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violetflowerswrites · 2 months

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Sweet Relief

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: servant/master, possession, religious-ish themes, dom/sub, sex pollen, cockwarming, oral (female receiving), pain/discipline, fingering, p in v sex, language, 18+

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: I’m rewatching the Marvel movies in order and my god. I forgot how absolutely diabolical and adorable young Loki is! I was inspired to make this VERY smutty, all-porn-no-plot fic. Takes place before the events of Thor 1. Hope you enjoy my first Loki fic!

Tags: @foxherder @lovingchoices14

The long linen fabric of your healer’s tunic brushed against the cold marble floor as you rushed past. Your steps were gentle and quick, trying to make next to no sound as you swept past the tall columns, and arched ceilings of the royal halls. Finally outside the gilded wood of the giant doors to his bed chambers, your breath seemed to stall in your lungs.

This simply was not done. You were approached, never doing the approaching yourself. Improper didn’t even begin to describe what you were doing.

Your gentle knock was virtually silent the first time, so you steeled yourself and tried again.

“Identify yourself.”

A lazy voice called from within, but his tone was laced with an undeniable authority.

You spoke your name, placed your title in front of it.

Healer.

You weren’t a lady, a warrior—hell, you weren’t even nobility.

You belonged to a class of healers in Asgardian society. Seen as a type of servant, but respected nonetheless. To serve in the court meant you had a sizable talent for basic magic, and for spiritual healing.

But, if you were a woman in this position, it also meant you were a glorified prostitute.

You and your healer sisters before you have served in the healing room for centuries, servicing warriors, tending to their injuries after battle. But Asgard has long been in a season of peace, so the healers needed to fill another role.

Asgard was now a land of paradise, a land of plenty. That is, plenty of food, drink, beauty, wealth, and of course, plenty of sex. The nobility needed a way to make this discreet. After all, the royal court could hardly be seen having frivolous dalliances with just anyone. They needed to marry for alliance, for power, and for proper bloodlines, of course.

That’s where the healers came in. Come to the healing room for a sleeping draught, or an ointment for a sore shoulder, and get a service on top of it. You and your sisters were carefully trained in the ways of pleasure, and secrecy.

But, here you were, in front of your Lord’s chambers, breaking every rule and propriety ingrained in you since you first worked in the court as a young girl.

“Enter.” He commanded.

With shaky hands, you pushed the heavy bedroom doors open with your slender muscles.

The sight was grand, and a bit unexpected. Thick, dark green drapes covered the walls from ceiling to floor, and deep cherry wood bookshelves lined an entire side of the bedroom. A fireplace and candles were lit, making the chambers seem warm, yet a tinge ominous. A sharp contrast to the golden pearly halls of the rest of Asgard’s royal chambers.

Loki sat at a massive wooden desk, cleaved from the center of an oak tree, and absolutely littered with a number of bottles and vials, books and scrolls. A lone curtain was left half open, letting in what little light was left of the setting summer sun.

He addressed you disinterestedly, not even bothering to lift his head up from his book.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Healer?” Loki called out quietly across the vast room.

Your back was pressed up against the door, unable to get your feet to move. Your body disobeyed what your mind wanted, forgetting to curtsey or even duck your head. Instead, your mouth opened, but no words came out.

Loki took a beat in your silence and chuckled lowly to himself.

“I must say, this is quite unexpected, and against the rules I might add.”

Amusement glittered in his eyes at the mention of breaking the rules.

After all, he was the God of Mischief. Breaking the rules was his bread and butter.

Loki finally gazed up and took you in more carefully, wondering why a healer such as yourself would dare incur the wrath of your order by entering a nobleman’s chambers without permission, let alone the prince of Asgard.

Second prince of Asgard, but a prince nonetheless.

Then he noticed you, really noticed you.

He took in your flushed face, the way you absentmindedly kept rubbing your hands up and down your arms as you hugged yourself, and your thighs pressing your legs together to seek any sort of relief you could.

Even from across the room, Loki’s god-eyes could see the steady thrumming of the vein on your neck, moving rapidly with your heartbeat. He wanted to taste your skin and feel your pulse under his hot tongue.

Loki was a keen observer. Knowing how to read body language, facial expressions, and tone of voice was more important than any magical mischief he could get up to. Reading people was enough to get him most things that he wanted in life.

And right now, he decided he wanted you.

“You may approach, Healer.”

As if the spell had been broken, you swallowed to wet your dry throat and stepped towards the prince.

“How did you get past the guards?” Loki questioned.

“I said you needed a sleeping draught. You’ve been having trouble falling asleep for the past few days.” Your voice came out squeaky and feeble, a far cry from your usual tone.

Loki pursed his lips. This was not untrue.

“Leave it here.” He gestured casually to the desk and went back to his reading, while keeping half an eye on you.

Your trembling hands set down the small bottle of liquid with a bit of a clatter, and you quickly stepped back, just a few feet from where Loki sat.

“There’s something else.” Loki murmured lowly, eyes still flicking over the pages.

“Yes.” You breathed out.

Before you could begin to state your wild request, Loki said something else that you didn’t expect.

“I know you.”

You flitted your eyes up at his handsome face, and was startled by his piercing blue gaze. Quickly, you looked down at your feet.

The younger prince of Asgard had long since caught your eye. Every time he returned from battle you snatched the opportunity to treat him.

Rumor had it that he rarely asked for a healer's services, even when he was at the peak of adolescence. Some said he had a taste for the other sex. Others said he found his pleasure off-planet.

Whereas Thor openly indulged in excess, including women, drink, and violence, Loki was careful, calculated, and purposeful in all his actions. His mysterious, unreadable nature only served to make him more attractive to you.

“Yes, m’Lord. I have treated your injuries before, alongside other sisters.”

“You sang to me.”

You gasped, shocked that he remembered. It was a particularly gruesome battle and Loki was crushed badly in the side. You and your sisters forced him into a spell-induced sleep so that you could bind his broken bones. The Queen was distraught and ordered a round-the-clock watch to ensure he was healing well. You ended up on night watch, singing lullabies when he fought demons in his sleep.

“I did not know you heard me, m’ Lord.” You whispered, the heat inside of you coming out in waves off your hot skin.

“Speak freely. What is it that you request of me?” Loki schooled his tone to sound detached, but you could hear the curiosity in his words.

Sucking in a breath, you relayed a stuttered story of how a nobleman asked the healers to create a love potion that would increase ones libido, but it would only work against someone they were attracted to. Eventually, they would be like a dog in heat, and could only be relieved by intense pleasuring from a potential lover.

And you were the unlucky soul who got “volunteered” to take the experimental potion on a test run.

Although they tried their utmost, your sisters were unable to bring you relief and now, a few hours later, you sought after your long-time crush, Loki.

Hoping he’d do something to help relieve you of your suffering.

Although what, you didn’t dare dream of.

Ashamed, you bowed your head, looking at the marble floor and wishing a hole would open up and sink you into the dark waters below your realm.

At best, he’d let you go back to the healing room and never speak of this again. At worst, he’d have you arrested and banished for attempting such a lecherous act against a prince of Asgard.

“Sit.”

Your head jerked up, and you stared. Loki wasn’t looking at you though, he was back to his book, but his palm patted his muscular thigh.

Gods, was he asking you to sit in his lap?

You slowly brought a leg over his until your core straddled his hips. His cool body temperature immediately soothed your hot one, and you carefully brought your arms to clasp behind his neck.

Moving quickly before he changed his mind, you immediately put your training to use.

“Would my Lord like a massage?” You offered quietly.

“Yes, darling, that would be lovely.” Loki agreed nonchalantly, again, eyes still glued to his book.

Your strong fingers squeezed the tight knots on Loki’s shoulders, feeling the firm, yet lean muscles there. You pulled up his flesh, pressing deeply until the tension melted away in your hands.

Moving upwards, you combed your fingers through his jet-black hair, massaging his scalp, and temples.

The man gave no signs at all that he was affected by your touch, or by having an attractive young woman in his lap.

But then, he turned, exposing a pale neck underneath the raised leather collar of his garments. You took that as an invitation to press your lips to his smooth skin. Loki could feel your warm breath exhale in a contented sigh as your thumbs continued to knead circles, followed by soft kisses all over his neck, up his jaw, behind his ear.

Even with your face pressed to his, you almost missed what he whispered next.

“Warm my cock for me, dearest.”

An uncontrollable whimper escaped from your lips at his dirty words.

To be fully honest, you didn’t know how far Loki was going to let you take this. And the answer seemed to be…

All the way.

You pulled off your undergarments and undid the buttons of his leather trousers. His member was already half-erect, but it came to life fully as you gently rubbed him in both of your warm hands.

Your head fell onto his shoulder, and you could feel the breath catch in his chest as his cock breached your tight entrance.

Your eyes squeezed shut immediately at the contact, having not loosened your sensitive core beforehand, and Loki was large. His member wasn’t the thickest you’ve ever had, but it was slender, and long.

Slowly, carefully, you sank down, half-way at first, taking a pause to adjust, then further in until your ass rested on his lap once again.

The tip of his cock pushed up against your cervix, and you’ve never felt more full in your life.

Relaxing, you pressed your chest to his, leaning in as your core wrapped its hot, moist flesh around him. Loki for his part, was completely silent, reaching his arms behind your back to continue flipping through his book.

“What are you reading?” You murmur, content to just be filled for the time being. The initial stage of insatiable desire had been temporarily slaked by simply having his length inside of you.

“A spell-book on illusion magic. Could be useful for battle, or tricking my brother.” A soft chuckle rumbled through his body, the vibrations stimulating your center immediately.

You moaned, losing yourself in pleasure, but Loki shushed you gently.

“Be a good girl and sit quietly. I want to finish this section.”

So you did. After having spent the past few hours in heat, having any kind of relief now was enough to lull you into a daze. The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire, the crinkle of pages of Loki’s book, and your quiet breath.

Every so often, he would shift his weight and it would push his cock in a different part of your core. You bit your lip each time to keep from making any noise, but the wetness that leaked from your pussy betrayed your arousal. You were sure that Loki’s thighs would be soaked by the time he finished reading.

Abruptly, Loki snapped his book shut with a bang. You flinched automatically at the loud sound.

“That’s enough, my dear.” He stated with finality.

You gingerly pulled yourself off, his still-hard member slipping out of your core, leaving you feeling empty and wanting. Legs wobbly from sitting straddled wide for so long, you tried your best to look put together, smoothing down your tunic, and taking a tentative step back.

“My Lord, thank you for—“ you attempted a statement of propriety, assuming that you were being dismissed.

Wordlessly, Loki grabbed you roughly by the neck and hauled you forward, an arm pulling your hips against his as he crushed you with a kiss.

Your body melted into his immediately, overwhelmed by the pressure of his lips against yours, his tongue forcing his way into your mouth, and —gods was that teeth?—nipping at your lower lip. You had no idea that a kiss could be so utterly demanding and violent.

Loki wasn’t just kissing you.

He was devouring you.

“It’s time for some discipline, healer. Do you know what a bad girl you’ve been tonight?” Loki growled against your neck, biting you not quite so gently there.

“No, tell me m’ Lord.” The response breathed out through bruised lips. Your pupils were blown out with lust and so were his.

“No? Then, I’ll help you count each disobedience.”

With that, Loki pulled your tunic and shift off, leaving you completely exposed before him.

“Exquisite,” he murmured, while licking his lips.

Roughly, he wrenched your arm and pulled you towards his generous bed, throwing you down the middle of the lush mattress.

Before you had a chance to sit up, he flipped you onto your stomach and smacked a hard slap to your ass.

“Fuck!” The expletive exploded out of you at the sharp sting.

“Number one: deceiving the guards.”

Another slap hit your other ass cheek.

“Number two: sneaking into the royal chambers.”

His hand met your bottom again.

“Number three: sneaking into my bedroom, a prince of Asgard no less.”

Another hit. The skin of your ass was already inflamed pink with the first few smacks.

Loki watched the color bloom before slowly raking his icy-blue eyes across your body. A sheen of sweat had broken out along your back and your face was buried in the sheets.

Loki’s never hurt a girl in the bedroom before, but seeing the redness of your ass, and feeling the tingling remnants of each slap on his own hand. Well, that awoke something sinister in his heart, and his loins.

“Number four: you were a fool to take the love potion. You are supposed to be a healer, not a witch.”

This next blow from Loki was even stronger than the last. The contact with your tender skin echoed off the high ceiling of his bedroom.

“Hells—Loki you are going to leave a mark!” The pain had you gritting your teeth, and temporarily forgetting your manners.

Hearing his name roll off your tongue made him laugh with delight. Who knew he would have so much fun punishing a troublesome little girl like you?

He leaned forward, pressing his erection into the swell of your ass, and spoke lowly into your ear.

“My darling, when I’m done with you, your body will be marked permanently.”

The threat made you shut your mouth and turn your burning face away from his, speechless.

“Number five: you were a fool to seek out me for relief.”

The final hit was the most painful. Loki lifted both of his hands and brought them down with so much force that you let out a scream of shock, pain, and pleasure all at once.

He immediately squeezed your pliant flesh in his palms, massaging the slap-warmed skin there.

After a moment of silence, he released his touch altogether and sat back on the bed, watching you.

Cautiously, you crawled up on your hands and knees and sat up, using your arms to hold up your weight rather than sitting on your tender bottom.

He studied your face in quiet contemplation as he watched a mixture of emotions course through you.

Pain, of course.

A bit of fear.

Apprehension, understandably.

But as you drew in shaky breaths, staring back at him, he saw what he was hoping for.

Attraction. Lust. Arousal. Greed.

Even after all of that, you still wanted him. Hells, even without the potion coursing through your veins you would have still wanted to fuck him.

The dominant, torturous streak was a surprise, but you never knew what Loki was capable of, to begin with.

Everything was a surprise with him.

And yet, you craved so much more.

Suddenly gentle, Loki guided you backwards until your head hit his soft pillows.

He settled in between your legs, prying them apart until his face was inches away from your puffy inner lips.

“How did that feel, my dear?” He pressed kisses against your inner thighs, loving how smooth and soft your skin was.

“It hurt.” You ground out, indignance lacing your tone, trying not to show how anything Loki did to you felt good.

Better than good. He was better than any nobleman you’ve ever had to service before. Sex with them was vanilla, predictable. Loki was anything but.

“Ah, but you liked it. Didn’t you, sweet girl?” He paused and looked up at you with those baby blues.

Underneath his steady gaze, you knew there was no point in lying. Loki could see through you in a heartbeat.

“Yes. It felt good.” You confessed.

Tutting with that silver tongue of his, endearments and praise continued to pour out of that sly mouth.

And kisses. Hot, wet, soft kisses to every part of your inner thighs, your mound, your puffy pussy lips.

“You naughty girl. Entering my chambers, asking me to give you relief.”

He pressed his lips to you.

“Sitting on my cock, letting me fill up that tight cunt of yours.”

A regal nose brushed against your slit, dragging wetness up your core.

“Enjoying pain with your pleasure. Letting me ravage your body. You’re a temptress, my sweet.”

A deep inhale. Gods, Loki was breathing in your sex right in front of you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, your nails digging into your palms.

“Did you know, darling, that I could smell you the second you entered my chambers?” He exhaled, warm air tickling the moisture leaking out of you.

You didn’t dare reply, knowing that all that could come out of you now would be whines of lust.

“You, my dear, are ripe.”

With that, Loki dove head first into your cunt, licking and sucking like you were his favorite dessert.

The potion made your pussy swollen and sensitive, so everything he did felt ten times more pleasurable than anything your sisters tried.

Your hands gripped his wide shoulders and your knees fell apart as he ate you out.

“Loki—my Lord, I, I can’t!” You stammered out, head falling back as you enjoyed his worship of your pussy.

“Cat got your tongue, dear?” Loki joked, before taking your clit in between his perfect teeth.

“Fuck!” You positively screamed, which only made Loki double down.

Finally, he let go and you slowly loosened your grip, not realizing that you had been knuckle deep in his beautiful hair, tugging it, tangling it in your fingers. You saw pink half moons littered on the pale skin of his neck and face, evidence of your nails digging into his flesh.

Taking a beat to breathe, you smoothed his locks down on his head.

“Did I hurt you?” You inquired, feeling ashamed that you had lost yourself so completely in your lust.

“Yes. But I liked it, dearest. You can hurt me as much as you want to. Just as long as I can do the same.”

The dirty confession made your heart stutter in your chest, eyes wide. Seeing your expression, Loki laughed aloud, the sound blessing your ears.

He crawled up your body now, straightening your legs.

“Let’s see how ready you are for me, hmm?” Loki inserted one finger, then another into your pussy.

“Gods! That feels—!” You whined.

“Good, isn't it?” Loki finished for you. “Now, what about…here?”

He curled his digits upwards and put delicious pressure onto your spongy inner center.

Waves of stimulation shot through your limbs as your voice cried out in broken moans.

“Your knees are trembling, sweet girl.” Loki observed with amusement.

Indeed they were, and they continued to shake uncontrollably as Loki clamped down even harder, his fingers thrusting now.

“I-I can’t help it!” You cried out again, as Loki kissed your breasts, his hot mouth finding purchase on an erect nipple.

Your hands gripped his wrist and he couldn’t tell if you were trying to pull his hand out, or push it in deeper.

Regardless, he ground his palm against your clit, scissoring his digits inside of you, stretching you.

Preparing you.

“Oh my—I’m gonna cum!” You screamed out. Loki had already made you cum a few times. First, when his cock filled you up as you were sitting on his lap. Second, when he bit down on your clit.

And now, with his skilled fingers, he was making your pussy spasm and weep under his touch.

The orgasm was powerful, your whole body jerking up against his. With his free hand, Loki held you down, enjoying the wild ride.

Finally, as you relaxed, Loki released you and sat back. His forehead dappled with sweat, and his own breath coming in hard.

You couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Loki, your prince, was pleasuring, no—worshiping your body like it was his personal gift from Valhalla. He made you feel pleasure at heights you didn’t know existed. Somehow, he simply knew your body even though this was the first time he had ever touched you.

Lost in post-orgasm bliss, your eyes lazily traveled down to his still clothed erection, fighting to get out of his trousers. A thought crossed your mind.

“My Lord, can I undress you?” You murmured, locking eyes with him.

Loki didn’t reply, instead, he simply watched your naked body approach his clothed one as you slowly snaked your hands up his torso. You found each flap, each button, and slowly undid it all as his garments fell down in pieces on the bed.

You pulled his pants off his long legs, and his cock bounced up to greet you. With a gasp of joy, you pressed a soft kiss to his member and continued your kisses up the toned flesh of his chest until you got to his lips.

The action was intimate, like what lovers would do. And Loki let you touch him, admire him, without a word.

In the last bit of light of sunset, Loki’s skin glowed golden orange. He shone like the god he is.

“Beautiful.” You whispered in awe.

An arrogant smile curved along his face and he cradled a hand along the back of your head. He pressed a long, sensual kiss to your warm mouth.

“I’m going to fuck you now.” He murmured the dirty words against your smiling lips.

Stalking over you like a predator hunts its prey, Loki climbed over your prone body, lining up his engorged cock with your weeping slit.

He watched you watch him as he slid in, inch by inch, your eyes watering as he forced his way into your cunt.

A self-satisfied smirk emerged on his face, knowing just how full he could make you feel.

Gently, he lowered his weight on top of you, pressing down so that his toned flesh covered your supple breasts and soft curves.

As he started to slowly thrust in and out of your tight core, Loki found both of your hands and brought them next to your head, interlacing his fingers with yours. Your palms were hot and sweaty, overwhelmed with the intimacy of his actions.

Summoning all the boldness you had inside of you, you dared your gaze to meet his and he was staring back at you with a mixture of lust and affection.

And also, possession.

Fuck.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Without warning, he pushed faster, his hips smacking into yours with a vengeance. You instinctively brought your knees up to allow him deeper access. The wet slap of his cock into your pussy was sinfully loud in the cavernous bedroom.

All manner of helpless yelps and whines came out of your throat, your hands squeezed his as he fucked you raw.

“You need to be fucked, hard and often, healer.” The way he said your title could have been synonymous with whore.

The intensity of his look was almost too much, daring you to look away, but you found that you couldn’t. You were entirely addicted to this man, stronger than any drug you could have created in the healing room.

By Odin, he was the only one for you.

You pressed your forehead to his as he continued to slam his cock deep inside of your womb.

“I’m yours, my Lord.” The words tumbled out of you before you could stop them.

“Loki.” An unreadable expression crossed his face as Loki pushed himself up. He pulled your legs to wrap around his hips as he knelt on the bed. Your pussy was still clenched around his cock and you took the opportunity to suck in a few deep breaths.

“Wha-what?” You panted, confusion furrowing your brow.

“Say my name. Say that you belong to me.” Loki commanded. He rose up, pulling his shoulders back, looking every bit like the prince, the god that he is. His dark hair was pushed back on his forehead, sleek with sweat, framing his sharp features like a crown.

Automatically obedient, the declaration left your lips with sincerity and conviction.

“I belong to you, Loki.”

With a laugh of triumph, Loki grabbed the pliant flesh of your hips and slammed your body against his own. He railed your core with his cock, hitting deeper than you ever thought possible. Your ass slid along his strong thighs, the friction smarting your skin that was still tender from his earlier disciplining.

“Loki—it’s too much!” You cried out, losing yourself in pleasure.

“Cum for me, my sweet girl. Worship me with your cunt!” Loki growled out, thrusting impossibly harder, impossibly faster.

The sensation built and built, his name spilled out of your mouth in an endless stream of moans, until suddenly the pleasure peaked.

In that instance, time stopped. Your lips parted in a silent scream, and you saw him.

Veins bulged in his forearm as he pulled you flush against his hips. Nose scrunched up in effort as he fucked you deeply. His eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, wild in the throes of ecstasy.

Loki was your god.

And he was glorious.

Finally the air in your lungs released in a long-awaited scream and the orgasm crashed down. Nerve endings lit on fire, and your muscles jerked and spasmed underneath his strong grip. In the midst of your pleasure, you heard a faraway groan from your prince, and you could feel jets of hot cum coat the inside of your womb. He was marking you, claiming you as his.

You knew you would be his forever.

A few seconds later, Loki unceremoniously pulled out of your well-used pussy, and collapsed beside you, chest heaving with exertion.

Lying with one arm underneath his head, he lazily stroked your back as you curled up on his naked chest. Finally, the effect from the love potion had dissipated, leaving you with sweet relief.

Minutes passed in comfortable silence, but your mind started to swirl with insecure thoughts. You steeled your nerves to ask a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind.

“Why did you never use me?”

“What do you mean, my dear?”

“Why did you never take a lover? Or ask for a healer’s services? I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, that you’re—“ Your mouth shut with an audible clack of your teeth.

Your clumsy tongue always got ahead of yourself. Worried you may have crossed a line, your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

But Loki answered honestly.

“You’re not my first. But I have long since known that I can’t fuck and forget like my ape of a brother.” He grimaces, and breathes in deeply before saying more.

“When I have sex, I need to own them. Possess them. I'm sure you noticed my dominant streak, my darling.”

“Then why’d you let me come in tonight? Why take the risk?” You wondered aloud.

“I’ve been watching you, my sweet little healer.”

You tensed automatically in surprise. Since when? What did he see? Why did he notice you?

Loki’s gentle voice brought you out of your thoughts as he confessed more.

“If you hadn’t approached me tonight, I would have snatched you from the healing room and made you mine before long.” He chuckled, the sound vibrating deep within his chest as you lay on his skin.

The revelation sank in slowly until finally, Loki pulled you up until your face was level with his.

“You just beat me to it, you naughty girl.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, and your furrowed brow automatically relaxed.

“Tell me again. Will you belong to me, and only me?” He searched your eyes for any hint of deception, any trace of a lie.

You were certain that he would find none.

“Yes, Loki. I belong to you.”

…

#marvel #loki #loki laufeyson #Loki x reader #Loki laufeyson x reader #Thor #Thor 1 #Loki fic #Loki smut #Loki fanfic #marvel fic #marvel smut

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astrologerjagan · 2 years

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totesnothere04 · 1 year

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From Heartbreak to Harmony

Neytiri x F!Omatikaya!Reader x Jake

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the fanart, screenshots, or gifs used with my stories.

Warnings: Hurt to comfort, tsaheylu, major character death, yall... (Y/n) gots alot of friggin kids. Also 4 releases in one weekend?? Holy crap.

"Okay let's go through them again." Grace said as she started showing Jake pictures of important members of the clan.

"Mo'at the dragon lady." Jake says and Grace changes the image. "Eytucan." Jake says and Grace rolls her eyes.

"Eytukan. He's the clan leader, and she's the spiritual leader. Like a shaman." Grace tells him and shows him the next.

"Su'tey." Jake says.

"Tsu'tey." Grace corrects him.

"Tsu'tey." Jake corrects himself.

"He's the high warrior." Grace tells him and shows the next picture.

"Neytiri and (Y/n)." Jake says as he takes the tablet and looks at the picture closer.

"Of course those are the two you get right." Norm says exasperated.

"Hey focus." Grace warns Jake when she sees he's about to argue with Norm. "Neytiri is the next clan leader and (Y/n) is the next Tsahík. They become a mated pair." Grace says and Jake seems confused.

"But how will they produce the next of their line?" Jake asks and Norm decides to flaunt his knowledge.

"It's not unheard of for the leaders of the clan to have a third mate." Norm tells Jake and leans against the hand rails. "Which you would know if you had any knowledge of their customs."

"Well who has a date with both of the future clan leaders?" Jake says cheekily and Norm throws his hands up.

"C'mon man that doesn't count-" Norm says and Grace shushes them both.

"Link now. Village life starts early." She says and leans over Jake after he lays down. "Don't do anything overly stupid." Jake doesn't respond as he shuts the lid over himself. When he opens his eyes he finds a pair of eyes staring back at him.

"Come JakeSulì. I will redress your wound." You tell him and he's quick to get out of his hammock. He follows behind you getting a better look at his surroundings now that it's daytime. When you get to the healer's area you gesture for him to sit and he does as asked. You sit across from him and take his old dressings off. He watches you as you apply a salve to his wound and can't help but admire your features. Your bioluminescent freckles aren't visible in the daylight but their pattern is still captivating.

"So, you're promised to Neytiri huh?" Jake asks trying to make conversation. You look up at him and nod.

"We have been courting since we were 14 cycles. I was chosen as tsakarem at 16 cycles, and she was chosen to be the next Olo'eyktan." You tell him and he nods. You back away from him after you're finished and wash your hands off in a bowl of water and dry them off. "Come. We will eat first meal and Neytiri will take you to start your training." He gets up and follows behind you again. You squat down and so does Jake, then not long after Neytiri joins the two of you. It's quiet as the three of you eat.

After you were all finished eating Neytiri planted a kiss on the top of your head and dragged Jake behind her. You smiled softly as you watched her drag the odd uniltìranyu with her.

Later in the day Neytiri and Jake showed up and Mo'at excused you. You followed Neytiri as she led the small group into the forest. When you walked into the treeline you took a deep breath and ran your hands over a few tree trunks. Eywa's voice danced around you and your companions as she led the three of you on an unknown path. Neytiri finally stopped and sat down on a thick tree branch and you sat down next to her. You allowed your fingers to glide over the moss covering the tree bark and you smiled.

"I had (Y/n) join us to help with teaching you our language and to teach you about Eywa." Neytiri tells Jake who nods.

It had been a few months since Jake had started his training and you started to contemplate something. You were going to propose the idea of Jake being your and Neytiri's third mate. He is strong and once he started learning you found him intelligent and a quick learner. Though his reluctance to believe in the Great Mother was a questionable quality to you. Neytiri believed him ready to tame an ikran, but you voiced that you didn't think that to her. Your concern is he didn't want to learn about Eywa. She told Tsu'tey he was ready anyways and had him take him along with the other ready warriors and hunters.

When they returned and Jake had tamed an ikran you started to get an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Something was about to happen but you had no idea what it could possibly be. There were so many things going on in your world right now that it could be anything from an attack by the sky demons, to someone close to you dying again. Mo'at spent the better part of the evening helping to ease your growing concern. But the Great Mother had never lied to you before, so you would not start questioning her now. That night you prepared yourself spiritually for whatever it might be.

The next morning you woke up early and went to prepare healing supplies for the day with Mo'at. After first meal you sat working quietly when your curiosity got the best of you.

"Have you seen Neytiri this morning? I would like to suggest our third mate to her before we present him to you." You say and Mo'at clicks her tongue disapprovingly.

"I have not seen Neytiri today. She was not in her hammock either. I thought she might have slept in here after last night festivities, but she was not here either." Mo'at says and you got the same gut feeling that you had the night prior.

"What if what I am sensing has to do with Neytiri?" You ask Mo'at and her head shoots up to look in your eye.

"It is a possibility. We all return to the Great Mother when the time is right." Mo'at says and you nod.

"I am aware, but my fear exists in having to be given a new mate. I have fallen in love with Neytiri." You tell her and she places a hand on your arm.

"Tsu'tey is in love with Sylwanin. It is why he refused to be chosen to be the third mate. However, if it must happen he knows he is the first choice to take Neytiri's place." Mo'at says. "For both Olo'eyktan and as your mate. He holds the right to refuse our choice, as you do." It seems like she is going to continue speaking when you hear Tsu'tey shouting in the main area. You and Mo'at look at eachother then go to investigate. His hunting party returned early from their outing and you frown.

"Tsu'tey, what is the meaning of this?" You ask him and he looks over at you.

"The demons have destroyed the Tree of Voices. They flattened them to the ground and left nothing of them behind." Tsu'tey says and your hands fly to your mouth. A startled cry erupts from your throat.

"Neytiri might have been showing them to Jake now that he is one of The People." You told Mo'at quietly and you see a short moment of fear cross her features.

"We must stay here. Soon it will be your time to take my place in deciding to take action to war. You must learn to make this decision, ma'ite." Mo'at says and you bow your head in understanding. The proceedings were intense but there was no opposition to going to war with the demons. Tsu'tey was celebrating the preparation of war when Jake and Neytiri emerged from the crowd. You felt relief flood your body when you saw Neytiri was okay, so you made your way to her. But her scent was off. She did not smell just of herself but Jake as well and you took a step away from her. Tsu'tey shoved Jake to the ground and Neytiri pushed him away, and you knew.

"You mated with this woman?" Tsu'tey asked as he cast his eyes to you, who stood nearby.

"Is this true?" Mo'at asked angrily as she came forward. Neytiri looked like a child who had just gotten caught doing something they weren't supposed to do.

"We are mated before Eywa. It is done." Neytiri says in finality and you wrap your arms around yourself. Mo'at pulls you into her arms when she senses your sadness well up within you.

"Ma'tiyawn, we wanted you to come with us but we could not find you." Neytiri says as she tries to come to you but you put your hand up to silence her.

"You have made me the third." You tell her and her ears pinned back. "If you had both waited until this morning I was going to speak with you privately about taking him as our third. However, you have now disrespected my placement on our mating by doing this." You tell her and Neytiri looks close to tears and Jake is looking at you with eyes full of hope.

"Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'ite, because of this you can never be Olo'eyktan. Your actions have shown impatience and impulsive behavior, which cannot be tolerated from a leader." Mo'at says. "(Y/n) will remain tsakarem and Tsu'tey will become her Olo'eyktan and mate should he accept." Mo'at speaks in an authoritative tone and she looks at Tsu'tey.

"I accept." Tsu'tey says as he makes eye contact with you. Jake speaks up after all of this is declared.

"Tsu'tey, brother. Do not attack the sky people. Many Omatikaya will die if you do." Jake says and Tsu'tey pulls out his knife.

"You are NOT my brother!" Tsu'tey attacks Jake only for Jake to throw him off balance.

"And I am not your enemy! The real enemy is out there and they are very powerful!" Jake says. "I can talk to them."

"No more talk!" Tsu'tey yells as he charges forward to try to attack Jake again but he sidesteps his attack and only sustains a cut. Tsu'tey tries to stab Jake again only for Jake to stop his arm, punch him across the jaw, knees him in the chest, then punches him directly in his nose. You gawk at the fighting style as it is foreign to you and you immediately recognize that this man is far more trained than most of your clan.

"I am Omatikaya. I am one of you. And I have the right to speak." Jake says. "I have something to say... to all of you." Jake pauses and grimaces. "The words are like stones in my heart." He finishes in the demon language.

Grace drops to the ground and you run to her side and start looking over her for any wounds.

"Grace!" Neytiri yells and drops to her knees on her other side.

"Oh no. Look I was sent here to-" Jake says in a rushed manner then promptly falls to his knees. Tsu'tey takes this as an opportunity and lifts Jake's head up with his knife to Jake's throat.

"You see? It is a demon in a false body." Tsu'tey says and Neytiri pounces on his back and throws him away from Jake's still body. He directs his knife toward her and she stands over Jake protectively with hers drawn as well. You exhale and walk back to the healer's area to continue preparations. Some time later Jake and Grace are awake again and Mo'at gathers you to stand beside her.

"Ma'Eytukan! I have something to say." Jake says hurriedly and Grace joins his side.

"Listen to him." She says.

"Speak JakeSulí." Eytukan says and Jake takes a deep breath.

"A great evil is upon us. The sky people are coming to destroy Hometree!" Jake says and Mo'at becomes concerned. "Tell 'em they're gonna be here soon." He says to Neytiri and she translates for Eytukan.

"Are you certain of this?" Mo'at asks.

"Look, they sent me here to learn your ways. So that one day I could deliver this message and you'd believe it." Jake says and you glare at him.

"What are you saying Jake? That you knew this would happen?" Neytiri asks him and he hesitates.

"Yes. Look, at first it was just orders. But then I fell in love. With the forest and with the Omatikaya people. And with you and (Y/n)." Jake says and Neytiri looks like she's holding back tears.

"I trusted you." Neytiri says as she starts to back away from him.

"With you and (Y/n)!" Jake continues to try and calm her but she's angry. She continues to yell at him until she finally walks away from him. Eytukan looks at both yours and Neytiri's sad expressions and turns to the warriors.

"Bind them!" Eytukan says and everything became a blur after that. Grace and Jake were dragged out of Hometree and you stayed with Mo'at inside. After an hour or so you heard the sound of the sky demons machines outside. A few moments later a metal canister flew through the entrance of Hometree. It released smoke that caused your eyes to water so to protect the children and mothers you started telling them to run for the trees. Then they started shooting at Hometree. The explosions throw you off of your feet and you try to push through and get out of Hometree. You're stopped a little ways away from Hometree by Eytukan.

"You must go! Run for the forest!" Eytukan says but he quickly throws you behind him and a massive explosion throws you both off of your feet. When you make contact with the ground your head hits it hard and everything goes dark.

You wake up to the sound of fire and someone shouting for the father. You take notice of Eytukan a short way away and run to his side as best as you can.

"Ma'Eytukan... I'm so sorry. I should have gotten up sooner." You cry as you look over the piece of wood that's straight through his chest.

"Ma'ite. Lead the people wisely." Eytukan says as he takes off his headpiece and hands it to you and you cry harder.

"Ma'sempul!" You finally recognize the voice as Neytiri's as she finds you both. She cries out as she joins you by his side.

"Ma'ite, protect the people." Eytukan says as he hands Neytiri his bow. When she has a good hold on it his arm goes slack. Neytiri falls into hysterical crying and you wrap an arm around her shoulder as you sob quietly next to her.

"Neytiri! (Y/n)!" You hear Jake searching for both you and his mate, but you can't bring yourself to look up at him. He stumbles into the small clearing you're in and he drops to his knees on Eytukans other side. He looks over the beloved Olo'eyktans dead body and he reaches over to set one hand on Neytiri's neck and takes one of your hands in his.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Jake says trying to console both of you.

"Get away." Neytiri says through sobs but her sadness quickly turns to anger. "Get away! Get away from here, never come back." She takes Jake's place and cradles her father's body in her arms as she continues to cry. Jake looks on like he's lost and turns then leaves. You put on the headpiece that Eytukan gave you and quietly follow Jake. He collapses and you check him over to make sure he wasn't wounded but find he's alright. You leave your leather pouch full of fresh water on his chest and run off to follow the rest of the clan to the Tree of Souls.

The next couple of days are filled with sadness as the clan mourns the loss of the Olo'eyktan and Hometree. However, the days following Toruk Maktos return are chaotic. War breaks out as 15 clans come together to rid the world of the demons. In the war, you lost your second promised mate and you feel lost.

After a new Hometree is found a new Olo'eyktan is chosen, and it's Toruk Makto himself. Mo'at refused to allow her daughter the title because of her past actions. During the time of rebuilding Jake and Neytiri approached you.

"I meant what I said before the destruction of the original Hometree. I want to be mated with both of you because I am in love with you. The passion and love your eyes held when you taught me about Eywa and helped teach me the language. It made you even more beautiful than you already are. Please join us in our mating?" Jake says and he offers you his tswin and Neytiri offers hers as well. Your breathing becomes shallow as you look from the eyes to their tswin's presented to you. You feel tears start to fall from your eyes and Jake uses his free hand to wipe them away. You take a deep breath and present your tswin to them. The three groups of nerve endings dance until they all bond together. You wrap one arm around Jake's waist and the other around Neytiri's shoulders. The intimacy quickly changes from gentle and comforting, to aroused and complete.

Months later you welcome your first son into the world as Neteyam te Sulí Tsyeyek'itan, right after little Kiri te Sulí Kìreysì'ite born from Grace's avatar, then Neytiri brought Lo'ak te Sulí Tsyeyek'itan. Many cycles later both you and Neytiri brought one more child each. She gave birth to Tukitery te Sulí Neytiri'ite, and you were blessed with another boy, on the same day as Neytiri welcomed Tuk, you welcomed Tomis te Sulí Tsyeyek'itan. Blessed was the only word you would use to describe your life now as you watched your mate teach and play with your children.

Permanent Taglist(message me if you want taken off of it): @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @kenzi-woycehoski.

#avatar #jake sully x reader x neytiri #jake sully x reader #neytiri #neytiri x reader #jake sully #avatar 2009

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wizardshark · 1 month

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For the DnD nerds who care about the rules a lot:

This is a 1 on 1 fight that contains 3 rounds. You win one fight, you go to the next round. At the start of the tournament everyone has taken a long rest, and between each round they get only a short rest.

Propaganda both for AND against in the readmore.

Adaine Abernant

For: Wizards have been the strongest class since 1st edition and it ain't changing now baby. One portent roll for each fight is enough to guarantee a turn to cast a wizard save-or-suck spell.

Against: This girl killed one person ONE time and had a break down about it, has frequent panic attacks, and her AC is 15. She has no real defensive options and will die as all wizards die: with an axe in their nervous system.

Fabian Aramais Seacaster

For: Short rests? Sounds like a fighter's adventuring day! Three attacks + superiority dice + spell slot smiting + Action surge to do it again is killing everyone but Gorgug before they can even get a turn.

Against: Melee fighters, famously, can't do shit all if you stand over there ->, and a single reroll for a save-or-suck isn't going to be very much against any spellcaster who, dare I say, casts more than 1 (that is, one) spell in the fight. Insult his dad and bait him into doing something stupid, GG EZ

Figueroth Faeth

For: Literal archdemon resists the biggest energy damage types, tons of spell slots and warlock shenanigans to play you like a fiddle, then smite you to death when you're finally just trying to get anything done.

Against: "I have no single target DAMAGE" - quote from Emily. This bitch got no single target damage and these are 1 v 1 fights. Yeah Paladins can nova but they have no spell slot regeneration, after the first fight, which you KNOW she will spam her whole arsenal, girl will be all out of resources. More likely to disguise self to be the referee and skateboard away.

Gorgug Thistlespring

For: Did you see him solo a purple worm in the last stand?? Able to concentrate on artificer spells while in a rage too. THE classic 1v1 class, resists your damage and crits you every turn.

Against: Single minded to the extreme. Spellcasting is the classic counter to an angy barbarian. Yeah he has mindless rage, poor Fig, but anyone with any CC that isn't a charm effect won't even give him a target to try to charge down. Mention his parent's lawnmower and defeat him while he is distracted.

Kristen Applebees

For: Clerics are strong! We can pretend all we like that healers are boring but she can hit you hard and keep herself topped out on HP, AC, Save bonuses, and do you in with spirit guardians and spiritual weapon with no problem. You see the muscles on that girl? The gay one, I mean, not the straight british one.

Against: 4 dexterity

Riz "The Ball" Gukgak

For: These bitches are BLIND blind. Reliable talent stealth checks puts him above 20 every time. Sneak attack damage won't explode anyone but the most squishy, but is extremely reliable with a bonus action hide. He will eat your bones.

Against: Actual skill monkey. He has a cool gun but he's an arcane trickster built for non-combat. Investigate an arm around his neck and pickpocket a knife into his belly and you've got the win easy. Man couldn't even get onto the owl bears until there was no one left to swap in except him. Will probably be too exhausted to put up a good fight.

#dimension 20 #dimension twenty #fantasy high #polls #gilear is the referee

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psychelis-new · 2 years

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pick a pile: "Your soulmate's light and dark"

take a breath and choose the photo/number that calls you the most to read about what may be the "good" and "bad" sides of your soulmate: remember a soulmate can be either romantic or platonic (it's part of our soulmate family). I will let the message open to any type of soulmate also cause not everyone wants a romantic partner now.

As you can see from the pics, the reading is divided in two parts: if you feell called by the light side of one pile and the dark side of another, it's obviously fine. Sometimes lights aspect may mix up with dark ones and vice versa: it's fine. Nobody's here to judge what is really light or dark in everyone's life. Thanks to the 2 Anons who suggested this topic.

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

1 2 3 4 top part/colored pics : light sides bottom part/bnw pics : dark sides - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

--light--

Someone good with words and communication, very talented in what they do. Someone that may be rich, not just with money but also in experiences. Someone into magic or that has magical abilities (or perceived so). A joyful optimistic, open, ambitious, spiritual, not too corrupted by the harsh world, and healing for you. Your connection may bring healing to both of you. Balanced, may also be doing two jobs. Very giving to those they like/love, the classic "helping hand". May also be an healer as a job (also through communication). They may be healing some dark aspects of them too atm. Physical in their displays of affections (loves hugging).

song: quiver | lonas

--dark--

A "shield hard to break": might not be easy to get closer to them, not much physically but emotionally. May have had not positive past experiences or fear being played with; once they trust you though, nothing can break that trust (unless you do something stupid which ofc would make them show you a different side of them: I think may have problems with anger, at times). Kinda possessive/jealous of their partner and friends/family. Likes to take care of you/them and go beyond in order to do that (meaning they may second guess themselves, at least on occasions). [18+ MESSAGE: may be a dom and like to tie you or ordering you]

song: the boy is mine | brandy and monica

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 2

--light--

I keep hearing "simplicity is the key". Might not appear or stand out physically, but hides loads of amazing and different traits in their character. Sophisticated, empathic, harmonious, likes to be one of the many out in the world, but appreciate everytime someone (and in particular you/their family/friends) remind them of how much important they are. Wise, smart, into books, a philanthropist. Might be donating a lot to charity. The person you'd go to for advices. Has continuosly transformed, grown and adapted through their life. Might be popular, even just in their field or city.

song: the fabulous emancipation of one harley quinn | daniel pemberton

--dark--

Too kind for the world, too sweet, too easily hurt. Too giving. Still needs to work on boundaries and self esteem/worth. Tendencies to people please, feeling neglected and abandoned on occasions. Still needs to work on some of their traumas, despite how much they've already done. Might fear running out of time and gets anxious. Needs someone to ground them and remind them it's fine to not know and to be patient and hopeful. To not be scared. Might have fear of commitment/intimacy, and not realize when it's time to take a step back and see how much they've done. They want to do more constantly. They need to do better. Never satisfied. Always searching for something else, and for someone that needs them/their help. Needs to learn how to take care of/show up for themselves.

song: song of the sea | lisa hannigan

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pile 3

--light--

This person is light. And love. Bright, optimistic, happy, a warm ray of sunshine. Ofc they have some issues too, but when they're around others, they try to be as positive and encouraging as possible. They want to see people succeed. And applaude them. They are a gift from heaven to everyone they encounter. People may randomly start speaking with them, confessing stuff to them e.g. when on a train or in line at the grocery shop. They make people feel understood and never judged. Very welcoming, accepting and kind energy. Tend to not see immediately when they're being deceived, may be a bit naive.

song: if you love me | brownstone

--dark--

Nobody/not many know this cause they rarely speak about their darkest side, but they've been through hell and back. They've been in the mud, they navigated the darkest waters but still managed to came out so pure and kind as nothing happened. Only at their core they know and remember every little step of those trips (and sometimes they may still feel that deep hurt). They have known hate, judgment, abandonment, neglect... maybe even more. They stayed strong through all that, through all the physical and mental struggles. It doesn't matter if others aren't aware of this trait and tend to judge them easily as a "lucky one". They want to save others from experiencing the same hell, and for this reason they try to be this bright kind person everytime they can. They didn't let pain change them.

song: fade away | lucky daye

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pile 4

--light--

A little bright pure star. Someone who likes to be at the center of attention, doesn't mind that. Might be popular online/make public speeches. May like to be different or results different in their environment (clothing/style, physical features...). Healing eyes/smile. May help those around them to change perspective, to see how beauty is hidden in the darkest places. May have scars or some other particular feature/medical aspect, and not mind showing them and how well you can live even while being "imperfect". They may nurture everyone's fears, trying to help them balance their mind and emotions also by being an example/guide (for some). Someone everybody can learn a lot from. They "change the game" (and mentality) of people. Strong minded. They use their differences (whatever those are) as a way to stand out from the crowd. Not as something to be afraid but to be proud of. Leader.

song: wanna be on your mind | valerie june

--dark--

Might have slightly manipulative behaviour occasionally, in particular when triggered. May fear not making it, not having done enough, not being able to do enough. Might fear to be forgotten by their dear ones in particular. Despite not regretting being different, secretly wants to be as anyone else especially when triggered (our emotional immaturity comes out when we're triggered). Needs time outs to get away from those moments (especially in nature/meditating). Constantly fighting with their mind and emotions to keep a balance, may experience outburst of anger and powerlessness/unworthiness. Might try to isolate themselves, not to hurt others. A bit of self sabotage and impostor syndrome. Might find their self validation in others.

song: under my skin | claudia kane

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specialagentlokitty · 1 year

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Neytiri x Sibling!reader - spiritually

Could I send an avatar request for being Neytiri’s younger sibling, please? - Anon💜

A/N: Na’vi will be written in italics

Standing behind your mother, hands on her back, you peaked around her to face your older sister and the strange na’vi she had brought here with her.

She translated for the male who couldn’t seem to understand your language and as you looked at him, you saw something familiar inside of him.

Similar to your sister in a way.

“(Y/N) what is it?” You mother whispered.

“Eywa has chosen him, we must respect her choice and have faith she has made it for a reason, correct?”

Your mother nodded and your father looked at you, holding his hand out.

Taking his hand, you let him pull your forward to stand next to him and you placed your hand on your forehead bowing a little.

“I see you.”

He copied you.

“I see you, speak my child, what are your thoughts?”

You turned to your sister and walked over, and she bowed her head a little at you and you did the same before walking around the man.

Jake he was called.

He dressed strangle, in clothes that belonged to the sky people’s. Yet he looked like you, just like Grace did, and you knew she was a sky person.

So he was the same you knew that for a fact.

Jake seemed to grow nervous as you looked at him, and you heard him whispering in English but you couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“This man knows nothing of our language, of our cultures and traditions.”

“But Eywa has chosen him (Y/N).”

You turned to Neytiri.

“I know, I am simply trying to figure out why. This man is no hunter, no healer, what can he do for us?”

Neytiri repeated this question to Jake who looked at you in confusion.

“I don’t understand.. who is this…?” Jake asked.

“My younger Sibling, (Y/N). They do not grace us often with their presence but they have chosen to come see for themselves.”

Jake nodded.

“I was a warrior.”

Neytiri translated everything he was saying to you and you nodded along.

“If Eywa has chosen it has been done. She has made her choice, we believe in her, I believe there is a reason why the great mother has sent him to us.”

“You a certain of this?” You father asked.

You nodded your head and he tasked your older sister with teaching Jake everything about your people and you left.

You made your way back to the top of the tree, sitting on one of the branches as you stared at the base of the sky people in the distance.

You were a peacemaker, you didn’t enjoy war or conflict, like your mother you were spiritual, you spoke and connected to Eywa and your ancestors through the souls.

You heard whispered among the voices of someone who would save your tribe, who would help fight the sky people.

Jake Sully was this man and you knew that.

You kept a close eye on him though, while your sister seemed fond of him and seemed to trust him you didn’t, and while he was learning to connect with his direhorse.

“He is a fool, he will never be one of us.” Tsu’tey grumbled.

You looked up from your perch on a rock, arms resting over your legs as you carefully watched.

“You cannot seriously think he will ever become one of us Neytiri.” He scoffed.

“He simply must learn.” She replied.

You hummed a little, nodding your head at her response.

“He’s going to get himself killed.”

“Tsu’tey, that is enough. We were all once new to this and had to learn, Jakesully is no different than any of the children.”

Tsu’tey grumbled but he knew better then to talk against you, he simply left.

Neytiri turned to face you, smiling.

“Thank you.”

You gave a small nod of your head.

“He is a slow learner, but he will get there eventually.”

Neytiri smiled and jumped up to sit behind you while you watched Jake try to wipe some mud away from his face.

He looked up at you and titled his head a little.

“Maybe you can teach me?”

He grinned a little and you smiled.

“You have a good grasp of our language. I am not the one tasked to help you learn however.”

“What is it you do exactly if you’re not a Hunter?”

“Jake!”

You placed a hand over your sisters to calm her down and turned back to the learning na’vi.

“I am spiritual leader, next in line after my mother. I speak on behalf of Eywa and interpret her will. I teach the lessons our ancestors speak and give consult to my other on what he must do.”

“Oh I see, you’re like second in command.”

“Fourth. After my father, mother and sister.”

“They seem to respect you a lot though.”

You jumped down, walking around Jake as you pat his direhorse on the head, pressing your forehead to yours stroking her gently.

“Respect must be earned, it is not given. We all make our choices Jakesully, you must ensure you are making the right ones.”

Jake walked around to look at you as you stepped away.

“What if I make the wrong one?”

“In life we make mistakes, that does not mean we cannot learn from them. You must follow your heart, it always knows the way. Eywa guides us, leads us. She is never wrong, neither is your heart.”

With that you left and Jake watched you go before turning to Neytiri.

“They’re very political.”

“They always have been. We know not why. But they are destined for great things I know.”

Neytiri smiled and Jake smiled as well.

“So can I get extra lessons from them on spirituality or whatever?”

Neytiri laughed a little.

“I’ll take to them, now, again.”

#avatar #avatar x reader #avatar x you #avatar imagine #neytiri #neytiri x reader #neytiri x you #Neytiri imagine #neytiri x y/n

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dirtyvirgotarot · 1 year

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PICK-A-CARD: A Fun New Career or Hobby To Look Into! Your Gifts!

Looking to see what might be a fun hobby for you?? This PAC might help you figure out what to research and dive deep into!!! :D Pick a pile and let's branch out!! ~~~~~~~~ Pile 1 (The Sketches): Pile 1, you have a magic within you that rivals most. I see you being incredible mystics, card readers, witches, what have you! This is the pile where those with incredible intuition have gathered. If you're looking at pick-a-cards regularly, drawn in by them for whatever reason, maybe try learning more about the technical side of them! Pick up a deck, watch some Youtube videos, and unlock your inner potential as a magic practitioner! I can see that this might actually be a huge revelation for you... This may lead to a bigger awakening, beyond just a hobby. More a spiritual awakening. You may find that it helps you in more ways than one, or makes you a happier person. I am getting a HUGE message about divine timing. The only warning I will give you, Pile 1, is that I can see that for some of you, there is a competitive spirit within you. That's great! However, you must keep it healthy. Do not become obsessed with creating the best pick-a-cards, or the best videos, or what have you. In that, you will fail. To think that the best place is at the TOP of the mountain is the way of the fool. It is within the mountain that you will find the riches of the earth!! :D Regardless, I see abundance and divine timing waiting for you in this hobby! You DO possess a special gift inside of you, and it wants to grow. Your intuition and synchronicity is high. You may have strange, almost prophetic-seeming dreams. This is the universe trying to tell you something! Whether you would like to listen further to the call, or ignore it, is entirely up to you. ✨ ~~~~~~~~ Pile 2 (The Blue Guitar):

Pile 2, you are healers by trade. You always know just the right thing to say. There are three specific messages coming through, so take whatever one resonates more for you! For some, I see that a good career for you might be a social counselor. A therapist, a case worker, a couples therapist, something along those lines! For others, I see that doing special events might be fulfilling for you as well! Whether that's event coordinating, planning, or playing at a wedding! It even could be charity work that you do, helping others in their desperate time of need. I can even see a mortician for a select few. No matter what the career or hobby would be, you would suit best in a job that takes the weight off of others' shoulders, that mends the cracks in someone's heart or relationships. You want to help. The two I listed are just that, two of the many, many hobbies and jobs that can help others for the better. I do see the potential to start a lifelong career out of this gift, if you so desire. You are wonderful at healing, and stopping or preventing conflict. You are a very down to earth, yet very curious person. It takes a LOT to upset you, Pile 2. That isn't a gift everyone has! Find a way to use your kindness and desire to help in the way you think best! 💗 ~~~~~~~~ Pile 3 (The Biker): Pile 3, you are my activists. You fight for what is right, whether it be for people, or to become the personal attorneys-at-law for Mother Earth herself! You don't mind the idea of your hobby/career being thankless or dirty, as long as justice is served to the masses. You are sharp-witted and quick with your tongue, you can lay down the hard-hitting facts. This could be journalism or journaling, it could be preservation, archiving, becoming a disability or accident lawyer, a conservationist or arborist. Gardening, a plant enthusiast, geology, archeology, a librarian, your soul is inclined to help preserve, to continue. You are incredibly smart and intelligent, and you tend to like to work either directly in the spotlight, or behind the scenes. You are unafraid of what others may think of what you do, say or think, and that's just how you like it, Pile 3! A strong spirit who just wants what's best. You may be bookish, and love to read. I can absolutely see you making a career out of this, in fact, if you try, you're pretty much destined to succeed, Pile 3! You are armed to the teeth with knowledge. Use it! 💅 ~~~~~~~~ Pile 4 (The Frosting): Pile 4, your hobby/career is certainly more of a behind-the-scenes deal. Something that is taken for granted often, however, you are certainly a carefree spirit! You don't mind, you just flow with the wind. You're a quiet and introverted person for the most part, but you shine bright like a firefly whenever you're around others! You have a cheerful disposition despite your quietness. Yoga is something that is being screamed into my brain!! Whether it's taking up yoga, or being a yoga instructor, it's certainly something that may help you at this time. I have a feeling that times may be rough for you, but you have more tools than you think you do. Meditation, yoga, and other mindfulness exercises are suggested to you! For others, I can also see you having a career in hospitality. Whether it's a maid, janitor, a hotel worker, or even something like a taxi/Uber driver or bus driver, you would fit that sort of work well. Something generally quiet where you can stick to yourself most of the time, with only basic contact with others. You get things done best when you're by yourself, and that's great! You also are suggested to take up a creative hobby as well! You do your best thinking at work, when you can just focus on a mindless task and zone out. Crafting, scrapbooking, or coloring is recommended! :D Keep on keepin' on, Pile 4! 🏃 ~~~~~~~~ I'd love to hear feedback in the comments about what you think about the pile you chose, and if it interests you! I can always do an individual extension for your pile if you order a personal reading from me here! -DV

#dvpac #tarot community #tarot reading #disability friendly #disabled creator #image id #lgbtqai+ friendly #pac tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #disabled #disabled reader #divination #hobbies #career #flashing #flashing lights

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ghoul-bonez · 1 year

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~Let Eventually Be Today~

(Jake Sully x Fem! Reader x Neytiri)

Summary: You had been hesitant about Jake from the moment Neytiri brought him to the Home Tree, but with a little push from her you are able to show him the beauty of your home.

Word count: 2.8k

Author’s note: Prequel of “A Lover, Not a Fighter”! This takes place before the kids, so it’s just you, Jake, and Neytiri. Fluffy & happy :) Can definitely be read as a oneshot

When (Y/n) and Jake are speaking English is normal text, and Na’vi is this (bold & italics).

~Series Masterlist~

~Main Masterlist~

Let Eventually Be Today

You had never liked the sky people. You didn’t understand their annoyingly overcomplicated language, or their stupid customs and traditions. You didn’t want to understand either. You had been given many chances to learn, and a few of those your best friend, Neytiri, had taken advantage of.

When a school was opened by a few sky people in things called avatars Neytiri’s parents thought it was smart for her to attend alongside her older sister, Sylwanin, who you were also pretty close to. The clan leader’s children attending a school made by sky people, you would scoff whenever you would think about it. Sylwanin was required to attend, but in the end Neytiri had been given a choice, and she had chosen to attend.

You hated the school, mostly the idea of it, your people learning the ways of the sky people. Why would you need to understand their ways? They don’t belong here, they shouldn’t be here.

One thing you hated more, though, were the avatars. You didn’t understand what they were, or how they worked, but it made you uncomfortable that the sky people were able to look so much like you. You didn’t like that they could look like everyone around you. Like your family, your leaders, your friends.

Neytiri had loved the school while it had lasted, and she would rant to you about how fun it was every time she would get the chance. She was always disappointed when she would drop by your home every morning to see if you would be accompanying her, and you would shoot her down. She wanted you to learn about the sky people with her. She wanted to show you Grace, and her love for the land. She wanted to show you the good side of the sky people. How naive she was to think they could do any good.

The day everything went downhill had been another day Neytiri had invited you to come with her, and like every other day you had told her no. Instead you stayed behind in Home Tree with her mom, Mo’at, the Tsahik, and helped her create healing pastes. You stayed with what you were comfortable with, and that was healing your people.

You had heard of the tragedy quickly, Mo’at being the first person to be told after her husband. She quickly rushed you out of the healing hut and towards your parents who had rushed to find you, to make sure you weren’t with Neytiri. They feared today may have been the day you had submitted to Neytiri’s pleas for you to join her.

Thankfully you hadn’t, and you were okay, but that couldn’t be said for everyone. Sylwanin had been caught in the crossfire and had been returned to the Great Mother. It didn’t feel like her time, it shouldn't have been her time, but something that brought you comfort was that she was now with Eywa, she would be okay. She was safe and happy in the arms of the Great Mother.

The clan had been distraught over the death of Sylwanin, but for you what had really hurt about the loss of Sylwanin was the pain you could feel radiating off of Neytiri. She had lost her big sister, her only sibling, and on top of that she would have to take over Tsahik training when her mother deemed her ready.

You had always been spiritual, even more so than the future Tsahik of the people. You believed wholeheartedly in your Great Mother and would frequently be shown signs of big events coming up. Mo’at had taken you under her wing and you were becoming a talented healer, even though you may never be Tsahik she knew you and Neytiri were close and you would always be there to help.

You and Neytiri had always been close, and you had always harbored feelings for her, always been deeply, hopelessly, in love with her. You had held it close to your heart for years, but eventually you couldn’t hold it in anymore and decided to show her your heart, your most secret feelings. You had told her “Neytiri, I see you.” and she had responded back “I see you too.”, bringing you a sense of happiness, purer than any other feeling you had ever felt.

From then on you had begun courting each other, showing your love outwardly with gifts, and small touches when you found each other throughout your day. You both knew one day you would need to find an Olo’eyktan, but for now you chose to simply exist.

After the incident at the school none of the sky people had dared to come close to Home Tree, not even pushing the limits by touching the land surrounding it. It had stayed that way for years, until recently. You had foreseen a sky person in an avatar body coming to Home Tree, and had confided this information in Mo’at who’s heart sank at the information.

She had quickly prepared the clan for a sky person invasion, but when your prophecy came to be it wasn’t an attack, but instead one lonely avatar being led into the Home Tree by Neytiri. How could she? Why would she? Who was he?

He had introduced himself with meaningless words, but the only thing you had understood was his name, Jake Sully. You chose to ignore him, standing to the side of Mo’at with your nose turned up at him. You could feel his eyes on you, but you stood strong as he studied you, but you couldn’t help as you felt hot under his gaze. Your skin felt like it was burning, an uncomfortable feeling settled over you about the demon looking at you for so long.

You didn’t speak English, nor did you plan on learning, but there was something so captivating about Jake Sully that made you crave talking to him. You wanted to communicate, to learn more about him, to let him learn more about you, but there was the stupid language barrier, and you were stubborn. No matter how much you wanted to talk to him you wouldn’t learn the demon’s tongue, so he would have to learn yours, and you would have to wait.

For now it was standing awkwardly near each other if Neytiri wasn’t there, and when she was with you there was simple conversation with Neytiri as the translator, the inbetween. She didn’t mind being the inbetween, but she had started seeing Jake as she was seeing you, and she wanted you and Jake to see each other the same.

That would be hard to do since you couldn’t talk to each other without her help, but she was determined to have you come together.

It was a special day, not in celebration, or tradition, but you and Neytiri had a day off for once. She was not busy with Jake who had some human matters to attend to, and you had a break from healing as a new group of young healers were passing important tests to become fully fledged healers of the clan.

Neytiri turned to you from the basket she was weaving, “(Y/n), you know the kenten are breeding this time of year, yes?”

“Mhm.” You simply hummed, focusing carefully on the pattern you were weaving into a necklace, a necklace for Jake, but nobody had to know for now.

Neytiri continued on, knowing you were listening to her although you weren’t giving her your whole attention, “I would love to take Jake to see them, but I’m busy helping my mother every evening.”

You smiled, thinking about the brightly colored lizards contrasting against the night sky, “You are right, evening is the best time to see them…”

“Why don’t you take Jake?” She nudged your side.

You sighed, placing the necklace on the ground and turning your undivided attention to her, “I don’t know, Ney. I’m not sure he would like to go alone with me.”

Neytiri looked at you, holding your hands in hers, she looked determined, “(Y/n) I am not asking at this point, I am telling, you are going to take Jake to see the kenten.” She instructed you, setting it in stone.

“Okay.” You spoke quietly, “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” She confirmed.

When tomorrow came you were nervous, you hadn’t felt this nervous about being alone with anyone since before you confessed to Neytiri, but this was different, he wasn’t Neytiri. He scared you, and excited you, which was an odd juxtaposition of feelings. He was a sky person, dangerous, but he was nothing but polite to you. He was respectful and kind, and he treated Neytiri well.

You had taken extra time to prepare yourself, fixing your hair and straightening your top, before finding him and Neytiri on the other side of the village. They were sitting together, sharpening their knives.

You knew very few words in English but you had picked up “come” somewhere, and so you instructed Jake, “Come!”

He looked at Neytiri, who was smiling widely at you, shock evident on his face. He just nodded, yes, before you pulled him up by the arm and started leading him into the forest.

Jake seemed confused as to why you were pulling him into the forest, and so you spoke to him, “It’s kenten breeding time.” You tried to explain, but Jake just looked at you confused.

You sighed, it would always be frustrating with the challenge in communication. Instead of focusing on your frustration you put your concentration on finding a large leaf with a bunch of kenten sitting on it. The leaf you chose was just about at your head height so you stood on your tiptoes, watching the small lizard creatures, sitting there peacefully. It was a shame you would have to disturb them, but you didn’t really feel that bad because of the joy their light brought you.

You paused, making sure Jake was watching before tapping the leaf and disturbing them. They all flew up in a flurry of lights, swirling colors twirling around you and Jake. They danced through the sky like shooting stars, and you remembered Neytiri telling you about how the sky people make wishes on them. You wondered if they remind Jake the same, if he was making a wish, or a few, as the myriad of kenten floated past you.

“Whoah!” Jake exclaimed, a look of joy on his face.

When they hit the ground you couldn’t help but to turn to Jake, watching him. He had stars in his eyes, and you wondered if your planet lived up to the one he had come from, knowing nothing about Earth. You hoped it did, you hoped he loved Pandora like he loved his past home, because now your home was his, to share.

You couldn’t help but giggle as he directed his smile towards you. You felt hot under his gaze, just like you had the first time you saw him, but this time it didn’t make you uncomfortable. This time you didn’t feel like your skin was on fire, but instead you felt the warmth inside. Your heart felt like it was exposed to an open flame, but instead of being close enough to be burned it felt like you were sitting by it conversing with the ones you loved.

It felt like the warmth that radiates off of Neytiri’s body as she holds you close. It felt like the warmth the sun provided as it broke through the forest’s canopy as you napped on the softest patch of grass you could find. It felt like the warmth of a parent’s embrace, like a hug when they were proud of you.

It was a calming, comforting warmth that had spread through your whole body, leaving you craving more. You wanted Jake to hold you close, you wanted to feel the physical warmth he would provide. You wanted him much like you had wanted Neytiri all the years before you confessed.

Unlike Neytiri this was a new love, a fast one. You had fallen fast and hard, like you had fallen from your ikran and were plummeting to the ground. All you could do was hope Jake would be there to catch you before you crashed, before you met your early demise.

You would never know, because Jake would never admit it, but even though you had fallen harder, Jake had fallen first. He had been enamored by you the second Neytiri had introduced you to him. There was something that had attracted him to you, like a pull he didn’t understand. He was drawn in by your hatred for his kind, something about how stubborn you were that you refused to learn his language pulled him in.

“That was awesome!” Jake said, but you didn’t understand him, the words sounding like jumbled noises.

“More?” you asked, hoping he would understand that very basic word.

“More!” He repeated back, already searching for another leaf around you. You had lost his attention, and you giggled at his childish nature, searching for more fun.

“JakeSully.” You called after him, snagging his attention from his mission.

“Yeah?” He asked in English, before seeing your confusion and speaking in Na’vi, “Yes?”

You fiddled with the pouch that was resting on your hip, pulling out the necklace you had made for him. It took longer than you would have liked with your shaky hands, but when you had it in your grasp you held it out to him, “For you.”

“Oh.” He looked surprised, not saying anything else.

Anxiety quickly bubbled in your gut, why was he so surprised. Did he not like the necklace, did he not like you?

Your train of thoughts stopped when he grabbed your wrist, holding your shaking hands still so he could study the necklace. Now instead of looking surprised he smiled, “Thank you. Pretty.” His Na’vi was shaky, mispronouncing the words like a child, but you appreciated every time he tried to communicate with you.

“Turn around, I will put it on you.” You smiled, excited he liked it.

He just raised his eyebrows, and you found yourself appreciating your differences for once. Even though you were different, you decided it wasn’t all bad. Maybe some of your differences were cute, like the hair above his eyes that moved with his facial expressions.

Since he didn’t understand what you had said you placed your hands on his shoulders, guiding him to turn around. When his back was to you, you reached around his front, placing the necklace where it was supposed to sit against his chest, and tying it behind his neck.

When he felt you were done he turned back to you, a smile plastered on his face wide enough to rival yours which reached your eyes only like it did when you were with Neytiri. She was so perfect to you, and now Jake seemed the same. They were so different, but you loved them the same.

Even with the good feelings flowing through you, you had a hard time admitting you loved him, really loved him. You loved Neytiri with all of your heart, and it would be hard for you to share that with someone else.

You loved Neytiri like you loved your home, your people, your Great Mother. Your love for her felt so natural, like you were always meant to love her. Her love was comfortable and sweet like you were meant for her, and only her.

Your feelings for Jake were like learning something new, something you weren’t yet good at. Being around him was comforting, but you couldn’t understand why. His attention made you burn, made you feel warm, and sometimes it hurt, but the burn was worth it in the end.

He burned you, but he didn’t mean to, so instead of worrying about never healing from the burn you fought off those thoughts of pain. You wanted to trust him, but he made you feel for him in new and scary ways. He didn’t want to be dangerous, he wanted to be one of the people, he wanted to be let into your life. He had taken time to learn your ways, to learn your language, and you couldn't help but allow yourself to let go of your worries a little bit, but it was hard.

You didn’t want to love him, your instincts still telling you he was bad, dangerous, maybe even deadly. He was still a sky person, and in a body like yours, and that made him dangerous. You didn’t speak his language, and his people had caused you more pain than good. You couldn’t love Jake, couldn’t admit that to yourself, but day by day you allowed yourself to let him in a little bit more.

You had always been a lover, not a fighter, so why fight your love for Jake? You would give in eventually, so let eventually be today.

Word Bank:

Tsahik (Spiritual leader)

Great Mother (Eywa)

Eywa (Na’vi goddess)

Olo’eyktan (Clan leader)

Kenten (Fan Lizard)

Ikran (Mountain Banshee)

@im-in-a-pansexual-panik - @ducks118 - @ssc7514 - @sully-stick-together - @gg-trini

#fanfic #fanfiction #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar movie #atwow #atwow fanfiction #atwow fics #avatar 2009 #jake sully #jake sully x reader #neytiri #neytiri x reader

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seven4asecret · 7 months

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₊✩‧₊˚ Tipping The Scales Pt.2 ˚₊✩‧₊

Moonknight System x Layla x Gn! (Eventual Avatar) Reader

Content & Warnings: No pronouns, no Y/N, no Smut, descriptions of typical violence, eventual polyamory, & badly written fight scenes

Ao3 Wattpad Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Chapter 2: I Swear I'm Not Banging Your Husband! Also, I Can See Ghosts

You lay on your couch, wrapped in a blanket, re-reading the same chapter for at least the third time. There was something about this deity that utterly fascinated you. You had combed the internet after reading about him for the first time, scouring any article you could get your hands on. You had always been morbidly intrigued by deities associated with death, but this was different and you couldn't quite figure out why.

‘Anubis, or Anpu, is quite a complex deity, he plays many roles that often run together. Possibly one of the most notable of these is as a psychopomp. He was not only considered responsible for reviving the dead and allowing them to enter the afterlife but also for leading them to safety. The ancient Egyptians believed the journey through the afterlife was an extremely dangerous one. Anubis would protect the travelers by helping avoid threats by way of concealment and leading them by secret roads only known to him. He also serves as an embalmer and healer. While the process of mummification was an important one, it was much more crucial for the spirit of the deceased to be able to successfully transition into their spiritual body in order to reach the Duat. They believed for this to happen successfully, the body needed to be restored to a preserved state of wholeness. Anubis, the creator of the mummification process, would ensure the soul would be properly revived while intact.'

You turned the page.

‘However, his abilities were not limited to the deceased. He would be more accurately thought of as a deity overseeing healing and initiation. In ancient times injuries and disease were thought to have components that were both seen and unseen. Because of his role in dealing between worlds, he would be ideal to help with both. He and his priests had an excellent knowledge of human anatomy. At royal birthing ceremonies, he would offer the symbol of rebirth, not just life, but rejuvenating life. The Romans believed that Anubis offered power over death. However, he is most notably known as the weigher and accouter of hearts. He is entrusted with making sure-’

Your phone rang.

'Oh no'.

Your stomach dropped, and somehow you knew it was Steven. You hadn't seen him lately, your shifts hadn't intersected, and he hadn't contacted you. Not that he had to, of course. But you couldn't help but worry. What if he had blacked out again? What if he had been caught by the bird-man? You had no idea what to do if that happened. Sage? Salt? Would that work on something so old? You made a mental note to research ancient ghost repellants. You shut Steven's book and rushed over to where your phone sat on the counter. It buzzed, and a number you didn't recognize scrolled past on the top of the screen.

"Hey!" You answered.

"Hiya." You couldn't help but smile at the familiar voice on the other end. It quickly turned into a frown, this wasn't his usual upbeat tone, he sounded dejected.

"Steven, how are you? Is everything alright?" He hesitated at this, causing your frown to deepen.

"Today has been, well the past few days... have been... a lot, really. I was wondering if we...if we could talk again? I-If it's not too much trouble?"

"Yeah...Yeah, of course. It's no trouble." You said softly, relieved to hear from him. You didn't mind taking part of your day off to chat. Honestly were touched that he trusted you enough to want to talk to you about his experiences a second time. "Back at my flat or...?"

"Actually, I was- I was thinking... we could meet up somewhere else. Make it up to you for the other night. Maybe...Maybe grab lunch, y'know? If- if you want of course? "

"Sure!" Your heart fluttered.

"O-okay." He paused. You got the feeling he was surprised that you had accepted his offer. "There's this stand, it's not too far from the building... makes these really good burritos, if you're interested…”

"That sounds great. Text me the location and I'll see you in a few."

"Sure thing! Laters gators!"

"In a while, Crocodile." You hung up and made your way out of the building.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It took you a few seconds to spot Steven in the flow of people, sitting on the side of a large fountain. You blinked as you took him in from a distance. You were used to his passionate and enthusiastic nature. In fact, you had never really known him to be any different until recently. But now he looked downright miserable. His shoulders were hunched more than usual and there was a frown on his face. The usual gleam in his eyes had gone, replaced with an emptiness you had never seen in them before.

"Hey there." You sat next to him. He jumped slightly in surprise.

"Hiya." He returned your greeting, and while his smile didn't reach his eyes, you noticed he perked up a bit at your company.

"I- I got you one." He held out a burrito. "I wasn't- I wasn't sure what you would like so I just got the vegetarian one. Y-you did say you were vegetarian right?"

"Yeah, I am actually." You saw him breathe out a sigh of relief as you took the wrap from him. "You didn't have to do that. I appreciate it, though. It's sweet of you. "

"O-oh, well..." he looked down, a light blush on his face, " I- it's only fair, pay you back for the coffee and the chat, y'know."

A few seconds of silence passed between you.

Steven took a breath before telling you about the next shift he had at the museum. How he had abruptly found himself on the bus there with the bird-man watching him from the street. How the man from the village, the judge of Ammit, showed up at work and referenced events from his 'dreams'. He told you of the jackals the man summoned, how they chased him into the bathroom.

As you listened, you could see clearly how much it had frightened Steven. His eyes would widen, he spoke quicker and began to tremble slightly. He would glance at you from time to time, and though it was incredibly subtle, you saw him relax when your eyes locked. You began to consider part of why he had asked to meet was because he was scared to be alone, reasonably so. And maybe, just maybe, he meant it when he said you made him feel safe. Maybe you couldn't help with his insomnia, the blackouts, or the dreams. But you could make him feel less alone, make him feel safe. Maybe that was enough for now.

He told you how it clawed, growling, about to break through the door. His reflection talked to him again there, it said that he could save him if he gave up control of the body. Steven didn't want to, but he knew he didn't have a choice. Then it went black, only for him to be on his way to his next shift when he came to. Inside the museum, he was greeted with chaos and told that the pipes had burst. When he went to JB to review the security from the previous night there was no evidence of the jackal. All it showed was Steven, implicating him for the damage.

That was certainly not what you'd expected to hear from him.

"Well, that's it. I got the sack. I don't blame 'em. I'm a vandal. I should've been arrested. " He sighed. "But, I have the keys I found in my flat, that's worth exploring, isn't it? Like, if I could find that storage locker, that might be my one chance to prove to myself that I'm not mad."

"Y-yeah. " You nodded, not knowing what to say. This was a lot to take in. Steven obviously wasn't well, he knew that. But at this point, the bird-man, his insomnia, the sleepwalking, those weren't his biggest problems anymore. Quite honestly, You'd thought that you would meet him and suggest he sage his flat. Or just provide support for him while he thinks about his next steps. But now, he had a cult- an actual cult led by a sorcerer after him.

"So I- I was wondering if you'd come with me to the storage locker... " Steven glanced up at you, and you noticed how nervous he seemed. "Maybe keep an eye out for the pigeon if he shows up, y'know... I-if you want?"

"I'd be happy to. Let's go check it out."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You weren't quite sure what to do if this didn't work. You both had made it to four storage places and turned up nothing. Each time Steven would ask if you still wanted to stay, and each time you reassured him you did. You wanted to do something, to help in any way you could. He took a breath when he stepped into the next building.

"Hiya." He greeted the man at the desk.

"Hey."

"You all right?" Steven fidgeted.

"Yeah."

"Yeah. Um, look, man, this is, like, the fifth branch I've been to. I'm looking for my storage locker. It's under "Steven Grant." If it's not under Steven Grant, it might be under "Marc." I don't have a surname, just Marc. Would you have a look for me, if that's all right? I know it sounds... "

You turned your attention away from the conversation before you. The room felt different, suffocating, and electric. The lights dimmed just barely, and you swore you could feel the slightest breeze. The hair on the back of your neck stood up.

You were being watched. And what was watching was not happy.

You reached for Steven, wrapping your hands around his arm. He glanced at you, confused.

"Thanks so much! You've been really helpful!" You grabbed the keys from the man at the desk. Then quickly dragged a confused Steven down the hall, towards the lockers.

"W-what was that about?" He tilted his head to look at you, "Are you- is everything okay?"

"Yeah, should be." The lack of confidence in your voice was clear as you released your hold on him.

"T-That's not- that's not very reassuring." You really didn't want to worry him more. He was going through enough as it was and you hated to make him even more panicked.

"We may... want to hurry things up a bit. Your 'pigeon' is.. well he's not happy." You found that troubling. It only seemed to appear like this, at least so far, when Steven was looking into Marc. It was trying to keep whatever link they shared buried.

"Y-you mean- it's here now?" He began to look around, definitely worried now.

"No. Not yet but he may decide to pop up." You looked at him and squeezed his hand in an attempt to comfort him. "It'll be okay."

He nodded, and let out a shaky breath. You both scanned the lockers walking down the long hall until Steven stopped.

"Oh, my God. Marc Spector." He let out a sigh, "It's real. It's totally real."

He looked at you and you offered him a supportive smile as he opened the locker. It was surprisingly scarce. It only seemed to really hold a cot, a few boxes, and a duffel bag. Definitely a bit weird. You followed him inside and he began to look around. You weren't quite sure what to do now, so you stayed by the entrance. You wanted to be helpful somehow so you concentrated on the bird-man. You could still feel the entity. It was there... just not completely. And it was definitely keeping an eye on things.

Waiting. But for what?'

"Marc." You looked back to Steven, who had turned towards the wall. "There he is. Here he comes. Hello, man in the mirror. I was wondering if you'd pop up again." He said a bit exasperated.

You blinked and Steven paused, before responding to the wall. This was a bit awkward.

"More complicated? What? Am I possessed? Are you, like, a demon? Or..."

"You're not possessed, Steven. Whatever, whoever, you are talking to is not a demon. I would have known." You interrupted. Steven paused for a moment, glancing at you, the wall, and back at you. You didn't mean to interrupt him from whatever conversation he was having. You were afraid you had said something wrong by the silence that followed. "Sorry. I didn't-"

"He says I shouldn't have brought you..." he glanced at the wall again.

You stopped.

"What? Why?"

"Marc said that I'm putting you in danger." He looked at you with a remorseful expression.

You blinked. Danger or not you cared about him. Steven was your friend, and whatever he was going through, at the very least didn't have to go through it alone. The fact that this Marc was trying to get you to leave unsettled you. Both he and the bird-man wanted their connection to Steven to stay buried.

"Look, Steven, as long as you want me to be here I'll stay. Regardless of the bird, or Marc, I don't plan to leave anytime soon because of them." You caught a brief glimmer of relief in Steven's eyes before he turned back to the wall, continuing his conversation.

"Sleep... I'm never gonna go to sleep again. You hear me? Look, I don't care how bloody handsome you are. Tell me what it is you are. What are you?" He paused again for an inaudible response.

"Khonshu? The Egyptian god of the moon? Oh, my God, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. I eat one piece of steak, and then, bam, I go bonkers."

What on earth did an ancient Egyptian deity have to do with any of this? You wondered.

A slight breeze caught your attention as it ruffled your hair. You couldn't help but think of the entity. It felt older than anything you had encountered before, ancient. It felt more powerful than most spirits. And it looked suspiciously mummy-like. But that certainly didn't make it an Egyptian god. You shook your head, discarding that thought, and turned back to Steven.

Steven paused, "Oh, God. I'm having a panic attack. I need to go to a hospital." You began to reach for him, hoping to help in some way.

"You want my body? Right, yeah. Marc, how about this for a deal? I'm gonna take this bag full of illegal shit, yeah?" He grabbed the bag," and I'm gonna go straight to the authorities."

The lights blinked and you began to feel the presence solidify. It really wasn't happy now. "Steven- "

"And they're gonna put me away so I don't hurt anyone else."

"Steven."

"And hopefully, NHS will fill me with enough pills so that you get out of my head!" Steven took your hand, this time leading you through the hall.

"Steven!" He finally stopped and looked at you. "It's back."

Right on cue, the light at the end of the hall flickered once, two times. The entity stood, lit by the sickly yellow light before vanishing into the darkness.

Steven's hands flew to the bag and he began to walk backward slowly. The lights began to flicker faster, now moving down the hall towards you both.

Click...

You stepped back, following Steven as you kept your eyes locked on the end of the hall.

Clickclickclick.

Suddenly all you could see were bandages, rags, bone, and hollow eyes.

It stood before you, tall, menacing, and angry.

You ran.

Lights flickered.

Doors rattled.

You desperately chased after Steven, turn after turn. You could feel the annoyance, irritation, and anger rolling off the entity. You couldn't leave Steven. You couldn't let it hurt him. As you rounded a corner you saw Steven. He had stopped. You knew why. He trembled as he looked up at the entity before him. You suddenly felt annoyed. It felt slightly amused, almost entertained by his fear. And this, this pissed you off. It was terrorizing Steven at this point. It turned its head, haloed by the pale light, and for the first time you heard it speak:

"Give it back, you fool."

For a millisecond you glared at it, and the entity looked back at you. Before you could attempt to confront it you were pulled down the hallway and out of the building by a screaming Steven.

Daylight suddenly flooded your senses. You blinked a few times as your eyes adjusted. You glanced down to see Steven curled up on the ground, the bag held securely in his arms.

"Marc? Where have you been?" You looked up at the source of the voice. A woman sat on a black scooter, inches from Steven. Her curly hair almost seemed to glow in the sunlight, framing her freckled face.

"Layla?" Steven looked up at her, surprise and confusion evident in his voice.

She reached out a hand to Steven and helped him up. "Who are you?" She tilted her head, her dark eyes narrowed at you.

You nervously gave her your name with a small smile. "I-I'm a friend of Steven's."

She nodded before turning back to Steven. "Okay...We need to talk."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The three of you met back up at Steven's flat. You were surprised that Steven still wanted you to stay. Layla seemed to have answers for him. You didn't know where you stood with Layla, especially finding out she was married to Marc, who may or may not also be Steven. She quite understandably regarded you with some suspicion of your relationship with him. You didn't want to make Layla upset with you, but Steven had asked you to stay and you couldn't bring yourself to tell him no.

You felt awkward, and out of the loop, so you focused on your surroundings. It was similar to your flat, with the same bathroom tile, and the large kitchen window, but it had the details that made it very much Steven's. A large map of Egypt hung by the door, framed by postcards, displaying various landmarks. You couldn't ignore the large fish tank and of course, the single goldfish that swam in it. Not-Gus, you remembered. Steven had told you about him several times, how he picked him out because of his one fin. It made him special. You couldn't help but notice the chosen tank decor. Your eyes then drifted to the large bookshelves. You knew Steven was a bit of a bookworm, you had that in common, but you were surprised to find his flat was bordering on being considered a small library. It was certainly impressive, and the trinkets scattered about it drew your eye.

They exchanged a brief conversation about poetry in French. You glanced at the large desk by the window, books in piles on the top. You smiled to yourself as you noticed the desk under it had the pyramid paperweight you got him. One book lay open, but you were unable to make out the subject. They briefly discussed, hieroglyphics, and you couldn't help but see how excited it made Steven. Layla then took out divorce papers and you felt like you really shouldn't be there. You couldn't help but notice the glimmer of disappointment in Layla's eyes as she presented them to Steven. You turned your gaze away and looked to the ground.

You looked up as Steven began to open the duffel bag. He froze suddenly, seeming to double-guess himself.

"I-it's nothing." Steven muttered as he grabbed the bag tighter.

"Nothing?" Layla asked, before shoving him aside. You furrowed your brows at this and glanced at Steven. He didn't look at you, instead, kept his eyes locked on the bag as Layla went through it. You turned your attention to the bag, wondering what about it was so important.

Holy shit!

Was that a gun?

Layla took a scarab out of the bag, opening a whole other can of worms, and feelings between them. Mainly more confusion on Steven's part. You weren't sure what to do or even think at this point, how to make sense of any of this. Honestly, you weren't quite sure what was happening anymore.

"Take it. Take it. I don't want it. I swear." Steven attempted to offer her the scarab, causing her to pause. "Have it. I am not Marc Spector. I'm Steven Grant. I work at a gift shop. I used to work at a gift shop. And I-I'm in real danger and I think you might be the only person who can help me."

She opened her mouth, preparing to respond.

"Please." He begged.

"You really don't remember why we've been looking for this?" She gently shook the scarab, " Our adventures? Or our life together?"

"Oh god I wish I could."

This whole situation was becoming more complicated by the second, so the knocking at the door was very much not welcomed by you.

"Steven Grant, can we have a word?" A muffled voice asked behind the door.

"Oh, God, they've come for me." Steven said, his eyes wide.

"Why?" Layla furrowed her brows.

"I vandalized the toilet." Layla looked at you for an explanation. You just shook your head and sighed. Best to leave it for another time.

The knocking continued.

"Yeah, just a minute." Steven scurried over to the door.

"Steven Grant?" A voice asked.

"Yeah?"

"DC Fitzgerald and DC Kennedy here."

Your attention was drawn from the door by Layla gently taking your wrist. She put a finger to her lips before she steered you to the large window and quietly opened it. She dropped your wrist before climbing up onto the window still.

What was she doing?

You furrowed your brows, and she motioned you to follow her. You glanced back at Steven, who was still by the door, before turning back to her. Seeing the seriousness in her eyes you did, albeit hesitantly. You maneuvered behind her on the roof, back to the wall.

Gods. Oh gods. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Don’t look down.

Layla checked on you, making sure you could stay steady before listening to the conversation inside. You couldn't make out much from your position, you were a bit preoccupied with not having a panic attack on the roof. There was something about... police...a fake passport? You hoped Steven was okay, really wishing that this could just be a big misunderstanding.

After what felt like forever, Layla turned to you after checking the window. "They took him."

"What! Did you hear where?"

"No. But if we hurry we can follow the car." You blinked, surprised at her inclusion of you. What could you do to help any of this? So far you've just been there for emotional support, but things are complicated now. Steven needed more help or support than you could offer. She held her hand out to help you back inside. You took it and hopped inside the flat before following her down several flights of stairs. Once outside, she got on her scooter and turned to you.

"You care about him right?" She asked.

She already knew the answer.

But you did.

You really did.

"Yeah, I do. Of course, I do." You said softly, nodding.

"Okay. Get on."

She gestured for you to sit behind her. You straddled the seat, your hands hovering awkwardly.

Would it be too awkward to hold onto her waist? What if she didn't want you to? You just met for the first time less than an hour ago, and are basically strangers. But that's what you were supposed to do on these things. Right?

You took a breath to stop yourself from overthinking, you had bigger things to worry about. Hesitantly, you placed your arms around her waist, leaning close to her. You almost swore you glimpsed her smirk at that as she started the scooter, causing you to tighten your hold on her.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Well. This was definitely not what you expected the cult of Ammit to look like. You thought it would be more...cult-like. Weird human murder rituals, maybe some chanting in ancient Egyptian around a fire, and more focus on the devouring of hearts bit. Instead, there were community gardens, kitchens, and...indoor movie nights.

You turned to Layla from your hidden corner, both of you sharing a puzzled look as you took in the view. You scanned the crowd, attempting to find Steven. It took you a moment before you noticed him sitting at the table with another man. Harrow, you remembered Steven telling you. You couldn't make out much of the conversation. Movement caught your attention from the corner of your eye. In front of you, Layla was beginning to creep forward, towards the kitchen area, scarab clenched tightly in her hand.

"Can you fight?" She turned back to you for a moment.

"Uh, yeah, a bit. Just enough to defend myself." There were at least fifty people in the room. How on earth was she going to grab Steven and get out by the two of you throwing a few punches?

"Okay." She nodded, "Good. We're going to have to try to make a run for it. Let's get Marc and get out."

You nodded, sucking in a breath as she lead you to the front of the doorway.

"Where is the scarab." You heard a voice demand.

"I have it." Layla announced, her voice echoing in the large room. She stepped forward, glancing around the room.

"Let me have it. I'll keep it safe." Harrow said, eyes locked on the golden beetle.

"There is no deal in this, Marc. Fix this. Fix this!" The bird-man was back suddenly, standing behind Steven. You peered around the entity, offering a small smile to Steven as you and Layla stopped next to him.

"Summon the Suit." Layla told Steven.

"S-sorry what?"

"Summon the suit." She looked at him confused, he didn't know what she meant.

"Summon the soup? What are you saying-"

"The suit. And keep this safe." She handed him the scarab.

"So be it." Harrow announced.

"Let's go! Let's Go!" She grabbed both you and Steven and began to drag you along.

A few people began to make their way toward you. You took a breath and clenched your fists. As the group got too close the three of you shoved them off, before breaking into a sprint. You and Steven took off after Layla up the metal stairs, footsteps thundering. You heard a thump and a sound like shattering glass, coming from the lower floor.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

Oh no.

You suddenly, and quite conveniently remembered that Steven mentioned Harrow had the ability to summon things.

"Steven!" Layla shouted. You lost sight of her as she found the corner, replaced with a man blocking the path forward. You both stopped. The chaos beginning to unfold was beginning to feel overwhelming. You risked a glance back, a group of people were making their way up the stairs. The two of you were trapped. Unsure of where to go next, you hesitated, debating whether to attempt to swing at him or face the group behind you. Steven took this chance to grab your hand and pull you past the man and up another stairway, just in time to see Layla throw someone over the railing.

"That was awesome." Steven complimented her. You nodded quickly in agreement, before sprinting after them. Maybe later you could ask Steven if you could take his wife out sometime.

As you panted, your feeling of unease returned, stronger this time. Whatever Harrow had summoned was not too far behind you. You made it through a pair of wooden doors, Steven and Layla locking them behind you.

You took a gasp of air, and looked at Steven, "Jackal."

"Oh my god," Steven muttered. "I'm going to die in an evil magician's man cave."

Layla rushed over to him. The doors began to rattle. If this was the same thing that Steven had encountered before behind a metal door, there was no way you'd stand a chance.

"No. No. Hey. Listen to me. Your name is Marc. You have a suit, I've seen you use it. You bring it out. " Steven shook his head, getting more panicked by the second

You turned your attention to the door, the rattling getting faster.

Shit.

Normal ghosts couldn't hurt you. Normal ghosts couldn't kill you. But this wasn't a ghost, or a spirit, or anything you were familiar with. You glanced around for something to use as a potential weapon.

Sarcophagi, more sarcophagi.

Chair!

You picked up the small chair. It was already well on its way to crumbling, you'd just have to help it along. You tossed it as hard as you could. The leg cracked off, thankfully just enough to serve as a short rod. You picked it up and tightened your grip around it. The rattling became louder, and faster.

"Hey, guys!" You looked at them, Steven and Layla crouched on the ground. "We don't have much longer."

Layla glanced at you, and looked around the room, in an effort to locate an exit.

"Let's go." She hopped up a ladder. You were about to follow her when the doors were flung open. The jackal let out a cry and began to run toward you and Steven. He started to back away, and you prepared to swing.

One...

Two...

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the final swing.

Three-

You were thrown aside as the jackal shoved past you. You landed on your side, the wooden leg clattering against the floor.

Ow.

What ensued next happened in a blur.

You briefly registered that the jackal charged into Steven, just in time to see them both tumble out the window.

You glanced at Layla, in shock before scurrying to stand. You clutched the rod before making it down the fire escape. You begin to search the unfamiliar setting looking for Steven. You felt on edge, and ready to jump into fight or flight mode, so when you heard the splintering of wood it nearly caused you to jump out of your skin. You turned to see a white blur get thrown through a wooden gate.

The man in a completely white suit with a mask, topped with a crescent moon and glowing eyes, then immediately proceeded to rip a bumper off a car.

"Y-you look different." Layla commented. So this must be a similar suit to the one she referenced earlier.

"Steven! Look out!" As much as you'd love to comment on this surprising wardrobe change, you were busy watching as the jackal stalked up behind him.

It slammed him against a car. Layla tried to walk toward him but you grabbed her arm. She looked at you.

"Don't. It's right there."

"No! Don't try and come near me!" Steven warned as he was thrown against the car again. The jackal turned to her, letting out a deep growl and baring its teeth.

You tried to pull her away but the jackal swiped at her before you could, throwing her onto the ground, and pulling you along with her. The fall happened too quickly for you to brace yourself, and your head hit the ground. You brought a hand to the spot and hissed. You turned around when you heard glass shatter.

Layla stood by the jackal, shards of broken glass revealing it. It roared, before proceeding to take them both by the neck. You stood and felt for the rod. It was gone. You frantically looked for something you could use. Your eyes caught a glint, and you turned to see a decent-sized shard of glass. You clutched it, before making your way behind the jackal, keeping your steps quiet. It sneered at Steven as he fought against its grip, Layla attempting to do the same. You took a breath and shoved the shard into its lower back. It howled. Then it tossed them aside, before turning towards you, snarling. and doing the same. You hit the damp stone ground again and groaned.

Your attacks were barely doing anything to the creature. Without an actual weapon or a way to escape the three of you didn't stand a chance.

Your attention was caught by a scream.

Layla.

You glanced around. Finally located the wooden leg off to the side. As you clutched it, you noted the crack beginning to form. You looked back to Layla, the jackal held her by her leg. Steven charged towards it only to be knocked aside. You prepared to run towards the jackal. Only to stop, when you heard Steven shout.

"Yeah. I see you-you pug-ugly coyote. You're on the wrong ends, mate. You're in my yard now." He threw his jacket on the ground and rolled his sleeves. He had entirely too much confidence for someone who just got tossed around like a rag-doll. You looked at Layla, your confusion mirrored on her face.

"Float like a butterfly. Sting like a bee. My name's Steven with a 'V'!" He hit it square in the face, before exclaiming excitedly. He called to you and Layla, "Did you see that!" Right before being kicked into the street, repeatedly slammed against a bus, and falling to the ground, face first.

Ouch. You cringed.

You took a step towards him, preparing to make sure he was okay. Layla grabbed your arm and nodded towards the street. You looked back to Steven watching as he stood. His suit... changed. Strands of linen wrapped around him, ending with a hood and cape. He turned to face the two of you, eyes still glowing. You blinked, taking in the new situation. You couldn't help but notice this was the second appearance of the crescent moon on the costume. Weird.

"Get it out of here!" Layla shouted.

Steven hopped on top of a van, before climbing up a nearby building, the jackal pursuing him. A second later, he disappeared onto the roof.

Layla turned to you a few moments later. "Come on. I'll drive you home. We should probably should check that cut out. It doesn't look too good." You were a bit surprised at how calm she sounded. The three of you had just faced a dangerous entity summoned by the power of an ancient goddess. You shook lightly.

"Cut?" You asked.

Almost as if an answer, you felt a drop of warm liquid run down the side of your face. You felt it and brought your finger back to find it stained red. The adrenaline began to wear off, and you noted pounding on the side of your head.

"O-oh." You followed her, trailing behind a bit, processing what happened. "But what about Steven? The jackal?"

"He's got the suit now. He'll be okay, this isn't the first time he's done stuff like this." You nodded. The two of you turned the corner and met with the scooter. You climbed on.

The sound of shuffling behind you caught both of your attention. You turned to see a man hand a golden, and suspiciously scarab-shaped object to Harrow. He took the man's hand. You saw him convulse briefly, before dropping to the ground.

Dead.

What shocked you besides the murder that only occurred a few yards from you, was that this man's soul leave didn't leave the way you were used to. You felt a hunger from Harrow. And you had a distinct feeling that the soul had been...eaten. Consumed? But not by him. Through him. That was the only way you could attempt to explain it. Just as Harrow began to turn towards you, Layla sped off, leaving you to wonder what you had just witnessed.

Ao3 Wattpad Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

#steven grant x gender neutral reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant fic #moon knight x reader #moon knight fic #moon knight fanfic #moon boys #marc spector #jake lockley #layla el faouly #khonshu x reader #ao3 #fanfic #marvel #m #TippingTheScales #TTS

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cryptidclaw · 2 years

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Barleycloud (aka. Barley)! he big and fluffy :)

I gave him a little nose ring bec I think it fits, also I love giving farm cats bangs that cover their eyes idk why LOL.

I was going to have his bandana be the gay man flag, but it was too many colors, I still used two colors from the flag tho!

...

Barleycloud

Gay; cis male; he/him

Age as of 1st arc's end: 2 cycles, 9 moons; ~27 Human years

Title meaning: -cloud = a soft, sweet and kind hearted cat

First Healer of Blood Order; he always had an interest in healing and herbs, and his mother taught him all she knew while Barley grew up on the farm.

Mother: Chili

Father: Bandit

Siblings: Bonehunter, Iceshard, Snakebite, Violetdream

Mate: Star Ravenscourge

Kits (donor: Violetdream): Cowstep, Lambcry, Ryewhisper

Other notable kin: Macgyver (uncle)

Extra notes: Barley doesn't have too strong of a connection to the Stars, he's a healer purely for the healing aspect, he leaves the spiritual stuff to Echosong. Barley is the absolute best at growing herbs though, and spends much of his time caring for his little garden.

[Image ID: a digital drawing of Barleycloud, an au version of Barley from warrior cats. He is standing with his left side showing and his left leg raised, he is smiling with his mouth slightly open like he is saying something. He is a big fluffy black and white tom with fluffy bangs that cover his eyes. He is mostly white with a large black patch on his back and covering the top of his head and cheeks. He has a fluffy stubby tail, and is wearing a dark and light blue bandana, as well as a gold nose ring , and blue flowers and green leaves in his pelt. His nose and mouth are light pink, and his inner ears are dark black./End ID]

#cryptidclaw's warriors au #rise of change #warrior cats #warrior cats design #warriors #barley #barley warriors #barley design #barleycloud #bloodclan #blood order

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imaginesofeverykind · 5 months

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Witches Brew ~ Chapter 3

Summary: To practice magic is to slight God with the devil's embrace. It is evil, sin, consuming and the price one pays is never worth what one seeks. Yet people, in times of desperation often turn to desperate measures, in Aegon’s case, medicinal remedy is not an option. No healer can undo what has been done. But the Hag tucked away behind reeds, water topped with algae and the voracious bog may be able to. For a price.

Warnings: GORE, graphic descriptions oh bodily harm and maiming, magic described as visceral, catholic-centric monotheism demonised, 18+ minors DNI

Tags: DnD Homebrew Fusion AU, Targaryens are noblefolk, Aegon is a werewolf

Word Count: 4.6k

Chapter Song: Quagmire - Satin Puppets

Series Masterlist

Thayhelm passes almost as quickly as Melthare, the two seasonal holidays sneaking out from nowhere like an unseen strike where once you would be on top of the yearly festivals. Perhaps if Auntie had been around, she would have had a better sense of the time around her and urged you to join her in celebration of the spiritually sound holidays. You still celebrated, only barely recognizing the Autumn Equinox on account of the spiritual vestiges that roamed around the swamp in search for nothing you could provide.

As a child Thayhelm was your favourite holiday, the spirits in the swamp came from many and took on shapes that weren’t of the prime material realm. It was as close to Fey as you could imagine without falling victim and becoming a lost and trapped soul within the cursed labyrinth of the Feywilds. The spirits often flocked to the Elder Tree, its beacon of energy attracting those roaming near like moths to candle fire.

Dead Winter Day was fastly approaching and you’ve made a point to remember to travel out to the shrine of Ornmir and celebrate. The first Midwinter you will be alone, no Auntie to help guide you through the hymns of winter and the offering you’d need to prepare. It wasn’t as though you felt incompetent, you - like the spirits that roam during Thayhelm - felt lost.

And yet, you found yourself feeling the opposite when the moon became full and Aegon would arrive on your horribly deteriorating porch — what would Auntie think? Firstly, she would go on an admonishing rant about the state of the hut which had only worsened since her departure. What once lay a stately cottage, now groaned with wood rot and crackled from the termite infestation. ‘Look after your belongings’ You can hear her reprimand in the shrill voice of your mind, as though any of the hut felt like it belonged to you.

Secondly, she would lecture you on your attachment that had grown toward Aegon over the months since meeting him, warning that things like this may be highly sought after but they were only a means to distract oneself from embracing full potential. ‘Magic makes us whole, not the inevitable absence of others’ She had once said, cryptic as Auntie was known to be, you could easily decipher that it was a warning to sway far from the whims of earthly attachments.

You reluctantly and silently agreed, magic is what made you who you are. A man who barely crossed your path months ago was not something to become attached to. But, the thought flew through your mind like a sin, a flash of wickedness and betraying the memory of Auntie — she was no longer here, it wouldn’t hurt to humour the feelings of warmth or fullness that came whenever Aegon was around..

And that is where your mind lingered, on harmless guilty pleasure. Trivial, menial things like brewing a different potion to help him sleep better after a grueling transformation under the moon or to be more mindful of cooking meals that were less of the slop that mirrored the marshy quagmires but more familiar to him. For comfort, you told yourself when the creeping feeling of embarrassment washed over as though it was foolish for thinking like this.

A knock at the door pulled you from spiraling further into the paralysis you found yourself in more frequently. A slight hiccup bloomed in your gut and heart, who could it be? A face flashed in your mind and it became clear who you wished it might be but the footsteps and the knock weren’t familiar to your ears. And the full moon had only passed a mere week ago.

Appearing, from thin air, as you so often did behind the guest on the porch and it was quite the surprise. The broad and tall Holy Knight was almost unrecognizable, but that wasn’t the cause for the feelings of unease and trouble brewing within you. His holy sigil branded on the tunic beneath his shining armour and imprinted on the cloak that swayed softly in the breeze.

“Squire boy,” you muse, teasingly. The nickname you recall Auntie used when he had visited a decade prior, he was a young man then, though now he had grown more into his features and looked regal in the armour he donned.

He turned to regard you, a steely look in his eyes and it occurred that there was no longer the boyish charm he once had when he first visited. Time had been kind to his features but not to his mind, it seemed. Repugnant religious interference had snuffed out what gratitude and reverence he had prior as he looked down on you with the same look of contempt you get from the villagers whenever you descend into the towns.

“Hag,” he sneers, it was clear he was not here for niceties anymore. Once a young man, now a Holy Knight. “Where is your elder?” His dark eyes watch you carefully meander around him, as if waiting for a chance to strike you down or even an excuse to do so.

Gods, you restrain yourself from rolling your eyes, he’s become boring.

“Gone,” shrugging lazily, you look at his greatsword, far too big to be sheathed. The pommel molded with the same sigil as his cloak and tunic. “Has the church decided to retroactively smite her for helping your master all those years ago?” You taunt, thinking that his arrival was odd enough without his dreadful aura bringing a damper to your day.

He ignores your jape, completely, eyes scanning for any signs of life in the hut. “Gone is she? Gone where?” He accuses, as if you were hiding her away or simply being dishonest about her whereabouts.

“Somewhere,” you shrug, “but not here.”

“Hm,” his jaw tightens, reaching across his body to a concealed pouch and presenting a small wicker doll. “This be your handy work then, witch?” It was made with care for the craft, no amateur could bind the twigs together with an astute precision like this but it was definitely not of your own creation. The weave pattern was unfamiliar, different than what you’d seen before. Not even Auntie’s technique looked like this.

“Afraid not dear Squire,” not even the runestone tied to the chest on the doll looked familiar. It wasn’t troubling to you however, many travelers come and go and it wasn’t the first time a witch or wizard passed through and left signs of their presence.

“You may call me Ser Criston – and how is it that Lord Visery’s suddenly falls ill, no recovery in sight and one of our lord priests finds this?” He presses, clearly trying to milk some confession from you but your resolve remains unchanged. It was benign if anything, a wicker doll could mean anything from good tidings to something as malevolent as blood magic – which you were versed in but this was not your doing.

Plainly it very well might be a targeted attack on the Lord of Oldtown, but the possibility of it meaning good health was higher.

Your shoulders rose and fell in another lazy shrug. To be perfectly honest, it seemed on par for the zealots to make something out of nothing to this degree for the purpose of fear mongering. They denounce magic as devil work and try to ignore its existence but the moment it seems targeted they are suddenly believers.

“Clearly I am an innocent, though I can sense how badly you wish to have me burnt in the city square. No evidence means no charge, even a religious fanatic as yourself can honour law. Or has your false God decided he is above law?”

He reached forward, in an attempt to grip the hem of your cloak. But as his fingertips grazed the top of your collar bone, you had disappeared in a puff of mist, materializing behind him with a grin, tisking his behaviour. “My my, your temper has risen Squire boy. Run along back to your iron castle and false god empty handed… The Witch of the Swamp has no answers for you here.”

“You may be proven guilty yet,” he spun around to face you, upper lip curled in a nasty sneer, “tell me this then – what bewitchment have you put on the Lord’s son Aegon? I was aware of his lustful escapades to the whorehouses and taverns yet he returns to the swamp. What vile deceit do you poison him with?”

Hah, you snort, face contorting into a grimace, “and you care oh so much about the little lordling? Feigning concern does not exempt you or the people for what lay in truth; He was a sinner long before he found me in the eyes of you zealots. But it is ever convenient to have a reason to blame for his frivolities, is it not?”

He nods, a faint smirk on his lips that waned into a contemptuous smile with nostrils flared, “count your days little hag, once the church finds you guilty of maleficium and magical interference you will burn in the square.” His broad torso had begun twisting as he made his descent down the rickety steps of the porch.

“If,” you say aloud, causing him to turn back, a smug smile spreads across your face that twists into a sinister snarl, “get out of my swamp.”

A threat he happily obliged.

***

The winter winds that cast down from the nearby mountainous ranges brought a merciless bite, winter had come with a vengeance and it had only been steadily getting worse. You had yet to see Aegon since the incident of the Holy Knight, Criston, who had darkened the doorstep of the hut and brought with him empty threats under the guise of religious intervention. Perhaps in the beginning, your intention with Aegon had been merely a spiteful jab at the Lord of the land and his family. Even then, your intention was to never cause death even if it would be incredibly easy to do so.

So the Lord Visery’s fell ill? That couldn’t be helped. It was in the hands of fate now whether the man lived or died. All you did was take a mere part of him, the fault should not befall you if his own wounds weren’t tended to properly because the healers were inept.

The harmonious bleating of a distant Nymphernal carries you from your thoughts, a soft reminder that while the creatures of the Swamp were friendly, you were out alone and trudging barefoot through thick marshy glades of still water. It was not quite Dead Winter Day, the midmark of winter and yet you felt a pull to the shrine of Ornmir to pay respects and present an offering. It would be the first time you would venture alone to this area of the Swamp, no longer under the guidance of Auntie who had long disappeared.

To where? That was unclear. One morning you awoke and she had simply gone.

Perhaps on another worldly pilgrimage, or perhaps to take her own life. The only indication you had ever known that this may happen is when she instructed you to not miss her if she were to ever leave. But you did.

Hidden behind the thick shield of clouds, the sun sat at her highest though her warmth nigh be felt from down below where you silently yearned for it. Though you trudged triumphantly, mud and clag squishing up between your toes and sticking to the bottom of your dress where the rips and tethers sat. The hunting song of the Stymphalian echoes through the treetops, no doubt as it prepares to descend on its prey, you were just a girl when nursing the small bird back to health, now you could only imagine the monstrous size it got to.

A local superstition cited, to hear the hunting song of the Stymphalian was a bad omen, and despite never feeding into the poppycock drivel of townsfolk, there must have been some merit to this superstition. The overgrown path that many years ago was used as a trade route between two of the smaller towns now lay abandoned and its only purpose served as the spiritual shrine of Ornmir.

Only the shrine had been destroyed. By what or who was unknown.

Perhaps the townsfolk are right, the only thought you had upon setting eyes on the blighted site. But now, it seemed, you finally had an answer for why Ornmir had grown aggressive. Only a person with intent can wrought this much destruction on a stone and wood shrine, but that hardly narrowed down the culprit.

That afternoon you spent silently restoring the shrine back to its original form, proving to be more difficult than initially thought but your resolve strengthened despite it. Blood Magic came easy. Green Magic, even easier. Mending spiritual monuments to appease a now wrathful spirit? Harder than one would think.

When you finished and bowed your head, the sun began waning and with it; her light. With darkness approaching it was wise for you to return to the hut, yet your feet carried you elsewhere. An unseen feeling tugging at you in the form of soft incomprehensible whispers. You weren’t being bewitched that was clear, you could still control yourself but the feeling was one that couldn’t be shaken.

In the distance, another hunting call from the Stymphalian cawed tauntingly.

Urgently, you walk through the swamp, a feeling of light distress that felt foreign as though it weren’t your own. The thrumming drone of the tree drowned out your own heartbeat and singled in on an anomaly, as you drew near it became clearer what– who the anomaly was.

“Aegon?” You whisper softly, a hand bracing the trunk of a tree as your eyes cast downward on the man in a curled up position. Hardly recognisable and it wasn’t on account of the muck that covered him from head to toe or his ripped clothes. His torso was grotesquely hunched, spine malformed and breaching through the skin similarly to his limbs that disproportionately elongated, causing the skin to tear.

His eyes, though, remain the same as they look up at you, beading with tears. You drop to your knees and understand immediately what’s happened, and partially blame yourself for not warning him that this would happen some way or another. This soon though? Was what caught you off guard.

You place a gentle hand on his arm, “this will be greatly uncomfortable, I apologise.” A string of words fall from your lips in a hiss that echoed in a whirlwind, coming from every angle and direction that encased the both of you until shrouded and the surroundings melt from the deep swamp. He cries out in pain but the strain on his vocal chords doubled over each other creating a monstrous yawp that sounded anything but human.

The swamp seemingly disintegrates from the power of your unwavering muttering, a black void filling its place for a brief time before the inside of your hut melts into the view. Your head spins for a short second, a stabbing pain following in your chest but that did not concern you nearly as much as Aegon.

“What is happening to me?” He bleats, voice strained through his gritted teeth which were more jagged and fiendish than human. His body trembled incessantly though he tried to suppress it by hugging himself, looking to you for an answer. It almost felt cruel to tell him, on top of monthly transformations and mood swings, that there was yet another caveat for this curse.

“Let me help first, I’ll take away your pain.” You promise quietly, rushing over to the cabinet collecting jars of phoenix ashes, slime mucus, hydra scales. All of them became a blur as you quickly swiped them into your arms and collected the mortar and pestle. “This… this is highly unusual to occur so early.” You murmur quietly, shakily pouring ingredients into the mortar.

He groans aggressively, chest rising and falling with each of his staggered breaths as if he were urging you to hurry up. You unclasp the obsidian dagger attached to your belt and another set of ornate tools, similar to that of pliers and look on the writhing man with sorrow, “my apologies for this, it will help I promise.” With a gentle touch you hold his hand and stretch his malformed fingers, black claws poke out of the ends where his nails would otherwise be.

Your lower lip is sucked between your teeth in a deep concentration when you settle the pliers on one claw. “What are you–” he barely pants out when you rip the nail from his finger with a brutal force, he screams out in agony and the immediate response is for him to retaliate but he can only writhe further in pain. Bones cracking harder, bellows becoming breathier.

Adding the nail to the paste marked that it was nearing ready for consumption. You had only ever seen this type of healing solution made once, and the very process of it left a scar embedded into the recess of your memory. Sparing Aegon a glance, you look at him cautiously, “I advise you to look away, this is unsightly but necessary.”

Though you do not keep a gaze on him to confirm if he watches on or not, bringing the obsidian blade to your throat and in a swift motion, slit through your throat and lean forward over the paste. The gurgling sounds made the process appear far more worse than it was, as you recall Auntie doing something similar when tasked with healing a Holy Knight who visited after losing his fighting arm in battle while you were tasked with distracting the young Squire accompanying him. Needless to say, you were unsuccessful. Auntie’s gurgled grunts and waterfall of blood forever etched into your mind, a reminder that the magic you do was part of you.

Once the mortar is filled, thick with the crimson viscous of your own blood, you place a hand over the self-inflicted wound and mutter to yourself, still gurgling through the iron tang sitting in your mouth. A witches body could handle damage tenfold so long as it were for ritual, protection or magic, as it was a vessel for said magic, every aspect of it. Torso drenched and sticky now remain the only indicator of the injury placed on yourself, not even a scar remained in its place.

Finally, mixing everything together, you smear the repugnant salve on the back of a dreamlily leaf and bring it to his lips. Though you could not blame his apprehension after witnessing the obscene display before him for not wanting to ingest the mixture you held. “Trust me, it will help.”

He was fearful, ever so slightly and his nod was almost so non-existent you nearly missed it. With a gentle hand, you begin to slowly feed it through his lips. Your other hand, despite besmirched with blood, ran softly through his once pristine silver hair to help soothe him, just as Auntie often would to help lull you after night terrors or when you fell ill. It was unusually maternal of her but it was the only way to get you to settle.

There was rescinding silence as his groans of pain ceased, one could almost mistake it as if he had passed away, but his tearful eyes with blood vessels burst highlighting the violet within them were open and looking around the hut. Physically he may be present and well, but mentally and spiritually the paste had sent him elsewhere, to a realm of existence that exceeded physical barriers like pain. The husk of his body remained, vulnerable to anything including yourself which is why you set off around the hut to cast protective wards, sparing him several glances as you did so.

***

A vast void thrumming with echoes of magic assaulted your senses. It was jarring. Everywhere you looked there was nothing. Inside the centre of a dying star. Within the core of the prime realm. Imbedded inside the darkest pit of the underdark. Neither of those were quite right, no, the airy feeling as though you were made from gas indicated otherwise. Dreamlike as the sensation was, it was anything but. You were trapped deep within your mind, a hidden pocket dimension tucked away and concealed by magic that was not your own.

“Auntie?” Your voice carried on, repeating for what seemed like leagues ahead of where you stood into the bottomless and endless void. The sound of magic rippled and cracked, like vines being snapped, the volume of it causing you to cringe and cover your ears. Is this what being consumed by magic felt like? At its very core, is this where your magic lie within?

Though no answer to your thoughts or calls. Just you and the Void. It was surreal, a surge of fear shot through you like a jolt of electricity. Am I stuck like this? The sensation, the oppression of it all felt overwhelming. Am I dead? You begin to think and wonder if during your slumber Aegon or someone else ended your life—

“Bramble.”

The softest whisper, distorted through the shadowy abyss. Though it bounced all around and was difficult to pinpoint the direction of its origin. Left? Right? Up? Down? Perhaps there was one God after all, and this was the eternal punishment for blasphemy and devil craft.

”Bramble.”

Much clearer was the voice now, to the right, you affirm and feel yourself move though you do not appear to walk, merely you just are heading right. And though the void felt all encompassing all at once, there was loneliness stowing away within — the voice was not an indication that someone was close.

”Bramble.”

It was right behind you now, like a vacuum of space and time that pulled and ripped you from the chasm of oblivion. Blinding light searing deep into your eyes along with the acrid smell of familiarity binding you to the prime realm once again. Eyes of an angel come to vision, a battle beaten face of someone who must be of celestial ancestry but the unmistakable violet colour of the eyes say otherwise.

The voice pulling you from limbo belonging to the very creature before you. No longer the monstrous amalgamation of man and beast, but a light at the end of a cavern, ascending you from the deepest crevasse within your mind. His very being a beacon of hope coiled within the remnants of a broken man, and you begin to think for the first time that fate has intertwined the two of you somehow for this feeling to be so pure.

His face is close, commanding your field of view but even without him doing so you could tell very clearly that the void was no more and you had returned to the present realm.

”You ‘lright then?” He says before leaning back into the bed, his expression one that could be either concern or inconvenience it was hard to tell. The dark circles under his eyes looked as bad as the ones you felt under your own eyes. Sleep clearly evading you both.

“Yeah,” You softly utter, clearing the collating gunk from the bottom of your throat with a cough. The windows displayed a distinctly dark bog from the outside though it was difficult to tell if only a few hours passed or if a whole day had passed. “You’re back to normal,” it felt less like a comforting observation and more like a jipe considering he would never be back to normal. But, you supposed this was to be his new normal.

He laughs dryly, wincing while shuffling to a spot of more comfort, seemingly like he read your mind and was inclined to agree with you. “Your eyes… did this strange thing. Like there was light trapped inside you, wanting to get out… I thought for a moment divine intervention happened and your soul was being exercised.”

A laugh escapes your lips, “piety does not suit you very well.” Your eyes graze along his body, inspecting for any signs remaining of his partial transformation. The clothes that lay on him were barely holding together, his torso might as well be laid bare and his pantaloons left nothing to the imagination. Your scrutinizing gaze must have made him uncomfortable as he seemed to flush red with embarrassment and cover himself with the thin blanket.

Sighing, you stand up, his gaze following you carefully and curiously. He did this often, everytime he would arrive for the full moon and the two days that followed he did a lot of watching. At first you thought you disliked the constant eyes, peering over your shoulders or beneath the kitchen table but the longer he did it, the less it felt like surveillance and more just curiosity.

You return to him with two identical bottles in hand, wax sealing the corks at the opening to prevent them leaking but also to prolong the viscous liquids effects. “Take these back with you when you go, it’ll help,” placing them on the table, your fingers linger over them for a moment, “do you know what happened… yesterday?”

His head falls back against the pillow, staring up at the various dried herbs dangling from the ceiling, “I have an idea… I was transforming, wasn’t I? Is that — that’s not normal, is it?” His eyes dart around the hut, craning his neck to watch you by the hearth heating up a cauldron.

“Somewhat,” you answer quietly, the heat from the fire encasing you in a warm caress before abandoning it to return to Aegon’s bedside, a hot cloth in hand. “To suffer under the curse of the Lycan is to surrender body and soul to the beast. The moon commands you yes… but there is a beast within you, and if controlled properly can extend to hybrid forms that don’t require the full moon's command.”

“But… I didn’t have control,” his eyebrows crease together, “I was… I was angry. My mother… she —,” he stopped himself, the look that fell from the frown pressed into his lips to the creases on his forehead indicated it wasn’t something he wished to speak about, and it wasn’t something you wished to press him on so you nod silently.

With the steaming cloth in your hand, you softly begin to pat away at his forehead, gently removing the dried up flecks of blood after the day prior’s harrowing ordeal. “A beast is quick to anger,” the saying was something you recall Auntie musing about once, though in reference to the ever grumpy crocodile that frequented its favourite sunspot by the elder tree.

“Don’t let Aemond hear you say that, he may show offense,” Aegon tiredly jested, a smile tugging at his cracked lips.

”I fear if he had been stuck with this burden then perhaps Oldtown would end in ruin,” the thought had occurred many times since that woeful night, “alas, infant lycanthropes tend to show signs of hybrid transformations after an entire seasonal rotation. It was not something I anticipated happening so soon… it will get easier over time and less painful.”

“How do you know?”

”Because that is what I do, I gather ingredients, cast spells and know things.” You smile at him, hand absently caressing his cheek above the steaming cloth and begin to wonder what it would’ve been like if fate entwined the two of you earlier than the blightful event that brought your lives together.

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