to learn the skills to eventually shoot down sky demon ships.

I reach behind me to let my bow hang on my back, the string brushing my torso.

“Will the transition take long?”

She shurgs.

“It depends. It’s different from using a bow on foot or on a direhorse, even on ikran from low distances. It’s not like sturmbeast hunting. The rush, the wind, the air, it all screams at you while you shoot from the sky. The last thing you want is to be fumbling around for an arrow while a gunned ship chases you.”

She speaks absentmindedly as she gathers the targets from the tree, untying the  ropeshes used to secure them.

I smile to myself, watching the way her hands work around the intricate knots she’s created.

“I’m a fast learner. I’m sure I’ll catch on.”

She scoffs, looking over her shoulder.

“Don’t shower me with proclamations, I’m confident in your archery skills. It's the change of pace that’ll become an impediment.”

I think sometimes Y/n assumes I harbor this overabundance of cockiness. I don’t. I never have. But i guess that’s what happens when you’re is away from someone for a long time. You forget.

Her gaze explores the thickened grass woven into a makeshift target as she starts to pile them into the big pouch she brought them in. The air around us spreads and forms an exterior of foreign feelings. I don’t reject the atmosphere it provides.

Treading lightly, I slowly take a step towards her.

“You are a good teacher.”

I say matter-of-factly. I’m stalling. I don’t want my time with her to end.

She scoffs, refusing to spare me a glance.

“I’m a terrible teacher, I’m a good shot and I order other warriors around when your father wants me to. People see that and assume my teaching skills are just as good.”

I shrug, leaning against a tree, reaching out to take the sack off her hands for a moment. She gave me it reluctantly. She takes a seat on the tree stump, tossing her head back before looking back at me, waving her hand in a downward motion.

“Sit for a moment. It’s important to rest your muscles after training. There’s nothing worse than straining your shooting arm.”

I huff out a quiet laugh. I sink against the tree across from her. “Well if you insist.”

She shakes her head.

“I don’t. But the cramps you’ll avoid in your biceps arms definitely do.”

I watch as her fingers trace the curvature of the arrowhead, the sun sliced over the ridges in the small objects surface, rounding over the curves and patterns in the stone.

“How would you feel about heading back without me?”

She asks; not even glancing at me as she opens her water flask, taking a few sips out of it and cursing quietky when she tilts the pouch too far back and some water spills down her chin to her neck, the unwelcomed sudden sensation making her shudder.

She hands me the flask, offering some water but all i can do is gawk at her words.

“To high camp? No. We should stay together.”

I shake my head, gently declining her offer of water and muttering a thank you.

It’s her turn to gawk now. Staring at me as if i have three tails.

“I have my bow.”

She gestures to the weapon next to her, the curved wood carved with patterns and bright beads and feathers adorining it.

“I’ll be fine on my own.”

I know she hates beinhg chaperoned or supervised. So i allow the sounds of the forest to symphonize while i devise something to respond with. The sewn sky is torn at the seams as clouds creep by. Something with feathers moves in the distant canopy. 

“Why? Don’t you want to return with me?”

It’s not you. I just don’t want to go home yet.”

“Than who is it?”

She’s quiet for a moment, fidgeting with her songchord to busy her hands.

“Spider.”

That was honestly the last thing I expceted to hear.

By the time Spider could walk-

Well, really, i doubt the guy ever went through a ‘first steps’ phase. He probably just started running. 

By the time he could preform some kind of motion with his legs that incorporated standing up and getting him from one place to another, Y/n’s parents had pretty much accepted him as their child.

That was his ticket to having the full na’vi child experience. He had a songchord, a bow, was taught the history of the clan through stories and songs. He loved them, and mourned them when their time came. Y/n and him have always been close, and since the past tragedy, it’s not hard to say that they’ve fought to keep eachother in their lives. Especially when my parents ushered y/n to live with our family, and leaving spider with norm and max. Because whether others believe spider belongs with our people or not, she’s never known a world where he’s not there. It’s a scale that shouldn’t be tipped. One will surely loose balance without the other.

I blink, sitting up as my head cocks to the side.

“Spider? Why? What did he do?”

IS it wrong for me to assume spider is the one at fault for whatever quarrel is proceeding?

No. At least i don’t think so. I actually think it’s pretty fair.

She groans, running her palms down her face, the skin under her eyes being dragged downwards under her fingertips.

“He’s just so- and then he- and he just- and he-”

She shakes her fists furiously as if shes strangling something invisible.

I wince.

“I don’t think that will improve his current situation with the air on this planet.”

“I’m ready to take the mask and shove it where it won’t see air again.”

“Woah there.”

She sighs roughly, absently throwing a small rock into a bush.

“Why doesn’t he ever think before doing stupid shit?”

“Well the shit wouldn’t be stupid if it was properly considred.”

She mumbles to herself, waving me off.

I place my hand on the stump next to me to shift myself to lean back against the tree further.

“Y/n, I know things can be rough with siblings. Trust me, i know. But-”

“Can i tell you something that will sound horrible?”

My sentence is stifled as she hinders it with her quiet, rueful words.

I fumble for my next words.

“Uh yeah. Yes. yes of course.”

I wave my palm towards her in a stupidly clumsy ‘the floor is yours’ motion.

When someone wants to vent, count on me to turn the atmosphere into one of an addiction confrontation. 

But my eywa, she wants to talk to me about her problems. ME! Not lo’ak, but me!  Does that mean she trusts me?

She looks down, the light spills down through the overbush of the trees, casting a hazy halo upon her figure, golden-crested shadows flirt with her azure skin. The sunlight feels shallow today. Melancholic and hollow. The sun is silenced as it slips behind a cloud. Buried beneath a grey eclipse.

“He’s not one of us. He’s my family but he’s not the same as me, not even the same species. but he wasn’t-” 

She hesitates.

“His people were never suppose to come here. To this planet. He can’t run as fast as us, fall from heights where we can and just come out unscathed, he’s not as big, as strong, as durable and adaptable as us! He’s not a na’vi! And as much as i wish I could make that his reality, I can use all the blue paint in the world and It won’t make him as tall as me. I can’t-.”

Her voice cracks at the endnotes, it’s only noticeable if you listened closely.  it makes my ears pin back, itching to aid this burden.

“I can’t keep drawing circles around him and begging him to stay inside of them.”

Sometimes soulmates aren’t lovers. They’re siblings. Tied at the roots.  Whether they were related by blood or not, they carried a piece of eachother. Even when the world tears them apart, that piece binds that root back to common ground. Energy is only borrowed. And one day, you’re gonna have to give it back.

If i were to loose Tuk, Lo’ak, or Kiri, the energy we’ve shared would circle back to where it started. And that root would retreat back to it’s spiral shape. That’s what life entails at the center of your circle. You would die for your siblings at the end of the day, and if they take the shapes of stars you search for them in the lengths of the sky.

Her tail coils around her ankle, poking at the bracelet that circled around the skin.

“Y/n, we can’t protect them forever.”

She curls herself into a ball, letting her weight drag her to the ground so that she lays bundled, her arms locked around her knees. Groaning and hissing loudly.

“I don’t want to protect him forever i just want him to stop trying to kill himself.”

“I don’t think that’s his intention, Y/n..”

I poke at her back, attempting to push her upwards with my palm so that she doesn’t faceplant in the dirt.

She mumbles, And if I was anything but a foot farther away I probably couldn’t hear her.

“When we were children he was so small… small-brained…And now he's still small, but bigger..but still fucking smaller than me..but he’s older…”

“..and?”

“His brain hasn’t gotten any fucking bigger. I’m going to take up alcoholism.”

“Please don’t.” I sigh, 

“You can’t stop me. I’m going to drink until I forget.”

Oh how beautifully eloquent she is when shes loosing all sense of sanity...

“Y/n, he lives in the same camp as us. You’re going to wake up and remember.”

I rock my knuckles against her spine, still trying to have her body avoid the fresh dirt.

She stares into the cup of her palm. My eyes catches glimpses of the shadows kept sacred in the corridors of the covers that cover her body, the dip of her hips, the drag of her nape, the cinch of her waist, the plush of her thighs and stomach. She’s soft right now. Her muscles aren’t tensed and her stomach isn’t lined.

I’m quiet as i stare at my shins, my fingertips brushing against her other hand.

“Do you remember the other night, when we all talked about scars?”

Her tail flicks, signaling that even if she wasn’t looking at me, i knew she was listening.

“Scars are symbols. They stay with us wherever we go, reminding us of where we’v e been, how we’ve gotten there..how we survived.”

I stare up at the trees, my eyes catching the shapes casting shadows over the leaves.

“Well, I’ve been thinking that some scars don’t appear over time, sometimes we’re born with them.

Her muscles tense and she pensively clutches at her song chord. I almost take it as a sign for me to just shut up. But i can’t. The words just seem to find me.

“You..”

I stare at her. My gaze tracing lines over the patterns imprinted into her back. Somedays i think pieces of her essence are torn from the scars, blemishes, bruises, and slight discolorations that stretch across her skin. Bruises that overlap ultraviolet hues darkened into navy nights, blemishes that I swear are just painstrokes from outer space, shapes imitate cosmic rays and lunar surfaces, opulent nebulae and collisions of stars that would surely cower before her.

She is made out of pieces of the universe.

Salvageable stretches of sunlight. Crystal blue, sun-kissed acquiescence of July. Cherished adventures stained in ink delight

Refusing to wither away even when seasons change and when snow i’ve never seen turns to falling stars. 

Violent sunsets, whispers, and the oceans start to sink. I consider myself equally submerged.

“You are just..so strong. You’ve always been responsible for him. You both have grown up under the same roof, you can find that common ground. You both share that circle. Those scars from your experiences..you both can’t escape that.”

Silence settles between us, my arm drapes over my propped up leg.

“It’s not wrong of you to say he doesn’t belong here. Because there’s truth to that. Our home was never meant for his kind, and maybe it never will be.

But if i know one thing, I know that he belongs with you. You’ve stood on that common ground with him through what might as well have been an earthquake, but you’re still here. He owes you that.”

She shakes her head, sitting up quickly, her words catch in her throat.

“But that’s exactly where i seem trapped. He doesn’t owe me. It’s my job, it’s my own commitment! When my parents were still around i swore to stay by his side.”

“You were no older than 6 when you probably grasped the idea that he was there in your home to take the place of a sibling. Y/n, you didn’t swear anything. I wish you wouldn’t bind yourself to this idea-”

“I’m not binded to anything. I am proud to protect my people.”

“Someone once asked me if i’m so busy protecting everyone else, who protects me.”

She stills. Surprised that i’m quoting her.

When the world becomes a sword, she became a shield.

She purses her lips, tugging on a braid that rests over her shoulder.

“That’s different.”

I laugh. Not because its funny. Because its ironic.

“How? You, me, and two dumb, reckless siblings to look after. Lo’ak and spider aren’t that different. Suppose that means neither are we.”

She leans back, her head roughly resting on the bark.

I take a breath, leaning back with her.

“Letting go of that bind doesn’t mean giving up.” I whispered. Staring up at the sky, watching as it creeped and treaded towards a crepuscular cape.

“I know”

She whispered, leaning her head opposite of my direction to rests on her shoulder.

“But he’s all i have left.”

She rasps, looking downwards once again.

My fingers brush hers. I try to focus my eyes on anything but her. The burnished bronze bark shades of the forest around me grapples with my gaze.

I know she hates pity.

A fleeting fracture, half exposed, and bare. Bones shaking under scared skin stretched over a blanket of shame. I think weakness is her greatest enemy. Vulnerability is nothing but a pallid guise of weakness’ tide. In obdurate grace, She stands elate. I’m nothing more than a shadow in the corner of her storms.

She’s an ocean I fear is too vast to cross. I've let myself drown before. 

“Y/n. I’m so sorry.”

I whisper. But as apologetic as I am, I can’t decide what I’m apologizing for.

Her parents being dead?

Her crippling fear of losing what fragile pieces of her family she had left?

The specters of her lost, an elegy of ceaseless pain. It forces me to remember I'm presumably forgotten, along with the stars and the sky I once promised i’d give her. 

As the sky grew a bit darker. We sat in a silence that danced with serenity.

the clouds like shredded silk, tinged with the delicate hues of a bruise that would never fade.

It was me she trusted in this moment. Not Lo’ak coming in clutch with bad jokes or my father with years of experience I can only pray I’d amount to earn. 

Me. Who’s soul took the shape of a shadow that loomed in the darker corners of her heart.

What did I do to deserve this?

As I look at her now-, Y/n.

The y/n.

the woman who had walked through infernos that would have incinerated lesser souls, whose spirit had been forged in the crucible of war, who bore scars both visible and unseen. Her eyes, shadowed by a thousand skies and golden eclipses, had softened now, their fierce gleam dimmed for a brief moment of vulnerability, her very presence carrying the weight of bereavment.

The sky and I share a flicker of breath, as though it too understood the gravity of the moment.

I want to capture her words with my hands, catch them. 

These words of hers, the ones I can only beg to hear once again, alike the essence of something rare and blackened, with sorrow yet magnificent in its pain. She spoke of battles fought not just against the sky demons, but against creatures that lurked in the recesses of her mind, devouring fragments of her peace. The blood she had spilled is not foreign but it rots all the same.

At the cost of being blunt, it fucking pisses me off. Beyond that if I can ever find the words.

How could they-

No. How could anyone hurt her? 

How could anyone take what they’ve taken from her and continue to reach for what precious circle of family she had left?

How could anyone—any hand—have so defiled such sanctity? faceless figures, cowards. Fighting from far away in the sky ships that stir the wind and attempt poorly to glide upon air that was never even theirs to breathe.  

I want to be the shield that keeps her safe, and at from the storms that sweep her away and leave her with scars.

I don’t want to watch her fight for the rest of my life-

Please. I don’t want her to fight for the rest of hers.

Is this where I have to stay? Is this where I have to wait? 

I am consumed by an ardor so profound it defies the very essence of language.

No. No, I'm done waiting.

I’ve dispensed myself in my mistakes for 3 years. I may never entirely forgive myself for what I’ve done to her, but I refuse to keep drowning myself in it. 

I want to live. Not survive off her faint glances and light touches.

No I want her. I want her back and I want her to be mine.

How could I ever think I could move on? That I could outgrow her? The thought of any other woman in the clan-

No, any other female known to this ground, to want any of them the way I want her, it’s wrong. It’s unnatural. A parallel that threads like a citadel, a monument of sinew and steel, fissures spider webbing beneath My skin, cracks through which light might enter or shatter me under her touch.

And eywa, I’m tired of it. I’m so fucking tired of it. How much longer will I be consumed by this need that cannot be satiated by any other presence other than hers?

I want to hear her laugh again. I want to hold her again. I want to kiss her neck and trace my palms down the curve of her waist and her thighs. I want to hear her call my name breathless into the darkness while I capture her moans with my lips and watch her hair spill through my fingers. 

I want to hold her hand. I want to kiss her until I can’t breathe. I want to feel the weight of her on top of me and under me and her legs wrapped around my waist. 

If she allowed me I would beg her on my knees. I would kiss her ankles up to her hairline and whisper apologies that sound more like worship.  

I want her to pull me away. I want to drown in her.

Can she possibly know? Her absence is not a void but a presence—vast, unbearable, and omnipotent—filling every crevice of thought, every trembling nerve that dares to remember. Her voice lingers in the silence, a phantom melody that unspools endlessly. she might as well be a rope to my wrists, tightening like a noose.

I don’t s resist her.  Even torment is preferable to the sterility of forgetting, to the annihilation of what remains of her in me.

How could she possibly not understand? The things I would do for her?

I would crawl through dirt and dust and call it scared ground if she so much as stepped there. What is love if not worship and what is yearning if not devotion?

Because she’s so beautiful. She’s pretty. She’s gorgeous. She’s perfect. She’s every word I can think of and all the words I’ve yet to learn.

So much so it’s almost otherworldly. i stand before like a penitent before an altar that will never grant me absolution. if this longing is a sickness in my soul, i'm going to cherish it because it's hers. 

Watch as she unmakes me.  Slowly, exquisitely—dismantling my pride, my reason, my very humanity, until nothing remains but the hollow echo of her name. And I  would call that emptiness sacred. 

If anger is what she needs so be it. betray me, despise me, reduce me to carrion before her feet.

Must I weep for gratitude? for even in degradation?  Done.

I will wait.

“I don’t like just waiting here.” The silence that had once reigned was shattered. Unveiling the world anew, pulling the soul from its slumber. I’m shaken awake from my momet of zoning away. It doesn’t take me long too realize it was Y/n’s voice. Well obviously- who else could it have been? the tree?

“Huh? I’m sorry- did you speak?”

She squints at me. Her eyes flicker before she stands to her feet.

“I said I don’t like this waiting. I should have never suggested it. I’m sorry.” 

She brushes herself off before grabbing her bow and the woven bag of targets, slinging her bow to tuck under her arm and the sack over her shoulder. I scramble to my feet, grabbing my own bow and water skin. 

“It was stupid of me to try to avoid this- i’m just gonna talk to spider when i get back.”

She mumbles.

“Oh- wait. Eywa you’re fast.”

I chuckle awkwardly. All she can do is toss me a blank glance over her shoulder. She moved swiftly, not making much if any sound.

I stop infornt of her, reaching out to offer her my free arms to carry the bag.

“Do you need-”

“No. lets get moving. I want to get you back before dark or else your father will have a heart attack scare.”

She cuts me off, swaying past me and onto the path where ouyr ikrans perched somehwre ahead.

“You know-”

I jog behind her, casually steadying myself to match her pace.

“You know my father doesn’t need to know where i am every second of the day.”

She shrugs.

“And yet, he does.”

Touche. 

Brush it off Neteyam.  I mean, how bad would it really be if the woman you were in love with saw you as nothing but a marionette tethered pathetically to his father?

Oh. That sounds worse than i thought.

Easy fix? Right? …Right?

“He’s just looking out for you.”

She enlightens, with a quiet precision, each word a steady beat, unadorned by excess or hesitation.

My whole life i've wanted people to see past the shadow of my father. But now i’m begging her to. 

 Why can’t she see the me that has shaped with my own hands, not inherited or molded by the past. 

I riven between the maddening urge to captivate and the harrowing awareness of my own profound inadequacy. She, an indomitable presence, even though i've known her since she was learning to walk, is still so fascinatingly intimidating. 

“I don’t-”

I stumble over a branch. Was it a branch? It could have been a root or a rock. Whatever it was. I lurch forward before unevenly shifting, then I awkwardly brushed it off, pretending it hadn’t happened.

She stops and stares at me. Painfully unimpressed with my lack of attention to the ground.

I clear my throat, trying not to wince.

“I don’t need him to look after me.”

She shrugs, walking ahead of me without much thought. “Well of course not. Look at how gracefully you coordinated that fall.”

“I didn’t fall.”

“Are you calling me blind.”

“No part of my body other then my feet touched the ground. That’s not a fall. It’s a…stammer.”

I cross my arms, suddenly my gaze finds interest in the bright colors that crowd a herb patch near by.

“Oh and what a beautiful stammer it was.”

She rolls her eyes, effortlessly shifting everything in her arms to only one side as she raises two fingers to her lips and create a whistle sound.

I see a shape of something winged and large in the distance. A cacophony of  colors and  jagged lines, and abstract forms are layered atop one another, intermingling and overlapping in a way that feels both disorienting and captivating

The sounds of flapping wings resonate from afar, an unseen presence demands attention by echoing the sound of it’s arrival. Kailo lands first, followed by rey’sa. 

Kailo was larger than the average ikran. That’s what Norm told us the night after Y/n’s ikinimya.

I still remember that day. Watching her dodge and duck away from the literal jaws of death on the ikran rookery. I saw her, and in that fleeting moment, my soul seemed to abandon me, leaving flesh frozen as I watched her plummet off the cliff side. My heart might as well have been ripped from my chest. It felt as though stricken with some fatal malady, ceased to beat. A dire, unshakable certainty gripped me—that she was gone. as good as dead. That she had slipped from the grasp of light.  

Kailo’s colors seem to pulsate with a tumultuous vibrancy. Bold and garish in their audacity, writhe and clash which burn with an almost sacrilegious intensity, to the shrieking blues and grotesque purple, the hues seem to scream at the beholder, drowning the senses in a discordance of visual tumult. 

 a gnawing sense of impotence. They spill, uncontained, stretching and sprawling, as though in the midst of some violent outpouring of emotion or thought. Jagged, fractured red lines pierce the air, juxtaposed by sweeping curves, both jagged and fluid in their simultaneous grace and aggression.

The spread of red, blue, and purple creates a  furor of colors, intermingling and overlapping in a way that feels both disorienting and captivating.

My eyes, without any conscious volition, as if led by some hidden magnetism, gravitated toward Rey’sa. Her brown, green, and yellow skin clash in a manic strife. The splashes of brown are deep and earthbound. It pushes it’s weight against the lighter, more volatile green, incessant, and vibrant, it twists and coils in unruly shapes, as though struggling to break free from the heavy grasp of the brown. Meanwhile, the yellow flashes like a burst of lightning, crackling with energy.

She shakes her head back in forth in a quick wild nutation before tiltidng her head towards me, a high noted-shrill leaving her as if informing me of her arrival.

I give her neck a few pats, tightening my saddle with one hand while I throw myself to straddle atop, hiking up my leg and shifting in a slight jump.

Y/n doesn’t mount until she secures the targets and her bow in her side saddle, handling it with the utmost care. As if parting with it was akin to severing a vital thread that tied her soul to her body.

There was a quiet dominion everywhere she went. Trailing her steps. In her orbit, the air became sanctified. Her back straight as if someone held a board to it to ensure it never faletered from it’s position.

I mount rey’sa after ensuring everything was fastened. I reach back for my kuru. The movements to connect my kuru to my ikran are so unmistakably ingrained. Practiced and performed to a point of cognitive habituation. 

The moment I see the cords connect, I feel it.

The traverse vast expanse between us thinning into a network that flows effortlessly, a seamless exchange of synapses that make the sound of sensitive reverberations.  It’s an undercurrent of synergistic sensations.

I shake my head to clear up the swift headrush that swept through when making the bond, my vision clearing almost instantly.

I turn to my side, seeing y/n already staring at the sky with a quiet resolve.

“I’m going to talk to him when we get back.”

She looks at her hands, they almost bruise with how tightly she grips the reigns. Her gaze is suffused in a promise that I feel proud to say she only shares with me.

“Good.you two should work things out.”

She nods, shifting, adjusting her legs.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

She shrugs.

“Talking sense into me.”

I laugh. But I don’t mean to. It’s accidental. It echoes between us

“Nothing makes sense when you have stupid reckless people like Lo’ak or spider in your life.”

If only she knew things only ever made sense when I was with her.

₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊

NETEYAM POV; back at high camp..

When we arrived back at high camp, I watched y/n run off to wherever spider was, leaving me alone to return the targets to the supply tent.

I should have told her right there and then. Why didn’t I? 

I linger in my self-pity for only a moment, then steady myself, refocusing on the task at hand. I start putting the targets back and their respective places. Behind me, the faint sound of a new presence disrupts the silence.

 The steps are quiet, as if treading.

“Finally, Lo’ak. Come help me put these away.”

I wave him over without turning my head

“Guess again..”

I jump. In all the year’s iv’e lived with Lo’ak, Iv’e never known him to have a voice so feminine sounding.

I turn, and I feel my breath leave my body in a flicker.

Kyuna stands in front of the tent flap, with one methodical move she uses her finger to tie the drawstring of the flap closed, the sudden lack of light making this whole endeavor even more horrifying.

 her presence lingers, a silken thread weaving through the space between us.

“My eywa, you’re so jumpy, Teyam.”

Here’s a fun fact. No one in the entire clan I’ve been born and raised in, calls me ‘teyam’ other than my siblings and occasionally my mother. The sobriquet came about when Lo’ak was about 3, and had trouble pronouncing “Neteyam”. Net or Teyam was his go-to. Honestly I never understood how hard it was to just push the two together but anyways,

When Kyuna uses its imbued with a sense of familiarity and ease, felt unmerited. A familiarity that hasn’t been earned. Much less deserved.

Is it fair? To say something as simple as a shortened version of my own name to be so intimate?  

My subconscious drive takes the shape of a marionette. Instinctively moving me backwards the split second she steps forward, her chest invading what I’m positive marks the starting point of “personal space.”

It’s almost like my body repulses the idea of touching her in any way that could even immediately be seen as intimate.

“I finally caught you alone. You’re always so busy..”

She makes her fingers mimic a walking motion as they trail up my chest, neck, before tapping my nose.

I clear my throat, grabbing her wrist and gently placing it back at her side.

“Kyuna this doesn’t seem very-“

“Oh shut up! You’re always so worried about everything. Can you ever let loose?”

She laughs, almost manically, trying despairingly to make her constant interruption seem cute or innocent.

”speaking of loose.”

My eyes flicker down to where she hooks a finger under the waistband of my knife, pulling me closer to her. almost trying to pry her way between where the woven strip of fabric keeps my loincloth resting on my hips.

My eyes widen.

“Nope! Okay! That’s just- nope. No. We are not. I’m going to remain clothed. Thank you..”

I push her away by her shoulders this time.

She Rolls her eyes.

“You’re so stiff sometimes”.

Stiff. Interesting choice of words.

As she bats her eyelashes at me and pouts, I can’t decide whether I feel sad or sorry for her. Or both. Is my attention worth all this? Does she think this is attractive?

Unfortunately, I don't think I have the patience to indulge her.

“Kyuna this is not-“

I sigh, running a hand down my face. Frustrated at what part of that incredibly, small brain in her head thinks that this is okay??

“Kyuna you can’t be doing this. I don’t want to be seen as someone who sneaks around with anyone like this.”

“No one has to know.”

“Right! Because nothing is happening here.”

I speak slowly, as if trying to explain to a small child, holding her hands as I place them down at her sides once again.

“I. Don’t. Want. This.”

I reiterate.

She throws her hands up in frustration, groaning loudly.

“Then what do you want, Neteyam? You never tell or do anything that shows it!”

I raise my eyebrow, quietly standing and watching her tantrum.

A part of me does finally feel coerced into pity. Why did she obsess over this? Over me?

“Women throw themselves at you! They practically drool over you and you don’t even blink! It’s like you don’t care.”

She continues.

“Do you think the whole playing “hard to get” and the “I don’t care” facade will last forever? Because I see right through it.” 

She pokes my chest, making me step back once again, my hand behind me resting on the wooden pillar that held the tent up. My fingers anxiously and absently tracing the grooves in the smooth wood.

“There’s something or someone  you want. “

“Kyuna, if you are so fixated on there being someone, do you honestly believe, in your heart, that it’s you?”

“Why cant it be?”

“I’m not saying it can’t be, I'm telling you it’s not!”

“Look at you! You won’t even touch me. You’re probably just shy?”

“I’m ‘shy’ because I wont have sex with you inside this tent? Sure. let's put it that way.”

I turn my back to her, starting to pile up the targets and untie the hanging cord around each one. Maybe if I act like she’s not there, she’ll disappear. 

There's a pulse of silence before i feel a hand on my shoulder, sending a shrilling shudder down my spine.

“Let’s not dance around this Neteyam.”

She snakes to duck underneath me, placing herself to occupy the very small space between me and the wall, her nose nearly touching mine, I feel her breath for only a shred of a second before I flinch the other way.

“You can’t keep running from this.”

“Yes, I can. The question is, will you stop chasing me.”

 "I won't stop chasing what I know belongs to me."

It’s unnerving. How her tone treads that unmistakable subtle possessiveness. That’s how Kyuna works. In her mind, you belong to her whether she realizes it or not. This is how she plays the game. Shifts the board, moves the pieces while you're not looking, and when you turn around, she tries to convince you that it was you who can’t remember what you did with your pieces.

I know where my pieces are. They’re my fucking pieces. Not hers.

“I want you”

She declares.

“No, you want something no one else has.”

I reason.

“No You don’t understand-”

“Something no one else has, but I can’t satisfy that for you-”

Our voices overlap.

“I love you.”

“You love the idea of me.”

Maybe I really do feel sorry for her.

“Can you really think of anyone else in this clan that would be a better wife for you other than me?? They wouldn’t last.”

Nevermind. I’m annoyed again.

“Is it fun? Thinking you’re better than everyone else?”

I query.

“No. Thinking isn’t fun. Knowing is my forte.”

Ah, so she doesn't enjoy thinking. What a shocker.

“Ever since the return of the sky people we’ve been weakened.”

I raise my brow, my face furrowing into something new.

“I don’t follow.”

“Don’t you see it? They only dwell in the past, we’re too afraid to fight the way we used to. We’ve all heard the stories. Our clan used to be ruthless. Feared by others. Now we’re just an afterthought. We’re afraid. But you, once you’re olo’eyktan you could change that, And i could help.”

She speaks, and the sound—that sound—is as if some unfortunate hand struck an untuned instrument, a mere echo of what it could have been. A cruel, discordant note that rends the stillness of the soul.

She is like a child playing a game whose rules she cannot understand, and whose consequences she cannot foresee. But the pain, the pain is real. It is deep, it is sharp, it is unspoken. And yet, she speaks again, and again, with the same ignorance. 

Maybe I'm offended because it was all real to me.

Watching my mother wake up crying in the middle of the night plagued with memories of hometree was real.

Watching the love of my life lose her family because of the sky people’s destruction, that was real.

Standing here right now while they dangle our survival over our heads is real.

“I suggest you quit while you’re stepping ahead, Kyuna, You don’t know what you speak of.”

My former tone vanished, replaced by a gravity that demanded attention.

She looks embarrassed. And why wouldn’t she be?

She stammers, fidgeting with one of her braids.

“I was only- you don’t understand.”

“You’re right. I don’t. Do you think I’m impressed by this?

I don’t know what comes over me. Anger? Frustration? Annoyance.

I take a step closer, than another, until she’s pedaling backwards to remain ahead of me.

“Do you think this is attractive? Impressive? Do you think this is the kind of thing I yearn for at night? Stupidity? Ignorance? Do you think I get off on this? On you? Because I can promise you I don't.”

She gulps.

My father once told me that fear controls people.

I vowed to never fall victim to that again. Controlling others. I did it once and I lost the love of my life.

But maybe, control was potential. So was power. And if I have to shape my shadow into something scary and unapologetic to cast away such intrusive presences like hers? I’d justify it.

“Neteyam, I didn’t mean-“

She reaches for my arm, and I’m beyond tired of her touching me.

“Get out, Kyuna. I’m dismissing you.”

“But-“

“Out. Now.”

She stands in silence before turning to leave.

I feel my chest tighten its knot of air I didn’t even know was there until she’s out of my sight.

I don’t like pulling rank on people. But am I so terrible if I say that felt good??

I take a breath, steadying myself. Whatever just happened I could unpack later.

Right now, I allowed myself to be busy with the task at hand.

My sense of peace vanished once again when I saw a figure enter the tent out of the corner of my eye.

Can’t she take a hint?

“For the love of eywa!”

I groan.

“I’m not going to have sex with you! What do you want from me!? Just keep it  in your fucking loincloth and-“

I turn around to see my father staring at me in horror.

“Dad?“

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Y/ns Pov:

you shouldn’t be nervous to talk to someone you’ve  known my whole entire life and yet a more insidious, gnawing sensation sears at the back of your mind.

Maybe it’s guilt you feel. because the last time you spoke you brought up the past we both wish we could forget.

It was an unspoken rule between us. Not to bring up your mother. 

It was never a spoken pact.  Youboth knew all too well what happened with grief was left untouched. It hardens into something immutable.

 you care about each other too much to put yourselves through that pain again.

You think the sky is sinking. The darker it became the more it seemed to cave downward. Maybe if you climbed a tree you could brush your fingertips against the stars and hear them whisper words of comfort.

You were a warrior. A “lieutenant” as Jake would call you.  You had an invitingly strange familiarity to challenges. 

Why did the feeling you had right now akin itself to the one you have before a raid?

Every step you take feels closer to the fire. 

You grabbed the metal railing and hoisted yourself up to the wooden platform, ignoring the stairs made for human sized feet. 

Ducking under the small door you felt the back of your neck brush the  cool metal.

No matter how many times you’ve been in the shack, entering it always felt like a fever dream. The white and gray that washed the walls were such a huge contrast to the natural shades that hued pandora’s grounds. It had a way of making you feel empty. Like the crowded space could seep into a pit dwelling portal.

You treaded carefully, minding your anxiously swishing tail and praying that it wouldn’t be the cause of a beaker or something irreplaceable shattering.

Max and norm come into view.  They sit at a table hunched over a flat board that sits between them. The board has little white and black boxes and pieces that all differ in size and shape. They scatter across the board, stilling in their place, waiting to be moved.

Norm’s eyes light up as he laughs manically, grabbing a black piece by the curved top and shifting it to one of the white pieces, knocking it over with a swift flick and taking the spot the white piece once inhabited.

“Have fun doing my dishes for a week.”

“You’ve been spending too much time in your avatar, you've finally lost it. You know I'm winning, right?

“Don’t even think for one second you haven’t been shoving pieces in your pocket every time I get up for coffee.”

Max scoffs.

“You’re a caffeine addict.”

“And you’re a cheater!”

“Those are fighting words, I’d watch myself.”

“Then empty your pockets! Come on! If you have nothing to hide.”

“What’s in a man’s lab coat is his own damn business!”

You stand awkwardly, exaggerating a cough to emphasize your presence.

Their heads snap towards you and every trace of frustration and theatrical betrayal vanish.

“Oh hey Kiddo.”

Norm waves, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. Max follows behind him, cracking his back with a groan before smiling at you with a warm familiarity.

You stand awkwardly greeting the two with respectful nods.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Oh no, never, You caught us at a good time.”

Max waves away the notion of apology from the air, 

“To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Norm leans against the wall, grabbing a spare mask made for avatars and reaching out his hand to offer it to you.

You shake your hand, gently pushing the mask away.

“I’m not staying long.Is spider around?”

“He's outside.”

The three of you jump a bit at the sounds of footsteps above you, thick metallic thuds echo from the outside.

“Oh. well, now he’s up..side?” Norm gestures to the roof where spider’s evident movement was heard.

“Oh son of a- he’s gonna tear his stitches. That’s like the 5th time in the last 4 days.”

Max groaned, running to grab a med kit that sat on a table in the corner.

“I_..I can go let him know you guys don’t want him climbing?”

Your tail thwacks your shoulder blades. An exemplary allude of nervousness.

Norm nods, folding up the black and white squared board that laid flat on the table.

“That’d be great, he listens to you.”

You exited the shack without words, looking up at the slightly slanted roof and metal poles that curved embed with the shape. You jumped, hoisting yourself up over the awkward overhang before sitting atop it. You paused when two dangling pale legs came into view, you crawled over the next curve and were met with Spider’s back.

You froze for a moment. 

Because it’s just now you realize that you thought the anticipation was what intimidated you. Just the walk from your ikran to the shack itself like like an unendruable trek towards something unmapped. Uncharted.

Your clan glorified you because they cannot see the contrast within recklessness and bravery.

To everyone around you, you were never afraid of the unknown. Dancing where others struggled to stand on uneven ground. Danger was an adventure. Not an intimidation. In a sky devoid of light you never feared the dark. 

The wait was never what you should have feared. The uncertainty, in the silent torment of your thoughts was a comfort you’ve taken forgranted.

Because now you have to face him. 

You can’t pretend to be made of stone forever. Eventually you’ll break like glass. 

You reach your hand out, tapping his shoulders.

“Spider.”

His name comes out hoarse. The two syllables sound as if they had to pry thesmelves from the depths of your throat.

He turns around, and you can’t get yourself to meet his eyes. They settle in his lap, and you see his knife and a sharpening tool resting there.

“Hey.”

He whispered, turning around to face you. He places the knife and sharpening tool in a pouch resting on his hip.

There's an awkward silence as you both turn to face the edge of the mountain where only a few marui’s scattered and stopped where the natural stone barrier of highcamp enclosed you all inside. 

Your breath hitches as your eyes follow two na’vi children running around playing a game, tackling each other and screeching.

And for a moment, for a fragment of a second, you swear you see you and spider.

“Norm and Max don’t want you up here.”

You say it unintentionally. But you needed something to fill the space between you. The silence demanded too much of your attention.

Spider glances over at you, swinging his feet absentmindedly.

“Yeah..I know. I just-”

He tugs at his locs lightly.

“I don’t know. I can’t think with my feet on the ground.”

Really? You never would have guessed.

“I think we should talk.”

“About what?”

You look at him, wondering if he’s forgotten your argument.

He squints at you before his gaze settles on the ground.

“Oh. That.”

“Did you forget.”

He shook his head.

“No. I tried though.”

Silence strikes again. Suffocating the expanse of what pressed between you two. It’s an oppressive hum of the unendurable truth that is heavy and refuses to remain unacknowledged. 

“I’m sorry, I was an asshole. I know you were just worried and-”

He paused.

“No. Let’s start with this. 

Y/n you’re the strongest person I know.

You’re intelligent and badass and a warrior. And I love that about you. But I remember a time where you’re life didn’t revolve around this war. And sometimes I feel like- part of why you put yourself into that position to protect me…I don’t want you going out and risking you’re life because I’m weak and small and-“

“You’re not weak.”

You cut him off. The edge of your voice makd his hands stop their fidgeting.

“You’re not weak. You’re just not like us.”

You expect hi to flinch or scowl when you say that but he does nothing of the sort. There’s a sadness behind his eyes shadowed by the long ignored truth.

You sigh, staring back up at the dark sky.

“We can paint as many layers and shades of blue as we can and it still can’t hide what’s underneath.”

“Yeah. A sky demon.”

He mumbles quietly.

“A product of mistakes that someone else made.”

You correct.

He's silent, he stares ahead.

“That’s one way of putting it.”

You nod, swaying your feet in a rhythm that matches his own.

“If we both were to climb a tree and throw ourselves off the highest branches, who would have a better chance of lesser injury. You, or me?”

Spider is quiet in his response. Almost embarrassed.

“You.”

“Which one of us can run faster?”

He rolls his eyes subtly, shoving you softly with his palm.

“You.”

“Who has more knowledge about the sky demons and their weaknesses.”

“Me?”

You both pause . You smile and nudge him back.

“That doesn’t make either of us stronger or weaker from the other. We’re different. But there is no difference that can divide what has grown between us, spider.”

He finally looks at you.

“I never should have brought up sa’nok. It was wrong.”

You whispered

For a moment you both slip to the center of your spiral. The center that was slowly unraveling to reveal a pain you both could wish never existed.

“But that is our common ground. We were raised under the same roof, in the same family.”

He leans his head on your shoulder, and the motion makes your still, your spine stiffening.

It’s not unwelcomed. Just unexpected. 

“When they died I thought that they would separate us.”

Pain and fear is heard in his voice. And Jake says you and Lo’ak are a trouble making duo? You’ve clearly never met pain and fear. Two wretched companions that gnaw at the marrow of every shred of hope. It's the shadow that stalks even in the most mundane of moments. 

“They vouched for me. Even when the rest of the clan said I didn't belong with a family.”

“I don't care what the rest of the clan thinks.”

You affirm.

Spider blinks at you. Seemingly shocked.

“But they’re your people.”

“So are you!”

You toss your head back and groan, taking your frustrations out on the sky.

“Why does everyone else get to tell me who I love? Who do I choose to protect and value as my own?”

Spider is quiet. He goes to answer, but nothing comes out.

“I don’t know.” he whispers. 

“I don’t know either. Listen, no one gets to tell us that we aren’t family. Family isn’t always who you share blood with. 

I may not have lived with you continuously throughout my life, but I would die for you at the end of the day. You’re my family because I remember playing with you in the river and chasing you down the stream. You’re my brother because I remember staying beside you even when other children said you being in my home meant that we shared your ‘human germs’.”

He stares at you. You can’t  decipher what he’s thinking.

“Why should anyone else decide what you are to me?”

“Neytiri can.”

Spider interjects. Her name isn’t resentful in his voice, it’s rather longing for something distant. Something he’s never had.

You look down. Regretful.

“I can’t change the way she thinks about humans. She’s just afraid, and shes protective of her family-”

“I know that. But she’s also protective of you. And I don’t hate you for it. But-”

He stops. Staring down at his hands as if they are stained with something you can’t see.

“But what?”

You inquire gently, like trying to coax a shy child to speak.

“I’m gonna sound like such an asshole if I say it.”

You snort. 

“It’s okay. I felt the same way earlier.”

He takes a breath.

“It’s not fair. They were parents to both of us. But you're the one taken in after they die. They would never do that to me. Because I'm not a na’vi.”

“Spider, I know it feels like that but they aren’t abandoning you for some sort of vengeance-

My- our mother and neytiri were like sisters. Jake and our parents were close. They promised that if anything happened to either of them they would step up for me.”

“No. They promised to step up to take any children she had under their wing.”

“Spider…”

“I’m not mad at you. It’s just frustrating. You get off at the easy lane while I'm going 90 miles to nothin’ off a cliff.”

And there it was again. That sting.

“Easy lane? Did you think this, any of this was easy for me? Having neytiri and mo’at braid my hair the way our mother would? Having jake accidentally call me “Zensira” for the first few months by accident? That day we had to leave the old village and come to high camp, the day I walked past the home we grew up in for a final time? Saying a last goodbye to the place where every moment of laughter, every memory, every fragment of joy I've known in my life feel so empty? So dark and cold?”

Spider shakes his head frantically.

“No! No of course not, we both lost something that day. I remember it too..It’s just..They’re there for you. You know?”

“I'm here for you.”

You reiterate. Almost desperate. At this moment you felt like a spider and you were onlookers into a mirror where he refused to acknowledge that you could both see your reflection upon the same surface.

“Iv’e been here. I’m staying here. So is Lo’ak, and kiri, tuk, norm, and max-”

You stop mid sentence as you remember what was scractching at the back of your brain.

“Oh by the way, max told me to tell you to stop tearing your stitches.”

You both are quiet. And then you laugh. You both laugh hard. And you nor him really know why.

As the laughter dies down he rests his head on your shoulder, whispering into the air.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

What were you both sorry for? Everything. Nothing. Somethings. Because this is where you both surrender. Even while you both remain tainted with the bitter aftertaste of unresolved tension, you withdrew, but not in peace—no, it was more like the calm that precedes a storm, an uneasy lull where the heart strains against its own quietude.

You both were stronger than what or whoever came between you. That was a fact.

₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊

*emerges from my cave*

Hehe..hi…long time no see, huh?

Now before you throw the pitchforks at me, I can explain my delay of this chapter. For those of you who have read my bio, you already know I’m a film student. In the next few weeks me and a group of my classmates are going to start shooting a film entirely directed, produced, and written by us. I’m the art director and getting ready to travel (we’re filming in another location) has made me so busy…on another note I had to rewrite this chapter almost 5 times because it never came out right until now.

But, allow us to move on a happier note…

 Happy Valentine’s Day and Black history month guys! I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter as much as I did. 

Neteyam and Y/n have finally started they’re training sessions, so buckle up for more tension to come. And FINALLY! Spider and y/n are back on speaking terms. Phew. (This will not be the last argument they have in this story 😚)  

Writing for Kyuna is so funny. Like, take a hint please shawty. He don’t want you. Ugh. It's desperation for me. And we left off on a cliffhanger with Jake and Neteyam? That will be an interesting conversation for next chapter..hm..ANYWAYSSS I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!

btw for my arcane watchers, do neteyam and y/n give you guys ekko and jinx vibes??

₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆☾⁺☀︎₊₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊

TAGLIST!

@fluorynn (THIS ONE’S FOR YOU FYNE SHYTE)

@mntx666

@isnt-itstrange @thebestrouge

@bay7let

@fairuzwhat

@jackiehollanderr

@6423btw

@satesatesate2009

@OstargirlO

@heavenlysstuff

@dayyzlol

@iheartamajiki

@fluorynn

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@strongheartneteyam

@hungrynessforfics

@ravenxx888

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@notsaelty

@eywaite 

@love7buggy

I love you all! Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Hi if your still up for requests; would it be ok if I request yandere destiny one with a Yaoguai reader who’s on the run from the celestial since the celestials planning to turn her into a pair of immortal pills

(maybe reader is part of the spider fan , or maybe she has a connection to the white bone demon or maybe reader is a human who just made the celestials mad 👀)

Hcs please 🙏

Long and slender legs that run between the tight bush, arrows and spears that whipped through the air, a heavy breath from the nostrils.

The hunt began weeks ago, but now the pursuers were able to catch on to their prey. A deer at first sight, but once the eyes were able to look closer, its mane was covered in silver gleam, the stars of the midnight sky in its eyes. The hunter had freed their dogs, trying to catch the deer now closer than ever to their Blade.

But the deer was fast; its legs were made to run and to own the pavement of the forest, but a frantic creature can take itself to its own demise. The wall of the mountain stopped its escape; the solid rock did not show any help for a climb, and bigger rocks stopped the passage around it.

The deer squished itself on the wall, fearing the sound of the horses and the barking of the dogs. 

It seemed like, despite the fear, it knew that running wasn't anymore an option, and accepting seemed almost inevitable. Yet, the sound changed, the barking grew more aggressive, the shouts were focused on something else, and the sound of spears clashed with the sound of metal and wood. 

The scream stopped; the dog dismissed or emitted some long whines before falling into silence. Then nothing...the Woods came back to its regular silence. The deer looked at the leaves and the branches, expecting everything...except for a monkey.

A young monkey, armed with a staff, walked towards the deer, looking at him with a glint of interest. What a peculiar creature, he was thinking; never had he seen a deer colored like the night. And what he couldn't expect more was that for the deer to suddenly get engulfed in a silver smoker and reappear with a humanoid form.

"Thank you, dear One! Oh, thank you so much!" 

And while the creature held his hands, thanking him from the bottom of her heart, he couldn't suppress the blushes on his face.

///

Your life was perfect.

Once, you were a mere deer, born to survive and procreate, nothing more and nothing less. But one day something awoke in you, a thought, a desire to be more, to do more.

You started to cultivate yourself until, after seeing more things than you were supposed to see, you woke up...changed. Your mantle was now of the color of the Moon that shone between the Misty Sky, and your eyes were like the many nights that had passed over your head. You were meant to be noticed.

A Celestial found you, and you shared your progress in your cultivation, and, maybe noticing a certain talent, he had taken you under his wing. 

You've taken your human form after a long period in the Celestial realm; you were beyond happiness, not just because you were able to achieve something that just a few did, but because you were able to escape from your destiny to be more than you were supposed to be! 

But you learned too much; you found out a secret that Heaven didn't want you to know. They were rational at first, trying to advocate with your silence, offering you a prestigious position!

They wanted to buy your compliance and your silence; you refused... and they didn't take it too well. 

They wanted to reduce you to a pill, to silence you, but you sniffed the danger and fled! 

While telling your story to the monkey, you couldn't hold your tears, so afraid and so lonely, without your kind and without a soul that could help you...

"I will," he said, with a confidence known only to his kind.

"But... I'll put you in danger... I can't..."

"Heaven doesn't like me ALREADY, and I can't LET them keep up with their schemes."

And with that, a new chapter begins for you... If you only could sniff the danger here too.

///

Living on the mountain was like going back to your old life, only for this one to be quite different. It wasn't just because you were there as a fugitive, but mostly because the mokey presence seemed like an almost constant now.

Every day you woke up only to find him around; the entire day was made to be at his side, taking care of chores around the village, and the last face you could see before closing your door was his own. You found it quite strange, odd even, but his kindeness and his protectiveness made you dismiss the fact that, since the beginning, no other monkey, especially the older ones, were allowed to stay close to you.

You weren't bothered; you weren't accustomed to monkeys way of living, and you thought that was normal behavior. And by the way, it wasn't always like that! He did make a few of his younger sisters watch over you, especially when he was leaving for his mission. 

They were always so caring and tender with you, calling you older sister and spending their days with you. They didn't like the idea of letting you roam off by yourself; they always found a new way to drag you back to the Mountain or distract you from your own agenda.

You never batted an eye, never suspected anything, and you never even noticed their way to try to persuade you to never leave their home, to stay there with them and their beloved older brother.

You never questioned his own actions; maybe it was normal around them. To hug each other so tightly, to linger a little too much close to you, to whisper things so near to your ears that your skin shivered.

His hands, always searching for yours, always sending his gaze on every move. To pry into every detail of your life, just to know you, even the more personal ones. You, in your own way, decided to indulge him; he was your savior. After all, a thing that even he never failed to remind you.

He saved you, gave you protection, food, and somewhere you could be protected like you deserved. It was almost an obligation to be kind and accept every one of those small demands that weren't even a big deal.

It was normal, right?

///

His breath was stuck in his throat, his eyes were wide open, and his pupils were as small as the head of a nail. His tail was as rigid as the staff he held in his hand, yet an imperceptible movement could be seen from it, such was the grip that was strong. It seemed like the weapon sensed the desire of its owner to smash the brain of the celestial that was holding you and...kissing you...

Your eyes shined with a gleam that he had never seen before when he was the one in front of her, and a smile that he swore was the most treasurable gift that you ever made.

"Monkey! Please let me introduce to you my future spouse!"

Did you mention about your spouse before? Maybe, maybe he just ignored your tale,

Like many times you had told him what made you uncomfortable, and he always was able to cross it. Maybe he hoped that, without the presence of that immortal around you, you would maybe change your mind and realize that the one with whom you wanted to spend your life wasn't part of the court.

Everything could be a good explanation, but in the meantime he was forced to see you embrace them like you never embrace anyone before, kissing their temples in tears of joy for your reunion, their hands in your hair, so close to you... The monkey couldn't stand it, but he couldn't take away his gaze either, imaging he was entangled in your arms.

That celestial presented themselves in all elegance; their gratitude was like water in their mouth, spilling in vigor for the happiness to find their future bride in good health and safe from the court clutches. But the monkey couldn't care less; how could he even listen when his mind was occupied with so many thoughts?

Why are they here now? Where were they when you needed them most? When you were on the run, with dogs and a soldier at your back. They wanted to transform you into a pill. What if that was a trap?! What if they weren't there to take you to safety but back there?!

No, the monkey thought; he won't let that happen. He wanted to protect you, not like that scum that professes to be your future spouse! He was there to help you and protect you; he did it before he was willing to do it again! Yes, it would be painful. It's clear that they had fooled you quite well, but if he had seen through it, he would not fail you!

And while his mind found every possible excuse it could, his staff spoke for him.

///

Your scream echoed in the mountain; blood spilled like a river, on the green grass and on his hands.

They were dead; their head was long gone. They were dead.

"NOOO! MY LOVE! MY BELOVED NO!" You ran toward the body; your hand clinged to what remained, hoping to feel a sign of life, everything... but their chest was still, and so was their heart.

The monkey looked at your face, tears running like raindrops on that body; the light of the sun made them like pure gold. You were beautiful; even in tears, you were a gift of the skies. Those eyes made of pure lapislazuli looked at you, shining more than ever.

"W...why? ....Why?! I trusted you; how could you?"

"They didn't love you. They left you alone. They wanted to bring you back!"

"How could you say that?!" You screamed in pain. "You killed them in cold blood; they just wanted to protect me like you!"

"No!" He roared; his voice silenced you in fear. A glint in his eyes, it was worse than the one that the wolves had during their hunt. His hands grasped you, holding you down, blood covering your white robes; you were like a bride now.

"I PROTECTED YOU! I DID! BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, MOR ETHEY COULD EVEN DO! I WOULD DO EVERYTHING FOR YOU!"

His hand left your shoulder, reaching for your legs. A shiver of panick made you struggle more, but his hand was solid rock.

"I would die for you. KILL FOR YOU! I'll take care of you; do everything to keep you here with me."

"Stop! You're hurting me! Monkey you-"

"EVERYTHING!"

A crack silenced you, then your voice broke the silence of the mounatin once more.

///

He did keep his promise; he did make everything in his power to make you stay.

The leg that you lost was bartered for Cuschion so soft that it could even be taken for a cloud; he was always there, caring for you and trading the wounds that you inflicted yourself in your attempts to escape. You can't go far with one leg, even in your deer form.

Sometime, especially at night when his arms are like snakes around you, you wonder if being a pill for another celestial wouldn't be so bad.

[trainsdragons]

Hiccup was finding it difficult to stand up straight. He felt a bit like some invisible net had risen up around him and was trying to choke him.

The witch was a spider, spinning her story-web through the room, weaving it in and out of the Vikings' ears like smoke. And he was part of that story, a story that he felt up until then, like his boat The Hopeful Puffin, had been turning round in random circles, but in fact might have a purpose, a pattern that he had not previously seen or understood.

For Hiccup had Grimbeard's second-best sword hidden in his scabbard, Grimbeard's smashed ticking-thing tucked into his waistcoat, a rectangular Roman shield with a dent squashed in it by Dogsbreath the Duhbrain in his right hand, an arrow from America, the land-that-does-not-exist, sitting in his quiver, the key-that-opens-all-locks hanging from his belt, half a ruby heart's stone in the bracelet round his arm, a toothless dragon flying above him...

The King's Lost Things.

Impossible... thought Hiccup. Impossible.. I found all of these things by accident! I wasn't even looking for thems...

“There are no accidents,” said the witch grimly, as if Hiccup had spoken aloud.

— Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Excellinor the Witch, The Prophecy of Grimbeard The Ghastly, “How To Train Your Dragon: How To Steal a Dragon’s Sword” Book 9 (by Cressida Cowell)

[nilsavatar]

DAY 23 - BITING

Parings: Neteyam x Fem!human

PART 2, PART 3, PART 4

Genre/Warnings: NSFW/MDNI +18, no use of Y/N, SMUT, violence (Neteyam almost killed Spider’s sister), biting (tasting of blood, marking, possessing behavior), P in V, manhangling, oral (f receiving), fingering, praising, cursing, pet names (muntxa-muntxate, yawne, mate, yawntu, yawntutsyìp, baby, tawtute), feral Neteyam (he gets intoxicated by a plant), friends to lovers, edging, breeding kink ((as requested by the lovely @layla2-49 Hope you'll like it, darling), rough, overstimulation, fluff, ANGST. All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: It is the panopyra flowering season, and Celeste is assigned to collect samples of the strange plant. On her way, she meets Neteyam who offers to accompany her albeit with some hesitation. Panopyra are known to create hallucinogenic effects on those who stand too close to them and to ignite the mating instinct. In the presence of a human, he can rest assured it will have no effect, right?

Word Count: 5,5k

Masterlist - Request a fic

If Spider could be summed up in a sentence, it would be said he was like a stray cat; always around. With his playful and at times intrusive manner, he'd adopted himself into the Omatikaya, winning over their hearts.

But Celeste?

As much as they were siblings — twins — the two were polar opposites in every way imaginable, like day and night. Spider was sunny, energetic, almost impossible to contain, and thrill-seeking. For him, being in contact with people was as vital as breathing. Celeste was a reserved and private person despite her curious nature. Interested in the village's happenings, but never overstepped her boundaries, only getting involved when required.

The sun and the moon.

When they were together, the guy's light was so blinding to eclipse her in his shadow. Perhaps that was the reason why today, on a rare occasion she went out alone into the forest to collect samples, Neteyam struggled to recognize her. His arrow's tip was well aimed at the back of her head, waiting for a misstep, a suspicious movement to justify piercing her skull. Maybe, if he hadn't been alone as well, if Lo'ak had been there with him as planned, he wouldn't have risked murdering the life of Spider's little sister. Unlike him, Lo’ak and Kiri were at home at the lab, in constant contact with the scientists and the girl. On the other hand, it wasn't easy for Neteyam to carve out time to unwind and have fun. Not when the weight of his clan's future leaned on his shoulders, and on his head hung the Damocles blade of the older brother. Presumably, the last he had really spent time with her were still children, before he began the grueling journey as the next olo'eyktan in line.

Let's thank the electronic whistle of the throat-comm she wore around her neck if he stopped his hand; on the other side, he recognized Norm's unmistakable calm timbre. “Be there soon. Just need to collect the last sample you asked for.” “Got it, but be safe. Stay close to the edge of the woods and don't turn off the tracker, OK? If you're lost or in danger, call Jake right away.” “I grew up in this forest. Chill out.” “You grew up right by this forest,” he corrected. Celeste rolled her eyes, both annoyed and unimpressed, tired of hearing the same recommendations over and over again. Yet, she avoided comment or complaint, aware it would only lengthen that torment. Just as she reassured the man and turned around, the words died in her throat, cut off by a high-pitched shriek that ripped through the air. “Cel! What's going on?!” Not over three feet away from her, a man, a young male Na'vi who must have been stalking her up to that moment, stood there, in all his glory, staring down at her. Indecipherable gaze and bow well in view. With slow, measured steps, he approached her, never breaking eye contact. Celeste was trembling more and more with every inch of distance the native consumed, her heart drumming frantically. It seemed about to explode in her chest. The blood resounded straight in her ears, deafening her; her saliva dried up, and a sudden chill took over her entire body. She was terrified, to say the least. Yet, in the lucidity of those brief seconds of horror, she noted one thing. A strand of beads woven into the young man's songocord. The same one the twins wore on their wrists. “N-neteyam?” At the uncertain sound of his name, in lips parted in an amused grimace. “You scared me half to death! Geez!” Better to avoid telling her he was about to kill her for real. “False alarm, Norm. It's just Neteyam.”

Just Neteyam. Although, in all likelihood, Celeste would have used the exact definition had any of his relatives stood before her, he didn't like the sound of it for one bit. He wasn't just Neteyam.

“Phew, you almost gave me a heart attack.” Yeah, tell me about it… “I feel way better now that you have someone with you. Hey, kid!” “Hi, Norm,” he pressed on the girl's communicator. Close, too close. The trail of his skin stunned her. Since when had Neteyam's smell become so... so good? Since when had he become like this? Tall, muscular, toned. His hair, much longer than she recalled, crossed far past the shoulder blades' line, grazing half his back. Where had that hint of round cheeks of yesteryear gone? His face was defined and masculine. Sharp cheekbones cut the contours of his visage down to his chin.

“The tawtsngal (panopyra - sky cup), then.” “No need to trouble yourself. I know the route. Besides—.” Celeste fell silent under his glare. Did she actually think he would leave her in the forest at the mercy of predators? He was already alarmed none of the AVTR Program was with her. “It's flower season,” he said like there was a darker meaning. “We're gathering some stem samples just for that, to examine the bioluminescent receptors. To figure out how their glow interacts with the environment. Fauna seems to get a little lovey-dovey around those things,” she giggled.

And not just them, he would've liked to retort, reluctant to get close to the plant at specifically that time of year.

“That's why I gotta come with you, no question asked. Panopyra blooming coincides with some species mating season. Animals go crazy and get extra aggressive around the plants. It's like they get in a trance. What was your plan if you came across an animal in heat? This could be lethal even for us Na'vi.”

Now that he'd thrown that frightening possibility in her face, she felt foolish for not having thought of it sooner. She could be so naive, even though she knew the dangers that lurked in every limb of the lush greenery. All deadly to a tiny alien being like her. “Stay close to me,” he said in a peremptory tone as he cleared a passage through the dense network of shrubs. A sort of command that irritated her beyond belief. However, what bothered her even more was realizing she wasn't irritated at all. The unfamiliar note that tainted his voice, making it scratchy and an octave deeper, went straight to her abdomen; where she felt slight persistent flutters tickling her belly. Like many butterflies flapping their wings in a swirl.

Another characteristic to add to the list of missed things during the years away, holed up within the human outpost's aseptic walls. When the boyish huskiness had yielded to the incumbent adult tonality. A full-bodied texture, soft and even a little dark, resonated in his throat in an enveloping musicality like a warm blanket. Yet one that knew how to mess with her head. She felt the pressing need to explain herself, to take the scientists' side. For yes, as much as the lab concentrated a handful of the brightest minds on Earth, in some regards, their genius made them fearfully ingenuous; they got an almost childlike confidence. As if the research spirit, to always go one step further than the acknowledged, silenced the inclination of self-preservation. Blind and unable to conceive of the existence of danger. Wasn't that also part of their charm, though? People who still looked at the world with the wonder of their inner child.

Celeste supposed she looked just like that in Neteyam's eyes: a baby.

“It was me who pushed for it.” “This is an avatar job,” he stoned sternly, “And why were you alone to begin with? How come you didn't ask one of us to come with you? Someone to keep you safe.” He gritted his teeth, “Ha! You're even fucking unarmed.” She had never seen him so heated, which made her hesitant to respond. “Hm... these plants are close to the lab, so I thought—.” “You thought? Going into the forest unescorted and defenseless. You call it thinking?” His look was fierce, burning, and untamable, it pinned her to her spot. “No, you haven't put any thought into it. The lab is located in the farthest corner of the clan's territory, right on the border with neighboring clans. Imagine if you stumbled upon a total stranger in my place. You're lucky I didn't hurt you, Celeste!” Anguished filled his voice.

She was lucky he didn't kill her.

Where was all that anger coming from? He hadn't felt this way when he'd crossed her shortly before, regardless of the way. Something had clicked the instant she'd told him he didn't need to go with her. That sentence did hit a nerve. Was she really so unwise as to ignore what lay behind tall trees and in thick bushes? Even Spider, despite being all too prone to let Lo'ak influence get the better of him, dared not challenge the forest.

Or maybe it was a consequence of that unfounded sense of rejection that had made his heart sink?

She didn't want him there.

Well, why should she? They barely knew each other by now. And for that, Neteyam would always blame himself; he had left her to her own devices. Though aware of her reluctant nature, and her need for constant prodding, he'd stopped trying to bring her out of her shell at some point. I'll see her tomorrow. We can watch a movie if she's not up for coming to the village.Tomorrow I'll take her to the clearing. Nah, we're skipping that, going to the waterfall. Yeah, I'm sure she gonna love it.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. A tomorrow that never happened.

Time had passed anyway, and now he stood before a young woman with whom he had no common ground, nothing to hold to apart from the fond memory of a feeling that once bound them together. With whom his initial reaction was to scold her, his own detested paternalistic attitude surfacing. The forever babysitter.

Great job, Neteyam, really. Congrats, he gave himself a sarcastic tongue-lashing.

“I felt like going out.” The whisper possessed the disarming impact of a shout, hinting at an unspoken longing between the words. “Sorry,” he said, halting his steps, “I shouldn't have.” Against all logic, she mustered a smile for him, but it appeared more strained and pained than heartfelt. “Thanks.” Neteyam cast a quizzical look her way, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. His mistreatment still stung, like a slap across the face. Why thanking him? “For caring about me.”

Although locals considered the panopyra to be at the extreme of a plant, it actually didn't approach any taxonomic concept of the same. Somewhere in between plants, animals, and fungi. Because of its sensory tissues and saprophytic lifestyle, scientists classified this species as a zoopantae. Its shape resembled a jellyfish and represented an evolutionary lineage close to a primitive form of nervous system. As an epiphyte, it grew attached to the branches of trees via tentacle-like outgrowths, with which it formed a symbiotic strategy. A curious feature was it grew upside down, transforming its body into a sort of cup, from which natives collected dew and mist to make a nutritious, nourishing drink, and the motive of its Na'vi name. But that wasn't its only use; the vine-like stems were strong and flexible, perfect for making nets, traps, and woven objects of any kind. Furthermore, the phosphorescent tips lured in unsuspecting prey with their faint electrical signals, yet they appeared to serve a purpose beyond that. The latter caught the attention of the research team. The sensory cells seemed to have an aphrodisiac effect during flowering when the spores fluttered in the air. Young Na'vi frequently wore them while searching for a mate.

Did that truly reflect the reality, though? Did panopyra alter hormones so strongly that it led to a state of mental instability? Or was it pure chance that animals displayed exceptionally unusual behaviour in the presence of the plant while facing heat?

The plan was to gather samples, find the source of the bioluminescence, synthesize it, and conduct field trials. Celeste never imagined that arriving at the site during the bloom height accompanied by a Na'vi man would cause her to go straight to the experiments. Nor did she herself word become the lab rat.

The zooplantae structure grew near Utraya Mokri (Tree of Voices); a sacred place to the Omatikaya, to which they weren't normally allowed access. A rule they had never dared to evade, even as children, and the girl was quite impressed with Neteyam's idea. Other colonies were nearby, she suggested, but the young man argued that their location ventured too far into the dense forest. Eclipse was upon them; the sunset's warm orange light colored everything the dying sun could reach. Night was looming - the time of day when predators were at their busiest. Neteyam would never purposely endanger her if he could avert it. He was a pragmatic man, of innate wisdom for his age, always opting for the most favorable outcomes scenario. He would worry later about the consequences of violating the purity of this place (assuming anyone found out). As if coming there at that particular time of the year wasn't equally reckless, if not more so. However, Celeste was human. Nothing should have taken place, right? Just indigenous species were subjected to the hypnotic effect of panopyra, so on her, it wouldn't have resulted in any behavioral changes. And without a potential mate, reflexively Neteyam could consider himself safe.

Right? To his misfortune, he would find out the hard way.

If only scientists had consulted the clan, they would have their answer by now, but he had learned from an early age that confirmation from them was not enough. Humans had to have proof, tangible and repeated demonstration of a phenomenon through the scientific method. Opinion formulated on empirical basis was not reliable; they had to thumb their noses at it. And the two of them were going to rub all their noses in it!

Neteyam watched her at arm’s length as she took notes in her haphazard handwriting alongside pen sketches. Attentive eyes never left her slender figure except to check their surroundings, ears flicking at every little rustle or distant call. When he looked back at her for the umpteenth time, Celeste was squatting in front of a budding panopyra whose stems she was prodding with her pen. Despite the new model mask, her senses were not sharpened enough to fully feel the fragrance the plant was releasing with every slightest touch. Her weak eyesight could not see how the spore dust clung to her, unlike him. And that detail would have been easy to ignore, except that it accentuated the delicious scent of her skin even more.

It was powdery, sensual, and velvety, with the central notes of peach combined with citrus, centifolia, and jasmine. But the enchantment occurred in the mysterious background of her perfume; where the spices, cinnamon, amber, and subtle hint of underbrush blended with her epidermis. She felt stuffy, but the trail of the lab that lingered on her was also part of what the woman was all about.

Just a little more. Celeste had almost finished jamming the tip of the last stem into the slide. Just a little more and they would be gone. He could start breathing again. Even a small distance weakened the intensity of the plant's influence. He could have held on, except…

“Shit!” moaned the girl in a ragged sigh as she shook her left hand. Neteyam’s already flaring senses snapped and without registering the movement, he was on her. Her hand, whose wrist he was clutching, a palm away from his face. He inhaled so eagerly, Neteyam, that for a moment she feared the skin would peel off her fingers, which were sprinkled with viscous nectar. His nostrils flared and his mouth twisted into an ecstatic smile from which his canines sprouted, longer and sharper than they had ever seemed.

She dared not breathe a word, Celeste, as the Na’vi tugged her wrist higher and his nose took up her arm to the crook of her neck, where his hot breath gave her goosebumps.

“T-teyam,” the tone was hesitant, but the nickname sounded like an invitation. His eyelids, which had remained closed up to that point, snapped shut, revealing two impossibly gigantic eyes. Na’vi eyes had always made some impression on her. So big and round. They reminded those of lemurs. But now, wide apart at their largest, a little protruding and out of proportion, with the pupil reduced to a dot and so yellow as to glow, they had something sinister. The twin orbs stared at her with the sly insistence of a tarsier; they seemed to peer into her soul, and Celeste was astonished to feel fascination rather than revulsion or fear.

Then, all of a sudden, the pupils widened until they covered the iris almost entirely, and there the chills preyed on her whole body, and her heart beat wildly fast. “Muntxa (mate),” was the only word that eluded his dry lips; the cavernous, grave voice rose from his throat in the beginning of a roar. Celeste squeaked as he towered over her under his weight, the turf making a soft bed. Neteyam’s hands ran all over her body as he searched for access to her clothing. His tail rolled possessively over one of her thighs. He rubbed his chin against her trapeze with the stubbornness of a cat marking its territory. And that was what he was doing. He was releasing his wake so that other males would stay away from her.

She was his.

Normally, a Na’vi male would have been satisfied with that, but not Neteyam. Not when rivals included humans as well. And especially not in a hallucinogenic state. He would leave nothing to chance; in fact, he bit her, slowly but sufficiently for his tongue to be stained with the taste of her blood, and sucked greedily where a female of his species would have a particular gland. An extra scruple to warn even those fools enough to dare to ignore tsaheylu. The moan of pain that rose from Celeste’s lips was like music to his ears. “My tawtute’s so delicate. My fragile little mate.”

He repeated that phrase again, and again, and again. The word muntxate became a litany that stunned her. She felt soft in his muscular arms; Neteyam could have picked her up with a spoon. She barely felt the tickle of the wafer-thin white strands that snaked under her clothes and ran up her body to the nape.

The roots of the Tree of Voices.

Suddenly, her mind became incredibly alert. She could feel... everything. The strength of the tree’s mighty roots anchoring themselves in the ground, the sap flowing through the leaves in the same rhythm as the blood in her veins. The deep connection bordering on the supernatural that she felt with the surrounding nature was indescribable. And, more surprisingly, she could breathe Pandora’s air without feeling asphyxiated by its toxic texture. Yet she didn’t feel complete. Something was still missing. Something that might have seemed infinitesimal in the immense network that connected all things together, but for the reality reduced to her person was much more. Imposing. That was everything.

Neteyam.

Celeste opened her eyes, and everything seemed to stop. No longer the rustle of leaves or the buzz of twilight animals. The forest, the sky, the distinction between day and night, light and dark. All vanished. Only Neteyam existed. The warmth of his body, the steadiness in his gaze, the gentleness of his voice that rang in her ears, although he had not uttered a word.

They stared at each other for a long time. She confused, he enraptured. A wide smile crossed his face from side to side, and his eye sockets shone as if he were about to cry as he caressed her cheek and kissed her with a newfound gentleness. She had never seen him smile like that, which made her heartbeat quicken more than the kiss itself. His kisses were caressing, engaging. They guided her as if they were dancing, as if they were trying to teach her the steps of a fast, but also languid and sentimental waltz. Celeste recognized Neteyam’s true soul there, despite his aggression.

Ma’yawne, she heard him say, though without speaking. How could she when their lips were still clinging to each other in a cuddle that was getting hotter and hotter? The rhythm with which they mingled pressed in unison with the speed of his thoughts, of his sensations pouring into her as if they were her own.

He slid more on top of her, pinning her to the ground with a voracious kiss as he trudged to remove her shoes. His fingers quarreled with the laces, then went up her calf, her knee, her pelvis, until there was nothing left to separate them. He inhaled her pleasant fragrance and immediately felt different, more vigorous. The innate and almost animalistic recognition that this was his female, the member of his own species to which he was predestined. But how was that possible?

Sucking the breath from her lungs, his wet kisses lingered on her lips, letting the desire to burrow into her skin and be taken creep ever stronger. They were bathed in a cloud of spores that blurred his vision, but he didn’t need his sight to know where Celeste’s warm irises were. He could feel them searching for him in the haze, wandering over his face and crossing to his own.

This makes no sense, she thought. You are Na’vi; he laid a hand on her chest, Your heart is Na’vi. Their mouths didn’t come off for a second. I shouldn’t be feeling all this. Feeling you.

One of his hands slipped until he found his braid and lifted it in front of her. Celeste followed it in length until her gaze landed where the tips of his hair revealed the nerves of his tswin. A myriad of emotions followed on her face.

Bewilderment. Surprise. Awareness. And finally… Embarrassment.

His kuru was connected to the tubular outgrowth, anchoring to her nape. The ultimate intimacy. Ripples of light spread around them, two atokirina dancing together in the air.

Nawna Sa’nok accepted you as her daughter. His eyes were luminous, honest, infinitely deep. I am with you now, Cel. We are mated for life.

He laid his head down, and her arms enfolded him. They started exploring each other with sparkling eyes. Neteyam went to his knees and stared at her with trembling anticipation. Celeste just nodded, looking at him with eyes full of meaning. Their mouths found themselves again, with even more passion, overwhelming frustration, almost fury. She clung to his forearms as if it were worth her life; she wouldn’t let him go. Arching her back, she clung to him as she stroked the stripes on his back and shoulders, then intertwined her fingers in his hair when Neteyam moved his lips to cover every inch of skin to her intimacy.

And so he tasted her. Sensual and tender, his thumbs caressing her asscheeks as he slowly slid his tongue into her womanhood to get a better taste. His tongue and the way it pressed against her walls made her push her head against the moss and let him explore her further. A small tingle in her lower abdomen told her how much she wanted him, how much she needed his touch, craved it.

“So soft,” Neteyam murmured against her skin, kissing and squeezing the fat of her thigh. She relished in the way his mouth sucked at her skin, leaving marks that would last for days.  He giggled and began to draw circles around her cunt, watching Celeste squirm beneath him. Her only thoughts were how desperately she wanted to ride his smug face. And his ability to know exactly what she was thinking was shaking. Tsaheylu, baby. He tilted his head to look at her flushed expression. Her breath caught as she expected him to fuck her with his tongue, already a whimpering mess, and he hadn’t even started yet. Ride my face. His demanding tone only added to her excitement and the speed of her heartbeat. Celeste moved back and forth on his tongue as he watched her with hooded eyes, moaning at her taste. She grabbed his hair with both hands and picked up the pace, disengaging herself and waiting for the rush to hit. The intense sensation in her stomach revealed its formidable power. “Oh fuck,” she whimpered, throwing her head back as she continued to pleasure herself on top of his big mouth. “T-teyam—. I’m about to cum!” An animalistic growl was all she got in return. His fingers plunged into her thighs, trying to steady himself as she lost her mind against him. “Oh-oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit. Cumming!” It drained her of all energy, leaving her limp in his arms. A whine of his name echoed through the air as he licked a long strip down her folds to her core, which, thanks to the bond, went straight to his cock. And so a surge of courage came over him as he inserted a digit into her sex, enjoying the little gasp she gave as he cupped it tightly in his hand.

“Gonna let me breed your tight pussy, yawntu?” Another moan, this time coming from somewhere deep within. “Gonna carry my kids in that tiny belly of yours?” So that was the person he became in the darkness of his hut when he could be his true self with no filter. Her cheeks turned red. “T-that can’t happen, Tey. Different species can't get pregnant with each other.” “The Great Mother would make it possible. We’re meant to be.” He rubbed his still-clothed cock against her heat, massaging her clit. “Now, say it. Are you up for starting a family with me? Carry on my lineage? Say you want me to fill you up ’til your tummy swell with my heirs.”  “I-I…” “You? C’mon, open that pretty mouth of yours and tell me.” He didn’t stop to rub on her, he was driving her mad. “Y-yes! Gimme your cum, gimme your babies, gimme everything, Teyam!”  “At your command.” He tore off her thin clothes with one hand, shredding everything in one go, and threw her back onto the moss. Then he removed his tewng. His eyes never left her, growing darker by the second. The band of the hunting knife was plastered to his sculpted chest, so sturdy, drawn by hard work. Soon, every layer that separated them was gone.

For goodness’ sake, Celeste’s eyes seemed to fall out of their sockets. Neteyam was huge.

“It will never fit.” He let go of her legs to give her a hard, sloppy kiss, pulling her lower lip between his canines, a move that sent waves of glee throughout her whole body and the bond.  “Everything will be fine. Just trust me, yawntutsyìp.” He used his fingers to gently pull her lips apart, catching a glimpse of her wet cunt. Celeste shuddered at his touch as he moved his thumb over her swollen clit. She sighed his name as his leaky tip probed against her ring. He moved it along her swollen clit, still feeling her swollen folds throbbing from her orgasm. He pushed in with a hiss and her mouth fell wide open from the stretch, his cock ready to tear her apart. “Wiya (damn), so fuckin’ tight,” he threw his head back, grip tightening around the back of her knees as he worked his way into her. He smirked as he watched his length disappear inside her clenching walls, his hips beginning to move. “There you go, scarfing it down.” The human girl bit down on her lip when his tip pushed against her G-spot.

Celeste raised herself up just enough on her elbows to watch the point where their bodies connected, to see his gigantic dick disappear and reappear, disappear and reappear, wondering how his fragile little body could accommodate it so well, amazed at the bulge inside her belly. Her lips could be bleeding from how hard she bit them, her eyebrows knitted together. Desperate whimpers were the only sounds she could manage as his thrusts became so heavy she was sure she could feel him in her very core. His eyes were on fire, locked with hers. Enchanting. Rough hands went to the back of her neck, interlocking his fingers behind it, holding it in place as he rutted inside her. “We’re really meant to be. Shaped for each other so perfectly,” her folds squeezed him in after each sentence. He spoke with mirth; he was enjoying the way she was falling apart for him. 

She couldn’t tell what came over her, but when she reached to grab him by his shoulders and pull him with all her strength on top of her, she sank her nails as hard as she could into his cerulean flesh, and then bit. Hard. Neteyam wailed from the pain; her teeth sharper than he ever thought. But the pain, mixed with pleasure, sent him over the moon.  He switched positions in a flash; Celeste was now on top of him as he held her in place. “Do it again. Bite me.” He took her by the nape of her delicate head against the column of his neck, turning just enough to expose himself to her. “Bite me. Right here,” he pointed, where below was the mating gland. Neteyam encouraged her by driving his hips upwards into her core, making her cry out; he just hit the spot that could make the human girl lose it.

She applied pressure to his neck, feeling it pulsate under her lips, and he started moving again, rushing his cock inside. “Don’t be afraid. Bite me with all you got.” Chomping down on the flesh with all her might, Neteyam’s jaw ticked in response, and the coppery taste of blood wet her tongue. “Y-yeah, yawne. Mark me like you own me.” His voice strained, shaky even, overwhelmed by just how much pleasure it was giving them both, with Neteyam thrusting as rough as he could. “Ma’ lor muntxate (my beautiful mate).” She put her entire weight into the bite that was chomping his trapeze, her mind flying out of her head as she felt him reaching his peak.

Too much. His cock was opening her too rapidly, and Celeste couldn’t even sit straight anymore. "T-tey, I can't hang on for much longer." Pushing her onto the moss, and sliding right back into her gummy walls, he pinned both her wrists over her head, slamming himself inside her so deeply, it felt like he wanted to rip her apart. “Just a little bit, ma’tawtute. Almost there. Hold out for me.” His thrusts sped up to the point her whole frame bounced on the solid ground, whining and closing her eyes shut, orgasm approaching with full force. “Yes, yawne, just like that. You’re so good to me. Taking all of me so well.” 

Those praises pushed her over the edge, and soon she realized she was screaming his name and squirting all around him, while he was still hammering his own into her cervix. His hips lost control as he painted her walls with his warm cum, bawling from the strength of his climax. He didn’t stop even when Celeste was sure he’d given her everything he had to give, filling her to the brim with his load and continuing to slowly rock his hips into her overstimulated cunt.

After a moment, he looked down, his expression turning sorrowful, realizing what the intoxication had caused him to do, now that its hallucinogenic effects were wearing off.  “Cel, are you okay?” A tired nod was all she managed, still so out of it to concentrate on anything else but the sensation of his cum dripping down her tights. “I’m so, so sorry. What I did—.” She shushed him by laying a finger on his lips. “That was amazing. You are amazing. Whatever triggered this, it allowed me to look inside your heart and there was no will to force me to do anything.”

It was so bizarre how the same person who had just minutes before fucked her into oblivion was now staring at her with the most intense, loving eyes, his topaz eyes tugging at her heartstrings. “Nga yawne lu oer (I love you).”  “Nga yawne lu oer nìteng (I love you too).” 

The happiness that simple words brought to him was impossible to contain, as Neteyam laid on his side to cradle her in his arms. He whispered words of adoration and gentle praise in her ear, and it was this that caused Celeste to drift off into a much-needed sleep.

A whole new life awaiting.

Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!!

[@neteyamssyulang sorry I didn't you right away, I was so eager to post that I forgot😅]

[faeriichaii]

Could I request a Legolas x Elf Reader .

Were the Reader is a apart of the guard along with him and taruiel . The reader and Legolas grew up together .

The reader goes out on patrol with a group to kill the spiders that were getting too close to Mirkwood borders but as the weather turns sour as the group returns but Legolas notices the reader isn't with them and sets out to find the reader

Stormy Patrol ~ Legolas x Elf!Reader

A/N: Ohhh that's cute!! I really hate spiders (well I mean if they don't hurt me I won't hurt them tbh) funfact but I was dressed as an elf yesterday and like idk this story made me feel as if I was there as well and like saw everything happen haha I kinda wrote it while I was pretty tired so idk how it turned out hahaha But yeah I hope you enjoy the story!!

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: fluff ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 1.5k࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Meleth Nin ~ My Love ࿐ྂ

Summary: Tauriel and you were out on patrol without Legolas. But a storm takes you by surprise, resulting in you getting lost in the dark forest.

Placing a few arrows into your quiver, you got ready to go on patrol with Tauriel and Legolas. The three of you have known each other since childhood, constantly meeting up and playing with each other. And the bond between you only grew as time passed. So did also your feelings for Legolas, which merged from merely friendly feelings, to your heart beating faster as soon as your eyes meet. “Are you ready to go out (Y/N)?” Tauriel asked you, as she stood in the doorway. Her bow was in her hand, while her quiver was strung across her back.

“Yes.” Taking your own weapons, you followed her through the door and out into the garden of the palace. “Isn’t Legolas going to join us?” You ask her. A little chuckle left her, as she gently smiled at you. She knew about your fondness towards the prince. It was very obvious to her as your behaviour began to change subtly so she once asked you about it and you told her everything. Even the doubts you had that he would reciprocate the feelings.

“You should tell him sometime.” She suddenly said, as the both of you began to meet up with a few other guards. A sigh left your lips. “I want to, but I do not wish to risk our friendship over some silly feelings that will pass eventually.” “But you don’t even know what he feels. Have you ever considered, that he might be in love with you? I see how he looks at you.” You tilt your head to the side at her words. “What do you mean?” “The prince looks at you as if you were his world. How come you don’t notice that?” Tauriel asks you.

Warmth spread across your face, as you looked ahead at the trees of Mirkwood. “I absolutely have no idea what you are talking about.” She rolled her eyes at your dismissal, before standing in front of the group of guards. “We will now enter Mirkwood. Everyone, please remain in formation and remember all the training sessions if we end up under any kind of attack.” After her speech, she takes the spot beside you and together you enter the forest.

Cold air seeps through the layers of your clothes, making you shiver as you wandered through Mirkwood. “Legolas had to attend a very important meeting with the king.” Tauriel broke the comfortable silence between the both of you. “Do you know what the meeting was about?” She shrugged her shoulders at your question. “Probably something about the upcoming festival.” You knew that the festival was in a few days and you even got yourself a few new garments for the occasion. You even got some accessories for your hair. “Are you going to attend the festivities?” “I was thinking about it but-“ Tauriel suddenly stopped talking, as she heard the sound of some twigs snapping close by.

Instantly, everyone got their weapons ready and got into formation. Your fingers tightly held onto your bow, as you made sure to properly align the arrow. Suddenly, a few spiders jumped through the bushes. Firing the arrows, you made sure that they couldn’t get the chance to take anyone of you down. Slowly rain began to pour down, as your patrol group took down spider after spider. However, it seemed like there were more than you expected. A guard close to you got himself stuck in one of the webs. Quickly taking out the daggers, you sliced him free, before launching the sharp object at another one of the spiders.

The rain got heavier, making it almost impossible to see the enemies in front of you. Stumbling you look for Tauriel. Spotting her further away, you shoot an arrow at the spider in front of her, making her turn to you. “I think we should retreat.” You shout at her, the rain almost swallowing your words. She nodded at you, before signing everyone to get back towards the castle grounds.

Swiftly you were thrown to the ground by a force on your back. You kicked with your legs and wriggled around, until the thing was thrown off of you. Taking your dagger into your hand you sliced through it, before quickly standing up and running away from the spiders. Stumbling through the woods, you searched for Tauriel and the other guards, but you couldn’t find them. The rain was pouring down heavily around you, as thunder clapped through the sky. Panick slowly began to settle in your heart. You didn’t know where you were and you lost all of your group members. Being alone in Mirkwood during a storm is one of the things you have been warned about as a child. In general, being alone in this forest is something that was not recommended. Of course, you had to memorize your way around the area at some point, but this did not make it any less dangerous. Especially during such weather.

A lightning bolt lit up the dark sky. You spun around in circles, as you continued to pass through trees. The rain began to lessen up which made you feel a little more hopeful about your situation. Another thunder shook through the forest, making you flinch in the process. There need to be some kind of shelter somewhere around here. Even the palace grounds could not be that far off. Looking around, you spot a dark silhouette in the distance. You squint your eyes, as you watch them begin to approach you. Your grip around your daggers tightened, not knowing if the person is a friend or fiend. That is until you spot his white-blonde hair.

“(Y/N)!” Legolas quickly approached you. His hair was slightly damp, which lead you to believe that he must not have been outside for long. He quickly wrapped his arms around your drenched body, before dragging you towards the familiar building. “What happened? Why weren’t you with the others?” “A spider tackled me to the ground and I just lost my group.” His arm around you tightened, as he pulled you closer toward his warm body. Once inside, he handed you a warm fluffy blanket, before ordering you to take a seat by the fireplace.

“I just am glad that Tauriel immediately came to me and explained the situation.” A soft smile graced his lips. Shivering slightly, you scoot closer towards him for warmth. “I apologize my prince. I did not mean to worry you in any kind of way.” Your eyes were casted down, highly focused on your fingers that slowly began to gain a healthy colour once more. Legolas fingers gently lifted your face up to his. “It is okay Meleth Nin. I just am so glad to know that you are safe once more.”

A blush dusted your cheeks, as the endearment he just muttered echoed inside your head. Meleth Nin. Never had he called you that before. “I wanted to tell you that during the festivities, but I think now would be a better timing to confess.” “Confess?” You tilted your head to the side, as you stared into his eyes. They always remind you of stars or jewels. The way they shine so brightly when he talks to you. Legolas suddenly laid his hand against your cold cheek, making you lean into his touch.

“Confess my love to you. I have loved you since ages but I did not know how to tell you that. I was worried about how you would react and how this would change the relationship we had.” His thumb wiped away a water droplet that fell from your hair. “I was worried as Tauriel arrived without you. She explained what happened and I immediately went outside to search for you. But during that time, I realized that I had to tell you about my feelings. I wanted to wait until the festival to make it somewhat more romantic, but I just can’t wait this long.”

Smiling at him, you put your hands on each side of his face. “I love you Legolas. I have loved you so long and I even constantly told Tauriel about it.” A chuckle left his lips, before he placed them upon yours. Warmth spread through your entire body, as you pulled him closer to you. His lips were warm and soft. Exactly like you always have imagined. It felt as if you were kissed by the sun. Gentle and warm. Pulling away, the both of you smiled at each other for a moment, before Legolas decided to stand up. His hand was stretched out for you. Taking it, you stood up beside him. “How about you change out of your wet clothes and afterwards I can braid your hair?” You giggled at his proposition. “I think that sounds like the perfect plan, but only if you allow me to braid your hair as well my prince.” He gave your knuckles a gentle kiss. “Of course, anything you wish for Meleth Nin.”

[paintbrushnebula]

Ghostflower Headcanons Pt 2

Gwen is forgetful when it comes to practicing self care/attending doctors appointments, picking up prescription medicine, booking doctors appointments. She complains how unnecessary it is because she's a spider person but Miles nags her a lot for her to take care of her health regardless. He's really on top of her practicing self care.

Miles and Gwen's first kiss happens like, when they're late 16 (Miles) and 17 (Gwen) yrs old. It happened when they were bidding each other goodbye for the night after a long fight or smth, Gwen was leaving out Miles' window via wall crawling in costume. Then Miles called her back to say something, forgot what he was gonna say, they then kinda just linger there making small talk that turns into really touching words shared between them. before either of them know it they're like. an inch away from a kiss when Gwen chickens out and insists that Miles ask Rio for permission for her to kiss him. He relents and texts Rio for permission. She says it's fine. Then they kiss. Gwen always leaves out the whole "asking for permission" part whenever they tell the story of their first kiss.

Miles is a really big gift-giver. He loves loves LOVES gifting Gwen all these little things like this studded plaid bag that reminded him of her, or a cool gothic choker, stuff he knows that's her style of wear. Also like these random dumb things every once in a while like a home-made keychain of Moo Dang or. or this thing--

Gwen started calling Miles "stringbean" at some point and he hates it

Gwen isn't allowed to call Miles her special "Bambi" nickname for him in front of Hobie

They're both very touchy-feely people but Gwen got very apprehensive about being touchy with Miles in front of his parents when they first started dating, fearing making Rio and Jeff upset or uncomfortable if she was touchy with him in front of them. Like, she wouldn't hold his hand or hug him or anything if Jeff and Rio were around. Miles wouldn't take well to the sudden lack of physical affection, like he notices something's off but doesn't know what it is, and would respond by getting touchy himself, like trying to hold her hand or cuddle, and she wouldn't pull away from the touch, but he knows she's uncomfortable for some reason, and decides to cut it out so as not to make her uncomfortable. So it's get to the point where Miles would start wondering if Gwen was acting this way because she was upset with him. Now, this doesn't end up getting dramatic or blowing up into an argument or anything, it'd just be that eventually he'd ask her what's up and she'd come clean about her concerns and they'd resolve things. Like emotionally intelligent people. Simple ^_^

Gwen often shortens her "Bambi" nickname for Miles to "Bambz."

Miles leaves secret little grafiti messages of love around New York in Gwen's dimension--like a heart with "M + G" in it with a Cupid arrow through it on a lamp post, or some other lovey dovey message in a random alley.

Miles has had a lot of trouble sleeping for a long time now as evidenced in canon, but is out like a light whenever he sleeps next to Gwen. Whenever they cuddle he always falls asleep first.

[the-kr8tor]

This is the fancier potioneer I know! Congrats for the 1 year lovie 💕

May I request some cardamom with elder berries in a heart shaped bottle (and a hint of baby's breath)? Hobie and fem!Reader going back a couple years at their daughter's school party that happens to have an elegant mail at display for the high-school sweethearts 🥹 feel free to decide who sents who a letter! I can just imagine Billie and Ramona going giggles watching their parents fall in love all over again!

Potion coming right up just for you!!! Thank you for requesting bleaky! 🩷

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is mentioned taller than her though), CW food mentions, Dad au, twin au, Billie and Ramona au, Dad! Hobie, Mom! Reader, older! Hobie, FLUFF!

Katy's 1 year celebration 🎉

Excited screams and the smell of cotton candy greets you as you enter the twins' high school. You still can't believe that they're already in their freshman year when it felt like it was just yesterday you were teaching them how to tie their own shoes. Now they know that and more. You're incredibly proud of them as you weave through the crowd, seeing their familiar silhouette in their booth. Students and teachers passing by, holding snacks and treats from the nearby food stalls. A few parents are scattered here and there, they're probably here for the same reason as you, to support their kids.

Your smile gets wider and wider as you see their pink and red booth that is covered in glitter and hundreds of hearts. Sure enough, when you get close to the line, Billie and Ramona look at you simultaneously. Their grins identical, both inheriting their dad's adorable dimples that you adore so much.

“Mum!” Billie screeches, wildly waving at you. She's clad in a full blown cupid outfit, dressed in your old, or how she puts it ‘vintage’ white with pink accents leather jacket. The wide legged hot pink pants that she begged you to buy for her fits her perfectly, she even sewed pink hearts all around it to emphasize that she is cupid, and cupid is her. “Skip the line!” Beckoning you over, she acts as if she's shooting her pink spray painted toy bow and arrow at you.

“Don't shoot at mum!” Mona scolds her sister like she had actually aimed a real weapon at you. Instead of her sister fully dressed for the part, Mona's outfit isn't as loud. She had burrowed Hobie's old cherry red leather jacket, still clad in hundreds of pins, and spikes around the shoulders. You had bought her a top at the same time you bought Billie her pants, it has hearts embroidered on it, all in rainbow colours, fluffy and in 3d. Her eyes are in the same sparkly eyeshadow that Billie has, dusted with vibrant pink and ruby.

You walk over to their table, it's littered with pink scented papers and envelopes. There's a basket of candied roses nestled under Billie's arm with a few letters tied around the stem. The entire booth is chaotic, both familiar and unfamiliar faces are helping out in their mail booth. Mona is in the front counter while Billie stands on the side, beckoning people over to their booth.

“You made it!” Billie happily envelopes you in a hug, gogo boots thumping on the ground. She smells oddly like your perfume.

“I couldn't miss it, Bee!” You pat her back to release you, yet she still clings to you like she's ten years old even though she has gotten way taller than you and her own sister. “What time is the big dance number?”

“At one pm, mum.” Mona says, busy and occupied as she tends to customers.

“Not even a hug, Mon?”

She looks up at you briefly, puckering her lips and making kissing noises. Teenagers. “Sorry, mum, I'll hug you in a minute once Thena comes back.”

“Who's Thena?” You ask the still clinging Billie. “Shouldn't you help your sister?” You glance towards the frantic Mona, but she's composed, getting the rhythm of everything. She takes the cash, gives them the stationary, and then points them towards a more befuddled spectacled boy who looks like he's about to collapse from pressure.

Billie takes one look at Mona and then back towards the boy, then to you. “Nah, they've got it.” You furrow your brows at your daughter. “Trust me, when Mon mon’s in the zone nothin’ can stop her. She's a well oiled machine who has kicked me in the shin twice when I tried to help.”

“You were not helpin’!” Mona adds, “we're filled with messages! Go start deliverin’, Billie!”

“Oop,” Billie chuckles, “Full first name, I think she's mad mad.” She whispers to you. “I'm waiting for dad, Ramona!” Teasing, her sister gives her the stink eye. Billie in reply sticks her tongue out, to which Mona shakes her head at. “Where's dad anyway? I wanna show him my bow and arrow!”

“Parking, he's having a tough time finding a spot.” You answer, picking a stray eyelash off her sparkly cheek. “He'll be here, don't worry. And he has the camera fully charged so he doesn't miss a second of your dance.”

Billie giggles, Mona smiles at the conversation. “It's not just us dancin’, mum, it's the whole school. There will be a lot of people.” Billie thanks you with another squeeze as she hasn't left your side.

“Still, he has every milestone recorded since your birth, he's not gonna stop now.”

“Billie, the bloody letters!” Mona interrupts, huffing at Billie's groan of protest. “Now!” She flicks her eyes at you, “please?” The butterflies in her hair look like they're actually flying when she moves her head.

“Only because you asked nicely!” Billie pouts, “I’ll be right back, mum! Tell dad I went around, okay?”

“I will, go, have fun delivering letters!” You wave her off.

“Oh it's my favourite! It has always been my dream to be a delivery woman!” You laugh at her antics. “Oh and Mon don't forget the thing!” She saunters off, running after a student who probably has a letter in her name.

“I won't!” Mona yells back.

“What thing, baby?” You walk beside her, patting her aching shoulders.

“A letter,” she grins mischievously at you, there's a glint in her eyes that you've seen in Hobie's eyes. Sliding a pink paper and a gel pen over to you, she raises her brows playfully. “It's on the house, mum, special courtesy of the best daughters in the world.”

“The best of the best.” You smile, trying incredibly hard not to peck her temple or you might end up embarrassing her. She also smells like your perfume. “But first, do you want help? I don't know who Thena is, but it looks like she's still not here.”

“Please.” Mona sighs in relief, “I'll give you a bundle of chocolate roses.” She scooches over, giving you space.

“No need, I still have a ton left from your dad.”

The line thins as you help Mona, and in between customers, you've written a letter full of love for Hobie. Thena, who you now know is a sophomore finally arrives with help. She lets Mona actually enjoy the event just as when Hobie arrives huffing with a frown. The crowd parts for him like he owns the school, it's his saunter, you always tell him. He's in his normal punk garb, to the detest of some parents but the students seem to love his style, including you who still falls head over heels at the same leather clad man.

“Hi, dad.” Mona, more tired, plops on her dad's side after squeezing the life out of you. Her cheek is pressed on his side as he rubs soothingly up and down her arm.

“I know ‘m like a broken record, but what did I miss?”

You open your mouth to reply, already magnetized to his other side, his arm around your waist as the three of you walk around the event. But Billie's voice suddenly pops out of nowhere.

“Mon mon bein’ a girl boss!” She collides into the three of you, Hobie chuckles, patting her head. She ducks away though, “don't mess up my hair, dad!”

“I wasn't.” Hobie meets your eyes. “And to think I used to do her bloody hair.” The twins walk ahead of you, whispering to each other.

“Teenagers, Hobie, we've got teenagers now.”

He makes a face, pulling you closer, watching his girls giggle amongst themselves. “I know, I think we need another one to balance them out.”

“With your back, old man?” You pinch his side, grinning at him. He doesn't miss the innuendo filled comment.

Hobie leans his face close, pierced lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Who you callin' old, huh? This old man can still lift a bloody plane.”

“Sure, sure, So you keep telling me.”

He blows hot air in your ear, chuckling lowly as you gasp. “You wanna bet?”

“Later, old man.” You wink and you're already walking beside his girls, arm in arm, teasing him with a simple look.

—

You sit on the bleachers, lap full of snacks, buttered popcorn, corndogs and a couple of blue coloured drinks that you cannot fathom the flavour of. The seat is high up, overlooking the entire field where all the students wait on the sides. You'd be scared of the height but you're used to it now because of Hobie's impromptu dates on skyscrapers. Hobie slides over next to you, sweat clinging on his brow, arms clutching more friend food than anyone could even consume in one go.

“Are you sure your heart can handle all that?” You tease again, and he looks at you tenderly, eyes shining in the afternoon sun, reflecting the school flags waving above. After all these years, you still can't get over the fact that he looks at you like that, like you're his whole world.

“‘m a growing boy, love.” You hand him the camera from your purse, “and maybe ‘m preparin’ for tonight.”

“Nothing happens tonight, Hobs if you eat that whole blooming onion on your own.”

“You want some then?” He shakes the packaging.

“Of course I do.” You playfully scoff, taking the treat from Hobie as he laughs.

You two eat your fill, leaving some for the girls after the show, knowing that they'll be starving by then. One after the other, students from different grades take turns showing their own choreographed dances. Thankfully it's the girls' turn after the one you're currently watching.

“What's in this?” He asks, shaking the half empty blue drink.

“You're almost done with it and now you're just asking?” You say with your mouth full of cotton candy.

“Well, do you know?”

“It's blueberry.” You shrug.

He takes a sip, smacking his lips together. “Nah, I don't think so, lovie. I think it's all chemicals.”

You chuckle, knowing his next words. “Don't—”

“I think it's radioactive.” He fakes a gasp.

You still laugh wholeheartedly after the umpteenth time of him using the same joke.

“You laugh at radioactive material?” He says, mock disappointment.

“Well, I sleep with one every night, so…” there's a twinkle in your eyes.

“Fuckin' cheeky.” He grabs the back of your head, pushing you closer to him. “Y’know the girls got that from you.”

“And what did they get from you?”

“Except for my charms and handsome dimples? My brain.”

“Ah yes, of course—” before you could smooch him, the same boy from Billie and Mona's booth suddenly appears, his tall lanky frame blocking the sun, red hair brighter than Hobie's boots.

“What can I do for you, mate?” Hobie asks, and the poor boy practically shakes where he's standing.

“Y/N Brown?” He asks, already handing you a pink letter from his basket full of perfumed stationery.

“Yep, that's me. Thanks.” You look at the letter with confusion. “Looks like I've got a secret admirer.”

“Who?” Hobie acts, “and is he an adult so I can fight for your hand?”

“Shut up.” You laugh, opening the letter gingerly. Reading the affectionate words carefully.

“Hobie Brown?” The red haired boy asks again, Hobie looks up at him. “Mr. Hobie Brown.”

“No Mr. Brown ‘ere, bruv. But I'll take it.” His smile eases the boy, but he still skedaddles out of the bleachers. “He looked like he was about to piss himself. Does he know the girls, love?” He looks back at you with tears in your eyes. “Love?”

“H-how dare you write this love letter so well.” You sniff, he smiles. “This is so good! I-I haven't heard you call me cherry in so long, Hobie. And now that y-you wrote it….”

“Deep breaths, love.” He wipes your tears with his thumb, and a few people look at you weirdly. He doesn't mind, he can fight.

“You’re an asshole, I love you so fucking much.” You suddenly hug him, arms around his neck, face pressed on his skin. “You’re so right, the girls got your charm.”

Hobie holds you, knuckles running along your back. “And they got the rest from you.”

You lean back, tears still clinging in your lashes. “Don't read mine, it doesn't compare to yours.”

He shakes his head, staring at his love. “Even if you wrote it in wingdings I'll still read it.”

“It might as well be.”

“Too late, already reading it.”

“What—?” You look over your shoulder, and sure enough, he's reading it behind your back. “Ass.”

He blinks, eyes glimmering, clearing his throat. “Well, that's—”

“Shit? Horrible? Almost twenty years together and I still can't form coherent words when it comes to you?”

“No, I mean the last one is accurate, but,” he inhales. “‘m glad you chose me, love, and ‘m glad you kissed me back even after I kicked and broke your uni's doors open.”

“I kissed you back because I always hated those doors.” You joke, he laughs as he cradles your face in his hands. Those hands you've loved no matter how rough it gets. “And I always wanted to do that.” Not a joke, a full confession like you've said to him all those years ago.

Hobie tucks in the letter inside his jacket, right above his heart and you place yours just like he did, mirroring his movement. He gently pecks your lips, it's done immediately but not without love, it's full of it, filling your heart.

“I owe you a proper kiss when we get home and without a thousand people watching.”

“Okay, looking forward to it.” You nod, holding his warm palms.

“And without our girls screaming with their mates.”

You blink as Hobie gently moves your head towards a handful of girls bouncing for joy and yelling ‘otp.’ Whatever that means. Billie shakes Mona by her shoulders, you don't have enhanced eyesight just like your family but you can definitely see their eyes filled with happy tears.

“So this is their plan.” You say while Hobie loops his arm around your shoulders, head placed next to yours. “They are cheeky.”

“They got that from you.”

[i-am-muzan-kibutsuji]

(Pt. 2 of trying to win over Muzan ft. my angel oc, Hikari. I think I got at least somewhere last time, so hopefully I can build their relationship up. Wish me luck, lol! 🙏🏻)

Time Skip - A few hours later

Hikari had walked around (well also flew since she's an angel lol) the Infinity Fortress to try and get used to her surroundings. It was rather difficult as the Infinity Castle was large and seemed to go on forever. Not to mention it would change at times. But she started to figure out her surroundings (or at least enough to where she knew where she was going).

She also talked to the Biwa Demon, Nakime. The woman was polite, however, didn't talk much. But Hikari didn't mind. She hoped she could gain the trust of Muzan and his demons as she knew they likely didn't trust her fully yet. And maybe even make friends with some of them.

She was now currently in a Japanese-styled bedroom in the Infinity Fortress. She was reading through the books Muzan had in there. She hoped something she found could help her help him with his goals.

She had heard from the other angels in Heaven that his goal was to conquer the sun by obtaining the blue spider lily. Apparently, the flower was magical and could give demons the ability to withstand the harmful rays of the sun. However, it must have been hard to find on Earth as Muzan had searched for it for 1,000 years and still couldn't find it.

She wondered if there was a chance the flower could be in Heaven's garden. She had been to that garden many times when she was in Heaven and knew it had many otherworldly plants. She wondered if there was a chance the blue spider lily could be there. She had never looked for it, but perhaps there was a chance it could be there.

"Should I inform Lord Muzan about this?" she thought out loud to herself. "I don't want to bother him. He is probably busy. But this could be important..." she pondered.

She also found herself missing his presence, and couldn't stop thinking about him. He lingered in the back of her mind. Every time her mind would wander to think about him, she would feel her heart fluttering and butterflies forming in her stomach. She didn't understand why she suddenly felt this way or why she was so curious about him. Perhaps it was his personality? Or perhaps his looks? All she knew was that she was drawn to him.

Deep within the heart of the castle, Muzan sat on a grand chair, his legs crossed as he read through a book. He didn't seem too interested as he kept a blank stare. His eyes glided over the pages with the patients of buddha before he gently turned a page. Nakime sat in the coroner of the room, her biwa neatly in her lap, ready to serve her master.

The room was that of an office, with a single chair in the center of it. On the walls, there were notes pinned to it, dried flowers, and a large map of the world. Smaller countries, tropical, hot, and cold continents have been crossed out with 'X' marks. Blue dried out flowers that were found were pinned on the map, an arrow pointing to certain lands that either said 'close but not quiet', 'Possibly' and 'Motherland'.

There were books laid out all over the place. The ones he's already read were laid open in a forgotten pile while the ones he's newly required were all closed and stacked neatly. They towered up to the endless ceiling going on seemingly forever. Every tower of books were separated by a different language, but they were categorized by similar regions or languages.

The angel, my Lord, she's still seems to be roaming about.

Nakime said softly as one of her eyes was attached to the corner of a room, watching as the angel traveled about.

I am well aware, Nakime, anyone would wonder these curious halls, trying to understand where they were, but she'll never be able to, new rooms are constantly being born, mixing in with the older rotating ones. It's such a complex system that nobody would be able to ever escape.

Muzan said smoothly as he turned another page before he suddenly clapped the book shut with a gentle clop of the thick pages before he sat it down gently next to him on a small table.

I'm sure she's trying to find her way to me, but I'll allow her to find me when I want her, too.

[sweetbunpura]

TWST x MHST

Since Razea was already found with Yuu, all that was left to find where the rest of her team had ended up. Hopefully they didn't scare the students too badly.

What dorms the monsters were found in....

Bloodbath Diablos: Terror

The moment they return to Savanaclaw, Leona's immediately tenses up and summons his staff.

"Leona-san, what's...." Ruggie looks in the direct Leona's staring in and freezes.

There's a large tan and blue creature with horns staring directly at them. Its red eyes are unblinkingly looking at them, its tail moved slowly behind it as it waited for anyone to make a move.

"Dude, what the fuck is that?" One of the students say.

"Is that one of those things that came with the magicless newbie?"

"Slowly." Leona said as he pointed with his staff towards the dorm. "Head inside."

"But dorm leader-"

"Go."

Carefully, the group headed into the dorm as all of them kept their eyes on the monster. The creature was only focused on Leona as eventually the lion beastman was left alone with it. After what seemed like a few minutes, the monster left to one of the rocky cliffs nearby.

"Shit, getting out of the dorm is going to be a hassle now." Leona sighed.

Mizutsune: Mizu

"That was.... certainly interesting." Jade spoke as they walked through the mirror. "Someone to avoid from now on or do you wish to know more, Azul?"

Azul sighed. "I pray that our paths never cross."

"You can pray all you want, Azul, but I think one of those things are here." Floyd said as he pointed towards something in the water outside of the barrier walkway.

"Hmm- By the sevens!"

A monster, what could only be classed as a beautiful and vibrant leviathan, floated around in the depths of the of the water. The body was a glorious array of pink, purple, ivory, and yellow as the fins on its body almost blended in with it. It swam around elegantly before piercing the barrier and leading on the floor several feet in front of them. With a mighty yawn, it curled up, placing its head on its tail

"What in the world...." Azul adjusted his glasses.

"Perhaps its harmless." Jade inquired as the group continued on to approach it.

The creature opened its eyes as they passed, which caused a few of them to jump back. Once it deemed them a non threat, it closed its eye and fell back asleep.

"Yeah, it's harmless." Floyd echoed. "Kinda boring tho."

Shrouded Nerscylla: Charlotte

Jamil was already hating today, but stepping into Scarabia and seeing a GIANT spider climbing its way down from the side of the dorm was enough to put him into near cardiac arrest. The spider, with its 6 green beady eyes and purple and white body, made its way over to them once it had spotted them.

"Kalim, kill it!"

"Wait, it could be that student's! I can't do that!"

"Why the hell not!?"

The spider stopped in front of the group and regarded them almost curiously as it stared. Kalim waved to it with a smile on his face.

"Hi! You must be one of Yuu's monsters, right?"

"Kalim, it can't-"

At hearing Yuu's name, the spider reached out and seemly sniffed at Kalim. Jamil felt his heart freeze in his chest as the creature poked and prodded a laughing Kalim. Once it deemed him not a threat, it turned around and headed back towards the dorm.

"Oh, she's so nice-" A thud sounded behind him. "Wha- JAMIL!"

Zinogre: Voltage

Vil has long learned how Rook moves by now, so the moment the hunter looks off to the forest surrounded the dorm, Vil is already questioning what triggered his Vice.

"What is it?"

"A beast, Roi du Poison." Rook reaches for his bow and arrows. "And one unlike the ones we have."

"...The same beast that was with the Potato?"

"Possibility."

Suddenly, Vil feels the crackle of electricity in the air as a beast emerges out of the tree line. It reminds the actor of a wolf, if a wolf had turquoise scales and yellow spikes along with a set of horns. Rook readies an arrow as the beast stares at him. Blue electricity sparks off of it as it waits for the hunter to make his next move. Vil places his hand on Rook's shoulder.

"Rook, I don't believe it means us harm."

"....Oui." He lowered his bow. "He only acted as I did, protecting himself first if it came to an attack."

The wolf stared at them before dismissing its electricity and retreating back into the woods.

"A majestic creature as well, non?"

"Indeed."

Legiana: Icicle

It's a little colder than it normally is in Diasomnia as Lilia directs everyone towards the dorm. He pauses as he notices the temperature drop a few more degrees.

"Is something wrong, Fa- I mean, Lilia-san?" Silver asks as he joined Lilia's side.

"Perhaps something has stunk into Diasomnia!" Sebek joins Lilia on his other side. "We need to-"

"Calm down, Sebek." Lilia laughs and points to a creature soaring above them. "I believe that that creature belongs to Yuu."

Everyone looked up to a beige and navy blue wyvern like creature land on part of the roof. It reached over to groom itself, picking off dead skin off of its wings before settling down.

"It's beautiful." Silver muttered.

"Yes, it is." Lilia smiled. "I wonder how Yuu managed to tame a beast such as that."

[derww]

DEVOTIONS WEEK DAY 5: ANGER/WOUNDS

CW Violence, death

He wakes up in a puddle of blood. The blood is his own. It's something new. He quickly finds that it was a well-aimed shot at point-blank range from the arrow cannon. It failed to kill him. Thrice.

All of his armor is broken, but he doesn't care – he already broke the only chestplate that was really important. The blood is his own, it feels like a whole liter, at first he literally squeezes out his clothes – and tries to rub it off, but it refuses to, and he cannot bring himself to care about it. He gets up. He gets to work.

He destroys any traces that they have ever been here from the spawn. He breaks down the path, burns down houses and covers up any traces of human presence with red sand. Like a respectful tourist, he cleans up the trash before leaving, because he knows that the end is coming soon.

His enemies, of course, come, and they poke at him with their blades, and they stitch him up with arrows, and they blow him up over and over again, but it only ruins his clothes. They are annoying flies, and he has to distract himself to stab them with his blade again and again and again, and they stay away, but do not leave, pestering him with idiotic conversations. He doesn't listen to them – he puts down sand, again and again, as now dead hands used to do. It takes a god to stop them and he eventually comes.

Wemmbu, the god chosen by himself, is looking – staring – at him. It seems that he sees more than Mapicc. Bigger, deeper, through – his brain, his insides, his eyes. He has a shiny netherite sword in his hand, which he threatens PBJ with, and they are forced to retreat in the end, knowing that the field is too unequal.

Wemmbu is chatting with him, smiling easily, laughing strangely and talking about the policy he will introduce this Saturday. It is a smart policy. His multiple eyes, making him resemble a spider, stare at Mapicc. Wemmbu never mentions his immortality again. Call me if they bother you, he says, as if they were teammates, and disappears in a sandstorm. Mapicc stares after him for too long for the norm before going back to work.

Mapicc learns that he is still immortal when his skull splits in two and immediately comes back together. It still hurts, but he's alive. With the attention of the soldier, he can mark a specific moment when the damage from crashing into the ground on the elytra became so serious that the hearts dropped to zero – and instantly began to regen back, as if nothing had happened. In a matter of moments, not even a trace of what was supposed to send him after his friends remains on his head.

He still feels like his arm has been cut off. With dead Bacon, with dead Zam – he is so used to relying on them that he continues to forget that they no longer exist: turn to the air, turn around, expecting to see familiar figures, start typing messages on his communicator and discover that a player with that name does not exist. Twice he almost kills himself, expecting someone to be behind him. It really happens once. His fractured rib cage converges back almost instantly.

It has to be easy, really: just end the server and everything will be fine again. Like, actually. He and Clown and Ro train together, but neither of them is prepared for it, and Ro constantly separates from the group, Mapicc expects Zam to cover his back every time, and the Clown, even if he hardly shows it, but clearly still sees Leo and Minute by his sides. It takes an absurdly long time, but these are habits that have been formed over the entire season, pressed through blood and sweat, and they just exhale and try again.

Mapicc doesn't want to. He knows that Ro made a mistake and is glad that Clown is with them, but he does not want to work with them instead of his day 1 and partner. It makes his teeth ache to think that that damn day was the last time they saw each other as part of the same team. He doesn't look Ro in the eyes.

He must destroy this world – this is his goal and their posthumous desire, and he smells of grave earth, and his cramped fingers are clutching a sword.

They come for Wemmbu, depriving him of his blessing and stabbing him again and again while he pathetically dies with the almost crushed spyglass in his hand. For some reason, they never come for Mapicc. He doesn't know why. Maybe they can't.

[justjams2003]

The Desire to be Loved-3

Summary: Love is Desire's first creation. As Cupid she shoots her arrows of love and rips them from people's hearts too. Occasionally, shooting a soulmate arrow. What does she do when her first Soulmate arrow in 100 years is between Cupid and Dream?

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x OFC Love/Cupid/Venus (you know how these beings have millions of names) (Also technically it could be an x reader because love is sort of anthropomorphic but in this story a she)

Warnings: Manipulation, threats, crying, cliffhanger, unedited, kind of like enemies to lovers, soulmate au, cursing, tell me if I miss any

Word count: 1,7k+

Dividers by: @hyelita

Tags: @intothesoul @briskesby coffeebeforewater

Masterlist

(I've moved next part to the bottom)

Love’s steps are usually much more graceful. Like a bird so carefully landing on a tree branch. So lightly that the branch doesn’t even move. It looks like nothing but the wind breezing through the careful sway of the tree.  

Or maybe her movements are more like a spider. Slicking up buildings, perching and waiting to shoot the arrow of love. She has wings but more often than not she doesn’t use them. She likes climbing things and sneaking around. Pretending that the human’s can see her and she needs to hide. Some childish game to distract her from the loneliness.  

Her loneliness of not being seen. Over a billion people on earth. And not a single one can see her. Maybe, sure, the ghosts can see her. But why would ghosts want to talk to her? Can ghosts even love? How would Cupid shoot them with love-arrows if they can’t be touched?  

Since life has been breathed into her lungs, Desire has been the only being she’d ever talked to. And when they did, he usually did most of the talking. Scheming, rather. Talking about every possible way, left and right, to take down his siblings. Or just something more to mess with the humans a bit. 

Cupid doesn’t like messing with the mortals. Or the thought of hurting the other Endless. She’s never really thought of hurting anything. She wasn’t made with the ability to think of harm. She liked watching the humans. They’re so social. Even the ones who claim they like to be alone, they always have another human close by.   

And those who don’t... they eventually die the same way she lives. But that’s her least favourite part. She doesn’t like thinking about it, it makes her feel weird... Her favourite is watching a couple with one of her arrows between them. The first shy looks between them, red cheeks that she’s never had. She tries to always be there for the first ‘I love yous.’  

But watching her now, is pathetic at the least. She looks exhausted, all her power is gone. Dream of the Endless has been out of action for 100 years. All dreams are gone, no dream of desire, no dream of love. No arrows showed up in her quiver. Desire stopped talking to her, after all there was no need to.  

And one day in utter frustration, she pulled too hard. What gave her power was the love and hope between people. It brought her power to see people happy together. More people in love, the stronger Love is. But in the last 100 years...almost nothing. All she’s done is pull out her arrows from people’s hearts. Weaker and weaker.  

And one day she just snapped. Seeing the human shatter and break, some new emotion she never felt before rised...frustration. She knew how fragile the humans are but her anger got the worst of her. It had been the 50th arrow that day that she had to take out. She had to watch how they’d wail and cry when their heart rip apart.  

She’d hacked the arrow along with the heart out. In the human world it just looked like a normal heart attack, but to her it was something much more horrific. The human heart beat in her hands and the blood poured and poured. She knew Desire would just laugh at her and there was only one other person who could even see her. 

But this, where she is now is even worse. The walls are blood red, the obvious realm of Desire of the Endless. She looks barely on the brink of life. Her everything looks grey and dull. “D-Desire?” She mutters hoping for some sort of life force grant from him. A loan until dreams reappear in people. Until love has some sort of meaning again.  

But when she finally limped her way to the throne she got the exact opposite response. “Hello, pet, could there ever possibly be something you want to say to me?” His tone is harsh like a bee sting. “I-I don’t feel so good.” He just scoffs and rolls his eyes.  

“You...you...sly minx! You’re like a fucking viper!” He has a cruel grin on his face. But Love has given up after years of psychological torture and isolation. She is just as quick to snap back. At him “The first words he spoke to me was a thank you. That’s more I’ve ever gotten from you!” Something seems to actualise up for Desire.  

“Oh, I see that’s how it is. You think he cares about you.” He grins and stands up from his throne. His sharp claw once again finds the sensitive skin under her chin. “I don’t understand why you hate him so much.” She mutters turning her face away. But he grabs her right by the cheeks and keeps her exactly in place.  

“I thought that you wanted your master to rule? I’ve been so so good to you haven’t I?” His mouth grazes across her jaw. Her breathing hitches. This is how he gets her. “He doesn’t care about you. He didn’t even know you existed before you stumbled your way into that fucking basement. And didn’t I tell you not to go back there?”  

“He didn’t hurt me like you told me would. Not once, he’s been nothing but soft and-” suddenly his hand wraps around her neck. She’s weak, and even before she only had a fraction of his power. She can‘t fight back. “’not once’? Not only did you free him from his cage you visited him more than twice?”  

His fingers become tighter around her neck. His claws draw blood and it drips down her chest. Her hands flail around his. Her breathing becomes raspy and painful. “I could make a million more of you if I wanted.” He whispers into her ear. But his other hand comes up and scrapes a line across her cheek.  

“But you’re oh so beautiful.” His pink tongue drags over the line of blood dripping from her cheek. Then he places a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “You were meant to be my perfect creation. But now look at you. Weak and fucking useless...” They let go of Love. 

When she crumbles on the floor he just coos. “Such a shame. Too sickly to fly, to teleport. I’m sure you couldn’t even pick up your bow if you tried.” He bends down to the girl struggling to get up. He grabs her by the hair, he can’t help but admire how beautiful he made her again. “I think I should try again, don’t you...?”  

Feelings are such a conflicting thing. Something that the Dream of the Endless never thought that he’d be one to deal with. Black and white and no in between, right? Make dreams, make nightmares, deal with the things that shouldn’t be. Sure, once in a while one of his many siblings would irk him or send him one of this in between things to deal with.  

But now things are different. Now he’s been caged up for over a century. Now for some odd reason there is something more than the repeating thoughts of cruel revenge against the Burgesses. Seeing Alex stuck in an eternal nightmare did warm the soul but just not enough.  

When the sand made contact with his skin and he opened his eyes to see Lucien staring down at him, it made his heart sink. More so seeing the shambles his kingdom had come to. And as he sat on his throne, breathing in the dust of his castle there’s only thing he can think of.  

In his lap sits the arrow left by Love. The arrowhead is glowing bright red. He inspects it closely, there are as always names written on it. But, even in his authority as an Endless, only Cupid knows who this arrow belongs to. But why did she come to him with it...? 

She looked to be in utter disbelieve about the contents of the arrow. Like she feared it contents. Why did she keep coming back to him? Why did she leave the arrow with him and not take it with her? Doesn’t this arrow have a time and place to reach it’s target? Won’t the scales tip, the fates must know this.  

But in the sights he’s stuck in, he needs his powers now more than he needs Cupid. And there is always one person to ask, who would know where his own creation is. But what feels more cruel is the utter fear behind her eyes at the thought of Desire finding out where she is and who she’s talking to.  

It can wait...right?  

“My king, what is that you have?” Lucien asks, picking at her fingers. The deep vibration of his voice echos. “Lucien, what books do we have on Cupid?” The librarian’s brows furrow, “Desire’s first creature? Is that...?” She asks, holding out her hand to inspect the object. “It is...she was the first non-human to find me.”  

The creature isn’t sure what to say. She doesn’t know her master to be one with much sentiment. “Why didn’t she inform anyone?“ She asks, it would’ve helped to keep all creatures in the Dreaming. “She knows her place. She’s submissive, she was made that way.” Lucien goes to speak again but Dream interrupts her.  

“What confuses me more is why she went against him? And what will happen if Love itself has gone missing from the human world?” Lucien’s brows furrow. “My lord you have been gone for a century, don’t you wish to get your power back before we focus on different issues.”  

Suddenly his voice sounds stern and his eyes go dark. “Lucien. My devotion lies with the dreamers and if they have no love there are no dreams. If there are no dreams there is no love. Do not question me.” The woman looks taken back and seems to gulp. She keeps her head down and keeps out of the way. 

A pang of guilt hits him seeing Lucienne cower from him. He sighs and lets the arrow disappear again, somewhere easy for him to grab and hide again. “But-” he stops her from walking away. “-you’re right, Lucienne. If I go charging into Desire’s realm, without my tools, I’ll be captured again.”  

Dream stands up from his steps, his long black coat billowing behind him. “I need to find my tools.”  

If you want to be added to the taglist, just ask

Part 2~Part 4

[s0ulsice]

 V I R A G O                   

Chapter 4

Neteyam x fem!omaticaya!reader

Nice Going, Romeo

𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼/𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼/𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼/

»»———–➤»»———–➤»»———–

Chapter four synopsis: After years of tension, Y/n and Neteyam have finally made up and have agreed to re-establish their friendship. Because of the chaotic events of the last few days, Y/n hits her breaking point due to all the stress and has an argument with Spider. Meanwhile, Neteyam basks in his lovesick haze.  »»———–➤»»———–➤»»———–➤»»———–➤»»

WARNINGS:

Mentions of a stroke??? (its a joke)/Lo’ak and Y/n being platonic soulmates/ mentions of cutting hair/ mentions of anxiety and grief/ I think that’s it??

Author’s Note

My beautiful readers! Goodness, it's been a  minute hasn't it?? I actually had a lot of fun writing this chapter. D0 you like my new dividers?? I thought the arrows were on theme hehe. Also, they really help space out the details, warnings and synopsis area a lot more so everything up here isn’t so chunky. Comments and reposts are much appreciated as usual.  

☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺𖦹₊⋆⁺☀︎₊

The room is dimly lit, no thanks to the shitty lamp that emanated a sickly shade of yellow on the small bedside table next to Spider’s bunk. 

High camp was silent. The rest of the clan had retired to their homes for sleep. The atmosphere tonight is cinematically melancholy. Thick shadowy mist, like the kind that falls just before a thunderstorm. 

Spider has been sleeping for the last few hours. Water and food kept close by on a tray on the floor. 

So much has happened since the accident. Your intervention with Neteyam, your new appointed position as a teacher, the weight of it all still heavy on your chest.

Neteyam and you had a complicated history to say the least. Your love for him has grown with you. From a child's softly sewed heart, patchwork pieces of moonlight and magic and sweet things. Chasing each other across shin-deep streams and unmeasured mindgames. Innocence unrestrained by a child’s imagination. 

You were a wild child. Unafraid of unruly sensations that snap and scratch at the scarred skin stretched on your bones. You were taller than Neteyam until you were 11, despite him being older. You remember him looking up at you with all the wonder in the world

And then you grew older, shamefully throwing yourself into his arms. 

Within the depths of your bliss, you found a sanctuary with him. Newfound effervescence, two souls choking on their words to describe eachothers beauty. You remember chasing eachother through the forest after sundown, catching the colors caught in the sky,  hues of red and orange bargaining for dominance as the sky stretched into indefinite lengths. 

Liquid glass visions and sweet tasting sunlight, bright orange arrows greedily repel the monochrome traces that perturbed from the daylight hours, 

He swore to you. 

He looked you in your eyes and he swore to you.

He would protect you. No matter what. 

Thoughts of you were sanctified.

He told you he would take you anywhere you desired. 

The disparity in it all was hollow promises.

 You sit up, your ears catching the sound of the blanket that draped across Spider’s body slipping off to the floor.

“You’re awake.”

You wasted no time. You stood up from your sitting spot in the corner to kneel next to the cot he laid on.

He sat up with a groan, his eyes lazily blinking to adjust to the light.

“Hey.”

He whispered, patting your leg.

You cracked a smile, buty it faded when your gaze drifted to his bandages.

“Does it hurt?” You whispered. 

He shakes his head.

“Nah. I think Norm and Max gave me something for pain.”

You nodded, slowly. Shifting to rest on your knees.

He allocated steps of silence for you to rest your words. But for some reason, you couldn’t find them.

It confined itself in your throat. The feverent sting of tears and bronze and venom gathered in dark corners of your heart.

“What?”

You whispered, waiting for him to explain why he was staring so intently.

“I don’t know. You’re quiet. You're shaking. And you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I almost did. Because of your stupid ass.”

He let a rough breath out, glowering in annoyance.

“Y/n. Everything was fine. I fell. You’ve never fallen?”

“Because I had my ass half-hanging out of a broken aircraft? No, actually.”

Your voice textured itself with all the harshness that rewired into carcass of throned fear. The heaviness in your chest is still embedded, sacred and silent but not senseless. 

His gaze tremors in a pattern between you and the floor.

You leaned back, a choked breath leaving your lips.

“Spider, tonight I thought was the last time I’d ever see you breathing.”

He shook his head, trying to reassure you.

“I’m fine. Look at me-

It’s just a few bruises.”

“That’s not the point, dumbass! It could have been worse.”

Spider had nothing to say to that. He reveled in the silence that thickened the air.

“I’m not a little kid anymore. I don’t need you to come to my rescue.”

Those words wound you even more when in his eyes you see he’s debating whether he regrets them or not.

Spider was older than you. And you were always told stories of how your mother saw a child alone in a great big world regardless of whether he was a human or not. It broke her heart.

Growing up, you always threw yourself into fights for Spider.

Refusing to play games with other children that called him names. Learning at the ripe age of 8 how to make sure he had a spare pack whenever he left the shack, and how to hook it up to his mask, thanks to Max and Norm.

You and Lo’ak running through the forest to collect new fruits to use as dye to paint his skin, hoping the  azure streaks and stripes would stain his skin.

It was funny, really. How he was protective of you despite you being the one that was taller, stronger, faster.

You knew spider was grateful for your parents. He loved them like his own. Mourned them so heavily when they left this world and moved on to the next. But you also knew it wasn’t easy.

It wasn’t easy being a human in a clan that was still healing. It wasn’t easy being the son of Miles Quaritch. 

When the world around him seemed like a sword, you became a shield.

A habit you had picked up since childhood. You pride yourself on never mistaking any part of his for weakness.

But how could you not feel solicitous?

When you and your world felt too big, and he looked too small, when even the air denied him to breathe freely?

The ache in your chest is almost firstful, palpable in immediacy of the realization that he had become the sword in this moment.

Your tone clawed and mangled with the pain that was morphing into anger.

“If you don’t want me to rescue you, don’t almost kill yourself.”

You hissed, your mind snatching the sense of guilt from his earlier remark.

He scoffs.

“Oh of course. As usual, you’re the hero and I’m just the human you’re in charge of keeping on a leash.”

“I wouldn’t have to keep you on a fucking leash if you used your brain once in a while.

And what the fuck does that mean?”

Spider sits up a little more, glaring at you.

“You’ve always been perfect. Put a bow and arrow in your hand and the clan thinks you’re some deity from the heavens sent to protect everything that breathes.”

That was unnecessary. And really fucking immature.

“Don’t glorify me. And don’t ever hold my dedication to protect my people against me.”

“No one asked you too! It was all the sudden you were training with Jake. Next thing you know your Lucy the fucking Lutientent or some shit. Would it kill you for once; to not be the hero? Would it kill you to-“

Before he could finish, you snatched the picture on the bulletin board next to some photos Norm and Max had hung up in the shack where spider slept. 

It was a picture of a spider had taped up on the wall when he was a child.

A picture of your mother holding him on her hip, smiling for max behind a camera as he insisted on taking a picture of them. 

The picture hurt you to look at. How young your mother looked. Your mother had always been beautiful. But something about the her glow, evident of her early years of motherhood and healing after the war.

You shoved it into his chest, watching his eyes widen as he scrambled to hold it.

“Would it kill me? It won’t kill me, but this war killed her. So my apologies if I refuse to let it kill you, or anyone else I care about.”

Spider was stunned. He stared at you, his eyes shadowed with regret.

You stood to your feet, mocking his glare from a few seconds ago.

“I know you didn’t ask for this. But guess what? I didn’t either.”

“Y-“

You didn’t even want to hear him speak, much less listen to him berate you about apologizing for a mess you were only trying to fix.

You turned for the door, ducking under the top frame, minding that it was not made for Na’vi to enter and go as they please.

You felt like the floor was being torn open with each step as the feeling of cool wooden metal tiles turned into the grassy patches outside the shack.

You jumped down the steps, grounding yourself both mentally and physically  on the familiar air of the high camp, the night’s scent thick with high emotions and heartache.

The meds Norm and Max gave Spider must have some kind of mind altering drug side effects because he knew better than to raise his tone with you.

You and spider never fought.

Well, that wasn’t true. But when you did, it never got to a point of either of you leaving without resolving it.

You ran your hands through your braids, tugging lightly at the ends.

You wished the night would just swallow you hole, you paced around in a circle, cursing under your breath.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fucking-

Fuck!”

You rasped, reaching for the natural stone wall that encaved high camp. Steadying yourself with deep breaths.

You finally manage to soothe yourself just enough to imagine that entire encounter went much smoother.

Eywa, how you yearned for nothingness at this moment. 

You loved Spider, but sometimes he opens his mouth and suddenly you're one step closer to considering alcoholism.

“Y/n?”

You spin around on your heel, hand instinctively resting on your knife handle, prepared to defend yourself, your stance stiffened, your tail curling protectively around your leg.

“Easy kiddo. It’s just me.”

Jake arands with a hand resting on his waist as he peers down at you. 

You let out a breath you weren’t sure how long you were holding.

“What is it with your family and sneaking up on me!?”

You whisper-yelled, trying not to wake the whole clan.

Jake rubs the back of his neck, his tail swaying awkwardly.

The night air takes a tenor of star-strung sounds that harmonize with the of the imbricating symphonies of pandora’s nocturnal life. 

Jake gestured back to the shack.

“Are you all done there?”

“How long were you standing there?”

You couldn’t help but sound slightly accusatory. You hoped he wasn’t eavesdropping on you and Spider. 

You don’t really want Jake pushing himself where he didn’t belong.

He shrugs.

“About 30 seconds.”

You let out a sigh, running a hand down your neck, the motion an attempted anodyne to calm your nerves.

“What are you even doing here? It’s late?”

You query, tilting your head.

He paused before answering.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay, Y/n. You had one hell of a day.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms.

Were you the happiest with Jake right now?

No. Not really.

Why? Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he has been planning on setting you up to train either Makeyo or Neteyam for weeks without informing you. You thought he valued you as a warrior. For your skill. For your courage. For your vigor and vigilance. To be tossed into a position without as much as a warning? Has he lost respect for you? Maybe Spider was right. You were a sword. Forged from fire and bloodshed and grief.

Eywa had to be fucking with you. Why is that when one argument with a sully ends, another one comes from around the corner.

“I’m fine Jake. Neve better.”

Jake sighs, running a hand down his face.

“Y/n, sweetheart, I know I should have told you sooner. I know. But this was my best option.”

“Not even a warning?? Not even a heads up?? the fact that you had already decided I was going to become someone’s teacher before deciding who I was going to teach! You just kept running in between Makeyo or Neteyam.”

Jake looked down for a moment, he had no excuse for why he did it, allowing the regret to inchoate into him.

Your voice was a whisper now. Hoarse and exhausted, contrast to your usual pragmatic approach to speaking with Jake.

He was your superior. The Olo’eyktan of your clan. A leader.

“Do you think I’m not strong enough anymore?”

 Jake shook his head, placing a hand on your shoulder, leaning down slightly.

“Y/n. Listen to me. You are one of the strongest warriors this clan has ever seen. You fight with honor. But you can’t keep throwing yourself into fire over and over again. And if you have to, you’re not doing it alone. If I can get someone with half your skill to support you while you’re in the sky, I’m gonna do it.”

You glared. “So you’re going to assign your son to hover behind me while I fight?”

“Short answer? Yes.”

You let out a huff, feeling yourself getting worked up again.

“I don’t need Neteyam to chaperone me.”

Jake threw his arms up, followed by an over exaggerated sigh.

“It’s less about you being ‘chaperoned’ and more about keeping you alive, Y/n!”

In response? You had nothing to say. All you knew is that you were tired. So, so tired.

Tired of arguing. Tired of the cold glares you had distributed throughout the day. 

Jake sighed, wrapping an arm around you supportively. 

“Sweetheart you look dead on your feet. You need some rest.”

You were silent as Jake walked you across highcamp to Mo’ats tent. 

He pulled back the flap, the smells of grinded herbs and salves, the fresh smell of the wood wafting through the air.

You ducked inside, plopping yourself on the ground.

“Jesus Christ, when’s the last time you slept?”

He crouched down, pressing his palm to your cheek, making you look up at him, 

“I don’t need sleep”, 

you mumbled hissing at him weakly. You collapsed onto the pile of woven blankets that rested in the corner.

He closed the flap behind him, moving some of Mo’at’s supplies out of the way so you could sprawl out.

“You can rest here for tonight. Take some time for yourself. Meditate or something.”

You raised a brow, your ears flicking upwards.

“Meditate?”

“I don’t know, kid. Just do something to calm yourself down.”

Jake walked over to you, tossing a blanket over you and handing you a parcel, wrapped carefully by leaves.

“What’s this?” You murmur, staring down at it.

“Dinner. Don’t think I didn’t notice you skipping tonight’s meal.”

You frowned, not even remembering you were so rushed to meet Spider after your chat with Neteyam, that you completely forgot to eat.

“Well shit…Thank you.”

You held it up, nodding towards him.

He stood up, waving you off.

“Just make sure you eat all of it. You’re not an old lady, and i’m too young to force-feed you like you are one.”

You cracked a smile. You really were grateful for Jake.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

He sat on his knees next to you, adjusting the blanket to drape over your shoulders, patting your back a few times for good measure.

“Are you okay, Y/n? Really, be honest with me, kiddo.”

His voice was softer thai time, laced with concern and honesty. 

You sighed.

“I had an argument with Spider.”

Jake sighed, as if he were relieved.

“Thank god..”

You sat up, confused tp say the least.

“Why is that a good thing?”

“Well I'm just happy it’s that and someone’s not messing with you. I wouldn’t want to have to throw punches.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Please. You know I’d fold anyone anyday.”

Jake gave you a hearty smile, running a hand down your back.

“Damn straight. My money’s on you.”

You chuckled weakly, feeling the tiredness wash over you.

Jake rose to his feet, looking at you one more time before leaving.

“Get some sleep, sweetheart. And eat your damn food.”

☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺ ‏𖦹  ₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ 

The next morning…Neteyam’s POV

Have you ever woken up feeling like you could pull the moon out of the sky with your bare hands and gift it to the most beautiful person you had ever seen??? Have you ever woken up feeling like even the smallest of shifts in the wind sang someone’s name?? Have you ever woken up feeling like one singular soul could somehow hold my existence in her palm with such ease?? Have you ever woken up feeling like the air is a bit lighter? Like the sky is a bit brighter?

Maybe it’s just me. But ever since last night..Ever since iv’e earned her trust back, I’ve felt as if I could brivet around the forest like a brainless fool, just basking in the absurdity of this amorevolous haze.

Did I mention she hugged me-??? Just wrapped her arms around me mid of my sentence. Eywa, if she was an ocean I'd drown in her. 

When I woke up this morning, I blinked slowly, allowing the early morning sunrays that filtered through the small open spaces in the woven material to leak it’s light onto me. I stretched my arms above my head, feeling its warmth encompass me.

There was a stupid smile on my face that I wasn’t aware of.

I stare up at the ceiling for a moment. Letting my thoughts drift to the farther corners of my mind. All my burdens and worries slowly follow suit.

“Psst! Teyam! Are you awake??”

I roll over to my side, sitting up a bit, and as I angle myself to rest on my elbows, i’m faced with big golden eyes that could only belong to Tuk.

“Hi Tuk.”

I yawn, trying to clear the hoarseness out of my voice. 

She blinks at me, her tail flicking behind her. The echo of her laughter embodied the lightheaded ecstasy that already embedded its energy into my brain this morning. She yanks the blanket that was covering my legs off of me, tugging at my arm.

“Come on! Mama said it’s time to eat!”

I groan dramatically, humoring her.

“Tuktirey, I don’t think my legs are working-

Oh no, there I go. Gravity’s increasing on me.”

She squeals as I lean forward, letting half my upper body weight hang on her as she holds my limp figure up with her much smaller arms.

“Neteyam! You’re too heavy!”

She whines playfully, attempting poorly tp push me upright again.

I let up after a moment, watching as she squeals with laughter before running to Kiri’s hammock, quickly yanking her blanket away before scurrying to jump on top of a snoring Lo’ak.

I chuckle to myself, folding up my own blanket and leaving it in my now empty hammock as I duck under the divider flap in the tent to distinguish areas with a barrier of sorts. I guess when you’ve had as many kids as my parents have, its better to try and break down a large marui into different quarters.

“Ma’itan, did you sleep alright?” I look  downward to see my mother glancing in between me and the fruit she was cutting up, the juices leaving slight stains on the tips of her fingers.

I sigh, the breath leaving my lips in an accidental dreamily manner. As if i’m caught in a mirage, my steps almost stumble over each other, it’s intractable. As if the light of the morning has transferred into the weight in my movements.

I sit down next to her on my knees. “I'm a great mother, perfect, even.”

She smiles at me, but there's confusion in her gaze.

I don’t think my stupid smile has faded because of the way my father pauses from sneaking his fingers into the bowl of pitcher plant nectar to stare at me. 

We lock gazes and I wave at him, as if it's been days since I've seen him.

“Father, good morning.” I raise two fingers to my forehead, dipping them downwards to form the ‘I see you’ sign. He hesitates to return the gesture, sharing confused glances with my mother.

“Uhm, Good morning. Are you feeling alright, bud?”

My mother and him exchange glances, and with a subtle gesture with a nod of her head, he understands she wants him to check on me. He places a hand on my shoulder, crouching down next to me, switching places with my mother per her silent request.

I shake my head, not being able to suppress the laugh that leaves my chest.

“I’m fine. Really, I feel– amazing. Like…really, really good-”

I paused for a moment as my dad pressed the back of his hand to my forehead.

“You don’t have a fever..do you know where we are right now? Could you tell me our exact location?”

“Ma’jake. He is not ill.”

“Baby, I gotta make sure he’s not stroking out-”

“Oh Jake enough. He is fine.”

My mother swats him away as she sits next to me, taking his place. She hands me a few fruits.

“Ma’itan, will you cut these up for me?”

“Of course mother.” I unsheathe my knife to start my task. I feel sleepless nights and dreams of kissing until I can’t breathe come spilling out of me in wavelengths of sunrays and gold-plaited glimpses. A woven thread that tugs on my heart weaves throughout ragged plains of regret, now lost and forgotten to what I feel now.

My father attempts to sneak more nectar, dipping his finger into the bowl just for my mother to spin around to catch him.

“Eywa help me, Jake how many times have i told you to save some for the children?”

“Not my fault this stuff is so sweet, baby, I could drink this stuff.”

My father throws his hands up in a mock surrender, fighting back a smile.

She throws her head back, a groan leaving her.

“You are infuriating. I cannot turn my back for 2 seconds.”

She stands to her feet to wash off her knife, only for my father to sneak up behind her, snaking his hands around her waist.

“Awh, don’t worry honey, It’s not as sweet as you.” He presses kisses to her cheek, tugging at her tail lightly, a soft gasp leaves my mother’s lips followed my soft laughter,

“Jake- stop, you are sticky.”

Since when was watching my mother and father flirt so heartwarming? 

“Gross. I didn’t know we were having PDA for breakfast.”

The familiar grumble causes me to turn to its source. Kiri trudges through the tent flap, her hair messy and her strides slow and exhausted. She rubs her eyes, clutching a waterskin in her other hand. It was a herbal tea that grandmother made for her frequent headaches. She carried it almost everywhere, especially in the morning.

She practically collapses into a cross-crossed position across from me, staring unamused as my parents pull apart from each other, my dad slowly maneuvering my mothers knife out of her grip.

“I’ll go wash this for ya, hon.” He whispers, giving her one last kiss before he slips out behind Kiri and ducks under the divider, letting the curtain fall behind him as you can hear him faintly telling Lo’ak and Tuk to stop wrestling around and get to breakfast.

My mother clears her throat, trying to suppress her own stupid smile now, victim of my father’s charm.

“Kiri, how did you sleep?”

 Kiri yawns, rebraiding one of the braids that fell on the side of her messily layered hair to frame her face.’

“Well, Y/n wasn’t here so there was no one I could rant to at midnight about the hypocrisy in our culture surrounding our misanthropic beliefs as a clan and the refusal to collate and unwillingness to adapt.”

She takes another sipt out of her waterskin, speaking as if she was explaining how to count to 3.

My mother smiles, clearly pretending to understand her.

“So….you slept well?”

Kiri sighs defeatedly, tying off the braid with the small band in her hand.

“Yes mother, I slept like a baby.”

I find myself snickering at the exchange, I look up to see my father return, Tuk and Lo’ak not far behind him. Tuk was doubled over, trying to support a limp-limbed Lo’ak with her smaller body, he’s mimicking my earlier joke with Tuk,

Noises of annoyance and in need of aid leave her as she struggles under Lo’ak’s weight.

“Lo’ak! You’re too heavy! Neteyam is funny when he does it!” She whines, attempting to push him off of her’

Lo’ak clutches his chest, as if he’s having a heart attack. “Oh eywa! I see the light!” He raises both arms up towards the sky, as if some divine presence was going to scoop him up into it’s arms and take him away.

“Take me, great mother!”

Tuk lets out a scream as Lo’ak tumbles atop her.

“That’s enough, you two. Lo’ak, get offa’ your sister.”

My dad tugs on Lo’ak’s tail, and he hisses in pain.

“Ow! Dad-”

“Sit.”

 My dad gives him a final glare and he sighs, cracking his knuckles before taking a seat next to me. Tuk scrambles next to my dad, nuzzling into his side, sticking her tongue out at lo’ak in a victorious manner.

Lo’ak points his two fingers to his own eyes before pointing them back at Tuk, and a clear ‘this isn’t over’ message is received.

Maybe it’s just my weird sense of peace I've felt all morning, but I attempt to park up a conversation with Lo’ak.

“Good morning baby bro.”

I swing my arm around him, ruffling at his braids. He stills his motion of munching into his slice of fruit, glancing up at me with a confused, cautious stare. As if my odd demeanor was an active minefield.

“Uhm. Hi..”

He side-eyed me curiously. Like my happiness was disgustingly contagious. 

His tail thumped against the floor. His eyebrow raised curiously at my stupid smile.

“What’s got you so bright and cheery?”

He glances over at Kiri, hoping for some kind of backup, only to see her silently praying to eywa before eating her food.

“Nothing. I just woke up feeling good.”

I shrug, snatching a slice of fruit from his little leaf he had arranged his stack of food on. The moment my teeth sink in, I'm slapped with the taste of sugared honey mixed with sunshine and sweet nectars. The flavor is resplendent. An unexpected soft groan leaves me as the juices trickle down my lips, I wipe them with my forearm. Why did everything today taste so much sweeter than usual?

Lo’ak stares at me as if he’s abhorred with my behavior.

“Dude..what the hell.”

My ears flick upwards as I turn to face the rest of the family, who’s now looking at me like I’m the epitome of bizarreness.  

My father snickers, helping Tuk peel her small fruit.

“Neteyam, should we give you and your fruit a moment alone.”

Lo’ak shivers, clearly uncomfortable. “Bro. could you not moan into your food in front of my breakfast.”

I shake my head, some of my braids falling over my shoulders. “Sorry, baby brother.” I laugh, but i’m not really sure why. I feel my face flush as i lean back into my spot.

“Dad, I think Neteyam is stroking out.”

Lo’ak snaps his fingers, trying to gather my father’s attention as he points to me.

My father shakes his head. “I already checked. It’s not a stroke.”

Mother hisses at both of them, passing a cut open fruit to Kiri, who as usual seems unbothered with our family’s shenanigans. 

“Both of you, leave him be. He is happy.”

I can always count on mama. 

Lo’ak shoots me a look.

“Why?”

I shrug.

“Why not? We have food, a family, a roof over our heads, we’re safe and happy, a strong clan and a lovely home.”

The woman I would die for no longer hates my guts. Hey, life is pretty good.

My mother smiles at me.

“See? You are not ill. One who takes time to appreciate all the great mother has given us is not sick.”

Lo’ak doesn’t seem convinced. He takes a big bite of his fruit, slowly eyeing me up and down.

My father clears his throat, sitting up a bit straighter. 

“While I have you kids here, I need you all to try and give y/n a little bit of space today.”

Kiri finally seems to engage in the current conversation now that Y/n is mentioned.

Tuk looks up, as well as my mother, Lo’ak and I.

“Is she okay? Is she sick?”

Tuk pouts, tugging on my fathers arm.

“Does she need anything? Is she hurt?”

It comes out before I can stop myself, trying not to sound too nervous.

Lo’ak groans

“Please don’t tell me she’s dead. That would really suck.”

My dad shakes his head gently reaching for Tuk’s smaller hand.

“No, guys. She’s okay. It’s just that she’s been through a ton these last few days. The poor thing’s burnt out. She needs some rest.”

Silent relief waves over me. I turn to Lo’ak as soon as I hear him speak.

“That doesn’t include me, right?”

He points at himself, a cocky smirk forming on his lips.

My dad glared at him.

“That means especially you. Ever since you could walk I had to pull you away from the poor girl kicking and screaming. And I am NOT about to do it again now that you’re this big. It’s a bad look for me.”

“That just shows we’re not supposed to be away from one another. It’s a sign from eywa. And you know I don’t play with the big lady upstairs.”

Lo’ak presses his lips on two fingers before reaching his hands up as if he’s kissing the sky.

My dad gives him a final warning look before he surrenders.

“Alright, fine. But if you get struck by lightning later it’s not my issue.

I’m gonna go on a walk.”

Lo’ak shoved his food into a small pouch before slinging it over his shoulder.

My mother frowns.

“With half of your breakfast in a pouch? You might as well just finish eating.”

Lo’ak waves her off. “Don’t worry, ma. I got a ton to do today.

I’ll just eat on the go.”

 mother gives him the leave to go, albeit reluctantly.

☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺𖦹₊⋆⁺☀︎₊

Y/n’s pov:

You woke up feeling so much better than yesterday. You and Spider haven’t spoken, but you can live with that for right now.

The only person you’ve spoken to since you’ve woken up is Mo’at. She was in nice company. And you certainly didn’t mind conversations with her.

It was a revitalizing contrast from the rush and endless chaos of of the last few days events, when the world didn’t feel to big, the air didn’t feel weighted, it was days like this you treasured.Today your hands weren’t victim to the relentless grip of your bow, your fingers free from the touch of the end of your arrows, your arms no longer aching from holding your shooting stance. No, today was a day you could drown in the acquiescence of having to do absolutely nothing.

Well, except maybe help Mo’at every now and then, but you hardly considered that physically draining.

You sat in her healing hut, grinding up some herbs as you cozied yourself up in the corner. You hummed one of your mother’s songs, the sound of the stone scratching against the bowl providing an odd backbeat.

Mo’at returned from her morning meetings with the clans healers, a long sigh dragged from her lips as she muttered complaints to herself, sitting down slowly.

You loved how she could make you laugh without effort.

“Something wrong?”

She waved off your concern, starting to gather some of the loose bowls strung around and stacking them in her arms.

“You know Menari??” She glances up at you, her tail flicking behind her.

You nod, a smile creeping up your face.

She sighed with irritation.

“Overmixed the herbs I tasked her with preparing because she was making eyes at Kalun.”

Ah yes, clan gossip. Who better to deliver such scandals than Tsahik herself?

You rolled your eyes, giggling at her exaggeration.

“They’re young, and in love. What else can you ask for?”

“I can ask for her to stop looking up at that scrawny man and do her job.”

You cackled, passing her the freshly grinding paste.

‘

“Awh, now that's not kind.”

She scoffed.

“You know what's not kind? I've seen sticks with more build than him and he still flaunts himself like he’s the prettiest peacock.”

You shrugged, moving on to preparing the next bowl

“At least he has confidence?”

Mo’at waves you off again. 

“When I was your age, I was shut away in my family’s tent speaking with the spirit’s, asking them to guide Eytukan to court me.”

“Oh here we go-”

“I prayed every night, child. I performed rituals and burned sacred plants.”

“Ma’tsahik, you’ve told me this story quite a few–”

She raised her hand, signaling for you to be quiet.

“Hush woman, I am not done.”

You sighed, strapping in for more of her spiritual seance stories.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good, now where was I?”

“Hm…I think you were at the sacred plants.”

A voice that didn’t belong to you or Mo’at spoke, causing you both to pause.

You turned around, spotting Lo’ak standing at the entrance of the tent, a pouch in his hands and a soft smirk on his face.

He strides his way inside without invitation, plopping himself down next to you and sprawling out his legs as he leaned on you.

You groaned, noyt appreciating being used as a seat.

“Lo’ak, what are you doing here?”

He blinked up at you, like him just throwing himself onto you was the most casual thing he could possibly do.

Which, to be fair, he did so often, it probably was by now.

“Did you really think I would leave you here to endure Grandma’s stories alone?? Of course not. So I brought you food,”

He tosses you the pouch.

“And the gift of my presence.”

Mo’at crosses her arms, staring at him with an unamused manner.

“I could have sworn your father informed me this morning to let Y/n rest, and not be dragged into anymore excursions for today.”

Lo’ak shrugged, munching on a fruit from the pouch that he handed you a half of.

“Y/n doesn’t mind me, besides, you know we don’t stay separated for very long.”

It was true. Ever since you were children, you and lo’ak had practically been a package deal.

Sleeping at each other's homes, not wanting to do anything unless you both could do it together, braiding each other's hair, and swapping and sharing bracelets, necklaces, armbands on the daily.

When Lo’ak was a toddler, he’d have a meltdown every time he had to go home after a day of playing with you.

And to be honest? He was right. You didn’t mind Lo’ak hanging with you today.

He wasn’t stressful when he didn’t want to be. You felt like you could talk to him about almost everything, secrets were rare between you and lo’ak, unless you both were keeping them from other people.

If you were the moon, he was the stars. Scattered across the abyss of the night sky, assuring that the darkness wouldn't be drowned in, dwelling with you in the comfort of nocturnal notions while still providing you the subtle comforts of luminescence.

And whether you both liked to admit it or not, you needed each other.

He was there for you when you mourned your mother and father. He was there for you with a blanket and a hug and some stupid joke to calm you when you woke up in the middle of the night hyperventilating. 

And you were there for him.

You were there when he almost died during his first attempt at iknimiya, calling him stiupid and hugging him until you couldn't breathe because a part of you swore you were about to loose your twin flame. 

And he was here now. Well, he was slouched over you with his legs spread and his arms floundered out. But..he was here.

You nudged hi9m to sit up straight, taking the fruit he offered you.

He spoke between mouth-fulls of munches.

“So, what's up with Kalun? I saw him lugging around a big basket of flowers.”

Lo’ak points with his thumb behind him, gesturing to the bustling clan outside going about with their daily tasks behind the closed tent flap.

Mo’at throws her arms up in exaggeration.

“Eywa, why does he insist on distracting that poor girl from her duties!?”

You weren’t a huge romantic, but you did find it sweet how he found time to bring Menari flowers.

“I think it’s sweet.” You hummed, continuing to grind up the herbs in the bowl.

Lo’ak gagged dramatically.

“Gross. I’m never going to mate with anyone.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Uh huh. Sure you’re not.”

He raised a brow, a challenging expression streaked his face.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Mo’at cuts you both off.

“Nothing. Lo’ak you’re going to have children and a mate because I demand great-grandchildren.”

A bust of a laugh leaves you, and you shove Lo’ak, who now stares at Mo’at in disbelief.

“And who are you to demand that i have kids?”

“The tsahik of this clan.”

You smirk triumphantly, smacking the back of Lo’aks head, earning a hiss from him.

“You’re screwed, bro.”

Lo’ak leans back, sighing dramatically.

“It’s so hard being sexy…I guess everyone wants me.”

It was your turn to gag, clutching your hand lightly around your throat to sell the idea.

“Not everyone.”

Mo’at sighs, as if recalling a memory that could only be one of her fondest.

“You know who everyone wanted? Your grandfather, now that’s a story-“

You and Lo’ak both groaned in sync.

☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺𖦹₊⋆⁺☀︎₊

You and Lo’ak had hung out almost all day inside mo’ats tent. And it was probably the most fun you’ve had in a while. 

Conversations with Lo’ak were always interesting to say the least. But if one thing was for sure, it was that there was no one you could possibly think of that you spoke to the way you spoke to Lo’ak. The two of you confided in one another. That meant now that Mo’at had left for the afternoon, there was nothing stopping you both from listening to each other's ramblings.

You told him a few minutes ago about the argument you had with Spider.

He was disappointed, and hated when you both were fighting, but he agreed that you both just needed some space.

So, he did what he did best.

Cher you up.

He was currently retelling a story that took place while you were away on a hunting trip with Neytiri a few weeks back, causing your absence during the event. Lo’ak clears his throat, continuing.

“So anyways, as she’s tying together her next row of knots, I notice that she forgot to do the loopy thing under the second layer of the armband, right?’

Lo’ak explains, making hand motions to try and create some sort of visual of the weaving motion Tuk was practicing.

You nodded, taking a sip of the tea Mo’at had made you, the smooth wood pressed against the inner of your lips for a moment.

“Uh huh.”

“So, I, being the good brother I am, decide stupidly to help the kid out.”

“Right. I mean, who wouldn't?”

“Exactly! So I tell her, ‘Tuk, that row is crooked’, and she has the AUDACITY to respond with ‘crooked like your haircut?’”

Your laughter vibrates down your body, and apparently it’s contagious because Lo’ak can’t help but cackle as well.

“Don’t fucking laugh you asshole. You’re the one who gave me this half shaved side shit, fuck you.”

He manages the last few words through his heavy breaths in between bouts of laughter.

“For the last time!”

You shriek, shoving him playfully.

“You don’t give an 12 year old a knife and expect them to perfectly cut someone’s hair!”

It seems like almost yesterday you and Lo’ak were hiding in a cave you found in the forest, not far from the clearing your clan resided in before high camp came into play.

You remember it perfectly, your mothers sharpest hunting knife she kept in a basket next to the entrance of your family’s marui along with various other weapons your parents kept out of reach from you and spider. He was sat infront of you on his knees, the backs of this thighs touching his shins while you kept yourself elevated behind him to provide you some sort of extra inches of height to better see Lo’aks head, as if that was going to make you know what the hell you were doing.

It didn’t. You remember him telling you to stop hesitating and just do it. He had been asking you for weeks to help him cut his hair since Jake wasn’t aloud to braid much less cut his children’s hair out of lack of confidence, and how Neteyam thought It was an insecurity thing and only responded with “You look great! There’s no need to cut it, baby bro.”

Neytiri didn’t like the idea of her 12 year old son wearing a style most adult warriors garb themselves with,and kiri just laughed when he asked her. 

You were his best option. You remember you and Lo’ak jumping up and down and squealing with excitement at the sight of a few of his braids falling to the ground, forming a circle around the two of you, and how that excitement slowly faded into fear when you both realized those few braids seemed much chunkier than at first glance. You fondly recall running back into the village with a giant leaf over Lo’ak’s head, making a bee-line straight for your family’s tent because going home to tell jake and neytiri was equivalent to walking into a thantors den after rubbing yourself in fragrant spices ready to be cooked and devoured. 

You could never forget your mothers face as she tried to comfort a frantic lo’ak, using her own tools to smoothe down the shaved plain.

To cut a long story short, that’s how Lo’ak got his side shaved. But it appeared Tuk had taken after your habit of never letting him live it down.

You both were out of breath from laughing once you both finished recalling the memory. It’s the terrible experiences that made you two stronger together.

 Lo’ak sighed, leaning back.

“Tuk’s spending too much time with you. You’re a shitty influence.”

You swatted at the back of his head, snickering softly.

A few beats of comfortable silence falls between you both, enjoying  just the feeling of moments like these.

“So, I’m not sure if I told you, but Neteyam was acting weird this morning.”

Your ears flick upwards at the mention of Neteteyam.

You carefully calculate your next words, attempting to make your curiosity seem as causal as a commodity, inconsequential and free of attribution relating to the feelings exchanged the night before. 

“Oh…was he okay?”

Real discreet, Y/n. Nice work.

Lo’ak paused to look up at you, his gaze cynically, clumsily trying to catch your heavily concealed sense of concern

“He was fine…I guess. I still think he was having a stroke.”

You rolled your eyes.

“He wasn’t having a stroke.”

“You weren’t there Y/n. The man acted like he Ingested 80 tons of helium and practically pranced around the marui. He was moaning into his fruit, and sighing every 2 seconds like he was in a dream or something.”

You scrunched up your nose at the visual of anyone being aroused by a fruit. 

“I’m sure he wasn’t ‘moaning’ into his fruit.”

You waved off the idea, Lo’ak scoffed.

“Uh huh. And the smiling-

Holy shit Y/n. This man would. Not. Stop. Smiling. It was insane.”

Come on, was he serious? Neteyam was fine…there’s no way this could be related to your conversation last night..right?

You gasped dramatically, widening your eyes as if you had the most sagacious epiphany, feigning stupidity for sarcasm. 

“Maybe he was..I don’t know..happy? Is that even possible for neteyam?”

Lo’ak was not amused.

“I’m telling you, something’s up with him.”

You sighed, shaking your head.

“Why would you think that? He’s probably just happy about something personal, maybe he set a goal for himself. Maybe he’s training differently or maybe he finally has that angled dive he’s always wanted to do on his ikran. The move your mom does with her bow? He’s always wanted to do that-“

Lo’ak looks at you like you’ve grown 6 extra tails. Maybe it was because you were rambling about Neteyam too personally. Nah. Maybe you really did grow 6 tails. 

Check just in case.

You cleared your throat, fidgeting with your bracelets. Acting like you weren’t just talking about something  Neteyam told you in private 3 years ago while you too were on a ‘date’ no one knew about. Because you were.

“..or something like that.”

Eywa must have been personally trying to provide you some amorality at that moment when Lo’ak shrugs you off.

“I don’t know. But I feel like if it was really something huge, he would have told his family about it. Right? Like, he doesn’t just keep that stuff from us…”

Point taken.

You placed a hand on his back.

“Look, Lo’ak, I’m sure Neteyam is fine. We all have..weird days, we can’t always be perfect.”

Lo’ak sighed, leaning back, letting his eyes flutter closed.

“You’re right. I mean, at least it’s not about you or some other girl.”

It slowly stings a little bit more each time it plays over and over in your head.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Lo’ak opened one eye.

“What?”

“You said ‘at least it’s not about you’. What does that mean, Lo’ak?”

Lo’ak, (somewhat stupidly, I must admit,) seemed surprised with your offended tone.

“I mean, at least it’s not about you. You know? Like you two aren’t dancing around eachother again.”

“What do you mean, ‘dancing around’ eachother?”

He sighed, rubbing his temple.

“Look, you don’t have to get upset-“

“I’ll decide whether or not I’ll get upset when you explain what the fuck that’s supposed to mean, Lo’ak.”

Lo’ak gulped, silently regretting ever opening his mouth.

“You and him are just…weird?-

No, weird is not the right word.”

You agreed, coldly.

“Clearly.”

He groaned.

“Stop putting me in a bad corner here, Y/n, you know what I mean.”

He was right. You didn’t have to be so harsh with him. You knew Lo’ak had a tough time articulating himself. And you getting angry probably wasn’t going to make that any better.

“Look, I’m sorry. It’s just..you’re so confusing when it comes to what I used to have with your brother.”

You and Lo’ak are both a bit uncomfortable when you say it aloud. It wasn’t very often you confessed to being romantic with Neteyam in the past, even if it was just to yourself. It was hard to face.

“Y/n we don’t have to talk about this, really.”

“No, i think we do.

You don’t like it when Neteyam used to bring me flowers, or take me out to go ride ikrans, or spend time with me, but you were there for me when he started to distance himself from me. All of this shit about ‘oh you can’t court my brother’ but when it finally falls, like any normal person who speaks like that would want it to, all the sudden you’re in the heartbreak hot seat with me. What is going on, Lo?”

Lo’ak was quiet for a Minute. And it’s actually kinda funny how he conducted himself in a similar manner to Jake when things like this happened.

“Because I care.”

“About what!?”

“About you!”

You were quiet for a moment.

“Because I should care when you start to love, or like or feel for someone! Because you’re like a sister to me. Because you’re the one I can come to when I fuck up with my dad or feel like I’m screwing everything up. You’re the one I can come to when the others are giving me a bunch of shit about being Neteyam’s perfect little brother, or whatever.

And yes, it’s so fucking weird to see my brother staring at you like you’re the most important thing on this entire planet. But you know what? It makes you happy. Am I gonna give you and Neteyam shit about it? Of course I am! It’s fucking disgusting. But you know what? It makes you both happy. So I can’t do a damn thing, and I don’t want to.

Am I gonna wanna kick his ass when he screws up? Of course I am. Am I gonna sit next to you and listen to you cry and scream and do all that angry relationship stuff that people do? Abso-fucking-lutely I am.

But you’re both still disgusting and full of love diseases.”

And now it all made sense. Lo’ak was your person. Half your heart in the form of a living soul.

To feel someone in such truth it aches.

And it wasn’t romance. It wasn’t sex or lust. It was a different kind of love.

The kind that meant that you could share a hammock with him and fight every urge not to kick him off when he starts to snore. The kind that meant you were the only one who trusted to braid his hair because neytiri wasn’t gentle enough and Jake was out of the question. The kind that meant that you had his back, and he had yours. 

You were his and he was yours. Sentiments are sensitive and romance is rigged but this went beyond fairytale endings.  Because you knew he would always stand next to you, tangled at the roots. And when the world seemed to be made out of nothing but unkept promises and sterling stained heartbreak, rusting off to a sickly shade of green that once shimmered gold, you found him.

And he was stupid and you loved him and his stupid stupidity that often led him to do stupid things, and of course you would always do them right along with him because he always said he didn’t want to die looking dumber than you. 

And if he asked you to loose your fucking mind with him you’d agree in a heartbeat with an extra pouch of food because he was always hungry. 

You smiled, the intangibility of this beautiful mess of a thing that only you two could create echoed through the air pulsing undercurrent that inhabited the stars that now turned a thousand shades of blue.

“Oh Lo’ak.”

You whispered, the endnotes query themselves upon pity.

“I know you care. But I can protect myself.

I thought that you’d know that better than anyone.”

He nodded, fidgeting with the bracelet that matched you’re own

“You’re right. I know. I’m just not ready to be..I dunno. It’s sounds stupid as shit but, alone?? That’s weird, right?”

“No, of course not. You’re not alone. You’ll always have me. But you don’t have to take every shot for me. That’s a job for my mouth and my fists.”

You smiled, mocking the boxing stance Jake had taught you and punching the air.

Lo’ak looked nauseous. “Y/n. Can we stop talking about your relationships and jobs you do with your hands and your mouth?”

You snickered shoving him.

“You’re so stupid.”

“I get it from you.”

A comfortable silence settled as he leaned his head on you’re shoulder. But there was something drumming at the back of your mind. An unfinished note that would

complete the song.

You sighed.

“Lo’ak, you know how we don’t keep secrets?”

He nodded, not bothering to lift his head.

“Yuh huh.”

“Well..I uh.”

You took a breath, gathering your words and placing them in the right order.

“I talked with Neteyam last night. And I hugged him-

I don’t know why I hugged him. There’s nothing going on but we’re all good now with what happened all those years ago. The past is in the past and I just thought you would know.”

Lo’ak was quiet for a moment.

“Aight.”

‘Aight’? That’s all you get?

“Really? That’s it?”

“Well, it’s disgusting, but as long as you two aren’t canoodling-“

“Trust me. I’m his teacher now. There will be no canoodling. I swear it.”

Lo’ak shrugged, his expression neutral. 

“Then my final verdict is in place. No getting pregnant and nothing below the waist.”

You snorted.

“You’re the boss.”

Another beat of silence settled.

Then, you got an idea.

“You wanna go race ikrans?”

A hint of mischief in your voice, he sighed.

“I’m off flight privileges for 2 more days for that stunt I pulled at the raid.”

You frowned, but it didn’t last long.

“You wanna go on a ride on Kailo? I’ll let you take shotgun.”

“Fuck yeah.”

☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺𖦹₊⋆⁺☀︎₊

Memes from this chapter

And some Lo’ak and y/n memes bc they’re besties

Authors note:

*in Backstreet Boys voice* ohmahgod we’re back againnn. 

First things first, I owe you all a huge apology. This chapter is way overdue, since I decided to re-write it halfway through like an idiot. But I’m fairly happy with how this turned out, which is rare for me. I’ve been a surf trip for the last few weeks and this summer I’m going on a lot more so that’s been kinda tough to find time to write on a laptop coming home from the beach all sandy and wet. 

But we’re back and the next few chapters will be written in close proximity to this time wise. I’m leaving the country on July 27 so I’m gonna try to get at least one more long chapter out before then. 

This is getting kinda long. But guys I have so much fun writing from Neteyam’s pov. The first time I wrote for neteyam was like 2 chapters ago and I was so so nervous about posting it bc I thought it sounded so cringe but you guys loved it so much, I’ve decided from now on there’s gonna be a neteyam pov in every chapter.

For these of you who know, Lo’ak is my son, my baby, my child, my pride and joy so obviously writing for him is also super fun. 

Okay this is getting so much longer than I planned. But I’ll see you lovelies next time!!

-Solana

Taglist 🪐🌑🪻 

@mntx666

@isnt-itstrange @thebestrouge

@bay7let

@fairuzwhat

@jackiehollanderr

@6423btw

@satesatesate2009

@OstargirlO

@heavenlysstuff

@dayyzlol

@iheartamajiki

@fluorynn

@bakugouswaif

@eljaynosine-triphosphate

(I just realized how long this taglist is getting guys…it’s actually getting me all teary eyed. Tysm for the support!)

[shu-box-puns]

I never would have given you to them; not for anything

(Tsu’tey x Reader)

Part 1 -> Next Chapter 

If you prefer to read on Ao3, you can find the fic here!

Summary: The RDA unknowingly revives a traitor through Project Phoenix. 

Word Count: 11,251

Reader uses they/them pronouns.

NOTE: The term 'Zaza' is a gender neutral way to address a parental figure.

Connecting to the Tree of Souls was always bittersweet for Tsu'tey.

Eywa was a kind mother. For a few short moments, he could be reunited with everyone he had previously lost. He could ask Eytukan for guidance on being Olo’eyktan, or speak with Sylwanin when his grief threatened to overwhelm him.

And other times, Eywa would gift him a glimpse into a vision that could’ve been his reality, if events had played out differently. 

The phantom of HomeTree was booming with life. Those who lived there were distant and concealed from view by the colossal roots of the great tree or simply occupying the foliage beyond its shade. Tsu’tey found himself sitting upon a log, his knife in hand which he was using to shape an arrow head.

A fire roared at his feet, meat cooking over the flames whilst the joyous yells of children darted to and fro behind his turned back. He couldn’t help but smile softly to himself, reminded of the early years in Spider’s development when the boy had finally grown large enough to comfortably fit into an exo pack. Tsu’tey had been delighted, eager to take his son from the confines of the demon compound and let him loose on the clan.

Spider took to the outside like an ikran to the sky. Staring in wonder as Tsu’tey carried him into the heart of the village. Na’vi of all stations had cooed at him, offering Tsu’tey honest congratulations even if their eyes had held poorly concealed hesitance at the toddler giggling against his chest. 

Within the hour, Spider had become fast friends with Jake’s children - Eywa help him - and was gleefully dirtying his loincloth as they tumbled and played. 

“He has grown significantly.” A voice to his left suddenly commented, ripping Tsu’tey from his private musings. He made to turn to whoever was sat with him, but some untold force kept his gaze glued to the arrowhead he was carving. 

“Children tend to.” Tsu’tey responded easily, the English falling thick and accented off of his tongue. 

His secret companion merely hummed, leaning into his side. Tsu’tey caught sight of blue skin in his peripheral. Five fingered hands falling to demon style clothed knees. His expression tightened. Confusion swirling beneath his skin.

“A mighty warrior in the making.” The stranger praised, undercurrents of pride lacing their tone. “I am glad his aim has greatly improved.”

Tsu’tey lifted his gaze from the arrowhead as the words registered. His questioning response was halted by the sudden absence of the clan chatter and the crackling of the flames at his feet. His eyes flickered, expressing softening as he realised the scenery had changed.

Now, he and his companion sat on a tree branch overlooking the Omaticaya flight range. Targets lined the far perimeter, whilst na’vi of all ages stood in uniformed rows at increasing distances from the targets, their bows drawn. Tsu’tey’s gaze immediately zeroed in on Spider.

Here he was about twelve, Neteyam alongside him as the two practised in companionable silence. Despite being a full year younger, Neteyam easily towered over the older boy, his frame lean and long, whilst Spider had grown strong and thick in the shoulders. His son held his bow with ease, the strain long having lessened with hours of practice.

The presence at his side had shrunk somehow. The warmth no longer reached his shoulder. A soft brush of skin to his lower bicep indicating that the na’vi who had sat with him had shrunk to a more human stature.

Tsu’tey could not place who this was. They did not sound like Grace Augustine who possessed both avatar and human forms on the off chance she visited him in the tree. Nor had he befriended any of the scientists who possessed avatar bodies.

A celebratory whoop drew his attention back to Spider, who was receiving awed high fives from Neteyam. Glancing to the target, Tsu’tey swelled with pride at the three perfect bullseyes. 

He blinked, and he was in the old shack. Although in his present the stolen compound was overrun with wildlife and had fallen into disrepair, here, it looked well preserved. As fresh and disorganised as it had been the night the humans left for good. 

It looked homely. 

Lived in. 

He was sitting on a bunk much too small for his large frame with a baby carrier strapped across his chest. His son was nowhere to be seen in this particular vision, but as always, he felt no sense of panic within Eywa’s care. He simply observed the small room around him, noting that the presence at his side had disappeared with the flight range.

The messy sheets he sat on told of a good night’s rest. The military boots neatly lined up by the door and the camouflage jacket hanging on the back of it, reassuring him that whoever he was visiting was close by. 

Tucked under the window, the desk was a mess of coffee stained reports and various pens. Even from the other side of the room, he could make out the shakily written na’vi phrases repeated over several pages. He’d never seen his language written out before, since his people had no use for it, but somehow he instinctively knew the phrases.

Oel ngati kameie.

I see you.

Three words his mate had been practising behind his back. A secret he was very much aware of, but content to allow them to figure out. 

The sound of the door opening drew his attention from the desk, and he found said mate looming in the doorway, their son cradled to their chest. They looked exhausted but proud of themselves. Spider was sound asleep, nestled into their tanktop, with one chubby fist clenched tightly around the courting necklace Tsu’tey had presented them with several moons ago. 

“I finally got him to drop off.” His mate sighed happily as they stepped further into the room and quietly pulled the door closed behind them.

Tsu’tey could only hum. Greedily drinking in the sight of his mate and son. Gazing at the face that had been snatched from his too early, and the youth and innocence of Spider. He was sixteen now, years past infancy, but still Tsu’tey’s little boy. Whilst his mate was frozen in time. Forever held by Eywa.

“You good big guy?” The use of that ridiculous nickname snapped him back to the present. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

His lips stretched into a tight smile. The irony. 

“I am fine.” He insisted. His english heavily accented and rusty from disuse. Since Spider had become fully fluent in na’vi, he hardly ever had to use the demon tongue. But somehow, Eywa always switched them back to that language, despite having learnt plenty of na’vi through him.

Their proud grin dropped a fraction, their eyebrows drawing together. “Are you lying to me?”

He scoffed. “Olo’eyktan’s do not lie.” He said simply.

“You aren’t Olo’eyktan here.” They argued. Approaching him on quiet feet. 

Feeling called out, Tsu’tey had to work hard to keep his ears from flicking back in guilt. Instead, he chose not to respond as his mate stepped into his space. Their scent wafted over him as they expertly manoeuvred the slumbering infant into the net tied across Tsu’tey’s chest. The motion was practised; familiar in a way his mate hadn’t had time to master.

Spider went easily. Instinctively curling into his father’s warmth and finding something new to latch onto. This time, Tsu’tey was not fast enough to keep his son from grabbing onto one of his braids. Even in sleep, Spider yanked hard on the braided lock of hair, making Tsu’tey wince. His mate chuckled softly, reaching up to carefully untangle Spider’s fist, to which the infant immediately curled his fingers around their index instead. 

The scene was domestic. Something he had mourned when his mate had passed.

“You look tired.” His mate stated, those eyes studying his expression. 

Tsu’tey could only nod. What use was lying to a memory anyway?

“I am.”

“You should rest.” 

They titled their head, and Tsu’tey knew this was a battle he had no hope of winning. “Spider is waiting for you.” They said.

Carefully, they raised their free hand to hold his cheek, their expression worried. He leaned into the touch, savouring the warmth of their tiny hand against his cool skin.

His words were slow to come back to him. But they waited patiently, idly tracing the stars of his freckles as he gathered himself, his breathing uneven. “No. I want to stay here, with you.” 

There was a power behind their words now. A greater knowledge they should not be privy to. Tsu’tey knew this wasn’t his mate speaking to him anymore. Despite looking and sounding like his human, this was Eywa gently nudging him. Reminding him that he had responsibilities to attend to and a son waiting beyond her realm.

He followed his mate’s nod towards the window where he found a sixteen year old Spider standing patiently at the treeline, looking longingly towards the compound. He knew without looking down that the infant was gone from the sling at his chest. His son wore his exopack and was wringing his hands, head darting too and fro in search of someone. Rocking on the balls of his feet as often did when unsettled.

Tearing his gaze from his son, Tsu’tey found and held eye contact with the Great Mother disguised as his lost mate. “Will you allow him to visit today?” He asked.

“He will See soon.” Eywa replied in their voice, untold power building behind every word. 

His mate’s hands were small but strong as they took him by the wrists and helped him rise from his seat on the bed. “He is waiting.” They informed him, gently guiding him away from the desk littered in papers and towards the closed door. Tsu’tey’s heart ached at the familiar gesture. This part was always the hardest.

“He misses them.” He told Eywa and she could only nod in acknowledgement. “He watches their video logs.” He insisted, stomach sinking at the thought of his mate not knowing how badly Spider loved and missed them. That they might believe they had faded from the child’s memory, when in truth they’d always played such a crucial role. “He asks about them, always. Demanding memories, facts. Anything.”

“He will See soon.” Eywa repeated, and Tsu’tey knew she understood. 

They squeezed his hand and he realised he was standing before the door with the boots neatly lined up beside it. He glanced at them one last time, absorbing all their little details and committing them to memory. His mate smiled at him one last time, before they dropped his hands and stepped back. 

“I know.”

“You will See soon.” Eywa assured him, but Tsu’tey was no Tsahik and did not understand how to interpret the phrase. So he simply nodded.

>_&lt;

They said no more as he raised his hand to push the door open, and in kind, Tsu’tey could only nod as his words got lost in his throat. Instead of responding, he turned and stepped out of the bedroom into the hall. 

The sounds of the forest came back to him slowly. He felt the change of the humidity as Eywa gently returned him to his body. He sat crossed legged under the glowing vines of the Tree of Souls, his heartbeat still pounding in time to the gentle pulses of the ancient tree. Animals moved in the bushes behind him, uncaring of his presence and content to go about their evening. 

He felt the familiar dry, flaky sensation of mourning paint running from the top of his brow down the line of his nose to his chin. His bullet scars felt stiff against his skin with every deep breath. Whilst a body leant into his side. Small and warm in a way that na’vi were not. 

Slowly, Tsu’tey peeled his eyelids open and glanced down to find Spider curled into him. His exopack was digging uncomfortably into Tsu’tey’s ribs, but he didn’t care. Now sixteen, his boy leaned into his side and had dragged Tsu’tey’s arm out of his lap to rest across his back. Keeping him safe and secure whilst his father communed with the ancestors. 

His tail swayed happily at the adorable sight. 

Sensing a shift in him, Spider groggily raised his head from Tsu’tey’s rib cage. His eyes were unfocused as he lifted his heavy head, only to find Tsu’tey already looking at him. He blinked slowly, drawing in a deep breath as he stretched and sat up. 

<”Who was it today?”> Spider asked in fluent na’vi, his tone heavy with sleep. 

Tsu’tey felt the corner of his mouth stretch upwards into an adoring smile. His boy was so precious. <”Zaza.”> He replied simply, to which Spider returned his smile. 

<”It is late.”> Spider agreed, to which Tsu’tey playfully ruffled his braids, ears pricked at the boy’s mischievous grin. Carefully, Tsu’tey reached up and disconnected his kuru from the tree, sending a prayer of thanks to Eywa for her gift.

<”And where did you end up going?”>

<”The old shack.”> Tsu’tey replied simply, reaching up to disconnect his tswin from the Tree of Souls. <”They were trying to convince you to go to bed.”>

<”We should return to the village.”> 

<”Only if you carry me.”> Spider stated, lifting his arms expectantly to Tsu’tey who rolled his eyes.

<”You have been hanging around Lo’ak too much. So whiny.”>

<”You are old enough to carry yourself.”>

<”But it’s late!”> Spider retaliated. 

<”Don’t let him hear you say that or he’ll become ten times worse.”> Considering the boy was Jake’s son, Tsu’tey didn’t doubt it. 

>_<

The last thing you remembered was lying down in a link unit. 

The smell of silicone had been poisonously strong in the tight space as one of the scientists closed the lid on you with a firm click. Your heart had been pounding, your plan to escape and meet up with Jake plaguing your mind. Distracting you from the half assed explanation of why Selfridge had ordered all military personnel into the link rooms.

You weren’t sure if you made it out of Hell’s Gate that night, let alone if Trudy had managed to drive you to the secret compound. If you’d been caught, or if your squad had noticed your absence. 

Not that any of it mattered now, considering you were in outer space and the Battle for The Tree of Souls had ended fifteen years prior. 

Now, you stared blankly at the pre-recorded video of yourself in that same laboratory. In the video, you were decked out in your usual, military attire and were horribly explaining what was going on. Floating in zero gravity, your hand - now blue and much, MUCH bigger than you were used to - kept you in place before the monitor with an unnervingly tight grip.

The you of the past wasn’t focused on their task. You could tell from the shift of their eyes as marines moved around them behind the camera. In a similar situation, your nerves were also all over the place. Your eyes were constantly darting around the small bunk room as your tail thrashed. So many enemies in such a small place.

It had been a fucking shock to wake up disoriented on a small hospital bed with a heart monitor beeping away in the background. Only for a massive, blue forehead to dart into your line of sight, dragging with it, a pair of large, unblinking eyes. You screamed, flailing weakly at the enormous bald head of Lyle Wainfleet.

You recalled blinding rage in your most recent memory of this man.

He had grinned at you, yelling loudly, “morning Private!” 

You had punched him, that past anger carrying over as you shoved him away with an additional well placed kick to the stomach and a ferocious hiss. Movement in the corner of your vision kept you from following him down, intending to choke the life out of his stupid, grinning face.

Alexander had been quick to grip your bicep, holding on tightly. He was smiling at you. And it was fucking disorientating to see his face on a na’vi body, his eyes too far apart and his nose flatter than you were used to. It stunned you into stillness.

On the floor, Lyle had chuckled good naturedly and complimented you on your improved strength. 

You hadn’t responded, your eyes widening as you took in your reflection in the one way window. It was you, but it also wasn’t you staring back. 

On the monitor, the human version of you scratched the back of their neck, clearly reading off of a script to the side of the camera, blurting some bullshit about the RDA storing your memories and implanting them in an avatar embryo. Your expression remained neutral as you glanced down to past-you’s throat. 

Mostly hidden beneath the hem of their camouflage shirt, you caught sight of a pretty little choker, the polished beads catching the laboratory lights. It was simple in design, layered three times tall with long, brown beads as the centrepiece, framed either side by carefully selected circular red beads.

Subconsciously, your blue hand reached to your own throat, frowning at the naked skin only for your fingers to catch on the metal chain of your dog tag. It sent a stab of phantom pain through your chest, which you were quick to rub away.

You remembered who had given it to you. What he had been to you. But you didn’t know how it had ended. If the RDA had resurrected you for this stupid little project, then chances were, the human version of you was dead. 

You had no idea who had died during the Battle of The Tree of Souls - clearly a lot of you judging by the number of recoms the RDA had paid for. There was no solid knowledge on how far the RDA had won, or how much of Pandora they had destroyed. For all you knew, everyone could be dead. The Omaticaya clan wiped off the face of the planet. 

The windows of your little bunk room overlooked the vast embryo tanks of the recoms. As you half-listened to the video, you watched a trio of three scientists carefully extracting the body, of who you recognised to be the na’vi version of Mansk, from the closest tank. They took great care in cleaning the embryonic fluid from his airways before flying the body out of sight through an open door. 

/Remember Private,/ the video stated, drawing your attention back once more, /the mission is not over./ There was something unreadable in human you’s eyes, their rage momentarily broadcasted across the screen. /Fight hard. Make me proud./ 

They couldn’t see you, but you found yourself nodding anyway. 

Those words gave you a direction. Past you didn’t believe the fight was over, so you just had to pick up where you left off. And to do that, you needed to get back into the forest.

>_<

The RDA had made special uniforms for all the recoms and required you to be dressed and ready to move into the base upon landing. Their first mistake was willingly handling you a gun. Evidently, they had never recognised you as a traitor. You’d died with them still believing you were loyal. Now, you would exploit that weakness.

For now, you decided to play nice until they willingly unleashed you into the forest. You made jokes with Lyle, established yourself as one of the team. Laughing with the other recoms about escaping death, making wild accusations about what you’d do the next time you saw that traitor; Jake Sully. 

It was easy. As it always had been. 

As if nothing had changed. Like you were back in school and you’d all come back from the summer having had growth spurts and been up to god knows what.

As a squad, you fitted together effortlessly. Falling into a routine of sleeping in the dorms, getting up early for drills and training, only to spend the evenings goofing around. The recom bodies were years younger, practically brand new, so the energy required for such shenanigans was effortless. 

Within a week, it felt like nothing had changed. The squad was blissfully unaware of what you had done in your past life behind their backs. To them, you were still their comrade. 

Initially, you’d attempted to keep your distance.

The forest called to you. It’s pull even stronger now with the additional na’vi instincts, and the small hallways of Bridgehead that were clearly not built with you in mind. You felt out of place in its tiny, box-like layout. 

Your comrades weren’t too sneaky in trying to ease your nerves and welcome you into their chaotic escapades. 

Lyle had always been an overbearing extrovert, chomping at the bit to challenge you into pushing yourself harder and harder during drills. 

Mansk, in his own quiet way, insisted on dragging you to the kitchen every mealtime to assist him with cooking. He stated that he had no idea what to do with the new Pandoran ingredients required for their recom bodies, but you could tell he was bullshitting you to keep you out of your head. It worked; mostly. 

Whilst Z-Dog had taken it upon herself to make sure your shooting skills were up to scratch - they were. And had sparked many competitions out in the shooting range.

Even the colonel seemed to have caught on. And that man was in no form of the imagination a family man. He was a leader. Your boss. The man you had to impress or risk getting killed. But recently, he’s been acting like some weird version of a father figure. Offering silent nods and backhanded compliments in his usual condescending tone whilst observing your training with your comrades. It would always be paired with a playful smack to the shoulder or a rough ruffle of your hair whilst the squad sniggered.

It was easy to remember why you’d stuck with them for so long. Because despite their missions and the people they killed, they had been your family on Pandora since you’d woken up from cryo sleep. A reluctant one. A ragtag bunch of trigger happy idiots, but they’d always watched out for you.

You also knew that they would kill you if they ever found out about your little personal mission. They made you feel safe within Bridgehead, but you knew they would turn on you instantly. 

Lyle wouldn’t hesitate to cuff you and drag you to the colonel. Whilst Quaritch would go real quiet, ordering you to hand over your gun which he would use to shoot you on the spot. Z-Dog would make it look like an accident, whilst Mansk would hide behind his sunglasses and deal with business himself, stealing your dog tags to take back to the colonel.

It was imperative you remained vigilant. If anyone remembered or found out, you were fucked. So you had to get out. Fast. At the first opportunity. You could figure it out from there.

>_<

The moment the samson chopper landed in the undergrowth of the rainforest, you leapt out. Lyle was hot on your tail, peeling away from your side to secure the perimeter as the helicopter finished landing. 

You didn’t bother pretending to be scoping the landscape. 

The hum of the forest had grown steadily stronger throughout the trip, and now it slid through you like a melody. Calling to you more strongly than you’d ever felt. You took in greedy lungfuls of the damp, humid forest air. The scents of dew and vegetation invaded your nose, a world away from the canned air the recoms were forced to breathe in Bridgehead. Your ears swivelled towards every little sound, tail swaying to show content despite the mission ahead. Pandora was as gorgeous as she had ever been. The dappled sunlight peeking through the trees as the exotic fragrance of the plants filled the air. 

As a human, it had never been this pretty. Behind an exo pack, you had never been able to smell the world, whilst the sights had been smudged by the acrylic screen. 

This was freeing on an entirely new level.

Someone smacked you upside the head, abruptly shattering the nostalgia of finally returning to the forest. You choked, spinning in place and immediately stood to attention under the Colonel’s unimpressed glare. “What are you playing at Private?” He barked.

You could see the rest of the squad pretending not to look your way. Z-Dog and Walker had promptly turned their backs, clinging to each other as if it was the funniest thing in existence. 

“Apologies sir, I got excited.” You replied sheepishly. "Needed to stretch my legs."

“Focus!” Quaritch stressed with an eye roll. 

“Yes, sir.”

He nodded once before motioning to the others and leading the way into the undergrowth. 

You fell into line, gun aimed on your surroundings as the squad moved further and further away from base. 

Within the hour, the squad stumbled upon a broken AMP suit collapsed in front of an abandoned compound. The building looked like one of the remote link compounds the scientists used to use during avatar exertions. What it was doing so far away from its assigned location, you had no idea.

Quaritch immediately issued orders for the site to be secured. Whilst Z-Dog investigated the building, the rest of the squad fanned out into the clearing. Half went to search the undergrowth, whilst you remained nearby, eyes more focused on the compound than the forest.

The colonel and Wainfleet remained close to the AMP suit, quietly analysing the corpse impaled within the ribcage of the dismantled robot. 

You swept close on your return pass, ears pricked as Quaritch glared daggers at the skull. Peering over his shoulder, your eyes widened at the pair of na'vi arrows jutting out of moss covered bone and the scar of a viperwolf scratch carved into the skull.

Quaritch's corpse.

And whoever had got him had been merciless in finishing him off.

The sight made you uneasy. Reminding you of the threats Pandora possessed. You were glad when a shout from the forest and the call for backup drew you from the suit.

No one knew how long the kids had been there. Whether they’d gotten curious and followed from the moment the samson touched down, or if they had been lingering around the shack. Either way, the petrified scream of the youngest girl had drawn the rest of your squad to the scene. 

There were three na’vi kids in total, and one human child. All held hostage by a recom, whilst Quaritch interrogated each of them. You watched the scene from the sidelines, assuming Quaritch would decide they weren’t worth it and let them go. 

But when the na’vi boy swore at him and Quaritch grinned with a simple, ”you’re his.”

Jake’s, you realised. 

Your heart began to pound as you rounded the rear of the group, eyes narrowed as you took in the side profile of the boy. His too small eyes, the slope of his jaw, the fifth finger on each hand. At a glance, a full blooded na’vi. But you’d been around avatars long enough to pick out the little imperfections. The broader set to his shoulders, the lower position of his kuru that indicated human blood somewhere in the line. 

Quaritch was precise in his motions. Taking the kid’s kuru in hand to begin interrogating him. The colonel was rough with him. Spitting sharp commands before yanking his knife from his thigh strap. The boy’s eyes widened a fraction. You saw the raw fear swimming within them as he stared blankly up at the snarling colonel. Refusing to back down. Refusing to waver. 

Quaritch’s expression tightened as he raised the knife a fraction. Logically, you knew the first strike would be a fake, to scare the boy into spilling information with minimal effort. You were lurching forward half a step, ears fanning wide in alarm before you could stop yourself. 

The motion of that knife froze mid air, a testament to the Colonel’s reflexes as his burning eyes flickered to you. You made an effort to smooth out your microexpressions, hands limp at your side instead of reaching for a weapon like you so desperately wanted to. Something in the kid’s face had made something tight and protective flare up between your ribs, and the Colonel had noticed. 

Quaritch’s gaze was stern as shook his head in disappointment. “Don’t go getting soft on me, Private.” He reminded, grasp shifting on the kid’s kuru. “I know you had a soft spot for them back in the day, but none of that bullshit now.”

“Sorry sir.” You grit out, but didn’t retreat. He glared at you, you maintained steady eye contact until Wainfleet pulled Quaritch’s attention to the older na’vi girl. He had her fingers splayed for the colonel to see, chuckling at her five fingers. 

Their conversation quickly dissolved into the back of your mind as Quaritch handed the na’vi boy off, putting blessed distance between the kid and his knife. 

Tracking the Colonel’s movements as he approached the older girl, you found your attention drawn by the human boy. You blinked at his intense gaze, at the storm of unexplainable emotions swimming behind his eyes that you felt dizzy just looking at him. Despite his face being locked away behind an exopack, his gaze was no less piercing. He seemed to see you. 

The squint of his eyebrows seemed to suggest he saw you. Not a soldier. Not a recom. Just you. As if he could see beneath the scientifically created body to the memory chip beneath, to what remained of your soul.

But that was probably just you projecting.

To distract yourself from the tightening of your chest, you also studied him as your comrades kept interrogating the children. Their voices grew distant as you inspected the blue stripes painted across tanned skin. The traditional Omaticayan weaving style of his armband as well as the songcord attached to the hem of his loincloth. 

Your eyes caught on the necklace at his throat. A style that matched the one your human body wore in the video. Down to the brown and red beads. The familiar weaving style. Even at this distance, you recognised Tsu’tey’s handiwork. 

And whilst it reassured and relieved you that he was still alive, that somehow, in some way, this child had a piece of him, you were confused. How had he gotten his hands on one of Tsu’tey’s pieces?

Then he steeled himself. Quaritch’s bulk warmed your back, his shadow falling over your left arm. In a shockingly gentle tone, Quaritch asked for the boy’s name, and surprisingly, he gave it.

”Spider Socorro.” He blurted in strained english. 

Your ear flickered back at the colonel’s sharp inhale. “Miles?” 

Spider straightened, chin lifted in defiance. “Nobody calls me that.”

Quaritch’s expression was unreadable. He didn’t bother to respond and stepped away to talk into his neck piece. He didn’t go far and simply turned his back, speaking to Ardmore as the squad shifted uneasily. 

The kids hissed as the recoms began moving them towards the compound where the shuttle would more easily be able to let down the ropes. Your stomach tightened at the thought of dragging them back with you. To know how they felt and be unable to offer sympathy.

Quaritch motioned to the children. ”Keep hold of ‘em. Shuttle will be here in ten.”

Your stomach dropped. Not the shuttle. Not yet. You couldn’t stomach the idea of going back to Bridgehead after this. After such a short taste of freedom. 

”Colonel.” You said loudly, making the man pause midstep. He levelled you with an unreadable look as you struggled to find your voice. “These kids are useless to us.”

As soon as the words left your lips, his expression visibly shut off and you knew you would not be able to get through to him. “I’m not gonna repeat myself, Private.” He snapped, pulling rank to put you in your place. You squared up to him. Chin lifted.

A distant bird call had your ears pricking. It was short. A burst of a sound. It had the kids straightening, all their ears fanning towards the sound. 

The bird called again. That one note echoing through the trees.

Shifting uneasily, your eyes followed the direction it had come from, momentarily breaking eye contact. Quaritch smirked as if he’d won a great battle. “Take the na’vi boy.” He ordered, motioning to the kid who was promptly handed over, and then raised his voice to the squad. “Into defensive positions!”

The group fell into formation as the sun began its nightly cycle behind the moon, bringing with it a rain storm. The boy’s neural whip between your fingers quickly grew saturated, making your weak grip slip with every sharp movement he would make. That bird call did not grow distant or stop. In fact, you could’ve sworn it was getting closer.

There was a moment of stillness. The forest holding its breath as the recoms kept whispering to each other, kept moving noisily through the undergrowth. Blind to the silent warning. 

You held your breath, going unnaturally still as the boy in front of you did the same.

There was a cut off shout. An explosion of movement near the main body of the group.

Keeping your position, your head snapped towards the sound. Mouth going dry at the na’vi arrow protruding from Fike’s skull. It had embedded itself into his eye socket, almost straight through.

Whatever was making that sound had clearly found the squad. And it wasn’t pleased.

As the group erupted into chaos, you saw your chance. Loosening your grip on the kid’s kuru, you slowly stepped back, praying the steady movements would not draw that hunter’s eye to your form. The kid spun to face you, wrists bound, looking wide eyed and terrified. 

You raised your hands in surrender, head dipping. <”Get out of here.”> You hissed, nodding to the trees. 

His ears fanned wide as a satellite. Momentarily frozen in time. Eyes studying your own for the trick.

A gun went off at his back, snapping him out of it. More arrows were fired and more recoms died. 

He turned his back to you, and with a burst of speed began shepherding his little sister towards the treeline. The girl went easily, grabbing at his bound wrists and dragging him away. 

You kept your attention on their backs, hand hanging close to your gun in case someone turned their attention on you. 

The recoms were dying in disorganised clusters. The smart ones like Wainfleet and Z-Dog had already taken cover behind trees as the onslaught of arrows threw everyone else out of formation, causing them to scramble for cover. It gave you a sick sense of satisfaction. 

A shout drew your attention. 

Walker had the older girl by her kuru after she’d tried to make a break for it with Spider. She struggled as she yanked her back, her gun useless in her focus on keeping hold of her. 

Your gaze narrowed. Your rifle was in your hands before you could think to check if anyone was looking. The trigger was smooth under your finger. And with a light squeeze the machine roared to life and shot a hole through the tree to her left. 

Walker shrieked, hand spasming in fear as she instinctively let go of the girl’s neural whip. Spider was quick to grab her arm and run away, whilst an arrow found its mark in the recom’s chest. She collapsed in a heap. Dead on impact.

You grimaced. 

The rain muffled your footsteps as you carefully retreated into the shadows of the trees. Thankfully, the squad was too preoccupied to notice your silent escape. 

You felt like a traitor for withdrawing into the forest quietly. Which was funny considering that’s what you were. Your ears were pricked and your body low. Eywa must have wanted you to succeed because no arrow pierced your back. 

The screaming from the small clearing had begun to die down now, but was quickly replaced by the sound of a machine gun going off. Definitely Mansk’s hand, he had always been quick to react in any situation. You quickened your pace, knowing the distance those things could reach. 

The aim was to get as much distance between you and the squad as possible. Then, you’d tear off any and all equipment that would hinder your survival out in the forest until you stumbled across a clan and could ask for uturu. The word and its meaning came to you from a distant memory. A simpler time when Grace had been ranting about some new discovery she’d observed out in the field whilst you’d simply been trying to microwave your dinner. 

One of the explosions went off a little too close to you. Making your pace falter as your head snapped up to watch the branches above burst into flames. You squinted as a figure got thrown clean off by the blast. They seemed to collide with every branch and bush in existence on the way down, screaming the whole way.

<”SPIDER!”> Yelled the older girl from before, appearing over the lip of the branch but not daring to jump after him.

Instinctively, you leapt forward, gun falling back on its strap as your arms came up to catch the falling kid. He crashed into your embrace with a punched out wheeze. Blood oozed from many cuts, whilst his back was warm to the touch, not burnt, but still caught by the flames. 

Another explosion went off, spurring you back into motion. You tried to set the kid down, but he groaned painfully, clutching at your bullet proof vest as his legs failed to hold his weight. 

“Shit.” You cursed under your breath. Glancing back to the branch, you realised the girl was still there. Still watching your every move. And still way too close to Quaritch and his squad. To the inbound airship. 

Shifting the kid so he was supported by one of your arms against your body, you strained to relieve your feet of the heavy duty avatar boots. The laces were slippery from the rain, slithering out of your grasp and making you growl lowly to yourself. It felt like hours, but it could’ve only been seconds before you were barefoot, your shoes and socks discarded in the undergrowth. 

”Hold on tight!” You instructed the kid, who dutifully wound his shaking legs around your ribcage and hooked his arms around your neck. You supported his back with one arm whilst you scrambled to begin climbing back up the hill he’d just tumbled down.

The soil was loose from the rain. The bushes offering no firm support due to your weight, their roots easily giving way if you dared hold onto them for support. 

You hadn’t climbed anything in this body yet. With the base possessing stairs, and your memories of climbing trees locked away in a past life, there was no real need to. And yet, it came easily to this body. As if it had been born to scale the trees of the Pandoran rainforest despite being grown by aliens in a test tube. 

The girl was quick to grab the back of your bullet proof vest once you were high enough. Heaving you up onto the branch with her whole body thrown back. Curling your toes into the uneven bark, you swayed in place, tail compensating for your shit balance. ”We need to move.” You insisted, once again readjusting your grip on the shivering child in your arms.

She nodded dutifully. ”This way.” You kept a hand on her bicep to steady her as she took off down the branch, leading you away from the gunfire. 

With practised ease, she reached the end of the branch and smoothly dropped to the forest floor before scrambling away. You were slower in following, your body protesting the intense movements before your knees groaned at the sloppy landing. To his credit, Spider didn’t complain as the jerky ride, his eyes half closed behind his mask. 

You pushed through the bushes to find the three na’vi kids waiting by some ikran. Eying the beasts wearily, you slowed your pace, listening to the older girl reassure her siblings with soft words at your approach.

You needed to be quick. The owner of those arrows would be returning for their kids soon. And whether or not it was Jake, they’re bound to kill you on sight without checking your face.

”He’s wounded. You must get him to the Tsahik quickly.” You explained as you approached, dropping into a crouch to set Spider down gently at the kids’ feet. He protested again, putting up a valiant fight to keep a hold of you, but you were stronger than him. Your touch was firm as you removed his limbs from you and sat him down.

Kiri was quick to drop to his level, frowning hard at his bloodied appearance. Feeling sorry for the wounded kid, you dared to take a couple of extra seconds pulling out a knife from your belt to cut him free.

He pouted as he rubbed the circulation back into his wrists. Those piercing eyes darting all over your face.

You turned to leave, but the youngest kid was quick to waddle up to your side, her bound wrists extended. ”Can you cut me loose too?”

”I /really/ need to go.” You reply softly, before cutting her loose anyway.

You shifted back, only for the older pair to immediately extend their arms expectantly. You audibly groaned, before reaching for the boy since he was closest. 

”Zaza?” Spider croaked, making your brows furrowed at the odd word. Around you, the older kids had gone unnaturally still. <”Is that you?”>

”Zaza?” You repeated, finding the word felt odd on your tongue. It sparked a distant memory, of a late night sprawled on a bunk with someone beside you. Someone tall and distracted. The memory brought with it a sense of dread; a distant threat. You discarded that train of thought before it could distract you for too long.

<”It can’t be.”> The na’vi girl commented, and now it was her turn to begin studying you. 

”I don’t know what that means.” You pleaded, hands frozen in time, the knife still poised. A headache was beginning to form between your eyes, and your stress levels were incredibly high, but no one was giving you a straight answer. All you knew for certain was that you didn’t recognise this boy, and yet, he looked at you as if he knew you. 

<”Holy shit.”> Was all Spider replied with, slumping against the forest floor. 

<”No way.”> The na’vi boy agreed with a laugh. He was grinning hard, ears perked. 

His younger sister looked as confused as you felt. Whilst the older girl was inspecting you in a way similar to how Grace used to look at something that deeply fascinated her.

Out of nowhere a large, calloused hand wrapped around your shoulder, yanking you back and away from the kids. The hand moved with the momentum, throwing you off balance to land hard on your back. You gasped loudly, your knife flying away into the bushes. The kids were already yelling as you struggled to gather your bearings.

The barrel of an old model RDA rifle came into focus, inches from your face, making you gulp loudly. Following the line of the weapon, your gaze travelled up a blue arm to a scowling face that you hadn’t seen in decades.

<”JAKE DON’T!”> Spider yelled. Despite the frantic edge in his voice, he remained unmoving. His eyes as large as the moon as he stared unblinkingly up at the na’vi’s turned back. 

<”DAD! NO!”> The oldest girl shrieked, clumsily shoving her bound hands into the na’vi’s stomach, her eyes wide and pleading. 

The boy was quick to jump to your defence. <”They helped us escape Dad- SIR! Don’t!”> 

<”DADDY!”> The youngest shrieked, joining in at her older siblings’ reactions. She promptly latched herself onto his leg, clingy tightly and making his strong stance waver. If you weren’t seconds from dying - again - it would’ve been a comically domestic scene. 

You shifted your gaze back to the man in question. Jake looked different. He was older now. Tired. Blue. Very fucking blue. His expression was aged, his hair in dreadlocks. You barely recognised him. 

Movement over his shoulder brought your gaze to yet another kid. Older than the others, he shared the same hard expression as his father, an arrow notched and reading in his bow. Clearly, there was no chance of escape. If Jake missed you by some miracle, that boy would finish the job for him. 

Jake hadn’t lowered his gun. He was still studying you, blatantly ignoring his kids as his narrowed eyes swept over the planes of your face. The weight of the stare was heavy as his frown deepened. 

Somehow, you managed to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, terrified but fucking estatic that he was alive. ”Long time no see, marine.”

No reaction. The gun didn’t lower. His expression didn’t change. Remaining cold and closed off. 

Your smile faltered as you realise he probably didn’t recognise you. You expected the gun to be shoved back against you, for a bullet to shoot through your body and for you to die again. 

Nothing happened. 

Then something seems to click. ”Impossible.” Is all Jake said, and he lowered his weapon. The kids collectively breathed out and moved out of his way. 

His brow was furrowed now as he dropped into a crouch. Jake loomed over you, his shadow blocking out the moon as his arm shot forward to grab at the front of your bullet proof vest to yank it down. You jerked, instinctively growling at him as his large hand grabbed your dog tag chain and pulled it out of hiding. The chain pulled taught as he dragged you in by the neck, in turn, Jake stooped lower, eyes squinting to read the printed metal in the pathetic light of the forest. 

He sucked in a breath. <”What kind of sick-”> He cut himself off with a swear, dropping the tag like it had burned him. His eyes shone with a dense swirl of emotion when he caught your gaze again, his voice punching out of him in a yell. ”You should be dead!”

Your expression furrowed. ”Sorry to disappoint?”

He cursed again. <”Kids, get to the ikran. Your mother should be waiting for you.”> None of them moved. Jake growled. <”Did you hear?”>

You could make a break for it right now. Roll onto your stomach and dart off into the forest whilst he was preoccupied. The boy with the bow had loosened his arrow when Jake had dropped the gun from your face. But there was no guarantee he wouldn’t put a bullet between your shoulders for your hard work. 

In another life, you had been friends; comrades. But now, he was a stranger. And you were decked out in enemy gear. 

The heat of the jungle was getting to you now. Causing sweat to bead on your brow and moisture to collect under the heavy, bullet proof vest clutching tight to every movement of your torso. The military grade trousers clung uncomfortably to your legs, your boots long gone but your feet weak and vulnerable against the rough terrain of the jungle floor. 

In contrast, Jake was in his element. Adorned in traditional Omaticayan attire and walking around barefoot without an issue. 

<i>Private!</i> Quaritch’s calm voice over the com sent chills down your spine, making you stiffen. <i>Private! Do you read me?</i>

You dared not respond. Jake was still studying you. Those unnatural glowing eyes pinning you in place.

<i>Y/n! Dude, you alive!</i> Lyle’s loud voice had you wincing. Jake’s head snapped down at the sound, ears fanning wide as Lyle kept trying to coax you into responding. Making your insides twist tighter and tighter. 

You’d been hoping for a clean break that would spare your conscience. They weren’t supposed to have noticed your absence yet. 

Fuck, Quaritch was gonna kill you for getting cornered by Jake. That is if Jake didn’t kill you first.

You were so caught up in your musing that you didn’t notice the man in question had moved, until a hand clamped hard around your queue, snapping your head back from the harsh yank. The sound you let out could never have been produced by a human. It echoed through the trees, making your ears flatten.

Jake paid you no mind as he harshly dragged you to your feet. 

”Jake!” Spider yelled at him, eyes hardened. 

The marine waved him off as you struggled to comply, your balance all thrown off and mud clinging to your ass and back. His movements were sharp, making you gasp. In one swift motion, he dug his finger under your earpiece and tossed it away into the undergrowth. 

”Jesus, you’ve gotten cranky in your old age.” You complained, struggling to relieve the pressure on your kuru.

Jake let out a surprised burst of air that could’ve been a laugh. ”Glad to see whatever they’ve done to you hasn’t dimmed your humour, Private.”

”Fuck off with that military shit.”

He kicked at your calf, tripping you into walking faster. Snapping your teeth at him, you followed the sound of the kids retreating into the undergrowth. Jake’s grip was painful on your kuru, but he was no longer using it to guide you along like a misbehaving horse, so you would take it.

”You started it.” He blurted in that typical knee jerk reaction of his. You huffed at the familiarity of it. ”Now start walking.”

”You’re not seriously considering taking me with you? Are you?” He didn’t respond and you let out a bark of laughter. ”You’re being an idiot.”

“I’m sparing your life.” Jake replied sharply. ”Usually, people are grateful.”

You saw the ikran first. They weren’t as big as you remembered, but still scared the shit out of you. 

<”Ma Jake, what are you doing? Kill-”> Neytiri hissed from beside her mount. The youngest girl cradled to her chest. The woman stepped away from her ikran’s side, bow slung over her shoulder and her expression thunderous.

Jake pulled you up short, startling a second shout of pain from you. ”Dude! Ease up. Come on!”

Neytiri suddenly appearing in front of you had you stiffening. Her gaze pierced through you, studying your face with a hunter’s precision. She recognised you much faster than her mate.

“Would you quit whining?”

”You’re being an asshole!” 

You could only watch dumbly as her eyes widened, mouth dropping open whilst her ears fanned wide as the membrane of a frilled lizard. The hand not cradling her daughter flew to her mouth as that expression morphed into one of fiery rage. 

”What did they /DO/ to you?” She shrieked, the sheer grief in her tone making you flinch. Her breath stuttered, glancing at Jake before finding your pained expression again. “Eywa took you home.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself of that fact. 

The kids shuffled on your peripheral. Unsettled by their mother’s blatant grief. Neytiri drew your attention back.

”How is it that you stand before me now?!”

Her cry echoes through the trees, bouncing back to your bent ears with the same gut wrenching emotion as they had had leaving her mouth. You stared blankly at your friend, feeling all sense of hope and joy at being found drain away.

She was looking at you like you were a ghost or some kind of illusion. Waiting for you to evaporate or cease to exist at any moment. 

Your presence had unknowingly opened an old, festering wound that had barely healed the first time.

This wasn’t the reunion you’d been expecting. This wasn’t the open arms and tears you’d been praying for whilst you planned your escape. This was everything you didn’t want. 

“I’m sorry..”

>_<

Jake’s grip was unforgiving as he hauled you off of his ikran at High Camp. Your arms strained against the vines they’d used to bind your wrists, fingers failing to keep you on your feet as he forcefully yanked you down off of his ikran and onto the uneven cliff edge. One hand still grasped your kuru, whilst the other bit imprints into your bicep. 

They’d stripped you of your gear before wrestling you onto a banshee.

Now, your weapons, bullet proof vest and any form of communication with the RDA lay soaked in rainwater somewhere in the forest. You didn’t mourn the loss of the devices, since the RDA could no longer track you without them. But you did miss the false protection of the knife and the warmth of the vest against the frigid mountain air.

Goosebumps erupted up your forearms as you were dragged further into the heart of the camp. Tents had been erected inside the cave system, made homely by the cooking fires within and the decorative rugs lining the cold, stone floors.

You glimpsed a compound on one of the rocky rises. The shining metal stood out like a sore thumb against the wooden structures of the tents and the warm glow of the fires.

Jake kept you walking, guiding you through the gathering throng of clan members. Some you recognised, many you didn’t. They all stared at you the same. With pinned back ears and judgemental eyes. 

It was a relief when you were shoved between the flaps of the largest tent so far. The atmosphere was tense inside, with a fire burning low in the centre and various belongings stacked up against the walls. Herbs dried where they hung from the ceiling, whilst a hammock hung suspended against the back wall where two figures crouched over a map.

Your heart leapt into your throat. The rest of the clan and Jake’s unforgiving grip on you fell away as your eyes widened. 

The years had been kind to Mo’at. She still wore her red beaded shawl, but had updated her headpiece and decorative necklaces, one of which appeared to have been made by a child. Her intelligent eyes snapped towards you in the small space, the weight of the years portrayed in the heavy crow’s feet and bags pulling at her cheeks. That expression did not change as she studied you. 

Tsu’tey shifted at her elbow, looking as handsome as he always had. White paint ran down the line of his nose, from forehead to chin, standing out brightly against the soft blue of his skin. He carried himself with an undeniable sense of authority, chin lifted as that razor sharp glare cut you down to your very core. He no longer wore the necklace that had matched the choker your human body wore, but the rest of him had not changed. He studied you wordlessly, his lips dragged down into a frown as if he’d already analysed all he needed to know. 

Your eyes caught on the bullet scars that adorned his left shoulder. They were old, faded with time but obvious. Your stomach tensed at the thought of what he had been through in your absence. 

Wordlessly, you watched as Spider - who had slipped in behind you - skirted the fire and walked straight for Tsu’tey. “Dad.” The boy breathed, barely loud enough for you to hear. The hunter immediately opened his arms for the boy to fall into, his tail swaying anxiously as he whispered inaudibly to the young boy. Spider finally lost the tension in his body, whilst your stomach clenched painfully. You hated to imagine what their closeness meant. 

Neytiri burst into the tent behind you, making your ears shoot up and your body jerk. She paid you no mind, kicking at the back of your knee to force you to kneel. You gasped as Jake’s grip left you and Neytiri took his place. Her nails digging crescent moons into your scalp as she grasped the back of your neck with unforgiving tightness.

<”Daughter, what brings you here with such rage in your eye?”> Mo’at asked carefully. Her familiar voice sounded so calm, so familiar. You squeezed your eyes shut at the sudden weight behind them. 

<”The Sky People have found a new low.”> Neytiri declared loudly to the silent tent. Mo’at hummed. 

Somewhere behind the canvas of the tent wall, you heard small feet shift. Glancing to the side, you saw a tiny eye peering up at you from the gap between the material and the floor. Those unnaturally large eyes bore into your soul, making your tail thrash with nerves.

Neytiri’s fingers turned into claws in your hair, snapping your attention back to the situation at hand as she grasped a fistful of hair and yanked. <”They have begun to resurrect the dead.”> Your head snapped up from the motion, causing your neck to crack and warm pain to deep down your spine. Your mouth opened wide with an involuntary, pained gasp.

Mo’at didn’t move. 

Tsu’tey was scowling hard at her side, Spider wincing in sympathy at your treatment. Two sides of one coin. An odd pairing in appearance, but even in the short time you’d seen them together, you knew there was a bond there. Probably years old.  

With the crack in her daughter’s voice, Mo’at rose from her seat. On silent footsteps, she rounded the fire. ”What are you called?” 

You could tell that who you were still hadn’t clicked into place for Tsu’tey from the way that his ears flickered in uncertainty. Still looking confused, he composed himself, sitting back on his hunches to look at Neytiri. <”What is the meaning of this? Why have you brought this puppet to High Camp.”>

<”It protected the children.”> Neytiri returned easily. Making it sound like you were a pissed off thanator that had by some miracle, spared her offspring. <”It recognised us.”>

”Neytiri-”

<”You do NOT speak here.”>

Your name sat frozen on your tongue. The reactions of your previous two friends made you not want to reveal yourself. Neytiri shook you painfully by the kuru, letting out a warning hiss.

You spoke your name, eternally grateful that Mo’at’s towering form blocked Tsu’tey from view. 

More humming from Mo’at as she reached for the tiny blade concealed within the sheath of her head dress. You eyed her wearily, held still by Neytiri’s hand in your hair as she pricked your shoulder. She pulled the bloodied blade back, tasting the drop of blood. 

Her ears pricked at the taste, staring at you with a newfound revelation. ”It is you.” She confirmed, and something seemed to unwind in both Jake and Neytiri. ”But altered. You are not as the Great Mother intended.”

She motioned to her daughter, expression pinched. Neytiri tried to protest, but at her mother’s stern glare, her hands retreated from you. Your posture immediately slumped, relieved tingles echoing across your scalp and down your back.

”Explain.” Mo’at boomed, commanding your attention once more.

That finally got a reaction from the hunter still crouching over the map. 

”The Sky People grew this body as they grew the avatars.” She nodded along to the simple explanation, sharing glances with Tsu’tey over her shoulder. You swallowed. ”They uploaded my memories into it. This body is me.”

Jake sidestepped, putting himself back into your line of sight. ”So you aren’t linked up?” There was something unreadable in his eyes. You almost mistook it for hope.

You shook your head. That body was long gone. ”This is my body now.”

Spider had sat down on the mat beside him by now, and shifted uncertainly as the man wordlessly rose from his couch with the authority of a king rising from his throne. Mo’at stepped aside as he took slow, menacing steps towards you. Swallowing hard, you dared to meet his burning gaze highlighted by the soft white paint. The vibrant grief and rage swirling within those gorgeous depths was startling to behold.  

His hand went to the knife at his waist, wrestling it free with the practised song of the blade against its bone sheath. Your fight or flight threatened to kick in as you recognised the same hunter’s stalk he had performed the morning Neytiri and Jake had officially mated. 

<”Olo’eyktan?”> Mo’at asked, eying him wearily. 

He ignored her, storming past her fast enough to have her braids dancing. That gaze was narrowed; honed in on prey. 

His arm drew back. 

Your eyes widened. 

With a yell, he took a swift swipe at your head which you barely managed to dive out of the way of.

<”DAD NO!”> Spider yelled from across the tent. He was on his feet in minutes, scrambling forward, only for Mo’at to hold him back with her arm.

Neytiri tutted at the poorly aimed blow, her tail thrashing on your peripheral as you cowered in the dirt, your arms still bound and braced against stone. Vulnerable skin tore on uneven rock as you scrambled away, kicking yourself for turning your back, but knowing distance was more important.

At least Jake seemed to have your back.

<”Tsu’tey, what are you doing?”> The marine asked, immediately jumping in to stop him from striking again as you scrambled to get your feet under you. With your hands bound, it was a struggle. Your tail thrashed, attempting to aid your balance as you scrambled away.

Tsu’tey was like a man possessed, shoving Jake off balance and making another stab at you. His ears were flat on either side of his head, eyes wild and manic. You’d never seen him so pissed. And certainly not so quiet whilst being so angry. It was somehow more terrifying than if he were screaming at you. 

Jake scrambled to stay on his feet, his arms wrapping around Tsu’tey’s waist and yanking him back. Causing the knife to fall short of slicing through your side. The Olo’eyktan shrieked, a noise you had never heard a na’vi make before as his nails clawed at the man’s arms, failing to tear him off. Your ears flattened at the heart wrenching sound. Eyes not quite leaving the knife still in the Olo’eyktan’s grasp. A knife which he was quick to recall and hurl at your head. 

“Jesus FUCKING christ!” You swore, ducking again. “Calm down!”

He hissed in retaliation, ears pinned back from the ferocity of the sound. You stilled at the glint of water staining his cheeks, the redness of his eyes. ”I mourned you!” He cursed. Still struggling. Still trying to close the distance and kill you. 

Scratch that last part. Seeing him cry and begin to break down was far worse than anger.

”I buried you.” He screamed, the shout echoing around the tent and no doubt chasing itself out into the main cavern. ”I visited you in Eywa!”

Numbly, you took a step back. Towards the tent flaps. 

This had been a mistake. Coming here was a mistake.

”I have made my peace with your passing! What purpose do you serve? Why have you returned to haunt me?” There was so much anguish in his tone, you would’ve preferred a punch to the jaw. ”WHY!?”

”I couldn’t stay there.” You breathed, straightening your shoulders when you realised you’d curled in on yourself under that venomous glare. ”I couldn’t stay there!” You repeated, louder this time. Needing to be heard. Understood. ”With them.” Your throat was uncomfortably tight. ”I wanted to come home.”

”THIS IS NOT YOUR HOME, DEMON!” Tsu’tey was quick to snap back. His expression shattered, the rage giving way to a tsunami of grief so strong it made you sick. ”LEAVE!”

But you were frozen in place.

Tsu’tey took it as a challenge. With strength that made your eyes bug out, he stomped on Jake’s foot, shot his arms back, grabbed the marine by the weapons belt and yanked him up and over his shoulder. Jake hit the stone floor hard. With a wheeze, he collapsed in a heap, momentarily stunned. 

You gawked. 

Spider seemed to come back to himself. In your peripheral, you watched the kid expertly duck under Mo’at’s arm and dart around the fire, with the ease of someone who’d been doing it his entire life.

Tsu’tey’s form blocked him from view. His muscles were bunched like a thanator preparing to pounce. 

”GET. OUT!” Tsu’tey screamed again. He made to step over Jake, only for the man to grab his ankle and yank, causing the hunter to crash at your feet. You leapt back as his hands shot for your ankles. 

Spider was at your side in moments. ”This way!” He yelled, grabbing at your bound wrists and dragging you towards the tent flaps. You obeyed, but your eyes remained glued to Tsu’tey. To the hands that would drag you down and gladly wring your neck. To the twisted expression on his face, so alien to you and causing the white paint to bunch and flake. 

Mo’at tutted at his back. <”You do not think clearly.”> She narrated, stalking around the fist fight now commencing on her tent floor. 

”Come on!” Spider urged, tugging sharply on your wrists and tearing your attention from Tsu’tey and the rest of them. ”We have to get you out of here.”

<”Give me a head start?”> Spider joked with a hoarse laugh, the furious screams of Tsu’tey biting at your ankles. 

Neytiri appeared at your side, yanking aside the tent flap and helping Spider shove you outside. <”Take the ikran.”> She urged the boy, her expression icy. <”They cannot remain here.”>

You had FUCKING GATHERED THAT MUCH!

Neytiri nodded sharply before barking out loudly, <”Neteyam!”> 

A flurry of movement by the side of the tent revealed the older son from before. His expression was painfully neutral as his gaze slid from his mother to the teenager holding you hostage by your bound wrists. 

<”Take the demon to the forest.”> Neytiri stated. She didn’t wait to see if he acknowledged her command before promptly ducking back into the tent. The flicker of a memory tickled the back of your mind at her sharp cursing as the ruckus within the tent continued.

The boy, Neteyam, barely spared you a glance before heading back the way you’d been dragged into the camp. Despite being dragged all the way here for the Olo’eyktan to pass his judgement, the Sully family were doing a spontaneous job of doing the opposite of his will. You had no doubt that Tsu’tey would have gutted you regardless of his knee-jerk reaction. 

You were lost in your musings as Neteyam hollered for his ikran, three bursts of sound that had the magnificent beast dropping from a higher level of the cave system to stand before its rider. The boy was quick to form Tsaheylu, before fluidly mounting up.

<”Where are we headed?”>

<”The old village.”> Spider replied simply, guiding you towards the back of the mount with firm pushes. 

Part 1 -> Next Chapter