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harmonysanreads · 1 month

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Hello !!! I hope you’re doing fine and enjoyed last patch quest! I really really love your writing, and especially like the way you write Ratio,,,,, that yandere Drabble you posted a while ago with Ratio and Aventurine sharing reader has been haunting me in the best ways <33

Since your request are open, could I ask for a one-shot of yandere Ratio and Aventurine? If it’s fine I’ll ask for reader to be shy/introverted but otherwise I’ll leave it up to your inspiration! Maybe about life at home, or visit in Penacony? Maybe they’re tormenting Reader through strip-poker? Maybe Ratio was inspired by the shrinking device and now they’re having fun with their pocket-sized darling? Anything you fancy I’m not difficult, I only ask you have fun!! <3

(I assumed your no-sequel rule only applied to one-shot, I deeply apologise if I was wrong fjekjdksjd)

Inure

yandere!aventurine x reader x yandere!dr ratio

cw(s) : yandere, forced proximity, slight dehumanization (but everything is sauteed in humor so bon appetit ✨)

wc : 1k

hi nonnie!! thank you so much for your sweet words<3 tbh every idea you presented was very enticing and i'll definitely keep them in consideration for later. for now though, i really wanted to write something soft for these two, i hope you don't mind :>

Inconveniences come in many forms.

Some more candid than most, while others lurk in the shadows of carelessness like hyenas ; ready to pounce on the unsuspecting prey at the opportune time. Trouble and tribulation eclipse the course of human life, masquerading as two sides of the same coin. What they are, in truth, a pair of mischievous twins who are always watching, evaluating and trapping their victims in elation-filled jumpscares. It is also true that woes differ based on the individual, some even see fit to opine that the source of misery is the individual themselves.

Your vexations however, are dictated by two idiosyncratic persons with interests as farther apart as two solar systems. Which isn't a lot if one considers the magnificence of the universe, but distanced enough to be the tillable land of your miseries. Said inconveniences usually arrive dressed as revoked privileges, confiscation of entertainment items and... movie nights.

A night where you're supposed to be enjoying a film as a group shouldn't have been such an adversity if the aforementioned individuals respected the bare minimum of being normal. On usual occasions, who you end up accompanying is maintained through a strict schedule as opposed to the much friskier notion of rolling-dices that was favored by a certain blonde (in which he always emerged victorious and was thus declared irrationally imbalanced by Veritas) — but, an unforseen lapse of management and chaos was bred.

In matters that concern you, it seemed as though even the most seamless co-operations failed to reach a simple consensus. So when the erudite Dr Ratio expressed eagerness to spend a ‘relaxing afternoon’ with your person, it clashed quite clamorously with Aventurine's desire to have you participate in one of his many adrenaline-high games. And because of the decrease in release of dopamine that came from being a frequent observer of their arguments, you ended up suggesting this dreadful activity ; Ratio's silent perusal by your left and Aventurine's equally quiet phone browsing by your right are all that remains of the earlier fiasco.

You consider it a shame, because unbeknownst to them, you actually were plotting ways to watch this particular film. But, when at approximately fifteen minutes into the story you realized you were the only one among you three that was paying it any attention at all — you felt, quite blatantly, deflated. Surprisingly though, that was not the main source of your current misery at all, no, no ; what was causing you distress was the deplorable portion of space that they alloted to you from the couch.

At least Ratio has the habit of crossing his legs subconsciously, making your life just a miniscule easier. Unlike Aventurine whose default setting is to be attached to any patch of your skin anytime you're within his radius and when he brings that to the cauldron of being compressed between him and Ratio — it perfectly justifies why you're dancing between the provocative lines of mild annoyance and a meltdown. You'd believe they forgot about your existence altogether if not for Ratio's definitely-not-intentional shifting and the without context headpats from Aventurine.

Their treatment, although (probably) not deliberate, suggest you to be the equivalent of the pampered housecat and if one was to generously point out the expression on your face at present, that allegation would be right.

You stifle a sigh that transitions into a yawn with your only friend in this dreadful world, your plush pillow. The dialogues exchanged by the actors in the movie gradually become unintelligible as your vision morphs into a kaleidoscope of black dots and patterns. You draw your knees closer until they become parallel to your chin, musing a scenario where you lean so into the couch that it swallows your form and hurls you into a wonderland free of covetous hands or hearts. Where you could roam without eyes attached to every move you make and most importantly, where the notion of inconveniences would cease to exist.

You've seen it happen in shows a younger you indulged in and a passing thought makes you smile sardonically ; the world is so bizarre that you've effortlessly found yourself in a situation as complex as your current one but, not bizarre enough to make fantasies such as these a reality. The noises from the screen, Ratio's nonchalant page turning and the fragrance of Aventurine's cologne make your lucidity sway, until darkness cradles you close.

That night, you found yourself having a rather tender dream. In your dream, the blonde promptly busied himself in positioning you more comfortably on his lap upon feeling your slumbering head hit his shoulder. You felt succinctly amused upon the ‘place the pillow under their head, moron!’ that left a certain virtuoso's lips. Said virtuoso, shifted the rest of your body to be rested on his lap with a gentleness that baffled even Aventurine. Some say that dreams are manifestations of the desires that stay stagnant within the crevices of our minds. If that theory holds even a fraction of credence, then the percipience of what your subconscious desires, leaves you feeling as solemn as sated.

By the hour you gain awareness of the waking world again, there is but silence surrounding the living room. Your first blink is followed by a series of more and your sense of feeling works faster before your sense of sight, it sticks quite insistently just above your knees and atop your head. You roll a bit and realize they are in fact the hands of Ratio and Aventurine respectively, holding you away from kissing the floor and cracking your nose. As your vision gains more clarity, you notice the purple-head, supported by the palm of his left hand and the arm of the couch. You rise up and notice Aventurine mirroring Ratio's position, you conclude them both to be asleep judging by their collective inertia despite your movements.

Your eyes shift downwards towards the pillow on which you rested moments before and seeing it positioned exactly atop Aventurine's lap, confirm your suspicions that the scene you witnessed in your sleep had, in fact, happened in reality. Perhaps the universe heard your hopeless plea and bargained it with this speck of generosity.

They really didn't move an inch — but the bubbling warmth was soon pushed down by — as if I was a cat they didn't want to disturb!

being treated like a cat by two of the most cat-like characters in hsr lol

#requests: batch two #answered #yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere hsr x reader #yandere aventurine #yandere aventurine x reader #yandere dr ratio #yandere dr ratio x reader #yandere veritas ratio #yandere veritas ratio x reader #aventurine x reader #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader

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blueweaver1 · 5 months

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An Eclipse or also known as Oathbound

Part 2

While fallen angels and purified demon exist, an oathbound is a completely different thing. It is an exceptional rare occurrence when an angel and demon fully trust one another and bind themselves together. This gives both beings the ability to use divine and demonic powers.

The reason trust is so important is because the oaths have to be done at separate times. And most angels, or demon, would never allow themselves to be submissive to the other party. Even if it's only for a small amount of time.

Impluse and Skizz are one of the only recorded cases of an Eclipse forming.

This was just a funny little AU idea that I had. While I personally like normal dude Impulse the most I saw the helmet Impulse got in Vault Hunters and was inspired. 🤩

I also think for this AU it would be funny if the other hermits had never really met angels or demon, because they're rare, and think all of them are like Impulse and Skizz.

Imp and Skizz also have three different forms: Normal Guy -> Normal Angel/Demon -> Eclipse Form

I use Oathbound and Eclipse interchangeably because I think different people would have different names for it. And since it's never seen information about it isn't consolidated.

#impulsesv #skizzleman #imp and skizz #impulse fanart #skizz fanart #hermitcraft #hermitcraft fanart #skizzleman fanart #hermitcraft au #oathbound au

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amberluvsbugs · 1 year

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'Sleuth Jesters' Eclipse

In the shock of it all, the gunfire had suddenly ceased and all that was left was plumes of smoke. Heavy, harsh, and yet strict waves of thick blur and ash on your field of vision. Muffling the quiet surroundings.

All except for distinct and sharp footsteps.

Something- no, someone approaches you in the haze. Before long a dreaded shadowy figure pierces through the mist with dusty ease.

"My my, what do we have here?"

Your breath hitches and your eyes widen at the voice. Everything seems to be in slow motion as you stare in fear and in dread.

You knew exactly who that deep voice belongs to.

The smoke seeped through his chaises and his sleazy formal wear as if breathing in and forming his familiar figure and colors through the mist. It dragging behind on his back, his rays, and fingertips toward you. His intricate digits burned with embers and blended the smoke as it follows him, Almost as if he was in control of the hell unleashed. The hold of his cigar evident in his hand even though it can never be smoked through that stagnant wicked grin.

"Hello, Sweetheart." ____________________________________________ Took inspiration with @just-a-drawing-bean's design of Eclipse. Sleuth Jesters belongs to @naffeclipse

Process is down below

#sleuth jesters #Eclipse fnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf dca #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #clouds #smoke

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radiance1 · 6 months

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Inspired by this post.

So, we have Danny, who outlived his friends and family (none of them became ghosts.) is the prince of the Infinite Realms.

As soon as he didn't have any ties to the living world anymore, at the young age of 114 was Danny scooped up and taken to the ghost zone for royal tutelage.

Things like balance training, how to carry himself prim and proper, how to invoke power with his voice (not literally, mostly how to sound commanding at stuff), what he should wear, knowledge about the ghost zone etc, etc.

Although, History beyond a certain point had to be taught exclusively by Clockwork, since the only other person who could teach him about the Infinite Realms' full History would be Pariah Dark, who was the first ghost ever to have been conceived by the Realms, and no one really wanted to wake up him.

Of course, that would mean there would be a void where Clockwork can't teach, but that knowledge is.... not necessary for the young prince to learn.

[It was really just about Pariah acquiring the ring and crown, the rest is uh, cough the lovey-dovey arc of Pariah Dark and Clockwork that will stay lost to time if Clockwork has anything to say about. Look, they were babies then compared to now, no one needs to know what happened back then alright?]

So, after all this I imagine him wearing something like this, staff and all.

However, Danny has an arch-nemesis.

Dark Danny.

Who somehow managed to escape from his imprisonment and causes havoc and chaos wherever he goes. His thing to do was to escape to the living world to make it befall the same fate he caused to his own.

He, however, probably did not expect for Danny to be more experienced, and his skills more honed than 100 years ago. Not that Dark Danny knew such time had passed, as he went through the trouble of trying to locate Danny's parents, sister, and best friends to make try and set him on the path to become him.

He failed, obviously, as they were already long gone.

His next thing to do? Locate Vlad and consume his ghost half. However, Danny made it just in time before he could do so.

However, Dark Danny's sheer, raw power, still eclipsed his own. However, while his raw power may be superior, he had something that would let him reliably go head-to-head in a fight with his alternate self and not win due to being underestimated and the sudden appearance of the ghost wail.

A staff, one naturally formed when he was crowned as Prince. An artifact that granted him a boost in power, and furthered his strengths regarding magic, giving him a roughly equal playing field when he confronts Dan.

It by itself may have only been equal to that of the Ring of Rage or Crown of Fire individually, but the fact it could compare to either one when not paired together spoke well of its power.

Dark Danny was, obviously, not expecting him to be as well-equipped and powerful as he was now. So, he underestimated him yet again, and almost led to his defeat and subsequent containment. However, Danny didn't expect for him to escape as he did, and run into another dimension.

Danny, both as himself and Prince of the Ghost Zone, has the responsibility to go after his evil self. So, he entered the portal, with some equipment made by Vlad as both a thanks and silent 'Find him as quickly as possible', which was a device meant to track Dark Danny's energy whenever he uses a good amount of it.

He... didn't expect, to land in a dimension of Superheroes and Villains.

However, he could let such things distract him from the task at hand, Dark Danny was surprisingly laying low for some reason. Probably to recuperate the damage Danny managed to do to him, so that left him a while to get familiar enough with this dimension.

He got a few odd looks here and there, mostly due to how he was dressed. He was worried about it for a while, before overhearing others calling him a cosplayer and him, suddenly remembering that those do indeed exist, decides to use that as a cover for how he dresses.

A month later, still with no sign of his alternate self, and making Danny worry about if he wasn't in this dimension at all. The device finally picked up Dark Danny's signature, and he hurried to said location, when he arrived, the place was not in the best of shape.

Upturned cars, broken buildings, rubble on the street, fire here and there. Not the best welcome party.

There were multiple other villains than just his future self there, but he didn't put them in mind. He was here for one, and one alone.

A few members of what he believes to be Young Justice took to fighting his alternate self, while other members of their team and the Justice League fight the other villains. He saw what could only be the start of a ghost wail, and hurried over.

In front of them, he slammed the butt of his staff on the ground and conjured a shield, which took the entirety of the attack with a few cracks.

"Still as strong as ever, I see." Danny said, lowering the shield as his twin rings run up and down his body respectively, hair turning a white glow and eyes as green as toxic waste. He raised his staff, pointing it at his future self, who looked none too pleased to see him at all. "Now then, shall we continue our fight you so rudely left unfinished?"

Of course, Danny no longer had the card of underestimation, but he could do well without it. Unfortunately, after quite the battle, Dark Danny managed to escape once again, due to some kind of teleport spell of another magic user.

Danny didn't escape unscathed from the fight, but nothing that couldn't be healed in time.

Of course, then he had to interact with both the Justice League, and Young Justice after his sudden introduction.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #ghost prince danny #Right #Dark Danny is neither Ghost King nor Prince #Just thought I would include that #Just another difference between the two teehee.

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naffeclipse · 2 months

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I'm sorry if this question has been asked in some form or another but... How would Eclipse, should he have ever moved away from the Arctic in search of a new home, react if he encountered a pair of orphaned Orca Siren Calves (Sun and Moon) being raised by a reclusive writer human Y/N? Like either their sibling got the Siren Transformation and the whole pod is just now... gone due to some unfortunate events... Or the Y/N just found the two orphans in the shallows near their very secluded home and the parents never came back?

Point is human Y/N is trying their best, but that means things aren't going all that great. Both kids can read and are cared for. Moon is a master of the door dash app when using the tablet kept on land near the water for them. But there's love... Lots of love.

How would he react to this?

Oh, I love this

You wanted to be left alone, unfortunately, the two... babies, didn't get the memo. They're so small. You have no idea what to do with the mythical creature children. Sirens. Sure, you've heard of them. So why aren't they taking care of their young? Why are they wailing at the edge of the icy land you've made your home on? It doesn't take long for you to take pity on the small things and feed them some chewed fish (but only this once).

Somehow, you end up with a small ice shelter where you've carved two breathing holes under the ice to let the seawater and the babies swim for a day, keeping a careful watch on them while jotting down a few ideas you've had for your writing (perhaps inspired by sirens). Then, at the night's end, you lovingly pick up both toddler-sized sirens, tucking one into each arm to carry them to your home where your bathtub has become a makeshift crib of seawater and half-chewed rubber duckies.

You believe they're twins despite their different appearances, one touched with cream-colored orca markings and soft yellow frills framing his face. The other brother is black and white and has a slippery dark blue tendril behind his head, trailing into a luminous bulb. They have mismatched eyes but share one blue iris.

So much for only feeding them once. The tiny fish got you wrapped around their little claws.

They growl and chuff and softly whine whenever you're not within sight, and each of them demands time alone to snuggle against your chest before you set down your bedding on the bathroom floor and urge them to sleep through the night. You're right here if they need you. Somehow, one or both end up on you, dripping wet, and you can only groan and softly hold the babies through the night despite their constant wiggles and slick, sheeny bodies.

This goes on for a few years before you start to worry that your bathtub is too cramped for the children. Sun and Moon (oh gosh, you gave them names; now you're really attached) are so smart and excel at reading and writing, making use of markers and whiteboards, and remembering to let their hands dry before grabbing the paper from the floor of the ice shelter to draw doodles of the icy waves.

There were learning curves, such as when you had to scold Moon for biting you so hard his sharp teeth drew blood, but he cried, so you stopped being angry and showed him how to help you bandage your hand. See? All better. But no biting. Another time was Sun growing impatient with your slow pace as you gathered your writing materials before joining them in the ice shelter, and he grabbed your leg and halfway pulled you into the frigid water, shocking your system with the sheer cold before you scrambled out and had to retreat to your home to undress and get warm. Sun hid away from you, unwilling to come out despite your coaxing once night fell. You had to lay down a new rule: they cannot pull you into the water. You are not built like them. He clung to you and apologized, and you forgave him with a kiss on the forehead.

You wanted to be left alone with your children. (Yours. Your babies.) Unfortunately, they're not the only sirens around. You sense another presence just at dusk when you're preparing to take Sun out of the breathing hole (you can only carry one at a time now, and even then, it takes all your strength to lift with your legs—when did they get so big?) and pause with your hands under Sun's arms, his hands still opening and closing for you. Through the slight opening in the flap of the ice shelter, out into the shallows of the icy sea, you see two pairs of eyes, yellow and red, and piercing.

A siren.

You react with adrenaline and fear, fueled by the intention to protect your children no matter the cost, and pull Sun and Moon out of the breathing holes in a second. Placing them in the far corner, you shield them with your body. The strange siren pokes his head through the breathing hole not a moment later. Eyes wide, breathing harshly, you stare each other down, siren against human. His gaze slips past you, and he grins upon finding Sun's and Moon's big eyes peeking around you as they cling to your shoulders, confused and frightened. Their flukes flip anxiously.

The siren grinned at you, and for the better half of the night, you conversed with the siren about how you came upon your children. His intentions remain sinister and masked until he at last tells you how perfect he finds you and the boys. You stare, standoffish, but he assures you, he will be the father that they need, and the mate you deserve. You don't believe him. You don't trust him with your babies, but when he grabs your leg and rips you away from your children, much to their protests and small cries, you're caught under him and his caressing claws before you realize that his hunger is more.

It starts to make sense. Of course, Eclipse can teach them far more than you can about how to navigate their marine existant and how to properly hunt and not only take food from your hands. He teaches them how to sing, how to watch prey, how to use their strength and teeth to conquer. And you... you watch, realizing that you miss those bathtub days, but your boys are happy. They love Eclipse and Eclipse, well, when he's not tending to the children, he's spending time with you, laying his crossed arms on your lap to gaze up at you, insisting you accept a dead seal from him.

Maybe he has a bit of charm. And maybe you begrudgingly let you sing you to sleep when you're left fretting about Sun and Moon swimming late into the night on their own, but they're growing big. They don't fit in your arms anymore. You start to feel a little forgotten before you find all three sirens acting very suspiciously, your boys whispering before telling you that Dad—Eclipse wants to give you something. He softly presses a beautiful black pearl into your palm. You've never been much for anything that isn't practical, but it's beautiful, so you take it. Eclipse is pleased and so are the Sun and Moon. He steals a kiss from you. You don't mind.

You wanted to be left alone, but you find yourself in the siren's arms as you both watch a burning orange sunset and your sons playfully fighting in the small waves.

#man that found family really do be hitting hard ya know?#augh #apex polarity #idk what to call this i'm too emotional about it #orca!eclipse #orca!sun #orca!moon #recluse!reader #naff writing

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oobbbear · 3 months

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An original species inspired my the moon phases :]! Long post warning ⚠️

These are new moons, they are the smallest and the weakest sub species of the moon kinds

These little creatures can be found everywhere, some living amongst the humans, some in the forest, some even under water

Their height range from 5cm to 30cm

New moons who lives in the human world disguises themselves as everyday objects so they can blend in and not be caught, they steal little trinkets and foods when human’s not looking

These are the crescent moons, they act mostly the same as new moons the only difference is they’re taller and stronger

New moons would sometimes disguise themselves as other moon species so they don’t get attacked by them. Moons are not the kindest to the other sub species. New Moons usually go out in a group of 3 or more, that way they can look out for each other in the big dangerous world.

New moons dress up in heavy layers not only to blend in with their surroundings, it also because their natural body is very soft and fragile, they need the layer of protection to not die easily in the wild

Their disguise of choice is like their second skin it aids and protects them, even tho it is changeable and won’t hurt them when damaged, the little guys value them greatly

This is a Sun, they are the natural enemies of the Moons, while Moons are like little humans, Sun are more like big shiny long dogs, they’re not as smart as the moons but they are much stronger and faster than them

Suns hunts New Moons as food

And in return New Moons do the same

Whenever a Sun is killed by the New Moons, the little creatures would gather together and throw a big party to celebrate their rare victory against their biggest threat in the wild

They called the celebration “The Feast of Eclipse”, like the name, Eclipse appears rarely, and it is the only time a moon can dominate a sun, even if only for a short amount of time

During the celebration, they would dance and sing around their kill and pray for the safety of their kind and for their god to protect them against the many predators they face. It’s a traditional ritual for them

After the ritual, they would cut up the Sun beast and prepare its flesh for the feast. Suns are very good nutritions for the Moons so they won’t let anything go to waste, they make wine out of their blood and meat for the main dishes, after the meal left over flesh will be make into jerkies, and bones will be turn into tools or decorations

Enough about New Moon, let's talk about some other sub species of Moons

This is a Full moon, they are the rarest of the Moon kind. Alike other Moons, they also disguises themselves to blend in their surroundings, but unlike others who gathers material to make their second skin, Full Moons are natural shapeshifters. They release a orb like liquid from the back of their head which made up their body, they can mold it into any form, the only flaw is that they are not able so change their facial structure and their skin patterns.

Full Moons are on the top of the Moon food chain, they eat every single Moon species which including their own kind. These bastards eat ugly look away.

They are the only Moon kind who can own and train a Sun, some keep them as pets but most use as hunting dogs to catch New Moons.

This is all I got at the moment! here's a chart of all the Moon phases, I am planning to introduce the Quarters and Gibbous in the future so keep an eye out if you're interested! I love making character concept it gives my brain something to work with when I'm on break :]

Oh also! feel free to make your own little Moon Phase creature designs and please tag me if you plan to post it I wanna see I’m curious what y’all make of them!

#my art #oc #Moon phase creatures #character design #character concept #cw animal death #cw blood #tw blood #cw body horror #full moons are so weird I love them so much

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palidoozy-art · 1 year

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Long time no see. Sorry, I'm usually a little... drained around this time.

Concepts for a D&D race for my players, called the Elunin. They took inspiration from the Khajiit (and obviously Viera), where they appear differently based on what phase of the moon they were born.

More info about them/me rambling under the cut.

So my players in my main campaign were interested in trying Pathfinder 2E, and I wanted a chance to play Kjosev more. So we decided we'd start a potential one-shot right before the Eclipse (a period in our world about 200-ish years ago when the sun went out for an entire year that set the world back drastically).

One of my players adores Viera, and he wanted to bring his FFXIV character into D&D/Pathfinder. We looked at adapting Beastkin or Harengon... but it didn't quite fit what we wanted. So the player and I worked together to conceptualize a race. He decided to call them the Elunin. The name isn't based off of the WoW goddess Elune -- he randomly generated it and happened to really like the name -- but it's a coincidence we're fine with.

Like I stated above, they took inspiration from the viera (obviously) and the khajiit. Depending on their birthday, they take on a different form. Those born under the new moon appear almost completely human, and those born under the full moon appear almost fully rabbit. Those born on the in-between phases sit somewhere... well, in-between.

They are effectively genderless until they reach a certain age, upon which they choose their gender role. Some never choose.

They do not have a traditional two-parent family unit -- rather, the entire group of them raise kids, and are effectively all treated as parents.

They revere the moon, thinking of it as their true parent, and so they view the stars as their siblings. They're heavily interested in the skies and space above (which they call the Great Warren), because they dream of one day visiting their siblings.

and yes the full moon rabbit can talk.

#palidoozy arts #d&d #character design #artists on tumblr #digital art #we're still coming up with the specifics of the race #in terms of like #actual stats #but my players are really excited to play one to the point that i might have two of them

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plzfeedmebread · 1 year

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Resplendent

word count: 1220

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Female! Metkayina! Na'vi Reader Tags/warnings: Fluff, angst, bittersweet, established relationship, adult reader, adult Neteyam, no smut Summary: Neteyam quietly watches you from the shore as you perform a ritual dance in the water, to the utter delight of your daughters.

Author's Note: Set some time after the big battle. Also moved those events further ahead. You and Neteyam are mated and have children before the RDA attacks the reef. Got inspired by the song~

Sa’nu - mum, mommy

Tahni - bioluminescent freckle

Close your eyes.

Deep breathes.

Remember the moves.

Remember the words...

Your heart thrums in your chest almost painfully. You take a deep, slow, calming breath; placing a hand over your heart.

“Sa’nu? Are you okay?”

You open your eyes, looking down to meet the gaze of your youngest daughter. The cool water of the sea comes up to her neck. Sweet thing. You told her, she and her sister could watch you from the shoreline. But they were persistent to be as close to you as possible. The water barely reaches your hips.

You offer a soft smile, reaching down and affectionately stroking her hair.

“I’m okay…Don’t worry my little star. Mommy’s just nervous.” The 5-year-old beams up at you with a toothy grin. Your 6-year-old beside her pats you on the arm.

“You practiced aaaaall the time! You got this.” She offers you her own encouraging smile. You give her an appreciative nod before facing the shoreline once more. You return your face to neutrality, closing your eyes once again.

You hear the disturbance of the water as your daughters move a bit to the side to give you more space to move.

With one final calming breath, you open your mouth and begin the song cord of your family.

---

Neteyam stands under the shade of a nearby tree on the shoreline. His arms are crossed as he watches the three of you.

The evening breeze carries your voice to him. He stands up straight when the sound hits his ears.

When you sing, it reminds him of the melody of birdsong in spring. No matter how many years may pass between you two, every time he hears you play the instrument of your heart, he feels like he could fall in love with you all over again.

He takes in your form as you start swaying in the water, admiring you from top to bottom.

Your hair, thick and long, reaching all the way down to your knees; you and your sisters spent what must have been hours, braiding it into the intricate patterns now adorning your head.

Even from this distance, he can still make out the faint markings of the tattoos framing your face. Though today you also have a thin line of white painting the centre of your face. You could have mud smeared all over and he would still find you to be the most beautiful woman; you have him convinced you are blessed by Eywa herself.

You arms move slow and with purpose through the air; attuned with the words as they fall from your lips.

Your soft lips.

How he wishes he could kiss you right now.

You dip down, submerging your arms into the water. In one fluid motion, you rise back up to your feet, the motion you perform with your hands and arms bring water up with you as you rose. Your arms are stretched out to your sides as you pirouette.

Neteyam’s heart skips a beat as he watches you, and it’s as if time itself slows, just so he can drink in the beauty of your very being.

With your back to eclipse, your front is cast in shadow.

The water falls around you in a shimmering curtain of rain. The last light of eclipse hits the smooth stones woven into the fabric on your chest; causing a cascade of colours to dance across your skin. And when the sun disappears, your tahni come to life like the brilliance of dawn.

It’s one of his most favourite parts of your body. Though you had the scattered stars as did all Na’vi, for reasons he attests only to being blessed by Eywa, you have thin bioluminescent swirls weaving itself around your arms, chest, and all down your legs. To him it’s like a faint galaxy glittering in the night.

He recalls fondly the memory of him knowing each and every star on your body intimately.

And in the fading light of the day do you shine before him. Resplendent as you are in the day, so too will you dazzle the world around you in the darkness of the approaching night.

His heart throbs something fierce when you open your eyes after dipping into the water once more. Even behind the curtain of water, or the netting of the fabric draped over your head, your eyes glow with a fierceness he knows all to well. It pierces his very soul, a warmth sweeping over him.

He drinks you in more as you bend your form this way and that. He wishes he knew the intricacies of your dance; understood what each fluid motion meant, the significance of each swish of your tail, or the ways you angle your hands and bend your fingers.

You close your eyes as you near the end of the cord song.

As you perform another twirl, you playfully swat the water with your thick tail, splashing your daughters.

Their uncontrollable gigging brings a smile to your face. You open your eyes as you continue to dance, giving them a loving look. They’re splashing each other with reckless abandon as they try to imitate your moves. You can’t help the unrestrained laughter their antics bring you.

Neteyam laughs quietly to himself as he watches his girls playfully flay about in the water. Every day since their birth he’s given thanks to both you and the Great Mother for blessing him with such miracles. He hadn’t thought it was possible to love something as much as he loved you.

He feels a stray tear fall down his cheek. But he doesn’t move to wipe it away. Instead he continues to smile as he watches your song and dance coming to its conclusion.

You turn to face the horizon, and his gaze drifts to his girls.

They’re singing something he can’t quite make out, but he loves the sound nonetheless.

And when their eyes meet his, finally noticing his presence, they wave at him wildly, giggling all over again.

His smile grows wider, and he offers them a small wave back.

---

One final pose, and you hold the final note of your song, eyes still closed. You hold that note until your lungs and throat burn.

You hear the excited cheers of your daughters as they shower you with praise. Your breathing is laboured as your heart pounds in your chest, but you offer them a bow and a small smile of gratitude.

You turn yourself to the horizon before you finally open your eyes. The ritual dance has come to and end.

You rub the cool ocean water on your cheeks, in your neck, and down your arms; all in an effort to cool you down from your laborious activity. You breath deep in from the nose, and slowly exhale through your mouth, calming your rapid heartbeat.

The girls still giggle beside you, resuming their unrefined dancing; now also singing their favourite lullaby in lieu of a songcord.

Sufficiently cooled off, you turn your head to your daughters to admire them in their silliness.

Your brow nits in slight confusion though, when you see them waving at something behind you, giggling all the while.

You turn around, curiosity in your eyes.

But the shoreline is just as empty as when you arrived.

---

Author's Notes: It was a private funeral dance 😢

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raribella · 1 year

Text

Braid Beads. | N.S

summary: Neteyam helps you undo your braids.

pairing: Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan x Omaticaya!reader

genre: tooth-rotting fluff.

involves: established relationship, nothing suggestive, ONE mention of nudity and envisioning mating, the reader cannot deal with her own hair to save her life.

word count: 1,2k

notes: Inspired by my lack of coordination when taking off my own braids last week, I got so frustrated and it took so long that the only thing that kept me going was picturing a scene that based this whole blurb. I really hope you liked it, I wrote it pretty fast, and apparently, I and the English language are on good terms today. notes comments and reblogs are really appreciated. Requests are open.

It was almost eclipse when Neteyam started looking for you. When he arrived home from training with Jake, he had expected to find you and just enjoy your comforting company for the rest of the day, but when his mother told him you had left to bathe a while ago at the river, a glimpse of worry formed in the back of his mind as he started to look for you. It was not dark yet when he arrived at the shore, hearing your faint grunts that seemed both pained and annoyed. Alarmed, Neteyam ducked his head forward so the tree that was blocking his vision could get out of the way, and he nearly chuckles in relief at the vision he was met with.

You were sitting cross-legged on the lakeside, loincloth and breast beads still on as your head was hanging down, your hands fidgeting in between your hair and a wooden comb, making a variety of frowns as you got annoyed with your braids, grunting whenever you got your hair pulled. Neteyam honestly felt like he could peer at that for hours, in awe of your antics and having fun at the same time. He actually only stopped when you turned your head slightly up, buffing exasperated — which made you able to get a glimpse of his face hidden behind a tree, a simple smile plastered on it. — "skxawng! for how long have you been there?!" your posture fell completely, giving up.

Neteyam chuckled again, all his problems seemed to have gone like dust in a gush of wind, "long enough! do you want any help?", to that, you only managed to huff again, mouth opening in a proud "argh!" as you looked to your side in shame, running away from his gaze. At that and the subtle purple forming in your cheeks, Neteyam couldn't help but let his own mouth form yet another simple smile as he knew what it meant. You did need help with taking off your braids — and you hated that he caught on to it so easily. —

Neteyam walked over, his own braids dancing side to side as he moved. He took a seat right behind you, his legs dangling to the side of your own, making you comfortably hugged by them as he gently grabbed the tip of one of your braids, a few of your curls shifting with his touch. He clicked his tongue, noticing they were too dry to try and undo them like this, and that your efforts turned out to form little knots along your hair. The contact of his hands on your scalp made you at ease, but your relaxed complexion went away as he exclaimed light-heartedly "you're like a baby!"

You pouted, eyebrows knitting together and face turning abruptly in his direction, your hair working like a whiplash directly on his face, which made the na'vi purse his lips together in a tight line. "come on," he rushed you calmly, hands getting on your back so you could move, the heat contrasting with the cold atmosphere of the river, "you know you are! get in so we can get your hair wet, I'll take them off for you." His caring energy made you obey within seconds, the purple hue appearing on your cheeks again as you blushed. You didn't like to think you were being a nuisance with his already hustling routine, but to have someone look out for you in a way that wasn't parenting sent a warm feeling to your chest, it was soothing, loving, and new, and you liked it.

Removing both loincloths and whatever else you needed, Neteyam guided you with his right hand on your lower back as the other found your shoulder, there was a small waterfall a few steps before you, and the water wasn't much cold now that your skin got used to its temperature. The waterfall wasn't one of much pressure in its fall down, yet the splashing of water that fell on your head made you giggle, and Neteyam mirrored the sound haphazardly, murmuring, "little skxawng…"

Before you could sit down you quickly turned around, pulling his face toward yours, a fun smile still plastered on your face as you touched foreheads first, intensely staring at each other as you brushed noses, and finally closing your eyes as you kissed slowly. Staying with foreheads touched for a while, Neteyam's eyes went wide as he opened them to be met with a darkening color in the sky, "come on, yawne! (darling) It's almost dark!" He rushed you, who promptly seated on the river, the water not reaching further than your belly button and the water pressure still generating a funny feeling on your scalp.

With the help of the running water and Neteyam’s agile fingers, you divided your hair into two halves, one was yours and the other his. While the boy was quick to have his section of your hair nearly finished, whenever you thought you were doing really good with unraveling the hairdo, it formed a knot on your slim fingers, which led you to, in looping, exclaim in annoyance, grab the comb, and try to rapidly get rid of the knot.

“You’re going to lose a lot of hair, you know? Leave it to me, yawne.” He calmly stated, the neon lights of the lake and your surroundings already glowing with the nighttime, you paused, looking up so your eyes could reach him, but not get in the way of his handy work, “I’m sorry.” Neteyam blinked, his eyebrows knitting together for a split second, glowing freckles and amber eyes looking right into you, “what are you sorry about? Y/n, you’re my amhul, I want to take care of you, you know?” You smiled as he called you “his woman” still trying to get used to the intimacy of the both of you, even in a moment like this. “It’s past eclipse, ‘teyam… They’ll miss you” He knew what you were referring to. The curfew Jake and Neytiri had agreed and established with all of their children. He wasn’t being reckless, though, he wouldn’t leave you be to behave like a child and hurt yourself while taking off your braids, and his mother knew he had left looking for you – having the soft spot for you Neytiri grew to have, she would let this pass no questions asked. — “Y/n,” his tone was serious. deep. “Nga yawne lu oer. I’ll take care of you and then stay with you whenever you need me to. Hopefully for the rest of my life.” The feeling of his hands running through your braids and meticulously undoing it all was nearly massaging, distracting you. You blushed in a mauve color as your mind wandered to the suggestion of you and Neteyam being mates when he said he wanted to be with you for the rest of your lives, and as he finished letting all of your hair loose, he tapped your head lightly twice, holding his hand out in front of you so you could get up.

At the sight of his hand held out, blue fingers hanging in front of you, you grabbed it with your smaller one, kissing the back of his palm with your eyes closed, turning to him as soon as you got up. “Nga yawne lu oer. Thank you.” You smiled fondly, looking into each other’s eyes, eyebrows shooting up as the both of you stood in awe of the other. “You look beautiful with your hair like this.”

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spikesbicth · 5 months

Text

Your Whole World

Astarion x Reader!Female!DarkUrge One shot

approx 3.2k words.

CW: 18+, minors DNI, face fucking, oral sex, fingering, PiV, smut, choking, bleeding, biting. rough sex, creampie, blood play

cross posted on ao3

A/N: oh hi everyone… I couldn’t resist adding an Astarion smut to my repertoire. Besides, he has such a chokehold on me right now. A few things; if you have read my other posted one shot, you make notice a few similarities. I’m very proud of that fic and this being my first time writing in over a year, I borrowed a few elements from it to inspire me and get ideas flowing. It’s minor, but just FYI. also, sorry if there are any glaring grammatical mistakes/typos/tense errors. also i barely proofread. the majority of this was written in the middle of the night so I could give all of you sadistic fucks the most heinous christmas gift ever. So enjoy some sex and a dash of fluff. please don’t hesitate to give me feedback :)

Nothing sparked a glow in Astarion’s eyes like watching you standing over your most recent kill; bloodied and battered beneath you moments after landing your final strike. Lowering your hands and brushing loose hair from out of your face, you lift your gaze to meet his.

“Gods, it never gets old watching you work” he purrs, stepping towards you to further relish the moment now that the enjoyment of the bloodbath you created could begin.

Months had passed since you freed yourselves of your pasts. Astarion, exacting revenge against Cazador and ascending to his present form. Yourself through your rejection of Bhaal. Together you destroyed the Elder Brain, banishing any doubt that either of you would be puppeted by anyone, ever again. You remembered the night it all ended fondly, Astarion pressing you to accept his gift of immortality. Though you declined at the time, citing your desire to experience the rush of near death but a few more times, you assured you always planned to accept and commit to an eternity with him. You also remembered the way he fucked you that night, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy and back. How he promised to make you edge for every so-called “rush-of-near-death” you wished to experience before entering immortality with him. How he fed on you until you were nearly drained, exacting his dominance over your life. How much you

fucking.

loved it.

In the time since that night, you had parted ways with your companions and set forth on your journey together. Time was spent ravaging the nobles estates, killing off anyone who threatened you, giving in to every sadistic whim and desire. Nothing but the exacting of pure chaos as a victory lap before getting down to the real business. Power was still to be exacted.

“My Queen of the Hells…” He breathes, stepping towards you across the white tiled floor of the home belonging to whatever Mage of High Sorcery you had just butchered. Still meeting his gaze, you watch his pupils dilate as the scent of your own blood from the oozing gash on your cheek overcomes him.

You smile, extending your hand for him to take. His hand meets yours for a brief moment, before tracing his fingers up your forearm across to your waist and holding you firmly against his body. The both of you take a moment to admire the bodies that dotted the main floor of the ornate home, and the blood that so starkly contrasted the white decor.

“Shall we explore?” You ask, a cunning smile spreading across your lips. Astarion nods, his face dotted with specks of blood and his pupils so black they eclipsed his crimson irises.

“My love, you know I want to.” He affirms, his voice liquid velvet echoing the grand hall you stood in. After all this time, even his smallest endearments still fill your abdomen with warmth.

Together, you proceed up the opulent white tile staircase to the second level. There is no secret as to what you were looking for. Nothing filled you with lust and desire the way watching Astarion dominate his opponents in battle did. His most malicious attacks read like a dance, it seemed even his enemies were not immune to melting in his striking gaze. Though you promised to yourself that you would never be a servant to anyone again, the rules were much more malleable when it came to Astarion. You adored being under him, subject to his control and desires, the feeling of existing to pleasure him. Property he cherished, though still his property, he once declared.

At the end of the hallway at the top of the stairs, the former tenants bedroom lay vacant and freshly tidied. You watch as his graceful hand turns the doorknob and unlatches the door. On the other side was an appropriately opulent bed chamber dimly lit by fading mage light, now that the magic of the previous owner had begun to dispel. Upon entering the room, Astarion’s focus intensifies on you.

“Gods… you’re so beautiful…” He turns to you, his eyes examining your face, one of his fangs caught on the outside of his slightly parted lips. He brings his free hand to your bloodied cheek, pressing his thumb into it. You welcome the wince of pain at his hand and lingering for a moment. You could see the lust in his darkened eyes, hear the desire in his gruff voice.

You bring your hand to meet his on your face, and press his thumb deeper into your wound. The pain elicits a sharp exhale, and you watch Astarions eyes flicker to yours then back to your wound. Every sensation he imparts upon you was a taste of bliss. He slips his hand out from under yours, and brings his thumb to his mouth, gently licking it before closing his lips around it. A soft moan escapes him. He wants all of you.

The moment he removes his thumb from his mouth, you move to meet his lips with yours, entering a forceful and hungry kiss. You taste the slight sour of your blood in his mouth as he teases your lips with his tongue. You press your body against his, feeling a growing bulge in his pants.

“May I, darling?” He asks as his hands find the bottom of your shirt . You nod, and he tugs it over your arms and head. Your freed breasts bounce gently from the movement, and Astarion quickly brings his fingers to your erecting nipples. You press yourself further into him, kissing him hard. He hadn’t yet removed his light armour, and the coolness of the metal tingles your nipples and hardens them even further. He kneels, trailing kisses down your chest as you stand, and makes quick work of the tie holding up your trousers. He slides them off you with your undergarments and aided you in removing your shoes. He rises to standing again, gently nibbling at you on the way up to meet your lips again.

You pull away from the kiss for a moment, bringing a hand down to the base of his top, awaiting him to assist you in the removal of his layers.

“Mmmm..” He moans in anticipation, “Not this time my pet.” A sultry growl in his voice. He places his hands on your shoulders, and slowly presses you down. “On your knees, my precious thing.” He orders.

You obey, lowering to the floor. The cold hard tile digging into your kneecaps as you look up to Astarion from the ground.

You are his precious thing.

He takes a step back to remove his own armor and clothing as you watch, kneeling naked on the floor in front of him. Your heart quickened and you felt your folds dampen with arousal as Astarion removed his pants, freeing his erect cock that had been buldging for freedom just moments prior. His tip already slick with precum, glistening in the dusky room. Your mouth waters in anticipation. He indulges in a few strokes of his length before stepping closer to you, your eyes level with his muscular lower abdomen. There you sat beneath him, eyes wide with admiration and chilled from the cool tile floor, dripping in your own arousal, waiting.

“My love, do open your mouth for me.” He asks, his voice a breathy hush.

You obey, parting your lips and letting your tongue slide out. You knew how he wanted to use you, how you wanted to worship him. With your hands clasped behind your back, you welcomed his cock into your mouth. Your mouth waters at the saltiness of his precum and Astarion’s composure falters as a moan escapes him. He adored fucking you this way.

His cock quickly met the back of your throat, and you began to salivate fiercely to welcome it. You try to swallow but your throat closes around Astarion’s cock, and saliva begins to pool in your lower jaw. He slowly fucks your mouth, pulling out so that his tip met your lips, then thrusting hard to push his cock further and further down your throat, digging for your gag reflex. You cough, and your vision blurs as tears well up in your eyes.

“Oh, that’s it pet,” He moans, pushing deeper into your throat. Tears spill over, running down your cheeks and you blink to clear your vision as well as you can. He feels the flood of saliva building in your mouth and withdraws, then cocks his head to one side in admiration of you. Saliva flows down your chin and neck, dripping on the floor between you. You gasp for air, then open your mouth once again. He smirks, and runs his hand through your hair. He aligns his cock with your mouth again once more, you allow him to enter but not before teasing the spot below his glans that you know will send thunder through him.

The delicate moment is lost upon an abrupt thrust of Astarion’s hips, forcing his cock as far down your throat as he could. He continues to fuck your face with concentrated thrusts at the back of your throat, blocking any air from entering your lungs. A burning sensation grows in your chest as you try and fail gasp for air. Your vision grows fuzzy as a dark veil begins to shroud the corners of your vision, and you begin to choke. He takes a fistful of your hair and pulls you off of your cock, leaving a string of saliva pulling from your mouth to the tip of his throbbing length. Tears trail down your cheeks and you quietly gasp for air. Seconds after you inhale he shoves his cock back into you, fucking even harder than before.

“That's it my love, I know you yearn for breathlessness, I could give you this forever.” He praises, tightening his grip on your hair and humming with pleasure. You catch him with his gaze towards the ceiling, enjoying the filthy sounds. Beginning to feel the fire in your chest building again, Astarion pulls himself out and you gasp for breath, this time with enough time to notice the tears and saliva mixing with the blood from your face flowing down your bare chest.

Nearly as exerted as yourself, Astarion comes to his knees to greet you, meeting your slick and swollen lips with his own.

“Look what you’ve done to me…” you whispered between kisses, reaching up to feel the wetness on your face.

“I am not nearly done with you yet,” Astarion growls, pulling away from your lips then tonguing over his own, relishing the taste of your blood. He placed one hand on your mid back, and another to guide you down to lay gently on the floor. The chill of the tile on your warmed skin sent a shiver through your body, causing your nipples to erect once again and goosebumps to cover your body. Astarion smirks, admiring your body and the arousal leaking from between your legs. He works his way down your neck placing loose, open mouth kisses down your neck and chest, allowing his fangs to catch on your skin as he moves. He finds your left nipple and began to trace his tongue around the hardened sphere of flesh, sucking and flicking.

“Astar…ion….” you moan, fluttering your eyes. Now he was just teasing you, waiting for your patience to wane. “A..Ast..star..ion” you moan again, your clit swelling and throbbing between your legs. “P…p..please… Ast..star..ion” you beg, undulating your hips to touch his, attempting to alert him of your desires.

“Impatient tonight are we, my dear?” He coos, looking up to your eyes from where his face rested on your breast.

“P..please… touch me..” you beg, and you see a grin spread across his face, his two fangs glinting in the light.

“Now am I supposed to say no to that?” he asserts, not breaking his gaze as he begins kissing and lightly biting down your abdomen. Your stomach fluttered as you watched him move towards your pelvis. You admire his beautiful silver curls shift on his head while he moves his hands to your thighs to signal you to spread them, and you obey.

He traces circles with his fingers on your thighs, sending shivers through your body. Slick fluid drips through your folds and you feel your walls pulsating with the beat of your heart, you are desperate for him. You are certain you have never wanted anyone more than you have ever wanted Astarion, beautiful, powerful, Astarion. His aspirations, his ascension, and your mutual freedom, his unwavering devotion to you and only you. Gods, was there anything else you truly needed besides him?

You are snapped back to reality when he licks his cunning tongue up your folds, circling quickly around your clit. You take a sharp breath in and wrap your legs over his muscular shoulders, taking a fistful of his curls in your right hand. He wraps an arm around one leg and pressed down on your lower abdomen a few finger widths above your pelvic bone, not breaking the contact between his tongue and your clit. His ascendant strength holds you down as you adjust your hips, begging for him to indulge you. He teases your entrance with an icy finger, and you clench around nothing. A moment later, he slowly pushes two fingers inside of you, hooking them rhythmically to catch your G-spot. Your back arches and waves of warmth course through your body, reveling in the pleasure he was bestowing upon you. He drags you up to the “Darling, I thought you’d never ask” he responds coyley. It was often routine for him to feed on you while he fucked you, elevating his own ecstasy and you enjoying the way he held your delicious little life in his hands.

He kisses his way to your left inner thigh, and without warning, pierces his fangs into your tender skin, and blood begins to spill. You breathe out slowly, enjoying the pain he inflicts on you and the pleasure from the fingers still toying with your clit. You feel him drinking from you and your blood pressure dropping, sending a shockwave of dizziness to your head. This was pleasure like you had never experienced before him.

Astarion rises from his feed at your thigh, and slinks his way back to meet your mouth with his. Once again you taste your own blood in his mouth as he kisses you with such urgency and near corporeal desire.

“I need you… to be inside you..” he desperately speaks between kisses, and you feel him shift his weight to fumble with his throbbing cock. His facade has cracked, palpable, burning eagerness leaking through. He parts your folds and drags his cock against his bite, still exuding blood. For a moment he teases your entrance with his tip, but you know his grip on his composure was slipping. Carnal. Insatiable, it was coming.

He thrusts inside of you, and you moan with adjuration. Your walls expand for him, and you spread your legs, bending your knees to allow him the deepest thrusts he could muster. Your breasts bouncing in rhythm with him, and you reach your arms around his shoulders to pull him nearer to you. You moan hungrily in his ear, knowing this and the filthy noises of your fucking would drive him duly mad. He moans, breathing heavily and kissing you hard, enjoying every sensation of you around his cock. It was clear that he was edging to his finale, but it was now your turn.

You untangle your arms from him and press your hands on the front of your chest, and gain enough leverage to roll him off you and onto his back, you, only an instant behind him. You slide him back inside of you, then bring your hand to his mouth for another taste of your wetness and blood. He closes his eyes and licks your fingers, preparing himself for your turn of the fun.

His cock flexes inside of you and you find his wrists and guide his arms above his head, gripping them tightly to the floor. Your extended position leaves your breasts hanging just above his mouth, and he lifts his head to lick and suck. Slowly at first, you lift your hips so only the tip of his length remains inside of you, linger for a moment, only to come crashing down to him. His eyes widened and mouth opened, an aching moan coming from within him. You repeated the motion, watching him gasp and moan, withholding and flooding him with pleasure. The stickiness of your arousal, his precum, and your blood mixing on his thighs, squelching with each of your movements. After demonstrating your control over him, you release your grip from his wrists above his head, and lean back, forcing his cock to press into your walls. His hands find your hips, and he digs his fingers into you as you rhythmically fuck him. You push him closer and closer as slowly as you can handle. You push him to the edge, so, so close.

You find your swollen clit with your free hand, and begin rubbing in heavy circles. Astarion loves watching you pleasure yourself on him, using him to reach your own peak before allowing him his own. As you rub yourself and ride him, you feel intense pleasure rising within you.

“I- I’m going to come,” you moan, moving your hips faster and faster on his cock while applying more pressure on your throbbing clit.

Astarion opens his mouth to speak, but no words arrive, only fast, broken breaths.

You sing his name while you squeeze him with your thighs, gushing over his cock. Finally, you are over the edge. An intense euphoria floods through you as your walls contract around his cock. Your heart races and you gasp for breath, reveling in the pure pleasure you were experiencing. Astarion bucks his hips into you, desperate to spill himself inside. His silver curls now clung to his sweat-dampened forehead.

“O-oh f.. oh fuck…” He speaks, now fully lost his control and desperate only to join you in your pleasure. The contractions of your walls on him are sending him over. A powerful moan rises from his chest and with a few beastly thrusts inside of you, he spills. When he comes, he throws his head back and moans your name so it echoes within the tiled bed chambers.

His thrusts mellow, and eventually his twitching cock inside you calms. You lay forward on him,

His breath slows, and he wraps his arms around you, welcoming his coolness. He kisses your temple, then begins to rise. He helps you to the freshly made bed, and rests beside you.

“I love you, Astarion.” you say quietly, delighting in his arms woven around you.

There you lay together in your nakedness, the sweetness of your undying love cleansing all desire for anything more. No promise of power could be worth the sacrifice of losing each other. Despite both your aspirations and contributions to chaos, the constant of having each other for eternity was an invaluable prize to you both. You turn and delicately kiss his neck, breathing in and savouring his scent garnished with the metallic of your blood that was beginning to dry and crack on your skin. You feel his embrace tighten around you and you close your eyes, listening to his beating heart and melting into the arms of your little star. And he loves you too.

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eu-nicola · 3 months

Text

Emotional Labyrinth - Luke Castellan x Reader

summary: You see yourself enveloped in a love that consumes and hurts you but that feels like love.

warnings: This story contains depictions of toxic and emotionally abusive relationships. Themes include emotional pain, confusion, and internal struggle. If these topics may be triggering or problematic for you, I recommend considering whether you want to continue reading. Remember that your emotional well-being is the most important thing.

inspired by “ultraviolence” by lana del rey

Before you could realize that you were in love with that boy with the curls and the scar on his face.

Falling in love was easy, his brave, charismatic and seductive nature were what attracted you. You had heard and they had told you about how manipulative he could be but you never really listened, from the beginning you felt so attracted to him that you didn't pay attention to anything else.

You didn't go unnoticed in his eyes either, you were the daughter of Aphrodite, of course you were going to catch his attention, your beauty, intelligence and charisma dazzled everyone, especially the men. You didn't go unnoticed in anyone's eyes and you liked that, being the center of attention.

This caught Luke's attention, so much so that he began to spend time with you, accompanying you to your cabin at night or walking around the camp when no one was watching, it was really lovely to be with him. As you spent more time together, the connection between you became deeper and deeper, but also more complex.

Luke seemed to exert an irresistible magnetism over you, drawing you more and more towards him and his desires. You found yourself caught in an emotional web, fighting addiction to the intensity Luke offered you. Even though you were just friends because he didn't want anything else, there were episodes of jealousy when you talked to other guys or when he thought you were doing something wrong. You tried every way possible to not get him mad at you because you knew he might go off with some other girl and that was the last thing you wanted.

The more you spent time with him the more he consumed you, he was like a vampire sucking your blood and consuming you. You were entering increasingly turbulent waters, the shadow of the emotional labyrinth in which you were trapped became denser. You struggled to find a balance between the passionate love you felt for Luke and the need to preserve his own emotional integrity.

And even through everything you always chose the love you felt for him because you knew that the love you felt for Luke wasn't enough for him but when you were in his arms he made you feel divine and loved, most of the time when he wasn't a jealous idiot spoiled and adored you. Your thoughts were so clouded that you didn't know if he was actually doing that because a part of him wanted you or just to keep you by his side. He clung to you as much as you clung to him but the difference was that he didn't get hurt.

Those few times where your thoughts were clear you wrote to free yourself. Your trembling hands held a letter you had written in a desperate attempt to give form to the feelings that were consuming you.

“You hurt me in ways I can’t even put into words,” you murmured softly, as if you were talking to yourself. "Every lie, every act of contempt, every moment in which I felt invisible in your eyes..."

A lone tear ran down your cheek as you continued, "But the strangest thing of all is that, in the midst of all that pain, I still found a way to justify it as love. As if every wound inflicted by you was further proof of how deep it was." "Our bond. It was as if the tears shed were a tribute to the love I felt for you, a love so intense that it eclipsed even the sharpest pain."

The letter trembled in your fingers as you continued writing, trying to unravel the tangle of emotions that had kept you trapped in an endless cycle of love and pain. And after all that you just burned them, letter by letter.

And with eyes red with tears that refused to stop. You realized that it wasn't the violence that scared you, but the certainty that no matter what Luke did, you would come back to him again and again. It was like he knew exactly how to lift you up in your darkest moments, how to wrap you in a hug that seemed to contain the entire universe.

Sometimes you desperately longed to return to the past, to a time when his paths had not crossed. But despite everything you loved him from the first time and you would love him until the end.

That feeling of being elevated above the emotional chaos that consumed you. Despite the pain and confusion, you kept coming back to his arms, seeking refuge in him, and at the end of the day he kept coming back to you too.

#fanfic #oneshot #imagine #x reader #percy jackson #pjo series #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo x you #luke castellan x you #luke castellan oneshot #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo x reader

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springtrappd · 1 year

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You said in one post that the author of Solar Lunacy is ableist. Could you explain how they're being problematic? I know almost nothing about them or the story itself, so I wouldn't know if they've said or done anything sus. Also, thank you for actually criticizing the Daycare Attendant stans, almost nobody in this site does that.

thank you for asking! it's rare to see, you're right, but it's also rare that people are willing to actually engage with that critical posting, so -- again, thank you! as for your question: oh boy, can i!

first: the basics. dissociation is a psychological response to overwhelming stress wherein the brain... disassociates from itself, placing a barrier between itself and the harsh reality. the most famous dissociative disorder is dissociative identity disorder (DID), known formerly as multiple personality disorder (MPD) or split personality. did occurs when someone without a fully-formed identity (read: a child) undergoes such severe stress that the 'brain' dissociates from its identity itself, creating alternate identities (personalities) to deal with the things they can't. these alternate identities work together to form a system. it's way more complicated than that and you can read more on it here and here but that's the bare minimum for the ignorant in the audience. we all caught up? good! moving on.

now, the question of whether or not the daycare attendant is a system is a touchy one. i've seen multiple different stances on the matter, seen a lot of arguments, and typed (and deleted) several hundreds of words about it, and the answer that i've come to is that, for the sake of this argument, whether the dca is a system in canon doesn't matter. what matters is how bamsara treats them. how do they handle the characters, how do they frame the switches in personality, the confusion, all the parallels to real-world symptoms -- how do they expect the viewer to feel, what do they pull from the cultural lexicon, yadda yadda. does bamsara -- regardless of their intentions -- depict the dca as a system, and if so, how do they handle it?

the answer is that they depict the dca as experiencing altered identity states, switching (and even blurring) between identities, and even repeatedly acknowledges them as a plural entity.

and it is these behaviours, specifically, that are used to make the dca scary. bamsara's daycare attendant is scary because they experience altered identity states. because they blur identities. because they are a plural entity. because they display the textbook symptoms and behaviours of a disorder most commonly caused by childhood sexual abuse. and it is the fear that this is inspires that makes them (but especially moon & eclipse) sexy.

now, one can argue that this is simply in line with existing horror media, and they would be correct: most pop culture depictions of dissociative disorders are extremely ableist, and have real-world consequences! but what makes it really, really shitty is that... i don't want to think about this stuff. i don't come to fandom to be reminded that people are terrified of what they don't understand, and that that very very often includes the mentally ill. i don't want to be reminded that there are people who don't believe dissociative disorders exist at all. i don't want to reminded that they -- the sick, the survivors, the unlucky 140 million -- are spoken of in the same way as monsters. i don't come here for harsh realities. but solar lunacy is the most kudos'd fnaf fic on ao3, and we all have to live with that.

if you liked solar lunacy or bamsara's content or... whatever, i don't particularly care. i'm not mad about people thinking evil alters are sexy, or engaging with horror content that says shitty things about systems -- it's your life, live it how you please (and i've got a vanny icon so who am i to judge lmao). sometimes the things that make us happy are kinda shitty, and that's okay! our views are shaped by the society we live in, and there is no society on earth that is kind to the mentally ill -- there's no way to undo that, to stop that from influencing you in some capacity. but... all i ask is for you to think about this stuff, and try to educate yourself on the topic. there's nothing wrong with making a mistake, or having flaws -- but there's something wrong with making a space that feels unsafe, that reflects some of the more uncomfortable aspects of our society, that unintentionally hurts people. it's just up to you if that something is something you care about.

i hope that answers your question, anon (and anyone else who's curious). take care, mate!

(edit 13/01/2023: due to some technical difficulties on tumblr's end, the notes aren't quite showing up properly, so here's the link to bamsara's reblog chain if you can't find it.)

#speaking!#asks #anon #bamsara #fnaf #discourse #long post #loooong looooooong post #sorry it got so long!! i have a lot to say abt this topic #& wanted to do my due diligence #so doubly sorry if there are any errors... 'tis midnight #also: don't ask if i have did/am a system please!#it's extremely rude and confronting to ask someone something like that #just like. putting that out there.#anyway #csa ment #child abuse ment #bs saga

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teyamsatan · 7 months

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𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝟙 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕀: 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖'𝕝𝕝 𝔹𝕖 ℍ𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝔸𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕐𝕠𝕦

pairing: Neteyam x f!Human/Avatar Reader

warnings: angst, tragic love trope, the one that got away trope, some fluff, all the feels

wc: 7k words

a/n: surprise??? besties it's been too long, i know, but i hope you enjoy chapter 2 of the 1 x anyone who follows me knows how much this story means to me, and it felt so good to be able to visit it and be inspired for it again. i promise it will absolutely not be as long between this chapter and the next x i can't wait to hear your thoughts! i love you x

to clarify: this series will be following oceans and engines mostly, but both endings will make and appearance and play a part in this story x smooches x

♥ series masterlist ♥ cruel summer ♥ series playlist ♥ masterlist

Honey, when I’m above the trees, I see this for what it is But now I’m right down in it, All the years I’ve given Is just shit we’re dividing up

Neteyam let out a quiet chuckle as his gaze fell onto your unconscious form, splayed limbs over your head and over the edge of the bed, peaceful look on your face as deep slumber still washed over you, even as eclipse has been gone for quite a while. He made his way to the window, where the blinds were drawn, pulled them apart, and watched in shock as that didn’t even begin to wake you. You and Neteyam shared a lot of traits, a lot of similarities bound you together, but your sleeping habits were definitely not one of them.

Amused, he decided to take a different approach, as he got on top of you and started trailing small, peppered kisses over your chest and neck, over your jaw and face, until eventually your eyes fluttered open and widened momentarily as you adjusted to the unexpected scene, until they melted in the mischievous, loving gaze Neteyam knew so well and loved so much.

“This is one way to wake up, I suppose.”

“A good way?”

Your lips met in a kiss, soft and intimate, not at all resembling the boundaries both of you were supposed to abide by, and right in this moment, it didn’t seem either of you particularly cared.

“The best way.”

You thought about it for a second longer, then pursed your lips in mock deliberation.

“Actually, there was another time you woke me up in an even more… pleasurable way, and I can’t say I’d object if you ever wanted to do that again.”

The memory of that morning made blood travel down south as quickly as it took for you to say the words, and he growled in your neck as his canines grazed it, as he watched you shudder under him, as he smelled your sweet aroma filling up the air he breathed.

“Vol, you have to stop talking if you want to get out of this room today.”

Neteyam could hear the smirk in your voice as you spoke.

“Who says I want to get out of this room today?”

“I do, because I want to show you something.”

Showed you all of my hiding spots I was dancing when the music stopped And in the disbelief, I can’t face reinvention I haven’t met the new me yet

Neteyam watched the door of your bathroom, intently listening for the constant hum of the shower to see if he could hear you, as if maybe by listening closely enough, he would be able to have a direct stream into your thoughts, the way it felt like he used to back when you were you and he was him and you were… well, whatever you were to each other. He probably shouldn’t have drank as much as he did - not enough to be fully intoxicated, but enough to know the filter between his mouth and brain was shaky at best, completely gone at worst, and very little good could come out of it. He knew all of that and yet, here he was, unable to stop his feet from moving to the labs, as soon as he felt like he could do so without attracting attention to himself. It was late, and most people were off to bed, so it wasn’t hard to do, even in this small settlement deep in the mountains the Omaticaya were forced to now call home.

When it became clear your thoughts would never make themselves known through the wall, his eyes wandered around, taking in every nook and cranny of this room that was an exact replica of the one you lived in all your life back in Hell’s Gate. He appreciated the humans for how much they cared for you, how much they were intent on making this little corner of the planet as homely for you as humanly possible. This room was loved and lived in; there were stains on the desk, crinkles on the chair, cracks in the walls… there were books and record players, pillows and comforters, plushies and knick knacks that Neteyam knew by heart, that screamed of you and the life you lived, that although not what you wanted or what you truly deserved, shone brightly all around you and illuminated even the darkest corners of the world.

Something caught the corner of his eyes, one of the few things he’s never seen before. A box, hidden deep in the corner beneath your desk, with a neat little label on it that said simply “Neteyam’s box. Do not open!”. If it was any other day, or any other circumstance, if his mind wasn’t clouded with the heady concoction that was way stronger than he remembered and probably the reason humans were as mindless as they were to begin with, he would have heeded the warning clearly showcased on the rectangular enclosure. But it was today, and it was these circumstances and he was intoxicated, so without dwelling on all the reasons he probably shouldn’t, he found himself reaching for it.

It was tiny in his hands, so tiny, it was hard to understand that something this small and this seemingly harmless could knock the breath out of his lungs with enough power to overcome and vanquish whatever self-control he still possessed. So many memories, all fighting for dominion over his consciousness, all painful enough to open every stitch his body’s been working so hard to craft in order to heal him. One memory in particular clearly won, one that’s already been percolating in his mind today, but now was all he could think of anymore. The keepsake he associated with it was missing from the box, which ironically made it stand out even more.

There’ll be happiness after you But there was happiness because of you Both of these things can be true There is happiness

“Mmm.. intrigue. The Omaticayan prince wants to show me something, I guess I have to oblige then.” At the roll of his eyes, you laugh and pull him by the back of the neck until your lips meet again. In these moments, it was easy to forget the reality of your circumstances, the impossibility of your relationship, the hidden aspect to it that made it so no one would ever be allowed to find out.

It’s only been a couple of months since your 19th birthday, and somehow, each day got better. Each day was a reminder that he was the best person that has ever lived, the man of your dreams, the most empathetic, unintentionally charismatic, intelligent, funniest, most beautiful person you knew… each day a dream, until the inevitable forced wake-up call that he’ll never be yours, as soon as you had to pretend in the village, in Hell’s Gate, as you had to watch the matriarchs search for an appropriate mate for him and know there was nothing you could do to stop it.

He wasn't yours to lose. Not in the way you wanted him to be, not in the way you needed him to be. You tried to push the ugly thoughts from your mind as you felt him burying his head in your neck, just breathing you in. It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. No matter what happened, no one would ever know him like you did, no one would ever be able to understand every nook and cranny of his soul the way you were able to. No matter what happened, he was yours right now. While you still had this, he will always be yours. While you could feel his heartbeat in your chest as he lay on top of you, while your body was moulded by his own and your lips knew to recite each one of his freckles like a prayer, he’ll always be yours.

“You’re not as cute as you think you are, you know?” You snicker at his words, that you may believe if it wasn’t for the way he was almost purring under your touch, or the way he was fully sunk into your body, or the way you could tell he was smiling as he said them.

“Ha! 18 years of you falling for my every whim suggests otherwise, Teyam. Now scoot, if you want me to get ready.”

“So where are we going?” fastening your oxygen mask until it clicked, you made your way out of the living headquarters and were taken aback to see Seze waiting, her soft trills greeting you as she approached, her big frame almost knocking you down as she bumped her snout into your face. “Hey, girl. What are you doing here?”

You yelped slightly as Neteyam took you by the armpits and lifted you so you could mount the banshee easier, before getting on behind you and making tsaheylu, an arm fastened across your chest, pulling you tightly into his own, keeping you close to him. You’ve done this so many times in the 6 years since Neteyam passed his Iknimaya, and despite it all, it never stopped feeling magical, and fantastical and wondrous to you, like it was almost unfair that a mere human could experience such emotions and views, such exhilaration and freedom. You wished your whole life you could one day have your own ikran and really experience it the way one was meant to, but you were grateful for whatever moment you did get, and grateful for Neteyam for always being willing to share these things with you.

“You know the drill, ma Vol. You have to ho-“

“-hold onto you like I’ll never let you go again. I know.” This saying, that he said his father told him on his first ikran ride as a child, became almost a mantra in your life, with every moment you spent in his presence.

Hold on like you’ll never let me go again.

Past the blood and bruise, past the curses and cries Beyond the terror in the nightfall Haunted by the look in my eyes That would’ve loved you for a lifetime Leave it all behind

It was painful, the way the hot water was hitting your skin, in droplets that felt like spikes, in touches that felt like stings. Your mind was scattered after the momentous day that tried you, one which you never expected to live through again.

Neteyam… your ‘Teyam… someone else’s Neteyam. Different, so different and yet… still him. Painfully so. You hoped for more, more of a change, more of a departure - you hoped for a stranger, that could allow you to forget that the person you were looking at, despite adorning some new tattoos and a different hairstyle, was the man who knew you, down to the darkest, most intimate corners of your mind. You hoped that when you looked in his eyes, you wouldn’t see the stars be born and die, you wouldn’t see 21 years of your own life and the life you shared looking back at you. You hoped his stripes, that you could still feel on your fingerprints and on your tongue, would have shifted and become muted and dull. But none of that was true. Despite everything that stood against you, despite being worlds, galaxies, universes apart, he was still the same Neteyam. The question nagged at you, unwavering and incessant: were you still the same Vol?

You felt goosebumps appear on your skin as soon as you left the confines of the shower behind. Weird - it wasn’t cold, and yet here you were, near shaking, heartbeat caught in your throat in… anticipation? Fear? It was hard to say, but, with a deep sigh, you fastened your towel and opened the door to your bedroom.

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest as you took in the man sitting on your bed, that was way too big to comfortably fit in your tiny room, not that that’s ever stopped him in all the years you’ve known him. He looked almost out of place here now, so long after the last time, and you winced a little at the contrast between the memories in your mind and what was displayed so clearly in front of you.

“Fuck! Neteyam, you scared the shit out of me! What are you doing here?”

Neteyam looked lost in thought, almost unaware of your presence or your voice, glossy eyes fixed somewhere beneath your desk, on a specific box you wish he never got to see.

“This room hasn’t changed one bit in all this time. It’s so weird. Everything’s changed…” the sigh that tried him felt like it was expelled from deep within his soul, like a sigh he’s been holding for the last year and a half. “Everything… and yet this room, it’s like a portal to the past, like I woke up in a life that feels like a mere dream sometimes.”

You don’t interrupt his musings.

“The sheets, the books, the smell, the way the light flickers sometimes, the way the mattress dips on one side more than the other because you’ve always preferred the left side of the bed, and I always had to sleep on the right, even the broken vase I broke with my tail the night I left. It’s all the same.”

His gaze finally settles on you. He looks pained as he sees you, finally the human he remembers, that he loved. It hurts him being in this room. It hurts you, too. It was your turn to sigh, as you tried to remove the images of the past flashing in front of your eyes like a picture book, and tried to focus on the reality that was still weighing heavily on your heart, no matter how many counterweights you balanced it with.

Your sigh matched his earlier one as you spoke, your eyes darting to the room that you spent less time in with each passing day, that felt as much of a relic of the past as you sometimes felt in his life.

“Yeah. I guess nothing’s changed.”

Tell me, when did your winning smile Begin to look like a smirk? When did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt?

He notices an ornate bow by the foot of the bed, clearly the make of a talented Omaticayan warrior. It annoys him to no end that he can recognise the work easily, having grown up seeing it, having been one of the few that could compare to his. It angers him further just how much the disdain doesn’t seem to want to melt away, regardless of how much he’s told himself to let it go, regardless of how he swore the reason he came here tonight had nothing to do with it. He had no right to pry, not anymore. No right to be jealous… not anymore.

“Well, at least some things have changed…”

You blush, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint not to start patting your cheeks, that feel like they caught fire.

“Tarsem made it for me. It’s cute.” You didn’t know why, it’s not like you owed him anything, but you couldn’t help the next words, that stumbled unceremoniously out of your mouth in a panicked hurry. You didn’t owe him anything, but you still needed him to know. “And platonic.”

“Yeah, so were we.” The words, and the bitterness in them, so thinly veiled despite what you assumed were his best efforts, shocked you. This wasn’t like Neteyam at all - Neteyam was kind, and careful with his words always, he was considerate and empathetic, and he was never mean, especially not to you. Especially not like this.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and the tears that threatened to spill, leaving his words to hang in the air, making it thick and heavy with heightened emotions you were both trying your best to suppress.

“That’s not fair.”

Another sigh.

“You’re right. It’s not.”

I can’t make it go away by making you a villain I guess it’s the price I pay for seven years in heaven And I pulled your body into mine every goddamn night now I get fake niceties

“Are you drunk?” One exhale was enough for the stench of bourbon to hit you like a truck, and all of a sudden, it was clear enough - why he was here, why he was saying these things, why it felt like all the bitterness in his soul, that you assume has been as deeply buried as your own, was coming out in unsightly manners, and you were the one who had to stomach it. You forget, sometimes, it was easy to - that Neteyam suffered as much as you, that he lost just as much as you did, that dreaded July 9th.

When your question was met with silence, you continued.

“Why are you here, Neteyam?”

“I came to see you. The real you. At least while I still get the chance.” His gaze hardens looking at your body. He’s yet to look at your face - whether he doesn’t want to or can’t, you can’t tell. “Grandmother tells me you’re going to go for the consciousness transfer.”

You shift uncomfortably in place. His tone was distant and once more not like the one you loved at all.

“We all are. It’s the only way forward.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes it is.” He scoffs, rolling his beautiful golden eyes, picking a spot on the wall to grimace at.

“I’m not arguing with you on this.”

“Didn’t realise there was anything to argue about.”

“You shouldn’t do it.”

It was your turn to scoff, feeling irate despite your best efforts, despite knowing it was the alcohol talking, despite knowing you should tell him to leave, that nothing productive could possibly come out of this. There was anger in you, you realise - bubbling just beneath the surface, anger you’ve buried so deep, you didn’t even know it was nestled in your soul like a parasite, looming in latency, until it was time to come to light.

“And why the hell not?”

“Because you just shouldn’t.” his glare was harsh as it snapped to finally look at you, melting a little when his eyes found yours, the ones he's loved his whole entire life.

“Oh, I see we’re being mature. I’m doing this, we all are. It’s the only way. End of discussion, Neteyam.”

“… you could die.”

Your eyes widen. There's tears in his eyes, a lump in his throat. You sigh, placated a little by the realisation that all of this, although it could have been done better, was just his way of telling you he’s worried about you. You’re grateful, so grateful, that he still is - worried, that is. Your voice softens a little as you say the next words.

“Or I could finally live.”

“Why take the chance, it makes no sense. Just stay as an Avatar.”

“No. I will never fully live in either of these bodies unless I give one up. I’ve made my decision.”

“It’s a stupid decision. It’s a rash decision.”

“Rash? Are you serious? I’ve had 21 years to make this decision, Neteyam. Twenty-one years of feeling like an outcast, like an alien - of feeling like there’s no place for me in this world. I can finally be one of the people, I can finally have a purpose, and you want me to give that up?”

There was more, so much more - it was a complicated decision, the one you took, and so much thought has gone into it, so many sleepless nights went into this… but how could you say that to him? How can you tell him that he’s part of the reason you need to do this, that you need to be rid of this body, the body he’s known and he’s touched, the body that memorised every ounce of him by heart, that still felt phantom pains from the lack of his fingers on your skin? How can you tell him you will never be free until the body he knew and loved so intimately is gone… forever?

“I hate this body, Neteyam. I hate it. This body is useless, and weak. I have nothing in this body, I lost everything because of it. Everything… You have no fucking idea what it’s like. What any of this is like.” You urged him silently, pleading for him to understand. To stop asking you questions that would dig up a grave long dug and settled, that should remain untouched, that he was unwittingly desecrating. You were scared of what would come out when he did.

“And who does? Tarsem?”

“What?” You couldn’t believe your ears, the spiteful words coming out of Neteyam’s mouth like they were nothing, like it meant nothing when it hurt and burned and ached, when the seams with which you’ve become so acquainted starting splitting with every syllable uttered, when the anger that has been bubbling up in your chest for years, that you didn’t even know you still held onto was threatening to spill and poison this room and all its inhabitants.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Are you actually saying these words out loud? I can’t believe you, Neteyam. So this is what this whole thing is about, huh? You came all this way and act like you’re worried about my safety, about the transfer, when the whole time you were just jealous of Tarsem? Jealous about something that’s not even there? He’s a friend, Neteyam. A friend.”

You’re both shouting at each other, screaming and hoping that will alleviate the pain, that will push the tears back in your tear ducts and not let them spill all over your face. You’re panting, the hurt burning holes in your chest, the anger cauterising them and making you push forward, for another blow, and then another… and then another.

“Wake up, Vol! Are you blind?! He wants you, he wants you to be the next Tsa’hik of the Omaticaya. He’s not nice because you’re such a treat to be around. He’s nice because he wants to fuck you!”

Silence. Silence that deafens, that echoes in your eardrums a lot more than the yells, roaring like a crashing waterfall. Silence. No silence can fix this. Nothing can fix this.

“Get out.”

His eyes are pits of guilt and despair, shock and terror at the words he would have never said out loud normally - you knew that. You knew he regretted them as soon as they came out of his mouth, but you didn’t care. Not right now. Not when he made the last night before your iknimaya, a night you were supposed to rest through so you can face whatever was waiting for you tomorrow, a bad memory that will only bitter with time.

“Vol, I -”

“No. Vol nothing. You don’t get to call me that anymore. That nickname was reserved for the child I grew up with, the teenager who looked out for me, the man who loved me - it’s not for you. You don’t get to come back to my life after so long just so you could try to ruin whatever little happiness I’ve managed to scrounge up from the scraps I was left with. Leave.”

“Please…”

“I don’t know what Tarsem’s intentions are. You’re right. Maybe he really does just want to fuck me. But I realised something, all this time apart. You didn’t fight for me. None of you did. You were my family, all I had, and it took you leaving and him becoming Olo’eyktan to realise I’ve never had a family. It took losing everything to see how little I had to begin with. You could have done something. You could have fought it, you could screamed and shouted at the top of your lungs that you loved me, that what we had mattered more than the clan or your duty, mattered more than controllable and comfortable mirage of peace, but you didn’t. You were ashamed of me, of what we did. It wasn’t enough for you, that I was human. You let me go, you watched me leave, I watched you mate with someone else knowing I will carry these wounds for the rest of my life and I did it with no complaints. I understood you, as much as I could, and I let go of the one love I’ve always wanted to hold on to. You didn’t fight for me. So you don’t get to be jealous. Not anymore. It’s not fair to me, or to you, or to the pregnant mate you’ve left at home.” The door was open now, gripped tightly by your aching hand, the tears falling from your faces and onto the ground the only sound to help the torturous silence left behind by your words, so many of them you’ve needed to say, so many of them you wish you never had to. “Go, Neteyam.”

No one teaches you what to do When a good man hurts you And you know you hurt him, too

The night was painful and never ending, the conversation pulsating in your ears like a terrible migraine. Why did he come back? You were doing well. Well enough. Why did he have to come and ruin whatever little joy you had? Why now, the night before the most important trial of your life, why now, so you can question and overanalyse every little interaction you and Tarsem ever had in order to prove him wrong, when all your mind can do is scour for reasons why he was right. Was he right?

He was right, wasn’t he? Why else would he be so kind to a demon? Why else would he train you, and accept you? Nobody ever had, not fully. Nobody ever had…

“Damn you, Neteyam.”

Honey, when I’m above the trees I see it for what it is But now my eyes leak acid rain On the pillow where you used to lay your head

Eventually, sleep did find you. And in it, so did dreams - memories, as they usually did, at your most vulnerable, nothing but your shaky psyche and a desperate desire to relive your happiest times to stand in their way.

“Why did you make Seze land where she did if you’re gonna make me walk so much?”

With a deep sigh, he stopped in his tracks and kneeled, and you smiled knowingly as you jumped on his back, your chin resting on his shoulder.

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“Eh, you’ve always known this about me, Teyam. And you still love me, anyway. What does that say about you, huh?”

“That I can’t resist a pretty face, especially when it’s yours, my Vol.”

Well, that shut you up. Neteyam could always shut you up like this, by saying things you both knew he shouldn’t say, and while you wanted to admonish him, while you wanted to tell him off because this wasn’t helping, this would never help this already convoluted situationship you found yourself in, you couldn’t. Not when your heart was beating out of your chest, not when your blush was so strong it was making you feel like your cheeks caught fire, not when it made you want to scream confessions that have settled in your chest a while ago, that would never see the light of day, as long as you could help it.

He laughed at your silence, and pushed past thick shrubbery to unveil the most beautiful sight you have ever seen.

“Surprise!”

If your heart hadn’t dampened the rest of the world and all its thunderous sounds, you would have noticed the waterfall crashing into the river below, but as it was, the sight laid bare in front of you was, truly, a surprise, and God… what a surprise it was. A sight almost too good to be true, the beauty of it all almost surreal. The cliff was remote and secluded, surrounded by tall colorful plants and hedges - perfect for activities no one should ever be privy to. The backdrop was something out of a fairy tale, down to the fish jumping from the waterfall and straight into the water below, and the rainbow that formed with every blow of the wind. But somehow, even despite every natural advantage that was so graciously displayed almost as if especially for you, still, the thing that made it all feel almost transcendent was just a simple blanket, woven in a pattern you knew was his own, on top of which sat a basket filled to the brim with your favourite fruits and culinary delicacies.

“You know, Teyam…” you chuckle, still taken aback by the gesture, almost chocked up from the love you felt for him, that ran somehow deeper every day. You wondered if there was end to it all, to how much this love will grow, to how much your heart could possibly hold within itself before bursting at the seams. “I was gonna sleep with you anyway, you didn’t need to go to all this trouble.”

You watched as his head swung backwards as he laughed, nuzzling itself in your belly, his braids tickling your thighs with every inadvertent move. A squeal left your body as his much larger arms reached above him and picked you up, manhandling you like a little doll, until you were on the ground, at the foot of the blanket. He said nothing, but bent down until his lips made contact with the top of your head, the romantic and intimate gesture enough to turn your insides gooey and your brain to mush. His voice was saccharine and velvet smooth when he eventually spoke.

“You look so good - so good - wearing my choker. Now take it all off. I want to see you wear nothing else, my Vol.”

After giving you the best I had Tell me what to give after that All you want from me now Is the green light of forgiveness

The morning was dragging and slow. Your mind was scattered and numb, perfectly complementing your burning eyes and heavy heart. You were angry, and sad, hopeless and forlorn, all of the things you shouldn’t be on the brink of your iknimaya. You needed your focus and your wits, both of which felt as far away as the ikran rookery you were on your way to.

“Ma Tawtute!”

You cringe at the nickname you’ve become fond of in time, that you hated right now, and the voice that spoke it. You try to no avail to leave, but you’re trapped when he catches you by the hand, willing you in place.

“Let go of me, Tarsem.”

“What’s gotten into you?”

You huff, rolling your eyes and tugging at your trapped wrist.

“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I can’t help until I know what it is.”

“Why are you nice to me?” you were angry again, almost eager to be proven right, eager to know for a fact what Neteyam told you was true.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I’m asking. Why? Why are you nice to me? Why do you smile at me, and train me… why are you making the People accept us?

Tarsem looked confused and taken aback at your barrage of questions, at your misplaced anger and your sudden skepticism of his actions. You couldn’t blame him.

“Because… you deserve it. Because if there’s one thing I learnt in time, is that good people, good humans, are hard to come by. And you, and the scientists, Spider… all the people who chose to stay behind in the way so many years ago… you’re it. You are good. You are kind, and knowledgeable, and you have devoted your whole life to the Omaticaya and to this planet, without ever asking for anything in return. The least I can do is make sure you live a life worth remembering, that you receive your well-earned place amongst the People.”

You were so content, so at peace, whenever your head was rested on Neteyam’s chest. You were home in his arms, home when your fingers were free to roam his chest, free to draw the constellations his tanhi made up when connected, free when his breath was fanning over your face with each kiss on your forehead.

“I’m so full.”

“Are you, now?”

“Of food, you freak.”

“Mm, I’m not doing my job well enough then. Guess I just need to try harder.”

You laugh, happiness enveloping like a shroud. You were scared of it, of your next question, but you knew you needed to know.

“Why did you bring me here, Neteyam?”

A shrug. Seemingly nonchalant, but there was purple in his cheeks, a flutter in his heart, loud and booming against your ear.

“It was the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, and it reminded me of you. Of us. As soon as I found it, I knew this could be it. Our place.”

“Our place.”

Neteyam’s head throbbed painfully, a nefarious mixture between a hangover and guilt making the world spin and his heart ache. Why? Why did he do that, say that? And before your Iknimaya, too. It was an important day, one of the most important days - important enough to determine the rest of your life within the Omaticaya and he managed to ruin it for you.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Norm.

“You look like you need this.” Whatever Norm handed him looked like it had already been eaten and thrown up before making its way into his hands, but he accepted it anyway. Norm knew best, and whatever it was, probably was going to help.

“It smells disgusting.”

“It is disgusting. But it will help. The hangover, that is. Everything else, I guess that’s what I’m here for.”

“Listen… I heard you, in her room last night. It was muffled enough, but the walls can only muffle screams so much, you know?”

“I fucked up, Norm. So badly. I said… horrible things to her last night. I was drunk, and sad… I was stupid and jea-“ He catches himself before he can finish, but it was too late.

“Jealous. You can say it, it’s ok.”

“I know… about you two. She told me. So you don’t have to hide. Not with me.”

Neteyam’s eyes go wide at Norm’s words, but he was relieved that he knew - that someone knew. Someone he could talk to. Someone to confess to.

“She’s right. About everything, she was right. I abandoned her. Over and over. I let my mum treat her and Spider like they were pariahs, and stood by as my dad did nothing about it for years. I always thought that’s just how it was always going to be, that nothing I could have done would have prevented it, but I look at her life now, and how Tarsem treats her, and I realise I was wrong. And they were wrong. And we failed her. So many years, my whole life… I failed her.”

Norm sighs, both of them looking at you, talking to Max, who would also be taking his Iknimaya today, smiling and motioning at how you were planning on subduing your ikran. You were lively and animated, but your eyes didn’t reflect it, and Neteyam hurt at the blame he bore for it.

“Kid… you did your best. You both did. And you loved her, and stood by her, even in the face of everything that stood against you. You didn’t fail her. The world did. The world failed you both.”

You haven’t met the new me yet And I think she’ll give you that

It went by in a blur; in a mess of worry and distress. It’s like he blinked and here you were, the first one to go, the first one to succeed. He was so proud of you, prouder than he’s ever been about anything in this life. His heart was beaming with happiness and love, his head swirling with all the way he’s imagined this day in his mind and thought it would never come, but here it was. He was living through it, and had to come to terms with the fact it was never going to be quite how he envisioned. But he still had you, and he still had today. And at least some of it, he felt, could be the same. In his dreams, you passed, and you shared the first flight, and he got to see you fully blossom, the way you deserved, the way he always knew you would. In his dreams, your ikran intertwined in flight, and you spent so much time exploring, laughing, yelling, living. In his dreams, both your ikran perched at the top of the Hallelujah mountain, trilling softly would be the only witnesses to your love, to the way he’d make sure to not let you go until the second he absolutely had to, until you were both spent, looking upwards at the unending and star-filled sky. He would never get that, but your first flight - he still could. He could still be it.

“First fly seals the bond, kid. You gotta go, now!”

You couldn’t believe it. You actually did it. All the training, and the fantasies, all the nights you spent as a little kid imagining what it would be like to actually fly on top of one, all the days you spent on Neteyam’s, while he told you about the bond, while you shed tears from the pain that came with knowing you would never experience it… they all led you to this. This one moment. Your ikran was beautiful, just like you always pictured her to be. She was cooing happily and moving slowly towards the edge of the cliff, almost as if heeding Jake’s words, or itching to further your newfound connection.

For one second, you look backwards, at all the people clapping and beaming with excitement, and your eyes, as they always seemed to, immediately drifted to Neteyam. They filled with tears at his pride, at the way his body radiated it, at the way he called his ikran, undoubtedly just as excited as you to share a moment you’ve always envisioned in dreams and reveries, one that seemed like a rare occasion by which your fairytale ideal life could come true. But your life wasn’t a fairytale - it would never be, it couldn’t be. And that dream, you had to leave behind. That dream, just like everything did when it came to him, speaks to a love long gone, an uncertain future, so much helplessness and hopelessness and dread, so much fleeting happiness that dissipated when reality struck. It speaks to the past, a past neither of you related to anymore.

Another second, for your gaze to reach Tarsem. In him, you saw a future. In it, you saw stability and comfort, a love worth harbouring and cherishing. In it, you saw the Omaticaya, and the forest, a destiny that always seemed out of your reach, but which was now closer than ever. In it, you saw kids, running around, calling you mother. You saw the People, reaching for you for help and guidance, a feather jacket and pilgrimages that would decipher Eywa’s will.

In them, you saw yourself. One one hand, your past self, a human, broken and unmoored, born in a planet that didn’t make accommodations for the likes of her. You saw love that ran so deep it formed endless canyons in the pit of your soul, that emptied when the love was so ruthlessly taken away from you. You saw your mother, wicked and disinterested, and your father, evil and dangerous. On the other, you saw a warrior. Na'vi. Omaticaya, through and through. Tough and seasoned, healed and ready to heal. A mother. A mate.

You were neither of those.

There’ll be happiness after you But there was happiness because of you too Both of these things can be true There is happiness in our history

“There’s been talk, you know.”

“Oh?”

“About you.”

“I must be getting pretty good at it, this whole climbing and sneaking thing. I was hanging on an upper branch of a tree back in the village the other day. Managed to somehow catch the end tail of a conversation between a few girls. Didn’t hear me, too busy talking�� about you, the Omaticayan Prince.” You snickered at the title, one of many titles reserved for Neteyam alone. You knew he hated it, all of it - the attention, and the pressure, the sacrifices that came with being worthy of all of them.

“Talking about how hot you are, how much they would kill to be the one you get to get take home at night. Theorising about who could it be. Going on and on about how lucky whoever you will choose as a mate will be, how there’s not a single girl in the village that wouldn’t die to have that honour bestowed upon them.“

Neteyam sighed and shrugged, brushing off the comments for only one of his own. “Only one girl I care about.”

You smiled in his chest, abundantly relieved and terrified all at once. This wasn’t good, this was so dangerous, the way he was playing the strings of your heart like he was a world-renowned harpist… but oh, it felt so necessary right now - the validation, the promise that, at least for a while, you still get to keep him just to yourself.

“She’s a lucky girl. Whoever she is.”

“I’m the lucky one. Because she’s… everything. And I work every day, try my hardest every day, to be worthy of her. And I want to make her a promise. For as long as i can help it, I promise I’ll hold on to her like I’ll ne-“

“Never let her go again.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard and hummed approvingly in return. You hoped he couldn’t feel the tears rolling down his side. You hoped he couldn’t tell that breaking this promise will break you. You hoped he never has to.

“Good.”

“She’ll do the same.”

Across our great divide There is a glorious sunrise Dappled with the flickers of light From the dress I wore at midnight

There was so much spoken between you and Neteyam in just a few moments. There was so much he can see in you, so much struggle in your soul. And eventually, he sees you turn away from him, from all of them, willing your ikran away. He watches as you leave, by yourself, desperately wanting to go after you, realising it’s better if he didn’t. And just like that, a huge chapter of his life, the longest one, the best one, was instantly over and Neteyam knows he just lost you, forever.

You were never his to lose.

Leave it all behind

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iwantjaketosullyme · 1 year

Text

𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝, 𝐢'𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

…but, big spoon, you have so much to do and i have nothing ahead of me.

➺ pairing: jake sully x omatikaya!reader (fluff/angst) ➺ summary: seeing jake was easy, seeing toruk makto not so much. (w/c: 2.8k) ➺ warnings: minor mentions of war & death a/n: inspired by mitski's 'your best american girl' nd dedicated to our fav all-american boy <33 na'vi dictionary at the end !! gif credit goes to @/worldofpandora

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

Seeing Jake was easy.

It was shirking clan chores in favour of being held in the safe cocoon of his capable arms on a lazy afternoon, the two of you splayed out on the forest floor as it welcomed you into its clutch, soft grass embracing you, gentle breeze lulling him to sleep. As he slumbers you trace his features gently, eyes first, then nose.

You coast over the worry line that creases just like that when he senses a formidable threat, like the rogue palulukan that strayed a little too close to camp the previous week (or the persistent Omatikaya child that insists on having you braid his hair exactly when Jake’s sat down for you to rebraid his, meaning a rushed job and less scalp scratches for him).

Cautious fingertips are guided by the smattering of tanhi that litter his face, a map provided by Eywa, tiny stars aligning to lead you to your final destination - your favourite destination – his lips.

Being Seen by Jake was even easier.

- flashback -

Two weeks have passed since the fateful day your people reclaimed your ancestral home from the Sky People. The injured have been treated and deceased loved ones have been mourned and committed to Eywa. Now, the clan must celebrate.

Young ones chase after each other's tails (knowing the mood is good enough for them to escape chastisement from their parents), potential lovers dance around their feelings as they dance around the communal fire and elders thank the Great Mother for the privilege of witnessing another night like this – too many eclipses have passed since the clan could revel in shared joy like this.

The evening’s jubilations wind down as eclipse approaches, but the air is still charged with a sense of collective anticipation; you are yet to do what you do best. Gathered clan members form a blue sea, bioluminescent tanhi a mirror image of the stars in the skies above as they seat themselves on fallen logs.

Deep inhale, shoulders rolled back, head held high and gaze cast over young and old alike, you open your mouth and sing. Entranced, Jake looks up from where he was refilling his cup of pongu pongu (after falling victim to a particularly wily adolescent Na’vi bartering for the drink reserved for adults of the clan) and his amber gaze settles on you as he listens to the legend of a valiant Omatikaya warrior made song. His legend.

His song rolls off your tongue, volume ebbing and flowing like the waters of the Eastern Sea, reaching ‘ahhs’ and throaty ‘oohs’ conveying the highs and lows of his Pandoran alterlife. Sweeping peaks and troughs in the notes you belt out paint the picture in his mind of the mountains climbed and valleys traversed on his quest to find his humanity in a Na’vi body. Dulcet tones undulate from the soft pillows of your lips into the attentive ears of every clan member gathered around the fire, demanding the rapt attention of all that can and will listen.

Your voice betrays you, wavering slightly when you make sudden eye contact with Jake. He gawks at you unashamedly, his expression reminding you of the awe and excitement of a child watching kenten unfurl their luminous fans for the first time. Inwardly, you curse the power that this vrrtep has over you; you never get distracted! No doubt Ninat would be teasing you about this mishap til Eywa calls you home. That skxawng always liked to argue that she’s the better vocalist.

Final note lingering in the air and resonating in the hearts of those around you, you graciously accept the compliments offered. Soon after, you make a swift break for your marui, unaware of your newly acquired shadow following after your hurried steps as if still woefully caught in the spell your voice had cast upon him.

You flit about the marui, humming under your breath as you search for the herb and nectar concoction Tsahik gave you after overhearing you complaining to Neytiri about putting your vocal cords under too much pressure. An appreciative hum leaves your parted lips as the mixture soothes your throat, before a male, gravelly and obnoxious “Ah, shit!” cuts through your minute of peace, followed by the clang of a pot falling.

A stunned squeak escapes you before you have the chance to stop it, eyes widening as your ears fold back and your brow muscles raise in shock before furrowing in confusion. A moment passes.

You slowly crane your neck to look behind you, chancing a glance at whatever, whoever it is that managed to sneak into your marui and elicit such an embarrassing reaction from you. The fallen pot is still rattling on the floor as you lock eyes with the perpetrator and your upper lip raises into a sneer. Of course, you think to yourself, as if the vrrtep has not bothered me enough tonight he has come back for more!

“Oel ngati kameie,” Jake greets awkwardly, eyes shifting between your defensive posture and the offensive pot that he had tripped over in his dazed stupor. He brings his fingertips to his forehead before extending them towards you in a gesture of respect, and for a moment you are pulled from your derisive train of thoughts as your eyes follow the raised veins on his hands and you feel an unfamiliar feeling flutter in the pit of your stomach – much like the kindling of a new flame. Your examination of his anatomy comes to an abrupt stop when your eyes hone in on his outstretched fingers. Four fingers. Alien fingers.

“What is it that you want?” You throw the words at him, eyeing him up and down in an admittedly pathetic attempt to intimidate him. You are well aware of his prowess as a warrior; you’d only spent the latter part of the evening waxing poetic about it. Despite this, you cannot help but feel as if you must prove yourself to be a formidable threat to him, to this man who was once a tawtute imposter in a Na’vi body and has now made himself an imposter in your home.

He inches towards you cautiously, arms outstretched by his sides and palms open, intending to communicate his lack of malintention as he clears his throat and opens his mouth to answer you. Your eyes remain vigilant, ears pointing up, alert and awaiting his response. A series of unintelligible noises is all you hear, his mouth opening and closing in such a stupid way that you almost find it endearing. Almost.

Further incensed by the lack of answer, you jerk your head towards him, tail lashing behind you, impatient, “What is it then? Speak!” You begin to pace in front of him, agitated and expectant of an explanation. “Or do you only know how to stare?”

As if jolted back to reality, Jake blinks blankly before retorting “Damn, you sound just as good when you talk, pretty girl”. Astounded, your pacing comes to a halt, allowing you to baulk at his insolence – there is a notable pause as you compose yourself once more. His lips pull back into a self-satisfied smirk as he greedily absorbs your reaction, and there is a dangerous glint in his eyes, eyes too small to belong to a native Na’vi, that calls to you. You decline the call decisively.

“You still have not answered my question, Jakesully,” you attempt to regain control of this odd interaction, remaining firm in your affronted demeanour. “Speak!”

He lets out a huff of laughter under his breath, made bashful by the reminder of his inexplicable attraction towards you. “Well…I guess I heard ya singin’ out there and I-” he shakes his head, looks down and brushes a hand over his face, lips puckering to blow a gentle whoosh of air as he exhales. You feel his breath waft over your face and refuse to register the way it stokes the flame within you.

“I knew I gotta tell ya that you sound amazing, heavenly, even, unlike anything I’ve ever hea-” his reverent rambling is cut short by your cackle that pierces his ears that had perked up in delight while he sang your praises. He looks up to observe you doubling over in sarcastic laughter and waits, confused as ever, for you to explain yourself.

“Skxawng,” you rebuke, “do not insult my intelligence by suggesting you understood a single word other than your name. Neytiri has told me of your incompetence,” you lower your voice and let the venom seep into your tone, “Jakesully.”

He meets your narrowed eyes with a challenge in his stare, his right eyebrow, yet another tawtute feature, quirking up. “You’re wrong y’know,” he tilts his head to the right and nods as if still contemplating your rude interjection. In spite of his shock, he does not appear deterred in any way and for a moment you fear that your attempt at resistance is futile. Perhaps you have grossly underestimated his proficiency at your native language and have embarrassed yourself.

He continues, “I understood you calling me a skxawng just now.” A cheeky smile creeps onto his face as he basks in his ability to rile you up. “But I figure that might as well be my name with how many times Neytiri’s called me that”.

Insistent on finding a fault in his words, you give him an incredulous look and respond, “Now you dare to criticise the tsakarem?” A disbelieving scoff leaves your lips. “Impertinence!” Your words, however, do not have their desired effect as he remains unbothered by your jabs, seeing through them completely.

“C’mon pretty girl,” Jake tries to reason with you, “y’know that’s not what I meant.” Encouraged by the involuntary huff of defeat that leaves your body that has grown weary from the night’s activities and this back and forth that is honestly fraying your nerves, Jake perseveres with the determination of the Marine that he is. “Now stop deflecting ‘nd take the compliment.” You relent, albeit reluctantly. “Call me crazy but the way you sang out there…it felt like I knew exactly what you were sayin’, even with my thick Jarhead skull.”

He takes a breath before more words tumble out of his mouth. “I know you were singin’ about me. I never thought I would mean enough to the Omatikaya people for someone to write a song about me.” He surprises you by laughing self-deprecatingly – in the short time you have interacted with him you have become used to his natural bravado. “I never thought I would be enough for anyone to write a song about me.”

Jake wants to tell you more. He yearns to speak of the cosmic force, the pull he felt towards you the moment he heard your voice for the first time. The pull he feels tugging at his heartstrings now, plucking away at them, composing a tune to accompany the siren song of your voice. For a moment he thinks he might just really believe this Eywa shit now.

But he doesn’t tell you. For once in his life he holds back. Instead, he moves even closer to you, every inch of his eight foot figure towering over you as he encroaches on your personal space. Your eyes widen, pupils dilating as you take him in. All of him.

Spurred on by your favourable change in expression, Jake reaches forward to place a warm hand on the snug of your neck. His other hand’s forefinger and thumb frame your dazed face as he caresses your cheek with a reverential tenderness you would have never attributed to him. He shifts his grip down to your chin and tilts your face upwards, so that eye meets eye.

As your steely resolve weakens into something soft, something pliable, you are rendered boneless against your own will, putty in his hands – carbon fiber-reinforced bones be damned. He is held captive by the unexpected, soft trill of your laughter, spirited away by the light breeze that has entered like the melody of a windchime. Eyes of molten gold bore into your soul and he sees you. He Sees you.

- end of flashback -

Seeing Toruk Makto, however, was anything but easy.

You smile to yourself as you recount how you and Jake met, but are quickly sobered by the realisation that no other clan member would even fathom speaking to Jake so disrespectfully – speaking to Toruk Makto so disrespectfully. And so you are forced to confront the reason why you could not stand the man, even if he ensured your clan’s survival by bringing an end to The Great Sorrow.

You fiddle with the purple tassels of your breast covering, made up of the fallen strands of a tawtsngal plant that you had painstakingly braided to be in likeness to the whispering tendrils of the Utraya Mokri. The Tree of Voices.

To the ignorant tawtute that threatened to populate your beloved Eywa’eveng like pests it was simply one of the many flux vortex hubs that rendered their alien inventions useless, stripping them of their ill-perceived superiority and reminding them that they do not belong here. But to you, it was an awe-inspiring wonder that was the source of many a song composed by you and crooned into the ear of a fussy baby, sung to soothe an ill elder or belted out to relay the ballad of a beloved fallen warrior.

With the stories whispered in your ears by the ancestors, you weave the tapestry of the clan in song form. It is for this reason that Jake had taken to affectionately calling you ‘parrot’, explaining to you that they were birds that once lived on Earth and repeated what was said by others.

Your garment was not only of totemic value, symbolising your role in the clan as an esteemed singer, but was also a love letter to the sacred place that birthed your passion for the art of song - and in doing so established your roots in the intricate network of the clan.

If only you had known of what was to come, you lament. That a day would come when the very roots of the tree that planted you firmly within the clan would be so easily uprooted by the wretched Sky People and their demon machines. On that day, you felt as if your place in the clan was uprooted with it; you had lost your communication channel with the ancestors, and therefore your muse.

You sit up and detach Jake’s arm, limp with sleep, from your waist. As you look upon his face you try to reconcile all the affection he has extended to you with the fact that he once was a Sky Person, working for their destructive cause.

Before you can stop it, the familiar feeling of resentment stirs within your belly as you question why the Great Mother would choose to allow your life’s joy to be so mercilessly taken from you and yet bestow the revered title of Toruk Makto on such a man as Jake.

How could she turn her back on you? Strip your pride from you? Replace you with a man born not of Na’vi, but of the immoral tawtute? You cannot help but feel that Jake is more Omatikaya than you ever will be now, as you think of what you long to be.

His mate.

Mate to Toruk Makto, rider of last shadow, yet unworthy to stand with him, even in his shadow. The honour of being under this dark, ominous, yet protective shroud was reserved for a select few - the chosen ones. Proven warriors who have sacrificed their lives, their existence on this terrestrial plane for Toruk Makto, like Tsu’tey, or dutiful daughters who have overcome prejudices born from murder for Toruk Makto, like Neytiri. Not for glorified parrots. Not for you.

You heave a gentle sigh, banishing those thoughts with a soft shake of your head and rest your head back on Jake’s shoulder. Tense shoulders loosen as you shuffle back into the warm comfort of his body. Your finger begins tracing again, up, up, up his arm before a tentative hand opens up to grasp one of his larger ones.

Curious eyes explore the network of veins that branch out along his hand like the roots of a tree, like the roots of the Utraya Mokri. You feel the heat rush to your cheeks as you reminisce the first time you had been in such proximity to the veins on his hand and the feelings they aroused in you back then.

Perhaps, you muse, you could find solace in him the same way you once did in your sacred trees. You lean in, pursed lips relaxing to place a tender kiss on each of Jake's fingers, all four of them. The same fingers that once instilled a deep rage within you. The same fingers that held you with a love that can only be Eywa-given. The same fingers used to tame the mighty Toruk. A part of you, no matter how distant or small, knows that in these capable hands you can rest easy.

So yes, your struggle to See Toruk Makto may yet prevail, but Jake? Jake you would always See. It is with this conclusion that your hold on his arm slackens, and half-lidded eyes flutter close. You slot yourself into the space within his body that is made for you. Two bodies mould into one. Little spoon into big spoon.

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

na’vi dictionary

palulukan - thanator // tanhi - na’vi bioluminescent freckles // pongu pongu - na’vi alcoholic beverage // kenten - fan lizards // marui - tent // oel ngati kameie - I see you // skxawng - idiot // tsakarem - tsahik-in-training // tawtsngal - purple pandoran flower // tawtute - sky person, sky people // eywa’eveng - na’vi word for pandora

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