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sapphim · 6 months

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Monstrous Wardens Masterpost

A great big collection of text from the Dragon Age games and novels about darkspawn, Grey Wardens, and the Calling, to fuel everyone's monstrous wardens headcanons.

This has actually been sitting in my drafts for like half a year now bc I thought I really should scrounge around for more quotes from Last Flight, Awakening, and Legacy. That... didn't happen, and there's really no sense in holding off longer. If I ever do get around to it, I'll pull more quotes to add. But I consider this complete as is. enjoy~

—

The Song

The Old Gods will call to you, From their ancient prisons they will sing. Dragons with wicked eyes and wicked hearts, On blacken'd wings does deceit take flight, The First of My children, lost to night.

—Canticle of Silence 3:6, Dissonant Verse

“The Old Gods beckon, as they always have.” The Architect turned and paced to the other side of the cell. The shadows cast on the walls by the glowstone danced ominously. “That is what you hear. To my people, it is a call that we cannot ignore. It whispers to our blood and compels us to seek the Old Gods out. We search and search for their prisons, and when we find one, we touch the face of perfection and thus desecrate it forever.”

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 6

So close. We nearly reached him. Made it down to what looked like a dwarven thaig where the song was actually audible, real and thrumming through the air, not just in our heads. It rattled through the lyrium pillars and shook the earth beneath our feet to its dreadful tempo.

—[DAI] Note: Ancient Warden Logbook

There were creatures in that land. Dark things that lurked in the corners. Cole couldn’t see them, and didn’t want to. He worried that they could see him, however. […] And worse, there was the music. He didn’t know what it was, but it seemed to come from far, far oﬀ. It called to him, but not in a pleasant way— it had an urgency that sped his heart and made his blood burn. The dark creatures, the lurkers, they listened to it. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he could feel them out there, craning their necks, raising taloned hands toward that call.

—Dragon Age: Asunder, chapter 9

As the griffon began to climb through the clouds that followed the Blight, Isseya heard a faint, strange melody seep into her mind. She had no sense of it as actual sound; rather, it seemed to come from within, almost as if she were humming the tune to herself. She could never have imagined such a song, though. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard. Aching and ethereal, it seemed to pull her toward a memory of nostalgic bliss that she had somehow lost—but that she would do anything to recover. Anything at all. […] “What was it?” the elf asked, shaken. […] “The Archdemon.” […] For the rest of their ride back to Antiva City, Isseya sat small and quiet on Blacktalon’s back, unable to reconcile the horrors of the darkspawn with the sweetness of their song.

—Dragon Age: Last Flight, chapter 3

The Chorus

The faint sounds of movement ahead got more frequent, and along with them, they began to hear a strange humming. It was deep and alien, a reverberating sound that they felt in their chests and that made their skin crawl. […] The deep humming was coming from [the creature. It] was moaning softly, almost chanting, and this moan built upon the sounds of many others behind it in the shadows. They hummed in unison, a hushed and deadly whisper the creatures spoke as one. […] All of them walked as calmly as the first, shambling toward them while moaning and hissing softly. The sound was loud now, reverberating around them like a physical force. […] They watched the darkspawn advance, their weapons held at the ready. Even with their prey cornered, the creatures did not accelerate. Their hum became louder, reached a hungry, fever pitch.

—Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne, chapter 14

Were they digging? He had the impression that the masses of them were all engaged in some sort of industry, all united in moving great portions of the rock out of the cavern and expanding it even further. Yet there were no sounds of tools crashing against stone, no hammering sounds or grunts of exertion. All he could hear was a rhythmic groan, a keening pitch that it seemed each of the darkspawn contributed to. The sound of it made his skin crawl, and he realized that the chorus in the distance responded to it. Like a cat that arched its back to meet a brushing hand it became ecstatic; it surged and almost overwhelmed his senses.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 6

The Senses

They were more than simply skilled at fighting darkspawn; they knew them intimately. They sensed their presence, sometimes even gleaned their intent.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 4

He could feel the darkspawn out there now. Genevieve was right. It just took some time to become acclimated. They were at the edge of his consciousness, lurking in the shadows far out of sight. It was that same feeling when someone was standing behind you, and you didn’t hear them or sense them in any way; you just knew.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 5

Bregan closed his eyes and carefully reached out with his senses. There were darkspawn all around him. Not in the same room, perhaps, but nearby. He could feel them tickling at the edge of his mind. As always, the sensation came with a feeling of foulness, as if a poison had seeped under his skin.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 2

“There is a taint that is within the darkspawn […] A darkness that pervades us, compels us, drives us to rail against the light. It is in our blood and corrupts the very world around us.” The creature gestured toward Bregan with a withered, taloned hand. “It is also within your blood. It is what makes you what you are, what you sense in us and we in you.”

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 2

Anders: Hmm. Hawke: What's wrong? Anders: I think [the Grey Wardens are] nearby. Anders: Or it could be darkspawn.

—Dragon Age II

The hunter had a sensitivity to the taint that went far beyond any tracking ability he might have learned during his time with the Ash Warriors. He was always the first to sense the approach of darkspawn, and he could discern between the various breeds by their scent alone. Some of the Grey Wardens even used to claim that Kell could do the same with them, sense who was who from afar just as if they were darkspawn. If so, the hunter never commented on it.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 11

She felt Bregan out there, felt him just the same as she felt the darkspawn. Every now and again she would turn a corner in the tunnels and would feel her brother’s presence on the edge of her senses, almost as if his scent had been carried to her somehow on an invisible wind.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 15

The Dreams

Alistair: Oh… and then there were the nightmares. Duncan said it was part of how we sense the darkspawn. We tap into their… well, I don't know what you'd call it. Their “group mind.” Alistair: And when we sleep, it's even worse. You learn to block it out after a while, but at first it's hard. It's supposed to be worse for those who Join during a Blight. How is it for you? Warden: Nightmares… yes, I know what you mean. Alistair: Some people never have much trouble, but that's rare. Others have trouble sleeping their entire life. They're just more sensitive, I suppose. Alistair: Everyone ends up the same, though. Once you reach a certain age, the real nightmares come. That's how a Grey Warden knows his time has come.

—Dragon Age: Origins

The dream, when it came, was similar to the hundreds of dreams Fiona had suffered since she’d become a Grey Warden. Before, however, it had always felt as if she was looking on the dream from afar, hazy and easy to forget. Now it was crystal clear. Fiona stood on a battlefield littered with dead men. All of them were soldiers in heavy armor, knights wearing the griffon standard of the order. Each had been brutally slaughtered. The smell of blood and decay hung thick and cloying in the air, the buzzing sound of flies nipping at her senses. Overhead, the sky filled with an endless, roiling black cloud. It looked like ink spreading slowly in water, a great stain that blotted out the horizon. She had been told about this. The first sign of the Blight, said the Grey Wardens, is found in the clouds. When the mighty dragon rises, its corruption touches the world and spreads. She was alone on that field of corpses. All alone. The wind picked up, a sickly breeze that carried with it the stench of carrion. A gloom fell upon her, and she stumbled as she watched something rise from out of the field of bodies nearby. It was enormous. A great, black thing that was as cold and terrible as anything she could have imagined. Fear pulsed through her. Her heart raced, and she looked away. She didn’t want to see it. She threw her hands up in front of her eyes not to see it. Yet still she felt it coming. Her foot caught between two corpses and made her fall back on top of them. Dead flesh pressed against her and still she covered her eyes. Still she felt the darkness surging ever closer to her. It was coming. And it was coming for her.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 14

The Calling

Hawke: You don't look well, Bethany. Are you injured? Bethany: Injured? I have the darkspawn taint forever in my veins, barely held in check by the Wardens' rituals. Bethany: I will never be well again.

—Dragon Age II

At first, it was just a whisper. A creak in the door hinge I could put off oiling. But soon, all I could hear was the music. It was there when I swung my staff and wiped the sweat from my brow. It lingered in Lyam's laughter and stalked my dreams. I can't explain the sound—the song—but I knew. It's a poison that grows in the mind, then consumes the body.

—[DAI: The Descent] Codex Entry: Warden Ailsa's Diary

It scratches at my thoughts, the music almost a voice, at once unearthly and beautiful. I found myself humming it aloud a few days past. Where once it intruded, it now feels a natural part of my mind's course. It coils around memories I hold dear—training with Ser Keller, riding in the moonlight, my mother's face the last time I saw her—and inserts itself into them, so that I could almost swear that music, that sense of a presence watching and calling, had always been a part of what I remember.

—[DAI] Codex Entry: Regarding the Calling

She had seen enough of the corruption to last a lifetime, and somewhere off in the far distance was that strange sound, the beautiful whispering. She didn’t want to listen to it, but couldn’t help herself. She closed her eyes and tried to pick out what the whisper was saying. Was it a song? Was it a name? It almost seemed that it was calling out to her, stroking her soul ever so softly. . . .

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 14

The humming sound, however, was stronger even than before. It was no longer something muted and distant; it was everywhere. It was behind the walls and under the floor; it filled the shadows and caressed his skin. There was a terrible beauty to it now, an awful yearning that pulsated within the sound, a tugging that pulled at the edge of his consciousness and yet frightened and nauseated him at the same time. The humming had eclipsed any sense he had of the darkspawn. Any attempt he made to reach out with his mind to sense where the creatures were found only a wall of beautiful sound instead. Like a weed, it had insinuated itself into his consciousness, blocking out anything useful.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 6

The far-off chorus had become a powerful symphony, a great swell of beautiful music that no longer pounded to get inside his head but instead tickled at the edges of his thoughts. It was far easier to ignore, but now he found it distracting. He found himself losing his train of thought whenever he listened.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 10

The taint fogged her thoughts a little more with each passing morning. Her diary, once a detailed chronicle of every day’s thoughts, went neglected for weeks, sometimes months. She was losing her mind. She wasn’t the only one, of course. It had gotten harder to tell the reality of the Blight from the horrors of her dreams. Sometimes she wasn’t sure which one she walked through, or which one she fought in. The elf had learned to recognize the confusion that sometimes passed over other senior Wardens’ faces. They, too, heard the Archdemon’s song echoing through their heads, a trifle louder every night. They, too, fought to block it out and to hide the signs from their comrades…

—Dragon Age: Last Flight, chapter 21

My body is breaking down. The fingernails were the first to go. I started to itch all over, and when I scratched, they peeled back. Clumps of hair fell away. Then clumps of flesh. I hear a song in my head. It's deafening. The most beautiful thing I've ever heard. But I don't hear it with my ears. It's in my brain. A blissful sound. This must be the call for which the darkspawn yearn, what causes them to dig so feverishly. I'd still rather die. Suppose that's something.

—[DAI] Codex Entry: To Be Corrupted

His skin itched terribly underneath those bandages, but he resisted the urge to peel them off. The pain throughout his body was dull but insistent, as if his body protested against this unfamiliar movement. The sluggishness made him wary. There was a thickness to his blood, a deliberateness to his heartbeat that made him feel like something alien was crawling inside of him and sapping his strength. […His arms] were half covered in dark blotches. At first, he wondered if that was some kind of injury, or perhaps a bloodstain. But then he noticed the texture of the skin within those discolored areas: rough and withered, just as darkspawn flesh was. […] Every part of his skin that wasn’t covered by the greyed cloth bandages was corrupted. It was like a network of black mold working its way across his entire body, and everywhere it touched he could feel a hot buzzing underneath the flesh. It was difficult to look at.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 6

The Architect stared into Utha’s eyes and nothing happened at first. Then black veins began to appear along her hand where the darkspawn touched her. They became darker and darker, the veins branching until her entire hand was criss-crossed with them. […] Her flesh withered and curled, the air filling with the foul stench of decay. […] The stain on her skin spread, crawling up her neck and covering her face. Her coppery hair began to grey, and then it became white. Her long braid twisted and curled behind her, like a match that was burning itself into a cinder. Her eyes shot open, blood red, and she opened her mouth in a soundless scream... and what wisps remained of her hair simply fell out. And then it was done.

—Dragon Age: The Calling, chapter 16

Bonus entry that made me go "hey what the fuck"

What I remember most is its tongue flapping against a row of spiky teeth. I'd heard emissaries possessed the ability to speak, but the words were unnatural. They twisted and lurched as they left the creature's mouth, accompanied with a spray of saliva. "Have you ever experienced living flesh ground between your teeth?" it asked Mila before biting through her throat.

—[DAI: The Descent] Codex Entry: Darkspawn Emissary

#dragon age #grey wardens #darkspawn #wardenposting #canonical texts

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zaimta · 11 months

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彡A VS. B

paring: laxus dreyar x reader

zai says: the ova was so funny but the fan service was certainly something, anyways laxus fic bc it's all i can write for the 10 other fairy tail stans on here this is for you

suggestive!! i’m pushing 18 let me live

it was the aftermath of the grand magic games, fairy tail won like they said they would but the little wager they made didn’t get forgotten. since the two split teams were forced to join as one, neither team could uphold the agreement. so as a tiebreaker makarov decided on an old-fashioned rock-paper-scissors to determine the victor.

erza stepped up to face laxus in the match “you got this erza! wipe the floor with em!” you cheered on your friend along with the rest of team ‘a’. erza nodded and raised her hand, laxus took up the same motion, when erza dropped her hand she had scissors while laxus had rock.

your jaw dropped and you felt your eye twitch “you got to be kidding me.” a chorus of groans and complaints came from the ‘a’ team, it was going to be a long day for all of you.

the ‘b’ team wasted no time, as soon as they won they got straight to business. laxus pulled out a map and presented it to the ‘a’ team “go to this forest to get a magic stone.”

“magic stone?” wendy asked curiously

“the forest is called ‘las puertas del infierno’.”

you blinked at him “let me get this straight you want us to go to some forest that is literally called the doors of hell, for a rock…yeah i’m not going.”

he laughed and smirked at you “that’s cute but you don’t have a choice here babe, you have till noon.”

“please i barely wanna look for some stupid rock so why would i-” mid-sentence you let yourself think, you caught the smirk he sent your way so he was sending you along with the exploration team on purpose. he knew you, and searching through a swamp for a rock was the last thing you wanted to do.

“you sick son of a bitch you are good.” you glared at him, he knew you well and you hated it, he had just what he needed to get the upper hand in the punishment game.

you slowly trudged through the swamp, disgusted by all its inhabitants and the murky water you were walking in “guys i wanna go home.”

gray looked at you from the corners of his eyes with a sigh “you’ve been saying that for the past ten minutes y/n.”

you sucked your teeth at him and rolled your eyes “that doesn’t make it any less true. let’s just find that stupid rock go we could get out of here, i mean lucy over here covered head to toe in leeches.”

“what?!” she shrieked while running around in circles “get them off me! get them off!”

“i would put im not touching those” you pointed to the leeches on her thighs “besides i just got my nails done these weren’t cheap you know.”

nastu fired a flame attack to help lucy with the leeches, while peeling off the remaining creatures he spoke to you over his shoulder “when did you find time to get those we just, got back from the grand magic games, and how did you pay for them last time i checked you’re dirt broke like the rest of us.”

lucy slapped his head “speak for yourself!” lucy had rent to pay so she could be anything she wanted but dirt broke, she's been taking jobs back to back just to pay her rent.

you shrugged "you have your strengths and i have mine, and i happen to have a bottomless wallet on my side."

happy snickered behind his paws “yeah a bottomless wallet who’s in loveee”

you whipped your neck around and yelled at happy “can it cat!” unfortunately for you he continued giggling floating off to be by natsu.

after walking through the swamp for what felt like hours, when it reality it was a long hour and thirty minutes you finally found the stone. thanks to gray and his unfortunate set of circumstances.

when you finally returned to the guild and returned the stone just for it to be used for a makeshift jacuzzi, you and lucy shared a single glance that spoke volumes.

your eyes took in laxus' chiseled body going lower and lower until your eyes rested on his happy trail, you were no stranger to this sight but it still did the job for you every time, too busy admiring his body you didn’t notice him looking at you with a lazy grin on his face “my eyes are up here y/n.”

his voice snapped you out of your daze “hm? oh yeah sure whatever.” you looked away from him ignoring the snickers coming from the remainder of the b team.

it came time for the b team to pick members from the a team. cana took wendy, mira took erza, gajeel took lucy, and unsurprisingly juvia took gray. you, elfman and natsu unfortunately got stuck with laxus.

you were stuck tending to laxus and the thunder legion by the jacuzzi while he sent natsu and elfman on a while goose chase for milk and bread, you rose a brow as they ran out of the guild for the items.

“y/n.” he smirked at you as he spoke, he pointed to his shoulder with his thumb “i want you to give me a massage if you don’t mind.”

you resisted the urge to roll your eyes ‘if you don’t mind’ he says, like you had a choice in the first place.

you flashed him a fake smile “gee i would have too but i don’t have a swimsuit! what if i fell in? we wouldn’t want that now would we?” you knew there was no proper way to get out of this, but even if you could stall a little you would be fine.

“i could get you a swimsuit y/n.” evergreen chipped in with a smile

you immediately turned around to face her “say what now?”

laxus smirked at you and nodded towards the guild doors "evergreen go take y/n to get a swimsuit." you couldn't protest even if you wanted to, and you were a little irritated that you didn't think your plan through. after picking swimsuits with evergreen, which you think she enjoyed more than you did, you walked back to the jacuzzi where they were all waiting for you.

laxus gave a low whistle shamelessly letting his eyes hungrily roam over your body and then pointed to his shoulders "where were we?" sometimes you couldn't deny how much you hated him.

bickslow smiled and pointed to his own shoulders “i’d like a massage too.”

you scowled at him which only caused his grin to become wider “freed is literally sitting right there make him do it. you’re all dead once this day ends.”

as you massaged his bare shoulders, you noticed the marks on his back that you left from your last night together, rolled your eyes at how he showed them off and traced a finger on the red scratches letting your nail gently glide across his back.

he pointed to his shoulder with a smirk on his face “my shoulders are up here y/n. are you feeling okay you’re out of it today?” he chuckled as he felt you glaring him down, as you massaged his shoulders you occasionally moved your hands to the base of his neck, longing to put your hands around his neck and clutch.

evergreen nudged the boys knowing it was their cue to leave, evergreen sent you a wink over her shoulder as she left with bickslow and freed "try to act civil you two we're in the guild after all."

within seconds laxus pulled you onto his lap clearly ignoring evergreen's words of wisdom. he rested his hands on your waist to support you, and he smiled up at you with a gleam in his eyes. his hands roamed your body as they moved down to your hips, he pulled you closer to him your body was flush against his and he whispered in your ear “that was a dirty move you pulled using your nails like that.” his voice sent shivers down your spine, the way he whispered those words just for you to hear despite the empty room, if there was one thing he knew how to do it was how to leave an effect on you.

you fiddled with the hair on the nape of his neck knowing how it affects him “it was just a harmless massage, you were the one who told me to give you one after all.” you gently dragged your nails from his neck into his hair, grazing your nails into his scalp, grinning when he hummed at your touch.

“you play a dangerous game y/n. we’ve got a couple more hours till the day ends let’s make it count.”

#laxus x reader #laxus dreyar x reader #fairy tail x reader #fairy tail x you #fairy tail x y/n #laxus x you #laxus x y/n #laxus dreyar x y/n #laxus dreyar x you

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devieuls · 9 months

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ˋ Jealousy .

Neteyam Sully x Metkayina Reader ( ONE SHOT )

Synopsis : When the game of love becomes a double-edged sword, jealousy turns into a consuming force. After months of back and forth between you and Neteyam, his jealousy reaches its climax when you decide to make you want and openly flirt with one of his friends, tormenting him mercilessly. Trapped in a spiral of conflicting emotions, Neteyam will have to confront his inner demons and find out if the desire of possession can ever be love. In an explosion of conflicting feelings that will inevitably lead both of you to bask in each other, consumed by the fire of passion after the spark of jealousy caused by your behavior.

Warning : SMUT MDNI !Explicit sex! - Bites, oral sex, canines, hickeys, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, dirty talk, foreplay, dacryphilia, rude sex…

Lenght : 7.8k

NETEYAM: 21 y.o / Y/N: 19 y.o (dress)

NA'VI WORDS : TANHI: Star / Bioluminescent freckles; YAWNE: Beloved YAWNETU: Loved one

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

The eclipse was beginning on the horizon, tinging the sky with pinkish shades, while the last rays of light danced on the sea surface of Metkayina beach. The flames danced animatedly around the bonfire, crackling with an ancestral melody that filled the air, creating an intimate and relaxing atmosphere, while the sound of the sea became increasingly enveloping. Your group of friends sat in a circle on the warm sand, the faces illuminated by the eclipse that began to welcome Pandora’s night. The sky was tinged with shades of purple and bluish, while the sun slowly plunged into the sea, leaving behind a trail of sparkling reflections. Every now and then, the song of a seagull echoed in the air, accompanied by the call of other sea creatures. The waves broke gently on the beach, bringing with them small fragments of shells and algae, which the feet of those present caressed lightly. The smell of salt and wet sand mixed with the pungent smell of wood burnt by fire. Your voices resounded in the air, intertwined in a lively chorus of laughter and tales, while Aonung carried some alcohol taken from the marui of the provisions. Your friends exchanged stories of past adventures, future dreams, new and lost loves, while you tried not to pay too much attention to love stories, knowing you were in a strange situation with Neteyam.

It’s been months since you and Neteyam have been pulling and dropping the rope, like your feelings are just something to pass the time with and not something concrete. You flirted, you spent time together, you talked a lot and it was clear that there was alchemy between you, too bad neither of you had ever bothered to declare or to formalize something, remaining friends, yes, but "not only". You hated that feeling of stalemate, where you waited because even if you mentioned the thing life seemed to lead you to not finish the whole sentence. Neteyam also spent time with other girls, knowing full well that you felt something towards him, almost playing with this too, pushing your buttons until you collapse and completely let go of the rope. The boys who courted you certainly did not miss, you were considered the 'pearl' of the Metkayina clan for a reason, coveted by most of the warriors or young men of the clan to become their companion. Among these men was also Aonung, the son of the Olo'eyktan, who had been raving about you for years now, trying to win you over, but never really succeeding, because of you. But that night you decided to change the cards on the table, to play the same game as Neteyam, intolerant of your overt jealousy when he stayed with other women, beginning to become a little more intimate with Aonung, giving him the chance he’d been waiting for for years now.

Neteyam looked at you from a distance as he saw you walking in the opposite direction to his, where Aonung was sitting with some stolen booze, sharing it with his companions. You approached the boy’s ear, making sure you were perfectly under the watchful eye of Neteyam as you did so, starting to speak to Aonung. You sat next to him while you smiled brazenly, immediately eliminating the minimum distance between your body and that of young Metkayina. You laid your hands on his shoulder, continuing to speak to his ear, while he did the same to you, exchanging complicit glances and fascinated smiles. Neteyam peered at you, sitting silently on the other side of the bonfire along with some friendships he had made in the clan, as he felt a feeling of jealousy he began to burn inside him, struggling to contain the anger that was emerging. He twitched his innervated jaw as his eyes gazed intensely at the scene, feeling the bitter taste of jealousy on his tongue, but he forced himself to smile and appear distant, even though he is slowly breaking inside. He kept a calm appearance, trying to concentrate on his friends and the stories they were telling, pretending not to pay too much attention to them, even if in the long run his annoyance was evident. His mind, however, was filled with thoughts in turmoil, finding the strength not to get up and break the septum of his friend when he saw his hand resting undisturbed on your thigh.

You smiled at Aonung with a playful air, tilting your head slightly to the side as you exchanged little jokes you passed your fingers on his arm and then on his neck or loose curls, maintaining a subtle but obvious physical connection. Your giggles and jokes filled the air, making it heavy for Neteyam’s already saturated lungs. Every gesture, every look or joke you made was calculated to generate a sense of jealousy in the guy you really cared about. Your words are charged with a magnetic energy as you flirt with Aonung in a casual yet seductive way; aware of the power you were having over Neteyam, who had been playing this game for too long on his own, having fun bringing out his annoyance. After about an hour Neteyam surrendered to jealousy, unable to bear to see you so attached to another boy. He hated to see your body too exposed to seek physical contact with that of Aonung who certainly did not deny it, but rather, did even more than he should. The eyes of the Na'vi wandered with hunger on your body, as if you were something that he would eat soon after and then throw or reuse until you were ruined or he tired. And so, like a poisoned arrow, reality crept into Neteyam’s heart, making his blood bitter. He was only able to absorb the frustration as he got up, being stopped almost immediately by Lo'ak who was at his side and was aware of your many childish games. "Bro, you can’t stop her from doing the same thing you did to her." Lo'ak’s voice was sincere, too sincere, while the grip on his brother’s wrist prevented him from doing shit. Neteyam was bubbling, his skin was burning, and his jaw was contracting from nervousness, as if he hadn’t started that game. "Lo'ak. You better let me go. I swear, I won’t do anything." He said turning to him, the frustrated smile still on his face, but with the difference that Lo'ak knew his brother better than anyone else. He let him go. He knew that holding him back was just a way to break that subtle balance that still kept a hidden side he didn’t like to show, that contained an aspect of himself he hated to admit he had. Possession.

His steps were heavy and fast, his feet sinking into the wet sand leaving deep traces. Neteyam had stiff shoulders and a palpable wrath on his face. His eyes shone with anger and jealousy, while his breathless breath echoed in the tranquillity of the night. The full moon illuminated his path, bringing out the furious waves of her dark hair moving to the rhythm of his determined steps. The boy’s hands were tight fists, the knuckles white from tension. You noticed him out of the corner of your eye, letting a mischievous smile out, and a defiant nod shone in your eyes, knowing that your plan was working. Knowing that you had managed to bring Neteyam to a breaking point, where even his calm had found shelter away from him, and this expanded your satisfaction. Your confidence and ability to flirt with Aonung created ambivalent situations full of tension, on the one hand with sexual while on the other with pure ardent jealousy. You enjoyed finally having the power, playing with the desire and jealousy of your 'him', because he had to be 'him'. Him or nobody. So playing this dirty game only helped you get to the much-coveted prize, not taking into account the fact that every action has a reaction, so you will have to deal with the consequences of your choices. The waves were crashing hard on the coast, as if responding to his inner fury. The sound of the sea mixed with the sound of his footsteps, creating a symphony of tumultuous emotions, giving voice to his tacit jealousy. You were amazed when he put on one of the greatest masks you’ve seen, looking almost peaceful and natural. His slower steps and his calm breath, though his aura remained poisonous and pointed. The sea seemed to follow his mood once again.

Neteyam passed behind you, surpassing Aonung’s body, then slipping his hand over your shoulder and then around your neck. Swallow silently as you feel his thumb caress the line of your jawline, as he pulled your neck back slightly, slamming your head against his lower abdomen. You broke away from Aonung without even wanting it, while silently the grip around your neck strengthened the right to let out from your lips a choked breath. "Ma Tanhì" his gentle voice, with a bitter aftertaste that weighed down your thoughts. "May I have a word with you, please?" He went on, completely ignoring Aonung who was watching your interaction, annoyed. "Can you give us a minute? Aonung and I-" He stopped you even before you could finish the sentence, bending over your ear, without taking your hand from your soft flesh, weakening your voice. "Y/n. Baby, don’t make me mad. Get your sweet ass out of here and follow me before I make you regret even coming here dressed like this." He growled low in your ear, making you shiver down your spine. A quiver made its way between your legs, taking you to tighten them instantly. Neteyam’s hand let you go and you started breathing regularly, swallowing while you tried to suppress the pleasure of being taken that way by your 'him' and by how he had obviously shaken your strong and decisive tone. He took a few steps back, waiting for you to get up, not knowing that you wanted to keep pulling the strings a little longer.

"Kalin, what’s going on? Do you have to leave?" Aonung maliciously asked you, with a mocking tone as a smirk unfolded on his face, thinning his eyes. His hand was placed between your hair, as he moved some curls behind your ear, approaching you. You looked at him, biting your lip, giving him clear signals that clearly you didn’t mind what he was doing. "No, I don’t." You said, turning your back on Neteyam. Neteyam looked at you with a smirk for the boldness in which you had posed your challenge, almost offending him. He approached you again, taking you hard from your jaw, turning you completely in his direction, pressing his lips on yours. His free hand went to take Aonung’s fingers out of your hair and then create a new grip there.

Your lips brushed rough, exploring the contours of your mouths, before venturing deeper. His tongue entered your mouth shamelessly, savoring and sucking it with pleasure, almost knotting it and weaving it with uncontrollable hunger, creating a symphony of thrilling sensations. You blushed to think that this was the first kiss you exchanged with Neteyam, never getting to this part in the months you were just flirting. The tip of his tongue grazed yours, pushing and chasing yours like an erotic dance and thought as slow. Each movement was charged with possession and desire, creating a succession of frantic pulsations between your legs. The spasms of pleasure spread through your mouth, panting heavily as the boy created a deep and carnal connection, guiding you on a one-way journey into true ecstasy, an ever more intimate discovery of your most hidden desires. Neteyam wanted to show how his tongue possessed yours, not ashamed to make you pant for the air you were losing and your blush. His tongue came out of your mouth only when he felt fully satisfied by Aonung’s upset reaction, savoring your lips again before they came off, leaving a thread of saliva that still joined you. You blush more, feeling all the power accumulated with your game crumble in seconds. You gasped as you caught your breath and covered your mouth with your hand, cutting the thread that connected you two.

Pride. Pride and Possession. These were the feelings that Neteyam laid two fingers under your chin, looking you in the eye as you looked so helpless and embarrassed. He smiled at you brazenly, showing his lovely canines as he saw something in you had slightly broken, feeling Aonung’s burning, silent gaze. Around you it was as if everyone had turned to look at you in shock, not really believing what they had just seen.

"I told you to get off your ass and follow me. Why do you always make everything so difficult, yawntutsyìp?" He blew his words with a mocking tone on the hand that still covered your mouth, and then took you and dragged you behind some rocks, away from everything and everyone, where not even the crackling of the bonfire was heard anymore. You followed him in silence as you touched your lips in disbelief, your eyes still open and upset, not really being able to conceive of the fact that he really did what he did. "You kissed me… You kissed me in front of everyone… y-you" you whispered breathlessly, while your back scratched against some rocks because of the body of Neteyam that immobilized you and took away every way to escape, leaning your hand on the sides of your body on the rock. "Damn it, yeah. I did. And you loved it so much," he growled at you, feeling so small in that moment, vulnerable. He approached your ear, taking long deep breaths, trying to suppress the anger caused by your behavior. "I’m tired of these fucking games, y/n. You know I want you and you know you want me. Then why the hell did you let Aonung touch you? Why his hand was on your thigh and his eyes were on your breast. Shit, ngatsyìp. You don’t know how long I had to hold on to not break his hands and claw his eyes out." His voice always lower and hoarse, accompanied by snarls and hisses annoyed, first hitting the bundle of nerves between your legs than your ears. You looked away, taking some breaths and then being forced by his hand to look at him. "You look me in the eye when we talk. Ok. What? You don’t feel so strong playing with fire anymore?" he said mocking you, biting your lip violently.

"I just played your game…" you whispered so much that the sea breeze took your words away before they reached Neteyam’s ears. Your heart kept pounding in your ears while trying to realize the situation. "Voice, baby. I thought you had it before. Raise your voice well with me" he said growling at you, causing you to gasp heavily. His free hand washed away the invisible marks Aonung had left on your body, hating how your natural smell was mixed with another man’s. "I said. I just played your game. Now you’re jealous of something you started?" You found the courage to fight back with a tone worthy of yourself, which still made you feel remotely respected by yourself. "That's my girl. Hmhm Jealous? Jealousy isn’t enough, sweetie." he replied in a low, threatening voice. "If I was just jealous, I would have just tamed you later. Now it’s not enough, I want to see how your pride and respect fades from your eyes for me. Make you beg for forgiveness, cuz you belong to me, only to me." He replied with an asshole smile as the tips of his fingers rose along your thigh slowly, coming under your loincloth. You gasped, feeling the blush hit your cheeks again "Can you hear me? just me. Mine alone." concluded before pressing both hands on your hips and waist. His lips touching your jaw before they were on your neck. You could feel your heart rumbling in your chest as your body temperature reached levels of warmth you never imagined. His rough touch made you shudder and get goosebumps, while your silky skin scratched against the rocks, making you wince.

"Tamed? You think you can tame me like this?" You whispered and then panted when his soft lips snapped to start working on your neck, alternating wet kisses with bites. He laughed raucously, gripping your body. "You think you can’t be tamed? I’ve tamed animals bigger and more dangerous than you, Tanhì. But I don’t just want to tame you, baby. I want to break you." His voice easily cut through those security wires you held so close to you. You clenched your teeth as you searched for words that were missing and that were erased in your mind by the body of the Omatikayan. "I am not an Ikran to tame, or an Ilu, Neteyam" you said as your voice died again in your throat, feeling his hands press every inch of your body poorly covered. The idea of being 'tamed' by Neteyam seemed to you an idea too tempting for your uncleanness of mind. "Baby. There’s a difference between taming an animal and claiming what’s rightfully yours. I claim what’s mine, y/n. And you’re fucking mine. I own you." He growled on your neck as one of his hands slid behind your back, following your bear spine, exploring your curves, satisfied to hear you tremble under his touch. "I try to be good to you… I swear" He started again, his warm, slow voice sending impulses all over your body, as he untied the knot of your loincloth slowly, feeling the chills when the sea breeze and a few drops of waves wet your skin because of the rocks. "But you don’t listen to me…" your loincloth now on the ground, leaving your bundle of nerves exposed before him. "You make it so difficult. And you like to see me angry with this" his rough hands explored your body with curiosity and desire, leaving nothing untouched.

He easily tore off the top of the strings that covered your breasts, leaving you completely naked under him, making you blush while in the distance you still heard the buzz of some of your friends talking. Neteyam came down to your collarbones, and then came down to your breasts and took your red, hard nipple in your mouth, starting to brush one with your tongue. " I’ll tame you one way or another, ma yawne," he said as he held your breast in his mouth, sucking your raging buds, bringing one of his hands to do the same job. "And it’s so easy that you’ll beg for more…" his voice was a seductive whisper that sends shocks to your brain. "… and I’ll give it to you." moaned while working your breasts "again…" sucked slightly making you arch your back against his face. "and again. Until you’re drunk on me." His warm breath hit the swollen tip of your breasts, while his malevolent tongue knew perfectly how to do it job. He got slightly annoyed when you began to wriggle slightly because of the pleasure, and his knee ended between your legs, pressing the surface against your inner thigh. He pinched your nipple greedily with his teeth as he swirled his tongue around your bud. Your hand ended up between his braids, pulling them as you sought consolation, whining slightly for the attentions that made you pump more and more blood down your belly, against your intimacy. His hand not engaged in stimulating the other breast, wrapped itself around the base of your fluffy breast, squeezing it against his mouth, while he pumped and squeezed your bud harder and harder.

"ma 'teyam…" you whispered with a thread of voice as you tried to wriggle, feeling the friction between his body and the wet rocks, which made you wince. You stared at Neteyam’s face, his sharp features illuminated by some rays of dim light and his bright tanhì dusted on his cheeks. He smiled maliciously as he released your breasts, licking it one last time before holding hands on your butt, Your breasts pressed against the damp and rough rock, sending you electric shocks all over your body while he pressed his veiled erection on your ass. Your breasts pressed against the moist and rough rock, sending you electric shocks all over your body while he pressed his masculinity on your ass, making you shake your legs. You bit your lip as you felt your intimacy pulsating and becoming increasingly wet, accumulating all the excitement that made you want to have more, to feel more. His fingers slipped on your exposed backside as he admired you bent to ninety just for his pleasure. One of the two hands followed your chills as far as you needed them most, beginning to gently caress your dripping folds. "Oh, you’re so wet for some nipple play? You’re so pretty, yawne. This Aonung wouldn’t let you try it, would he?" He said as he bent over you, talking to your ear, as his fingers rubbed between your folds, playing slightly with your clitoris. He pinched, pulled and stroked it rough while you whimpered with pleasure against the wet rock. "Do you like it? You want more, don’t you baby? I know you want it" He laughed raucously against your ear, while his fingers only played superficially, not entering as you would have liked. "Yes," you whispered in your breath, biting your lip. "Beg me, Tanhì. Show me how much you want it. How much you want me." You blushed at his words. You wouldn’t have begged, you wanted to, but you still cared about dignity, and he realized that. His touch gradually became more absent, as you moved your hips in despair in the hope of hearing more without yielding to his request.

You wince when Neteyam wrapped a hand around your neck, making you bend your back as he carried you slightly closer to him, and then feel his hand slam against your buttock with enough force that you were almost sure it would leave its mark. It didn’t just hurt, you liked it. A submissive moan came out of your lips as you squeezed your eyes holding back some tears. "I said 'beg'. It wasn’t a request, baby. It’s an order" he growled in a tone you found more exciting than he should have. You bit your lip, then decided to fuck off your pride when a second spanking slammed against your ass before being tight. "Please…" you whispered with a thread of voice, meowing because of the spanking, his hard dick still pressed against you and the hand wrapped around your neck that made you feel shivers all over your body. "Beg harder, Yawne. I want to feel it properly" His fingers sank into your skin, your hips, your waist, your neck and your breasts, alternating between the areas to touch. Your whining and pleading was music to his ears, even better than a juicy yovo fruit on a hot day. He wanted to push you to your limit, and in a way, he was taming you for him, making you cry and beg for something he had already decided to give you, just for the sake of feeling you submissive. His hand tightened more around your neck, licking his lips when he heard your words. "Please Neteyam… More." You growled with clenched teeth, you didn’t have the psychophysical strength to resist Neteyam’s bastard games.

"Ma Yawne, I happen to have heard something like 'more'. Be more specific." Neteyam smiled a diabolical smile as he walked away from you, leaving you bent over and needing him. You felt a warmth invade your face, at other times you would be ashamed, but you wanted to feel it inside you. You had a taste of his covered dick against your ass and you wanted to feel it yours, to taste it and use it at your own pace, feeling somehow that his was not like the others. "I guess I have to leave you like this until I get the proper pleading. Without that obnoxious growl, baby" His mocking tone made you shudder as you got back on your feet, slightly wobbly. Neteyam’s masculine scent collided against your nose, sending you into more heat than before, feeling the overwhelming urge to ride it. You approached him and pressed your bare breasts against his chest, as a hand slowly descended along his sculpted abdomen, placing your fingers on the surface of his loincloth. You began to press the cloth down, as its smell made your tail move quickly and your nose curl to accommodate more. "Neteyam. We both know what I want, and so do you" You whispered against his skin, feeling his hot eyes on you. You felt a small gasp when your hand found its way inside the loincloth, caressing the hard flesh that covered so much. "So please… Please. Just do it."

Your gaze met his vibrant golden eyes as he watched you from above, letting you shove him on the sand with a smile, before you sat on his belly and felt the sand scratch against your knees. Neteyam took you from the choker necklace you were wearing and carried you on his lips, replicating the passionate kiss he gave you before taking you away. His bruised hands on your skin as he squeezed the soft, velvety flesh, while only one of yours went into your hair, creating a foothold. You welcomed his warm tongue again, as your heavy breaths mingled in your mouth, leaving some panting while you unhooked the loincloth knot, impatiently removing it. You embraced his hardened dick between your folds, creating only friction without letting it in, feeling it only between your already wet lips. The submissive growl that he left in your mouth made you pant, stimulating a point in your brain that cried out to let him in, to feel him inside you. Your hips kept swaying back and forth as you lubricated the Neteyam muscle with your humors. You felt the pulse of Neteyam’s lateral vein collide with your bundle of nerves and you pounded from the boy’s warm lips to look down, gasping and hissing slightly. You bit your lip as you saw the tiny bioluminescent freckles on his sex, watching as his tip had become slightly reddish, overbearing and angry as precum dripped out due to rubbing against your legs.

Neteyam’s eyes did not come away from you for a second, biting his lip as he watched you almost remain hypnotized by his member and blush almost feeling his mouth. He laughed raucously as he took warm breaths, still feeling you throbbing against his skin, then putting a hand under your chin and stroking your swollen lips, meeting your heavenly eyes. "What’s up, baby? Are you that hungry?" asked in a mocking tone, as he bent his head to the side, letting his pigtails slip over his shoulder. You nodded silently, starting to get drunk of his smell, of his touch. "You can take it. It's all yours." He told you with confidence, noticing how your eyes were pleading. "I don’t…" You blushed when you couldn’t find a way to tell him you’d never had oral sex. The sex among the native Na'vi was more rough, wild and devoid of particularities such as foreplay or the various games that could be played in the process. For this reason it had never occurred to you that a man’s manhood could be taken to other places besides your intimacy. "Baby, have you ever had a blowjob?" He asked bluntly, as he looked for your slightly embarrassed look, immediately realizing that like many other Na'vi he had been with, you had never experienced oral sex. "Oh, you never did…" he said in a mischievous tone as he gripped your hair before leading you down. Now that he knew your mouth were virgin, he felt excited to be the first of all. The idea of having your mouth before anyone else made him particularly happy and his sex, like his tail, seemed to give voice to his pride. "Fine. I’ll teach you how to please me" he said in a low voice.

You started to come down, slowly, savoring every inch of his skin that had a salty aftertaste. Your mouth passed over his chest, falling lower and lower as his hand guided you from his hair. He briefly left you when you arrived on his naked hip, going down with your lips up to his testicles, until he took back the grip in your curly hair and carried you on his sex, ready to be welcomed by your warmth. Your tongue flowed along its entire length, seeking approval in his eyes, seeing him already clench his jaw, making you understand that you had started well. You wrapped its hardness, feeling it already hot and moist, beating against your tongue as its precum pinched the taste buds with a strong and fresh taste. You started to lick the bittersweet liquid as his hand began to make you understand the mechanism of that new game. You made slow movements up and down, enjoying every breathless breath, every hissing and growling softly. His eyes closed as his head bent backwards, noticing the contraction of his abdomen as his tip slowly touched a low point in your throat, and when he felt he had touched your fluffy tonsils he opened his eyes at a snap, letting out a small growl. "Ma Eywa… You’re already so good for me," he said in a gasping voice, intrinsic to pleasure and desire. You watched him enjoy your mouth, unable to stop your thing from slamming into the sand because of the strong excitement that caused you to see it that way.

His golden eyes shone with their own light, slightly darker and tending to green while his gaze became more predatory, thinning as he drove his head at the speed that gave him the most pleasure. You started to take a little more of his hand with the rhythm that he liked and your eyes watered when he hit so far from taking your breath and drooling on his rod, making it reach the peak of pleasure and then bring it down, until he got impatient and raised his hips to make you take his manhood soft in your mouth as much as possible. Starting to fuck your mouth and throat as you let out wet sounds due to friction. You savored it all the way, becoming almost addicted to it, trying to push yourself to where your throat was hurting too, feeling its liquid coming again straight down your throat from how bad it was. His penis getting hotter as it almost seemed to swell in your mouth, making you moan and suck to take as much as possible from his rod. "Look how well you take me, such a beautiful mouth properly used. Maybe that’s how I should shut you up when you get sassy, huh?" He said in a tone full of desire and pleasant, relaxed yet tense because of your eager pumping. Your heart increased your heart rate by accommodating your body’s reaction. You accepted it, your legs heavy as your intimacy became increasingly soggy and eager. You were tense and excited.

It was he who pulled it out of your mouth when he felt he was close, closer than when other people blew him. Your mouth, your moaning and whining had led him to feel high. Completely gone only by your inexperienced but so skillful mouth. It took you out of your hair when it came off, feeling a pop almost like when you pop a bottle and the pressure creates a whistle. "My Eywa, look at you. such a good cocksucker" Your eyes shiny, full of tears while the redness on your cheeks was evident, like the one on your lips that were now swollen and wet with saliva that fell down to your chin. You already missed Neteyam in your mouth, which he noticed just before kissing you, drawing you to him by the necklace again that now looked like a leash and your hair the rope to keep you under his will. < Tamed. > This word rang in your head like a bolt from the blue, becoming strong but superficial. Neteyam’s warm lips could make you feel drunk, influenced by anything he said. The wet, silver sand rubbed against your back when Neteyam blocked you under him, taking him in between your trembling legs, quivering with the desire to feel his member inside you. His mouth went down the line of your jaw, before reaching your ear, where he opened his lips and you felt a smile born on his face. "It wasn’t that hard to tame you, Yawne." You growled faintly at his words, finding a glimmer of clarity that reminded you that you still had some dignity to preserve. " Shh baby, don’t do this now. I just want to see you whine while you ride me just like you did while you ate my dick, hmh?" His tone was a mixture of seriousness, eroticism and teasing. He enjoyed your implicit submission and as you still tried to stick to your pride, he wanted to break you. Your drunken look was enough to keep pushing your buttons to push you over the edge, he wanted to see you lost. Broken. Ruined forever for him. Becoming your biggest addiction so that you don’t want other men besides him.

Neteyam’s mouth began to come down on your neck, leaving mouth-watering kisses on sensitive skin, sucking and biting in places where it would be difficult to hide them. His hand traced the line of your body, making the touch ever lighter as his deep breath struck your neck now wet and branded. Your back arched, wishing to feel more. Eyes opened, as you looked at the stars above you and they seemed so close to you as your body burned under its expert touch. You felt his lips glide over your entire body slowly, causing you chills of pleasure and slight fear, feeling the redness expand on your face. His warm, wet tongue fell back into your navel, his hands shaping your hips, tightening them tightly. He winced when his lips came to your Venus Mountain, not fully understanding where he was going. And then enlightenment. He would play with your intimacy just like you did with him. A thrill of pleasure ran through your body as his mouth walked the path over your sex, feeling once again those jolts hitting the height of your needy clitoris, now swollen and sensitive even just to the sea breeze. His lips embraced the pinnacle of your intimacy, slightly using your teeth, unable to fully understand what he was using because of the gust of heat that clouded your mind. A first subdued moan ran away from your lips as he began to stimulate you, not being able to understand the words he was addressing you, too deaf from that new feeling, managing only to gasp and pant. Jolts of pleasure hit your heavy hips as his hands wrapped around your thighs holding them open to avoid closing spasms that would soon arrive. The touch of his lips on your sex was vivid, you felt the pleasure accumulate with every licking in the wet folds and every eager sucker.

The back arched to the point to hurt, while some pain in the jaw and throat were felt post-fellatio. Your hand found his hair, pulling it slightly as you groaned without shame, stronger than he did and faster. The sound of the waves could no longer censor your cries of pleasure as your free hand squeezed the sand, being bathed by some bolder waves that hit you collaborating with Neteyam’s work. Your eyes were closed, tight as you tried to breathe and let the high ride you, as Neteyam blew and pumped your intimacy mercilessly, gripping your soft thighs as the spasms began. You were afraid that you were feeling so good, not knowing if you were going to make it to the top, never having had this kind of experience. Neteyam ate you rough, drinking your juices and savoring the sweetish taste of your dripping moods trickling down his lips, wetting his chin. He started tickling your entrance with his fingertips, making you angry as you pulled some braids, as if to get him out of there, feeling weak. Neteyam continued his work there, blowing and sucking the air that made you contract the uterus, leaving him amazed and hungry. He swirled his tongue once again over your clitoris, feeling like you were close to reaching the best orgasm of your life. Your hips would unwittingly push against his face as he became more rude and greedy and then feel something in you unlock, and break. You poured yourself on his face, rubbing yourself again on him as Neteyam welcomed your juice into his mouth, satisfied that he had managed to make you come so profusely. You blushed violently as you breathed faster and faster, your chest rose and lowered under the still predatory gaze of Neteyam.

You felt Neteyam’s warm, moist tip press against your still damp intimacy as you took long deep breaths and bit your lip. "Please…" you begged while you were still struggling to breathe because of the orgasm you just had. Neteyam came to look you in the eye, wanted to see the moment when you would break for him. "'Please, what, Ma yawne?" he said in a mocking tone, breathing your sweet smell, mixed with that of pheromones in bloom and your short breath. You closed your eyes turning your face to the side and he pressed between your folds. "I told you to look into my eyes, baby. Tell me what you want," his stern voice made you take your eyes back to his. You breathed deeply as one side of you kept screaming to resist, but that voice was getting so far into your mind as you felt the hot beats of Neteyam. You bit your lip, looking for words. "Just. Please. You know Neteyam…" you whispered while he pressed harder, entering you slightly before going out and sliding your moist lips into your intimacy, not entering. " Shit…"

Neteyam’s smell was intoxicating, like a dangerous drug that made you addicted to every breath or word that made you want more. Close your eyes for a moment, trying to think clearly, basking in the feeling of his sweaty chest pressed against yours. His sex pressed more and more with every damn caress, and when Neteyam’s lips met your neck, he began to torment it with wet and passionate kisses. "Say it, yawnetu… Tell me how much you want me" a kiss. "Let me hear how you feel." Now his tongue was sticking up your neck, making you wince. "You know you want it so badly…" His voice was the poison you couldn’t live without. "Say it and I’ll make you feel every inch of me" now a bite under the jaw, just below the ear. "I’ve already fucked your head, let me do the same where you really need to" He blew the words on your ear, in a sensual and slow tone. You were cracking and he knew it, it was hard to plead once, the second time it wouldn’t be easy. You were afraid to scream like you did before, but you wanted to scream for him, feel him inside pushing and taking over your body. "I know you like this, y/n" you sighed heavily at his words. "The adrenaline, the tension, the jealousy… the fear of being seen while I’m buried between your legs and you moan my name, begging for more. That makes it fun, and it turns you on." Two fingers accompanied his member to press against your clitoris, making you groan and arch your back, as he began to rub slowly. "You know you want me so bad as much as I want you. And I will have you. I will take you here and make you scream like nobody… not even Aonung. So, baby, stop resisting now and ask me." he ordered you, and you broke.

"Please… fuck me." You whispered, looking into his eyes with longing. Pride had left your body, and Neteyam smiled victorious, and then entered you easily, making you wince.

You whined as you felt your sex burn, widening to welcome its warmth. Neteyam kept you pinned against the sand as he began to push his member deep into you with brutal and merciless blows. He would pull back his pelvis and then push his member hard into you, touching your fragility. He kept pushing again and again… relentless, rude and almost savage, making you scream with pleasure at every stroke. A hand wrapped around your throat, stroking it with your thumb as you whimpered and he got excited at every tear of pleasure. "So sweet when you cry for my dick" You prayed that this moment would last as long as you could, feeling perfectly stuck with him. His hoarse groans and growls made you more needy, and every time his tip pressed against your weak spot, you arched your back feeling that you could welcome him better. Suddenly you came back to reality when he bit your lips as he slammed wildly at you, eating every scream or groan as your hands clung to his strong shoulders, scratching them and leaving bruises. His lunges were increasingly fierce, more focused at the point where you felt your excitement increase, as he leaned slightly to you, rubbing your bodies. Your excitement that slid down with every movement, unable to hold back the deep moans that Neteyam caused you, making you shudder. Your wet walls squeezed it and wrapped it with softness, allowing him to hit you deeper and deeper with more decisive strokes, until you felt close to orgasm again. You swear as Neteyam came out of you, leaving you a gap that was hard to fill except with him.

He took you from your hips after sitting, and placed you on him, clutching your soft flesh. You immediately sat on him, welcoming him back into you as you rode the high of both, your hands on his shoulders as your mouth left bites and hickeys on his neck, continuing to scratch his skin. Neteyam’s hands wrapped around your breast and ass, holding both with possession and desire, leaving some well-poised spanking that made you moan and sway more over him, feeling pleasure in his delicate ways. You felt heavy above him and you could get him to hit deep, moving to the places you most needed while some of his fingers slipped over your clitoris to stimulate him as you moved spasmodically. You leaned slightly backwards as you slammed your hips on him, feeling his tail wrap around your leg, squeezing it as he continued his movements to make you orgasm once more. You felt the heavy legs and the rest of the light body, following the rhythm you had decided, only managing to groan above him, whining about having more, as if you were not in charge in that position. He admired you, your body, as you sweated in pleasure, your whining and those drops of dew that bathed you the tanhì. He thought while you were grinding his dick.

At one point you could feel your body slipping out of your hands, and for a moment you lost touch with what was around you, the surging waves in the background, the hoarse groans and grunts, the wet beach and the moonlight illuminating your bodies. You arrived at your second orgasm, feeling your mind free, your muscles relaxed and a strong pleasure and well-being invading every inch of your body. Your movements did not stop, continuing to ride him, wanting to feel him inside you to the last, Applying his manhood as he had appropriated you. He squeezed your breasts, continuing to play with your clit, growling softly "Yawne… if you keep this up-" he whispered before being stopped by you. Your blushed face, swollen lips, and delicate scent had left him speechless even before you shut him up. "Shut the fuck up." You growled as you lowered your head, gripped by impetus and lust, continuing your rapid movements, squeezing your walls around him as his hands left bruises and scratches on your hips, guiding you on your high until it came inside you. His cum was hot inside you, filling you up until you almost feel stuffed. His orgasm was stronger than yours, his voice was hoarse in the groan he released, holding you to him.

You let yourself go on his chest, leaving his member buried in you as your moods mingled and descended upon your bodies. You closed your eyes as you took long breaths and still felt chills and spasms running through your body because of the orgasm you just had. Neteyam’s hand went up your back and then stroked your hair, leaving you to rest exhausted on him. "You were great, ma yawne" he said, leaving a kiss on your head, stroking your curls and smiling satisfied as he looked at your body full of his marks. You were his. "Is that what you say to everyone?" You answered, as you snuggled in need of affection, looking for his sweet touch. "No, that’s what I say to you. You are mine, these are words only for you, yawnetu." He said, lifting your face, leaving kisses on your face. "And after tonight, so will the Skxawngs looking at you. You’re my property." He said looking you in the eye, making you nod. You were still drunk from the double orgasm, from the fact that his cock was still inside you and from his grip. You were broken, in fact, it was always you, but without that pride you had. He tamed you, now you belonged to him and he belonged to you, he knew it. "Baby, I swear. Try what you did tonight again, and I won’t go easy on you like today" You opened your eyes, looking in disbelief. "Easy?! This seemed to you to 'go esay'?!" you gasps as you noticed his sneering smile, his hand caressing your face as you blush. "Aw, baby. Did you think this was my best?" He approached your ear, licking it slightly, making you feel shivers down your back. "That’s not even half of what you’re gonna feel with me."

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Notes II:

Idk, but I liked writing this One shot, I think I’m slightly improving the smuts skills and I’m so happy about it. I hope you enjoyed reading <3

-Mel

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TAG LIST : @riatesullironalite @shadowmoonlight0604

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pyreo · 7 months

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was sweeping up some map completion for a gift of exploration and just got reminded of so many cool things I like about original gw2/worldbuilding

I love Orr and how weird and alien it is. The ambience of sitting there with everything damp, dripping, made of coral, literally a lost world that doesn't fit above water any more. I love how oily the sky is and that occasionally a huge shadow sweeps over you as something like Blightghast/other risen dragons go by overhead. I love that it looks like this

It's so otherworldly. I especially like the eerie birdcalls (I know it's just a real bird I'm not used to, but it's so unique and strange)

I like that the end of the Pact storyline doesn't feel... hopeful. At all. Orr is blighted and diseased, mottled with decay, with lost journals from people who were never going to survive. I like that the story culminates here, grandiose but mournful. You're trying again but this place you're in was already lost, with thousands of lives, and it doesn't feel like triumphant reclaiming. I like that none of the game through these >10 years has really framed oncoming war, and fighting to survive, with glory. I like that the fight through Orr doesn't really feel righteous. It's no clash against a tyrant or something with belief in good over 'evil'. It's just sad. Trying to get through and survive it.

I like the clearly LOTR-emulating Orr music, particularly how this one goes into a male chorus at the end-

youtube

I like how an entire map is called Malchor's Leap and that clues you in to it being named after something and then you can go find out and it's just even more depressing. But at the same time, it reiterates the history of Orr - that human gods lived there and it must have been full of incredible splendour and that's gone and you will never see it, you can only try to imagine based on the wrecks of cathedrals.

And speaking of the human gods, I just like how each race has their own take on religion and they all get something tailored to their outlook. Nobody disputes one religion over the other like in our world - each one is generally assumed to be true on some level, and in some cases, provably real, but each race gets something different from their history and belief system anyway. Humans used to live alongside their gods but have been abandoned and none of them know why (and we eventually do find out what happened). Norn can invoke a governing spirit from any creature alive and choose the one that they'll serve best, but these spirits can be killed and you can see what happens when they mourn them. Sylvari have a stone of commandments from their long-dead benefactor that has completely fucked up their society because they aren't sure if following the tenets is wise or brainwashing. Asura actually believe there is an equation that can solve the entire universe and everything is part of a grand scheme beyond knowing, which is something more like a philosophy than religion but deserves mentioning because it means the Intellectual Goblin Race weren't made into cut and dry atheists as a cliche. They believe in something and have personal interpretations about it. One of them even made a machine to make the Eternal Alchemy viewable that drove someone insane when they used it and I just like how things asura do tend to backfire.

And the Charr. I mean. They're the atheists and it's all because they were duped into technically following a human god for a while and they're never going to get over-- no, wait. They started getting over it and the Flame Legion integrated with regular society again after their leader was deposed, because things moved forward and changed, and I like that too.

I feel like I can talk and talk on and on about this fictional history because it... just.... works? It's all part of a tapestry of cause and effect and meaningful characterisations. And they deliberately set up the basis for their playable races and then made the story NPCs generally turn those expectations around - Caithe being a grief-ridden assassin, Rox being a superstitious oddball, Zojja being irrational, Canach starting out as a pompous asshole.

I like the Ceera is still around in HoT and if you took the personal story route where her husband died, she still hasn't forgiven you and never does.

I loved Zafirah (bring her back!) showing that badly rooted spirituality can be redirected into something healthy and healing without being negated.

I like how many NPCs show up as part of a story step and you can ask if you know them and they'll say oh, yeah I was in the Pact with that whole thing? Or 'I saw you from a medical tent in maguuma and didn't think I'd make it', constant callbacks and the sense that minor characters have a continuous existence independent of you.

I like how solemnly the game takes its wins. The initial campaign against Zhaitan makes sure to kill characters off and made bringing Destiny's Edge along to it feel like its own entire obstacle. Heart of Thorns smashes any confidence the Pact has after the base game and takes an intentional sacrifice to be won, and I still think about him. Going after a literal god in Path of Fire costs you your life. Going after Kralkatorrik, with Destiny's Edge's guilt weighing on you, costs you your own child. Saving the fate of the world by fulfilling the exact conditions for Aurene to ascend costs you your child again, being taken from you so that the whole world stops rocking on its axis, losing your baby as she turns into a deity. Icebrood Saga puts you in the shoes of a relatable, easygoing crew on the opposing side, then sits back and waits for you to kill them all to continue. When you fight the final dragon as the final boss in Dragon's End you don't want to kill her at all, and she begs you to leave and get away so she won't harm you while you try, in bitterness and desperation, to end her unfathomably long life.

And the entire short but brilliant arc with Joko made sure we don't really feel empowered or just about the choices we've made.

It's just. Been really fucking good.

#gw2 #long post

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theladybarnes · 1 month

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CRIMSON AND CLOVER: CHAPTER SIX

"Got me stressed out. It's not even my girlfriend.”

▸ summary: it’s a mental game to get out of woods, and you need help bringing yourself back to earth. ▸ characters: steve harrington, eddie munson,dustin henderson, ft. robin buckley & max mayfield ▸ word count: 12.6k ▸ warnings: angst, semi-fluff, SMUT (MINORS DNI +18), mentions of death ▸ series masterlist

“Flay this, you ugly piece of shit!”

Your surroundings blurred as you stumbled against the railing in front of you. The air was thick with bitter smoke, and the distant cracking of fireworks reverberated through the air. You’ve been here before. This was Starcourt Mall.

The night you all faced the Mind Flayer.

In disbelief, you watched as your friends frantically threw fireworks at the colossal creature on the ground floor. Their faces etched with determination and words filled with anger. The Mind Flayer writhed and snarled from below. Whipping its gaze at all the directions the attacks were coming from.

A surge of confusion swept over you. How the hell were you back here? Was this a dream? It had to be. The mall, the flayer– it all felt too surreal to be real. Yet, the vividness of the moment, the heat of the fireworks, and the urgency in your friends' voices made it impossible to dismiss as just imagination.

There was a lull in the attack that you were able to hear your name being called out.

The voice was unmistakable. Billy.

His desperate cries echoed through the chaos, adding to the overwhelming sense of dread. Slowly, you approached the edge of the railing to peer down below.

"Help me! Babydoll, please!” His desperate pleas cut through the chaos. “Don't let it get me!"

Your gaze locked onto the unfolding horror below as one of the Mind Flayer's tendril arms snaked around Billy, pulling him helplessly toward its gaping mouth. Billy's terrified screams resonated through the air, pleading for salvation. Your heart pounded in your chest, urging you to move quickly. But an invisible force seemed to paralyze you, rendering you powerless to intervene.

As the monstrous entity snarled at Billy, the scene descended into a nightmarish mess. Walls turning dark red with the light slowly fading to the center of the room. Unable to witness his gruesome fate again, you fell backward in fear, the world around spiraling into darkness.

However, the horror didn't end there.

Your friends, done with their attack to the flayer, all slowly crowded towards you. Surrounding you in a circle of their judgmental gazes before they pointed down to you. Shouting out their accusing cries. "WHY WON’T YOU SAVE HIM?" they demanded in a chorus of eerie, distorted voices. The weight of their accusations pressed upon you, suffocating you with guilt and terror that kept you on the floor. It gave them a better chance to close in on you as they shouted out more claims.

“HE LOVED YOU!”

“HE WANTED YOU!”

HE DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!”

Your jaw slacked at their words. Confusion in the mix of your fear as you tried to reach out to them. Hands shaking as you pleaded for them to realize the truth. “I didn’t want him to die! I don’t want anyone to die!”

Surely your friends would never think that about you. They had to know!

Amidst the continuing cries, was one familiar voice shouting at you. Steve, who was silent until now, emerged from the nightmarish crowd, his face contorted with anguish as he kneeled down beside you.

"Why won't you save us?" He asked desperately, hands cupping around your shoulders. “You’re leaving us to die!”

When you didn’t say anything back he began to glare at you, words coming out in a spit as he gripped hard against you. “WHY WON’T YOU SAVE US?” His final yell echoed across the whole mall and in a final surge of terror, the world around you collapsed.

You jolted awake, gasping for breath as you forward. The world around me blurred as you slapped down against the dashboard. It took you a second to realize that you weren’t just sitting on the mall floor but in a moving car.

“Thank God!”

Eddie, who looked as sick as you felt, was behind the wheel, driving erratically as if the police were hot on your heels. Chrissy's contorted body flashed in your thoughts, reminding you of the horror you had just witnessed in the trailer.

"Jesus Christ, slow down, Eddie!" you croaked out, voice tinged with a mix of fear and anger. "What the hell happened? Where are we?"

Eddie's eyes darted toward you for a moment, his hands white as he held on the steering wheel tightly. "We didn’t have a choice, okay? We needed to get out of there before whatever killed Chrissy came for us too!”

“B-but she’s back there!” you cried out, heart torn between the urgency of escape and the idea of abandoning Chrissy alone. “We can't just leave her there alone like that!"

"We can't get caught up in this," Eddie insisted, frustration etched across his face. "You think anyone will believe I didn't have anything to do with it? Freak of the town, ring a bell?!"

The reality of the situation hit you like a punch to the gut. But that was slowly pushed back when you realize just how far out of the main part of town you guys are at. You reached out to Eddie’s arm, tugging at it quickly.

“Eddie, tell me you’re not leaving town.”

“All right, I’m not leaving town.” he said sarcastically, pressing down harder onto the pedal. The road began to blur and you could feel the anxiety grow in the pit of your stomach.

“We cannot leave town, Eddie! Turn back!” you urged.

His gaze shifted away, guilt and fear written all over his face. "Look, I know it’s bad. But I–we can’t risk it. Not when we don’t even know what the hell happened!”

“It doesn’t matter! Turn back now!” The two of you are so busy glaring at each other that you both failed to notice the van veering off the road. "Shit, watch out!" you shouted as you finally registered what was about to happen.

Eddie tried his best to press down on the brake and slow down the speed of the van, but to your horror, it only skidded over the long grass of Hawkin’s massive forest. Panic surged through you as the van rushed towards a tree, and you braced for impact.

The world blurred as the van crashed through the underbrush, the sound of crunching metal and snapping branches deafening. In the midst of the chaos, you clung to your seat, desperate for it to stop. It wasn’t until one final forward thrust that the van finally stopped. Leaving you gasping for air again.

The scene felt oddly familiar to your own car accident years ago. But there’s no flashing lights, and your father wasn’t on his way to help you. The only thing waiting for you was the looming dark forest that swallowed up the lights from the headlights.

"Shit," Eddie's voice trembled with fear as he finally released his tight grip from the wheel. "Someone’s gonna see this. Come on, we can't stay here."

He threw open the door, while you stumbled out. The world spun wildly and it took you a minute to control the overstimulating thoughts and memories flooding your brain to register that Eddie was in front of you now. “I-I can’t..” you whimpered, hands reaching out to him.

You closed your eyes, feeling his hands cup around the sides of your face as he waited for you to calm down. It was only a second later that you opened them again to see the look of concern on his face. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, shaking his head. “We still have to go.”

Reaching down for your hands, he made sure to lace them together before he led the two of you away from the van towards the trees. “Wait, shouldn’t we go back on the road?” you asked, trying to keep up with his pace. The uneven forest floor beneath your feet felt foreign and slippery. Making it hard to try and keep up with your friend who had now moved on to mumbling to himself.

"Eddie, slow down! I don't know these woods!" you cried out, breath catching in your throat.

He didn't hear you, or maybe he didn't care. Eddie was on a mission, leading the two of you deeper into the wilderness. "I know a safe place, just keep up!"

But the dense foliage and the unfamiliar terrain took on your already unsteady balance. You stumbled over a protruding root, hands reaching out to break the fall. The grass was moist beneath your fingers and you took a second to close your eyes to stop the world from spinning again. Eddie continued on without noticing, his footsteps fading in the distance while you struggled to regain footing.

"Eddie! Wait!" you called out. The only response was the eerie silence of the woods. Taking a few long strides in, you called out for your friend again, hoping your voice was loud enough to break through the trees.

“EDDIE!”

It’s only a matter of seconds before you’re lost, alone, and terrified. Still, you picked yourself up, desperately searching through the thicket for any sign of your friend. The trees loomed like shadows, and panic clung to you like a suffocating shroud. He couldn’t have just left you behind right? But the more you walked, the louder you called out, the more you were hit with the realization.

You were stranded in a place you didn’t know, alone without your friend, and cold from the night sky. But the worst part of all, was the light echoes of a ticking clock in the distance.

Exhausted and disoriented, you stumbled into the main street of town as the evening sun began to break through the trees. Your clothes were damp, feet sore from your terrible choice in shoes, and body shivering from the cold night in the woods.

It’s not like you had any choice. With the road being too dangerous at that time of night to hitchhike, your only other safe solution was to tough the walk through the woods and hope you’d find the outskirts of town soon enough.

You’re embarrassed to say that despite your usual sense of direction, you managed to circle around the woods a few times. Making your arrival into town at a much later time than you’d have preferred. But at least you were back. Better than another night trying to ignore the various noises and whispers the woods had to offer to you.

It wasn’t like you had any help at all considering that at no point in the night did Eddie try and find you.

Still, you pulled through and despite the sleepiness, the hunger, and the aches, you were determined to get yourself home. But that plan seemed to come with a few complications.

With every store you passed, every street corner, the townspeople of Hawkins seemed to be highly aware of how out of place you looked right now. One glance at the hardware store window and you were shocked to find just how disheveled and weary you looked, confirming your guesses to their curious gazes.

You had to get home. You needed to get Dustin and figure out what to do about this mess.

So without wasting time, you made your way towards the bus stop that stopped nearest to your house. But just as you were about to ask around for some possible bus fare, there was a loud honk that caught your attention.

“Honey!?”

You turned on your heel, scanning through the small group of passengers to try to find the familiar voice calling out to you. Around the corner of the block stood Steve. Your eyes met and you could see that along with the worrisome look on his face was a bit of shock. Possibly from your appearance.

The two of you don’t waste a second to make your way to each other. Steve even went as far to run over to you before he stood before you.

"What the hell happened to you? Dustin told me he hasn’t seen you since yesterday. Are you okay?" His eyes scanned over your figure, possibly trying to find an injury that matched with your current state of appearance. Without waiting for an answer, he pulled you into his arms, letting his hand cradle the back of your head as he pressed your face into his chest.

You couldn’t help it as you allowed yourself to hug him back. Seeking comfort in his arms after the night you had. The scent of his cologne and heat from his chest felt amazing against your cold skin and it wasn't until he pulled back that you realized you were shaking from the weather.

He quickly shed off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, providing a better warmth over your shivering arms. He was still waiting for you to answer, only raising a brow to you as he cupped the side of your cheek gently.

There’s a weak attempt at trying to smile. To let him know that you were okay. But you weren’t. At least mentally you weren’t. Not when you couldn’t stop replaying the events that happened just last night. It only felt even more overwhelming now that you had Steve of all people worried over you again. “I’m sorry.” you croaked, unable to stop the guilt from coming through. “We got in an accident and then we–I got lost in the woods."

Steve's eyes widened in disbelief. "Accident? Lost in the woods? What were you doing out there? Are you hurt?" He glanced around, noticing that there were a few people eavesdropping into the conversation. He carefully pulled you away from the bus stop towards the other direction. “Did he do this? Did Eddie do this?”

"No,” you answered right away, not needing for that vine to tangle up in this mess. “I can't explain everything right now. It's complicated," you replied, voice shaky from exhaustion. "Please..I just need to get home.."

For a moment he looked even more worried if possible, but instead of pressing on, he merely rubbed his thumb against the apple of your cheek before nodding his head.

"Alright, Honey.” Steve said more softly now, gesturing towards his car. “Let’s get you home." His concern was genuine, and despite the awkwardness that should be between the two of you, the only thing you could feel from Steve now was comfort.

And that was all you’d focus on right now.

It didn’t take long for Steve to get you home. In fact, you’re pretty sure he broke the speed limit a couple of times on the road. Not that you’d press him about it right now. All you wanted was to get inside your house. Where you could hopefully recollect yourself into a person again.

Despite being in the comforts of being around Steve, you were still finding it hard to come back down from the overwhelming anxiety that still ached inside of you. It was almost like you were stuck on autopilot as you exited the car.

Steve was quick to return to your side. Gentle like before as he wrapped an arm to lead you towards the front door. A glance up and you can see him sporting his frustrated frown despite the kind voice he used with you.

A step to the front door and you could hear the phone ringing inside, blaring loudly into the empty home “My key.” you whispered softly to yourself, trying to check over the pockets of your dirty dress. But all your things were gone. You’re not even sure when or where you’ve managed to lose everything.

“It’s okay.” Steve reassured you, carefully letting go to walk over to the potted plants your Aunt had placed this past summer. “The spare’s right here.”

You watched quietly as Steve moved over a ceramic frog to reveal the hidden key. It was just a couple of months ago, before the end of Summer, that you had revealed its secret spot to him. Telling him he was more than welcomed to use it any time he needed to.

He had joked that you might get tired of his surprise visits if he had a way in every time. You happily told him that it’d be impossible, but if he really wanted to surprise you, there was always your bedroom window.

“Come on,” he said, pulling you out of the memory. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

As the two of you entered the home, you glanced around with uncertainty. Unsure of where you should even start on your previous night considering the heavy load it came with. But before either of you could even touch on the subject, the shrill ring of the phone interrupted the silence again.

Steve held a hand up, quietly offering to take the call as he picked up the phone from the small table.

He muttered out a half greeting before sighing deeply. “Yeah, she’s here.” he said calmly to the receiver. "Yeah, I found her near Main… No, she's not hurt, I think, just shaken up… I don't know what happened, man. She hasn’t had a second to really explain..”

You could hear the muffled voice of Dustin on the other end, bombarding Steve with questions you’re sure he doesn't have many answers to. Steve glanced over his shoulder, noting you quietly observing him before he motioned for you to go clean up. “Go ahead, I’ll be here when you get out.” he whispered.

With that reassurance, you gave him a quick nod, grateful for his patience, and headed towards the bathroom. Once you closed the door and undressed yourself, you finally got the chance to really check over your appearance. The mirror reflected a face unfamiliar to you. One that wasn’t its usual confident self, but of someone who was scared.

You didn’t like looking at that face.

Shielding your gaze away from the mirror, you quickly stepped in started up the shower.

The hot water felt good as it cascaded over you. Washing away any dirt and grime that clung to your skin from the long night in the woods. That and the loofah you were scrubbing hard against your skin. Every swipe of sudsy soap would reveal a red burning skin that let you know it was fresh and clean.

“Chrissy! Wake up! CHRISSY!”

You nearly dropped the bottle of body wash from your hands as your mind flashed over the haunting images from before. The harsh, supernatural force that took Chrissy’s body so effortlessly as she hung in the air like a puppet. The sounds of her bones breaking echoed above the noisy shower.

Eddie’s screams came into your mind, almost like speakers pressed against your ears and you dropped everything to cover them up. Muttering for them to just go away. But it won’t stop. Every attempt to focus was met with the flashbacks that persisted. Each replay was more vivid than the last. The flash image of Chrissy's contorted body, the way her eyes sunk into her head, it all made you feel trapped in a nightmare from which there was no escaping.

You gotta get out.

You have to leave.

You need to RUN.

“Honey?”

The clear sound of Steve’s voice brought everything to halt. Your eyes snapped open to watch as a hand reached past the shower curtain to turn off the water, cutting off the remaining sound in the room. Hesitantly you pulled back the plastic curtain a bit to peek out.

Steve was standing there, concern etched on his face again, but this time with his eyes cast down to avoid your naked form while he held up a towel.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly. There’s a vulnerability in his voice that was unexpected, and you nodded as you reached out for the towel to wrap around yourself.

Finally he glanced back at you, giving you a once over as his hand extended out for you while carefully helping you exit the shower. With a small gesture towards the door, he helped usher you over to your bedroom.

The amount of patience and kindness that Steve was giving you today had your emotions turning erratic again. The mixture of your previous fear along with the current gratitude and embarrassment that came from having him see you like this.

Once in the room, he let go of you, almost turning to leave before he sighed and returned back before you. Having had enough of the uneasy silence.

"I need to know what’s going on, Trouble. I know you were there in the trailer. What happened?”

His eyes searched at yours for answers. But you found yourself hesitating, unsure of how to put it into words. Despite Steve being completely aware of things such as the upside down, hell, even your past, this was the one time it felt..unreal.

"I don’t know if you’ll believe me, Steve. It’s..unlike anything we’ve seen.” you stammered, voice barely above a whisper. His concern deepened, and he urged you to continue with a light nod.

"Chrissy... she..." You struggled to find the right words, your mind still clouded with only flashes of what you had witnessed. "She was taken by this force, this... I don't even know how to describe it. It just pulled her in the air..it twisted her, Steve. It was so fast..in mere seconds she was gone and crumpled to the ground. I've never been so terrified in my life."

You didn’t even realize you were crying until Steve had stepped over to wipe at your cheeks. His face was even more grave than before as he looked down at you. He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours, and said, "You’re safe now. You’re not there anymore.”

“But safe from what, Steve? We don’t even know how or why it happened!” you whispered, feeling your throat choke up as the emotions you had been holding finally poured out. “One minute she’s just there inside with Eddie, and the next I hear screaming and she’s not talking! She was here but gone at the same time.”

Steve moved to wrap his arms around you, pulling you back into his chest to stop from shaking. “Did he say anything?..Do you know if he?..”

“No, Eddie didn’t do this, Steve!” you pulled back from the hug to look up. “He was just as terrified as I was..it wasn’t him. I-I swear!”

“I believe you, it’s okay.” he said quickly, noticing your sudden panic. But it's too late and you’re feeling the air around you turn thick, unable to get it in your lungs.

“I can’t breathe, Steve!” You gasped, moving your hands to grip tightly at his arms. His presence alone was keeping you grounded before, but everything seemed to be crashing down at this moment. Your attempts to breathe mixing with crying only made things worse.

“Breathe with me.” He shushed, pushing his forehead to press against yours. The palms of his warm hands wrapped around your shoulders and he tugged you closer to keep you from getting any colder.

But the fear persisted, and your sobs grew louder. It was then that Steve cupped at your face and planted a soft but deep kiss to your lips. Catching you off guard enough that your mind frazzled into focusing only on the touch of his skin to yours before he pulled back.

"Why did you..." you began to ask, voice trailing off.

"I just needed to help bring you back down to me," Steve whispered, his eyes searching yours. Almost as if he were afraid he had crossed a line. The two of you silently shared a moment of silence before you gave a quick nod.

"Right," you managed to say, still grateful despite the unconventional method.

Steve remained close to you. "Are you?" he asked calmly.

“Am I what?”

“Here with me?”

When you don’t answer, he sighed softly, enveloping you in his arms. The natural heat of his body called out to you and you reached out to hold onto him desperately. Seeking all the familiar comforts that came with Steve. The scent of his cologne, the warmth of his skin, the cotton of his shirt. It was impossible for you not to inhale all of it.

He rested his chin against the side of your head, holding you tightly as his arms traced soothing patterns across the bare skin that peeked on the top of the towel. Something inside you is sparked and any sane conscious thought is out the window.

You don’t want to feel this fear anymore. You just want to feel like yourself again.

Even if just for a moment.

Pulling away, you reached up, brought his face close and kissed him.

It was nothing like the shared kiss you had moments before. It was intense. Needy. All the emotions that the two of you seemed to share as you both clung onto one another.

His hands trailed down from your back to rest at your hips. The tip of his fingers dug lightly as he attempted to control whatever urge he had. Your own hands had the same problem as they crawled up to tangle in the ends of his soft hair. Tugging hard enough that caused him to groan against your lips. He broke the kiss apart to pull back.

“We’re being stupid right now, aren’t we?” he asked, hot breath fanning over you.

“Yeah,” you breathed, eyes flicking down to his pink lips. “Incredibly stupid.”

Reaching down between your bodies, you pulled the towel off from your skin, giving him a full view of yourself.

He sucked in a sharp breath at the sight, eyes scanning down your body that had you flushed. Nodding his head to himself, he reached and grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you again.

Frantically, his own desperation kicked in and he doesn’t even give himself a second to properly shed off his own clothing. Making you have to be the one to pull back and help strip him down. Once he was down to nothing, he resumed pressing his lips against yours. Using one of his hands to cradle the back of your head and the other to press your body against his.

The contrast of your cold body to his hot one had you both shivering as you stumbled backwards towards the bed. It wasn’t until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed that he carefully pushed you to lay down.

Your back met with the comforter of your bed quickly and you gazed up to watch as Steve slowly came onto the bed, kneeling just before your legs. Though you’re both naked and practically panting with want, there’s a small flicker of concern on his face again.

“Say it,” he begged, voice slightly cracked from being out of breath and from the hurt that lingered in his tone. “Say that you want this too.”

“I want this.” you nodded, spreading your legs open for him. His eyes widened at the sight of you. His hand instantly reached out to rub down the expanse of your bare thigh. Your heart began to beat rapidly at the dark desire that flickered in his gaze. “I want you, Steve.”

He groaned at that, leaning down so that he could lay on top of you. His lips were back onto yours once again, tracing his tongue at your lips until you parted yours and allowed him the chance to swirl it against yours. The sensation had you feeling lightheaded. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, fingers digging lightly into his bare skin.

The light graze of his hardened cock brushing lightly against your inner thigh had you jumping back in surprise. Pulling back from his kiss, you looked down between the two of you, reaching down and taking hold of his member in your hands.

“Fuck, honey.” Steve whimpered, “It’s been so long.”

The tip of his cock was already red, aching to be touched and dripping with excitement. The pad of your thumb swirled over the glaze of precum. You used its slickness to help glide your hand over the base of his member. Jerking it up and down lightly while you watched Steve’s face for his reaction.

He emitted a sweet moan that had you biting down on your lip to keep from joining him. His hips jerked with every tug you gave and you knew it wouldn’t be long for him to take control again. So you enjoyed your time, leaning down his neck to kiss at his hot skin while you worked him to a full erection.

“I’ve missed this.” you muttered softly, kissing up the line of freckles and moles that adorned his neck.

“Me too.” he gritted, hands now gripped at your hips to control himself from thrusting into your fingers. “But I’ve missed something else even more.”

One of his hands pulled away from your side so that he could release himself from your hold and slide down until they reached your aching core. The slick glaze of your arousal spread quickly over his fingers, giving him the chance to swirl around your folds.

“Steve,” you whimpered, feeling already so sensitive and desperate for release. Any more of the simple touches and you were embarrassed to say you’d come undone easily. “I need you.”

“You have me.” he promised, as. he brought the tips of his fingers up to his mouth, sucking any bit of you that was left on them. “All of me.”

With that he reached between you and easily guided his aching erection to glide against your slick folds. Teasing not only himself but you in the process as he worked you two up. You leaned up on your elbow to pull him down again, pressing your lips together as your hips instinctively thrust upward to him.

He didn’t break the kiss, but he did stop his hips in time to finally press the tip of his cock at your entrance and slowly thrust in. The walls of your pussy reacted instantly to his member again. Tightening around his long thick size until he was fully sheathed inside of you.

Shocked, you gasped and looked up at him, eyes clouded with a familiar desire. It had been quite some time since you’ve felt this full and with every small nudge, Steve managed to bottom his way in. “God, you’re so tight,” he shuddered, bucking his hips for a moment before he wrapped an arm around the side of your waist. “So hot and tight for me.”

“Steve,” you whimpered, hips rolling on their own accord before you forced your body to relax. “I need, fuck, I need–” you begged, practically desperate for him to make any movement now.

“Need what, honey?” he said, moving his hands to place down at your hips, a small thrust to get you moving a little. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“Move.” you said finally, nails digging into his shoulders now.

That was all he needed to hear before he began to move again. He slid out- and back in, with more force this time, causing you to shudder beneath him. The pleasure was strong this time, possibly with how desperate you’ve become since entering the room. You leaned up, clinging around his arms to hold him close.

Every part of his warm body felt like a cover from the world. A cover from the dread that wanted to eat at you that only he seemed to be able to pull you out of. It was all you wanted to focus on, all you could focus on.

Steve dropped his face into your neck, murmuring something against your skin before he kissed at the flesh gently. “Yours.” he said eventually, another thrust back. He picked his head back up to look down at you. One arm had you pressed close to his body, making you feel every part of him while the other leaned on his elbow to give him a chance to look down at you. “I’m yours.”

You gazed up into his eyes, one hand letting go of his shoulders to cup at his cheek. “Mine.” you agreed, pressing your lips to his.

His pace quickened up at that, goading him into another set of emotions.

You wrapped legs around his waist. Keeping yourself from moving away from him as his quick thrusts that pushed you higher up in the bed. His name fell past your lips in a long moan, unable to think of any other words. It was like all you could do was think and speak his name.

Whether it be from your shifting feelings, or the fact that Steve was going at such a fast pace, the two of you seemed to be closer to your release than expected. He dropped his head down, pressing a few loving kisses to the apex of your breasts. He groaned your name against the pebble of your breast, nipping at the sensitive bud before he returned back to your face. Kissing your lips and cheeks over and over until he had to pull back to breathe again.

“I can’t hold on much longer, baby.” you warned, leaning up to press a kiss to his shoulder.

“Me either.” he nodded, taking a quick pause to look down at you. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but settled with dropping down to meld your lips once again. One of his hands let go of your waist to slip between the two of you, and you soon felt the familiar pad of Steve’s thumb press against your clit.

Without a wasted second, he began to roll the sensitive bud in a circular motion while thrusting into you at a more brutal pace.

The whole world is gone and all you could feel now was the intense orgasm as it washed over your body. Back arching up to him as you cried out in ecstasy against his lips. Your palms clasped his back, pressing yourself even more if possible to meet up with his final thrusts.

He whimpered into your lips, pulling back to allow his face to fall against your neck and catch his breath while he shot his cum into your core. The thrusts slowed down and soon enough you only rolled your hips lightly against him to ride out the rest of the euphoria with him.

It was only a second that the two of you said nothing. Both of you seemingly unsure how to process the intensity that the sex brought.

His head lifted back up, looking down at you intently before gently pulling himself out of you. The sudden pressure change had you let out a small whimper and Steve returned to leaning back on his knees. His gaze was locked over your figure and you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed to look so wrecked.

But Steve doesn’t seem to think the same thing as he gently reached down, caressing the skin of your thighs. “You’re beautiful.” he said aloud, “So damn beautiful.”

Something sparked inside of you. Maybe the sincerity of his words, or the selfish need to be taken out of that deep sinking feeling that had its grip on you lately. Or maybe it was just because you wanted Steve and to ignore the reality that was outside the doors.

“Steve?” you asked softly, leaning up on your elbows.

“Yeah?” he whispered back, looking at you with a small bit of concern again.

“I’m still not here..”

A small smile tugged at his lips before he nodded his head at you, crawling back up to climb over your body again. One of his hands crawled up this time to cup around your breast, kneading the muscle gently.

“Okay, honey. Let me try again.”

It’s embarrassing to say you two go for it another two times before you’re both satisfied. The sun was set even more into the evening and you glanced at the clock in time to see you’ve been here for over an hour.

You collapsed forward, sagging into his arms. Your chest nearly heaving as you struggled to catch your breath after all the vigorous movements you two just did. He pressed his lips to your cheek, and it burned. Like a reminder of his presence there being nothing but a burning comfort to you.

Holding your heavy breath, you stopped moving around. Allowing his arms to wrap around your body and give you the chance to savor the moment for your memory. To use it when you needed a reminder of a time you felt this content.

Eventually he helped lift your tired body up enough that he was able to pull himself out of you, hissing a bit at the cold air before he laid you to return to resting on top of him. Grabbing your bare leg, he draped over his hips and kept you close to his side so that he could use your warm skin as a cover. You gently placed your head against his chest, hand up so that you could gently run your fingers through the curls that covered his pecs. The sound of his heart beat, your favorite sound, thumped lightly in your ears.

“Talk to me.” he said before he kissed the smooth skin between your brows.

You lifted your head up to watch him. Not answering right away to gauge his reaction. He’s pretty calm considering what you two were just finished doing. Not hurt like you almost expected for him to be after having just used him. In fact, he was just looking down at you patiently, bringing a hand up to caress the side of your face while he waited.

Resting your chin on his chest, you sighed softly, not sure what to say next.

“I’m sorry.” you said hesitantly. “I know you were trying to calm me down. But I didn’t mean to just use you to make myself feel better. It was shitty of–”

“I wanted it.” he interrupted you, a firmness in his voice. You glanced back to his gaze, noting the calm was replaced with a serious look. As if he were about to lose it if you went further on with your sentence. “I needed it, actually.”

This was all so overwhelming.

The very idea that after pushing Steve away, practically forcing him and yourself to move on with others, the two of you still relied on each other to feel good in the end. You’ve never had this feeling with anyone before. It was scary. It was too real.

You opened your mouth, ready to set him up with another disappointing apology when he sprung forward to kiss you. Ceasing any words from making it past your lips as he captured the moment. Again you don’t fight against it. At this point you don’t think you can.

Down the hall, the phone sprung to life again, pulling you both back to reality. The kiss had you breathless, staring up at Steve with wide eyes because he was doing it again. He was making you question every choice you’ve ever made.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. This whole thing could be nothing..” he said, looking at you with such fondness. “It’s just us helping each other. That’s it.”

“But it isn’t nothing.” you whispered back, unable to hide the truth. “It never is with us.”

He doesn’t say anything. Only taking a glance down the hall at the phone that’s still ringing. Reaching up, you cupped at the side of his face and made him look back at you, but all that does is create a pained look on his face. Like he was torn about something.

“It’s probably Dustin.” he said eventually, reaching up to pull your hand away. “We’ve been here longer than expected. They’re probably waiting for us.”

“They?” you asked, releasing him fully from his hold so that he could climb out of the bed to gather up his scattered clothes from the floor.

“Robin, Max, and Dustin were trying to figure out where Eddie could be hiding before I left.” he said, watching you while he dressed himself. “Max saw Eddie running to his van last night in a panic. We’re gonna try and figure this out. Get his side of the story.”

The mention of Eddie brought a sad dip to your stomach. It’s been hours since the two of you had lost each other and you weren’t sure if he was okay or not. Not to mention it had been hours and he didn’t exactly seek out to find you either..

A glance up and you watched as Steve quickly fixed himself enough to look presentable. This time the guilt rolled in when you thought of the idea of Steve wasting precious time he could have been using to help with Eddie just to go out and try and find you.

“Right,” you nodded, climbing out of the bed. “We should probably go.”

He didn’t say anything at first as you began to dress yourself, pulling on underwear and a bra. But it isn’t until you’re about to reach for a shirt that he stepped over and reached out to gently grab your hand.

“No one would be upset if you wanted to sit this one out, Trouble.” he said softly, turning you to face him again. “After everything you saw and been through..we can figure something out by ourselves”

“Are you trying to say you don’t want my help?” you ask a little guarded. In all this time you two had been dealing with the kids and the upside down, Steve has never once been the one to push you out of things. Even last summer with the Russian’s invasion, he was insisting on you joining. What was different now?

“I always want you and your help.” he said as matter of fact. “But I’m not gonna be selfish and force you to come out and join us when I know there’s something going on with you.”

Just like the night before, Steve’s intuitive mind was working double time on you. But there isn’t much time left in the day to dive into that discussion and you’re worried about wasting more time by having Steve stand around and be concerned about you.

“I wanna come.” you explained calmly, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “I need to help figure this out too.”

Steve’s eyes watched you carefully, almost like he was waiting for you to crack. But when you continued to hold your gaze, he must have sensed you wouldn’t be cracking down any time. “I’ll wait in the car.” he said eventually, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek.

After that, he left you to finish getting dressed and also give you a moment to collect yourself in preparation for facing the others.

If Steve was worried enough to venture out for you, and Dustin enough to be calling the house this much, then surely the others would be just the same. And while a part of you wanted to allow them in, even just a little, there were other important things now.

Like finding where Eddie was, and figuring out just what killed Chrissy.

So with that determination, you quickly finished dressing and locked up the house on your way out. The air was chilly again and you shivered a bit as you made your way over to Steve’s car. He was adjusting the radio when you entered inside. Fiddling out with the knobs for a station that he liked.

Thankfully the heater was already on. Helping thaw out your cold bones as you buckled in. Right away your eyes caught sight of something you didn’t seem to notice before in your dazed out mind.

Wrapped around the left side of the driver’s visor, was the gold necklace. The ‘S’ dangled just enough to shine in the bit of light that was left outside. You couldn’t help but watch it quietly, not sure what to think about him still having it. Steve didn’t seem to notice where your attention was as he turned to face you.

“Ready to go?” he asked, settling on a soft rock station. You nodded your head slowly, forcing your eyes to look out towards the window.

“As I’ll ever be.”

There is no real reunion when you finally get to picking up the others. Mostly, it was Robin taking control of the line of questioning. Which you were a little bit troubled with answering right away. Mostly because you needed to hear Eddie’s half to put all the pieces together.

The rest of the car ride was spent being spooked by the empty lot that led over to Rick Lipton’s house. You recognized some of the area from the road. Recalling coming to part of town the past summer with Steve so he could show you lover’s lake.

It was bizarre to think you were supposedly near this house just last night and wound up walking all the way back into town. It added to the bitter feeling inside of you when you remembered the events again.

But there were questions that needed answers and pouting about being left behind would have to be done later.

The car was parked in the dark driveway of the Lipton house and flashlights were slowly passed around before you all made an exit of the car. Steve was quick to make his way to your door, opening it up for you and extending a hand out to help pull you out.

The moment is sweet and you squeeze his hand lightly in a silent thank you. Over his shoulder, you spot a gawking Robin who didn’t even bother to conceal the small shock on her face.

Nodding for Steve to go ahead, you hang back a moment to let Robin make her way over to you.

“So,” she chirped, “that was a pretty nice moment I saw there.”

“Yes,” you agreed, looking at her from the side of your eyes. “Steve’s been really nice to me since he found me.”

She hummed playfully, giving you a small wink. “I see. And I’m guessing he was really nice to you when you guys were at your house for over an hour.”

You hoped that your poker face didn’t crack over Robin’s comment. On top of everything going on, you didn’t need to have her teasing either one of you for what may have happened in your house. Even if she was on the right track.

“I think it was mostly me needing a minute to process everything.” you said slowly, thankful that you were able to be truthful. “Steve’s just kind enough not to rush.”

Her eyes glanced over the guy, watching as he held the flash light over towards the side of the house, inspecting the area before he sensed the pair of eyes watching his back. Turning, he glanced between the two of you. Eyes shifting worriedly before he settled with putting an awkwardly forced smile on his face.

“Dingus is something else, that’s for sure.” Robin muttered with a head shake. “Sorry if I’m pushy. Just looked like something might be sparking between you guys again.”

Guilt spread over yourself at the idea of giving another person in your life false hope over something you weren’t sure of yet. Especially Robin, who most likely just wanted her close friends to get back together again.

“We’re always gonna be close.” you tried, hoping not to sound like your feelings were swinging in any kind of way. “I’m thankful that he’s always willing to help me, even when I don’t think he should.”

“He cares about you.” She said calmly, like a reminder.

Your lips pursed and you dropped your gaze to the flashlight in your hands. “He cares about all of us, Robs.”

“Yeah, but we know it’s different with you.” she shrugged, “Enough so that he’s willing to just drop everything he's doing to leave work and find you.”

Dustin called out to the two of you to hurry up, leaving you without a chance to give out a proper response. Quickly, you both followed up behind the others to the door. All holding up a flashlight to brighten up the area.

The first ring of the doorbell was met with an awkward silence. Then the second, then the third, then fourth, and finally fifth.

You couldn't help but think that neither Rick nor Eddie would be the type of person who would happily open the door that was being rung this late at night. But, you figured vocalizing that might not help with Dustin’s current frustrations. Steve on the other hand..

“Okay. Well, that’s settled. I guess he’s not here.”

Like you expected, Steve’s skepticism only frustrated your cousin further. Causing him to change the ringing into banging. Yelling out for Eddie in hopes that his friend would come out to a friendlier voice.

“Look, we just wanna talk, okay? No cops, I swear! We just wanna help!”

To your left, you watched as Max and Robin began to scale the side of the house. Trying their best to peer into the windows of the closed off home.

“EDDIE!” Dustin continued to yell, mixing his knocking with ringing again. “RICK!...REEFER RICK!”

“Don’t scream that!” Steve chided, making you slightly amused before you moved closer to try and look through the window. The house from what you could see looked completely abandoned. Eddie considered this place to be a shelter from all the mess that had happened. So why did it seem like the place had been abandoned for a while now?

“Hey guys?” Max called out, bringing the group to leave the house and follow to where she stood.

Down her line of vision was a boat house. Eerily the only thing in the area other than the street lights to have a light on. Something in the back of your mind warned you about its creepy appearance, but considering that everything lately was getting to you, it’d be something you’d have to ignore.

So down the hill the rest of you went. Lights flashing at the dingy building as you all approached its doors slowly.

Robin took the lead this time, pushing at the door slowly as she peeked her head in. “Hello?” she called out, not fully yet stepping in. “Is anyone home?”

One by one the rest of you filed in after her. Lights aiming in different directions to showcase the inside of the place. It smelled like rusted metal, wet wood, and something else you couldn’t decipher. Forcing you to tuck your nose into the collar of your jacket to breathe in your perfume.

“What a dump.” Steve called out, a light disdain in his tone.

“Did you really expect pristine conditions from a guy called Reefer Rick?” you asked, giving him a small look. He huffed amusedly before turning around to reach over for an ore on the wall. You’re about to ask what he was planning on doing with that when he suddenly began to stab the ore into the tarp covered boat. Making you and Dustin jump a bit from the rapid movement.

“What are you doing?” Dustin gaped.

“He might be in here.” Steve answered simply, continuing with his jabbing.

“And you plan on turning him into a skewer?” you frowned, taking a step back to observe from a safe distance.

Dustin shook his head, pointing over to the boat with his hand. “Take the tarp off!”

“If you’re so brave, you take the tarp off.” Steve countered, still poking around the edges. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at their cowardice.

“Don’t you think he’d have popped out by now if he was hiding in there? You’ve practically poked a hole in the tarp.” you said, crossing your arms.

“Hey, look over here.” you heard Max call out. From the other side you watched Robin and her approach a table. Fiddling with some that had been thrown on top. “Someone was here.” she continued.

“Maybe he heard us. Got spooked and ran.” Robin suggested.

“Don’t worry,” Dustin cut in. “Steve will get him with his oar.”

You chuckled at that, finding the whole thing ridiculous while Steve went on with his work.

“I know you think you’re being funny, Henderson, but considering the fact that everyone in this room has nearly died about a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slight–”

As if he were waiting for the right moment, Eddie suddenly popped out from beneath the tarp, causing everyone in the group to jump back in fear. He shot himself forward and grabbed onto a shocked Steve and pushed them backwards until the two of them were pressed against the wall.

All of you are too shocked to react right away. It wasn’t until Dustin was pleading out to Eddie to stop that you noticed he was holding up a broken glass bottle to Steve’s neck. A flashback of Steve’s bloodied face after dealing with the Russian’s came into your mind and you found yourself panicking over his safety.

Without even a second thought you picked up one of the other oars and gripped on it tightly, sizing up behind an unknowing Eddie. Dustin called out to you next, holding a hand up as he tried to take control of the situation.

“Eddie! Eddie! It’s me! It’s Dustin!” he called out, gaining the attention of the boy. “This is Steve. He’s not gonna hurt you, right, Steve?”

You glanced over Eddie’s shoulder to watch as Steve nervously tried to respond. “Right, yeah.” he whispered, almost afraid to speak up.

“Steve, why don't you drop the oar?”

Right away he let go of the wooden piece, causing a small clanging noise to fill up the tense room. Eddie is slightly triggered by that, pinching the glass a little more against Steve’s neck and causing him to groan out. You glared at the back of Eddie’s head, ready to swing against your own friend when Dustin held a hand out to you again.

“He’s cool! He’s cool!”

“I’m cool, man. I’m cool.” he agreed in a whisper to Eddie. His eyes flickered behind the guy towards you, widening as he barely realized your attacking stance.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie grunted, never looking away from Steve.

“We’re looking for you.” Dustin answered, trying again to gain his friend’s attention.

“We’re here to help.” Robin joined in, trying to calm the tension that had risen. Eddie glanced back, probably just realizing the two girls behind Dustin now.

“Eddie, these are my friends.” he pleaded, “You know Robin, from band.” he said, gesturing to the girl behind him. Robin, while awkward, imitated the sound of her trumpet playfully. He turned to his other side and pointed over to Max. “This is my friend Max. The one who never wants to play D&D.” Max offered up her best wave, despite the nervousness that appeared on her face.

Dustin nodded over towards your direction, gulping a bit when he noticed you still were ready for the attack. “And you already know my lovely cousin,” he said, clearing his throat.

Eddie barely now registered your presence, glancing over his shoulder finally to meet your eyes. He’s shocked at your position, but still unwilling to let go of Steve right away. You made it a point to take a step closer, glaring at him as you finally spoke up. “Hiya, Ed. Remember me?”

“Eddie,” Dustin cut in, trying to bring the calmness back. “We’re on your side.” There was a flicker of hesitation on his face, making you and Dustin turn slightly more desperate the longer he held onto Steve.

“I swear on my Mother! Right guys?”

The other three shootout similar answers while you remained silent. Ready for anything.

A long heartbeat passed before he pushed away from Steve, letting him fall back against the wall with a small grunt. You tossed aside the oar and made your way to check on him when Eddie gripped at your hand.

The two of you hold eye contact and you’re unsure how to react to him calmly.

His eyes alone showed there was a lingering fear. Hell, you just saw the same eyes in your own mirror hours ago. But the mixed emotions that were going through when it came to Eddie, made it a little hard to figure out how you wanted to react.

“You’re.. okay.” he whispered, almost like he was afraid to speak aloud.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” you nodded, a frown still hard on your face. “No thanks to you.”

Tugging your hand out from his grip, you finally stepped away, ignoring the hurt look on his face as you joined Steve at his side. He was hunched over, hand rubbing lightly at his neck. You leaned down, getting close enough to inspect his neck yourself. The skin was red with a slight little nip against the spot under his jawline.

Steve smiled slightly, reaching out to place his hand on top of yours. “I’m okay.” he reassured.

“Eddie..” you heard Dustin behind you. “We just want to talk.” The two of you turned your heads to watch as Dustin lowered down to squat before Eddie. He was closing himself off to the rest of you, hand still clutching onto the bottle as he kept his gaze away.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty knowing that Eddie was probably beyond freaked out about all this. There was still such anger and hurt flowing through you. But deep down you knew you felt for Eddie too. He was still the guy who had been your friend this whole time.

Dustin tried to reach out for Eddie’s hand to take the bottle, causing him to flinch and grip onto it tighter. Robin slowly approached next, trying Dustin’s docile method as she lowered down to his eye level.

“We want to know what happened.” she said calmly. “To the both of you.”

Max glanced over at you, worry still flickered over her pale face before she glanced back to Eddie with the same expression. Steve reached out to place a hand on your back, soothingly as he nodded at you to go forward. “Tell ‘em.” he said softly to you.

Eddie sniffled a bit. “You won’t believe me.” he said, voice cracking a bit. His gaze turned to look up now and you let out a shudder at the sight of his teary eyes.

Max stood closer, giving him a light shrug as she calmly said a simple “Try us.”

Eddie was the first one to go up and recall the events of the night before. The pain, evident in his voice as he tried to describe everything in detail. Immediately your mind is plagued with the images you had seen with your own eyes. Following each part of the story that Eddie cleared out.

“..Things only got worse when I looked over to see Henderson passed out on the ground.” he said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “I..I didn’t know what to do, so I grabbed her and just..ran. I ran away. We left her– I left her there.”

Your face contorted at the painful reminder. The memory of leaving her behind still brought a heavy guilt on you that ached in your chest. Tears pinched in your eyes and you turned away from everyone to control yourself.

“But what happened to you?” Max asked when she noticed your sudden change. “How did you get separated? Steve said he found you in town by yourself.”

“I was lost all night.” you clarified, wiping the tears out from your eyes to face them. “I came to in the van when we were nearly out of town.” Eddie looked down in his hands ashamed, not meeting your gaze. “I had begged Eddie to turn back. To go someplace where we could call for help. I tried to remind him how things would be worse if he made a break for out of the state.. But that’s when we crashed.”

“Crashed?” Dustin interjected, his eyes were wide as he looked over your appearance for any scars he must have missed out on before. Steve shifted slightly beside you, eyes turning dark as he took in the new information.

“We made a break for the clearing,” you went on, anger still focused on Eddie. “I could barely grasp what had just happened, let alone follow Eddie, so it didn’t take long for me to lose him in the trees.”

“I’m sorry,” he started, hands clasped together as he shook his head. “I thought you were behind me the whole time–”

“You weren’t thinking about anything but getting yourself to safety.” you accused him, pointing a finger in his direction as you stepped forward. “I told you I didn’t know those woods at all and you just kept going!”

Eddie lifted his head up to meet your fiery gaze. “I-I didn’t mean to..I was just–”

“You were afraid?” you asked curtly, “Well so was I! I don’t have any idea what the hell killed Chrissy and the next thing I know is my friend just ditched me without even looking back!” You shook your head, feeling tears gradually make their return. “Did you even look for me?”

The room was filled with a painful silence and you had to turn your face away from Eddie before you took out more anger on him. You nearly left the room entirely, needing to get some fresh air, when you felt a hand slip into yours, stopping yourself from leaving.

“Don’t go.” Steve said gently to you. “Just take a breath.”

It felt easier said than done. But all Steve did was give you a knowing look and you settled with leaning against his side. Eyes cast down to the ground while you sucked in a sharp breath. His presence was a little calming, but you were still struggling internally.

During that bit, you could hear Eddie scoff in frustration. “Look, I can’t explain everything that I did, okay? All I can say is what I saw..it was something freaky, man.” There’s a beat of silence that had Eddie recoiling away from the group again. “You all think I’m crazy, right?”

“No. We don’t think you’re crazy at all.” Dustin reassured gently.

“Don’t bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds.” Eddie cried out, voice cracking in frustration.

Max leaned forward, keeping her voice calm and steady. “We’re not bullshitting you.”

“We believe you just like how we believe her.” Robin added, pointing a finger over at you. But it does little to relieve Eddie’s shaken state. Finally, Dustin took the lead on explaining everything.

“Look, what I’m about to tell you might be a little..difficult to take.” he started.

“..okay.”

“You know how people say Hawkins is..cursed? They’re not way off. There’s another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins. Sometimes it bleeds into ours.”

“Like ghosts and shit?” Eddie asked.

“There are some things worse than ghosts.” Max followed, trying to help pin it together for him.

“These monsters from his other world, we thought they were gone. But they’ve come back before and that’s why we needed to find you.”

Max nodded her head, glancing back at you briefly before she looked back at Eddie. “If they’re back again, we need to know.”

Dustin’s words brought a painful reminder of all the times the group has faced different monsters these past few years. From the Byers’ demogorgon, Dart and his pack of demodogs, and recently the Mind Flayer. All things that came when all of you were finally trying to get life back to normal. It wasn’t fair.

“That night, did you guys see anything?” Robin asked.

“Dark particles, maybe?”

You tried to think back, recalling the only odd rememberable thing to be the flickering lights. But just like that night, you never saw the familiar monster that broke through walls, or the growling noise of the creatures that surrounded the house, or even the thuds of a monster in the distance. It was like nothing was there and yet it killed Chrissy.

“It would almost look like dust, swirling dust.” said Dustin to Eddie, hopeful for his memory to be better than yours. But all his friend did was shake his head.

“No, man, there was nothing you could see or, uh, or touch.” he explained, looking up at you. “It was just us in there.”

You sighed frustratedly, finally giving Eddie a sparing glance. “He’s right..aside from the lights flickering it was like..she was pulled up in the air like a puppet. As if by magic.”

“We tried to wake her, man. She couldn’t move.” he added after you. “It was like she..she was in a trance or something.”

“Or under a spell.” Dustin countered.

Some sort of realization flickered over Eddie’s face. “A curse.” he said next.

“Vecna’s curse.”

Beside you, you could see Steve’s head tilted at the name. “Who’s Vecna?” he asked Dustin. Your cousin doesn’t look back to you guys, but from your spot you could see the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“An undead creature of great power.”

“A spell caster.” Eddie added, voice soft in disbelief.

“..a dark wizard.” Dustin finished off.

Suddenly, the room began to feel smaller, and the weight of this new threat pressed down on everyone. You couldn't shake the feeling that this time, it was different – that Hawkins was about to face a threat unlike anything you’ve encountered before.

The mood between everyone didn’t get much better after you and Eddie finished retelling everything.

The others took their turn in recapping all the news coverage they had been hearing throughout the day. While it was safe to say you were clear as a suspect, it didn’t mean you were out of the woods just yet. Most likely, those closest to Eddie would be next on the public’s radar. Which seemed like the easier thing to worry about considering there was this ominous Vecna to focus on.

But since things were clear for now, the rest of the group urged Eddie to continue hiding in the boat house. Promising to return the following day. It wouldn’t be safe to move him around just yet. An unfortunate circumstance that he’d have to understand for now. The only time you saw him look a little more comfortable with the idea was when Dustin promised to provide him with food the following day.

Soon after you were all back in the comforts of Steve’s car.

The two of you back in the front seat while the three in the back talked about what could be going on and where they can start tomorrow. You’d answer one of their questions now and then, but weren’t able to fully bring yourself in just yet. Considering no one wanted to be in your line of anger like in the boat house, they were very minimal in what questions they’d call out to you.

Steve, on the other hand, was silent. Still visibly stressed from the boathouse conversations. In fact, you were pretty sure he was upset with the way his jaw would clench now and then. Ever since the mini spat with Eddie, plus the reveal of what happened, he hasn’t been the same. But even then, he set aside his emotions to still offer up a ride to the others. Making sure everyone got home safely.

You watched him carefully, wondering what was going through his mind.

Today was..definitely not what he probably had planned. Especially after everything that was said the night before, then in your bedroom, and then the boat house. It wouldn’t be surprising if he didn’t crack under the pressure he seemed to be under. You wished you could help alleviate this new worry, but all you’ve done lately is add to it.

The only solid concentration he seemed to have at the moment though was driving and keeping hold of your hand.

“Okay, Steve. We’ll meet up early tomorrow. I think Eddie’s gonna need a lot of food if he’s gonna hide this out. We’ll have to go to the market before we pick up everyone.” Dustin said from the back with a yawn.

The others were already dropped off. Mumbling out tired goodnights before Steve had finally made the return back to your driveway. The engine was off and the three of you had been quiet until Dustin broke the silence.

“Sounds good, man.” he confirmed, speaking up for the first time in an hour.

With a clap to Steve’s shoulder, Dustin quickly made his leave for the car. Calling out for you to hurry up before he used his key to enter the house. Neither of you made any motion to follow through on Dustin’s warning. Only watching in silence as he entered the home.

It wasn’t until he saw the switch of the living room light on that Steve finally turned to look at you. His eyes scanned over the features of your face before he leaned in to push a hair away from your face. “You doing okay?” he asked softly.

You’re almost taken back by his quick concern. How despite all that’s happened and been said, his first question is to ask about your well being.

“I’m here.” Was the best answer you could think of at the moment. You were still pretty upset about earlier. Especially the fact that you allowed yourself to get so angry at Eddie who was clearly unfamiliar with this type of horror. But it was hard to control anything going on with you right now. A glance down and you noted how he hasn’t dropped your hand yet. “Are you? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be so..quiet before. Feels weird.”

He huffed amusedly through his nose before he shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve had a lot on my mind today. And honestly..I’m tired.”

You use your free hand to reach over and cup the side of his face. Unable to contain yourself from helping provide Steve the comfort you know he needs.

His eyes slipped close and he leaned forward enough to rest against the palm of your hand while you gently caressed. He looked as tired as he sounded, and you wanted to help provide him with the ease of a good night’s sleep.

“I never thanked you.” you murmured, watching as he peeked his eyes open to look at you. “Today you..you helped me in more ways than one.”

“I think you sort of showed me thanks already.” he countered, a little bit teasing in his tone.

“Us having sex was not my way of showing thanks.” you scoffed, only slightly amused by his words. “I mostly meant you bringing me home..and then back in the boat house. You helped calm me down.”

He reached up for your hand to bring them together before him, squeezing them lightly until he pulled them up to press a kiss to the front of your finger tips. Keeping his gaze at you until he settled them back into his lap.

“I’m always gonna be here for you, you know that right?”

The never failing sincerity of his words had you shyly averting your gaze away from his. Unsure how to deal with your own emotions as well as the ones that Steve kept bringing back. But he didn’t seem to want to wait for you to come up with an answer as he used the grip on your hands to pull you in and meet you in the middle of the console. There’s only a small space for you to decide to pull back but you ignored that thought as you pressed your lips against his.

The kiss, while breathtaking, was a lot sweeter than the ones you guys had shared today. Almost like a reassuring gesture to help ease you into ending the conversation.

“You need to get some sleep.” he urged when he pulled back for air. His plump lips were ghosting over yours now, enticing you back in despite his words saying otherwise. “After everything we need you back in shape tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you agreed, not quite moving just yet. “Promise you’ll get some rest too?”

He nodded his head, pulling himself further back so he could meet your eyes. “I’ll be here as early as I can.” Sighing heavily, you take your hands out of Steve’s grip and reach for the door handle, sparing him one last look before you exited the car.

The sound of his engine starting up cut through the silence as you made your way towards the front door of the house. You got the chance to watch as he pulled out of the driveway, waving to you before he fully pulled away and made his turn down the street.

Exhaustion covered your whole body as you turned to enter the house. You were more than ready to pass out on your bed for a couple of hours. However, there was one more person waiting to talk.

Sat down on the chair beside the couch, was a nervous Dustin. Looking over at you expectantly as he waited for you to finally make your way towards him. He’s barely talked to you today and while you’re sure he was still annoyed with the previous fight you guys had, you could easily tell something else, something deeper was on his mind.

“Dustin?” you called out slowly. “Are you–”

“A lot happened yesterday.” he blurted out. Though his words were clipped, there was the familiar hint of Dustin’s sincerity that lingered through. “We could have talked things out but..I just got annoyed and pushed you away.”

You blinked at that, trying not to think of the day again. “It’s fine, Dustin.”

“It’s not..I didn't know where you were all day. A girl is dead.” he stood up, moving before you. “You were with Eddie when it happened..it could’ve been..”

The words died off from his mouth but you feel you already know what he wanted to say. Taking a step forward, you reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder. Trying not to downplay his worry while also attempting to reassure him. “It could’ve been me, but it wasn’t. Okay?”

“I just can’t shake the feeling that all of this isn’t gonna stop with just Chrissy.” he whispered, almost afraid to speak the words out loud. “It’s never just one attack for us. Vecna..he’s powerful. I don’t know what I’ll do if it’s you or anyone else.”

“It’s not gonna be any of us.” you reassured him.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because, we have people like you on our side.” He tried to appear confident at that, but the lingering worry still lingered on his face. He was on the verge of freaking out. “We’re gonna figure this out, okay?”

“..I hope you’re right.” he mumbled, pulling out of your grip with a sigh. “Let’s get to bed, we have a lot of work tomorrow.”

With that, he quickly turned to walk away. Leaving you alone in the dimly lit living room with his words echoed in your mind. The worry about this ‘evil wizard’ hung in the air, and the unsettling reality that someone you cared about could be the next target scared you down to your core.

Things were different this time and most of the party has been split off. All you could hope for was to hold back the fear that wanted to consume you whole.

A/N: Sorry it’s taken so long for another update! I was so busy and sick over these past few weeks. I really hope you guys enjoyed this update. I’m hoping to get this next chapter out sooner. Let me know what you guys think! xoxo

TAGGING LIST:

@cluz1babe , @starofavolonea , @darlingimafangirl (won’t let me tag), & @primroseluna

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x henderson reader #steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington x female reader #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x henderson reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #cac #angst #smut #steve harrington smut

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asphodelsandpomegranates · 2 months

Text

A Family of Your Own (Huggy Wuggy x Reader):

(Fanart found on pinterest, if anyone knows the artist's name, please let me know so I can give proper credit).

When you returned to the factory for another night shift, immediately you were greeted by an excitable Huggy Wuggy who bounced over to you, scaring some of your coworkers.

“Hey, sweetie. What’s got you all bubbly, today?” you cooed as you gathered his enormous head in your arms and hugged him.

True to his nature, the huge, blue furred creature wrapped you up in his long limbs in a hug. Huggy Wuggy always gave the best hugs.

He drew back a little, giving a small chorus of chittering and cooing. In his eyes, you could see a glimmer of apprehension.

“You got something you wanna show me, boy?” He nodded. You giggled. “All right, then. Come on, show me your surprise.”

With that, Huggy took your hand in his and pulled you from the lab and up into the factory floor.

Through the labyrinth of corridors and doors, Huggy Wuggy eventually took you through to the game room. There weren't many workers on the night shift in the factory. It was mainly the few security guards and cleaners that stayed in the factory overnight but the night time scientists like yourself, only ever stayed in the labs until their shifts ended.

The game room was huge with a few different areas that led to the game rooms. A huge train with three coaches sat at the back of the room behind a control panel.

Huggy Wuggy left your side, bolted past the Statues game door and up the steps.

“Hug, what are you–?”

With slight difficulty, Huggy managed to pull one of the levers which began to open up one of the doors to the Wack-a-Huggy game.

You glanced between the descending stairway and Huggy Wuggy. “You want to take me down there?”

Huggy nodded as he made his way over to you. He lowered himself down and crawled down the stairs with you following him.

The both of you went down a long corridor that was dotted with several depicted Huggy Wuggys but all in different colours.

Were there more Huggy Wuggys then this Huggy that you knew about? How come you hadn’t been told about it? You might have to speak with Mr. Pierre about this.

At the end of the corridor, was the trademark arch doorway that the factory typically displayed. Huggy Wuggy went through, cooing at you to follow him.

So, you did.

The room was large and circular with at least a dozen or more holes of a different colour - red, blue, yellow and green. A glass window was displayed high above you on the right hand side but the lights were out. This area was for the factory workers or supervisor to keep an eye on the children playing.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by Huggy making an odd screeching call, along with some chirping noises.

“Uh…Huggy, what are you–?”

You were then rudely interrupted by a small chorus of odd chirping and screeching just like Huggy’s. Somewhere around you, you could hear scuttling as though something - things - were crawling through the walls to you and Huggy.

Immediately, you shrank into Huggy’s side, anxiety crawling through your nerves. But Huggy just purred as though content. Then you saw them. Out from the coloured holes, came four small long limbed, all different coloured creatures. All of them a smaller version of Huggy. Just like the paintings on the corridor outside.

The smaller Wuggys jumped down, landing on the ground in front of you and Huggy. They titled their heads curiously at you and chirped weirdly.

So, your theory about mini Huggys was correct.

The mini Huggys were small, about the height of your knees. They continued to chirp and one of them - the red one - began to move forward towards you.

Slowly, you knelt down and sat down on the floor, keeping your eyes on the little creature. You saw its small black eyes glance up at its huge forebear. Huggy Wuggy made a low growl as though telling the small creature that everything was all right.

The red Huggy then moved a little closer…and crawled into your lap, purring contentedly. You felt your heart leap up at the of this small creature curled up on your legs. You had not been a hundred percent sure if these creatures would be quite taken to you as quickly as Huggy had when you had first met. But here you were, acting motherly.

Motherly…

The other three Huggys soon followed and made to crawl in your lap or into your arms. You giggled as you gathered the yellow Huggy Wuggy into your arms and planted a small kiss to the top of its head. It gave a little happy noise at the unfamiliar yet pleasant touch of your lips and seemed to curl more into your arms.

You felt Huggy Wuggy move to curl around you and his tiny fellow Huggys, also purring. You glanced up at him, with much love in your eyes at the experimental creature. Huggy leaned down and rubbed his large head against yours.

“Thank you.” you said, tears beginning to well up in your ears. One of them fell and began to run down your cheek.

Huggy made an odd cooing noise as though concerned about you. He leaned in and began to lick away the escaping tear from your cheek.

“Thank you.” you whimpered and leaned into Huggy’s furry form, happy with your new found family.

(The End)

#huggy wuggy #huggy wuggy x reader #huggy wuggy x y/n #huggy wuggy x you #poppy playtime #mini huggy wuggys

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theblueflower05 · 1 year

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Part Two. Eclipse

Summary: After a heated argument with Lo’ak, Y/N and Kiri embark on a life threatening adventure. Neteyam races against time to save them.

Word count: 6k+

Warning: Violence. A little blood & gore but just a lil bit. Descriptions of parental pressure that may be triggering.

When my heart just burst like a glass balloon,

I let it fly too high and it shattered to soon.

I was the wrong damn girl in the wrong damn room.

I broke my glass balloon. I let go of my glass balloon

- Hermit the frog, Marina.

The forests of Pandora are never still.

They're always bustling with life, in constant movement. Dancing. Breathing. A fan lizard makes its way across the overgrown flora, slow and steady. Unassuming-

“You snooze you lose”

A loud screech followed by a chorus of giggles echos through the trees.

The poor fan lizard never had a chance, is knocked clear off its path as four pre-teens , a tornado of movement and sound, fly by. Swinging from branch to branch without a care in the world, the poor creature erupts into a spinning rainbow right before colliding with the moss covered floor.

No matter, nothing matters as the four of you make your escape from the village as you so often do.

Kiri hot on your tail, Lo’ak at the helm. Spider swinging from vine to vine, holding his own despite his much smaller frame. The vivid cobalt stripes that you’d painted on him days prior still stained his skin.

The trees lessen and then thin out as Hell’s Gate comes into view.

The fortress is big, and ugly. All concrete and overgrown plants. The last remnant of the sky peoples bases, it had definitely seen better days. Since it had been abandoned over a decade ago and left to the few trusted humans it had kind of gone to shit. Scientists are great at discovering, exploring. Maintenance? Not so much.

“Wanna play some ball?” Lo’ak asks as he makes a beeline for the basketball courts. You love humans strange games, they’re useless- but their fun. Just your cup of tea.

“No, I’m gonna go check on mom” Kiri’s already leagues forward, headed towards the entrance. Barely paying any attention to her brother.

“Awe come on- it’s not like she’s not gonna still be there later. Plus we know that Norm’s keeping her plenty company” Lo’ak and Spider giggle at his jab and Kiri throws a glare over her shoulder.

Your teeth dig into your tongue as you fight to keep the smile off of your face shrugging before heading in after her.

“Not you too Y/N. Man, you guys suck. Who’s gonna play with me?”

“I'm right here, cuz” Spider exclaimed, huffing up in exasperation.

Their height difference is laughable.

The Avatar designed basketball to big to fit in Spiders hands, the last time the four of you had played he’d taken it straight to the face, his nose so broken that it never really healed right. The entire court looked like a crime scene and Max had scolded all of you.

You had to remember Spider’s human body, and it’s limits, even if he didnt want you too.

The smaller human steals the culprit of a ball from Lo’ak’s grasp and begins to dribble circles around him and Lo’ak as always, defies any kind of predestined rules.

The labs are a familiar alien. All beeping neon buttons and sterile white surfaces. Monitors filled with images you don't quite understand, no matter how many times they’re explained to you. Since the first time Kiri had brought you here, you’d been perplexed. An obsessed fascination. You liked learning new things, you liked chatting with the friendly humans.

And you liked visiting Grace.

Kiri’s mom is in one of the back corners. Submerged, a bio-tank holding her. Cradling her something like a womb. She looks peaceful, you assure your friend. Whatever dreams she’s stuck in must be good ones.

“Hi mom” Kiri whispers, her five fingered hand pressing gently against the glass. You watch her, let her run through the process of her carefully cultivated routine. She likes to talk to Grace, fill her in on everything that’s happened since the last visit.

You think she’d have a better chance of making connection a connection at the tree of souls but you keep that fact to yourself.

“Hi Grace” You place the bracelet that you’d made for her on the tank. “Kiri ate shit at the watering hole the other day. You would’ve thought it was hilarious”

And you never knew Grace, never would, but who wouldn't think Kiri faceplanting during wash day wasn't funny? If you were stuck in slumber, you’d want people to tell you jokes.

The scientists are cool, and you make your rounds. Handing out the little bracelets you’d made them. You’d just about gotten human measurements down, but they still did hang a little awkwardly off of their gangly wrists.

No matter. Doctor Kelsey is a Zoologist who had been good friends with Kiri’s mom, and had taken the initiative to teach you how to read.

Sky people letters were simple in composition, but confusing in structure. That doesn't stop you from keeping your nose buried in the books she offers. You like the vividly colored picture books better than the black and white chapter ones but to each their own.

“Hi Y/N” Doctor Kelsey greets, laughing as you reach into the cloth knapsack that you’d toted along, giving her back ‘The Lorax’, in exchange for another old semi tattered book from her library.

“How’d you like this one?” She chats as she digs through her collection

“It was very sad. They had no trees, no animals” You explain, a deep frown maring your features as you recount and retell the story you’d read. “This is how your planet is, no?”

You remember Jake telling a story about Earth. A dying star.

“Pretty much, the book was definitely supposed to be an analogy for Global Warming and mass consumption issues. Good job for picking up on that Y/N, you really have been excelling. I’m gonna give you something a little harder. If you have any issues with it, Kiri will help until you can come visit again”

She hands you a thicker book and you sound out the golden rod letters of the title.

“Pet-her pahn?”

“Peter Pan” She corrects good naturedly “I think you’ll like this one, it's about a boy that never wants to grow up”

“Are you sure you don’t want to give this to Lo’ak instead?” You deadpan and Doctor Kelsey lets out a peel of laughter.

She reads the first couple chapters out loud to you and Kiri before having to return to her work. You both listen, ears twitching with interest. You pack the fragile book safely into your knapsack before you leave.

----------

It’s nearing eclipse and you know you really should be getting home- instead you sit crossed legged on a step, your face twisted into a deep scowl.

You spend more time at Hell’s Gate than you should, your parents remind you of the fact often, but you love it here. You can make the trek home in your sleep.

Which is why you’re less worried about the waning sunlight. More concerned with the words that had just come out of Lo’ak’s mouth.

“You guys could never do it, and not even because you're girls. Ma’s a girl, lots of hunters are. You’re just wusses” He taunts, chest all puffed out.

He’d been like this, ego inflated to the nines since he’d come back from the mountains a few days ago, actually in flight this time. A wriggling yelping Ikran below him and air of self importance that he just couldn't seem to shake.

Scratch the fact that you and Kiri had just handed him his own ass at H.O.R.S.E.

“Didn't it take you like three times and a concussion to tame your ikran?” You sneer and Spider lets out a huff of a chuckle, coughing when Lo’ak side eyes him.

“It was only two-” He starts and Kiri shakes her head, cutting him off quick.

“It can't be hard if you were able to do it. I mean, think about the Tayrangi, in their clan even the children ride. It wouldn’t be that hard to go up to the mountains and claim one”

Somehow it ended up like this most days. Kiri and Lo’ak on opposing views. Bickering until your ears hurt. You and Spider innocent on lookers, casualties of war as you alternated whos allegiance to pledge. Well Spider did, even if Lo’ak was right on the money and Kiri was dead wrong you’d stand beside her.

“Yeah so? We aren't coast people. I bet you couldn't even make it up the mountain. You’d shit your pants before you even tried. What would you do Kiri? Try to hug your ikran into submission” His words are laced with condescending laughter.

You shouldn't take it so personally, Lo’ak can be a dick. He doesn't even mean to be most of the time.

But it hits a sensitive raw nerve in your chest, the same one that had been hammered endlessly for years. To be a hunter, you have to ride. To be a hunter, you have to train. To be a hunter, you have to want to be one, right? You can't run away from it at every turn…

“We’re gonna have to do it eventually” You grit out.

“Yeah, sure” he drawls out the ‘e’ “I think you should probably just stick to your beadworking. You know, things you’re actually good at”

In the blink of an eye Lo’ak is drenched in what remained of your banana fruit juice, you’d emptied the canteen right in his stupid face. He blinks in surprise, his mouth falling open, tail going ramrod straight

“You’re such a douchebag” You hiss. You don't completely know what that word means, but you’d heard the sky people throw it around a handful of times and knew that it was nothing good.

“You head straight for the forest without another word. Face hot and eyes stinging.

“Why would you say that?” Kiri glares at her younger brother who looks completely shocked, ears flat and mouth open.

“What? Tell her that she’s good at something? That’s the last time I try to be nice, shit. Grandmother just re-braided my hair” Lo’ak moans as he he rakes his hands down his face, over his chest and through his hair. He’s already sticky.

“Dont be so dense. That wasn't cool and you know it” She sighs, before following you.

“Girls are psychotic” Lo’ak laments, and Spider just shakes his head.

“Yeah, totally”

---------

The forest has already started to glow, the path home bioluminescent which just makes your furious steps even faster. You didn't want to get in trouble with your parents too. They already weren’t going too be thrilled about you ditching babysitting duty to go hang out at the ‘cursed place’

“Wait up!”

You huff and clear the jump between branches in a clean swoop of a jump.

“Come on! Dont be mad at me I didn't do anything!” Kiri exclaimes jumping after you and nearly running into your back as you stop dead, waiting.

“I'm not mad, okay. I'm just-” You shake your head with a sigh. Not wanting to speak the words in your head. “Come on, we need to get home”

“Its okay to be mad at Lo’ak. My dad is, like, all the time” Kiri tries to soothe as the two of you continue your route.

“I can't be mad at someone who was only telling the truth”

“That wasn't the truth. That was him trying to pacify himself over the fact that he didn't get it first try like Neteyam”

Your stomach flutters when Kiri mentions her eldest brother, as it always does. You ignore it like you always do.

Pushing on further, faster, until the twinkling warm lights of the village come into view. They’ve already started preparing for the night and you need to start preparing for the earful you’re about to get.

Your heartbeat goes tense and anxiety creeps up your spine, your tail flicking in rapid jerky motions.

Kiri doesn't pry, she never needs to. She lets you huff and puff and stomp all the way back home, knowing that you’ll spill.

You lean against the bark of the trunk, your arms crossing over your chest as you look at your friend. She stands in front of you, expectant but not forceful. Already knowing whats bothering you, you’d vented about this particular issue so many times in the past.

“At least he got it, eventually. Didn't get himself killed like so many have before him- Kiri I don't know how I'm ever supposed to do that. My parents-” you choke on the word parents, have to swallow up the word vomit “My mom wants me to start really focusing on training and I just-”

“Don't want to?” Kiri offers.

“Completely suck at it. Everyone keeps telling me that it’s gonna get easier, it's in my blood, but I’m not a warrior. I don’t feel it, you know. I just want to read my new book, and make a necklace with those stones we found at the river. And gossip with the girls'' You sigh because why can't it be so easy?

“I think you’d be a great village gossip, we should ask my father if he can make that your official title”

You laugh in spite of yourself and your soured mood “It’s not funny. I'm never going to be what they want me to be. There's no way I’m ever going to be able to tame an ikran. He’s right”

“You don't really think that”

“No I really do. Im pretty sure I’d break my neck trying. I fall of direhorses all the time”

“You can also hit a moving target with your eyes closed. You don't have to be good at all things, all the time Y/N. It’s impossible” She reaches out to pat your shoulder.

“Try telling my mom that '' You sigh, and bring your hands to face, covering your eyes as you talk “I just don't want to disappoint everybody when I’m not able to do it. When I’m not able to complete my Inknamaya and become this great warrior they keep talking about. They’ll all come up to watch me get eaten by my own ikran”

“Would it be easier if they weren't watching?” Kiri offers solutions.

Probably so, but she knows how your family is. You remind her of the fact.

“What if we tried without them…if you didn't feel like you needed to perform, maybe you wouldn't be so in your head the whole time?” Kiri always has the worst plans. Seriously. But this one tops the cake.

You pull your hands from your face to glare at her incredulously. “You’re not serious”

“Why not? Tayrangi kids do it while they’re still in diapers, they don't have any training for it- they know what to do in their hearts. The great mother guides them through it”

“Kiri. Absolutely not”

“Think about it, cause I have. Even before tonight with my stupid brother. Tsaheylu is sacred, we know how to make it from the moment we’re birthed. It doesnt need to be browbeaten into us, we don't have to do it everyone else's way. My mother made the bond with a palulukan! And my father with Taruk? Who taught them how to do that?”

You shake your head because she’s far too good at convincing herself that her asinine ideas aren't exactly that.

You’ve seen the way the forest interacts with her, you know how special she is…but this would certainly get you both killed. Thirteen is young to make the bond with an Ikran anyway. Even the highly skilled, trained and ready warriors have trouble with it.

You're shaking your head, arms back tightly crossed over your chest, about to go full older sister mode when there's a rustling in the nearest tree.

Two sets of ears twitch, focused on what's coming-

“Lo’ak? Kiri?- There you are!”

Neteyam swings in from above, lands gracefully on his feet in front of you.

His amber orbs scan quickly over you both, apprising and slightly annoyed and your stomach does its tell tale flutter. Having him so close, tall and looming never does good things to your weak, wanting heart.

“You do realize that you were supposed to be home hours ago- it's almost eclipse. Mom and dad are pissed, he would have come out himself if Norm hadn’t radioed in that you all we’re using Hell’s Gate as a playground again”

Neteyam sounds every bit his role. Future clan leader, semi disgruntled older brother.

“It's not even eclipse yet, there's still light” Kiri is reaching, it's all but dark out. “Right Y/N?”

“Right? We definitely had a quarter hour left at least, if anything we’re right on time” You nod, catching her line of bullshit and rolling with it.

Neteyam pinches the bridge of his nose. “Your parents are upset too Y/N. I wouldn't use that line with them if I was you”

The anxious flick of your tail comes back full force “Like really upset? Or just- a little bit?”

His deadpan face tells it all. “Where is Lo’ak?

Another shuffle in the trees, leaves and smaller branches swaying. Lo’ak appears, obviously behind. He doesn't land nearly as gracefully as Neteyam.

“I’m right here bro, chill out” Lo’ak’s eyes meet yours briefly and you huff, still upset clearly.

Your nose is high in the air as you turn away. If you had to get scolded, you’d do it with some kind of dignity- and he could fuck right off.

“What is all over you?” Neteyam questions his brother from behind you, plucking at his one of his younger brothers sticky braids.

----------

Its an accumulation of things, your mother tells you. She doesn't scream, but the tongue lashing is no less intense. No, if anything it's worse. You can't look her in the face.

Its an accumulation of things, she tells you. It’s your disregard of your duties, who would have watched your little sisters had an Aunt not volunteered to do what you should’ve. You are to watch over them while she’s partoling and you know that.

It’s your training, or lack thereof. You can't get better if you don't put in the effort. If you don't focus.

“It’s this streak of immaturity , Y/N. You are not a childling anymore. By the time I was your age I was helping feed our community, I had found myself within the people. I want that for you- and you disappoint me at every chance”

Your ears are plastered to the side of your head the entire time, your tail wrapped around your calf. You take it wordlessly, blinking furiously at the tears because you can. Not. Cry.

“Are we done?” You croak and your mother looks like she might cry herself. Instead she nods and you sprint as quickly as you can away. Only when she can't see your face do you let the tears roll fast and hot.

It's later in the night, laying with your family on your cot. Staring at the star filled sky that you recount your mothers words.

Disappoint me.

You disappoint me.

Somewhere, somehow, Kiri’s get mixed in.

What if we tried without them?

-----------

To tame an Ikran, you have to go where the Ikrans are.

This was known by all. You’d heard stories of how tedious the journey was, but as you make it yourself, you realize that all before you had minimized its nature.

You and Kiri had taken direhorses out in the early morning under the guise of foraging for berries that you had spotted a week before when visiting the lab. They hadn't been ready to pick then, somehow your Grandfather buys it. Sends you out with a kiss on the forehead.

You're glad your mother is out hunting, she wouldn't have been such an easy sell.

It was early, when you’d left. The sun just rising. Now it is high in the sky, shining brightly as the two of you ride as far down the path as you can go on horseback. The path is narrow and carved into the face of a steep cliff. Rocks crumble away, you soothe the gentle beast beneath you.

Kiri seems to be doing the same for you. Turning back to look at you every few minutes.

“How do you know where we’re going?” You’d questioned her when she’d offered to lead the way.

“I just know. Eywa will show us”

To anyone else that might have not been enough. You follow her eagerly.

The direhorses can only take you so far- before its time to climb.

And climb you do.

The two of you scale the floating mountains none too fast. Its treacherous unstable ground, the wind shifting the terrain with every breeze and you never quite feel like you have your sure footing.

You’d grown up in hometree. They say it isn't as large as the one that your parents grew up in, that the sky people destroyed, but it still towers high. You’d ridden on the back of your mothers ikran, you'd climbed to the top of lovers Peak to watch the great colors in the sky.

You were no stranger to heights, but as Kiri jumps, and latches on to a weak looking vine in mid air you hesitate. You stop for a moment, and look below you.

All you can see are clouds, misty and white. So high up that you can't even see the ground.

“Come on, Y/N!” she calls for you and you gulp. Breath through your nose and take the leap.

The journey is laborious, and feels like it lasts forever. By the time the two of you make it to the entrance of the mouth of the cave you are both covered in sweat, panting profusely. Your arm muscles scream at the intense treatment. You reach a hand out, sweeping through one of the waterfalls that seem to fall into nothing.

Rub the cool liquid on the back of your neck.

It was hell to get to, but the mountain of the Ikran is beautiful.

They fly in the hundreds here, screeching and circling each other in the sky, sweeping from mountain to mountain. Their breeding grounds lush with waterfalls and fungi.

Looking down, down through the gaps of clouds you can see the forest below. It looks so small and and far away. Your stomach lurches, you feel like you’re flying already.

“We made it. I can't believe we made it. Thank you great mother” Kiri whispers, her hands clutching her chest.

“Don't thank her quite yet, we still haven't gotten through the hard part” You remind her- because its there. Looming just out of sight.

There is only a moment to catch your bearings, before you settle in on what you came for.

“We can still go back” Kiri offers. She has to. You don't have to do this.

You shake your head. “No, we can't. We came all this way and I’m never climbing this mountain again”

It’s through one of the waterfalls, the sound of rushing water filling your ever twitching ears as you pay close attention to your footing on the narrow, slippery ledge. It’s white noise, the first peace you’d had since the start of your climb.

“How will we know if an Ikran chooses us?” one of your peers had asked during training and Jake had smiled. All to canine.

“It’ll try to kill you”

You fist the bolo rope you’d brough until the leather digs deep into your palm as they come into view. All of them, dozens. Ikrans of all colors and sizes are seated at what looks like a basking site. They slowly become aware of the outside intrusion, and then its eyes. So many of them. All focused on you and Kiri.

“How are we gonna do this?” You whisper to her, heart pounding in your throat. Adrenaline rushing protectively through your veins.

“I’m not sure yet” She replies very unhelpfully.. Of course It goes the way all things go with Kiri.

Strange.

She doesn't seem as scared as you are, she steps lightly around the winged creatures, whispering all the while. You’re glued to your spot, still not far from where you’d entered. You’d seen your friend do a number of weird things, unexplainable things. But this…was something else. She approaches an Ikran. And it doesn't try to kill her.

No, the mostly chartreuse creature cocks its head at her. Skittish and unsure. You’re too far away to hear what she's saying but Kiri keeps whispering. Talk to it, as one does a child. A smile on her face, her arm outstretched and welcoming.

“Kiri don’t!”

You’re trying to figure out how exactly you’re going to explain a missing arm to her family when she takes a hold of her que, and simple as anything, connect it to her ikrans.

The gasp you let out leaves your throat sore.

You’re confused. Cant believe your eyes. You’re still in disbelief when she takes flight, the green and silver of the wings sparking in the high alkaline sunshine. Kiri soars through the air- making a wide turn, and coming back to where you’re still rooted.

“How did you do that?!” Your voice breaks and your eyes are wide as saucers.

“I asked her if she wanted to be my friend!” Kiri hollers back. Completely serious. “You can do it Y/N! You’ve gotta, this is amazing! She yells “You’ve got this!”

And you want it, so badly.

You want to be in the air with her, you don't want to go back to the village riding her coat tails and reeking of defeat. You have to do this, you square your shoulders,

“I’ve got this!” You reply, even though you keep thinking about Lo’ak’s unconscious body on the back of Neytiri’s ikran the first time he’d tried this. He’d been knocked unconscious, head bloody and his mom had had to carry him home.

It is glaringly apparent as you take the steps that your friend had just made, that this is not going to go the same way for you.

Where the banshee’s seemed to be at peace with her being here on their territory they reacted completely differently as you approach. Wailing loudly, scattering. Hostile and ready to strike.

They didn't want to be your friend.

Everytime you get close, they take off, jumping ship. Taking to the skies.

Until one doesn't.

Perched on a rock, the creature looks at you with a sharp turquoise eye. Only one, the other is scared, disfigured from past battle. She’s huge and dark purple. So dark she looks shiny with it, the orange, green and magenta splotches on her skin give the appearance of an oil slick.

She’s nothing like the pretty, feminine ikrans you’d so admired growing up. She’s fierce and terrifying and for a moment you think that there's no way she’s choosing you.

“Oh shit” you hear Kiri, distantly.

The ikran opens her massive jaws and lets out a roar that shakes you to your core.

“It’ll try to kill you” Jake had answered the question. Training young hunters to the best of his ability “And you’ve gotta call their bluff”

You muster a fierce hiss, even though you feel anything but, and then its on.

Lightening quick, chaos ensues. A tangle of limbs and wings. You can't wrap your mind around what's happening, there’s no room for any other thoughts then make tsaheylu. You have to follow your body, trust it. But it's so hard when something three times your size is struggling against you, trying to take any chance it has to kill you.

“Make the bond!”

You get the bolo wrapped around its gnashing jaws and chalk it up to pure luck. In the next moment one of it’s wings expands violently, throwing you back. Luckily not straight over the edge, but against the rough rocky wall opposite.

Your head connects with a sickening thud.

Your world goes dark, the pain on the right side of your face excruciating and your ears ringing from the impact. Or is that Kiri screaming? You force yourself to collect your bearings, forcing up onto your knees. You can taste metallic in your mouth and your head feels too heavy for your neck to hold.

A flash of purple brings your eyes back to focus.

NO.

The ikran is going to take flight, her wings outstretched. She’s going to leave and you’re never going to have another chance. You’re going to have to ride back home bloody and defeated. A loser who never should’ve tried. You’re going to disappoint your family, again. You won't be able to bring this glory to them-

You didnt come this far to go back empty handed. You weren't going to get in trouble for nothing.

The ikran takes off disappearing over the edge.

And you jump off the cliff behind her.

-----------

Jake is making his rounds, there’s so many of them now a days. He checks in with Mo’at, runs perimeter. Takes account of his people, and wonders if the imposter syndrome will ever fade. Tuk is still just young enough that she sticks to his side like glue.

“Daddy, look at this!” “Daddy, what’s that!”

A part of him wishes all of his children were still 5 years old. Still thought he hung the stars just for them. Instead he barely knew where they were anymore. Teenagers are still teeangers no matter what planet they’re on.

He does mental intake- Neteyam would no doubt be leading training. Kiri off somewhere with Y/N, and Lo’ak was hunting with Neytiri so for once Jake didn't need to worry about him.

Everything was fine. Everything was great…so why did he have this gnawing feeling in his gut that it wasn't?

It’s okay, this is why he’d given his family coms, so that he could check in whenever he wanted to.

He touches base with Neytiri first, her and Lo’ak are fine and he better not mess up her shot again.

Then Neteyam, he’ll be on stand-bye if needed.

“Kiri, I need your six. Over” He’s met with dead silence. He tries again, and again only for the same result. And that’s not normal. Kiri, at this age, will usually reply with some sarcastic smart ass quip. Captain dad, she calls him.

She’s never gone radio silent. And Jake’s gut has never lead him astray. Something’s wrong.

Tuk is pulling on his hand, taking his ear off but he’s sinking into a place he knows all too well- he can't panic. His brains not hardwired for that, too many battlefields, too much experience.

“Neteyam? When was the last time you saw Kiri, over?”

The first place he looks for his daughter is with Y/N, the two are practically conjoined at this point. You aren't to be found at your hut, but your grandfather tells him that the two of you had gone gathering. Bubble berries, its their season but the timing doesn't match- if his daughter had left this morning, she’d be back by now.

Jake’s in full military mode, furiously barking out orders.

A search party needed to be dispersed. Now. He’s gathering his men when Vitany, your mother touches ground. She’s confused, and then she’s fearful. He can see his own emotions mirrored in her eyes. She’s a great warrior, one of his best. She’d fought beside him for the last decade. No fear, heart of a lion. That all tends to go out of the window the moment your child is involved.

“Ma’ Jake!”

As Neytiri and Lo’ak land, having raced home from hunting at the news- his wife looks much the same. Terrified, confused. Shooting off question after question, where can they be? Where do they start?.

He’s about to take flight- to follow the search party.

“Dad!” Its Neteyam, and along with him he’s toting Spider. A gentle but firm grip on the younger, smaller boy's shoulder.

“What’s going on? What is it?”

“You need to tell them what you told me” his eldest son urges the human boy “Right now”

Jake’s always felt for Spider. A kid misplaced forever on a planet not his own. With people who could never and would never see him as anything but an alien.

All eyes are on him.

“It was uh, it was like a week ago. When they came to visit Hell’s Gate. We all got into it about ikran riding and how Kiri and Y/N weren't cut out for it. Kiri said that she could do it a different way like the Tayrangi Clan did, and Y/N just got really pissed at Lo’ak and left-”

“Is this true?” Neytiri looks to Lo’ak who hangs his head. But nods in agreement.

“What are you saying?” Jake presses, because he needs a solid answer.

“I think that they might have gone into the mountains. To try and tame ikrans” Spider finishes and Neteyam lets go of his shoulder, his hand slightly shaking.

“No” Vitany gasps horrified. Her daughter isn't trained enough. What the human boy just spoke of is certain death, she's on the back of her own ikran within seconds, taking off as fast as she can.

Racing towards the breeding grounds. Neytiri is hot on her trail.

“Neteyam, I need you with me, let's go!” Jake calls for Bob, high pitched bird sounds, and the beast lands at his feet, ever loyal. Looking at him, Jake remembers just what it took to tame him-

“Not you” He bellows, already mid flight. Catches his youngest son gripping his reins. Lo’ak protests, his eyes watery as the weight of his actions weigh down heavily on him.

“Dad, please”

“You’ve done enough”

------------

Neteyam spends most his life in flight, since he had passed his rite of taming Atanzaw(lightning) years ago, he never wanted to touch ground.

He felt most himself in the sky. Free, lost to the vastness of the wind. He’d take any hunting, scouting or perimeter control shifts he could get his hands on, as long as he could fly.

It's an unusual feeling, being on ikrab back and having his stomach tied into knots. Being so worried that he can barely breathe.

He has to keep his mind clear to keep Atanzaw flying straight, piercing through the clouds like a bullet. He can't imagine his sister mauled to death or her best friend thrown to her death. It is too much.

He let his guard down, he knew he needed to help keep a closer eye on his siblings when his mother was hunting and he let his fucking guard down.

Kiri and Y/N we’re always running off, but never far. He could always track one’s movement by the other’s. Keeping an eye on Y/N had become a part of his routine, and he’d slacked.

Y/N hadn’t shown up for training and he should’ve known something was wrong- but she’d been off all week. Upset at something that was none of his business to uncover. Overworking herself, walking away from friends that she’d usually spend her time chattering with.

Shit.

He’s better than this. He’s going to be Olo’ekteyan someday, how is he supposed to keep the people safe if he can't even keep his sister safe? He’s wallowing in could’ve, would’ve should’ve’s when he hears a scream.

Neteyam banks against the wind, using all his strength to pull himself and Atanzaw in the other direction. Towards the screams, towards where his sister and her friend we’re undoubtedly in imminent danger.

He doesn't get shocked much, and when he does, he’s always able to hide it. Able to handle it enough that no one even noticed.

His mouth hangs open and his ears point straight at the sight that greets him.

No longer is the sky filled with screams, but with girlish giggles. Yelps and ikran caterwauls.

Kiri and Y/N do barrel rolls around each other, in hysterics as they play in the clouds. Both of them sat atop their respective ikran- not dead. Not dying. But frolicking, like schoolgirls. Like they didn't just give the village a collective fucking stroke.

Neteyam is angry, furious even. But more so, he’s impressed. That combined with the shock is a potent mix in his system and he can help but let out an incredulous laugh. Somehow the two of you were not only alive, but flying, bareback. Had climbed the Hallelujah mountains alone, and tamed ikran.

You were both in so much fucking trouble.

A|N: Okay I know the story is lacking Neteyam right now, buttttt I just needed to get through with the set up. All of the rest of the chapters will be very Neteyam x Reader heavy.

Also- I read an article that said this is how Kiri bonded with her Ikran in the comics? And thought it was rad. I had to roll with it.

Please comment and tell me what you think! And what you wanna see in future parts! More interaction will always mean quicker updates.

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully #aged up neteyam #kiri #kiri avatar #kiri sully

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citrous241 · 5 months

Text

1.21 is looking fire, but 1.22 has got to be an End update.

Minecraft has always had really good lore and story-telling, but does anyone else feel like the End is just missing something?

It's to be expected, it hasn't been updated for the last 7 years and the last update added more questions than answers. I feel like it's just on the cusp of being as clear as the rest of the game.

It's a dimension that's supposed to feel off, and uncanny. Literally the only track that plays is 15 minutes of warped mash-ups of Overworld tracks. End stone is just inverted Cobblestone.. etc. But even then it's still wrong.

I just have to know, Minecraft lore is built off of head canons but I'm just unable to form one that makes sense regarding the End. Endermen make sense, I believe they're warped and "evolved" humans. Eating only chorus makes them teleport, their long arms and bodies to reach the high snaking chorus plants, their larger eyes to see in perpetual darkness, etc. Their aversion to water is a wrench in that but I'm not perfect and my head canon isn't right. Endermen could have nothing to do with humans.

Shulkers and End Cities are what confounds me. Are Shulkers natural living organisms? The Dragon and Ender-men both have black skin and dark purple eyes but this thing has yellow skin and an almost magenta shell. I think they're some sort of automatons, but built by who? The ancient builders, the ones who evolved into Endermen? But the spiral staircases in the End Cities don't seem designed for humans (or maybe I just suck at climbing them) and the ceilings aren't really high enough for Endermen. Maybe Shulkers are another protector mob of their area. But protecting what? Protecting the means of personal flight maybe, but that looks nothing like the rest of the end - its literally made from the wings of the Phantoms of the Overworld.

End Cities themselves do kind of make sense to me, their architecture mimics the branches of a chorus plant. But whilst chorus seems to be the only natural thing in the End, the cities very much aren't. There's no way that structure would work under normal gravity. But surely the End just has weak gravity? Nope, it's the same as the Overworld.

Everything in the End just feels so artificial. The central island; with Obsidian pillars punching through the whole thing, a material that can only be made using 2 fluids that don't exist in the End, topped with a crystal made partially from the tears of a creature in another dimension and some sort of Eye which we can only make by killing an Enderman and fusing it's remains with the ground up remains of another creature from said other dimension. Also, it is so far away from the rest of the End, as if someone destroyed or moved these other islands away. The Dragon itself to, she works like no other mob. People say that she's a machine which I don't agree with, her erratic behaviour is because she is the only mob of her type and hasn't been updated like ever. I don't think she's native to the End though; Endermen, the only other creature in existence that looks like her, can be hostile to her.

Trying to piece this together as I'm writing this is making me think of a new head canon: The End is just a melting pot of travellers who got lost and stuck. Think of something like the Void from the Loki show. I think the End was initially just a mass of floating islands with the chorus fruit, in the Void between dimensions. Then the ancient builders arrived, constructing the obsidian pillars and the bedrock portal frame. I think they found something, maybe it could be whatever made the End Cities. But regardless, something dangerous. Something that made them separate the only way out of the dimension by several kilometres of Void, that made them create a Dragon to guard said way out. Something that made them sacrifice themselves by sealing themselves into the End.

There are a few holes in this. Maybe the ancient builders did build the End Cities before/after becoming Endermen. Maybe the danger was the Dragon, but why would it guard the exit portal? And I've kind of ignored the fact that Endstone is inverted Cobblestone, maybe the whole dimension if artificial? Built by the ancient builders entirely? Or maybe the End was spawned from ancient humanities collective mind, like a sort of yin to their yang.

I would love an End update to add a few things. I don't like most popular ideas or mods for an End update, as they often stray too far from what the End is. I would like to be able to find whatever gravity-defying sentient race built the End Cities, maybe they could also be warped into Endermen like the ancient builders were - but could still have a sense of self and humanity, or maybe they're some sort of Phantom People. I would like to find this danger that caused the ancient builders to sacrifice themselves, a new huge boss at the edge of the End would be awesome. I would also like, if they made them less annoying that is, for Phantoms to spawn in the End just normally. They feed on Insomnia right? What's more insomniac then an entire dimension where it's always night and nothing can sleep?

I would also like purple chorus wood lol.

#minecraft #enderman #minecraft phantom #shulker #the end #end city #ancient builders #minecraft lore #mineblr #minecraft headcanons

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solaneceae · 4 months

Text

float like a feather, sting like sharp talons

Philza drops by Étoiles' brand new dojo for a friendly sparring session, and ends up getting quite a lot more. Namely existential dread, the thrill of a good hunt, and the comfort of shared trust. @apthotiosis this is a commissioned fic! read on ao3

He whistles, eyes lingering along the thick, wooden support beams and rice paper walls surrounding him. It’s a surprising sight, tucked away in a corner of what he can only describe as a mess of a base, mostly empty, the walls still a rough (and frankly ugly) mix of dirt and cobblestone that hasn’t been cleared out even after six months. “So. That is your dojo.”

Étoiles nods at his side, a big stupid grin on his face. “Do you like it, Phil?” he asks, eager as a pup as little Pomme zooms around the cave in an improv game of tag with Tallulah — ever mindful of how her lag (sorry, asthma) sometimes stalls her in her tracks. He glances at them fondly, silly, eggs, babies. “I do,” he hums, because it is pretty. Especially if you ignore the rest of the cave outside because God, it’s fugly as shit and Étoiles knows it. The plant hybrid smiles, all teeth and gums, and squints with star-filled eyes that always seem to glow despite not working like they used to. Phil still doesn’t get why what was originally a completely harmless veggie plant has evolved to bear such predatory teeth, but he can’t say it doesn’t suit his friend. “He likes it! Let’s gooo, big win for me, big win. I can die happy now.”

“Oh my god, stop. Kristin’s married, you know.”

Étoiles gives him a mock-shove that is more of a real one, because Étoiles never holds back, especially not with Phil. “Oh! Oh, so I can’t be nice to Lady Death? I can’t just visit her because she’s cool and she likes me also? I am married to the grind, Phil, you know me!”

Phil shakes his head, exasperated and fond. “You’re a nerd is what you are. Did you know she calls you her tech support?” Étoiles makes a confused noise. Tallulah peeps in the background, mimicked by Pomme, a chorus of play and yesyes, because all the eggs have picked up on that one by now. (Mimicry is a powerful thing, and the eggs are highly social creatures who thrive on it.)

Phil elaborates, circling the build to assess its structure better. “Because of the sweeping edge bug thing, and Richas’ cancelled death last week. You find the kinks and loopholes in death mechanics better than anyone she knows.”

Étoile beams at that. “That’s so cool. I’m Death tech support!”

“You certainly are. Do you think it’s because you picked Death? In the entity rooms?”

The green-skinned man shrugs, then gasps and takes off running after Pomme to stop her from setting up waterframes everywhere to display obscure anime edits for Tallulah because her internet, her lag Pomme, you’re going to make her void! Phil glances at them (safe, no danger, good) then back at the dojo, running his palm down a beam to feel its grain. It’s smooth, recently stripped of its bark. “Huh,” he says.

He doesn’t understand why his friend chose to build this underground when dojos are usually suited for wind-swept plains or mysterious forests. Then again, Étoiles has never been much for coherent aesthetics. That, and he probably thought it would be more mysterious to hide it under the ground, knowing him. “It’s. Well, very dojo-like,” he walks through dark support beams and onto clean, recently-oiled planks, coming to poke at one of the wooden sticks idly rotating above an altar to send it spinning in the opposite direction. Étoiles trots back to him with an egg under each arm (Play, dad, Pomme warbles. Play, silly, Tallulah beeps from within her cracked shell.) and lets out a guttural noise, visibly bothered by the sticks being out of sync, and it makes Phil snort. Silly. Silly. “Did you build it all by yourself?”

“Yeeaaaah.”

“You’re lying.”

A dramatic gasp. The warrior puts both eggs down to throw his hands in the air. “I’m not lying! Pomme, ma légende, dis-lui.”

Bomp. [me and richas did it. papa helped, very much :DDD]

Étoiles comes to brush his fingers against the red sign, letting the device tucked into his ear translate the written words into spoken ones. He whines, puts a hand over his heart as his ears droop. “Ahhh, trahison. Disgrâce. Tu m’détestes en fait Pomme, c’est ça ? You want me to dig down to bedrock and die forever? Or it’s because I can’t see, so you think I’m shit?”

Bomp. [papa…] Bomp. [t’a pas besoin d’être aveugle pour avoir des goûts douteux en déco :X]

“Okay, okay. I go die in fire then, goodnight.” Then Étoiles pours lava into the cobble floor and stands in it with a huge smile. His body catches on fire immediately, skin quickly shrivelling up and blackening under the heat. Pomme peeps at him loudly and hits him with her scythe, then douses him in water and healing potions — which immediately prompts Étoiles into sparring mode, laughing and hyping his egg up with a string of ‘oh she knows, she knows the play’ and ‘strafing, comboing, keep at it’ as his body heals up. Philza watches the display for a few seconds before getting bored, choosing to walk past the layer of light wood circling the dojo to take a look inside.

It’s even prettier than the outside, with all the paper lanterns and little fountains and bamboo shoots. His geta clack against the wood, then go silent on the woven straw flooring at the center. “Why’re all the posters in Japanese?” he remarks when his friend comes back from his little mock-tantrum with his daughter in tow, squinting at a crude montage explaining the belts system. Philza can gather that it’s based on how much HP the dojo master has left after a duel, because Étoiles has been yapping about making a dojo with that exact system for months now. (Is that a jar of mayo at the top? The hell?) Guess the eggs returning has been the push in motivation he needed to actually commit to that build, despite his insistence that he is very much a builder now, thank you very much, look at all the wool I have.

Étoiles perks up, grins in a way that lets Phil know he’s about to do a bit. “Oh, you don’t know? You don’t know that I’m literally Japanese, Philza?” he chirps, picking up one of the sticks on display before running circles around the other man, poking at his legs playfully. His boots are off, Phil notices. “Speaking of! Shoes off Phil, come on, come on!”

“You literally told me you grew in a field, mate,” Phil laughs, airy and wheezy and light as he evades the attacks. “The little legume who could! In rural France! Where does Japan come into play here?”

“Aaaah, Philza, Philza,” the warrior shakes his head, hitting the other on the shoulder to push him back out and onto the cold cobble floor. “Shoes off I said, it’s a rule. I don’t want shit on my tatami, I already had to clean it up sooo many times with the whole server fucking around in it yesterday. And Japan lives in my warrior’s soul. It’s all that matters.”

“F’course it does,” Phil complies regardless, shimming out of his geta before walking to the little shoe rack in the corner to tuck them inside. “There. Happy?”

“Very. Also, trivia time, culture time: did you know that cucumbers aren’t legumes? They are fruits, Phil! And vegetables don’t actually exist, they’re all either fruits or roots or leaves or flowers...”

Phil stares at him. “...You don’t get to stand there and tell me my avocados are fruits, Étoiles. What the fuck.”

“Umm, they are berries, actually—”

“Oh fuck off and come kill me already.”

“With pleasure, my bro.”

Armors come off next, quickly magicked back into inventories. Phil walks up to the altars to pick up his own stick (unenchanted, as plain as it gets) and spots Étoiles off to the side, rolling up his sleeve to check on his insulin levels before rolling it back down. “We eat one gapple each, yes? My sugar is low,” he explains as they both get into position on both ends of the tatami.

“Sounds good. You got yours?”

Étoiles laughs, summoning a golden fruit from his inventory and spinning it over his finger like the insufferable showoff he is. “Always. Autofeed off Phil, no cheating.”

“Alright, you little shit,” Phil summons his own gapple and bites into it with purpose, feeling the warm tingle of magic-saturation in his stomach as the rest of the apple vanishes into thin air with a few golden sparkles. He turns to the eggs, settled on top of diamond blocks they’ve just placed. “Tallulah, do a countdown for us please?”

Signs are placed, one by one, as Pomme hypes them up with Megalovania, perfectly timed with the Pigstep now blasting out of a music box. Bomp, three. Bomp, two. Bomp, one…

Bomp. [GO PAPA PHIL :D]

Étoiles shoots off towards him as soon as the letters show up on the wood, jumping up and swinging his stick down for a crit. Phil dashes to the side, the blow just grazing his shoulder. “Nice cock, Phil!” Étoiles gasps, all sharp teeth and waggling eyebrows, and it takes the avian back enough for the other to get a few hits in. “Motherfucker!” Phil laughs, breaking the combo and pushing the cucumber back with a few crits of his own, adrenaline starting to flood his brain and paint the world in sharp edges and colors. “You little shit! Stop doing that!”

“Do what, Philza? I’m just bantering, just chilling.”

Étoiles’ combat style hasn’t changed despite the blindness, Phil finds — he’s insanely precise and quick on his feet, which is a problem. He decides he won’t be able to outrun or out-speed him, so he elects to block most of his strikes with his own stick instead, relying more on instinct than observation. “He’s blocking, he’s blocking,” the warrior’s voice chants through the flurry of swings and the clack of wood against wood. “Strafing, strafing, he’s the best, he’s the GOAT. Hit me, Phil! Don’t just defend, hit me!”

And dammit, Phil tries pretty hard — but Étoiles is insane and he’s just a little too fast even without speedbridging, just a little too smart with his feints. Phil goes down after two minutes, the last hit clocking him across the temple and sending him to the (thankfully a little soft) floor, ears ringing and white stars dancing across his darkening vision. He wonders if it’s a little like how Étoiles sees the world now. Probably not. “Four hearts, Phil,” Étoiles announces, laying his hands on Phil’s side — the pain fades, the world comes back into focus, and his brain rattles with the doom-doom of revival. He hears fireworks going off, probably Pomme’s. “That’s good, very good. That’s a brown belt! I think you can kill me soon, easy. Again?” the cucumber chirps, offering his hand, and Phil thinks that if Étoiles had his tail it would probably be wagging right now.

He groans in agreement, grasps his friend’s hand and is pulled back on his feet. “Yes. Again.”

Round two goes similarly. “Again.” So does round three. “One more.” After his fourth consequential victory, Étoiles looks pensive, and Phil is getting a tad frustrated — he’s muted his comm for this, as he often does, but he can usher a guess at what Global chat looks like, spammed with his half-death messages and maybe a brief bout of concern from whoever else is online at the moment. “Fuck, man,” he rubs at his neck where a particularly vicious strike has left the skin an angry red, molted with purple. He’ll feel that in the morning, if he doesn’t get a respawn. “I don’t think I can do it. No black belt for me.”

“No, no, you can,” Étoiles insists, circling him — dull, greyed out eyes scanning for something. “I think…”

“Looking for something, king? How’s nebula-me looking?”

“Like the GOAT, you know that. But since you ask, you’re more blue today. With some red.”

“Cool. Wish I could see like you do, for a day.”

“You don’t. It’s pretty, but annoying. It’s harder to make out details inside the, ah…” he mumbles something in barely-legible French. “Je sais pas comment on dit. Les contours. The lines at the limits of a drawing.”

“Outlines?”

“Yes. I see the outlines well, but everything inside is messy. To me everything is just, shapes. And the bigger a thing is, the harder it is for me to understand it. Eggs are easy, because they are small and simple. People are harder.” He waves towards Phil. “Like, I can’t know if you’re smiling or frowning, I have to listen to how your voice sounds.”

“Huh. That’s interesting.”

Étoiles hums, stops at his side. Cocks his head like an attentive dog. “Ah. You should take your backpack off, Phil. It’s slowing you down.”

Oh. Philza shifts, hesitant. “I wear it all the time, it doesn’t nerf me that much.”

“No, I think it can make a difference. Let’s try it?”

Mh. He hadn’t planned on doing this today. Showing his kids had felt right, natural. Showing Fit had required a few deep breaths, but not much else. Étoiles… is a trickier case.

He does want to show him — the french warrior is one of his most trusted friends, and someone he knows he can rely on in a pinch. The guy is loyal to a fault, always looking at Phil like all it would take for him to lay down his life before him was a single word. It’s a bit scary, in a way, and always makes his hindbrain buzz pleasantly. But Phil held things like mutual trust in high regard, and Étoiles had broken that on the first day of Purgatory.

They had talked since then, and it’s clear to Phil now that it had been an honest mistake, a temporary lapse in judgement. Plus, it’s not as if Phil hadn’t lost his own mind within the first twenty-four hours in that red hellscape. Still, even though he has forgiven Étoiles, the cracks don’t feel completely healed just yet. “I don’t know, mate,” he pulls at one of the straps of his backpack self-consciously, feeling its weight pressing his wings tightly against his back. “I can’t get you under four hearts, I doubt taking it off will give me that much more.”

“Phil. Phiiiiil. Trust me?”

Tall order, Phil almost jokes, but refrains. “I do trust you.”

“Then trust what I’m saying. I know my shit, you’re being slowed down, you can’t spin as fast or jump as high with this thing, it’s basic physics. I want you to have all the chance on your side.”

Philza purses his lips, glances to where Tallulah sits off to the side. She jumps to her little feet and places down a sign, while Pomme rummages through her backpack next to her. He can’t help but coo when the bright ‘<3’ shows up in stark white against the magenta wood. “Right. Okay.”

Étoiles can’t see, not normally. So maybe he won’t be able to make them out, bound tightly against his back as they are. And if he does, then that is fine. No need to make a fuss of it. So Philza walks up to Tallulah and drops the black pack next to her, giving her a little headpat in passing. “Watch over that for me, okay?” he smiles at her, and she peeps at him with purpose, jumping on top of it and doing the egg equivalent of puffing up her chest. Pomme is in her own red backpack now, little legs kicking the air as she reaches as deep as she can. silly, egg, baby, egg, he croons. “I’ll be right back. Got a green ass to kick.”

“He is back,” Étoiles whoops when he steps onto the tatami. “Oh, he is ready, so ready. Are you full hearts?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. We go on three, one, two, th—”

Phil takes off at the first syllable, and oh, yeah, the lack of weight on his back means he can lean forward more without gravity winning, and that means he reaches Étoiles right as he reaches the end of his three. He thrusts his stick forward, the blunt tip digging itself right into the other’s abdomen with enough force to make him stumble back, winded and sputtering. “Argh—”

Phil doesn’t let him recover, getting a few good hits in before his opponent parries and attempts an upward swing that he barely evades by sending his body backwards, dangerously far. The weapon grazes his chin, and his wings try to open to regain balance but they’re still bound against him. “Shit—” he steps back quickly, arms pinwheeling, and it looks a little silly but it works, and he does not crash onto his back like an idiot.

Étoiles stares at him from the other side, breathing hard, eyes wide, a palm against his diaphragm. Then he smiles. “Oh. Ohohooo. Okay, now we’re talking. Let’s go.”

Moving more freely doesn’t make the fight easier, not by a long shot, because Étoiles adapts quickly — but it does make it more fun, and that’s already an improvement in Phil’s eyes. He gets less crits in, because jumping up leaves him too exposed to revenge strikes, but he gets more light hits in between sidesteps and mad dashes. “He is so fast!” Étoiles cheers, ducking to dodge a vicious strike to the head. “Oh, he is so good, go Phil go!”

Run, dodge, strike, strafe, dash. Every muscle in Phil’s body strains to keep up as he pushes it past its limits, arm aching from the repeated shocks against the stick, but he barely feels it thanks to the adrenaline flooding his system. A hit to the back of his knee makes him stumble, but he recovers into a roll and trips Étoiles with his stick in retaliation. The cucumber groans, scrambles to get up, and Phil sees an opening right there on his foes’ unprotected throat. He zeroes in on it, takes the first step, raises his weapon and—

There’s a jagged shape in his peripheral vision.

He falters. Tries not to look at it, tries to keep his eyes on target, target that’s about to get back up, quick, quick, do it.

There’s a purple shape in his peripheral vision.

He fails. Sharp angles and eerie glow, that shade he’s come to dread. The amethyst crystals hum out their ethereal song, taunting him. He doesn’t see Étoiles anymore, and his world is drowning in high-pitched static.

Purple. Purple everywhere. The room is too dark, too dark, darker yet darker.

Time slows down. No. The edges of his vision are fraying, dark tendrils creeping in. He feels himself falter, adrenaline making way for cortisol and making his hindbrain, no, fly, fly, run, nonono. He’s losing his footing, his grip around the stick growing slack, palms getting clammy. No, no, not now, please. His breathing picks up, faster than it’s been at any point of this duel. The amethysts glow an eerie violet, jagged shapes growing out of the thick, wooden beams around him, and he swears the room has gotten even darker. “Tallu—” He doesn’t make it to the end of the name, because then something smacks him in the back with unrestrained force.

Right on his left ulnare, the wingbone left exposed with no fat or muscle to cushion the blow.

Pain explodes throughout his left wing, the shock propagating all the way into his back and making him yell out, a gasp-screech that is very not human. Tallulah peeps loudly somewhere at the edge of his awareness, papa, no, bad! as he falls to his hands and knees, panic spiking, bad, bad, hurts, getoutgetout—

“Oh merde! Phil, ça va ?” He hears glass breaking, smells melon and gunpowder and something both earthy and spicy — Nether wart. Étoiles is healing him, putting a stop to their duel, and the realisation drags him out of that weird fugue state. “You never made that sound before, I think it’s bad. Are you okay?”

“Amethyst,” the older man growls between clenched teeth, letting the potion effects refill his health bar — fuck. Pain signals were always limited during PvP, but this had somehow broken through the server’s capping function. Étoiles makes a noise of incomprehension, his hands just hovering over Phil’s shoulder, not quite touching. “What?” he says, and Phil hears the patter of little feet rapidly coming closer. Pomme and Lullah.

“Please, just... Can you see the amethyst?”

He doesn’t know why he’s asking, of course his friend can’t see it, because that shit isn’t real. Or at least not to anyone but him. Through the haze he can feel Tallulah’s warm shell bump against his arm, hear her little worried chitters. He doesn’t trust himself to tell her he’s fine.

But then, Étoiles raises an eyebrow and turns his head towards the wall, blinks. A frustrated noise. “Euuuh Pomme, je t’adore hein, mais ça va pas trop avec le reste en fait. Tu peux les retirer steuplait ?” Pomme crouches, one-two, then summons a pickaxe and walks towards the crystals, and proceeds to casually break all of them.

Oh. Her backpack, all her rummaging. She’d been trying to decorate the dojo while they were busy sparring.

Philza lets out an uneven breath, runs a hand through his hair — his forehead is damp with cold sweat, and it sucks. Okay. Okay. Real, then. Just a really, really bad coincidence. Bad timing. Bad everything. He lets out a breath, the tight coil in his chest slowly loosening. “I’m sorry Pomme,” he gives the little egg a smile that he hopes to the Gods isn’t shaky. “Got distracted by the shiny, you know how it goes. Crow brain go brrrrr.”

Pomme falls dramatically on the floor at that, places a red sign that reads [sorry ;_;] “You’re good, you’re good, don’t worry.” Tallulah places a flower next to Pomme, bomp, [RIP manzanita]. Phil chuckles at their antics, heartbeat slowing down to a more normal pace. Jesus Christ. “You like shiny things, Phil?” Étoiles asks. “Did not know that.” He looks around, scans the dojo for any stray shine. “Mmmh. All good, I think. Sorry about Pomme, she likes amethyst stuff.” Then, quieter, “I think it reminds her of Baghera. She has an amethyst farm in her castle.”

Oh. Phil glances at Pomme, who thankfully seems fully absorbed in a sign-based conversation with Tallulah. “That makes sense. She must miss her a lot.”

(Dad, are you proud of me? I just killed a silverfish.)

“Can I see your wings, Phil?”

And, there it is. The other shoe. Phil lets out a heavy sigh, wincing when the movement makes his joint twinge in lingering pain — he’s pretty sure nothing’s actually broken or sprained, at least not any worse than before, but it still hurts. “So you saw them.”

“No no, I can’t. But I know they are there, somewhere. I’m sorry I hit them, I can’t tell where they are if you don’t have them out. Told you it was annoying.”

Ah. That makes more sense. He doubts Étoiles would voluntarily target them. Still… “How do you know about them? And, why?

“Philza, you need to understand something. And the thing is, I’m really dumb. I want to see them because maybe I can help, if I hurt them. I fix.”

“No you’re not, stop that. And you didn’t do any permanent damage, you’re fine.”

“No, wait. I’m stupid with lore, but I have eyes and ears. Jaiden showed she had wings, pretty sure Baghera has some but she hides them, I assumed you were the same.” Ah. Fair enough. Phil hasn’t been as subtle lately, and the crow jokes could only go for so long before people started to pick up on how literal they were. “Also, Kristin told me.”

Wait, what. “Wait, what?”

“Ye ye. First day of Purgatory, I died a lot. She said she wanted to exchange fofoca, so I told her about things, and she told me about you because she likes me. Did you know, I asked her if I could get wings too? It made her laugh. I guess tech support is not a high enough position to get flying benefits, sad times for me.”

Mother fucker. It’s hard to be upset when everything that spews out of Étoiles’ chattermouth is so consistently funny. “Well. I would’ve told you sooner than later, anyway. S’fine.”

“So you let me help.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll let you take a look, if that’ll make you feel better about it.”

“Let’s goooo, we got trust. Sit down please?”

Phil snorts and complies. He spots Tallulah running back towards him to climb onto his lap with a quiet warbe. good? Phil warbles back, good, yesyes, and rests his chin on top of his egg’s soft locks of hair. He hears Pomme hitting her dad behind him. “Ouais Pomme ?” Bomp, a short silence. “Badboy est là ? Ah ouaaais. Il veut encore t’exploiter pour ses boutons de l’enfer là ? POV, tu aides le fou du QSMP avec son escape game pour pas qu’il te tue.” More hits, Pomme’s little click-chirps. Étoiles laughs. “Okay, okay, t’inquiètes. Va l’aider, moi et Phil on va parler de trucs chiants de toute façon. Je te vois plus tard ?” The sound of a warpstone going off. “Saluuut.”

“Is Pomme leaving?”

“Yeah, she wants to build stuff with Badboy.”

“Oh god. Please tell me it’s not another find-the-button map.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna spend ten hours finding those fucking things again soon, let’s gooooo. So your wings, who else knows? I bet Fit knows. And your eggs.” Tallulah nods in Phil’s hold.

Étoiles’ lack of big reaction feels nice, but he supposes he should have expected it — the guy never makes a big deal out of anything. Except when it’s about banned materials. Or the Nether. And finding buttons, new trigger unlocked. “Add in pretty much everyone in the original Bolas, king,” he huffs as Étoiles settles behind him. His unseen presence makes a brief shiver of danger, danger go up Phil’s spine. It’s fine. It’s fine, he soothes himself, idly rubbing at the scar at the center of his chest through his robe. “I lost my shit with them around. Stopped caring as much. They saw them on day one.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? Half the people on this shit island are like, creatures. Not humans. Nobody cares. I’m literally a fruit, Phil.”

Phil chokes on his own spit. “Jesus Christ, you have no idea how funny what you just said was.” Tallulah chirps and wiggles in his hold, places a sign. [*side-eyes u*] it says, and that’s somehow even funnier than if she had actual eyes to side-eye people with instead of the blank expanse of her brown-spotted shell.

Étoiles blinks. He cocks his head to the side, in that specific way he does whenever he’s listening to what he calls the ‘voices of the stars’. (Something akin to his crows, from what the older man has been able to gather.) “Oooh. Oh, is it a gay joke Phil? That doesn’t work man, we are on Gay Island, everyone is gay here, or they don’t date at all. And you are incorrect, because I am in the second group, héhé.”

“Didn’t Antoine call you his boyfriend once?”

“He calls me a lot of things.” Étoiles shrugs. ”He’s also an asshole and my DJ partner and my friend and I love him very much, but no, it’s not like that. And I am married to dark metal and dungeons anyway. Now I’m going to unbind your wings and move them around, okay?”

“Mh. Go for it, king.”

To his credit, Étoiles is methodic in his approach — unknotting the binds and carefully tracing the upper edges of his left wing while the other spreads out with difficulty, a few black feathers coming loose. Étoiles lets out a surprised oh, gently grabs the other to help it unfurl, and Phil feels him poking at the bottom of his regrowing primaries — right where the white ones, usually hidden beneath the outer layer unless he spreads them wide, grow in diamond-like spots. “I know this pattern, right there. You have Elytrian code too, Phil? I thought it was just crow.”

“Ah, so Kristin didn’t tell you everything then.”

“No. And she didn’t like, out you, you know. She only told me because she knew I knew, she only confirmed it. People with wings have like, a way they move? I can’t explain it, I just see it.”

“Body language expert Étoiles, ey? Have you known a lot of avians before?”

Étoiles stays quiet for a second. When he speaks again, he sounds perplexed. “Huh. I don’t know. I guess I knew Baghera? Memory stuff, it’s annoying.”

Phil frowns. Right. “You told me a little about your childhood, though. The village, the farmers?”

“Yeah, that’s a thing that came back quickly after the crash. But everything after that, I don’t remember.”

“Man, fuck this island. I’m sorry.”

Étoiles hums. His fingers start combing through his bottom feathers, lingering among the white ones. “I think. I think I went to the End before, Phil.” His voice has gone softer, airy, like he’s not quite anchored in the present. “I think… maybe, I’ve seen Elytrians before.”

“You have?”

“Mmh. I think I killed one. Yeah. And I took its elytra. It was a good fight.”

The revelation doesn’t shock him — Elytrian hunting is a common activity for those who reach the End, and elytras are a highly sought-after item in most worlds. (Philza would know.) “Were you a hunter? Before the island.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t like hunters.” And Phil can’t see Étoile’s face from his position on the floor, but his words are dripping with contempt. “Hunting for yourself is one thing. Making money off it, it feels wrong. And they don’t even fight, they make traps. I don’t like that. If you’re too shit at fighting to win fairly against something, you don’t deserve the loot. Bâtards de merde.”

And Phil laughs, because this he understands. “Ever the honorable warrior, aren’t you Étoiles.”

“Dude, I have so much honor. I told you, I’m literally Japanese.”

“Right.”

“And like I said, I am your arms. I am your sword, Philza Minecraft.”

Phil’s wings fluff up slightly, a croon of ownership-claim threatening to spill out of his chest. Mine. “Étoiles…”

“I am, it’s not a bad thing! Purgatory sucked. I didn’t like it. But it was better at the end, when you were telling me what to do. Who to kill for you.”

Phil croons, leaning back into Étoiles’ careful hands. “I see. You never called me dad though.”

“Fuck that!” Étoiles laughs, bark-like and airy. “That cult leader shit was weird. You’re Philza.” And there’s a quality to the way he says it, something that feels both casual and reverent. “First of his name, GOAT of PvP, Avoider of Lore, greatest man alive—”

“Woah there—”

“—husband and Angel of Lady Death, and father of dragon eggs. You’re not my dad. Why everyone has daddy issues on this shit island?”

Phil snorts. “I don’t know, mate. But I won’t judge. I think it’s fine if seeing me as a father figure brought them comfort. It was literally hell out there.”

Étoiles hums. “Maybe. Also, you didn’t answer my question.” Phil lets out a confused huh. “Earlier, when I asked why you were hiding that you had wings.”

…Shit. Curse Étoiles’ one-track mind, his deflection tactic had been foiled. “It’s not— shit like prejudice I was afraid of, Étoiles,” he admits, quiet and somber. The other man stops his ministrations, fingers dug deep in his primary coverts. “I know this island is a goddamn circus show. Mousey screams she’s a demon to whoever will listen and nobody gives two shits, I don’t know why Bad even bothers pretending he’s not. That’s not the problem. It’s just…” He sighs. ”The Federation has eyes everywhere, man. I feel like if I show them off too much, they’ll fuck them up again. Maybe even worse than last time.”

Étoiles is silent. His motions resume, slower, more careful and deliberate. “The first time, you say,” he eventually hums. There’s something dangerous in his voice. “So it’s because of them, that they are like this? Your wings.”

“Pretty much. Woke up on the train, boom, clipped. No more flying for me. I don’t know why they didn’t do the same to Jaiden, she said she didn’t want to fly, or didn’t know how? I can’t remember too well, but maybe that’s why. Less of a threat. Honestly, I’m just glad they didn’t do it to her. She’s family now.” Even though her loyalties are a point of concern, he couldn’t help it. She is Bolas, she is flock. And he had held her as she screamed out the temporary loss of her shiny blue wings, that first night in Purgatory. “No avian deserves that shit.”

“You don’t either, Phil.”

“I know that.”

“I’m just saying it because you have the voice! The one you use when you think bad things.”

A wry smile. “How dare you call yourself dumb, man. How fucking dare you.”

“It’s what I do! I kill things, I see people’s true souls, and I shit on myself.”

They stay quiet after that. Étoiles stretches out his wings, flexing the joints one at a time, muttering quick apologies when Phil hisses a little too loud. “Sorry, sorry.”

“You’re good. Keep going.” So he does, until Phil no longer feels the pins and needles of blood flooding back into his wings, until the joints no longer feel like rusted cogs. He even gets a little preening in, dislodging matted down and crooked secondaries, and it feels nice. Tallulah is dozing off in his hold, warm and safe. His egg, his baby, his hatchling. “Thanks mate,” Phil hums, a little out of it by the end, hindbrain thrumming pleasantly. Flock, good, yesyes. “You’ve done that before, I can tell.”

“If I have, I don’t remember. Okay, now stand— sorry Tallulah, were you sleeping? Sorry, your dad has to stand so we can see. Yes, nice. Now try them.”

Phil chitters quietly, furling and unfurling his wings experimentally — the constant pain is still there, but minimal, very bearable, and they do feel less stuffy. Lighter. “It actually does, yeah.” Tallulah does a little dance at his side, twirling and playing a few cheery notes on her flute. “Good job, seriously.”

“No probleeeem, Phil, my bro. Last round?”

This guy, I swear. “I’m a little tired,” Phil groans, cracking his neck as he stands, stretches his wings out as far as he can — it still aches, but feels miles better. “But okay. I’m going to put Tallulah to bed real quick, she’s eepy.” Tallulah nods in confirmation, takes out her warpstone right as her papa does. “Then let’s fight, one more time. After that I’m going home and conking the fuck out.”

Étoiles makes a sound that probably means something like ‘holy shit say less king’. “Okay!”

Five minutes later, and he’s warping back to Étoiles’ cave like a man on a mission. And in a way, he is. “Welcome back, worthy challenger,” the cucumber greets him, crossed-legged in the middle of the dojo, and Phil snorts because the music box is blasting Smash Bros music now. “You’re such a fucking nerd, oh my God.”

“It gives me strength, Phil. It’s my final form.” Étoiles gets up, stick already in hand, bouncing on his heels with anticipation. “Autofeed still off?”

“Yup. How’s your sugar?” Étoiles checks his monitor quickly, gives a thumbs up. “Good. No holding back?”

“I never hold back, Phil. Let’s go.”

There is no countdown this time — both opponents slip into quiet assessment, circling each other slowly, slowly. Étoiles does a strange head-tilt, ears flicking to track Phil’s footsteps, the sounds of feathers ruffling. Phil’s eyes do not stray from him, hardened and focused, picking up on the change in the air. Étoiles wants him to go all out. So he will. And he has a plan.

(The bigger a thing is, the harder it is for me to understand it.)

Time to put that to the test, then.

Étoiles charges first this time, quick-footed, swerving at random moments to keep himself a hard-to-track target. Phil almost bursts into incredulous laughter because holy shit, he’s Naruto-running, what the fuck— but manages to keep his focus, waiting until the very last moment to thrust his wings downward with enough force to send him soaring abovehis opponent. Then, right as his feet touch the tatami and right as Étoiles screeches to a stop to spin back towards him

he spreads his wings

wide, wider

casting huge shadows on the four walls of the dojo

and lets his powers roll off of him like a dark mist, sparking with magic and wither-decay.

(The bigger a thing is, the harder it is for me to understand it.)

It’s a gamble, a costly one that saps his Feds-capped magic like crazy — but it pays off, because Étoiles staggers back, confusion etched across his features. His head subtly snaps in all directions, like he doesn’t know where to look, his ears swivelling to try and pinpoint him. Bingo. Phil has made his nebula-self big, toobig for Étoiles, rendering the warrior effectively blind. Well, double-blind.

Phil doesn’t wait for the other to find a counter to this, curls his wings forward then snaps them back — they launch him forward at breakneck speed and create a gust of wind that makes the paper lanterns swing on their hooks, and then Phil is slamming into Étoiles like a literal hurricane.

The plant hybrid gasps, fingers slackening from the sheer strength of the impact — his weapon slips out of his grasp to clatter against the ground and roll out of bounds. His body describes a perfect curve and hits the wooden floor with a loud thud. He barely has the time to blink the dizziness away before something presses against the side of his neck, and he freezes completely. “Gotcha,” Phil preens, looming above him. The end of his stick is right against Étoiles’ pulse point, the threat crystal clear, and he’s a writhing mass of burning stars and cosmic fury.

The energy rolling off of him washes over Étoiles in waves, makes his skin tingle, and he recognizes it as withering. Withering coming from Philza himself, whose outlines are impossible to pinpoint, lost in the cloud of magic and giant Angel wings.

...Okay, this is sick as hell, Étoiles thinks, and he can feel somethingwithin him grow, a presence rejoicing in the back of his mind. Ink bleeds into his eyes, then under it, twin lines of darkness going down his cheeks and neck. (Flashes of a white spiral on a dark expanse, of whispers and stolen Time.) He feels cold, but he feels good about it, and he’s not scared at all — this is fine, more than fine. Withering is harmless for Death-touched things. Things like him and Phil. He laughs, loud and ecstatic, this is fun, so fun! “Aaah. Clever bird, clever Phil, I like. Okay.”

Then something wraps around Phil’s ankle and pulls it forward, breaking his balance and making him hit the ground ass-first with a startled caw. He grits his teeth, shoots a glare towards his leg to see—

—blinks at the sight of a green vine wrapped around his ankle. His eyes trace along its length. He’s seen this before, but only once, months ago. Right after harvesting a freshly-regrown Étoiles out of the ground, a week after his Code-related demise. “Oh,” Philza says, and Étoiles smirks in return.

His tail is long, as long as he is tall, and covered in large, healthy green leaves. It swishes against the tatami in a serpentine motion, the leaves rustling quietly, and Phil notices a half-star-shaped kink at the end of it. It’s... well, it’s pretty adorable actually, but something tells him Étoiles wouldn’t like that descriptor. “You kept it,” he says instead, fight-darkened eyes sparkling with something like kinship-euphoria. “You grew it out.”

“I did, I listened to you. I keep it wrapped around my waist, it works.”

“Told you it could come in handy.”

“You did. You’re always right about things, Philza.” Étoiles steps into a fighting stance, hands curled into fists, tail lashing left and right like a whip. Phil understands, lets out a quiet chuckle as he sends his own weapon flying out of the arena. So they’re doing it this way, huh. More than fine with him. “Nothing’s off the table then,” he hums, hands curling like claws at his sides, sharpening talons glinting ominously in the light of paper lanterns. His friend hums approvingly, and it’s all Phil needs to pounce.

They no longer try to evade, instead crashing into each other to cause as much damage as quickly as possible. Étoiles throws a jab, Phil retaliates with a smack of his wing to destabilise the other before slashing at his chest, tearing at his shirt and drawing the first blood. Because yes, Étoiles bleeds, deep cuts marring his dark green skin, chlorophyll sticking to Phil’s hands. Étoiles hisses, gets behind him and wraps his tail around Phil’s throat to choke him. Phil gasps, coughs, briefly flails before smacking the other with his wings until the tail goes slack. Phil rips it off him and whirls around to pull at it sharply — Étoiles falls, but not before grabbing onto Phil’s robes to pull him down with him.

Things get messy after that — a flurry of feathers and leaves and punches and kicks, one that clocks Phil in the jaw and makes him taste blood, one at the side of his head that makes him see stars. He hisses, screeches, swipes, again and again, and Étoiles blocks some of them with his arms, arms that gain more and more tiger-stripe cuts, but many go through and eat at his health, heart after heart. The warrior retaliates with a headbutt that makes the Angel’s world darken for a second, burning blood getting into his eyes and half-blinding him. Maybe it’s more fair this way, not that it slows him down at all.

They punch, claw, snap their teeth at each other like rabid dogs — chipping at each other’s health with no care, no limits. Dark red and greenish white smear against the straw tatami, but that’s fine, that’s okay, they are playing, they are having fun, and Philza feels alive, alive, alive!

(The whole time, Étoiles never touches his wings. Which goes against the whole ‘nothing off the table’ thing, yet Philza is grateful for it. He’s also grateful none of the eggs are here to see this.)

Philza has no idea how long this lasts, lost in the thrill of a fight the likes of which he hasn’t experienced in decades. But eventually the doom of someone getting downed makes every muscle in his body lock up, and he’s still standing. Or, kneeling over Étoiles with his talons right above his jugular, the other hand pinning the warrior’s hands above his head to keep him from hitting back. Semantics.

Étoiles has gone limp, heaving, his body a canvas of bruises and bloody cuts. “I win,” Phil realizes, wings quivering, all fluffed up in a show of victory. “I… won.”

“Well played, well played,” his warrior wheezes out in response, and Phil’s never seen anyone so happy about getting their shit kicked. Except maybe one person. But he won, Phil won, Étoiles is down and he himself still has… yes, two hearts to spare. He has won. They can stop. Right here. Right now.

But then. Étoiles, stupid and crazy and wonderful Étoiles, tilts his head back to offer him his throat, his binary-scarred face twisted in a feral grin. Philza gasps and leans back a little, eyes wide “Take your win, my bro,” he chirps, happy as can be, tail thumping against the tatami like an overpet cat. Tap, tap, tap, the countdown to his demise if Phil doesn’t up him soon. “Do it. You won’t. No balls, no bolas.”

And those words are the last push Phil needs for his Elytrian code to take over. He bares his teeth, eyes darkening to a pitch black that eats up his entire sclera, until the white of Étoiles’ teeth gets reflected back at him — not that he can see it.

Phil’s wings spread out behind him, huge and dark and awe-inspiring even in their frayed state, and the withering aura that exudes from them paints Étoiles’ eternal night in bursts of star-speckled purples and reds and blues.

It’s beautiful. And it’s terrifying. Étoiles is about to get killed by an Angel of Death, and he’s never been so goddamn scared and excited in his life.

Phil feels insane. He’s going feral, going sicko mode, or whatever other colloquialism that means his mind is drowning in the thrill of hunt, hunt, prey, yesyes. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Étoiles scared before, but there’s no mistaking those too-wide eyes, that subtle tremor in his friend’s wrists as Phil’s hand tightens around them. He can smell it too, like cut grass left to decay in the hot sun, and it’s making the End’s superpredator in him go zoomies inside his skull.

He growls, low and bone-deep and dangerous, his talons pushing harder against the paling, sweat-damp skin of Étoiles’ neck. prey? flock. prey. prey? kill, eat, yesyes. Étoiles isn’t human, but he has something close to a heart, and he bleeds like one — greenish white chlorophyll that smells strong and tastes awful, bitter.

(Phil knows that, because Purgatory happened. More specifically, Bolas happened, gas masks and ritual sacrifices and fresh blood always lingering at the corner of their mouths. He misses his flock — misses all the ones that are still gone, carving cookie-cutter negative shapes in his heart — everything else about that hellscape, not so much anymore. Maybe he’s healing, just a little.)

His talons are just a hair away from perforating Étoiles’ jugular, so close to making not-quite-blood pour out like a fountain. But then he freezes, going silent, because the part of him that is still sane recognizes that this is a terrible idea.

It’s a terrible idea because Étoiles is bad at knowing when to stop, bad at spotting the line between what challenges him and what hurts him. And Philza understands that this, this is a bad. The cucumber hybrid is a creature of instants — fugue moments, rash decisions, the kind you would look back on later and go oh, yeah, that was dumb and maybe not worth it. Hence Philza has to be the responsible one, has to ignore his base instincts screeching at him to hunt, kill, kill, lest this ends badly. Like Étoiles getting mauled to death by what is supposed to be his most trusted friend. Again. (They don’t talk about that time. Just like they don’t talk about Étoiles’ betrayal, neither want to reminisce over Phil’s teeth tearing his throat out in the middle of a Hunger disaster. Not-so-fun fact: Étoiles doesn’t taste like cucumber at all.)

“Enabler,” the avian warbles, talons slowly lifting off the hollow of Étoiles’ throat. “M’not killing you.” And Étoiles, like the little shit that he is, has the gallto pout at him. “Why not?”

“Because then I’ll have to regrow your ass in my potato field for a week, you twat.” Also I think it’s not good for you, and my sanity is at an all-time low so I don’t need cold-blooded murder to push me over the edge, he adds in petto.

Étoiles blinks. Huffs out a laugh, something a little unhinged, but also a little relieved. “Ah, yeah! I forgot, because I respawned normally in Purgatory. Okay, you win.” The warrior’s smile softens to something more like him, and just like that, the tension vanishes, the buzz of fear and aggression replaced by something light and playful. Étoiles baps his hands against his chest, grabbing at his robe to tug him down into a hug.

And Philza’s hindbrain floods the rest of him with happy, happy, yesyes, because Étoiles isn’t really a touchy-feely person and neither is Phil, but this feels right. “GGs,” the crow says back, warbling and chirping like crazy, the black in his eyes receding. yesyes, mine, mine, yesyes, yesyes! And to his surprise, Étoiles responds, not with a crude imitation of his own bird sounds, but with something… different. And Phil’s not sure any word in his vocab could ever describe it accurately — but something deep within him knows that if starlight was a sound, this would certainly be it. “Oh, oh, he is so good. The GOAT, the actual GOAT, best man on the planet Philza Minecraft,” Étoiles mock-sobs against him. “He wakes up in the morning casually being the best, and he takes care of two eggs and says fuck to the president’s office from the wall, and he finally beats me. My legend, Felipe, Felipe!”

Phil shakes from the force of his hilarity — a regular occurrence whenever he hangs around his favourite pickle man for long enough. silly, he warbles between fits of belly-aching, hiccup-inducing laughter, and he leans down to nuzzle against his friend’s mess of dark green hair (leaves?). silly. silly. flock. “I do see Forever wave at me from his office sometimes,” he hums, once he’s calmed down enough to speak again. “He makes kissy faces at me through the glass, so I flip him off.”

Étoiles hums in acceptance, finally pushes Phil back to shimmy out from under him with a small héhé to lay on his back, starfish-style. Phil rolls onto his own back, and they both stare at the interlacing wooden beams of the dojo roof for a little while, basking in the fuzz of a fading adrenaline rush.

(Phil hasn’t seen his favourite Brazilian as much lately. Silly, sun, friend-protector. He probably has his hands full, what with returning to his political duties after so long. Still, Philza worries — he thinks of black tar clinging to sun-kissed skin and tired sienna eyes, above a smile that just doesn’t shine as bright as it used to.) “I kinda like it, though. It’s like our good morning. Never tell him I said that.”

“I wooooon’t, I promise.”

“Thank you. For the fights.” Philza closes his eyes. He is here, he is real, everything about this moment is so real. It’s comforting, a balm on his fraying psyche. “It was fun.”

“It was so fun. Please fight with me again like this sometime, no sticks, yes? You have to come back so I give you your black belt anyway.”

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

“I can hear you smiling, Phil. You want to, I knowww.”

“M’not smiling at all, dumbass.”

Étoiles does that high-pitched hum of his that means he’s not buying it, reaches towards his friend — his leader, his wielder, his death-touched Angel. Cool fingers, untouched by code, playfully trace over each of Philza’s features, feeling out the dimples and the crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes — pun very much intended. “You’re so bad at lying, Philza,” he sing-songs, playful and content. “I know you too well. Maybe I can’t see you, but I can see you.”

And goddammit, Philza actually does feel seen in this moment, anxieties melting away for now. How does he do it. How does this reckless, thrill-seeking cucumber man with a limited (albeit pretty good, and improving) grasp on English so consistently drop the most gut-punching lines in this entire server. Étoiles is something else. “...Yeah. I see you too, mate,” Phil breathes out, and the rough texture of the tatami is starting to dig criss-cross patterns into his back, but he wants to stay like this. Just a little longer.

(Philza is damaged goods. But so is Étoiles, and so is everyone he knows. But maybe they can both pretend, for a little while.)

#qsmp #qsmp fic #fanfic #philza #étoiles #codebreakers #commission

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