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foreverdolly · 1 month

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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 2 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

word count: 4.5k

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Legs tangled in gray sheets. The lightning-quick flash of a silver dagger, held by a pale hand.

The images in the dream are more like fragments- impossible to discern and decipher. On the bed, asleep and vulnerable. . .

There’s you.

And then Feyd wakes up, heart hammering in his chest so hard he can feel it in his throat. Slowly his fingers crawl up, up, up the expanse of the bed in search of something. In search of warmth, of you. Nothing. He’s just as alone in his room as he was when he drifted off into sleep. He lays awake the rest of the night, tossing and turning with worry.

This dream felt more like a warning than just another disjointed nightmare. It felt real. He was used to having dreams every now and again which clearly depicted a future outcome. He saw you in his dreams quite often, more so once he was no longer a boy-child.

If someone thought to hurt you… he’d just have to hurt them first.

The customs you and your people practiced were completely different to those that were normal on Geidi Prime. You watched one of your ladies-in-waiting as she brought over another small bowl of sweet smelling bath salts, dumping it in and using her hand to properly dissolve them. For a moment you felt self conscious, running your fingers through your hair as you looked at their perfect complexions and shaved heads. What did they see when they looked at you? Someone beautiful and strange. . . or an alien?

Still, you would eventually have to disrobe and bathe. Pressing your luck and refusing their help would only solidify your place as an outsider. You were sure that whispers of your arrival were already spreading like wildfire, and it was almost guaranteed that no one was happy about it. An Atreides amongst Harkonnen’s? You were nothing more than a pariah on their industrial wasteland of a planet.

The air was even more acrid in your lungs than it had been the night before, and while the smell of the rose body oils and salts were thick and hazy in your room, you could still catch the scent of pollution. Already you missed the cool, crisp air of Caladan. You missed your horses, your parents and your brother to the point of pain. This was not where you belonged. Not here in Geidi Prime. Not here with Feyd-Rautha.

The urge to cry yourself hoarse was practically undeniable, and yet you somehow managed to resist. You were late to breakfast already, and surely the Baron was making some unsavory comments about your family and their taught “manners”. So you untied the front of your nightdress and shimmied out of it, letting the soft cotton pool at the ground beneath your feet. The women couldn’t help but gawk at the tiny imperfections they saw there- a beauty mark you’d had since you were a child, a scar you’d received while training with Gurney. You weren’t used to feeling so self conscious, and so you were quick to grab one of the women’s extended hands so that you could sit down in the murky bath water.

They rubbed floral smelling soaps into your hair and on your skin, making sure to handle you as though you were as fragile as porcelain. You wished they would scrub you raw. Even then they wouldn’t be able to cleanse you of your fears. You were in the hands of the Harkonnen’s now.

No one could save you.

“We are not very used to styling hair, my lady. It might not be to your liking.” One of the women said anxiously. The way that her hands shook as she gripped the hairbrush was not lost on you.

How cruelly were they treated here? Or even worse- what did she think of the Atreides family? What lies had they poisoned these people’s impressionable minds with? You didn’t care to dwell too much on such thoughts. Reaching out you gently removed the brush from her hands, flashing her the kindest smile you could muster before shaking your head.

“Leave this to me then. Why don’t you pick something for me to wear from my things?” Your bags were still packed, lying exactly where a few servants had laid them last night. You had denied every offer to have them unpacked for you.

Denial. You refused to believe that you were actually stuck here. This would never be your home. It couldn’t be.

“He’s not here,” Feyd was sitting at a long, slate-gray table by himself. The food on his plate had barely been touched, but he had busied himself with chopping the meat up into miniscule pieces, too small to even fit on the prongs of his fork. “If you were planning on trying to make a good impression, you can forget about it. He always has his food sent to his quarters.”

You thanked the two ladies that had shown you through the colorless halls under your breath, moving to sit on the other side of the table. At least eight chairs separated you from the Na-baron and it still wasn’t enough. You wished you were on an entirely different planet, lightyears away from the Harkonnen scum.

The room was practically empty aside from the large dining room table. No art decorated the walls or rugs to cover the floor. It was all cold, black marble with white accents.

“I don’t care, actually.” And you were being truthful. You didn’t care about getting on the Baron’s good side any more than you cared about getting on Feyd’s.

He smiled then, staring at you long and hard before licking one of his black painted canines. He was amused by the blase way you brushed off his uncle so easily. Indifference wasn’t something he was used to, especially not when everyone in the galaxy had tried so hard to get on their good sides. People tended to tread lightly as far as the Harkonnens were concerned. They were as wealthy as they were cunning.

“Be careful, little Atreides. Saying things like that might get you hurt around here.” His gruff voice was but a whisper now, and suddenly you felt as though there weren’t twelve feet of dead-air separating the two of you.

You had picked up your fork, ready to eat whatever bland food had been prepared for you, but froze at his words. Heat rose to your cheeks and you were quick to lean back in the ornate high-backed chair, the cool iron seeping into your back through your clothes.

“Do you mean to threaten me?” Your words were icy, tongue sharp and ready to give him a proper lashing.

“It’s not a threat, darling.” He was practically purring, reveling in the joy of referring to you whilst using a pet name. It suddenly looked as though a switch had been turned on, his eyes narrowing on you. “I know him far better than you do. He’s killed people for far less. Be careful.” There seemed to be something he wasn’t telling you. There was genuine warning in his tone.

A pause.

“Please.” And then he went back to eating.

So were you supposed to act gutted at his uncle’s absence? You picked up the fork and took a bite of whatever had been put on your plate. It wasn’t at all what you were used to. Even the food tasted. . . fake. The meat tasted like it had been pumped full of chemicals and was mealy in your mouth, like sand. Still, you swallowed despite your distaste and shoved the plate away from you.

“Who have you assigned to be my sparring partner? I’m sure that my father made your uncle aware that I train daily, correct?” If you didn’t physically exert yourself and blow off some steam then you were bound to get no sleep tonight.

Last night you had tossed and turned, unable to stay asleep when your body was constantly alerting you to possible dangers. Even now you were on high alert, eyes locked on the knife that sat on the right side of Feyd’s plate. Your own fingers danced towards yours it you watched. Waited. Worried.

“Training?” He tilted his head again, eyes narrowed in disbelief. You could almost see the cogs turning as he mulled over your words. “What good would training do you now? If there are any threats then I am here to protect you- that’s my duty as your husband.”

Ah, yes. Why would a woman train when she could just sit back and play the part of a perfect little wife instead? You could spit.

“Would you rather I just hunt down one of your servants and kill him for sport?” You hated that he was so good at getting a reaction out of you. Maybe you were acting too much like a brat, but you wanted to see him squirm. Seeing him mad must be better than seeing him. . . like this.

For a second he sat there, arms perched nonchalantly over the armrests of his chair, staring at you with a crooked smile. You jumped in surprise when a chuckle escaped him, the act itself so out of place, so surprising that all you could do was stare in horror. The chuckles soon morphed into frenzied laughter, and he was quick to lean back in his seat so that he could place a hand on his chest.

“Was that funny to you?” You spoke through gritted teeth.

He watched the muscle in your jaw clench and unclench with wild eyes, sucking in a deep breath in the hopes of calming himself. Still, to hear such a beautiful woman speak such hideous words. . . it was wonderful, bordering on perverted.

“If you do kill a servant, please make sure I’m there to watch.”

He was too busy watching your face to notice the knife that you slid into the sleeve of your dress. With a huff you stood up, your skirts dryly brushing along the ground as you started to make your way out of the large room.

“I require a trainer.” You tried to mimic your mother’s tone, straightening your shoulders as you turned to look at him.

Lady Jessica always had a way of commanding a room. She was powerful, your mother. You needed to channel that same power now.

“You’ll train with me then,” He stood up from the table, the height and build of him alone nearly causing you to take a step back. You’d forgotten how large he was. How formidable. “Consider it a wedding gift.”

This had you balking, mouth opening and closing as you tried to think of some way to refuse. He was already stalking past you though, ignoring whatever retorts you were bound to make.

“I recommend getting changed. . . Unless you want me to tear that dress to shreds.”

That awful, ugly, no good-

“Bastard!” You whispered under your breath, wadding up your dress just to angrily toss it onto your bed.

You sank to your knees, braiding your fingers into your hair so that you could give it a few good yanks. He was doing this to fuck with your head. All of this was calculated on his part, it had to be. Was it all just to get a rise out of you? Or did he truly want to try and hurt you? You couldn’t figure him out, and that boiled your blood. All Harkonnens were cunning, blood thirsty schemers. You wouldn’t put it past him to be unhappy with the marriage arrangement, choosing to resort to violence in order to end things.

‘Now. Now is the time to strike.’

You’d already hidden the blade under the mattress of the bed. The Baron wouldn’t allow you to live if you killed his precious nephew, but you’d much rather put up some sort of a fight than be put down like a dog. After taking a few steadying breaths you somehow managed to pull on your trousers and shirt, your mind plagued with dangerous, dangerous thoughts. If the moment called for it you were certain that you could not kill Feyd in hand to hand combat. His skills with a blade was well known across the galaxy, and while you were more than able to defend yourself, you weren’t delusional enough to think that you could manage to beat him without using underhanded tactics.

You’d have to wait until his guard was lowered.

“Do all women take this long to get ready?”

You hadn’t heard the door open, nor his footsteps approaching. Who knew how long he had been watching you. The intrusion was an unwelcome one. You looked up to glare at him, trying hard not to balk at his appearance. The clothes he wore were skin tight, a black material that caught the dim lighting- like it was made of pitch black oil. His pants were tucked into big black boots, laced up high on his calf.

He stretched his arms up, leaning against the doorframe so that he could continue his awkward staring.

He did a lot of that it would seem. Any time you turned your head to face him you found that he was already looking in your direction. It was odd. . . off putting to say the least. Of course you couldn’t know that he was currently tracing the lines of your face with his eyes, committing every detail to memory. You were so different when he compared you to the females that he was used to seeing. You were all soft lines, long lashes and doe eyes. He found it impossible not to look at you. Gorgeous… you were gorgeous.

“It took me a while to get out of my dress on my own.”You shoved your way past him in the doorway, his chest warm under your palms.

You were quick to jerk away, startled by the fact that this was the first time that you’d touched him since the two of you had reunited.

You didn’t hate the feel of him, but you should have.

“Then you should have asked for some help.” He said, reaching out to grab you by the back of your shirt when you started to walk off in the wrong direction.

Feyd pulled you along like he would a pet on a leash through the triangular halls, ignoring your mumbled curses as you tried swatting him away.

The shield vibrated in your ears as you switched on the button, enveloping you in its warmth.

You used to find it uncomfortable as a child, the tight, foreign warmth triggering a mild case of claustrophobia. You were used to it now, wearing it like a second skin. You waited for Feyd to turn his on as well, the blade clutched tight in your palm.

You waited. And waited. And waited.

“Where’s your shield?” You asked him, motioning towards his hip with your free hand.

There it was, that crooked smile again. He was laughing at you. Was he trying to infer that you were weak? Was he so confident in his skills that he didn’t even see you as a threat?

“I don’t see the nee-” He didn’t get very far.

You kicked your leg out, catching the back of his right knee. His legs buckled, and he was quick to adjust himself, his left arm flying up to catch your wrist before you could sink the blade home. For a split second the two of you just stared at each other. Mild shock in his eyes, your own alight with an anger so consuming that you feared you might be burnt up with it. He gave your arm a sharp tug, hard enough that the joint rolled uncomfortably in its socket.

You kicked your leg out before he could throw you over his shoulder, landing a sharp blow to his ribs. You heard him let out a pained moan before you hit the ground. Using your weight to your advantage, you tucked your body in, rolling to the side so that you could easily stand up to your knees, blade poised at your side and ready for an attack.

“You fight well, Atreides.” Feyd purred, spinning his blade between two fingers before letting it fall back into his pale palm.

“Turn on your shield.” You growled, rising to your full height so that you could begin circling him, a panther ready to pounce.

“Was it Duke Leto that trained you?” Still, he was ignoring your statement.

“No.”

“No, of course it wasn’t him,” He took a step closer to you, eyeing you down. No one had looked at you like that before. . . and it made your skin crawl. You didn’t want to be desired by this man, the thought alone was miserable enough to have bile rising in your throat. “Your father is too weak-spirited to ever train you himself, lest he accidentally harm you.”

Your heart was beginning to pound in your ears now, vision tunneling. All you could see was Feyd. All you could imagine was the blade that you were currently white-knuckling sunk hilt deep into his chest.

“How horrible it must be for Caladan to have a Duke so. . . spineless.”

You bared your teeth, and for a second you were sure that you would snap the hilt in half with how hard you were gripping your blade. You demanded blood for such an insult. How dare he. How dare he.

“I should cut out your tongue!” You screamed, pointed the blade at him.

‘Don’t come any closer’ you urged with your eyes, feeling the angry tears causing your vision to fog. A Harkonnen was insulting your father. He was insulting your family and now he was smiling at you. The bastard had the gall to smile and this time all of his teeth were showing. Wide, unabashed in his joy. He was terrifying. So much so that you felt your legs begin to shake underneath you.

“But you’ll want to put this tongue to good use eventually.” His gravelly voice purred.

“Silence!” And before you could even control yourself you were using the Voice.

You might not be as talented as your brother when it came to hand to hand combat, but your mother had taken the time to teach you well. Feyd’s mouth snapped shut so hard that you heard his teeth clatter together.

“One more word and I will gut you.” Your voice shook and before you could rethink your actions you were lunging forward, the blade cutting through the air. . .

Aimed at his throat.

He was quick to push your arm away with his forearm, and even with the shield up you could feel the bone shattering pressure he put behind the movement. He was stronger than Paul- stronger than even Gurney. He took advantage of the fact that you were put off balance and grabbed a fist full of hair, the shield around you flashing red as he pressed his blade as close as he could to the base of your throat. Your scalp exploded in pain, eyes watering as he gripped harder to yank your head back so that you were staring directly into his eyes. They held no malice towards you, even despite the fact that you were obviously trying to maim him.

And then he leaned in closer. And closer.

“If I didn’t know any better then I would think that you were actually trying to kill me.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. You could practically feel the warmth of his lips against your skin as he spoke, your heart roaring in your ribcage. With your chests practically touching like this you could smell him.

You’d only caught the scent of spice once in your life- and it was akin to bitter cinnamon. There was something else though, something more complex to it. Aromatic spices you couldn’t quite put your fingers on and. . . the natural musk of his skin.

“So you can speak again?” You managed to tease him through your pain, wincing as he brought you even closer against his chest. The blade that you clutched in your hand was now pressing against his side, the pointed edge digging into his skin.

He didn’t wince, even when you put more pressure against it.

“You think it wise to use the Voice on me in my own home, little girl?” He hissed as he pulled away from your ear, and the fire that was in your eyes was now mirrored in his own.

Slowly you moved the blade away from him, the metallic clanging echoing around the room as you let it fall to the floor. Your palm hurt from the vice-like grip you had been holding it in.

“Release me now.” You didn’t shy away from staring into his eyes, unwavering even when he pressed the blade even tighter, the shield vibrating louder and louder around you.

He leaned in, even when your hands moved to press against his chest, willing him to give you space. You could barely breathe with him this close to you. His own knife clattered to the ground, and using his free hand he ripped the shield from off of your hip. The gasp that escaped your lips was uncontrollable. You could feel his breath on your lips as his eyes continued to swallow you up whole.

They looked even bluer when you were up close like this, framed by long black lashes. For a split second you wondered what had become of that beautiful little boy you had met. Had Baron Vladmir beaten the beauty out of him? Or perhaps it had never truly been there to begin with.

When Feyd looked at you, up close like this, all he saw was the object of his ever-present affections. Something yawned to life in his chest- the need to protect. All at once he felt wrong, disgusting and horrible for causing you any sort of pain.

But you looked so lovely with those tears in your eyes. So much so that he gave your hair another small yank, a shuddered breath escaping his lips as you yelped in pain. He saw the hate in your eyes and he detested it.

‘Fear me’ he silently urged. ‘Love me, do as I say and I will become your slave.’

His lips brushed against yours, achingly slow- painfully soft.

“I yield.” You were quick to say, pulling as far back as you could even with the grip he had on your hair.

Fire. Your scalp felt like it was on fire.

And then he released you, taking a step back with a heaving chest. The spell now broken, it felt like the world around you suddenly resumed its orbit. Wordlessly he pressed a hand to his side- the side that you had pressed the knife- and when he pulled it away you could see that it was stained with blood.

“Didn’t you say that you were going to gut me?” There was no hint of humor in his voice now.

“I wanted to.” You conceded.

“Then you should have tried harder.”

Again you lay in bed awake, unable to fall asleep. You told yourself that it was just homesickness that had you clinging to the blankets, but you knew better. What had happened today left you rattled and confused.

There were a hundred times today that Feyd could have killed you. Everything that Gurney had ever taught you had disappeared like smoke in the wind the second that your father was mentioned. You had acted on instinct alone.

And if it was an actual fight to the death then you would have lost. Miserably.

There was something strange about it though. It never once felt like an actual training session. He taught you nothing and gave you no feedback. Not only that but. . . it never felt like he actually wanted to damage your pride. He didn’t turn on his shield before and after taunting you, almost as though he actually wanted one of your attacks to land.

He had allowed you to get everything out of your system. You hated that it had worked. It wasn’t helping you to sleep tonight though. No, you had other things on your mind now.

Like the fact that he had almost kissed you.

Your knowledge was limited where men were concerned, but you were nearly positive that there was something sexual about the way that he had treated you. It was like he didn’t want to actually hurt you, but still went out of his way to touch you.

You’d be sure to ask for someone that might be willing to train you again tomorrow over breakfast. Someone who wasn’t Feyd, preferably. Lunch and dinner had been spent in silence on your part tonight. He had tried to strike up conversation a few times, even baiting you in ways that might warrant annoyance and anger. You didn’t budge. Why? Because you hated how nervous you felt in his presence now.

Was it because you were afraid of him? That had to be it. Hearing about his proficiency in fighting and seeing it first hand were two different things. He had practically swung you around like a ragdoll. It was absolutely humiliating.

Yes, that had to be it. . . well, you hoped.

“Atreides.”

The sound of your name had you bolting up into a sitting position, willing your eyes to adjust to the non-existent lighting in the room. The sound of footsteps had your heart jumping up into your throat, adrenaline flooding your system once you realized that it wasn’t a voice that you recognized.

No one had entered the room since you’d gotten back from dinner, which meant. . .

Whoever this was had been hiding, waiting until you completely lowered your guard. You were in danger. Horrible, horrible danger.

‘Be careful. Please.’ You remembered Feyd’s words from earlier.

He had been trying to warn you.

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ೃ࿔ savage bonds taglist:

@elf-punk @shitfuckeryclownverse @mydarlingelvis @heartarianagran @ohdearmaggie @chalametism @killingboredom @obsessedvibee @avidreader73 @softboo @tedcruzumakii @luminnara @narniansmagic @torchbearerkyle @ziggy-stardust-world @tian-monique @adoxra @zz-snow-zz @tiredsleepyhead @icontrolthespice @itsparksjoyhuh @verveta345 @shegatsby @zae5 @ertepla @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @lotus-888 @meetmeatyourworst @moonchild-artemisdaughter @abswifey @flower-frog @auroranodyssey @forgedfromthestars @moony-artemis @juliskopf @moonsoulk @serrendiipty @atrxidxs @the-ruler-of-death @mintoblobo @just-pure-trash @randominterwebthings @springholland @so-dramatic1 @ashy-kit @aslutforscarletwitch99 @sofia-013 @gamorxa @ricecakeslove @alexandrainlove @selfishlittlebeing @ceres27

the wonderful line “fear me, love me. do as i say and i will become your slave” is from the movie “the labyrinth”!

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #dune part 2 #dune #austin butler #austin butler x reader #smut #dune smut #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune x you #dune fanfiction #feyd rautha fic #austin butler fic

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pandoraslxna · 1 year

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Lost and found — Chapter 4

adult Neteyam x female human scientist

Words: 6.2k

Summary: Neteyam hates humans. One day, he finds you all alone and lost in the forest, but quickly decides against killing you. What might be the odd reason for that?

Warnings: explicit smut, neteyam‘s pov, queue play (hehe), Neteyam whimpers, praise kink, heavy size kink, alien biology, slight language barrier, p in v, belly bulge, creampie, hair-pulling, fluff <3

Notes: check my masterlist for all chapters

To say that his parents weren’t happy about the human that Neteyam bought home was an understatement.

Especially his mother was outright furious by the sight of the little demon, her smaller frame hiding behind her oldest son, seeking protection from her glaring gaze. His father, on the other hand, was very familiar with the story of a human and a Na’vi choosing each other as mates. Of course he wasn't thrilled when he found out that his son had simply chosen to make this decision for the little human, claiming her as his mate when she biologically wasn’t even able to do the same. Technically, he could’ve at least asked her out first, he said. But what was done now couldn’t be reversed. She might’ve not willingly accepted to become his mate at first, but Neteyam had chosen her and fulfilled his claim. (Multiple times by now, but obviously he didn’t tell his parents that.)

What mattered was, that they were mated now. And she willingly agreed to stay.

She got familiar with his clan, with high camp and his siblings pretty quickly. And even though she was hesitant at first, the little human even allowed him to take her on a ride on his ikran at some point, helping her explore places of the forest she had never seen before. It made his chest swell with pride, watching her eyes widen in awe at the sight of all the different flora and fauna he introduced her to.

Neteyam learned quickly, that she was a curious thing by nature. A little shy at first, but once she got comfortable, he jokingly debated putting her on a leash so she wouldn’t just wander off and get lost or hurt whenever he turned his back on her.

At least teaching his human mate the language of his people was easier than Neteyam originally thought. Which was a relief for the both of them, considering they would have to understand each other without Jake, Lo‘ak or any of the humans of high camp around to translate for them.

The forest was quiet today, save for the sound of a few Syaksyuk swinging from tree to tree, ruffling through the leaves where some rays of the sun shined through, warming Neteyams skin where they touched him. It wasn’t the same place they had met each other just a while ago, but similar enough that it bought back pleasant memories. The faint sound of an ikrans call made him aware that it was still there, circling above the trees, patiently waiting for his rider to return. But that wouldn’t be anytime soon.

"Zekwa", his human mate says, rolling her tongue in an attempt to pronounce the foreign word correctly. Finger. But Neteyam shakes his head with a sigh, "No, it’s Zekwä. Try it again, but slower."

"Zek…wä", she tries again and this time he nods, encouraging her to keep trying, "Zekwä, like this?"

One of the reasons she was so quick to understand and eager to learn, was probably the method of reward he had chosen to apply whenever she did something right.

"Good girl", Neteyam smiled, placing a soft kiss to one of her tender fingers. Then he moved higher, to the palm of her hand, kissing her there. "And this?"

"Tsyokx", she responds with a smile that rises her cheeks. Hand.

"What about this?" Neteyam leaned over to be closer to her. Holding her smaller face in his rather big palms, he gently tilted her head to gain better access to the space right below her jawline. Then, his tongue darts out to lick a small stripe along her pulse point and he feels her shiver underneath his touch. "That’s… Nikre", she says. Throat. And Neteyam doesn’t miss the way her voice slightly trembled. He takes a second or two before he moves, just staying close to her and inhaling her scent.

"Hmh", he hums, placing a kiss to her skin, where it was wet from his salvia now, "You’re getting better at this, little one."

While he rests his forehead against her throat, one of his hands comes to lay on her thigh, gently squeezing the soft flesh there. His hand was big enough to almost fully close around her small leg, her size difference making him utterly aware of her fragility whenever he touched her. Handling her with care had become his number one priority over the past few weeks and he had to learn how to gauge his own strength, in order not to break her.

"What’s this called?", he whispers, feeling her swallow around the lump in her throat.

"T-Taeng", she exhales softly to which Neteyam straightens his back and sits up to properly look at her. Of course, her cheeks had turned red. "It’s Ta'leng", he corrects her with a chuckle. Thigh. "Stay focused."

As he moves to sit back on his heels, some of his braids sway over his shoulder, the colorful beads in his hairs clicking together and he catches the way her eyes follow their movements.

Neteyam knew she liked them. He had braided a few strands of her hair himself and they were now decorated with a purplish-blue feather behind her ear and a few beads that were very similar to the ones in his hair. He had made them just for her.

Neteyam had caught her trying to recreate some of the hairstyles she had seen on his people, just a few days ago, but they never turned out how she preferred. He had to admit, she was an adorable little thing when she got frustrated, but he gladly offered to help her.

He just loved how much she cherished her braided hair and all the neat little accessories decorating them ever since.

Now she was staring at his hair again, but something told him that this time, it wasn’t his hairstyle or the pretty beads in his braids that caught her attention. Neteyam could only assume what it was.

"Neteyam?", she calls for him. The way his name rolls off of her tongue, like warm honey, makes goosebumps appear on his skin. It was the first word she had learned to pronounce in Na’vi and he wished it would’ve taken her a while longer to learn, just so he could hear her say it over and over again. He just knew he would never get tired of her saying his name.

Her short fingers point to the thick braid laying over his shoulder, the one that was longer than the rest of his hair. "What’s the Na’vi word for…this?" Neteyams gaze followed the direct of her finger, to see what she was pointing at. Reaching for his painstakingly braided tswin, he held it up for her to see.

"This? It’s my kuru", he explains with a soft smile, "or tswin."

"Oh I think I know that one", the human exclaims happily, "it’s called neural queue in my language!" Instinctively, her hands reach out to touch it and even though he’s a little taken aback by her curiosity, Neteyam let’s her. A pleasant chill runs down his back as she gently feels the braid up and down in awe, seemingly impressed with how tidily his hair was braided. Her hands glide over his hair, starting from the base of his skull, until she reaches the end of it. Turning it from side to side in her hand, the soft hair at the end of his braid part and reveal something that must’ve seem very alien to her, going by the way her eyes widened slightly.

She was looking at the little, pink tendrils, how they moved completely unwillingly and her small mouth opens like she intended to say something, but no words seem to come out. He knew that this wasn’t her first time seeing them. She had seen them before, just briefly when he had bonded with his ikran, but now he realized she must’ve never seen them up close before. And knowing that the humans anatomy did not possess anything similar to his, he doesn’t feel offended by her curiosity. She would have to learn more about his kind one way or another, he thought. And at least he could be the one to teach her.

Inhaling a shaky breathe to calm himself, he continues to let her explore. But curious as his little human mate was, exploring with her eyes only, seemingly wasn’t enough after just a short while. With wide eyes he watches as her other hand moves, inching closer to touch the tendrils and every hair on his body rises by the sheer sight of it.

Neteyam swallows thickly and watching her curiosity get the better of her, his first impulse is to take his tswin from her hand. Despite all of what they had shared together so far, this was still such an intimate part of his body and it felt… strange, to let her touch and explore him there.

But again, he lets her. She was his mate after all. And if she would’ve been even partly Na’vi, they would’ve already made tsaheylu with one another. The thought alone had his tail standing upright, curling and lashing in the air restlessly. He couldn’t deny that his body was yearning for this type of intimacy, the only one he couldn’t share with her.

Neteyam suddenly sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, when she was just mere inches from touching him there. Immediately, her eyes shot up to look at him. It was just for a brief second, yet her eye contact was so intense, as if she was wordlessly asking for permission to continue. And even though it was almost unbearable for him, Neteyam once again decides to let it happen.

Her hand comes closer and closer, slow and steady, and it made his heart race and a warm feeling arose in his stomach. Still, he couldn’t tear his eyes away, until the pinkish tendrils wrapped themselves around one of her delicate fingers.

Neteyams whole body tensed at this and he squeezed his eyes shut as a shiver ran through him, his breathing increasing at the unfamiliar feeling.

"Th-This is tsaheylu", Neteyam murmured while he was trying his best to stay composed, "It’s the… the sacred bond between all of Eywa’s children. It allows us to mentally connect and share information. When you are bonded, you gain access to each other's physical senses. Pain, happiness, fear… ple-pleasure."

Her curious gaze flicked from his tswin, to his eyes and then back, as he spoke. Meanwhile her fingers continued to play with the extensions of his nervous system. Neteyam had to lean back on his palms to put some distance between her and himself, taking deep breathes to sort his own thoughts. She probably had no idea what she was even doing to him, he thought, trying his absolute most to keep all these noises down that arose from deep in his chest.

"But we", he exhales shakily, "we don’t bond like this. We bond by connecting them."

"Oh", she exclaimed quietly at that and he catches the way she looks down on her hands. Her eyebrows rise as if she had a sudden thought, before she asks him worriedly, "am I hurting you?"

Neteyam hesitates, but then shakes his head. What he was feeling in this moment was hard to describe. No, it didn’t hurt. But it also couldn’t be compared to the actual feeling of bonding with one another, it was more like a tingling sensation in his brain. Like getting tickled with a feather, with muscles twitching on their own, having no control over the way his body reacts to the sensation. It felt foreign, maybe a little weird too, but at the same time, it felt strangely pleasant. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before.

The idea of touching his own tswin like this had somehow never occurred him. It wasn’t like someone had specifically told him not to, it just wasn’t something that ever crossed his mind.

Watching and feeling the way the thin tendrils of his kuru moved into the embrace of her soft hands felt like someone was pouring warm syrup straight into his brain. Neteyam could feel how his pupils dilated further with every passing second, until they were almost fully black. The whole time, their focus was entirely on his mate. A low, breathy sound, like a whimper, escaped him as the unfamiliar feeling continued to spread through his whole body, the more she played with him like this.

Once again, he was dumbfounded at the things that this human was capable of. Not only was she able to sent him into his rut, when her biology was so different from his, but she also made him feel things he had never felt before. Things that he was sure no other Na‘vi could make him feel. How did she even know what to do and how to touch him to get him to react like this?

Neteyams breathing wasn’t just heavy, he was almost panting now. Letting his head fall back, he squeezed his eyes shut again to try and calm himself, but the heat that’s been spreading in his core slowly becomes hotter and hotter, until it’s almost unbearable for him to ignore. He doesn’t even realize how little whimpers and moans begin to fall from his parted lips freely, too busy to keep his focus on the strange feeling that could be mistaken as pleasure, entirely created by the humans hands playing with the tendrils of his kuru.

But maybe that’s what it was, what he was feeling. Pleasure.

Neteyam shifts a little as he feels something stir, right there under his loincloth, and he knows if he would look down, he would find himself hard and aching. Surely, this wasn’t supposed to make him feel like that, he thought. But it did.

Swallowing hard, he forces himself to open his eyes again, only to be greeted by a sight that just adds further to the tightness in his loincloth.

Her plump lips are parted, coated in a thin layer of salvia as if she had wet them with her tongue barely a minute ago. Her cheeks are flushed in deep red, eyes half lidded and heavy with lust and for a split second, Neteyams eyebrows furrow in confusion.

Was she… enjoying this?

It was like a switch had been flipped when her eyes suddenly met his. To his surprise, she unexpectedly lets go of his tswin in order to jump up to her feet. While he continued to watch her with great curiosity, she moved to stand directly over him. Even when he was sitting, leaning back on his palms like that, her navel only reached up to his chin and he was tempted to lean in and kiss her right there.

But the question, what she was even intending to do, already laid on his tongue. He quickly swallowed it down though, when she began to undress right in front of his eyes. The human fiddled with her clothes, discarding them quickly, which made her need become obvious to his eyes. She was, in fact, enjoying this.

During all the time they had spend together so far, he had never seen his little human so desperate before. And if so, it was usually him who would make the first move. It was him who would bend her in any position he favored, him who had to make her admit how needy she was, him who had to coax these pretty sounds out of her, because she was too shy and too flustered to act on her own. But not today, though, that was was for sure. Today she was acting different.

Her feather like weight settled on top of him, snapping him out of his thoughts when she straddled his waist. But Neteyam stays unmoving. He lets her act on her own this time, wanting to see what his sweet mate was carving for so much. Almost comically impatiently, her hands reached between their bodies. She scoots back just a little to make room to pull his loincloth to the side, just enough to let his cock spring free. It slaps against her lower stomach with a soft thud and Neteyams lips curve into a smug grin at the sound of her little gasp of surprise to find him this hard already.

His grin drops pretty quickly, as soon as she grabs him, her small hand not even close to closing around his shaft completely and a guttural groan leaves his lips. When her feather light touch becomes more firm and she begins to stroke him, Neteyam arches into her hand like she’s the only source of relief in the world. The contact of her warm skin on his own makes him twitch in her hand. There was no way he would be able to keep his cool when his mate was touching him like this, hovering above him, flushed and beautiful and so needy, she was ready to take what she wanted all on her own. Eywa, he prayed, give him the strength to not take a fucking bite out of her.

But Neteyam was getting impatient. Whatever she had done earlier to rile him up this much, in combination with the way she was sitting on him now– it bought him on the verge of his self restrain. His chest was heaving, sharp canines barred as he restrains every single urge to switch her position, pin her down and claim her like he’s done so many times by now. But no matter how impatient he was, he had to prepare her for his size first.

Mating with her, with a human, meant he had to take his time and get her ready to take him, fully take him, without inflicting any pain on her.

Usually, she knew that too. This time, however, it seemed like she was willing to take the pain that the stretch of his length and girth bought her, if it meant she could fill her entire being with him and not have to wait another second.

Not giving him much time to realize her intentions, the small human lifts her hips and lines his hard cock up with her entrance. Both of her hands find leverage on his shoulders, squeezing the taut flesh there, as she got into position. With a sharp hiss coming from him, his little mate begins to lower herself, letting him stretch her tight hole inch by inch.

"Oh great mother", Neteyam groans through gritted teeth, feeling her warmth embrace his cock as she sinks down on him, "Easy, go slow."

But his words fall on deaf ears, because the next thing he feels, is the suffocating tightness as she forces more of him inside her too quick. She whimpers and clenches around him, yet the little human tries everything in her might to get those last few inches of him inside.

Neteyams hands immediately grab her by her hips, his four fingers digging into the pillow-like flesh as he holds her firm so she’s unable to move any further.

"S-Stop that", he hisses and throws a pointed look at her, almost glaring as he clenches and unclenches his jaw, "You will hurt yourself, if you don’t slow down."

He would lie if he said he wasn’t as desperate as she was. In fact, Neteyam was fighting against his own body to rut up to take and take— take what’s his. Yet he wanted to let her do this, let her take on her own terms. But the reasonable and still rational thinking part of his brain told him that, even if she so desperately wanted to get stuffed like this, he had to be the one to remind her that she’s not supposed to hurt herself in the process.

A small pout formed on her lips at his words, but her face quickly turned into that of determination. He couldn’t deny the fact that he was amused by her strange antics today. But then he felt her shift, lifting herself off of him until only the very tip of his cock was still resting inside her. Neteyam, naïve as he was, allowed her this, loosening the grip around her hips.

It’s him who then throws his head back with a loud groan, every muscles of his body tensing, because suddenly, and too fast for him to react in time, she slams herself down, her tight hole swallowing all of his length to the base.

"Fu-ck", Neteyam chokes out, once she sits on him properly, her full body weight and gravity pulling her down further than he thought was even possible. This position allowed him a new depth that neither of them had ever experienced before. He feels the head of his cock nestled against her cervix, pressed right against the opening to her womb and it makes him physically shudder.

"Are you trying to kill me, little one?", he grunts and when his eyes finally regain their focus, he sees the way his little mate pants heavily, sweat beading on the frame of her mask and her pupils blown, probably just as much as his own.

For a split second he’s worried for her well-being, that she could’ve hurt herself with that stupid stunt she just pulled. If that was actually the case, she must’ve been pretty good at hiding it, because her facial expression was nothing that came close to the ones you’d see if someone was in pain. It was the complete opposite of that.

The little human shakes her head as if she had lost her voice, breath still coming out shallowly. His eyes are glued to her, waiting for her to do whatever she wanted with his body.

It belonged to her by now.

"I– I want…", she whimpers and her face flushes an even deeper shade of red, her breathing almost fogging the inside of her mask. The soft, velvety walls of her cunt squeeze around him at her words and Neteyams eyes almost cross at that.

"What do you want, hm?", he coos, "Just take it. Take what you want, it’s all yours."

It takes her foggy brain a moment to translate his words, but he’s patient with her, like he always is. Instead of a verbal response, she decides to let her body do all the talking for her. Starting with a pace that he least expected now, moving her hips hard and fast— lifting herself up and down on Neteyams cock and spilling moans that he feels deep to his core. His cock almost slips out each time, before she is slamming her whole body back down, turning herself into a moaning, whimpering mess.

Below her, Neteyam groans and his toes curl at the feeling of her tight heat swallowing him over and over again. He had leaned himself back on his palms to enjoy the full view of her, his mouth slightly agape as he watched her breasts bounce with every thrust. She was providing the perfect view of herself, moving how she pleased without a care for anything else.

Neteyam wanted to jerk up into her so badly. He wanted to slam into her, relishing in the way that his hip bones would leave marks from how hard he would thrust into his mate.

Once again, Neteyam realized just how tiny she was compared to him. His eyes had wandered down on her soft curves, stopping at the bulge on her lower belly that was more visible in certain positions. One of his hands comes to caress the swell, where his cock was nestled deep inside her. It was always a miracle that she was even physically able to take all of him. "Feel me inside you, sweet little human? I‘m so deep, all the way up here. See?", he grunts with a breathy chuckle, "You’re taking me so well, always doing so good for me."

Her cheeks burned with the praise, even though she only understood half of the words that were spoken to her yet. Still, it didn’t stop her from responding, "m‘feeling s-so good, haa- fuck, fuck, yes! Oh my– god, feels so good!"

With the way she plunged his cock into her pussy over and over again, deeper with every thrust, he was certain that it must feel like he was already in her stomach. She was moaning like that was the case, at least. The sounds she knocked out of his throat were a mixture of groans, grunts and sometimes even noises that sounded like whimpers, whenever his dick knocked on her cervix like an iron hammer.

"Neteyam, ahh– f-fuck, Neteyam", she moans and the sound of his name makes his cock throb inside her, "I‘m close, oh god I‘m gonna come!"

He knows these words by now, even if they’re spoken in the sky peoples tongue. It meant that she was nearing her sweet release.

Nodding, Neteyam then grabs her hips and when her breath hitches, she stays down against his pelvis, rotating her hips in circles and switching the direction randomly. Neteyam helps her grind herself against him, feeling her cunt pulse around him, her clit dragging against his skin before she slumped forward against his chest and her whole body went rigid. She gasped and moaned into his ear, her arms encircling his neck and holding him tight, while her legs twitched wildly on his sides.

"There you go, such a good girl", he coos softly, whispering the words of affirmation in her ear as she releases more slickness around his cock, "That’s it, come for me, let it all out. You’ve done so good, my pretty little mate."

She’s shuddering in his arms, broken sobs and whimpers leaving her parted lips and echoing under her exopack mask. Neteyam allows her a moment to breathe and collect herself, come down from the high of her orgasm in the warm embrace of his arms.

She still clings to him, even as he plants his feet firm on the ground. He keeps her flush with his chest, even as he spreads the soft cheeks of her ass with his big hands and then slowly thrusts up into her. She mewls and twitches, her body still sensitive from her previous orgasm, but Neteyam declares her as ready and capable enough to continue. It‘ll be quick anyways, with how hard and aching his cock was by now, throbbing inside her, so painfully desperate to finally reach his own release.

"Hmm, still so wet", Neteyam hums as he feels rich droplets of her arousal roll down his shaft and down on his balls, "You have another one in you, don’t you? Will you come for me again?"

The little human only sighs when his cock drives into her again, seemingly enjoying the feeling of being so full of him. Putting just a little more force behind his next thrust, she moans louder and Neteyam chuckles, "I want to come with you, so you have to hold it until I‘m ready, okay? Can you do that?"

Her first orgasm had already drained her to the point that she felt completely limp in his arms, her body covered in sweat that was sticking to him, mixing with his own, fusing them together as one. Her limbs still twitched with the aftershocks of her climax as he thrusted up and into her again, slowly picking up his pace to find a steady rhythm. Neteyam squeezed a handful of her ass cheeks, the supple flesh bouncing with the force of his pounding and she moaned so sweetly into his ear, completely ignoring his request.

"Hey, are you even listening?", he chuckled softly, sounding like the complete opposite of what he was doing to her.

"Hmm?", she hummed but it sounded more like a whine, muffled against the crook of his neck. Of course she didn’t listen. Well, even if she was, Neteyam realized he was probably asking too much of her again. It was already hard to communicate with her when she had the full brain capacity and focus to do so, but trying to get her to listen, translate the words and actually respond to him when she was this fucked out— impossible.

So he repeats the word that he can translate in her language. "Together", he whispers lowly in her ear and Neteyam could practically feel how the little hairs on the base of her nape raised at this. Her sweet pussy clenched and squeezed his cock so tightly, it caused him to groan from deep in his chest. Oh she definitely understood him this time.

His hips then snapped against hers and she tightened the hold of her arms around his neck for purchase.

She moans and whimpers foreign words in her alien tongue, like it’s been punched out of her by the sheer force of his thrusts. It's all garbled and sewn together, like vines weaving through the forest. Neteyam drinks it up, drinks up the begging and the pleases, the way she looks so blissfully fucked out and helpless in his arms while he forces her up and down on his cock.

Her inner walls cling tightly to his shaft, squeezing him, flexing around his warm, intruding length, coaxing him deep inside with each thrust.

Behind his back, he feels her arms shift around as if she was reaching for something and soon enough, he figures out what that something is. There’s a tug, just a gentle pull on the base of his nape, but it’s enough to make his hips stutter for a second.

"Wh–haa fuck, what are you doing?", he chuckles, albeit a little breathlessly, while the sound of skin slapping against skin still echoes through the forest. There’s no response, obviously, but Neteyam could already assume what she’s plotting.

Again, there’s a tug. This time, she had pulled just a little harder on his kuru and he couldn’t help but let a deep, wanton moan slip past his lips. The grip he had on her tightened to the point he was sure his fingers would leave bruises on her perfect skin.

So this is what it was about.

"You want to come, huh?", Neteyam asked her, even though he knew his question would remain unanswered, "Are you trying to get me to finish because you can’t– ca-haa— oh eywa, fuck!"

He’s interrupted by a feeling similar to electricity shooting through his body, tingling every nerve in his system and causing him to choke on his words.

Behind his back, he feels her hands move and yet again, a lightning of pleasure seers through his whole body. Neteyam just knew that if he would’ve turned his head to look back, he would’ve found her playing with the tendrils of his kuru just like she did earlier.

"S‘too much", he then hears the human whimper, "need to come so bad, please Neteyam I‘m- I can’t hold it!"

She’s a little more than a trembling, incoherent mess by now, the walls of your pussy bearing down around him as he plunges his cock into her. The squelching sounds of her arousal mixed with his pre-cum filled his ears, growing louder by the second. It was only overturned my sound of blood rushing to his head as she was pulling and fumbling with his kuru, her fingers dancing over the sensitive tendrils once again.

"Hmh that- that’s it", he groans, mouths it against her throat, "keep going. Yeah, just like that. Fuck, I’m close too."

The humans back arches as she suddenly begins to mover her hips again. She tries, tries so hard to fuck herself on his cock even though she’s completely exhausted and her legs must feel like jelly by now, yet it’s enough to drive him over the edge.

"teyaaam", she whimpers his name, or half of his name, and it’s the cutest yet most erotic sound his ears have ever heard before.

Her hands leave his kuru in order to grab onto whatever she could reach to steady herself, her dull nails scraping over his back, while he tightens his own hold on her. Neteyams arms encircle her middle completely now, pulling her close as he bucks his hips up and into her, until he’s not even thrusting anymore, it’s just grinding against each other.

Neteyam feels her insides pulsate, as if she was milking him for all his worth. Her legs tremble and every limb on her body tenses as she comes, clinging to him like her life depended on it. But he does too, squeezing her smaller frame and holding her as close as physically possible as he emptied his pleasure into her, filling her with his cum until he felt it leak out of her, leaving a sticky mess between their bodies.

For a moment, Neteyam feels nothing but the warmth of her body, the heat emerging from the little humans soft skin morphing into his own. He feels her chest expand, her lungs filling themselves with air, chest heaving from exhaustion. He also feels how she snuggles against him, a content hum leaving her lips that make his tail curl around her ankle as if trying to hold her even closer. Feeling his cock soften inside her makes her shudder and Neteyam can’t help but chuckle at this.

"Good lesson today", he snickers in the sky people’s language. Hearing his Na‘vi accent makes her giggle softly, which causes heat to rush to his cheeks.

Neteyam enjoys the comfortable silence that then falls over them, so he rests his chin on top of her head and closes his eyes for a while, just listening to the sound of her breathing and the familiar noises of the forest. But then the little human abruptly sits up, straightening her back to look at her mate. Immediately, Neteyams eyes are wide open again, the little hair on his tail raising in alert as she wordlessly scanned his face.

"It’s my turn to teach you a word", she tells him then and despite the fact that she was still entirely bare and sitting on top of him, her voice sounded small and shy. Neteyam felt a little startled at first, but his ears twitched inquisitively, ultimately giving away his inner thoughts.

"Hmh, is that so?", he hums, finally having found his voice again, "Okay then, teach me."

Her cheeks turn into a pretty shade of pink as he nods, giving her the affirmation to do as she pleases. Whatever it was that she wanted to teach him, he would listen.

To his horror, the little human then inhales a deep, sharp breath, her chest visibly expanding as air fills her lungs and then she hooks a finger under her exopack mask— but before he could even lift as much as a finger and bring her to an halt, she had already lifted the mask above her face, with a cute little grin plastered on her face as she held her breath.

Neteyam could only watch in complete shock, utterly dumbfounded. But then she surges forward, suddenly confident, and her lips find his. They move against each other, her arms wrapped around his neck, chests pressed together as tightly as possible and Neteyam never wants to leave, never wants this to end. He moves his hand from her hip, reaches up to hold her face as she kisses him and he kisses her. She’s so warm. So soft. So sweet.

She called the rumbly sound he made when he was so content a purr, and he loved doing it for her. Loved the smile it brought to her lovely lips, how it sometimes made her giggle when their chests were pressed together almost like this.

The kiss was gentle but searing, slow but all-consuming at the same time. It was good. Addicting even.

Unfortunately, she ends it sooner than he’d like, but Neteyam knew all too well that she had to breathe again at some point. Still, he feels a little disappointed when her kiss-swollen lips leave his own.

By the time she leant back enough to look him in the eyes, her mask pulled back over her flushed face, they were both panting helplessly. But now they stare at each other, a sweet smile across her face and he breathes deeply, soaks up the deep emotion dwelling in his chest. He can’t name it, doesn’t know what she feels, but he wants to feel it again.

"Thats called a kiss in my language", she smiles sheepishly, the sight alone enough to make Neteyam feel warm all over.

"Kiss", he repeats the foreign word, testing the right pronunciation on his tongue. "I’d like to have another", he tells her grinning and she giggles. It’s the most beautiful sound hes ever heard and Neteyam thinks that maybe… maybe humans aren’t so bad at all. Not this one at least. Definitely not his human.

"Okay, since you’re so eager to learn today…", he brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, his gaze lingering on her soft looking lips for a few more seconds, before he meets her curious eyes, "I have something else for you."

"What is it?"

Neteyam looks at her– he really looks at her now, taking in all of her features that seemed so alien to him when they first met, but now they were so familiar, so loved and adored by him. And then, without missing a beat, he tells her,:

"Oel ngati kamaeia."

"And what does that mean?", she tilts her head, nuzzling it further into the palm that’s been holding her face.

"It means I see you, my little mate."

#neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam smut #neteyam sully #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x f!reader #neteyam x female reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfiction #Avatar #Avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar neteyam #neteyam x oc

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mmikmmik · 2 months

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some of the things about dunmeshi that make me so so emotional, in no particular order

Laios killing chimera Falin because even though it would be much cleaner and easier for Marcille to kill her with magic, he doesn’t want Marcille to carry that weight if this is Falin’s final death (incredibly underrated moment)

Chilchuck asking Marcille if she wants to meet his family, even though she’s being Like That, and Marcille immediately perking up

just in general the incredible love and gentleness the party shows towards dungeon lord Marcille and their unwillingness to hurt her and how much she obviously loves and treasures them in return. so powerful.

HIPPOGRIFF SOUP……..

The implication that Laios, on at least some level, wishes to abandon his humanity completely and also wishes he could always be there for Marcille and his other loved ones, and reconciles those two wishes with an impossible fantasy of leaving a “better” version of himself behind that can be with them instead (very underrated)

Laios thinking in one of the bonus chapters(?) about how intense dragon experts get and how it made him feel inadequate and alienated from loving dragons, but when he really thinks about them/interacts with them, he realizes it makes him happy and he really does love them. autistic joy is so real.

when the winged lion asks Falin if she wants to eat more. something something the inseparability of hunger from life. for some reason that single line made tears spring to my eyes. and then she says yes.

Laios in the final scene being so kind to the children and explaining himself to them. he’s so good!!! all you fuckers [other characters] misjudged him!!! you never knew him!!! and now he’s loved and understood and creating a better world!!!

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi manga spoilers

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bonefall · 5 months

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⭕️Hey Bones! Is it ok if you explain and/or elaborate how Crowfeather is abusive to Breezepelt if please?⭕️

I do KNOW that crowfeather is indeed, abusive to Breezepelt, due to the fact that he emotionally and/or physically neglected him - with child neglect being known to BE a form of child abuse - and I also heard that he slashed and/or hit him within one of the books, which I believe is in the book Outcast, in chapter 16.

But I also wish people would talk and be informed about it more within the fandom, because in the parts of the fandom I’ve known portrayed Crowfeather’s neglect on Breezepelt as negative and bad, but not in a way that made me think and/or feel: “Wow, that’s pretty bad. That’s…actually abusive.” I suppose? So I hope more people will talk about it more in that type of way.

Also, please be aware that I have NOT read PoT, OoTS, etc. or barely any warrior cats books, since the majority of the information I got from the series is from the wiki and the fandom, so that probably explains why I didn’t know this part of Crowfeather’s character is as bad as it actually is until now. Also, feel free to talk about Crowfeather’s abuse on Breezepelt I haven’t mentioned and/or don’t know right now as well if you want.

I’m SO sorry that if this ask is unintentionally quite long, and feel free to make sure to take all the time you need to answer it. Thank you!

OH LET'S GOOOO

Breezepelt is both physically and emotionally abused by Crowfeather. I'm not talking about only child neglect; he is screamed at, belittled, and even once hit on-screen.

The fact that Crowfeather both neglected and abused him is very important to the canonical story of Breezepaw. There's actually a lot more to this character than people remember! Even from his first appearances he displays good qualities, a strained relationship with his father and adult clanmates, and is clearly shown to be troubled before we understand why.

As many problems as I have with the direction of Breezepelt's arc (especially Crowfeather's Trial), his setup is legitimately a praiseworthy bit of writing from Po3 which carries over into OotS. To say that Breezepelt was not abused is to completely miss two arcs worth of books SCREAMING it.

BIG POST. Glossary;

INTRO TO BREEZEPELT: The Sight and Dark River

ABUSE: Outcast, Social Alienation, the Tribe Journey.

DARK FOREST: How these factors push him towards radicalization.

For "brevity," I'm not getting into anything post-OotS. I'm just showing that Breezepelt was abused, the narrative wants you to know that he was abused, and that his status as a victim of child abuse is CENTRAL to understanding why he is training in the Dark Forest.

INTRO TO BREEZEPELT: The Sight and Dark River

Our very first introduction to Breeze is when Jaypaw walks off a cliff in the first book of Po3 and is rescued by a WindClan patrol. He's making snarky remarks, and Whitetail and Crowfeather are not happy about it. Whitetail snaps for Crow to teach his son some manners, and Crow growls for Breezepaw to be quiet.

But our proper introduction to him is at his announcement gathering, when Heatherpaw playfully introduces him as a friend,

From the offset something's not entirely right here between Breezepaw and his father. He's cut off by Heatherpaw here, but he's touchy whenever his father is involved, and we're not entirely sure why.

Throughout Book 1, he's just rude, with a notable xenophobic streak. He's a bit of a mean rival character for Lionpaw, as they're both interested in the affections of Heatherpaw and make bids to get her attention, but nothing particularly violent yet.

He participates in the beloved Kitty Olympics and gets buried in liquid dirt with Lionpaw, basically a rite of passage for any arc.

(And Nightcloud has a cute moment where she watches over them until they fall asleep)

As the books progress, the relationship between Crow and Breeze visibly deteriorates. They start from being simply tense with each other in The Sight, to the open shouting and hitting we see in Outcast.

In the very first chapter of Dark River, we learn where his behavioral issues are really coming from;

Crowfeather.

Breezepelt is getting xenophobia from his father. Occasionally he says something bigoted and his dad will agree and chime in, and those are the only positive moments they have together.

(Note: In contrast, Nightcloud explicitly pushes back against xenophobia, chiding Breezepelt for his rudeness to Lionpaw in back in The Sight, Chapter 21. The Sight is the book where a lot of "evidence" that the Evil Overbearing Woman is actually responsible for the rift between father and son but. No. She's not. Though she can be overprotective; Crow and Breeze have a bad relationship when she's not even around in Breeze's first appearance and even his Crowfeather's Trial Epiphany refutes it. Anyway this post isn't about Nightcloud.)

So he starts acting on his bigotry, accusing cats in other Clans of stealing, running really close to the border. What's interesting though, is that this is not entirely his doing. The first time we get physical trouble from Breezepaw, DUSTPELT aggressed it. Breezepaw and Harepaw were just chasing a squirrel and hadn't yet gone over the border at all.

We learn that WindClan is teaching its apprentices how to hunt in woodland, and tensions between the two Clans is starting to escalate as ThunderClan isn't entirely trusting of their intentions.

The second time, fighting breaks out over him and Harepaw actually crossing the border and catching a squirrel. WindClan is adamant that because it came from their land, it's their squirrel. So it's as if Breezepaw is modelling the aggression around him, learning how to behave from the older warriors and his father.

When he joins Heatherpaw and The Three to go find Gorsetail's kits in the tunnels, he's grouchy towards the ThunderClan cats, but very gentle with the kittens. Notably so. When Thistlekit is dangerously cold, he cuddles up next to her, and even assures Swallowkit when she's scared,

Through this entire excursion, he's the one in the comforting roles for the kittens. Breezepaw is the one who is taking time to tell the kits they'll be okay, that he'll protect them, and physically supporting them when they're weak, even when he's terrified.

And it's always contrasted to Heatherpaw who's way more 'disciplined,' as a side note. It's a detail I'm just fond of.

All this to point out,

Breezepelt displays his best qualities when he's away from the older warriors of WindClan, and he's at his worst whenever he's near Crowfeather. Even while he's essentially just a bully character for The Three to deal with. He's gruff but cooperative when it's just him and Heatherpaw interacting with The Three, but mean when there is an adult to please.

We're getting to the on-screen abuse now, but Po3 actually sets up Breezepaw's troubles and dynamics well before it's finally confirmed that he is a victim of child abuse.

ABUSE: Outcast, the Tribe Journey.

In Outcast, Breezepaw's problems have escalated into open aggression towards cats of other Clans, and is now a legitimate concern for his own safety. Yet, he's spoken over by older warriors, and reprimanded at nearly every opportunity, right in front of the warrior of another Clan.

Squilf just asked the poor kid how his training was going, and then Whitetail JUMPS to talk over him so she can complain, RIGHT in front of his face.

They can't even wait until they're alone to grumble something rude about Breezepaw, who is still just a teenager here;

They taught him already that a bit of prey that runs off their own territory still belongs to WindClan, encourage him to blow past borders in pursuit, and started a battle with ThunderClan over this. And then they're pissed off at him for being aggressive, thinking it's deserved to scold him in public.

When Onestar announces that he wants Breezepaw to go on the Tribe Journey, he's devastated by it...

Because he thinks WindClan doesn't like him, and he's right. He's gossiped about, torn into in front of a ThunderClan warrior, and even his own dad doesn't want to be around him. It's clear that Breezepaw's impulsive "codebreaking" behaviors are a desire to prove himself, and once you realize that, the way that he's being alienated is heartbreaking.

But Wait!! Hold on a minute! Where did he get a "patrol of apprentices" from to confront the dogs with, exactly?

Simple. Breezepaw CAN make friends! He actually values them a lot! So much that it's the first thing Crowfeather snaps at him over, out of frustration that his son is also being forced on this journey with him. It's an angry response to his child having emotional and physical needs, resentment that will continue all journey long.

Note that it's plural, friends. Breezepelt has multiple friends, at least one who is not Heatherpaw, and she promises to say goodbye to them.

Up next, they state over and over, Crowfeather and Breezepaw do not like each other. Crowfeather resents being around him and dealing with his rudeness, embarrassed and angry, and Breezepaw is absolutely miserable being sent on a journey to the mountains with a man who hates his guts.

The whole while, Crowfeather is brooding longingly about Feathertail, already thinking about her as soon as he kitty-kisses Nightcloud goodbye, his eyes looking somewhere distant. He makes a jab about loyalty when Breezepaw doesn't understand why they're helping the Tribe.

Breezepaw gets smacked after he's "shoved" at Purdy and acts rude to him, while the other three manage to be polite (while still having internal dialogue about how stinky he is).

Without so much as a, "cut that out," Crowfeather raises his paw and hits him. Breeze is quiet after that.

I don't give a shit how rude your teenager is being. Do not hit kids. Being throttled on the head is not okay.

In spite of the Three not liking Breezepaw, or even Crowfeather, they're constantly noting that their arguments are not normal, and that Crow is a cold, unsupportive father who digs into his kid constantly, and the only time he ever DOES "discipline" his child it's through immediately smacking him.

At one point, the apprentices get hungry, and decide to foolishly hunt in a barn that they know has dogs in it against Purdy's warnings. Once again, JUST like the first two books, Breezepaw is more friendly when Crowfeather is not around.

EVERY time he is alone with cats his own age, he's grumpy but cooperative. Even enthusiastic at times! The minute Crowfeather is in the picture, he's nasty.

Naturally, the dogs show up, but Purdy rescues them. Though Brambleclaw also chews his kids out (and i have strong opinions about bramble's parenting style for another time), Hollypaw is taken aback by the contrast of what a scolding from Brambleclaw looks like vs how Crowfeather reacts.

The narrative is desperately trying to tell you that the way Crowfeather treats his son is not normal.

And then Crowfeather is pissed off that Breezepaw is exhausted from running for his life from hungry dogs,

And he's constantly losing his shit whenever Breezepaw says something as innocuous as "dad im hungry"

Then, Breezepaw is made to watch his dad pine over the grave of a woman who died long before Crowfeather was even considering his mother for a mate. What he feels is jealousy, because he knows his own father doesn't love him anywhere near as much as he loves the memory of Feathertail.

This really goes on and on and on. The ENTIRE trip is like this, with Crowfeather treating Breezepelt poorly, giving him a smack before even verbally warning him, pushing him past his limits and blowing up on him when he asks simple questions about eating or resting.

It all comes to a head in this one exchange, towards the end. Hollypaw ends up snapping at Breezepaw for his rudeness, before having an epiphany.

It's explicit. Crowfeather's emotional abuse, his "scorn" for Breezepelt, is what is driving a wedge between him and all of his older Clanmates. Between EVERYONE in Breezepelt's life who wasn't already his friend. This awful treatment is only making him worse and worse.

Realizing this, she has more sympathy for him, but it's too late. He continues to be rude to her because he feels insulted, and her patience completely runs out. She's just a kid. They're both just kids. She's not responsible for fixing him when he's pushing everyone away at this point.

That's the end of Breezepelt in Outcast. It can't be helped anymore. Any spark of friendship they had together in the barn, or in the tunnels, is gone.

As the series progresses, Crowfeather continues to refuse any personal responsibility for the mistreatment of his son, even pinning all of Breezepelt's behavioral problems on Nightcloud. He is a cold, selfish father who only ever thinks about his own pain and reputation.

DARK FOREST: How these factors push him towards radicalization.

Everyone talks about the Attack on Poppyfrost, which happens in the first book of OotS, in oversimplified terms. YES he is going after a nun and a pregnant woman. I've never said that's not Bad.

But no one talks about "WHY", and that reason is NOT just that he desires power like so many other WC villains. Breezepelt makes his motivation very clear on the page.

Escalating to violence was about making Jayfeather feel the way that he does.

When Breezepelt says that he wants Jay to be surrounded by "lies, hatred, and things that should never have happened," he's talking about the way HE grew up, knowing his father never wanted him, and that his Clan HATES him as a result. Killing Poppyfrost is about trying to frame Jayfeather for her murder, so ThunderClan won't trust him anymore.

When Jayfeather points out the simple truth that what Breezepelt is saying doesn't make any goddamn sense, his hatred "falters." He's blaming his half-clan half-brother for his own treatment because of the reveal, but totally failed to consider that JAYFEATHER'S ALREADY GOING THROUGH IT... so his response is just this pitiful, "s-shut up, man."

Then the ghost of Brokenstar and Breezepelt bounce him back and forth between them like a beach ball for a bit until Honeyfern's spirit shows up.

Breezepelt's childhood abuse and social alienation was a hook that the Dark Forest latched onto, to reel him in. His anger at his half-brother is so obviously misplaced that its absurdity was something Jayfeather pointed out.

We soon learn that it's the Dark Forest who's planting that ridiculous idea in his head;

The narration is SCREAMING, "The Dark Forest is validating the anger he feels towards his father, and redirecting it towards The Three." He's described as 'kitlike,' Tigerstar's eyes are compared to a hypnotizing snake.

This prose could not make it more obvious if it drove to your house, beat you with it, and then spoon fed you the point while you were hospitalized.

At the end of this scene, Tigerstar sends Hawkfrost to recruit Ivypaw. This scene where Breezepelt is being lovebombed, and the command to start grooming Ivypaw, ARE LINKED. That was a choice.

A VERY GOOD choice! Again, as many issues as I have with OotS, its handling of indoctrination is unironically fantastic, and it owes a good amount of that to the outstanding setup of Breezepelt that was done back in Po3. And that setup doesn't work if Crowfeather was merely distant.

Breezepelt was abused by his father, both verbally and physically. It drove him to be more aggressive to prove himself, modeling the battle culture around him. The adults of WindClan judged him based off Crowfeather's responses, shunning and belittling the 'problem' teenager, which eventually drove Breezepelt to the only group that he felt "understood" him.

In a book series that is RIFE with abuse apologia, this is one of the few times that there's any behavioral consequences for abuse and the narrative holds the perpetrator accountable for it.

But people hear Crowfeather's deflective excuse in The Last Hope where he says he never hated him, blames Nightcloud for everything, and just lick it up uncritically.

Gee whiz, I wonder why the guy who never blames himself for any of his problems would suddenly say it was his ex-wife's fault. Real headscratcher!

(Crowfeather's Trial then goes onto, for all my own problems with it, also hold Crow accountable as the reason why Breezepelt turned out like he did. But that's a topic for another day.)

#This is headcanon territory here. But one day I realized I can read Breezy-P with BPD and he became a blorbo.#Never been able to unsee it and it massively endears him to me... Breeze Pelt Disorder...#I actually REALLY hate how his arc was resolved and strongly feel that he should have progressed into a bigger problem #But I equally strongly feel that being redeemed is the ideal ending for him #so if it was between him being pure evil/redemption death or the awful halting we got at the end of oots....#I'd pick the halting over him being pure evil or a redemption death.#I think BB made me REALLY fall in love with him. He's my sweet cheese. My good time boy.#Bones when he sees an angry black cat: ''i can fix you. first i must break you. but then i can fix you''#Like. what i dislike about where he went is that even if your anger issues came from abuse. you STILL are responsible for your actions #but in the end getting that Shitty Dad Approval fixes him. Not his own growth or self-reflection.#it feels like BREEZE gets his agency stripped away for HIS ABUSIVE DAD'S character arc #It retcons in a reason why Breezepelt is not still a problem and then he faded into the background.#while Crowfeather continues to get supporting roles and every now and then Breeze now looks at him fondly #BLECH.#Crowfeather #Breezepelt #Abuse #Child Abuse #Warrior Cats Analysis #And now you know anon!!

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