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ctrlhope · 1 month

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Butterfly (m)

synopsis: he’s been watching you. waiting, stalking his prey. waiting for you to tangle your pretty little wings into his web. chasing you. hunting you. making you play his games until you realise the truth that lies behind your eyes.

j.jungkook x f.reader

୧ ‧₊˚┊: wc: 3.6k

୧ ‧₊˚┊: genre: yandere, serial killer au, college au, dark content

୧ ‧₊˚┊: content: yandere!killer!jk, dubcon, predator / prey, manipulation, fear play, mask kink, slight sub space, slight knife play, strangers to lovers, “public” sex, drug use (alcohol), mentions of blood / injury, threats, allusions to kidnapping, dom!jk, fingering, rough sex, he’s mean but still sweet, obsessed!soft!jk at the end <33

୧ ‧₊˚┊: notes: found this in my drafts back from halloween and i never posted it! so here you go, to hold you over until my long fics are done <33 halloween fic in april lmaooo

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni -> dark content

Bum. Bum. Bum.

Your heartbeat is in your ears, pulse racing. It was too loud. Everything is too loud. It’s all you can hear. It’s all you can think about as your heels dig into the harsh forest floor. Your shoes long since been abandoned, mud caking your feet as you try to run. Tries to escape from the demon that had set his sights on you.

Him.

Fuck. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It really wasn’t. It was just supposed to be a fun halloween party! You didn’t really even know if you wanted to go to it or not. But your friends convinced you with the promise of free drinks and guys that were ‘cute enough’ for some random frat.

What they failed to mention? The simple fact that house was in the middle of nowhere. On one side a lake, the other a massive forest.

Like a pretty little trap meant to catch girls like you. Web tangled in the trees just watching for the prettiest butterfly to find its way into. To be caught in the den of monsters that lined every wall of the ancient house.

You were already disturbed when your friend's pretty jeep turned off the main roads, trailing through the woods. Realising just how distant from the rest of society you would be. How every bump of the car sent your little heart into a deeper flutter of anxiety.

Still, you kept your mouth shut. You didn’t want to ruin the night— for yourself or your friends. You trust them. They promised it would be fun. Plus! Their boyfriends were going to be there! So nothing would go wrong!

Yeah. It really wasn't their fault that a lunatic set his sights on you. Wasn’t their fault you started dancing with a man in a mask. Let him lead you to the backyard for a smoke, dumbly followed him deeper into the woods to see his favourite spot. Let him stuff his fingers into your little hole without even seeing his face, knowing his name.

Nah, you did all that on your own. Just a little kitten being led to the slaughter house.

“Okay babydoll…” He breathes into your ear, pumping two fingers deep inside of your cunt. Skirt that was barely covering anything pushed too far up your hips, showing the whole forest just how tight your walls cling to his fingers. How wet you are. How desperate you are for more.

“We’re gonna play a game, yeah?” You’re hardly able to respond, consciousness laced with toxins from earlier that night. Flush to your cheeks evidence enough of just how much you drank— the series of events that led you to this exact moment.

One he had been planning for awhile.

He smiles, throat letting out a low, almost nonexistent laugh. Slowly circling your clit with his thumb, almost mocking the way your back arches. Finding amusement in the way your fingers cling to his arm as his thrusts continue all to slow.

You’re needy, too needy. He knows that well enough. Can tell with the way your hips start to rock, start to squirm. The way your body starts to get bratty on him while your mind is too far in the clouds to realise the position you’ve found yourself in.

You’re cute. Too cute for him to take another second of this. Too cute for him to hold back anymore.

Wouldn’t want you getting too bratty on him anyway, would he? Then his personal treat, the slice of cake he's been waiting weeks to cut into will have to turn into a punishment. Ruin all the fun he’s worked so hard to prepare.

“‘Gonna need you to run into the woods. Fast and as far as you can…” He groans under his breath, the mere thought sending blood straight to his cock, filling his mind with nothing but pictures of you dirty on the forest floor, “And you gotta do your best to stay away from me yeah? Cause if I catch you… I gotta kill you and I wouldn't wanna have to do that… You’re too pretty to kill, you know?”

Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with him? What is he even talking about?

You try to process– try to understand the words that run off his tongue. But it's unfair, everything is stacked against you as he slides the mask off his face. Gives you a first look at his deep brown eyes. Lets you see how gorgeous he is for the very first time.

He didn’t even give you a chance to recover before he started counting down from 30. Doesn’t even move his hand away from your dripping cunt until 20– the expression on your face just pathetic. So close yet so far from the finish line.

Your race was nowhere close to its end. He’d make sure of it.

It wasn’t until his hand found your hip, gently tapping against the skin that your brain even had the chance to attempt processing his words. Figure out the exact meaning behind them while his lips continued to count down with each syllable.

Such pretty pink lips. Maybe he would let you kiss them if you tried hard enough. If you lean up just right maybe he would–

Wait. Wait. What’s happening? What did he say to you?

Your eyes glance down to your thighs, vision dazed as you try to figure out the object that suddenly pokes at your flesh. The sharp tip grazing your soft skin as you take in the metal; polished to perfection. The deep black handle resting securely in his palm, holding himself back.

Your eyes widen, familiarity cresting your features.

Shit. Shit!

You don’t even think about grabbing your own knife until 15, hand quickly reaching for your hip where you keep it tucked away. Too bad he had already taken it, knew the tool you always carried with you well.

Shit, his own personal little Nancy, huh? Perfect for him.

Survival instincts had to take over for you, forcing your feet to the ground. Urging your skirt down as low as it could possibly go as your legs take off in a direction you hope is the house.

Everything is all too much, it’s not enough. Every little sound is getting to you, making you feel like you’re going crazy. Making you feel like none of your senses can be trusted. Like nothing can be trusted except for the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

The woods– everything looks the same. You can't distinguish one thing from the next but you know you hear something getting closer. Too close.

If his words meant anything you need to keep fighting, keep trying to live. Even as pain stabs into your toes, sticks break under your feet. Even as you’re stabbed by bushes.

It was like the forest itself was out to get you. Like whatever beast behind it is your real enemy in all of this.

Maybe you can pretend it, maybe in your alcohol-addled brain that’s a little easier to manage than the man running behind you. The one with hunger in his heart that only your soul can satiate.

You try, you really do. But your legs can only move so fast. Can only take so much abuse before they start to slow. Lungs can only inhale so much air before they want to collapse.

Too bad he’s done this before. He can run.

And just as you start to be able to see the lights from the tree line, just as hope starts to fill your little heart, you’re forced into the dirt. Two arms wrap around you from behind, tackling your frame to the ground.

Your back presses against his chest as he keeps you there, his face right next to your ear as he pants. Breathe heavy in your ear, hearing the way it cracks every once and awhile as he tries to catch his breath. Lips almost on your ear while he keeps you there. Keeps you trapped under him.

Everything is starting to conflict in your pretty little head, body telling you to get away. Try to get him off. Wriggle your hand— anything out to try and fight back. Try and get away before he keeps his promise from before.

Yet, with every movement, every slight twist of your spine or kick of your legs under his heavy frame he only presses tighter, deeper against you. Presses his cock against your barely covered cunt. Makes you feel every inch of him that he plans to stuff inside. Make you unable to breathe while the rocks dig into your skin.

You put up a good fight, you really do. Better than anyone else. It’s too bad everything is going just a little bit haywire behind your eyes. The world starting to feel like a burden as you try to push away the arousal rushing to your gut.

Shit, you should be scared. Should be petrified of the psycho that took you into the woods, the psycho that threatened to kill you no more than ten minutes before. One that had a knife pressed to your skin and a scythe around your heart. But the chemicals in your brain are mixing into something that you can’t comprehend, can’t describe.

Everything feels like too much, he feels like too much and you have no clue what to do. Head completely gone to mush.

It’s almost easier that way.

“Almost got away, doll. But don’t worry. I’ve got you now.” His voice is rough, harsh as he tries to catch his breath. Teeth clamping against the crest of your ear, hips rolling against your cunt without a care in the world. Especially not for the state of your head. Not for the little world you find yourself slipping away into.

Too many extreme emotions happening will do that to you, won't they? Make you so confused that you’ll just take whatever you can manage. Even if that means plunging his blade into your pretty little heart or fucking you until your pussy wouldn’t even consider another filling it.

He prefers the latter. Too pretty for the former, huh?

He can feel the shift in your frame– one of extreme discomfort, entirely tense to one of a docile little pet put on display. The shift behind your eyes as everything becomes too much, little too difficult to understand. As you slip away just enough to make any feelings of pleasure elevate to new extremes. Let fear spur you on.

The only thoughts in your head are ones filled with him. The way it should be. Exactly should be.

Your hips move again, their last attempt to break free from his spell. Their last attempt to try and get away from the maniac. Yet it does nothing more than press his cock harder against your ass, the mock of a grind against the surface that leaves a pretty little mewl spilling from your lips. A grunt catching in his own.

Wow, you actually surprised him.

“Shit, not patient at all huh?” He smiles, lip quirking as he removes his body from you. Removes the only warmth provided in this hell.

You won't run. Not if you know what's good for you.

He doubts you do– led you right into his arms tonight. But that's okay. He can take over for you. Take over everything.

Hands grip your hips, pull you back against him. Let you imagine how sweet he could fuck you if you just behave. The soft rocking of hips against your own, the gentle way he moves compared to the way he holds you heavy on your mind.

You can’t help the moan that spills past your lips. The way your back arches to meet him better. No one could blame poor little you. No one could blame your mind turning off for just a little bit. Not when he has you. Not with the rough texture of his pants pushing against your cunt. Not with the ruined orgasm of before.

Arousal makes your panties stick uncomfortable to your skin. A disturbing wet patch forming against his own pants where you meet. A flutter erupting in your gut at the way he groans. Way he moves you with such ease.

He really could kill you if he wanted to.

You’re not sure if the realisation scares you or spurs you on.

It scares you more to know that it's the latter.

“I’m not either.” He huffs, air thick with fog, “Been too patient for you. Too fucking patient.”

He grunts, pushing your hips back. Back arching even farther against the forest floor. It almost hurts, it’s almost painful. Not that that really matters. Nothing matters when he grips the flesh of your ass, pulls the cheeks apart. Gets a good look at the mess he’s made of you. Can see clearly how wrecked his little girl is.

Pretty panties sticking against your cunt, thighs wobbly from all the effort of tonight. Shit, if he just hooks his finger under them, pulls them to the side he’ll get to see you all. Get to see your puffy lips, fluttering little hole. Get to fuck himself inside while you just lie there and take it. Get so drunk on his cock you might just fall in love.

Shit, maybe you already have, huh?

Good.

He forces your underwear to the side, stares in awe at the way your slick sticks to them. Imagines how pretty they’d look stuffed with his cum. How you’d tumble around the house, not letting a drop spill just for him.

Because you would know it’s what he wants.

“All of this for me?” He smiles, rubbing his thumb through your folds. Collecting your essence, spreading it around all messy just how he likes. How he knows you’ll like soon enough.

You can only whimper, clutch the ground as your head spins. Tries to catch up with every little minstration he makes. Tries to figure out what exactly is happening. What words he’s saying. How to get him to stop, if you want him to stop.

A shiver runs down your spine. You don’t think you do.

You’re not sure of anything anymore. Only the sound of a zipper running down, the shuffle of pants forced off hips. The hard head of a cock running against your folds like it owns them. Like it was made for them.

The stretch as he forces himself inside. The way it burns, stings with effort. The short, forceful movements as he fucks himself inside. Makes home in your cunt for no one else but him. Makes you unable to think of a soul other than him. Ruin you for all other men that come after.

God he must be big– how fucking big? You have no clue. You wish you could see. Look into those pretty, crazed eyes. Focus on the little mole under his lip as the pain turns into pleasure. Morphs something dark in your brain to like it, to take it just like a good girl. Make you crave him more than anything else.

But instead you stare at the dirt. Hands clutching at the surface as he fucks himself inside. Deeper and deeper with each slow calculating thrust. Fucks you full of whatever twisted definition of love he possess. Makes you see the light, the exact shimmer in his eyes. See that this is the only way to truly live.

“Shit, baby,” His voice is low, deeper than before as his hips finally meet your own. Finally fills you with nothing else other than him. “Been waiting too fucking long for this. Had to make me wait, huh? Fuck.”

His voice harsh, grip bruising as he tries to hold himself back. One last measly reprise he’ll allow you. One last second he’ll give you before he makes you completely dumb. Makes you see what he knows you need to.

“I-I don’t~” You whimper, though the words fall on deaf ears. Not that it mattered anyway, you didn’t even know what you were trying to say. Didn’t know anything except for the way your walls clamp around his cock. Body begging for him, urging him to start and never stop.

He sighs, dramatic, “Little slut, huh baby?”

A harsh thrust punctuates his words, jolting your body forward as you cry. Impatience, ecstasy? He isn’t sure which. Only can notice the way your fingers clench and unclench in the dirt. The way your pussy flutters around him.

“Aww…” He soothes, hips dragging out of your cunt before slowly thrusting back in. The pace slow, antagonising, “Poor thing is having a hard time…” His hips quicken a hair, pretty sounds falling from your lips at the movement.

“Gotta tell me what you need, baby. I can make it all happen then.” A low kiss is placed against your shoulder, the world crumbling around you.

You break.

“Please…” Your voice is soft, too soft, but he hears it. Feels himself cracking as you beg, feels himself lose his mind entirely.

Beg for him. Want him.

His hips suddenly snap, fucking himself into your cunt with force you never thought a human could possibly manage. Fast, hard. Pumping his cock into you to search for his own pleasure. His own release. Forcing you to take it, take all of him while you try to keep up. Try to find your own pleasure in the tangle of limbs.

You hate how easily you do. Or maybe you love it.

“God, fuck.” He can’t suppress his own moans, the feeling of your pussy wrapping so tight around him, squeezing him for all he’s worth is too much. Fills his head with even more nonsense about love. About destiny.

His hips would never even consider stopping. You feel too good. Feel too tight around his cock, feel like he should never stop fucking you. Keep you there forever.

“So perfect. So perfect for me,” His breath is harsh, his heart racing as your little sounds only spur him on. Let him know just how good you feel. Just how far you’ve fallen. Just how much farther you’re willing to drown in all things Jungkook.

“P-Please!” You whine, hips arching further. Moving him into the perfect position to scrape against your g-spot with every rough pound of his hips. No clue what you’re pleading for. No clue what you want other than him.

Don’t even know his name. Nothing other than how incessantly you crave him.

“Fucking brat.” He cusses, eyes pinching into a glare as you somehow clamp down tighter. Walls pulling him back in on every thrust. Milking him for everything he’s worth. Making sure you both know your place in this. Know your place after it, too.

“God, been waiting for this haven’t you?” He groans, hips stuttering. He’s too close, “Been waiting for me to fuck you like the pretty doll you are? Make me take everything from you?”

You can only manage a whine in response, cunt fluttering around him. Obsessing in his praise.

Maybe his words are true. Maybe he’s known the exact type of person you are since the moment he first saw you. Maybe he’s right. This is where you’re meant to be. Meant to be with him.

“Shit, yeah. I fucking knew it.” His voice cracks, “Call you a minx but we both know that isn’t true. Just don’t know how to think until you’re stuck on the end of a cock.”

His thrusts somehow pick up speed. Fuck you harder, deeper. He’s sure he could place his hand over your tummy, feel himself fucking you. Shit.

“My cock.” He growls, voice heavy in your ears.

You can't take it anymore. Can’t take another second of it. Nerves tied tight into knots explode, white dotting the corner of your vision as you moan for no one else other than him. Pleasure courses through your veins, pussy pulling him as he falls apart alongside you. A tsunami pulling you under, making it hard to breathe. Making you feel dead and alive at the same time.

Maybe the forest gods were the ones tormenting you. Making you feel better than you had ever thought possible before. Allowing you to see the light of the stars dancing in the sky, so far above the clouds with his cock still pressed so deep inside. Floating through the air as your orgasm runs through you.

He’s no better. A shell of a man as he slowly fucks him cum deeper into your cunt. As deep as you’ll allow. Marking you. Claiming you. Making sure you know your place, even as you finally collapse onto the floor. Finally come back to reality. Poor body too spent to focus on anything else.

It’s okay though, you don’t have to worry. Not about a thing.

He’ll take care of you. Fix you up nice and pretty for your next lesson. Take you away to his apartment, make you fall in love for real. Keep you there, with him, just like you’re meant to be.

Make all of the sick sides you try to hide come out to play. Make you realise you’re just like him.

He wouldn’t kill you. Ever. Even if he had killed the others, none of them matter. He’s been waiting for someone like you for so long. Itching to bring you home. And finally, finally you had fallen into his trap. His perfect little butterfly, caught in the web. Ready to be corrupted by the vicious spider. Ready for your wings to be clipped.

“Mine.”

2K notes · View notes

cybrsan · 3 months

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Light It Up! — K.HJ, P.SH

STORY SUMMARY: The year is 2077, and the world is a lawless dystopia where tech giants and major corporations hold all the power. Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa are an infamous criminal duo who have made names for themselves fighting against the "techno brainwashing" of society. Discovering they're on the brink of getting caught, they decide to go out with a bang—and who better to help them than their favorite plaything?

PAIRING: Kim Hongjoong x F!Reader x Park Seonghwa

RATING/GENRE: M ; smut ; criminal / cyberpunk / dystopian AU

WORD COUNT: 4.4k

WARNINGS: Arson, breaking and entering, clubbing, alcohol + drug use, pet names (doll, precious), rioting, violence

NSFW WARNINGS: Choking, creampie, cum stuffing, cunnilingis, deep throating, exhibitionism, fire play, fingering, free use, hair-pulling, knife play (light), multiple orgasms, play party, public sex, spitroasting, sub drop, threesome, overstimulation

A/N: Don't blame me, blame the MATZ m/v.

LINKS: Masterlist, cross-posted on AO3.

“And… there!”

After days of meticulous planning, organizing, and making shady, back-alley deals, it’s finally done. The last camera is in position—everything is ready for the big event. All that’s left for you to do is step back and admire your work.

Switching on your illegally procured holodeck, you press a few buttons and watch as the space around you completely transforms. What was once an abandoned warehouse is now a club that could rival any in the city center. Neon lights pulse to heavy synth, serving bots whiz from place to place, and the makeshift bar looks inviting enough with rows of expensive bottles on display. Whether or not the liquor in the bottles is worth the price, well… Hopefully people will be too distracted to notice.

The focal point, the one thing you are most proud of, is the transparent stage that extends at least 15 feet above the dance floor. Taking in the grandeur of it all is more than enough to get you excited for what's to come. You're certain that Hongjoong and Seonghwa will put on the performance of the century.

Today is incredibly important for both of them, and the fact that they have trusted you enough to include you more than makes up for the long hours and strenuous work. They’re currently out setting up their "grand finale," which they have been painstakingly cryptic about. You have your suspicions, not that you need or even want to know the specifics.

A low whistle pierces the air. "You really outdid yourself this time, doll."

You turn to look at Seonghwa as he enters, and your heart practically skips a beat when you take in his appearance—he must have changed in preparation for the big event. His hair, pulled away from his face, lets you focus on his features; dark eyes, full lips, all beautifully accented by his smoky makeup. His outfit is one you haven't seen on him before, but it suits him perfectly, from the gold chains hanging around his neck to the deep cut of his silk shirt.

"Thanks, Hwa," you reply bashfully, dusting off your hands on your jeans. "Just trying to do my part."

He approaches you, a smirk tugging at his lips. The way he stares at you, drinks you in… it makes you feel like a prey animal who has found itself in the sights of a predator. You blush and cast your gaze to the floor, suddenly fascinated by the specks of dirt at your feet.

"And you have done it spectacularly." He lifts your chin with his pointer finger, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "I think you deserve a reward."

Seonghwa drops his gaze to your lips for just a moment before he leans in, closing the space between you with an almost agonizing slowness. The kiss is gentle and commanding all at once and you shiver, immediately pulling him closer. The fatigue, the stress—all of it melts away.

His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling on it with just enough force to make you gasp. His tongue slides expertly against yours, the taste of him something sweet and darkly rich, like cherry liquor. It’s addictive. But the moment ends too soon for your liking, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

Seonghwa doesn’t pull away entirely, resting his forehead against yours as he lifts a hand to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. He lets his touch linger as he traces a path down your neck, lithe fingers playing with the necklace dangling above your chest. Three dainty, silver hearts. One for you, one for Seonghwa, and one for—

The rev of a motorcycle engine cuts through the air, and your head snaps toward the sound just in time to see Hongjoong park his bike at the door. He takes off his helmet and shakes out his hair which you’re surprised to see is freshly dyed. It almost makes you laugh; of course even as he’s out running errands for his coup de grâce, he finds time for fashion.

“Not starting the party without me, I hope?”

Hongjoong’s heeled boots click pleasantly atop the concrete flooring as he walks over to the two of you. His synthetic fur coat is a bright orange, the complete opposite of what one might expect a criminal on the run to wear. But both he and Seonghwa have never been ones for hiding.

“Never,” Seonghwa replies, clapping a hand on the back of the younger’s neck. “Did you get it done?”

Hongjoong scoffs in a teasing manner. “Did you doubt I would?”

“Of course not.” Seonghwa squeezes Hongjoong’s neck once before letting go and clapping his hands together. “Looks like it’s time for the show.”

A few hours later, the party is in full swing. The once-empty warehouse is now filled to the brim with people dressed in cloaks and masks for the sake of anonymity. Some are on the dance floor, grinding against each other, while others have drifted toward the bar, downing shots and laughing.

Toward the back of the room, there's a group huddled around a table, huffing glitter, black lace, and who knows what other kinds of drugs. Meanwhile, others are tangled together on couches, lost in the throes of ecstasy. The air is so thick with the smell of smoke and sweat that it almost makes you dizzy.

A hand wraps around your neck from behind, pulling you against a warm body, and you gasp. “That’ll be us later, precious,” Hongjoong whispers, hot breath fanning against your ear. Your nervousness ebbs away, immediately replaced by eagerness. “Do you like watching them? Or maybe you’d prefer to be the one being watched?”

You lean back against him, the hand around your neck a welcome pressure. “Both,” you breathe.

You feel his chest rumble with laughter. “Good.”

He separates from you, and you turn to face him. He seems so confident, so excited, that it’s hard to believe he and Seonghwa are about to paint targets on both of their backs. Hit by a wave of anxiety, you lean forward and kiss him. He immediately reciprocates, nipping at your bottom lip and eagerly exploring your mouth with his tongue.

Kissing him is always different than kissing Seonghwa. Seonghwa’s kisses are controlled, with a hidden power brewing behind them. There’s always a promise of more, a hint at what is to come when he finally lets go. On the other hand, Hongjoong kisses with reckless abandon. He is uninhibited, always ready to devour you whole. When he pulls back, a string of spit hangs between you before snapping.

“You nervous?” You nod, and he gently tweaks your chin between two fingers. “Don’t be. Those tech bastards have no idea what we have in store.”

“I just want the two of you to be safe.”

“And we will be,” he assures you. "After everything goes up in flames. Trust me, precious. Trust us.”

“I do.” And it’s true. You trust them with everything that you have.

“That’s our girl.” He kisses you again. “It’s time to go live.”

You take out your holodeck, and with the click of a button, all the cameras you set up switch on. You hurriedly switch channels through all the local stations, thrilled to see that it worked and the entire club is being streamed live to every device in the city.

You stop the music and make the lights go out, causing a hush to fall over the crowd. You shine one beam of light directly onto the stage and you watch as Seonghwa steps out to address the throng of people below. He is captivating and has no problem commanding all of the power in the room.

“Welcome one and all,” Seonghwa begins, voice booming over the speakers. “If you’re here, it means you are brave enough to fight against the corporations that enslave our society!”

Hongjoong steps up next to him, and while he’s smaller in stature, he exudes no less power. However, he stays silent as Seonghwa continues, “We will not be silenced any longer. Tonight, we raise our voices in defiance; we will no longer bow down to those who seek to control us!”

The crowd explodes into thunderous applause but immediately falls silent when Hongjoong raises a hand. "But tonight isn’t just about the revolution—it is also a celebration of our freedom, our individuality, and our unity. So let loose because everyone in the city is watching and we all know that, deep down, they wish they were us!”

Cheers and shouts fill the room once again as everyone raises their glasses in solidarity. Your heart swells with pride as you take it all in. You have become a part of something far greater than yourself and, just like your boys, you are willing to do whatever it takes to see it through to victory.

You switch the music and lights back on and the party resumes in full force. People seem to go even harder than they were before, playing up their hedonism for the cameras. Seonghwa and Hongjoong have disappeared into the crowd, likely to mingle and spread their message one-on-one.

Seonghwa favors the dance floor, hypnotizing those around him as he moves. A contented smile tugs at the corner of his lips as his hips sway to the beat, as beautiful as he is provocative. He flits from person to person, holding them close as he whispers into their ears. He occasionally catches you watching him, always making sure to tease you with a wink.

On the other hand, Hongjoong stalks the perimeter of the room, moving from group to group. His skill lies in charming people with his words, and tonight is no different. Everyone who speaks to him smiles and laughs, completely enamored with everything he says. He shakes hands, claps shoulders, and you have no doubt that if people weren’t loyal before, they will be when he’s through.

You stick to one of the quieter corners of the room in order to keep an eye on the cameras. You need to make sure that everything is running smoothly both in and out of the club; the last thing you need is for someone to reveal your location or try to hack into your network and ruin everything. You also keep a close eye on your boys, making sure they stay safe.

It’s past midnight by the time they come and find you. Hongjoong sits on your left, placing a hand on your thigh as he leans toward you and kisses your cheek. His lips linger a moment longer than necessary, and as he pulls back, he purrs, “You should be out there, dancing, having fun.”

“I am having fun,” you say, taking the champagne glass offered to you by Seonghwa.

Seonghwa sits on your right, throwing his arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his side. “You would be having even more fun if you put down the holodeck.”

“But—”

Hongjoong takes it from you, throwing it haphazardly onto the cushion beside him. “Don’t argue.”

He leans forward again, this time lightly nibbling your earlobe with his teeth. You gasp, knuckles turning white as you tighten your grip on your glass out of instinct. Seonghwa watches the two of you with half-lidded eyes, his hand trailing down your side and slipping underneath the hem of your shirt to trace patterns over your flushed skin.

“It’s a night for celebration, doll,” he murmurs. “You have done your job. The only thing we need from you now is… well, you.” He squeezes your hip and you jump slightly. “The badges will be here in a little over an hour according to one of my sources. While not as long as I’d like, it gives us just enough time to have a celebration of our own.”

Your thighs clench in anticipation—you know exactly what he’s hinting at.

"Lead the way, then," you say, setting your half-empty glass down.

Seonghwa’s gaze meets Hongjoong’s over your head, an unspoken agreement passing between them. They stand up and pull you toward the dance floor, surrounding you, one at your front and one at your back. You sway between them to a slow, seductive rhythm, closing your eyes as you let yourself enjoy their attention.

Seonghwa’s hands rest on your waist, pulling you against him as he starts to move his hips in tandem with yours, grinding against you. Meanwhile, Hongjoong cups your face, thumb tracing your bottom lip. His eyes are dark and intense as he captures your mouth with his own in a searing kiss.

Seonghwa’s grip tightens, fingers digging into your skin as he watches Hongjoong devour you. He keeps one hand on your hip while the other snakes around to cup the back of Hongjoong’s neck, causing the younger to moan into your mouth at the touch. Now with a possessive grip on you both, Seonghwa gets to work nipping and marking the exposed skin of your shoulder.

The room seems to disappear around you as they continue to explore you, their mouths and hands feeling like they are everywhere at once. It's intoxicating, even more so than the champagne you were drinking earlier. You feel Seonghwa’s hand trail even lower, disappearing under your waistline, snapping the band of your underwear against your skin.

You gasp and Hongjoong laughs against you, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling back with a satisfied smirk on his face. “Let’s give them a good show, hm?”

You let the two of them drag you onto the stage, cheeks ablaze as you realize exactly what they’re planning. You’re hyper aware of the fact that you are being watched; even though most of the club-goers are lost in their own pleasure, the viewers that are steaming have nothing better to do than keep their eyes locked on you.

Seonghwa clicks his tongue, squishing your cheeks between his fingers. “Look at our girl, acting so shy.” His fingers find your heart necklace, tugging at it just hard enough to make you gasp. “As if wearing this doesn’t mean we can do whatever we want to you, whenever and wherever we want.”

Hongjoong takes a switchblade out of his pocket, flipping it open with a maniacal grin on his face. He uses it to cut away your clothes, exposing your body for everyone to see. Your knees shake and whether it is out of anxiety or anticipation, you can’t tell.

He traces the tip of it against your skin, the cold metal leaving goosebumps in its wake. “We know you love it, precious,” he says. “Don’t you want everyone to see how good we make you feel? Think of all the viewers out there that will feel oh-so-scandalized but still won’t be able to look away. Not to mention all the greedy whores who will be getting themselves off to us, wishing they were in our places.”

Seonghwa pulls you against him just like he did on the dance floor, once again letting his fingers tease his way down your stomach. But this time, he lets them travel even lower, dipping into your folds.

“Look how wet you are just from this,” he remarks, bringing his fingers back up and spreading them so you can see the evidence of your own desire. He then extends them to Hongjoong who greedily laps at them, sucking them clean.

You whine, trying to keep your legs closed from embarrassment, knowing anyone below the stage can look right up at you and see exactly how aroused you are. But Seonghwa won’t let you, shoving his knee between your thighs. Almost instinctively, you grind down on it, letting another pathetic sound slip past your lips.

Hongjoong’s eyes glint with wicked delight at your reaction, his own hands reaching out to cup your breasts. “Someone’s eager,” he teases, tweaking a nipple between two fingers.

You hear a few wolf whistles from the crowd, a few lewd comments being thrown your way, but they only make you more excited.

“I…” You’re panting heavily, making it hard for you to speak. You have to take a deep breath before trying again. “I want you. Please.”

“Anything for you, doll,” Seonghwa coos, returning his attention to your core. He pushes in one finger all the way to his knuckle with no warning and, if it weren’t for his hold on you, your legs would have buckled.

“Fuck.” The curse slips from your lips, half whimper, half moan, as he continues pumping his finger inside your wet heat.

Hongjoong lowers his head, taking one of your nipples in his mouth as he pinches and tugs at the other. You grip his shoulders for purchase as your head lolls back to rest on Seonghwa’s chest, whining at the onslaught of sensation. The feeling of Seonghwa inside of you while Hongjoong lavishes his attention on your breasts is unlike anything you have ever felt.

As Seonghwa adds another finger, Hongjoong’s lips mark a path from your breasts, to your stomach, and then lower as he sinks to his knees in front of you. He grabs your thighs, fingers digging into your skin, just as his tongue finds your clit. His tongue draws figure eights around it as Seonghwa continues to pump his fingers relentlessly inside of you.

“T-too much…” you gasp. But neither of them slow down—if anything, feeling how close you are makes them double down on their efforts. Hongjoong sucks your clit into his mouth at the same time Seonghwa adds a third finger, curling them inside of you.

Seonghwa kisses the back of your ear, his hot breath making you shiver. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs.

That small bit of praise is all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge, eyes rolling back as your body goes taut with pleasure. Hongjoong eagerly laps up your release, only prolonging your orgasm. Seonghwa gently removes his fingers from you and you hear rather than see when he brings them to his mouth, tasting yourself on his skin.

Hongjoong pulls back, licking his lips to clean them of your release before his trademark smirk returns. “I think it’s time for you to return the favor, precious. Don’t you think, Hwa?”

Seonghwa trails a hand down your spine, humming. “I don’t know if she can handle it.”

“I can,” you gasp, eager to please them just as they did you. “I can, I promise. Anything you want.”

You almost jump from surprise as some spectators in the crowd start yelling their vulgar suggestions as to how exactly they think you should please your partners. You’re sure if you looked at your holodeck, the live chat would be filled with similar comments as well.

Hongjoong laughs, grabbing your face in his hand. “Don’t worry about them. You can have us however you like.”

Blushing, you say, “You choose.”

His eyes light up and he immediately looks behind you to Seonghwa. Just like earlier, some sort of silent communication passes between them, and then you feel Seonghwa’s hand on the small of your back, urging you to bend over.

“Why don’t you show our Joong what that pretty mouth of yours can do while I fill you up, hm?”

You barely have enough time to nod your agreement before Hongjoong is unbuckling his belt and freeing himself of his constraints. You nearly salivate at the sight of his cock, red and wanting. He grabs your hair and pulls, tugging you forward as much as he can with Seonghwa’s bruising grip on your waist keeping you in place. Tears prick at your eyes but it’s as pleasurable as it is painful, and you take him into your mouth eagerly.

The head of Seonghwa’s cock teases your folds before he finally pushes forward into you. He starts moving at a slow, torturous pace, pulling out of you before slamming right back in. Each thrust propels you forward, forcing you to take Hongjoong deeper into your mouth. You feel so full, so used. It’s incredible.

“Look at her,” Hongjoong coos, staring down at you. “Look at how well she takes us.”

Seonghwa just groans, grinding into you so deeply that you have to choke back a moan around Hongjoong’s cock. He’s gotten quieter, his thrusts sloppier, a telltale sign that he is losing himself in his own pleasure. Meanwhile, Hongjoong’s grip tightens around your hair, guiding your head back and forth on his length. Each thrust cuts off your air supply, making you see stars.

Seonghwa’s hand snakes around to your front, fingers finding your swollen clit. You moan again, and Hongjoong echoes you as the vibrations travel up his cock.

“Shit,” he curses. “So fucking good.”

Seonghwa’s thrusts grow increasingly erratic and you hear his breath hitch; instinctively, you clench around him, and he spills into you. His release sends you spiraling into your second orgasm of the night, walls fluttering around him as you milk his cock of every drop.

Hongjoong pulls out of your mouth not long after, squeezing the base of his shaft to prevent himself from following the two of you over the edge. The second Seonghwa steps away from you, he is taking his place, forcing himself inside of you before any of the elder’s cum can drip out.

“Hongjoong,” you gasp, nearly falling forward from the force of his thrusts. Seonghwa maneuvers himself so that he can support you, holding you in his arms as Hongjoong pounds into you with bruising force.

“Gonna fill you just like Hwa did,” he growls. “Make you mine. Ours. You’re ours.”

“Can’t… can’t…” Words escape you, your mind going blank.

“Yes, you can,” Seonghwa says, stroking your hair. “You can take it. You can come for us one more time.”

His voice is comforting, but you also hear the command in his tone. You choke out a sob, nodding weakly as Hongjoong guides your hips back against him again and again. You can feel another orgasm coming on already, the coil tightening in your stomach. Seonghwa continues to murmur words of praise, stopping only to pepper kisses along your heated skin.

The coil snaps and you cry out as you come undone, Hongjoong’s cock still buried deep inside of you. His hips stutter and he curses, his warm release mixing with Seonghwa’s. He slowly pulls out and you can feel as some of their cum trickle down your thighs. You collapse against Seonghwa completely, no longer able to stand on your own two legs.

You feel light-headed and blood pounds in your ears, muffling the cheers you assume are coming from the crowd. You’re too far gone to be embarrassed, and a lazy smile tugs at your lips—the three of you surely gave them the show of a lifetime.

Suddenly, you feel heat lick at your skin, and you snap back into yourself fully, cringing away from it. Your eyes focus, and you see Hongjoong flicking a lighter open and closed, open and closed.

“There’s our girl,” he remarks. He brings the lighter to your skin again, just close enough for you to feel the heat of it without it burning you. “I think we were a bit rough with you, precious. You were totally out of it, shivering and everything.”

Seonghwa is behind you again, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. You press further against him, squirming as the heat tickles your skin.

“Back with us?” Seonghwa asks.

You nod. “Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

“Okay. Hongjoong—enough.”

Hongjoong stops immediately, flipping the lighter closed with a tsk. “Fine. It’s gonna get hotter in a minute anyway.”

Now that you’re focused, you finally hear the shouting and crashing coming from below. The very people who were just watching you on stage are now rioting, destroying the warehouse and everything in it. The cameras, the bar, all of your hard work—now there is just destruction, everywhere you look.

You shoot up, hurriedly dressing yourself so that you are no longer the only one naked as panic begins to take hold. “What’s going on? Seonghwa, Hongjoong, we need to—”

You waver on your feet, nearly tripping. Luckily, Seonghwa catches you. “Calm down, it’s okay,” he says, hushing you. “This is all part of the plan.”

Hongjoong gestures to the crowd, pointing out some things you missed. “See how some of them are drenching the place with gasoline? We’re gonna light it up.”

Maybe you’re still delirious from your multiple orgasms, but you are having trouble understanding what the two of them mean. “Why? I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

“This was all a distraction,” Seonghwa explains. “The club, the livestream, us putting on a show. We did it so that all eyes would be on us, and all the badges would be wasting their resources trying to find our location.”

You nod slowly as the pieces begin to come together. “So, while I was setting all of this up…”

“We were out there. Planting bombs at some of the biggest tech headquarters in the city.” Hongjoong smiles, spreading his arms wide. “Our coup de grâce, just like we’ve been saying.”

Despite all of your suspicions, this is something you never would have been able to guess. Before you can even begin to truly comprehend the magnitude of what they’ve done, sirens pierce the air. Everyone screams and begins to run out of the warehouse. Seonghwa grabs your hand, and nods to Hongjoong. “Now!”

Hongjoong throws his lighter to the ground below and flames erupt instantly, devouring everything in sight. Luckily, most of the crowd has already escaped, and you feel confident no one should get caught in the aftermath. Still, it’s pandemonium, and smoke fills your lungs as Seonghwa pulls you closer, shielding you with his body as he hurries toward the nearest exit.

Hongjoong follows after you, but lags behind as he keeps looking over his shoulder at the fire with a sadistic grin on his face. “That’s how we do it,” he yells, voice barely audible over the blaze.

“Get yourself together,” Seonghwa barks. “We need to get out of here before the cops realize what’s going on and find us.”

Suddenly, Hongjoong trips, his foot catching on some loose debris. Seonghwa reacts instantly, yanking him back to his feet and throwing an arm around his waist. The three of you continue onward as the heat of the fire licks at your back. You crash through one of the exit doors, and stumble away into the night, disappearing into the sea of masked faces.

All across the nation, devices light up with the same headline: “City in Chaos as Blazing Inferno Distracts from Large-Scale Bombing of Tech Giants.”

“Nation-wide manhunt underway. Suspects Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa believed to be connected to an underground criminal group called The Black Pirates…”

NETWORKS: @cromernet @kflixnet @pirateeznet

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie @nebulousbrainsoup @ad0rechuu @sanniesbunnie @seonghwaddict @fruitcakebin @kickti @abby-grace @fireseo @yunhofingers @ohflorah @oiminho @baekbao @byuntrash101 @hyukssunflower @thatnerdytomboy @straykidsholicleigh

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gildedoak · 2 months

Text

"Now we just have to let it cook on low heat for two hours." "Kaaaaay. What do we do until then?" "OH, I'm sure we'll find SOMETHING to do."

I was listening to Water Wall from the Transistor OST and thought of Lucifer and Alastor dancing a slow tango to a bass-y jazz number in the hotel's expansive new kitchen. I ended up finding Unsolved by Mythical Score Society and it creates such a gentle, sexy mood. Loved how it turned out. ❤️

If anyone has additional music recommendations for this scenario, please pass them along! I'd love to hear them.

Not sure why, but the colors look more fluorescent in the photo than they really are. Must be the lighting.

ALSO, SOMEHOW I FORGOT TO ADD ALASTOR'S TAIL????

(Image description and reference photos under the cut)

[Image Description: A sketchbook page of four drawings of Lucifer and Alastor dancing a tango, with Alastor leading, as music plays in the background. Both men are missing their jackets, and are instead wearing kitchen aprons, with their shirt sleeves rolled up. Lucifer's apron is a buttery yellow, and Alastor's is lime green. Both look like they're actually enjoying themselves.

Various reference photos are featured under the cut.

End Image Description]

#my art #traditional media #sketches #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #radioapple #morningradio #duckiedeer #slow dance #soft intimate moments❤️#slow dancing in the kitchen #lucifer x alastor #alastor #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel fanart #photo references for the win

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forever--darling · 1 year

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iknimaya | neteyam x avatar!reader

summary: half a year later and it was finally time for you to make the trip to the hallelujah mountains and claim your ikran. one step closer to completing your training, you can't help but think about the future - specifically your future with neteyam. it's hard to get anywhere though with lo'ak trying to make plans of his own.

pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader

word count: 10.9k

warnings/notes: swearing, less enemies but not quite lovers, still very slow burn, a lot more angst to come -- fair warning, lo'ak x avatar!reader (one-sided), mutual secret pining, ikran flying, fluff

series masterlist | one of us: part four | requests are currently open for now

When a person becomes one of the people, or in other words, when they are born twice, the clan puts on a ceremony for them. It consists of dancing, feasting, and telling stories to one another — it’s all about connection. A connection between the people, their culture, and the new person who has become one of them. Kiri had been telling you about it nonstop, trying to install some confidence in you.

You would be covered in paint and stand before the clan asking them for their acceptance. The Olo’eyktan would approach you and in his eyes from Eywa, you would either be accepted or denied. If he accepts you, he will place his hands upon your shoulders, above your heart, and in turn, the rest of the clan would follow until they form a large circle around you. Interconnected as one, before Ewya. It’s there where you’d earn your place among the people, forever.

That isn’t the final test that decides your place among the Omatikaya, but only the ceremony. The final test is the hardest thing asked of a person; a journey, filled with an act fueled by the need to prove oneself. A journey into the Hallelujah Mountains where the individual would walk among the floating island of banshees. The most dangerous creature to fly within the sky, aside from the great leonopteryx, the last shadow. You must look one in the eye and if it tries to kill you, it means you have been chosen as a rider.

After that, it's up to you. Live or die. Walk among the people forever or become an outsider. Stay or be exiled. It all comes down to that final test. After spending six months training, learning, and integrating your entire life onto the planet you had once only seen from a glass window, you were about to face the final test. It all came down to that moment after perfecting the language, understanding the orders of energy transfers under Eywa, practicing Tsaheylu, and consummating the skill of hunting. It all came down to sealing the bond with the second deadliest creature of the sky.

It was the morning before you were set to make the trek toward the mountains with Neteyam, Jake, and a few other young Na’vi prospects looking to prove that they should be accepted among the clan as adults. Before the village, they were hoping to be seen and accepted by their parents and other adults alike that they were no longer incompetent children, but well-working individuals of society. You had more to prove than them and everyone knew it.

For you it was everything and that thought alone had you retreating into the forest just before sunrise, the foliage illuminating under your feet, as you found yourself among the only spot you could find peace to think. The river and the waterfall that Neteyam had shown you five months ago — the night you had called a truce to the immature behavior and sharp tension.

From that night on, that place had become his spot and yours. Most of the time, the two of you went together at night. It was a place where you could talk, swim, and whisper to one another about the inevitable future that was approaching the both of you far too quickly. Where yours hung in the balance, unknown about what was to come, his was certain.

When you finished your training, he would be close to completing his own. If you did this, completed this, he would no longer be the Olo’eyktan in training but the future Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya. He would work alongside Jake until one day the title would be bestowed on him when needed. He would no longer be seen as a boy but a man, and with that came making his bow from what was left of the wood of Home Tree, finishing a song bead for his songchord, and having a woman chosen for him.

Neteyam would be old enough and prove himself to have the ability to choose a woman within the village. However, where it would be any other man’s choice, you quickly realized for the future Olo’eyktan the privilege would not be the same. He would need a Tsahik to lead alongside him and his choice couldn’t withstand being wrong. The clan could suffer and Mo’at and Neytiri would work in their power to prevent that from happening.

As soon as his training was over, they would look to Eywa and choose his mate. From that moment on, they would be engaged, and as soon as he turned eighteen he was expected to consummate their marriage and their courtship. But then eighteen came and went and he had pushed it off. He had just turned nineteen and there was chatter going around, that they were already praying and looking to Eywa to guide them to an answer, and suddenly you couldn’t bear it.

It bothered you to no end, on top of the fear of not passing your final test. The thought of Neteyam being mated with another clan woman left the worst feeling in your stomach and made you so sick, but you shoved it down deep. So deep that no one else could possibly know about how you felt.

The very feelings that started to develop the first evening you met were later masked as dislike during that first month when you refused to listen to one another. It was seen as anger and hatred but after the night when he brought you here, to the river, that feeling still remained. The rage and the resentment were gone but the feelings deep within your stomach were still there, their grip tightly wrapped around your very being.

You knew though that once, or rather if accepted, traditionally one day you would have been able to be matched with someone. Asked by Eywa to be someone’s mate for the rest of your life but even if accepted, not all wishes and traditions are granted to dream walkers. Neytiri had expressed to you multiple times that you would still be a dream walker, a soul belonging to two bodies after the ceremony. It wouldn’t be fair to be mated with someone during the day but separate from them at night. She had lived that life once and she wouldn’t wish that upon any of the young men of their village, let alone one of her sons, who both seemed to have a strong connection with you. Mo’at agreed and therefore forbade you from being promised or even mated to a man of the village unless you became fully Na’vi.

That wouldn’t be happening anytime soon either because the more you wished to become full Na’vi, the more you began to separate from your former life. But Mo’at forbade that too. The transfer consisted of a ritual where the consciousness of a single being was transferred from one body to another. It had only been done twice and before that, no one knew for sure. After thousands of years, some things became more and more like folk tales. Out of those two rituals, only one survived. The one was Toruk Makto, Jake Sully.

With that case in point, Mo’at didn’t believe in your odds and she hadn’t asked Eywa enough about it to grant your request. It had been days ago when you had appeared in her hut, in a state of distress. After the whispers became louder about Neteyam’s future mate and the talk about your Iknimaya seemed to circulate the village.

It all was getting to you, not to mention the more connected you felt to this body, your avatar the body, the less you connected to your own. The original body you had spent almost ninteen prior years in, seemed to be failing you the longer you stayed in the link pod and with the Omatikaya.

The truth was your immune system was shot and somehow months ago you had contracted a virus and from there, things began to spiral. You were taking care of yourself less; by this time, you had become far too weak. Norm and Max had been trying to treat you with everything they had but with their resources limited they could only do so much. It had become worse just a few days prior when you for the first time ever delivered a successful clean kill. The testament of whether you were ready to complete the final test.

That night you had barely made it back to your own room by yourself as you had lost probably close to twenty pounds and had no strength left in your legs. Max had advised you or rather ordered you to take a few days off away from the link pod and lay in bed. You needed to rest and both he and Norm agreed that the strain on your body from the link process wasn’t helping you in the slightest, but you refused. You were too close, after so many long months, you were so close.

Not to mention that in this body, in this form, you couldn’t feel it — the weakness, the limitations, the way you felt yourself losing all hope of a normal life. In this body, you weren’t that and you refused to give it all up to become that version of yourself when you were this close. You suspected that Jake knew, that Norm had gotten in contact with him and told him about your human state but he hadn’t brought it up to you yet. Instead, he communicated it through lingering stares and the sudden extra attention you seemed to be getting from both his wife and his daughters.

On this day of all days though, that couldn’t have your attention, not when you were about to partake in the most important moment of your life. Sat at the edge of the river, you stared forward at the water, your arms wrapped tightly around your legs. Your chin leaned against your knees, deep in thought about all of the worst possible scenarios that occurred if you couldn’t do this.

You heard him before you saw him, he approached you from behind, his footsteps quiet as he stepped past low-hanging foliage like so many times before. How did you know it was him? Because it always was.

“Y/N?” The sound of your name fell from his lips like woodsprites on skin, softly, gently as if he didn’t want to scare you away. He stood behind you for a moment, staring forward matching where you were looking almost in uncertainty at your quietness. “Hey, what are you doing? You do realize we have to start making our way towards the mountains in about an hour.”

Silence was all he got in response as you continued to look forward at the water and the ripples that formed from a fish kissing the surface. His voice broke through your fears and worries with ease but it wasn’t enough to overpower them completely. You felt him sit next to you, close enough that his leg pressed against yours. He stared at the side of your face, those gold irises of his taking in every part of it and analyzing every one of your emotions. You felt his fingers brush against your skin as his hand delicately clasped around your forearm.

As if broken from your spell, you turned towards him, eyes swimming with every doubt in your body, “What if I can’t do this, Neteyam?”

“What?” his brows furrowed “How could you ask that?”

“What if I can’t claim an Ikran? Is that it? I just don’t become one of the people and then your parents exile me? I once again am nothing but an outsider? I don’t think I can do that. A life where I am not here every day in the village, or running through the forest. I don’t think I could stand it.”

He pulled you closer to him, a light chuckle falling from his lips, “Y/N. Woah, slow down.”

“And not being able to see everyone; your sisters, or Lo’ak, or Jake. I mean I don’t think I could ever live with never seeing any of them again. Not seeing you again…”

His hand tightened as if your words registered in his ears, the possibility of that flashing through his mind. He shook his head and focused instead on your widened eyes and how they refused to look away from him. “That won’t happen. You have this. We have trained for months and I know that—”

“But what if—”

“No, but anything, because you have this,” he said, tone solid, not bothering to let you finish your previous thought. A smile broke out across his lips then, “I thought you were tougher than this, Y/L/N.”

Usually, you would defy him, and argue with him but not like the two of you once did. Now those disagreements seemed to always be interlaced with teasing tones and sly smiles. You usually gave him a look filled with smugness just asking for him to try and regain control over you. This look on your face though didn’t appear anything like that though. Instead, you were deflated and falling apart at the seams.

“Me too,” you agreed.

“Y/N—” he started but his voice died quickly as you spoke again.

“If I do this, do you think the people will accept me?”

There was no hesitation on his part, “Of course, they will. Why would you ask me that?”

You looked away from him, pulling your arm away and scooting closer toward the edge of the river, disconnecting from him completely. He felt the warmth from his side disappear altogether as he watched you dip your legs into the water, your head hung low staring at your reflection.

“Pivlltxe’u (speak up)!” his voice was commanding of you then while he watched as you lifted your hands to look down at them.

“I can hear them, you know. After all this time the whispers still follow me around. My alien blood. That I am in a false body. That I am nothing like you but still in every way like them — the enemies, the sky people,” you admitted with a furrow in your brows.

Neteyam wasn’t quite sure what to say as even after the countless amount of nights the two of you had spent in that exact spot, you had never talked about something so serious. Something that was your past life, who you were, or what would be expected of you after this. Most of the time, you talked about him, and his future rather than your own.

“My father was like you.”

You laughed dryly, your hands dropping in your lap as your head lulled back slightly, “Jake Sully was not like me.”

“Except that he was,” Neteyam argued, glancing down at his own hands. His four-fingered hands didn’t resemble his father’s or his two siblings but something that still was deeply a part of his family.

“No,” you said, the harshness evident in your voice as your ears flattened back and your gaze fell back to your ten fingers, “Jake Sully was Toruk Makto. He led the clan to victory against the sky people. The very people who killed hundreds of innocent Omatikaya and refuse to leave this place in peace. He is not one of them.”

“And neither are you.”

He slid closer to you so that you could feel his warmth across your back and side. His chest pressed against your shoulder as he reached forward, his hand ghosting under yours. He took it and held it within his, the back of your hand pressed against his palm.

“You know what I see when I look at these hands?” he asked, voice soft, eyes locked on the side of your face, “It’s not the sky people or aliens in false bodies as everyone else calls them. No, I see my dad coming here and falling in love with my mom. I see him becoming one of the people, leading them to victory, and being appointed Olo’eyktan. I see my sister being born and then my brother.”

His breath slid across the side of your face, and you turned to look at him. The warmth of it then spread to your lips as he sat so close, stare already locked onto your own. Those gold eyes filled with specs of yellow and green haunted you at night every time you fell asleep; this was the first time you witnessed them so up close and personal in months. His gaze flickered down to your parted lips before darting back up to your eyes. You then felt his fingers curl around the back of your hand, slotting in between yours and intertwining them together.

You looked down at them and that warm feeling inside of you began to spread, like wildfire all throughout your entire body. He smiled as he continued, “When I look at these hands, I see you.”

Your own breath hitched in your throat and your eyes snapped back up to his, unsure if he really said those three words to you. Words you had been trying to earn from him for months. Though often used as a greeting, to some it meant so much more. It was said out of respect and in rare cases out of love.

“You can do this,” he said and you swore your heart stopped then and there.

You felt as if any words got stripped from your tongue and yanked back into your throat. You could only stare at him in disbelief taking note of the kindness in his eyes and how gentle his voice was. Five months ago things were so different, the way he looked at you was so different. Even if he still lectured you once in a while or hated how you sometimes did run off with Lo’ak, he was different. Ever since that night in the very same spot where he apologized and opened up himself to you, he wasn’t the same Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan. From then on it was like he promised himself and his people that he wouldn’t be that person again. It started with you.

His hand tightened around yours, but before you could say anything else, the sound of footsteps and brush being pulled aside was heard. Your eyes broke away from Neteyam’s and he followed where your attention had drifted to.

Lo’ak stood just a few feet away, frozen at the sight of his brother’s hand tightly clasped around yours. When he noticed how close the two of you were sitting his hands tightened at his sides and his eyebrows raised almost in shock. You noticed the way a lump formed in his throat as his gold eyes, appearing so much like Neteyam’s, locked onto his older brother.

It was almost as if they were having a silent conversation through their matched stares and rigid statues. Lo’ak shifted uncomfortably on his feet as he hadn’t seen the two of you like this. He thought he had known how the two of you felt about one another. His brother hated you and you couldn’t stand the attitude you got from the oldest Sully. You two never acted like this, let alone felt any certain way to justify why you sat so close, holding hands.

Suddenly, it felt like so much more than two people casually comforting one another. Because you and Neteyam were at each other’s throats for months, even if things weren’t entirely the same, the two of you never publicly acknowledged one another outside of lessons. Lo’ak wondered if it had all gone over his head. Were their stolen glances? Light touches anytime you walked by one another in the village? At night would Neteyam sneak out of their tent just to come to find you?

He was overthinking it, evident in how his eyes flickered from you to his older brother and then down to your joined hands. But how could he not when he felt like he was getting slapped across the face?

Neteyam able to read his brother’s expression sighed and released your hand from his — almost as if it was the easiest thing in the world, almost like he needed to. You scooted back from him, putting more distance between the two of you as Lo’ak’s eyes zoned in on you, lips still parted in shock.

“Uh what is going on? You two are friends now?” his voice was spiteful and you couldn’t help but let your mouth part in shock.

Neteyam’s eyebrows knitted together and he suddenly became annoyed with his brother’s attitude, “Lo’ak, don’t!”

“What, I was just asking,” he rolled his eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Dad says they’re ready. We should get going.”

You felt yourself inhale, your breath hitching as Lo’ak nodded his head in the direction of the village, refusing to make eye contact with his older brother. You looked over at Neteyam despite Lo’ak’s glare on your back, needing his reassurance one last time. He nodded at you approvingly, another reminder that you had this. His words ring in your ears and it was like suddenly his opinion was the only one that mattered. That whatever happened, what he thought about you was all that mattered.

Standing up, you approached Lo’ak as every moment of training seemed to flash before your eyes from beginning to end. It all led to this moment. Win or lose? That was up to you. He watched his brother stand too to follow the two of you as he wrapped his hand gently around your elbow.

You didn’t even question the touch from Lo’ak as over the course of the last six months he usually found some way to be touching you. Whether it was his palm on your lower back, legs brushing against one another during dinner, or his fingers trailing across the back of your hand while standing next to one another.

His physical touch had increased since you had gotten your avatar, but his flirting still remained the same. He was still the same Lo’ak you had met when you were a child and though Kiri had a lot to say about it, you constantly reminded her that things had not changed for either of you — especially for you.

The two of you walked alongside one another with Neteyam trailing back just enough to hear your conversation but not enough to be right on your heels. Something else that had lessened too, his need to hover over you and Lo’ak. With you spending so much more time with Neteyam, there was less time to be with his siblings so when Lo’ak did manage to swoop you away or convince you to sneak off somewhere, Neteyam turned a blind eye to it.

A part of you ignored the way your stomach dropped every time he let you go even when Lo’ak was asking you to leave early during a lesson. Neteyam would stare over at his brother and simply shrug and then just like that, you were being swept away in the opposite direction.

“You ready?” Lo’ak asked, his hand slipping down from your elbow to his side, but still close enough where you could feel his pinky bumping into yours.

It was something that had surely caught Neteyam’s eye. The way Lo’ak’s hand so clearly matched yours and even with the two of you walking side by side, he knew that your hand fit perfectly into his younger brother’s — five fingers and all. Just as he had noticed the certain way his younger brother had been looking at you lately as well as constantly trying to get your attention.

It plagued Neteyam with the worst feeling he had yet to encounter, one that stuck to him worse than the rage he had once pushed down so far. The frustration he once held for you didn’t match the way he felt now watching the two of you interact. A green monster their father had called it when he told his sons about it a few years ago — jealousy. It was a feeling that masked all others and slowly drove you mad if you let it.

“Yeah, I think so,” you replied softly, unable to look away from the forest before you as if you were taking it all in, in case it would be the last time.

“You think?” Lo’ak raised a single brow, “Please tell me you are more sure than that.”

Neteyam had heard the accusatory tone in his younger brother’s voice and he felt like scolding him for it as he noticed the way your ears twitched uneasily. What you needed right now was someone to reassure you not question you.

“I am…” your voice trailed off, your hand pulling away from where it hung by your side next to Lo’ak’s.

“Hey,” Lo’ak stopped, his hand grabbing your shoulder This made Neteyam pause too, a couple of feet behind the two of you. You glanced up at Lo’ak, hesitantly, gaze glancing from him and where the village sat just behind the tree line.

Lo’ak squeezed your shoulder in his, a smile forming across his lips, “You’re going to be fine.”

You nodded, but you seemed even less convinced now than you had been moments ago near the river, hand locked within Neteyam’s grasp. The older Sully boy cursed under his breath at his brother’s obliviousness, not able to read your feelings as easily as he could. He felt his whole body stiffen worse as he watched Lo’ak’s hand drift to your lower back and continue to guide you towards the village where their father was waiting with the other initiates.

“My dad and Neteyam will be with you the whole time and lead you up the mountain, okay? Then I’ll meet you up there as soon as I can,” Lo’ak explained even though you hadn’t asked, already aware of how the process would go from Neteyam explaining it thoroughly the night before.

“You’re not going with?” you asked, cautiously.

Lo’ak smiled at the question as the three of you broke through the brush and back into the village, “I have to do some things for my mom but I’ll fly to you when I am done. I’ll be there by the time you guys reach the top.”

You barely made a sound at his words, just continuing to walk through the village as a clear spectacle for everyone to look at. A show for them to whisper about and place bets on if you would manage to pass the final test or not. Their whispers were low and you folded into yourself as you observed the children pointing and the mumbling of the adults.

Lo’ak hadn’t spared a glance in your direction, but your frame relaxed briefly at the feeling of another person on your other side. It was Neteyam. He noticed the shift in your body language faster than anyone else. The way he walked overshadowed your figure slightly from others as if part of him wanted to protect you from everyone else and their loud mouths.

He as well as anyone else couldn’t deny how this day had proven to be a huge deal not just for every other Na’vi attempting it but because there was a dream walker among them attempting it too. It had been nearly nineteen years since the last dream walker climbed the Hallelujah Mountains and claimed his Ikran. The legend of Jake Sully was still talked about fondly by adults to their children as he was the first sky person to ever attempt it. As he went on to become Toruk Makto, those who had been too young to witness any of it at the time found their eyes forever focused on you — the next dream walker. The next sky person to try and live among them.

Neteyam could see it on all of their faces; the excitement, the curiosity that came when they saw you. Sure there were other young Omatikaya hoping to claim their Iknimaya but all eyes were on you. Especially considering it wasn’t just a test for you, but a test for the man who had taught you everything you knew. It was a testament to the future Olo’eyktan and if he had the capability to lead his people. Evident in the way all of the gold eyes would drift from you to him and how close he was walking next to you.

Now add in the fact that you were walking in between both of Toruk Makto’s sons, that sure also had an effect on people, noticeable in the way they would lower their hands to whisper to one another. He heard his name float in around his ears, accompanied by his younger brother’s. It was like adding that into consideration, you were shrinking further into his side.

As you approached the small group of young hunters just at the edge of the forest, you all found Jake standing proudly, speaking to all of them. Suddenly then as you stood just a few feet away, Lo’ak turned to you, his hand drifting down to yours. He squeezed it and wished you luck before he slipped away in the opposite direction towards his family’s tent.

Jake turned on his heels to see you standing there with his oldest son and he had to withhold the smile that was threatening to form on his face; one of pride almost even though you hadn’t done anything to have earned it. His eyes flickered to Neteyam and then back to you as the other four hunters, all many years younger than you, stared at you in wonder.

“You ready?” he asked, the same exact words Lo’ak had said only moments before and it brought on another wave of anxiety into your stomach.

You opened your mouth, lips parted slightly as if you were going to respond but no words emerged as you could feel all of their eyes burning holes into you. Neteyam’s gold eyes looked from his father to you but noticing your expression, he leaned closer to you, his hand ghosting over your back as he caught Jake’s gaze.

“She’s ready,” he said, without a question as his hand dropped from where it had hung in the air just over your shoulder blades. The warmth of it still ghosted across your skin though he hadn’t actually touched you.

Your fingers were digging into the ground above you, upper arms aching as you hung over the side of the mountain, feet barely hanging onto the side. Short of breath, you attempted to pull yourself up but grunted out of distress as your arms seemed to pop and ache at the attempt. You had felt weaker lately and you had a horrible suspicion why. Cursing under your breath, you glanced to your side, watching as each young hunter easily pulled themselves up. The nerves in your stomach increased again though Neteyam had spent the whole ride over on his direhorse, at your side sneaking you reassuring looks. It was like every few moments, his gold irises would drift back to you almost as if something about you guided him back.

You had thought no one would have noticed the small interaction but it was clear Jake Sully, and Toruk Makto had. He had been stealing his own glances in your direction having once been in your position and he was not surprised to find you riding in silence, chewing a hole into the bottom of your lip. His look was just as protective as his son’s and the pressure of their lingering gazes felt heavy on your chest.

Not to mention, every time the Olo’eyktan looked over his shoulder, he found his son already looking at you. The corner of Jake’s mouth lifted curiously as he watched the interaction between the two of you. The stolen glances how you would nod over to the older boy to assure him that you were alright. It had completely shifted, almost like a 180 from how the two of you interacted five months prior.

Just as you were about to try and swing your body up for the third time, a hand extended out to you. Neteyam stood on the edge, leaning forward, his arm out as any strong protector would. Jake watched closely as you shook your head at his son, eyes threatening him to back up and let you do this on your own. Neteyam sighed but took two steps back giving you a little more space.

The ache at this point was barely tolerable as you felt the rock scratching into your knees and your side. Sucking in a deep breath, you tightened your core and pulled yourself up. Arms bent at a ninety-degree angle, you swung one leg up and stood up with ease, slightly out of breath. Jake nodded approvingly and Neteyam held his hands up in defeat. You had this.

You followed the group across the floating mountain until you came across a waterfall, a small path hidden behind it that would lead to the other side. To the other side where all the Ikrans were, evident by the sounds of their flapping wings, and screeches. It made your ears twitch hesitantly as beads of sweat formed along your hairline.

You walked closely behind Jake, his tail flicking your leg as Neteyam stood behind you, his hand wrapping around your side to press along your hip as if to keep you from getting too close to the edge. You felt your breath hitch at the action but didn’t react to him, too nervous at the sight of the waterfall opening. Jake stopped right near the edge, looking over his shoulder to where you stood behind him

“Y/N, you okay going first?” he asked, cautiously, lowering his voice as he reached out to take your shoulder in his hand.

You nodded, but that didn’t feel like enough as you glanced past him to the crowd of creatures stalking around. All creatures with razor-sharp teeth and large claws. As your eyes met his again, there was a different look about you, “Yes.”

He smiled, squeezing your shoulder. You felt Neteyam lean closer from behind you, his chest meeting your back as his hand shifted upwards from your hip to your chest, his fingers pressed along your collarbone. His mouth opened softly to speak but they closed at the sound of a screech from behind you all on the other side of the waterfall. All heads turned and within seconds, another person emerged. Lo’ak appeared, his riding headpiece pulled down across his forehead, eyes finding yours immediately.

A grin occupied his face, “Hey, I told you I’d make it.”

As he looked past you though, he found his father giving him an unimpressed look, eyes settled into a blank look. He clicked his tongue back as if telling his younger son not to interfere as nine out of the ten times he would probably do something to cost this for you.

Lo’ak held his hands up defensively as he wedged his way between the other hunters and his brother, “Got it. I’ll be good.”

Sighing, you shifted your gaze back to Neteyam as his breath fanned across your face, “You can do this, okay? This you must feel inside. If it chooses you, move quickly just like we’ve practiced. You will have one chance.”

His words absorbed into you, your attention shifting from him back to the mountain ledge before you. You scanned the area, the banshees' colors reverberating off your eyes, like a reflection upon glass. You took one last deep breath, puffing your chest out as you stepped by Jake out from behind the waterfall. Confidence filled your statue as the Toruk Makto called your name.

Jake’s stare matched yours, flooded with determination interlaced with assurance, “Trust your instincts and trust your reflexes. Let your mind go blank and listen to your strong heart.”

You smiled for a moment before it fell away, a tight line taking its place. With your rope in hand, you unraveled it, able to hear the shuffling of the group of people stepping out from behind the waterfall. All were eager to watch the prospect, the dream walker, the sky person take on their Iknimaya. With the rope interlaced between your fingers, you swung it around as you stalked forward, slowly, the edges of the rocks digging into the bottoms of your feet.

Jake and Neteyam followed slowly as you stepped forward, eyes meeting each banshee you passed. A few flew off the large rock and with each one that disappeared from view, you felt the base of your stomach form into knots. The groups began to lessen as you moved forward near the edge of the mountain, saliva settling into the back of your throat.

None had shown an interest in killing you. None had shown an interest in your gold stare and sharp fangs. Not a single one could look you in the eye and bare its teeth. It was as if they could smell your alien blood, and see you as an unworthy rider, nothing like one of the Omatikaya. Your heart clenched as you slowly approached a third group of Ikrans. A bead of sweat slipped down from your forehead as you met all of their eyes, a small noise erupting from your throat resembling a yell.

Three of them flew off, their tails practically stuck in between their legs. Your anxiety spiked again until you found one Ikran still standing in front of you, its head turning towards you as it noticed you out of the corner of its eye. Its large yellow eyes zoned in on your predatory stance. You felt your ears flatten for a moment as you took in the creature. The large creature seemed to have the widest wingspan you had yet to have seen on an Ikran. Its skin was dark blue, so dark, it was almost black, resembling the night sky with bright purple and neon green markings.

“Shit,” you could hear Lo’ak from a few feet behind you as everyone else took in the Ikran’s large fangs and sharp talons.

You stood there, eyes widening in shock, tail flicking wildly behind you as the sound filtered over to you of someone smacking Lo’ak across the head. It was Neteyam no doubt. Shuffling awkwardly on your heels, you swung the rope around in your hand as the creature’s claws scratched at the ground beneath it. Its jaws were razor sharp and you felt something spark in you as it leaned its head back and opened its mouth wide revealing them. The hiss that erupted in your ears snapped you out of your daze and you watched as it stood up on its hind legs, snarling nonstop.

Tilting your head to the side, you felt all doubt, all fear be ripped free from your body. All that was left in its place was confidence in the form of adrenaline coursing through your veins. A small smirk formed across your face and Neteyam watched swelling with both pride and admiration, his eyes flicking back and forth from you to the beast before you. As the Ikran let out another loud screech, your ears flattened across your head, nose wrinkling as you revealed your fangs and hissed — a challenge you were displaying to the Ikran.

“You gotta move, Y/N,” Jake said, lowly under his breath, but you heard it, as your entire body broke free from the hold the Ikran’s gaze had on it.

“Let’s do this,” you mumbled, swinging the rope around in your hand as you stepped forward toward the Ikran.

Just as you took another step forward, the creature jumped forward, its mouth opening revealing its teeth again. It chomped trying to get a hold of you but your reflexes were too fast. You dodged it by leaping to the side and swinging the rope over the Ikran’s snout. It yelled, the scream high pitched, as the rope wrapped completely around its jaw locking it shut. You swung a leg over the creature, wrapping yourself around its neck. Arms locked around its head you struggled as the Ikran began to panic.

It stood upon its hind legs, wings flapping rapidly as its head thrashed back against you. Your grip kept slipping from around the Ikran, leaving strings of noises to slip from your mouth as it flapped around obnoxiously. Neteyam moved closer but still kept a reasonable distance between you and the beast. He hissed under his breath as he felt your window closing.

“Make the bond!” he yelled.

With one arm banded across the Ikran’s snout, you groaned as you reached for its queue, all strength leaving your body slowly as you continued to battle the large animal. As you felt the smooth skin of the queue within your fingers, the Ikran growled and threw its head back. Connecting with your body, you felt your grip loosen from the animal and disappear completely.

A yell erupted from your throat as you bounced off the back of the Ikran and collided with the hard ground. Your side hit the harsh material with a thud and you hissed out in pain as you felt it scratch against your skin. Legs limply on the ground and chest heaving up and down, you peered up at the Ikran as it slowly turned around to face you.

The rope was still tightly bound around its mouth but it was clear that your attempts had only pissed it off. It tried to break free from the constriction around its jaw but stopped for a moment when the cable didn’t snap. Its eyes found your frame on the ground, laying on your back, leaning upon your elbows. Body shaking, you were trying to catch your breath as the Ikran stalked forward, claws ripping holes into the ground. Remaining completely still, you peered up at it, eyes narrowed and a glare reflected across your face. This was the moment, the challenge at hand, the turning point of your entire life.

Win or lose?

Live or die?

Lo’ak bounded forward, trying to get to you, but he was stopped by his brother throwing an arm across his chest. Neteyam’s eyes had never left you and though his heart was clenching within his chest, a greater feeling had appeared within him. One that felt as if it had been sent from Eywa. A reminder of your strength, your fierceness, and the warrior that had formed deep within your bones. A smirk formed on his face as he watched the intensity in your eyes increase.

Your gold eyes hadn’t moved from the Ikran and as you looked deep into its black pupils, you saw your whole life flash across your eyes like a movie. Your father’s death. The great war, that convinced your mother to flee back to Earth. A newborn baby unable to travel within Cryo. A childhood stolen in replace of living in the confines of a lab. Spider’s resentment towards you. A human body you refused to accept as a reflection of who you were as a person. Arriving at the village, the constant judgments and fear sent your way from the villagers. The word alien being branded across your forehead.

It all had led to that moment and it all reflected back at you as you were able to see your reflection within the Ikran’s eyes. Smooth blue skin, gold eyes, white freckles, and a challenging curl to your lips. You, this was the real you.

One of the people or an outsider?

Ears twitching, your stare became deadly as you pushed out another hiss from your throat, the sound igniting your whole body with all of the energy and trust you had left. Just as the Ikran bounded forward, lifting its body, claws glistening in the sunlight. You tucked and rolled to the side out of the way just as the beast slammed its feet down into the spot you initially had been.

Moving quickly, you jumped up upon a rock and leaped for the Ikran. With a huff, you grabbed onto the animal, hand locking around its queue. Your legs folded across the Ikran’s head, tucking it in closer to its body as the creature flopped down onto its side. With your shoulder digging into the ground, you yelled out in pain as you reached behind for your own queue. Tilting the Ikran’s queue upwards, you moved yours towards it and felt your whole body relax as the pink nerve endings finally connected.

Chest still heaving up and down, your body collapsed for a moment as the Ikran’s pupils widened dilating. It convulsed again, as your hands wrapped tightly around the rope, “Stop!”

The Ikran’s body fell limp, relaxing at your words, and within a matter of seconds, its breathing leveled out. Staring down at the creature, a smile appeared across your lips, as it stared back at you and you were able to feel the way your heartbeats moved in sync with one another. Its breath you could feel within your lungs and it relaxed under your touch.

Kneeling over the Ikran’s neck, you felt the dirt sticking to your legs as you reached for the rope locked around its jaw. It loosened and slowly the Ikran rose from the ground, stretching out its mouth. It purred underneath your palms as the Ikran slowly stood up, taking you with it. Your feet were lifted off the ground, and you settled back against the base of the creature’s back, readjusting your grip.

Cheers were heard and as you looked up, you found the young hunters pumping their fists in the air and yelling your name. Jake was grinning from ear to ear, a look of pride swelling on his face. The same look both of his sons got when they completed their Iknimaya. Neteyam stood, shoulders pulled back, chest puffed out with the same look that his father displayed but somehow his tugged at your heart more.

He stepped forward as if he was going to approach you, but he stopped as Lo’ak blew past him. A large smile occupied his face, but you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing over his shoulder to his brother instead.

“First flight seals the bond," Lo’ak let out a yell and in an instant, there was a flash of blue and green and his Ikran was landing right beside yours. He hopped on, connecting his queue to the animal, before flying off into the sky, “Y/N, come on.”

You waited for a moment, stuck in a place where you weren’t sure where to go — almost as if your heart was split in half. Neteyam stood in the same spot, his eyes having never left yours and from where he stood he could practically feel the anticipation buzzing through your skin.

He wanted more than anything for it to be him — to be the one you would fly through the sky with on your first flight. After so many months of teaching you and spending endless nights under the trees by the river, he hoped it could be him. But at that moment it wasn’t; even though it was Lo’ak he couldn’t steal this experience from you. He wouldn’t, especially since he knew what it was like to be in your position.

Even when a part of you wanted him to give you a reason to stay and wait for him and his Ikran, you also couldn’t deny how restless you felt there on that rock. He could see it on your face, clear as day, like how he had seemed to learn every other one of your mannerisms in the last half of the year. Biting onto your lower lip, you couldn’t stop the way your eyes had softened over time as you had gotten to know this young man, who somehow had snuck up behind you and stole your heart.

It was something you hadn’t fully realized until that moment when he smiled over at you, his fangs poking out just past his lips. It wasn’t until he looked up after his brother and nodded his head in the direction, clicking his tongue softly in the air as if he was giving you permission.

Curling your fingers, you brought your hand up near your forehead and extended it out towards him. I see you.

With that you called out to your Ikran, the word fly falling from the tip of your tongue. It took off into the sky, wings extended out to their full length, as it dove straight down off of the mountain. Neteyam ran forwards towards the edge and peered down into the clouds where you and your Ikran had disappeared. But then in a matter of seconds, the clouds broke apart and you appeared again. Soaring through the sky, he watched as the Ikran leveled out, the image of your last action leaving an imprint in his mind and a permanent smile on his face.

Jake had been right once, in his video log. A direhorse was one thing but flying an Ikran, a person was made for this. You were made for this. With your feet perched along the Ikran’s sides, your hands clutched around its queues, giving quiet commands — it was as if you were at peace, completely free from the cage that your human body had turned into, free from the past that had plagued your memories, and the expectations that a dream walker held.

Feeling the wind on your face and the sun soaking into your skin, you were brought back to that first day with the avatar, when you first walked out of the lab. It felt just like this, able to take a deep breath without the need for an oxygen mask. It was a freedom and a privilege, just as this was.

As you looked around at the floating mountains, and the other banshees floating around you, you knew it then at that moment that you belonged there. You were a warrior, a rider, an Omatikaya, and in one way or another you were going to convince Mo’at of that and every other Na’vi. She was going to approve your request for the transfer ritual if it was the last thing you would ever do.

You had heard him before you saw him. A yell and then an echo across the sky followed by a shadow above you. Looking up, you found Lo’ak smiling down at you, the same look in his eye that you knew filled yours. The look of an Omatikaya rider. He veered left and then swooped down, his Ikran bumping into yours lightly. You gasped, hands instinctively tightening around your Ikran’s queues as your balance shifted.

Looking back over to Lo’ak, you found him laughing, a devious expression the only way you could describe it on his face. Withholding your own smile, silently you advised your Ikran to lean to the right, straight into Lo’ak’s lane. Your Ikran’s wings bumped into his lightly causing him to bank off to avoid the two of you colliding. When he looked over at you, you couldn’t help but let your head lean back as your sweet laugh escaped your throat.

You flew like that for a while, him casually bumping into you just to either get on your nerves or hear your laugh again. And somehow even though you wished Neteyam was still there to share that moment with you, you couldn’t help but indulge in the happiness you felt to be with Lo’ak — your long-time friend, the boy who had been flirting with you senselessly, but someone who would never once give up on you. He was loyal and even with your heart wishing for something else entirely, you knew it was a special moment to share with him.

Hours had gone by and finally, as the sun began to fall from the sky, Lo’ak had gotten your attention. You thought maybe he would lead you home, back to the village, but instead, he nodded his head in another direction, back into the floating mountains. Even with your lack of direction, you knew it wasn’t the right way, but you followed him anyway. He landed on one that had seemed so random to you, but you followed, commanding your Ikran to land.

Listening, it came to a stop near his, and for a moment before you got down from the creature, you looked over to Lo’ak still sitting upon his, and the largest smile formed across your face. Giggling, you shook your head in utter disbelief at the events that had happened the last few hours that were real and now engraved within your memory and soul forever. A look of his own formed across his face as both of your laughter faded.

He tilted his head to the side, something in his eyes completely different than anything you had seen before, a fondness of sorts, “Look at you, girl! You’re a natural already.”

His gaze was soft, too soft, you knew that. You looked away suddenly dismounting from the Ikran, letting your queue disconnect for the first time in hours. Letting out a soft breath, Lo’ak followed suit and he approached you to find you already staring over the edge at the fast-setting sun.

He chuckled, “This was where Neteyam and I both went when we each completed our Iknimaya. We flew for hours unable to convince one another to return home to the village. Even when he had completed his a few years before I did, he always flew like it was his first time — like we both could stay up here forever.”

You slowly turned your head to face him, his words drawing you in. He smiled at the memory, “Then even after we had been flying for hours unend we would come here, to this spot, and watch the sunset, the evening eclipse. Shit, you should have seen how mad our mom used to get at us when we would return home after dark. It was scary, honestly.”

“You still do that?” you asked suddenly, your own voice surprising you, “Fly together long after dark.”

Lo’ak shook his head, his smile slipping from his face just as quickly as it had appeared, “No, at least not with Neteyam. For the last year or so, he's been too busy with training. His focus is entirely put on our father and the role of being the future Olo’eyktan. Dad has him on a tight schedule.”

“But what about now? He is done training me. Shouldn't he have some extra time now?”

“No, because even if he won't be spending all day every day with you, he'll have other things to worry about. Olo'eyktan things with my father; raids, runs, lookouts, spotting.”

You nodded, his words making you once again realize, that this was it. Neteyam had done his job and no longer would you be spending days with him in the forest learning the language, hunting, or about the energies of the world. No more nights sneaking off into the forest just to breathe, away from the pressures the adults presented. He had done what was asked of him — teach you the ways of the Omatikaya.

“Yeah, I guess that would make sense,” you replied, unable to stop the ache that appeared in your chest or the need to pull on the tips of your fingers.

He examined the expression on your face and the disappointment that seemed to flood your system. He couldn’t help his next statement from slipping out of his mouth. “Yeah, so it's a good thing my mom and grandmother are choosing his mate for him? Because I don't know if he would ever have the time to do it himself."

“Hm, the next Tsahik, right? It’s an important role and an important choice. That will be happening soon then?”

“Yes, I think so, at least announced soon anyway. Mo'at has been looking for quite a while,” Lo’ak agreed, suddenly leaning closer to you as the thought once again plagued his mind of what he had overheard days ago. “Have you thought about it at all?”

Your brows knitted together as his question filtered through your ears. Looking away from the eclipse, you matched his stare, a questioning look filling your eyes as an unsure chuckle rumbled within your throat, “Thought about what?”

He was quiet then, eyes narrowing as they suddenly scanned your face, unsure if he should clarify what he had asked. Lo’ak turned to you fully, reaching out as if he was going to take your hands in his but then after a moment, they dropped back to his sides, a defeated sigh falling from his lips.

“Are you asking me about—”

“A mate?” he cut you off, “Yes.”

“What?” You sputtered out, eyes widening suddenly as your stomach tightened at the sudden shift in conversation. “Lo’ak—”

“I am asking you about whether or not you’ve thought about it,” he clarified, voice once again silencing yours as his bright eyes never seemed to leave yours, “You’re already eighteen and—”

“Lo’ak, stop,” you said, lifting a hand and sure enough his voice fell silent with the rest of his thought driting away to the back of his mind. “You and I both know that I can’t be mated with anyone. It is wrong.”

“But not impossible. You can. It’s just frowned upon.”

Your mouth fell open agape, afraid of where he was going with the words he had so clearly admitted to you. The way he was looking at you as he said it left a feeling in your stomach, almost as if it was dread, twisting away at your insides.

Yes, it wasn’t impossible, but Neytiri had explicitly warned you how wrong it was and what kinds of problems it would cause. Especially, considering Mo’at had denied your request, it would be even worse if you mated with someone without any of their blessings, defying their direct set rules.

It also wasn't Lo’ak that came to mind when you put in the request. Sure a large part of you could always say you went to Mo'at for yourself, for the health you were currently lacking when you left the village at night and returned to the lab, but there was another reason — another person. It had never been and would never be Lo’ak.

“I mean it clearly has crossed your mind if you went and saw Mo’at. You asked her about the transfer ritual, right?”

Eyes narrowing in his direction, you held your ground, body tensing as he revealed that he somehow had known. Known that you had gone to see the Tsahik and asked her about the consciousness transfer. He knew and suddenly a panic filled your body. What else could he have known? The reality is there's so much he doesn't know, so that plagued you with the question.

You shook your head, annoyance evident in your tone, “Lo’ak, how did you…”

“I heard you,” he admitted without a moment of hesitation, “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop but when I heard your voice with Mo’at I was curious. Then you mentioned the transfer ritual, and I couldn’t help myself but listen.”

You exhaled, somewhat frustrated, a sudden notion to get back on your Ikran and escape back into the forest and to the village. Your body had already used up its stored energy for the day and you knew the night would be hell when you returned to your human body. But as annoyed as you were that he had heard the request you had put in with Mo’at, you were interested in why he had brought this up. Why he had chosen to mention it to you — let alone the part about mates?

“What are you trying to say?”

He smirked then as if he had come up with the most brilliant plan but it only left your body feeling cold and slightly worried, “All I am trying to say is that you will become full Na’vi and that means you will be able to be chosen as someone’s mate.”

“Lo’ak,” you warned suddenly, able to follow his thinking after having known him for so many years, “Please.”

He ignored your quiet plea for him to be careful with his words as your eyes fluttered to a close. His hands taking a hold of your arms bought your gaze back to his. A small smile appeared on his lips, “What if we became mates? What if we chose each other?”

A pin dropped as well as your stomach, as if you were back on your Ikran diving down within the sky, waiting for the air to shift. This didn’t feel like it was going to level out like the air or register in your ears anytime soon. You stared forward at him, scared to look away, scared to break the hope that filled his eyes.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I mean the idea is kind of all over the place, but think of it this way. My parents can’t choose my mate for me and you don’t have to deal with all of the assholes in the village that obviously aren’t good enough for you,” he explained, his hand drifting up to cup your face, “Plus, you want to stay, don’t you? No matter what happens you want to stay here with us, right? Like this, in this form?”

“Lo’ak.”

He was quiet for a moment, thumb softly bruising along your temple, gaze staring deep into yours. “We could be happy, Y/N. Just you and me.”

You found yourself studying the ground, suddenly feeling sick and like a complete mess as your mind somehow wandered to the one person that seemed to never leave it. Neteyam, the future Olo’eyktan. The very man who would have his Tsahik chosen for him by Mo’at and Eywa herself. The very man who would have the perfect match — a woman who was strong, incredibly smart, and a gifted healer. A Tsahik that was selfless and would provide for her people. That wasn’t you. You knew it. Lo’ak knew it. He hadn’t brought up Neteyam again but the hesitancy in your eyes, the anxious thoughts that had slipped from your tongue, he knew was because of his older brother. His older brother who was already spoken for.

“Lo’ak, where is this coming from?” you asked, hand reaching up to hold his wrist in your hand, a confused look on your face.

He was hesitant to answer, seen in the way, his eyes shifted to the sky behind you. You made a displeased noise and his eyes found yours again, a smile forming because you knew him all too well after so many years.

“We have been friends for a long time now. For seven years I've always been used to it being us and Kiri and Spider. But somehow even with everyone, we found time just for us. I don’t know, I guess I just feel like I don’t see you as much as I used to.”

“Yeah, well a couple of things are different now. Huge things,” You chuckled, hand reaching up to take his hand from your face, interlacing it in yours.

His eyes followed your movement and stared down at your large blue hand that fit suddenly so perfectly in his compared to your human one that had always felt so awkward. He had never been great at communicating the hard stuff or admitting when something was bothering him, so you knew this was his way of saying that he missed you. With all of the sudden changes, he was struggling with accepting them.

“I’m also not locked away in a lab anymore, I am here with you. Things are going to be different, Lo’ak but it doesn’t mean our friendship is going to change.”

“I guess I just am not used to sharing you,” he admitted, a flush appearing on his face and it made you realize exactly who he was referring to. Neteyam. “What, outsider and outcast together, you don't want that?"

You sighed, his joke not pulling enough strings in your heart to change your initial apparent feelings. You knew what Lo'ak thought and you knew that he wasn’t going to willingly drop this without you taking the time to fully contemplate it even if his intentions weren’t romantic. You inhaled, the depth enough to reach your core, as his warmly coated stare seemed to engulf you whole.

His attempts were not poorly identified, casted by his loyalty to you but his execution was suffocating you. Where he could be a consolation prize, you be only an entrapment for him. He deserved more than you. “Lo'ak wouldn’t you want to be mates with someone that you love though? I mean do you even feel that way about me?”

He ignored your question and somehow that was an answer in itself.

“Look, I am not worried about spending the rest of my life with someone I may not feel for as my parents do with each other. Because I know this, us — we could make it work. Do you know why I am so sure about that? Because we have been friends for so long and it wouldn’t be so bad. We could take care of each other, be just as we are now, and build a future for ourselves. And if that's what settling for a life with you, looks like, then I’ll take it,” he paused, voice lowering as a smile fell across his lips, “I would rather settle for that than go along with whoever my parents choose for me. Plus I want you to stay, Y/N.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks and suddenly just as you thought everything had become so clear, so free from the downfalls of life, reality hit you again. It shifted and all of your problems returned led by an entirety of new ones. Because there's always a choice that has to be made; choose other people, choose to make them happy, or choose yourself even if there is no assurance that it'll all work out for you. Do you decide to take that risk?

Staring in the face of that question, it felt as if thousands of arrows were coming straight for you, its toxicity was inevitable and it would pierce into you, refusing to ever be pulled free from your skin. Yet, everything he said was so true, so undeniably true, but it all left you feeling uneasy for one reason only, one person only.

It was supposed to be a moment of relief, a moment where you were swelling with pride as you had completed Iknimaya. You were hours away from your ceremony with the people. The most important day of your entire life and one you had been thinking about for years. An accomplishment that would be encased in the back of your mind, as you were only the second dream walker to have ever done it.

It was supposed to be your moment but now because of this eclipse, this mountain, this ride — your moment would remain bittersweet, overclouded by Lo’ak’s proposal.

#avatar #avatarimagine #avatar way of water #neteyam x reader #writing #fanfiction #neteyam imagine #avatar imagine #avatar fanfiction #lo'ak imagine #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak fanfiction #neteyam fanfiction

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petertingle-yipyip · 11 months

Text

Question…? - Miguel O’hara

//the miguel brainrot brought this piece to life tbr. it’s kinda just for shits and giggles but there might be more. depends on how this one does//

Pairing: Miguel O’hara x Reader

Word Count: 3,868

Summary: The latest recruit to the Spider Society hits a bit too close to home for its head honcho. But with great power comes great persistence to get answers.

You landed on the roof of your building and pulled your mask up, wiping a hand down your slightly sweaty face. You looked at the bright display of the neon billboard across the alley and saw the breaking news story of your latest bust of the local Midnight Sons crime syndicate. You smirked slightly as you watched the reporter talk to the police who had to reluctantly admit that you, Arachne, had caught them. He tried to dance around it but the fact that your webs were covering the background made it obvious.

Just as you were about to head inside, you felt a tingle shoot down your spine. An unfamiliar yet not unwelcome sensation crawled across your skin so you quickly replaced your mask and spun around, web shooters ready. Instead of being greeted by a foe, you were greeted with a large and seemingly unstable orange circle that vaguely resembled a doorway.

Before you could say anything, you had to drop to your stomach as a motorbike came barreling through. You rolled to your back and flicked a quick burst from either wrist to latch a web to both tires. You kicked yourself back and pulled the bike with you, forcing its rider to disengage and land on the opposite side of the roof.

“Not bad.” She said, though her back was still to you as you stood slowly. “I knew you were quick, but I didn’t think you’d be that quick.”

“Right… And you are?” You asked carefully. You didn’t feel she was a threat, but something about the way she triggered that sixth sense made you tense. “I mean, you came at me full speed on a motorcycle so you owe me that.”

“Jessica Drew.” She turned to face you and the first thing you noticed was her belly. “And I’m just like you.”

“I’m not pregnant!” You decided quickly, a hand covering your stomach.

She laughed and shook her head. After a second, you hesitantly laughed with her. “I meant the Spider Woman thing.”

“Ah…” You nodded before slowly lifting your mask again. “That’s what I felt?”

“Mhmm..”

“I thought I was the only one.”

“Yes and no.” She moved towards her bike, which you hurried over to beside her. “If you’re interested, there’s someone I think you should meet.”

You followed her through the orange and ended up in a massive complex. There were dozens upon dozens of variations of… you.

A cat version. A monkey version. A dinosaur. A plushie. A cyborg. An avatar. A video game. Other girls, other guys. Any type of Spider variation you could imagine, it was there.

As you were taking it all in, you were hit with the sharpest pain you’d ever had in your life. It took over your entire body, felt as if you were being yanked apart and haphazardly put back together. Your insides felt rearranged and your head spun violently while everything seemed to be ignited. But the pain only lasted for a second.

Jessica told you it was your body glitching from being outside your own universe, which she also explained was granted the official title of Earth-3505. She slipped a blue band around your wrist and you felt every ounce of tension in your body disappear. She explained the device on her wrist, how it kept her from glitching while allowing for travel to any dimension.

You had to admit. All the tech and different universes blew every single theory and experiment you had ever known out of the water.

You were talking with Jessica through the long walk down a rather dark and drafty hall that led to a wide open work area. She called to the man on the platform, which began to lower at an agonizingly slow pace. Awkwardly, you rocked on your heels and fiddled with your web shooters, checking the cartridges and scratching away the dried remnants from your earlier endeavors. You tugged the neck of your suit and dusted imaginary dirt off before running fingers through your hair and giving it a small shake in an effort to look a bit more presentable.

When you heard the gears click into place you looked back and found yourself in utter shock, despite him not even facing you yet.

And as someone who would fight the Bloodstones, a werewolf, and the literal avatar of a god of the moon, it took a lot to render you speechless.

The man on the platform was massive. The width of his chest and shoulders alone was at least the size of a twin mattress. His height towered over yours and you could tell even from the distance he was at. His upper body narrowed ridiculously into his waist, though his legs were proportionately built as well. And covering that Hercules-esque physique was a fitted red and blue suit, just like everyone else you had seen in that building.

So why hadn’t he given you the same tingle Jessica did?

You were snapped out of your thoughts when an elbow came roughly into your ribs.

“What?” You asked quickly, an innocent obliviousness in your voice.

“Introduce yourself.” Jessica hissed.

“Right.” You nodded and took a hesitant step forward. “I’m Y/N, from Earth 35-something.”

“3505.” She whispered.

“Yeah, sorry. Anyways, I’m like you and her and everyone else here… Back home I’m called Arachne, like the.. The myth. I’m sorry, are you not gonna face me?”

“¿Mande?” He said sharply and the sound of his voice drove your pulse to jump.

“If you’re gonna have your back to me the whole time, why am I even here?” You pushed, though your resolve was slowly shattering as you watched him turn around.

The room may have been dimly lit but you could see what looked like a red tint to his eyes.

“Why are you here?” He asked tightly as he hopped off the platform and stalked closer to you. You swallowed hard and flattened your two middle fingers against your palm to feel the trigger for your webs. “Why are-“

His sentence cut off abruptly when he got a few feet away from you.

“Miguel?” Jessica asked from beside you. You had forgotten she was there but you felt a bit more relaxed to know you weren’t alone in that room. “What is it?”

“What did you say your name was?” He asked. His words were intended to be more gentle, more intimate maybe, but they still had enough of an edge to keep your fingers where they were.

“Y/N… And you’re..?”

His face fell at your uncertainty, though you doubted Jessica noticed. He recovered rather quickly, as if your words reminded him of something painful. Something he already knew.

“Miguel O’hara.” He stood a bit taller, if that was even possible.

“It’s nice to meet you… You built all of this?” You asked lamely in hopes to fill the silence that you felt would suffocate you if you ignored.

“Yeah.. It’s a way to preserve the multiverse. Everyone here was hand picked to serve a bigger cause, to protect each other’s universe and canons.”

“I assume that’ll get explained if I get in?” You turned to Jessica who nodded with a small, amused smile.

“¿Perdóname, si entras?” His head cocked as the corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk that you felt was sarcastic. “No.”

“What?” You and Jessica asked at the same time.

“No.” He enunciated, hands at his waist and leaning forward.

“Why not?” You asked angrily, stepping forward with no regard to the size difference. “I can take anyone here!”

“Miguel, she’s really good.” Jessica tried earnestly. “I think you should give her a shot.”

“No.”

“C’mon.” She pressed.

“No.”

“What are you afraid of?” You challenged suddenly and the glare he shot your way made you hesitate.

“Afraid?” He laughed. “Afraid.. I’m not afraid.”

“Then what?”

“She looks just like her.” Miguel said, more to Jessica than you.

“Who?” She asked softly.

Miguel shot her a different look than the one he gave you. This one has more longing, more pain. You looked like someone he used to know. Likely someone he lost.

“Lyla.” Jessica said softly, waiting a moment for a hologram woman in a fur coat to appear at her shoulder. “Show Y/N around a little more, please.”

“Who- Oh.” The hologram spoke before disappearing and reappearing in front of you. She leaned in and lifted her heart shaped glasses before blinking away and reappearing up at Miguel’s side. A quick back and forth of hushed comments brought her back to you as she ushered you out of the room.

Lyla spoke quickly to you, bouncing around within your field of vision. She pointed out different Spider People, different villains. She showed you the machine that sent people home and the training center. While you were wandering the vast exercise area, you met two boys playfully roughhousing who seemed to create the golden retriever with black cat meets boys will be boys dynamic.

“Ooh! Who’s the new girl?” One of them ran up to you with a palpable excitement.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You smiled and the other one leaned in close.

“Look at that.” He said with a small smirk, seemingly changing color with each sentence. “Got little fangs and all. That’s mad.”

“Whaaaat? Let me see!” The first one pushed the taller one aside and replaced him, though he leaned in significantly closer.

“I’m guessing these aren’t normal for Spiderman.” You laughed and gently pushed him back. “What’re your names?”

“Hobie, Hobie Brown.” He offered you a short salute.

“Pavitr Prabhakar.” He gave an extravagant bow. “How long have you been a spider person?”

You blew out a sigh and tried to calculate the numbers. “A few years? It happened my senior year of high school, and then the two years there... And then.. All I know is its been a while. You guys?”

“Couple months.” Pavitr answered with a small hop. “It’s been so easy.”

“Three years.” Hobie answered simply. “And yeah, it’s not bad. Your universe a mess, then?”

“I think mine is a weird one based on what you guys have said.” You answered awkwardly. “Werewolves, swamp things, Egyptian gods, monster hunters.”

“Sounds like a fantasy book.” Hobie scoffed.

“That’s the Midnight Sons for you.” You shrugged. “There’s normal stuff too, like other vigilantes. Daredevil and Black Cat and the Widow.”

“Were they bitten by a spider too?” Pavitr added with wide eyes.

“Who, Widow? Not that I know of.”

“How’d you get the little-“ Hobie made a vague fang gesture. “You a vampire, too?”

“Well, no.” You rubbed a hand over your mouth, suddenly embarrassed of your teeth.

“You’ve got everything else. Figured you had the little blood suckers and allat.”

“There’s rumors of one guy but I haven’t met him.. Actually, the spider that bit me was a mix between the same thing that created my world’s Goblin and just the radioactive spider. It was supposed to be able to cure something but…” You shrugged.

“Do they do anything?” Pavitr asked, still looking at your mouth intently. He slowly reached a finger forward so you leaned away and gently pushed his hand to the side.

“Uh..” Your brows furrowed. “Idunno.” You mumbled as you shrugged.

“You’ve never tried to bite anyone?” He laughed and Hobie facepalmed gently. “I totally would’ve.”

“I’ll try it when I get home.” You laughed slightly. You glanced around and noticed the AI woman - Lyla - was nowhere to be seen. “Can I ask you guys something?”

“Go for it.” Hobie nodded and Pavitr’s head bounced up and down like a bobble head.

“The little AI, Lyla… Does she see everything?” You asked quietly.

“You trynna do somtin’ you shouldn’t, aye?” Hobie quirked a brow.

“I wanna try to talk to Miguel but I get the feeling that she’ll keep me away.”

“Why?” Pavitr whispered loudly,

“Cause he sent me away, said I looked too much like someone.”

“Oy, Pav.” Hobie nudged the smaller boy before leaning down and plotting quietly. They went back and forth for a few moments before looking back at you. “Make it quick, yeah?”

“I owe you.” You grinned.

Pavitr and Hobie shared a small fist bump before Pavitr reached his fist towards you. You chuckled slightly and returned the gesture before the two ran off. It was only a few moments before sprinklers went off in the room. Lyla popped in and out of view, speaking rapidly and tapping small screens in front of her. She appeared in front of you, disheveled glasses and jacket hanging from her shoulders.

“Do. Not. Move.” She said firmly and you held hands up in surrender. She pointed two fingers at her eyes before pointing to you, gesturing up and down your body before disappearing again.

You leaned around slightly to ensure her digital frame was nowhere to be seen before you booked it out of the room. Your wet feet slipped on the sleek tiles so you opted to swing across the complex and back to Miguel’s workspace.

You wiped a damp hand across your face as you entered the hall again before you pulled yourself to the ceiling and crawled down the long corridor. Jessica left in a huff, muttering that he was unreasonable and that she wasn’t done. You watched her freeze and turn around, squinting her eyes in suspicion. You stayed still above her in hopes that she wouldn’t find you but with the water subtly dripping from your suit and hair, you thought you were caught. With a small smirk, she turned back and left.

You blew out a small sigh and continued down your path until you reentered Miguel’s wide open room. His back was towards the entrance as he vigorously typed and swiped various projections away. He was muttering to himself, broken Spanglish as he worked in that increasingly frazzled state. His head cocked over his shoulder as you clung to the space above the door.

“¿Qué estás haciendo?” He asked tightly, unable to face you fully. “And why are you wet?”

“I just…” You spoke, realizing you had no idea how to start. “May like some explanations.”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you.” He spoke simply, clearly trying to shut down the conversation.

“Okay, but… What if I just ask some general questions that have simple answers? Is that okay? I mean, can I ask you a question? Well a couple, but you know what I mean.”

“Can you please stop, just for a second?“ He sighed and pressed his palms against the table. You pursed your lips slightly and drummed your fingers against the wall while you waited for him to say something. “You don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, do you?”

“I don’t usually have to beg like this.” You confessed. You shifted your feet and leaned your shoulders against the wall behind you, allowing your hands to aim webs at the edge of his platform. You pulled yourself over and stood in front of him. “Miguel, please…”

“Ay, dios mío. You sound just like her, too.” He spoke to himself, though the desperation in his voice was hard to miss.

“Listen, if you don’t want me here because whoever I remind you of, that’s not good enough of a reason.” You insisted. Your words finally got him to turn and face you, which really drove home just how big he was. You gave a nervous chuckle and crossed your arms in an attempt of defiance. “I can prove myself against anyone here. I know I can do this!”

“It’s not about whether you’re-“ He began before he leaned down closer. You pulled back and teetered the edge of the platform. “What was that?”

“You got a little close.” You defended with a shrug.

“Not that, cariño.” He shook his head. “Open your mouth.”

“Okay!” You said loudly, trying to push him by his chest. “That’s not how you- Ugh! Whatthehellare-“

Your words became an incomprehensible jumble of syllables when his hand came to your face, fingers pressing gently on your cheeks to keep your lips apart. His pointer finger was free to manipulate your upper lip, exposing one side of your mouth. With a satisfied smirk, he let you go.

“Thought so..” He offered a lazy smirk. “Lemme see your hands.”

“Is this like.. part of the initiation process or something?” You tried to joke as you held up one hand. He took it by your wrist and gave your palm a gentle prod, just missing the trigger for your web shooter. “What are you looking for?”

“You always talk this much?” He mumbled with a small eye roll as he let go of your hand.

“It’s just a question.” You muttered and poured slightly.

He sat back on the edge of a table behind him, allowing for a more even eye line. But even at the new lowered height, he was definitely taller than you.

“How can anyone focus around you?” He said with a shake of his head.

“I can put the mask on, if it helps.” You offered awkwardly, reaching for the side pouch you usually tucked it away in.

Miguel looked back at you and laughed. A seemingly genuine sound that, up until that moment, you weren’t entirely sure was possible.

You took the opportunity to move away from the edge of the platform and stand more in front of him. Your hands rested lazily behind you and you simply looked at him for a minute.

The obvious physical stature was still as intimidating as ever but there was something in his expression. Something haunted, something guilty. However, when his eyes met yours, there was a softness there. A certain longing.

How does anyone focus around you? You thought as you took in his features for a little longer.

“You always stare like that when you’re not talking?” His brows raised with a slight smile as his arms crossed over his chest.

“Not usually.” You answered with a shrug of one shoulder in an attempt to ignore the blush creeping across your cheeks. “I take it you didn’t find what you were looking for with my hand, but you didn’t send me away again so maybe that was a good thing… Maybe I can…”

“Go ahead and ask your questions.” He nodded, adding a tired sigh at the end as if to say he was giving in. You thought he was curious as to what you wanted to know.

“What’s the big deal about my teeth?”

“Your teeth..” He chuckled slightly. “Most of the spiders around here don’t have fangs, cariño.”

“Right but why do you care?”

“Cause I have them too.”

“What do yours do?”

“Paralysis. Yours?”

“Dunno.” You confessed. “I’ve never bit anyone. Can I see?”

“No.”

“C’mon!”

“No.”

“Fine.”

You flicked a web at his chest and yanked him to lean forward, earning a small Spanish exclamation from him. You kept hold of the web with one hand and put the other on his shoulder as you leaned in slightly. His eyes darted between yours in slight shock before he broke into a small smile, enough for you to see a moderately more pronounced version of the same teeth in your mouth.

“Woah.” You said quietly as your eyes drifted to where your webs met his suit. “Wait..”

“What is it?” He asked lowly and the tone sent a shiver down your spine.

“Your suit. It’s all tech?”

“Mhmm.”

“That’s so cool.” You breathed with a smile, which faded as you squinted and noticed a falter in the colors. “It’s like a projection, which means if I…” You gave another slight tug on your web and watched the distortion of the colors where your palm was pressed against him. You laughed slightly before looking back at Miguel.

The web suddenly snapped and you stumbled backwards. You looked down and saw the excess still wrapped around your wrist. The tensile strength was much stronger than that so it shouldn’t have betrayed you so suddenly. It had never failed before. Turning your head back to Miguel, you saw the projections from the pads of his fingers.

“You were looking for claws?” Your brows raised as your head jerked towards his hand. “You could’ve asked.”

He simply shrugged.

“Let me ask you something…” He said calmly as he leaned back to his originally sitting position. “Why do you wanna be here so bad?”

“Good girl.” You gestured to yourself. “Sad boy.” You gestured to him and he shook his head with a scoff. You offered a small smile before wandering in a small circle, your back now to Miguel. “We all have this one thing going on.. And it’s always one thing after another, situations and circumstances and miscommunications. Losing people and losing fights, it’s all part of the job but… Honestly, I don’t know why. Maybe I just like the idea of not being alone, of not being the only one.”

You turned back to face him and saw he hadn’t looked away.

“It’d be nice to not be the only one with fangs, either.” You smiled, flashing your pointed teeth.

“You never told me why you’re wet.” He commented after a brief moment of silence.

“Oh.” You laughed nervously. “Funny story.”

You heard the muttered complaints come down the hall at the same time the tingle of another spider person hit your skin. Your eyes went wide when Lyla popped up in front of you, glaring at you with tightly crossed arms. You offered an innocent smile with hands up in surrender.

“Y/N!” Pavitr yelled with a wide grin as he entered the room, Hobie sulking behind him. The boy turned and began patting his friend’s shoulder excitedly. “It worked!”

“What worked?” Miguel turned to you.

“Those two-“ Lyla said angrily as she appeared in front of Miguel and pointed at the two spidermen. “-set of a fire alarm in the training center.”

“And that was your idea?” He looked to you again.

“Nah, mate.” Hobie answered casually. “Was all me.”

“You?” He shouted and then wiped a hand down his face. “I don’t- I can’t deal with you right now. Both of you, go help mop up and dry the training center. Just- Get out of my sight.”

Hobie offered you a salute before sauntering out, Pavitr quick on his heels. You smiled to yourself before you hopped off the platform, shooting a quick web to help control your descent.

“Where are you going?” Miguel called after you, causing your stride to pause. You spun to face him with a playful smile.

“To help clean up.. They did it so I could talk to you, after all.” You shrugged.

“Come back here when you’re done.” He tossed a device your way, the same device the other spiders had around their wrists.

“Gonna miss me already?” You teased as you fit it to your wrist, replacing the temporary band you were given.

“Always, cariño.”

You realized you hadn’t found out anything in regards to who you looked like from Miguel’s past, but with the confirmation that you’d come back, you figured you’d find out in time.

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