garfieldsladybird

[garfieldsladybird]

New Life, New Love

🤍 | Pairings: Tsu'tey x fem!sully!reader , jake sully x fem!sister!reader

Summary: When your brother Tommy and twin Elizabeth die, you and Jake are sent to replace them on the mission. You never imagined you would live with The People and learn there ways. And maybe fall in love too.

Warnings: strangers to lovers, violence, cussing, tsu’tey is sweetie to reader, reader is a whimsical girly, (will add more as the series continues on)

Wordcount: 4.8k (currently)

Read time: 11m (currently)

: ̗̀➛ masterlist

Chapters:

01: mip tirengop (new life)

02: munge sätswayon (take flight)

03: 'uo (something)

more to come . . .

Other:

readers clothing

comment to be added to taglist

Inspired by this series by @avatarloverfrfr

[garfieldsladybird]

my heart strings wrapped around this and gripped it tightly and i sobbed. this is beautiful. you’re writing is amazing. when i searched for angst I didn’t realize I would get full angst man

Like the wind in your grasp

Synopsis, Spider wasn’t the first human born on Pandora, but he was the first to grow up on it. You had Neytiri’s heart long before Jake came along, and you’d have both of theirs long after. The problem is, humans weren’t meant for Pandora. Even so, Eywa saw you, and it seems like she accepted you. Maybe that's why, even after being without you for so long, they saw you again.

WC: 10.5k (oh wow)

inspired by @jsooly taken in by the sullys series!

A/N: I wrote this quite literally at 5 am, and it's drastically different from my usual writing style, but I like it! Very bittersweet! and written with the assumption that whoever is reading this knows about Sylwanin and her lore.

You were born to a soldier on Pandora, a Seargant who seemed unbothered by her pregnancy during her term. The RDA wasn’t progressive, not at all, but they weren’t so cruel (at least to their own race) that they’d force a pregnant woman into work. Your mother simply made the decision to keep working, no matter how unsafe it was.

After she gave birth to you, she seemed… inattentive at best. She took maternity leave for the required period of time and got back into the action once she was cleared, leaving you essentially alone. It wasn’t long after her redeployment that she was killed in action along with the rest of her squad. An unfortunate accident in the dangerous wilds of Pandora

So, motherless and unclaimed by a father, you were orphaned. Too young for Cryo, they let you stay. Your mother's room became yours and yours alone. 

Of course, the RDA base was no place for a child. Ill-equipped and non-accommodative. The higher-ups reasoned that you’d best be left to the scientists and doctors. They’d know how to take care of a kid best, right?

Of course, no one really paid much attention to you. Giving the minimum attention necessary to keep you alive, lest they carry the guilt of neglecting an infant to death.

Grace wasn’t sure what to think of you when you were put in her care. She was a scientist, not a babysitter. Her focus was on the Na’vi, their way of life, and the organisms living on Pandora. She didn’t have time to look after a kid.

You were shucked off onto some lower-level scientists and assistants. She didn’t hear much from you other than your crying, which was always met with swift confinement to your room with your current caretaker. 

Eventually, though, you became autonomous. You were quick, slippery, and curious. The ones in charge of you didn’t pay much attention, which led to you sneaking around. Once, finding your way into Grace's lab.

She found you at her desk, standing on her chair in only an ill-fitting t-shirt and diapers, leaning over and staring at the projection of various pictures she had up. 

Grace wasn’t cruel; she may not have wanted to be responsible for you, but she held the same fondness for kids that most did.

Carefully, she picked you up, sitting you in her lap, and asked you what you were doing.

“Pic!” Is all you blurted out, head turned around, and staring at her with your wide and curious eyes. Grace chuckled, nodding as she hummed and affirmed your babbles.

You spent the rest of that day in her hold, watching as she scrolled through the pictures and videos she had in the database, explaining, in the most child-friendly way, the ones you were interested in. 

Being just over a year old, you weren’t still in her lap. Wriggling around, grabbing at her and objects, even standing up in her lap and jumping up and down, which she swiftly stopped. Despite all this, Grace was patient with you. Perhaps it was your curiosity for Pandora that softened her, the fact that you were interested in something she’d devoted her life to researching. 

A new brain to fill, maybe.

So, you made frequent trips to the lab after that. Slipped past your caretakers and crawling into Grace or Max’s laps, whoever was available, and babbling on and on. You weren’t the center of attention or a priority, but you became somewhat of a soft spot for Grace and her fellow scientists. Not as much of a burden, anymore.

It wasn’t long before you started picking up on the Na’vi phrases being used, especially once you discovered the parts of the lab dedicated more towards the avatars and culture of the Na’vi. Grace, ever the enabler of your interest in Pandora, started speaking to you in almost strictly Na’vi.

Being so young, you picked up on it incredibly quickly, nearly at the same speed as English, which you’d only really started learning a month or two prior.

It was cute to them, having a little human baby babbling in Na’vi and focusing so intently on the fauna and flora you saw in catalogs. Some even joked that your bedtime book should be the one Grace wrote. 

They called you the LabRat around the base. A term of endearment, of course. Many knew about you, the loose kid on base who scurried around and spent almost as much time in the lab as the scientists. You were cute. But really, that’s all you were to them, a cute kid. 

But to Grace? Somewhere along the way, she grew more fond of you than she’d expected. She ate with you at breakfast, watching you messily eat out of the corner of her eye as she held conversations with the other scientists. You stuck to her side, only ever really leaving it when you wanted to be with Max or go to sleep. Even then, she often had to carry you to your room multiple times throughout the day when you fell asleep in her lap.

You spent a lot of time with Max, too. Whenever Grace was in her Avatar, which was often, you found yourself with him. He was always a little softer with you, having been more fond and sympathetic with you earlier on. 

He treated you more like a kid than most others. He didn’t really try to feed your curiosity with Pandora, instead focusing on the fact that you were a deprived orphan child. He was the most suited to take care of you, probably. 

At some point, you found your way into the Avatar lab, watching through the windows. No one really saw it coming, but you escaped. With your little mask that was slightly too big for your face, you ran out the door, gunning right for Grace’s Avatar. 

They didn’t really think you’d recognize her, but you did, and you wanted to see her. Of course, you were a little intimidated by her drastic change in appearance and height, but at this point, you knew about the Na’vi and Avatars, so you didn’t have much of a problem.

Grace, in her Avatar form, was perhaps even more loving towards you. Maybe it was the youth of the body, or the fact that she had her own internal favoritism for it, but she seemed happier. Something you picked up on quickly. 

You loved being outside. No longer were you content being cooped up in the lab, you wanted to see the forest! Of course, they weren’t exactly ok with the idea, but your crying eventually convinced them.

Grace decided to take you to the school. She’d made excellent progress with the Omaticaya through the school, maybe it would be good to start introducing some direct human contact… through you. And she figured it could be good for your development, meeting beings that weren’t just inattentive scientists and soldiers.

With your mask on and sporting your cutest clothes, Grace took you to the school. The Na’vi kids were unsure about you at first, with their adverse feelings about Skypeople, but eventually they opened up. 

You were small, so incredibly small. Even the young children had no problems holding and cradling you. You were cute in your own, human, way.

They were intrigued by the fact that your Na’vi was as good as your English. Granted, neither were particularly good, seeing as you were a toddler, but it's the fact that they were at the same level that they admired.

Sylwanin was especially interested in you, often taking you in her arms, cooing and coddling you. 

“Sa’nok, she’s so small!” She’d exclaim to Grace, who’d laugh in response.

“Well, she’s human. You’re probably at least 2 feet taller than my human body, and I’m an adult.” She leaned over Sylwanin, smiling down at the scene. “She’s just a youngin’, not even 2 years old.”

From then on, you were a regular addition to Grace’s school and a personal favorite of Sylwanin and Neytiri. The two sisters absolutely adored you. Cooing over you and your babbles, sitting you in between them or on one of their laps during the lessons.

Often, they’d sit in the back with you, giggling at your tiny body and antics, brushing your hair, or watching as you fiddled with whatever toy or objects you could get your hands on. 

Between your time in the lab and out at the school, you were the first human to be culturally raised Na’vi. It was fascinating to Grace. 

Tsu’tey was cautious of you at first, unsure of how to handle how small and frail you were. But out of everything, you were also incredibly persistent and curious. Somehow, you found yourself worming your way into Tsu’tey’s arms, waddling up to him and demanding he pick you up through body language.

Sylwanin found this utterly adorable, how you’d stand there and “Hmf!” until he reached down and picked you up. He didn’t really know how to hold you, hands tucked under your armpits, torso and legs dangling in the air, but you crawled your way around him, finding yourself sitting on his shoulders. Well, shoulder, to be exact. You could comfortably sit on one, granted it was with one of his hands on your legs to keep your balance while you grabbed onto his braids.

“Tey-Tey” “Wanin” and “Tiri” you called them, not really able to pronounce their full names. They, of course, didn’t care, cooing at the babble of nicknames you gave them. 

In turn, they started to call you “Syulì'ang”, a butterfly-like insect that was known for its characteristic claws that latched it onto whatever it landed on. A fitting nickname, they all thought. 

Their sweet Syulì'ang. Tsu’tey was more or less simply amused by you once he was comfortable. He wasn't as doting as Sylwanin or Neytiri or some of the others; he liked you, but it was more or less than he was entertained by you. 

Of course, that changed the more you stuck around. By the time you’d learned to walk well enough to walk to the school yourself, with Grace accompanying you, of course, he was always waiting by the doorway. He’d give a simple nod to Grace when the pair of you came into view, and he tried to remain stoic as you ran forward, your small body knocking into his tall legs and calling out his name, but Grace, and just about anyone else who really knew him, could see through it. 

You spent your developmental years at the school, growing up so quickly that the Na’vi kids didn’t know what to do. When they first met you, you could barely walk, and all you could really do was babble and string together words, but years passed, and you began holding conversations and moving around fairly fluidly. 

Of course, you were still small and babyish, still just a toddler, but toddlers grew and changed fast. 

You were like their baby sister. Tsmuke, they called you. To them, you were really no different from another Na’vi kid. You spoke fluently, you were young and saw the world in a manner that seemed to reflect their own cultural point of view, perhaps from your exposure to it. 

Grace couldn’t really place when she started to love you. Maybe it was when you first called her “Sa’nok”, copying the kids at the schoolhouse. Maybe it was when that transformed into “Sa’nu”, or when it became “mama” when back in the lab. Maybe it was that day you first caught her attention, having snuck into the lab and into her heart.

She never corrected you when you called her those things, even when she got odd stares from the others around when you did. They just didn’t get it. They were too wrapped up in their own world. And yeah, so was she, but at some point, you became a part of her world. 

She didn’t really think of herself as your parent, but she didn’t mind if you thought of her as one. She wasn’t really the nicest; she was definitely more of a ‘tough love’ kind of parental figure, but that wasn’t really all that bad. 

Pandora wasn’t suited for you. You weren’t supposed to be there, and it wasn’t a good place for you by any means. You weren’t given proper attention or affection, and when you were, it wasn't consistent. Grace and Max, and the Na’vi kids weren’t role model family figures, but they tried, and they loved you, no matter how… odd it was. 

At some point, you’d met Mo’at and Eytukan. Likely, they’d heard of you from their daughters and Tsu’tey. It was hard to tell what they thought of you, after all, they had their own reservations about the humans, only allowing the school to function due to Sylwanin's request. 

But they liked you enough. You were a kid, a toddler, innocent in what was being done to their planet. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of any prejudice they held towards the humans. You spoke the language and learned beside their children. You seemed to love the forest as if it were your own home.

Formally, you met Mo’at when you fell down and scraped yourself while running out of the school, being chased by Sylwanin. You cried, of course, but Sylwanin, as calm as ever, simply scooped you up and told Grace she was taking you to her mother to get fixed up, running off before she could object.

You watched the Tsahik in awe as she worked on you, rubbing a salve on your wounds, her jewelry and beadings clinking together as she did so. You watch her in silence, Sylwanin giggling at your entranced demeanor. At the end, climbing back into Sylwanin’s arms, you turned and told Mo’at she was magnificent. A big word for your age. 

Mo’at had to admit, you were a charming little kid. 

Neytiri was especially charmed by you, often taking you from anyone else's arms to hold you in hers. It became a running joke that she’d adopt and steal you away if she could. She never denied it.

You could always be found fiddling with her hair or necklaces, pulling at them or putting them in your mouth. Neytiri, despite not liking your actions, was patient with you, simply giggling as she pulled it from your grasp and pointed your attention elsewhere.

Some people on base started to voice complaints about you being out too much. Being gifted jewelry and pieces by Sylwanin and Neytiri, and one piece from Tsu’tey, you began dressing in them every day. 

Of course, the complaints went nowhere, being no more than off-hand comments made by people who had no role or responsibility in your upbringing. As loved as you were, you were still overlooked more often than not, just an orphan kid who wandered in and out of the base. Outside of Grace, Max, and a few other scientists, no one really cared.

You had your routine. Getting up, spending time with Max before running out with Grace to the school. The school was your favorite place, you often told Neytiri and Tsu’tey in giddy whispers. You felt free and loved. It was your place.

When Sylwanin stopped showing up, you were sad. You missed her. Really, she was your favorite. 

You didn’t understand why you stopped going to the school, why Grace started arguing with a bunch of the soldiers more often, and why you were no longer allowed outside of the base. You cried a lot, saying you wanted your Tsmuke’s and Tsmukan. You wanted to go to the school, you wanted to see Neytiri and Sylwanin and Tsu’tey and the others. 

You cried when a scientist, tired of your whining, told you they probably didn’t want to see you.

Grace had a hard time comforting you. She didn’t know what to say, struggling with her own grief and guilt in the whole situation. All she could do was hold you and tell you that things were going to be okay. 

It was a while before you stopped crying so much. You still whined about wanting to go outside, but you learned to stop when asked. You spent your nights fiddling with the gifts from Neytiri and Sylwanin, the jewelry they crafted for you, the toy Mo’at gifted you once, and the Ikran Tsu’tey carved for you out of wood. They were your most treasured pieces. 

You worked on your own gifts for them, on and off, through the two years you spent without them. 

You were six by the time Jake came around. You became attached to him very quickly. 

He’d just made it to base and was getting filled in by Norm. His introduction to Grace wasn’t going well, bordered by her hostility towards him being there in place of his brother. Before he could say anything else, you bounded into the room. 

“Sa'nu! sa'nu! 'ur 'upe oe run!” Mama! Mama! Look what I found! You yelled, stopping at her feet and shoving an insect you were cradling in your palm into her face. 

She glanced at the bug and tilted her head, raising a brow at you. “ Y/n, nga kame nga're ke tung wrrpa, ‘itetsyip.” You know you’re not allowed outside, little one.

You pouted, stomping your foot. “Oe ke wrrkä! tsal pamähem ne oe.” I didn't go out! It came to me. You insisted. Grace merely rolled her eyes with a grin as she ruffled your hair. 

Jake looked at Norm, confused, who translated a lazy “she’s showing her a bug.” for him. 

As if you just noticed their presence, you awkwardly glanced at the two, shyly shuffling behind Grace. Jake glanced between you and Grace before leaning in. 

“What’s that you got there?” He asked, smiling as he watched your facial expression change. Before he knew it, you were launched into a whole explanation about the bug. It's name, both scientific and Na’vi, and all the fun little characteristics you noticed and pointed out to him. 

It was easy to tell who you’re favorite was going to be among the newest science recruits. You became quick friends with the ex-Marine, demanding his attention whenever he wasn’t busy. 

You were an interesting little thing. Energetic as all could be, running around like you owned the place, switching between languages so casually as if they were one. Jake paid more attention to you in a week than most of the people on base had in your entire life. 

He’d come by your room, peaking in as you played with your toys or read a book you definitely didn’t actually understand. As soon as you noticed his presence, you’d abandon whatever it was you were doing to run to him, hoisting yourself up into his lap.

“What's up, little bug?” He’d say, smiling down at you as you went on and on about whatever it is you wanted to talk about. Most of it went right over his head, but he listened nonetheless. He got the memo pretty early on that you were essentially left to your own devices, only helped with the bare minimum by people who didn’t want to be responsible for you

So, he started being more attentive towards you. Call it fatherly instincts, he calls it common empathy. You didn’t have any plans or expectations for him, you weren’t disappointed in his presence in place of his brothers, you simply looked up at him with those wide and love-filled eyes. That was all he needed to become hooked. His little bug, he liked to call you.

To Norm, Jake had adapted a fatherly role scarily quickly. Of course, Norm thought you were cute, but he wasn’t really sure what to do with you. It puzzled him how well Jake was with you, for only knowing you for a few days. How you crawled into his lab during one of the briefings, obviously tired but wanting to be involved. 

The briefing was casual, so Jake wrapped his arms around you and cradled you, rocking you in his arms as he hummed a lullaby he’d grown up with on Earth.

It was the first time someone had sung you a lullaby, at least since you were a crying infant everyone was desperate to soothe. You fell asleep in his arms immediately. Grace only gave a passing glance and a chuckle, stating he was now on bedtime duty. 

And that he was. You were a stubborn kid when it came to bedtime, fighting your own sleep and exhaustion because you wanted to be where the attention was. You didn’t want to miss out on any of Grace or Max’s briefings or discoveries, no matter how dull they were, or the fact that they didn’t really happen after hours. Nevertheless, you were difficult to put to sleep. 

He was quickly called the Y/n Whisperer after he calmed you down from a tantrum and had you knocked out in bed within 10 minutes of you being told to go to sleep, an affair that often took at least half an hour and some strong bargaining. 

Jake was still reeling from it all. For him, he was still dealing with the fact that his brother was dead and he’d taken his place on a scientific mission on Pandora, whisked away from his dystopic life on Earth and given a brand new chance. It was dizzying, and now he had a kid attached to his leg. 

Call it what it was: whiplash. He doesn’t really understand why you liked him so much, why he was able to connect with you so well. Maybe it was because he was the first person to spare you a second glance in your entire life, a second glance you didn’t have to work and beg for. 

If given the chance, Jake was sure you two would be absolutely inseparable.

It was during dinner that things shifted. You were there for Jake's recounting of the events that transpired after he got chansed off by a Thanator. Through it all, all you heard was that he’d met Neytiri. 

Neytiri. Your Neytiri.

You missed her. You missed her so bad, and Jake got to see her. It had been two years, and you thought for sure there was no way you’d be able to see her again. But Jake saw her! He even went to the village, so he likely saw Tsu’tey, Mo’at, and Sylwanin! 

Seeing them was possible. That was the conclusion you came to. 

Tsu’tey was the one to find you the next day. You had snuck out, exopack secured on for the first time in nearly two years, and you set off. Your memory was hazy, and you hardly remembered your way through the forest.

Scratch that, you didn’t remember it at all. You got lost almost immediately, your excitement to see your friends slowly replaced with uncertainty and fear. You wandered through the woods, climbing across logs and rivers, becoming more and more sure that you weren’t going the right way…

Of course, you didn’t know what to do. No one could really blame you for how you started crying out, yelling for Neytiri, Tsu’tey, Sylwanin, Grace, whoever you thought could find you. 

It wasn’t until you heard the growl that you regretted your decision to be so loud. Nantang. They surrounded you, stalking and getting ready to pounce. All you could do was scream.

Tsu’tey found you, following the distant yelling for familiar names and then the high-pitched screams. He shot the Nantang, scaring off the others as he rode in on his pa’li. He was ready to shoot you, the human who had trespassed onto their land, but he paused. Arrow resting between his fingers, and breath hitched.

It was you.

He was quick, dismounting his direhorse and scooping you up in his arms, doing his best to soothe you with soft words as you cried and writhed in his hold. Blood was everywhere. He was horrified.

He acted on pure impulse. Jake. Jake probably knew you. He was also human, and he was an avatar- so he probably knew Grace- he had to get you to Jake.

So he rode on his direhorse as fast as he could, holding you tightly in his arms as you bled and bled and cried. Oh, how you cried, clinging to him and whimpering, he felt so helpless. Exactly like how he’d felt that day Sylwanin died in his arms at the school house. He couldn’t have that happen again. Not with you. Not with the small girl he’d grown so fond of. 

It was a blur, finding Jake and Neytiri, the morphing look of terror on their faces as they took in the sight of the girl in his arms and his disjointed explanation. It was a blur, and he was on his knees, Neytiri holding onto him as they both shook, taking in the situation as Jake ran off into the woods with you in his arms, pushing himself as fast as he could go. 

Jake was scared. You were such a sweet girl, and in the days he’d known you, he was hooked. You were small, petulant, stubborn, smart; you were a good kid. You were funny and fun to be around, and he liked you. He saw why Grace had such a soft spot for you, who wouldn’t?

But now you’re in his arms, bleeding, and Grace is gonna be horrified. 

He got you to the base, bursting through the doors, demanding a doctor, yelling you needed help because you were hurt and bleeding. You were small, hurt, bleeding, and it felt like you were at death's door.

You were swept out of his arms, and all you could do was whimper, reaching back out to the strong arms you felt safe in. They hooked you up to machines, tended to your wounds. They assured Jake and a just-arriving-frazzled Grace that you were gonna be fine. 

But the base wasn’t a hospital. Yeah, it was a military base, and those often come with medical centers, but it wasn’t good, especially not for a child. With how advanced they were, they weren’t well equipped.

You suffered for days, writhing and screaming in pain, tears only stopping once you ran out of them. 

Despite Grace and Max’s pleas and Jake's insistence towards Quaritch, you were essentially… ignored.

You were loved. But you were still just a bastard orphaned child; the RDA simply didn’t want to deal with you, especially with your seemingly growing allegiance to the Na’vi.

Of course, they did what they could to help you, but it was minimal. 

You were going to die, Grace and Jake were sure of it.

So, desperate, he went to Mo’at. He pleaded for her to help you. She didn’t need much convincing.

The night before Grace planned to move the operation to the Hallelujah Mountains, they snuck you out, careful to remove all your hook-ups to the machines. 

They took you to the village, breaking so many rules, desperate to help you. 

You were frail, withering away in his hold. The best he could do was whisper comforts as he carried you. 

Mo’at worked quickly, shooing them out of her tent as she worked on you. Salves, mixes, incense. She worked for hours. You were just a little kid; you had so much before you. She pleaded to the Great Mother to help you, even if you were a human she could barely reach. 

You were getting better, but it wasn’t enough. Something was wrong, very wrong, and she didn’t know what it was or how to help.

She pulled away, examining you with a hitched breath. Just as she went to move to grab another tool, something caught her attention. 

An Atokirina.

It floated in the air, pulsing until it wilted down to meet your skin. 

Mo’at’s eyes widened. 

“We must take her to the Tree of Souls.” She declared as she stepped out of her tent, the group that had gathered in front of it standing and moving in confusion.

They wanted to question it. Jake wanted to ask what was wrong, how you were doing, and if you’d live. All the words were on the tip of his tongue, but Grace grabbed his hand. She kept her gaze forward, at the tent, but she’d communicated enough.

Tsu’tey was the one to take you into his arms, lips pursed, and eyes gazing down at you in worry. For a moment, Jake wanted to be the one to hold you, but you curled into Tsu’teys arms so comfortably- so familiar, a moment of comfort and assurance when you were in so much pain.

Neytiri followed close behind, hand resting on your forehead as they walked, her eyes focused on your face scrunched in agony, your pinched brows and wavering lips. How she wanted to soothe you, to hold you, and kiss away the creases of pain in your face. 

You’d grown so much since they’d last seen you. You were still so small, but so much more grown. They had missed you so much, their grief compelled by the loss of two sisters. They nearly begged Mo’at and Eytukan to call off the ban on humans on their land, if only to see you.

And now, you were back in their arms, but by the force of necessity and desperation. Out of the fear of death. 

The clan, having roused at the commotion, made their way to the Tree of Souls with the group. They didn’t question their Tsahik’s care of the human child, many of them having heard the accounts of you and your kindred nature from the many children who’d attended the school.

Arriving at the Tree, Neytiri and Tsu’tey kept Grace and Jake at a distance, allowing Mo’at to prepare as the clan gathered around. They pulled Jake and Grace down to the ground with them, connecting their Kuru to the roots sticking up. They started to hum, moving as a group. 

With everything in them, they begged Eywa to help you.

You were human, yes, but they loved you. You were their sister. You were Grace's daughter, by love if not biology. You were a sweet kid, and they wanted- needed you to stay. 

“Allow this child to heal, Great Mother, allow her to heal and walk among us. To live, to feel your embrace.” Mo’at’s words echoed, her chants and pleas thrumming through the crowd. 

Placed at the base of the spirit tree, you lay there, wrapped in luminescent tendrils. They wrapped around your small body, seemingly consuming you as they grew. The light of the tendrils pulsed with your every breath, echoing across the tree like a ripple in water. 

You… you felt free. The tendrils were warm, encasing you in what felt like a mother's embrace. Your vision was blurred, but you saw.  You saw so much, all you could do was smile. You saw Sylwanin, every time you’d seen her, every word, every movement. She wrapped around you. You saw the sea, you saw the forest and the land. It was breathtaking.

Mo’at faltered, her chants falling off the tip of her tongue as she glanced down at you. At this, the ones who’d brought you here opened their eyes.

They didn’t know what to do. 

You were there, alive. More alive than you’d ever been, but they could feel that you were slipping away. 

Neytiri crawled towards you, Grace scrambling up and finding herself at your side. She took your hand in hers as Neytiri caressed your hair.

They knew it was a desperate attempt, taking you here, unlikely to work, but it hurt. They weren’t ready to let go. The humans weren’t going to help you. What else were they to do? 

Tears slid down Grace’s face as she watched you, your eyes glazed over as a smile crept onto your lips. 

“Y/n- Syulì'ang please-” Neytiri whispered, her voice cracking. She leaned down, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Stay” she begged

“Syulì'ang,” Tsu’tey choked out, pleading, biting back his words, and tears with them. “Be strong, stay with us.”

You heard their words. You wanted to reach up, to comfort them. Grace was right in front of you, and all you wanted was to reach up and wipe the tears off her face. 

Grace cried. Silent, of course. Tears slipping down her cheeks like arrows of fire burning their way through the air. They hurt like it. She wondered if they’d scar, if there would be a trail of scarred flesh down her cheeks when she was done. 

You were her child, at least, the closest she had to one. You were the best thing she’d had in a long time. And now, you were slipping away. Like the school, like Sylwanin, like Neytiri and Tsu’tey and the children who’d called her Sa’nok. You called her Sa’nu.

The grief was endless. A fountain pouring from Neytiri as she wept, hands shaking as she tried to fight the urge to take you into her arms. She’d seen you grow up, your words develop from babbles to sentences, your mind expand. She wore the bracelet you’d made for her. It was ill-fitting and poorly crafted, but she weaved it into her armband, careful to preserve its shape and structure. She meant to always have you with her, even if she couldn't physically. 

You were more than a child she saw as a sister; you could have been her child. A ridiculous notion, but she felt so strongly about you. She wanted to take you in, hold you close, and carry you as she did her chores and duties. She wanted to hunt and bring it home for you to eat till you were full. Perhaps, to her, you were an odd mixture of a sister and child, but that just meant she loved you all the more.

Her sweet Syulì'ang. She’d named you after the insect, a beautiful creature that fluttered around and gripped onto surfaces when it meant to. She wished and wished and wished that you'd stay, that you’d grip onto the ground and stay there with her. She did not like humans, but you? You, she loved.

So it hurt, watching as your eyes closed, feeling your pulse slow, have you die right in front of her, right in her reach. 

Your eyes, heavy, rose up to the sky. “Sa’nu, Tsmuke, Tsmukan, Jake-” Your words were quiet, strained, and heavy. But you spoke anyway, a warmth passing through your body. “Eywa, she’s” It was hard to speak. “She’s like the waves-” your breath released from your lips, cutting off your words.

The tendrils around you pulsed before they dulled, the light dimming across the Tree of Souls.

Jake could only hold Neytiri as she cried, his own tears falling as he felt his entire demeanor freeze.

They left you by the tree, something Grace opposed. But Mo’at had insisted it was Eywa’s wish. Jake and Grace weren’t happy, nor were Tsu’tey and Neytiri; they wanted to give you a proper burial, but they complied with their Tsahik’s declaration.

It was mere days later that Neytiri visited again, only to be met with an empty landscape. You were nowhere in sight, only an abundance of tendrils in your place, pulsing with light as Eywa breathed below them.

Ronal, for weeks, dreamed of a face. A human one. She’d never seen the girl before, unfamiliar with the face and voice she kept meeting in her dreams. It bothered her, being met so forcefully with a demon's face, but behind it, she felt the Great Mother's words. 

She couldn’t make sense of it; it drove her wild how she prayed and prayed, and all she was met with were new visions of the girl. With a newborn baby, she felt stretched thin. She confided in Tonowari about her dreams. He did what he could to comfort her, putting in effort to relieve her of as much stress as he could. 

Ronal prayed, seeking answers and clarity. What did the Great Mother want?

One night, she dreamed of the spirit tree, along with the girl. She dreamt of whispers, of a new face, of a young Metkayina child she held in her arms. 

She woke up in a cold sweat, right as dawn rose in the sky. 

She made her way through the village, mounting her tsurak, and traveled to the cove of the ancestors. She felt a weight in her chest as she arrived. She dove under, swimming through the featherlike branches as she made her way to the center of the tree. 

She reached forward, placing her palms on the branches wrapped tightly in on itself. Slowly, she unwrapped it, pulling it away from the other ‘leaves’ wrapped around. Once she got to the center, she pulled back.

An infant lay in the middle, wrapped in the leaves. Slowly, she pulled it out, taking it into her arms, she swam up. Breaching the surface, she looked down, watching as the baby breathed in the air. 

The first breath.

Ronal gazed down at the baby, brows pinched together as she took her in. Confusion was the least she could describe it as. 

A moment passed. Ronal mounted her tsurak, and she returned home.

Whispers surrounded her as she walked through the village, eyes following her and landing on the unknown infant in her embrace. In the mere minutes she’d had the baby, she felt an overwhelming sense of maternal instinct towards it. She reasoned she felt that way about most babies, but this was stronger.

She approached her Marui, Tonowari, meeting her at the entrance. He gazed down at her, then the baby, confusion panting his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, stuck in the flurry of words he was trying to put together.

“The Great Mother brought her to me,” Ronal spoke, calm and melodic. “To us.” Tonowari gazed up at her. 

Words exchanged between them in complete silence. 

He nodded, stepping aside, allowing Ronal to enter the Marui. 

The two took to their daughter quickly, entranced by the baby given to them by Eywa. They were lost, confused by her appearance, but they didn’t question it. They simply placed her in the cradle with their other baby, Ao’nung, watching as they turned and curled to hold each other.

“You dreamt of her.” Tonowari’s voice broke the silence.

Ronal, attention on the baby's unwavering, nodded. “Last night, yes.”

He looked to his wife, tentative as he examined her facial expression. “And the others?” He questioned. 

There was a moment of silence, Ronal’s hand coming to rest on the edge of the cradle. 

“I do not care. She is my daughter. She is ours now.”

Tonowari stared at his wife before nodding, reaching down to cup his daughter's face in his hand. “And what is our daughter's name?” He spoke, already transfixed by the infant lying in the cradle he crafted by hand. 

Ronal tilted her head, watching the girl. After a moment, she gazed to Tonowar, their eyes meeting as a soft smile graced her lips.

“Syuli”

After your death, Jake’s loyalty to the RDA wavered. Grace had accepted her fate as a trapped scientist long ago, but Jake refused. He bonded with Neytiri and Tsu’tey quicker, earning the faith of the clan before he finished his Iknimaya. 

He saw it in black and white. The humans left you alone and to die, the Na’vi loved you as their own and wept at your death. His decision was clear-cut.

Still, his fast actions weren’t enough to prevent the events that led to Neytiri’s belief of his betrayal. Or the destruction of the home tree. Or the death of those he fought by.

By the end of the war, your death was followed by many others. Black stains on Jake’s heart. He mourned you, grieved for you. The devastation of the war was hard enough, but you? You weren’t even a casualty; you were a victim of the most unfortunate of circumstances. He replayed it in his head over and over again, each time wondering what he could have done to save you, to prevent your death. 

It drove him to the worst of his depths. A side of himself he hadn’t even seen when his brother died. 

The only thing keeping him afloat was Neytiri and the child that lay in her womb.

“She is with Grace now, my Jake, with the Great Mother.” Neytiri would say, burying her grief. Twice, she's lost you now. When Sylwanin died and her parents shut down their connections with the humans, she wept for not only her sister but for you. Would she never see you again? At least back then, she found comfort in the fact that you were safe and in Grace’s care. 

Perhaps you still were, in her arms, just as you are in the Great Mothers. But you’re not in hers. That’s what hurt. How you’d never grow up, forever stuck as the small child she knew and loved. 

Time passed, and she had Neteyam. Her sweet baby boy. She felt the cracks in her heart start to be stitched back together, only further healed when they took in Kiri. 

She saw it in Jake, too, how he took to his fatherly role immediately, perhaps better prepared after his time with you. Slowly but surely, they came to be okay again. 

Still, you burned in their hearts. As she wove her songcord, she pulled one of the beads from the bracelet you made her, as carefully as she could, and wove it in. 

A‘eveng, Y/n, ohe oamum 

Wamintxu fi oe, a syawn

a’atanur oe mameyam 

meyam ohe ngenga, tsalsungay pehrr lom

A child, Y/n, i knew

showed to me, a blessing

a light I held in my arms

I hold you, even when gone

It was hard to speak about you to the kids. They didn’t want to introduce the idea of someone dying at such a young age. They also still grieved you, struggling to accept your death. It wasn’t fair. You should be with them, growing up alongside their children. You would have been such a good big sister.

This hit Jake especially hard, knowing how you’d been excited to have another kid on base; Spider. You raved to him about how you were going to bring him to the lab all the time, what toys you’d give him, and how you wanted to teach him Na’vi and have him as a little brother. At least, the closest you could have to one.

So it was hard watching Spider do all that, grow up and learn Na’vi, come into his family and be seen by his kids as a fellow sibling, knowing it was everything you wanted. 

But years passed, and their family grew, and it grew strong. Their children knew of you in passing, in hushed breaths like how they spoke of Sylwanin and the others they’d loved that left them through such harsh tragedies. 

Neytiri and Jake didn’t want the children to wonder what it would have been like to have you in the family. It was already too painful for them to wonder themselves.

Their children grew, their personalities developed, and they came into their own. It was hard not to see you in each of them. Tuk’s curiosity, Lo’ak’s mischief, the softness in Kiri’s eyes, and how Neteyam was so thoughtful with his words. For all its hurt, it also gave them comfort. They’d continue to see you, even when you weren’t with them. 

Their grief became something mellow, something they could plant love and strength into.

But then the RDA came back. Like an old scar tearing apart, refusing to heal. Their lives turned upside down, and their healing came to a harsh halt, slowly stepping backwards against the blood and gunfire they stood in.

That eclipse, when the kids were in the hands of the recoms, Jake felt barbed wire wrapping around his throat. 

He heard their whines, their yelps of pain, and he almost lost them. He refused to risk it. Not again.

“He had our children. Had them under his knife.” He was scared, begging Neytiri to leave, to find a better place for them. He hadn’t been able to find one for you. He wouldn’t let that happen again. “Look, I got nothing… I've got no plan. But I can protect this family. That I can do.”

Neytiri heard the unsaid, seeing what he saw when he spoke. 

“But I do know one thing, wherever we go, this family is our fortress.” It was unintentional, his hands placed delicately on her shoulders, one slipping down, grazing the armband she’d woven with your bracelet in it.

They had to protect their children. 

The Travel to the Metkayina was difficult, tiring, laborious, and met with storms that raged against them. But they pushed through. They’ve pushed through worse; they’d do this for their family.

They landed on the beach, drawing the attention of the clan, who gathered around them in confusion and awe. They were nervous, holding themselves close together as they were gawked at and picked on by oncoming clan members.

Jake felt a sense of relief when Tonowari, an honorable man and the clan's Olo’eyktan, arrived at the scene, greeting them warmly and with a smile. He felt confident, with Tonowari on their side, he believed he could get past the wall Ronal would inevitably put up.

As the crowd parted, he prepared himself, but he felt all the breath be taken out of his lungs.

Ronal stalked closer, her imposing demeanor, but that wasn’t what shocked him. Behind her, following at her heels, was a young girl. Teal skin with swirling stripes.

She resembled you. 

He couldn’t place it; the girl was Metkayina, in every way. But something about her face, the way her expression was set in it, how she carried herself. The air around her, the look in her eyes. All of it set off bells in his chest, ringing and clanging against the grief that settled there. The grief for you. 

She stood behind Ronal, tilting her head exactly the way you did when you were curious about something. 

Neytiri had seen it hundreds of times, holding you in her lap at the schoolhouse. She let out a breath. Jake glanced at her, millions of words passing between them.

She saw it too.

Jake took a moment to collect himself, pulling back from the shock he’d experienced but couldn’t explain. He went on with his prepared speech. He was seeking Uturu; sanctuary, safety for his family. 

His veins were buzzing. He didn’t want to be turned away, to force his children to retreat in defeat, praying they’d find another clan willing to listen and take them in. He felt helpless.

Ronal, skeptical, circled the family. She pulled at their tails, remarking how inefficient they’d be in the water, in their way of life. 

She approached Kiri, taking her hands in hers. A scowl crossed her face. Four fingers. Kiri held her breath, self-conscious of her extra finger, a tell-tale sign of their human descent. Demon descent.

Ronal gazed down, tilting her head.

She looked up to her daughter, the one who’d arrived with her. She watched her for a moment, the dreams she saw all those years ago flooding her mind. Something she’d never speak aloud.

She dropped Kiri’s hands, walking past the children and Jake Sully. “You are ill fit to live here.”

“We can adapt. We can learn.” He pleaded, desperate to convince them to let his family stay. Desperate to appease the leaders of the clan. 

“I’m done with war.” He spoke to Tonowari, quiet and between them. “I just want to keep my family safe.”

Ronal watched him, not convinced by his words. Behind her, her daughter stepped forward, placing her hand on her mother's shoulder.

“Sa’nu.” The words escaped her lips, and Jake breathed in. He saw you, sitting in Grace’s lap in the lab, running up to her excitedly, lying at the spirit tree, dying. 

Ronal looked at her daughter, words exchanged between their gazes, she turned to her mate, being met with the same sentiment. A moment passed, and she nodded. 

“Jake Sully and his family will stay with us.” Tonowari announced, explaining to the clan their duty to teach them their ways of life. 

Jake sighed in relief, bringing forth a ‘thank you’ from his family. 

“Our children, Syuli, Ao’nung, and Tsireya, will show your children what to do.”

Ao’nung stepped forth, displeased by his father's decision, but silenced.

“Come, we will show you our village!” Tsireya stepped forward, hand in hand with her sister. 

You looked to the family that had arrived at your village. You took in their faces. 

They felt familiar to you. You couldn’t place it.

Tsireya tugged you along through the village, humming as you made your way across the woven walkways. Neytiri and Jake, though focused on taking in their new home, couldn’t help but watch you. The bounce in your step all too familiar.

It was eerie, and they didn’t understand their attribution of you to the little girl they’d known all those years ago. 

You became a constant in their life, always around their kids, peeking into their Marui to offer fruits you’d picked with your mother. You were a sweetheart, thoughtful, and kind to their children. 

Your mother stayed skeptical of her allowance of the foreigners into their clan, fueled by your growing night problems. 

It had been years since she last caught you sleepwalking. It was a problem when you were a child, roaming around the village in the midst of the night. Many concerned clan members came to her with stories of how you found yourself at the edge of the walkways, staring up into the open sky with a withered look on your face.

You sleep-talked, she discovered after staying up to follow you one night. You spoke garbled sentences, strung together words that didn’t make sense. You spoke in a mix of Na’vi and English.

How you even knew the language? She couldn’t understand. 

She prayed nightly, seeking for guidance on how to help her sweet baby girl. Again, she was only met with visions of that human child.

It all came to a head one night when Tsireya woke her up, lip jutting out as she whispered that you’d fallen during your walks. Ronal soothed her daughter, telling her to go back to sleep before leaving to find you. 

You were on your knees, hands clasped together as you spoke in broken prayers, eyes glazed over. You were somewhere she didn’t know.

She was tired of it, worried to death, and lost. So, she did the only thing she could think of. She pulled you into the water carefully, holding you as she rode to the Cove of the Ancestors. You came out of your trance, slowly but surely, but still drowsy and out of it. 

She was able to coax you to enough consciousness to get you to dive under, connecting with the spirit tree. 

She doesn’t know what you saw when you did. All she knows is that you hadn’t sleep-walked, or talked since. She knew you were special. A child she would never truly understand, but she loved and cherished you with everything she had. 

She saw the way the animals around you seemed to move in sync with you, how the luminescence at night pulsed with your breath. She didn’t ask for answers. She loved you and she trusted the Great Mother. 

But here you were again, standing at the entrance of their Marui, eyes glazed over, staring off into the stars. Ever since they’d let the Sullys stay, you’d been walking and talking in your sleep again. 

It wasn’t as intense, thankfully, but it was enough to rouse her or her children from sleep every so often.

They worried for you. They took turns staying up, watching you, easing you back to sleep, careful not to startle you from your trance. During the day, they acted as if nothing was different. They knew you were different, but they loved you nonetheless. You were their daughter, their sister. 

Ao’nung picked on you, teasing you and going out of his way to bother you. It was his way of showing his love, he joked. He had his moments. Picking you up in his arms and carrying you across the village to your mother for treatment when you hurt yourself on a spear, ignoring your complaints that it was your hand that was injured, not your legs, you could still walk! He ignored you, carefully setting you down in their Marui, lurking by the door until you were bandaged up and ready to leave.

Tsireya was easier. You got along with your younger sister without any problems, aside from the occasional spat that never went anywhere. You two were two peas in a pod. Inseparable. Hands clasped together, arms wrapped around each other. You were always together. It’s how you thrived. 

Ronal and Tonowari, they never gave a second thought to the fact that you weren’t theirs, because you were. From the moment they’d set you down in that cradle, you’d become theirs. Their love for you was strong and unwavering. They called your name out with affection, they weaved you jewelry and clothes with love, they never let you doubt you were loved. They held you as you slept, as you dreamt.

And you dreamt. You dreamt every night. Of faces, of voices, of people you didn’t know, but knew. 

By the time you woke up, your dreams were in blurry fragments, unable to be pieced together or made sense of. 

Your family didn’t voice their worries to you. They saw how you flourished when interacting with their new clan members. 

You were patient with them, guiding them through your way of life like it was the easiest thing to do. You blended in with them, conversing with the children so easily, it was as if you’d been doing it your entire life. 

You and your siblings, Rotxo, and the Sully kids became somewhat of a friend group. Always together, at least in fragments. You felt as if your family had expanded.

The Sully kids adored you, especially Kiri. It was something about the way the two of you seemed to understand nature that connected you. And perhaps, your mysterious origins. 

You confided in Kiri, and Kiri alone, about your peculiar birth. The whole clan knew, they’d witnessed it firsthand, but the story hadn’t made its way to the Sullys. Perhaps it was because it was accepted, no one thought twice about it, you were Ronal and Tonowari's daughter. No one thought to mention that, by biological means, you weren’t.

You told her how you didn’t know your biological parents. No one did. Abandoned at the Spirit tree, you were taken in by Ronal and Tonowari, raised alongside Tsireya, and essentially as Ao’nung’s twin. 

She told you about her mother, a scientist who was beloved by their clan, who died during the first war against the humans. She was born from her Avatar.

Grace.

You spoke her name before Kiri told you.

An odd look passed her face. It wasn't until it dripped from your chin that you realised a tear had slipped down your cheek.

“I-i’m sorry, I'm just-” You strung together words, embarrassed and confused by your unconscious outburst. “It’s hard to speak about my birth.” You blamed it on that. Kiri accepted your words, wrapping her arms around you in an embrace that felt warmer than anything else you’d experienced.

You grew a lot closer to the Sully kids. It was their parents who were odd to be around.

Jake and Neytiri didn’t know what to think of you. You were Ronal and Tonowari’s daughter, Na’vi, born and raised in the reef. Yet when they looked at you, heard your voice, all they could see was that little girl they’d loved. 

They were going crazy. That was the only explanation. Driven mad by the destruction of their home and subsequent forced abandonment of it. 

They wanted to talk to you. They ached to. But it ached just as much to do so. It wasn’t fair to you, their projections of grief onto you. 

You were kind, you spoke for them when they first arrived, and you went out of your way to welcome them. You taught their children and defended them, taking them in as if they were your blood. 

But every time they saw you, they were swarmed by a whirlpool of grief and relief. 

“She speaks like her.” Neytiri would whisper one night, when all the children were off in the village attending a celebration, Jake lying next to her.

“Yeah.” He’d say, eyes locked on Neytiri’s face, watching as she wandered through her mind. Watching as a tear slipped down her cheek. 

For weeks, they watched you, watching every movement and quirk you exhibited. How you spoke, how you moved through the walkways, your sense of humor. The way you scrunched your nose in a certain way when faced with food you didn’t like. It all pointed back.

Back to her.

That girl.

She haunted them. 

A ghost following them around. One they thought they’d put to rest over a decade ago. 

They had moved on. They grieved her, yes, but they had learned to live without her. Just as they did with every person they lost. 

But she was back. 

They thought it was in their heads at first, but the more they saw, the more they became sure. 

Her body had disappeared, Neytiri recounted to him, a whisper under her breath as they watched you talk to Neteyam and Tsireya from afar. They’d left her at the tree like Mo’at demanded, abiding by Eywa's wishes. Her body was gone far too quickly to have been natural decomposition, and no creature would dare feast on a body wrapped in Eywa’s arms like she was.

They didn’t question it, too wrapped up in their grief to try and breach the topic. They simply accepted it. Eywa wanted her. She was with Grace, they believed. 

But she wasn’t.

She was in the reef, living amongst the people, living. 

They saw you, and they saw her. One in the same.

They’d grieved you, and now you stood right in front of them, out of their reach.

It tore them apart. They must have been going insane because you were not that girl they knew, you were not the girl they loved and doted on. But you were.

You couldn’t be. 

But they watched and they watched and they saw. They saw her. 

“It’s not her.” Jake’s voice was steel. Laced with a hardened grief. 

“I know what I saw, you know what you see.” Neytiri defended, unsure of how to explain it. 

He shook his head, pacing back and forth in the Marui, sliding a hand down his face. 

“She’s a Metkayina! She’s Ronal and Tonowai’s daughter! That's it.” He spoke so certainly, as if he were trying to convince himself.

The two breathed heavily, working through their mind and hearts to get their words. Logic wasn’t making sense, but they tried to cling to it, both of them in different ways. 

“Ronal didn’t give birth to her, nor did Tonowair father her.” Neytiris' words were heavy, like steel and stone. “A gift from Eywa, Ronal calls her.”

Their eyes met. 

At this point, they were haunted less by you and more by the fact that you were back. It wasn’t easy mourning someone, learning to accept their death after having grown to love them so fiercely, to learn how to live without them. All of that, only for them to appear again. 

All those walls they’d built, all the strength they’d planted in their grief, it was crumbling, the base of it all blowing away like sand in the wind. 

It almost hurt more than the grief itself. 

They simmered in it for weeks, speaking through glances and hushed whispers. 

It was quiet that day. Jake was making his rounds through the village when he heard it. The humming. Not just the humming but the tune.

Slowly, he rounded the corner, peaking around the Marui, eyes landing on you sitting on the edge of the walkway, legs dangling from an opening. You sat there, beading an arm piece as you hummed.

You hummed the lullaby Jake had used to sing that girl to sleep. The lullaby from Earth.

He felt his chest crack open. He wanted to say something, to reach out and speak to you-

“Sempu!” You called out, spotting Tonowari walk up from another direction. Wordlessly, you held up your work for him, a smile spreading across your face as he approached and knelt down.

“Ah, this is great work, my little ‘itetsyip.” He leaned in, hand reaching up to pull it closer to examine it. He grinned, nodding towards you. “You are an exceptional crafter.”

Jake watched the scene, brows furrowing, a weight resting in his chest. 

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, bah! You and Mother praise me far too much.” 

Tonowair simply chuckled, his hand moving to cradle your cheek as you grinned at him. 

“No, we simply see how great you are.”

Jake started to notice more after that. He watched not just you, but your life. How you wandered freely through the village, greeting your clan members eagerly, your cheerfulness returned. You were surrounded by kids your age, all watching you with a mix of adoration and respect. You bonded with your siblings, giggling over inside jokes and banter. 

Your parents were doting. They didn’t spoil you; they made sure you were responsible and self-aware, but they loved you, and they showed it. The more he watched, the more Neytiri did too; perhaps she’d been watching the full scene the whole time.

You weren’t alone.

You smiled so widely, and you never had to beg, you never had to work for attention or affection. You were accepted wholeheartedly. 

You had everything you wanted here, Neytiri and Jake realized. You had everything they wanted to give you, and you didn’t have any barriers. You weren’t human or parentless. You moved about freely. You weren’t raised to expect to come second, third, or fourth place. 

Neytiri and Jake had wanted to give you that life. But they couldn’t. They never could.

The Great Mother didn’t fulfill their desires to be the one to love you; she gave you what you needed. She gave you the opportunity to live. 

It was bittersweet. You had the life you wanted. You were loved. 

Just not by them. 

And that was ok. 

They’d lived their lives, they’d found happiness, a family, and they were good. 

You’d found what you needed, even if it wasn’t with them. 

[garfieldsladybird]

OH THANK YOU TO WHOEVER GAVE ME A REQUEST I LOVE YOUUU!!! 🫶🫶🫶

[garfieldsladybird]

Girls night out | James Potter x wife!reader

summary: a girls night out, but how will both of your boys react to it?

warning: cute pure fluff, needy Harry, cute James, mommy’s boy def both of them

You hummed softly as you were curling your hair. Music played from the record player as you muttered a spell to keep your curls in tact. Lily had called you up later that day asking if you wanted to go out on a girls trip. She asked Molly as well. No kids, no husbands and definitely meltdowns. It was perfect.

Molly had recommended a spot near town where they served you drinks and appetizers and it was nothing special. You needed to relax. Having to deal with James and Harry was enough because they both were begging for your attention all the time.

“Mummy, where are you going?” Harry asked as he stumbled into your end room. You flinched. You were hopping to make an escape without him finding out. Harry pulled on your dress and looked at you.

“I’m going out my some friends tonight” You said with a smile as you looked down at him. “Like a playdate” you said when able trying to speak in his own language.

“Can I come?” Harry asked as he held up his arms motioning for you to pick him up. You looked down at him. Your heart broke a little. You knew you were going to practically pull him off of you.

“No baby, it’s just a girls trip” You said bracing yourself for the tears. Harry looked at you like you broke his favorite toy right in front of him. You grabbed your dress and his eyes got big. You could see the tears brim his tiny little eyes.

“But mama!” He squealed as the tears bell down his face. His glasses were falling down his nose as he buried his face in your chest. You sighed softly as you went and walked out of the your room to the kitchen.

“It’s okay bubba. Your gonna be with daddy” You said with a small smile as you patted his back softly as you walked into the kitchen were James was finishing up Harry’s dinner.

“That’s right, little man. You and Daddy get to have the best day ever! And mommy will be back before you know it” James said as he turned around and kissed your cheek as he tried to grab Harry.

“No! Want mommy!” Harry said as he buried his head in your chest and grabbed the soft fabric of your yellow sundress. You sighed as you kissed the top of his head. You were afraid this was going to happen.

“Okay, Harry. Mommy’s gotta go but when she comes back you can sleep in mommy and daddy’s bed” You said as you looked down at him. He slowly looked up at you and fixed his glasss with his tiny hands.

“Really?” He asked as he wiped his eyes and looked at you like you hung the moon. You looked at James as he smiled and walked over to you and moved to grab Harry and Harry let him.

“Yeah, bud. But we have to be really good for daddy” James said and Harry nodded his head and he leaned into James. James was able to put Harry in his seat. You smiled as you kissed James and Harry goodbye as you exited the house.

The night was filled with laughter and drinks. Molly with already 6 kids had her work cut out for her. She had been begging for a play date and now Charlie was missing her. For the longest time you used to baby sit the boys for Molly and Charlie had always loved you.

When you had came back Harry was sleeping on the couch as James was sitting next to him. When James saw you he smiled and walked over to you. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your neck softly.

“Hey, sweetheart. Did you have fun?” He asked you as he wrapped you in his arms tightly. You smiled as you were able to relax in the comfort of your own home.

“Yeah. I’m glad to be back” You said with a smile as you kissed him on the lips. The kiss was soft and sweet, something you needed. You let go and looked back at the sleeping Harry. “Did he do okay?” You asked as you leaned on James.

“Perfect. Only 3 meltdowns of I miss mommy. I may or may not have joined him” James said as he looked down at you and kissed the side of your head. You couldn’t help but giggle.

[garfieldsladybird]

dump his ass. move to a walkable city. start hormones. get into fiber crafts. dye your hair weird. grow an herb garden. foster a distrustful cat. take a welding class. invite your friends over for tea and cake. get way too into obscure media. explore a new cuisine. lie to the police. protest in the streets. life has so many possibilities don't it?

[garfieldsladybird]

in a week. james potter x reader

james wants to rot inside you. and you let him *. ⋆ 3k words

part of the hozier series i'm writing with my girlies @twovialsofamortentia @mischievousmoony @prettydaisygirl !

cw: smut. fem!reader. established relationship. morning sex. light choking. spit. praise. degradation. tit focused (kinda). dry humping. piv. unprotected sex. thumb sucking. crying. begging. biting. unhinged/religious devotion. posessive!james. feral!james. overstimulation (he comes so many times i don't think it's possible). cursing. a bit of aftercare. lmk if i missed smth!

a/n: james would NOT survive in the same room as me

you wake up to the sound of birds.

the curtains move gently through the open window, the breeze soft against the bare skin of your arms, and there’s warmth at your back, alive, heavy, hard. his breath is slow on your shoulder. his thigh is tucked between yours and his arm around your waist, anchoring you to him.

james.

he’s still asleep. his cock is already half-hard, thick and insistent pressing on the curve of your ass. you shift slightly and he grunts, his nose nuzzling into your neck.

it’s not a surprise. he always wakes up like this, reaching for you in sleep like instinct.

as if he’ll stop breathing if he can’t touch you. as if he’ll rot without you in his arms.

you stay like that for a while, with the sweat slick warmth of skin on skin wrapping you like a cocoon.

the birds are chirping outside, awoken by the morning light. you see a few of them fly by, one or two even daring to land on the tree just outside the window.

then he speaks, low and raspy from sleep.

“still here,” he murmurs, tightening his hold. “thought you’d slipped away.”

“I never do.”

he exhales, rubbing and nuzzling deeper into your skin. “dreamt of you again.”

you hum. “yeah? what was I doing?”

“crying. moaning. you were… fuck, you were so wet.”

you feel yourself pulse at the sound of it—at the filth in his voice.

“I was inside you,” he says, his fingers slipping beneath your shirt, across your belly, higher. “and I kept thinking… let it kill me.”

his hand finds your chest, and he groans like your body hurts him.

“let me rot here,” he whispers. “right between your tits.”

“james,” you murmur, torn between laughter and a whimper.

“I'm serious,” he says, kissing your shoulder. “gonna build a shrine. right here.” he presses a kiss between your shoulder blades. “holy ground.”

his thumb flicks lazily over your nipple and he moans like your body is sunrise itself.

“I'm obsessed,” he whispers. “wanna live here. wanna die here.”

you squirm back against him and feel his cock twitch.

“oh, fuck—don’t do that,” he groans. “m’gonna come before we even start.”

“we haven’t started anything,” you tease.

“tell that to my dick,” he mutters. “he’s already giving his last words.”

you giggle, and james finally rolls you onto your back. his eyes are half-lidded, curls messy, and there’s something so beautiful about the lazy way he drapes himself over you, like your body is the only home he’s ever known.

he presses his face into your chest, nose nuzzling your sternum.

“I’m gonna die between your tits,” he murmurs.

“not very romantic,” you say.

“not very negotiable either.”

his lips move lower, tongue dragging over the fabric of your sleep shirt until it soaks through. he sucks gently at your nipple, even through the cotton, and you gasp at the heat.

“take it off,” he mumbles against your skin.

you lift your arms, and he peels the shirt away slowly, eyes trailing down your bare chest with open worship. his lips part. his hands shake.

“fuck me,” he says reverently. “you look carved.”

his mouth finds your nipple again, this time bare, and he groans. he suckles like he needs it to breathe—like this is communion. you whimper, hips shifting under him, and he growls, grinding down just enough for you to feel the thick press of his cock through both your clothes.

his hand slides down your thigh, then back up under the hem of your shorts.

“still have these on?” he asks, voice dark now. “that’s rude. you’re wet, aren’t you?”

you nod.

“words, baby.”

“yes,” you gasp. “I'm wet. for you. always.”

james moans, humping against you harder.

“gonna make you come just like this,” he mutters. “clothes on, tits out, my mouth on you. that’s all I need.”

his hips stutter. he spits directly onto your nipple, then sucks it clean. you cry out. your hands tangle in his curls. he’s rutting now, deliberate, hard, and filthy. the heat of him is overwhelming.

“feel that?” he pants. “that’s what you do to me. every morning. you walk around this house like a fucking dream, and i’m hard from the second i open my eyes. you know how many times I've come just grinding into your ass like this?”

you whine.

“too many,” he says. “and I’d do it a thousand more.”

you can’t think. you can’t breathe. his thigh presses between your legs and your clit rubs against the seam of your panties with every desperate shift of your hips.

you’re so close already.

james is panting against your chest, one hand splayed across your thigh, the other still gripping your breast like he’ll die if he lets go. you’re rutting against each other like animals, still mostly clothed, sweat slicking your skin where it touches.

“you gonna come like this?” he pants. “grinding against my cock like you’re in heat?”

you nod frantically. “i’m close… james, please—”

“yeah? want me to make a mess of you first?” he growls. “want to drip down your thighs before i even fuck you?”

you moan, your body trembling under his, and that’s all it takes—he presses his thigh harder between your legs, your clit catching perfectly against the pressure, and everything shatters.

you come with a gasp, hips jerking, nails digging into his shoulders. your thighs clamp around his leg, riding the wave of it, and james groans like it’s happening to him.

“fucking hell,” he breathes. “you’re so wet. fuck, I’m—shit, I’m—”

he ruts faster, cock twitching in his boxers, and then he’s coming too, his whole body stiffening as he groans into your chest. it’s filthy. raw. a low, desperate sound as he humps through it, grinding his cock against you until he’s trembling.

you lie there for a beat. ruined. his breath stutters against your chest.

“jesus christ,” he says eventually. “that was…”

you tilt your head to look at him. “insane?”

“religious,” he says. “that was sacred.”

you laugh breathlessly.

but james lifts his head, sweat damp at his hairline, eyes dark with something deeper now.

“I’m not done,” he says.

you blink.

“I need to be inside you,” he says, voice hoarse. “like—need it. right now.”

your body pulses at his tone. you nod, breathless.

he peels your shorts and ruined underwear down your thighs and tosses them somewhere behind him. his fingers trail through your folds, and he groans.

“you’re soaked. from just grinding on me. from my thigh and my mouth and my fucking voice.”

he leans down and spits onto your cunt, then rubs it in with his fingers, slow and dirty.

“open up for me,” he says. “let me ruin you properly.”

you reach between you to shove his boxers down. his cock springs free, already hard again, flushed red and leaking.

you whimper. “how the fuck are you—”

“angel,” he says, lining himself up, “I get hard just looking at you. you think coming in my pants could stop me?”

you laugh, barely. because he pushes in, thick and slow, splitting you open inch by inch until he’s buried to the hilt.

“oh my—james—”

he groans, head dropping to your shoulder. “fuck, you feel like heaven. like the end of me.”

he starts to move, slow at first, deep and measured. you arch into him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, mouth open in a silent moan.

“gonna fuck you like it’s the last thing I ever do,” he whispers. “gonna leave bruises where my name belongs.”

one hand wraps around your throat, not tight, just holding you, a claim. the other drags up your ribs, over your chest, squeezing your breast until you cry out.

“you’re all mine,” he says, voice wrecked. “you feel that? my cock in you, my hands on you. you let me spit in your mouth, ride my thigh, come in your sleep clothes like you’re made for me.”

you nod. “I am.”

he groans. “say it.”

“i’m made for you. just you.”

his hips snap harder now, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the room. he spits into your mouth and watches you swallow.

“fuck,” he growls. “that’s it. my good girl. my filthy, perfect girl.”

you whimper beneath him, your second orgasm already building, your body desperate.

“I’m close,” you gasp.

“then come,” he snarls. “come on my cock, baby. show me how wrecked you are.”

you do.

it hits like fire, ripping through you, white-hot and violent. you cry out his name, clawing at his back, and he groans, hips stuttering as you clamp around him.

“shit—gonna come too—fuck—you’re squeezing me like you want to keep me inside.”

“I do,” you pant. “come in me. fill me up.”

he growls, deep and low and possessive. and then he’s gone, emptying himself inside you with a choked, broken moan.

he doesn’t pull out.

instead, he stays there. deep. his chest pressed to yours. both of you heaving.

“let me rot here,” he says again, quieter this time. “right inside you.”

you thread your fingers through his curls and pull him down for a kiss.

“stay,” you whisper.

and he does.

you don’t know how long you lie like that—him still inside you, softening slowly, both of you wrapped around each other like ivy. the room smells like sex. sweat clings to your skin. and james keeps whispering things into your hair that sound more like confessions than dirty talk.

“i’d die like this,” he breathes. “inside you. warm. buried. want my bones to dissolve here.”

“morbid,” you whisper, eyes closed.

“romantic,” he corrects, and presses a kiss to your jaw.

you feel him hardening again.

you open one eye.

“again?”

he shifts slightly, and you moan as his cock thickens inside you.

“course again,” he murmurs. “you think I can stop? after that? after you clenched around me like you were scared I'd leave?”

you whimper. your body’s still trembling. your clit still aches. but he’s kissing down your neck now, gentle, then harder, until his teeth scrape.

“you want to stop?” he asks, breath warm against your collarbone.

you shake your head.

he grins.

“didn’t think so.”

he pulls out slowly, and your body throbs at the loss. but before you can complain, he drags you into his lap, settling you over his thighs so you’re straddling him, your pussy hovering just above his cock.

his hands grab your ass, squeezing once before pulling you down to grind against him.

“you’re gonna ride me,” he says, voice like gravel. “until you can’t see straight.”

your hands grip his shoulders. his cock slides between your folds, not inside yet, just dragging along your slit, teasing your swollen clit.

“look at you,” he whispers. “so fucked out already. you still want more?”

you nod, dazed.

“use your words.”

“I want more.”

“greedy,” he murmurs. “my greedy girl.”

he leans in to suck your tit again, messy and hungry, while his hands guide your hips to grind down on him. it’s torture. wet and hot and not enough.

“beg for it.”

“james—”

“beg.”

you whimper. “please. please let me ride you. i need it. i need to come again. i want your cock so bad it hurts.”

he groans. “fuck—you’re perfect.”

you lift your hips and line him up, then sink down slow. both of you moan, heads falling forward, foreheads touching.

“good girl,” he breathes. “take it. take all of it.”

you start to move, rocking your hips, rolling them in messy circles as his cock presses deep inside you. james is unraveling beneath you, moaning into your skin, biting at your chest.

“god, you feel like sin,” he groans. “warm and tight and mine.”

you start to bounce, each thrust sending sparks through your spine. james loses it—his head falls back, mouth open, chest heaving.

you lean in and bite his neck.

hard.

“fuck—” he chokes. “do that again.”

you do. sinking your teeth into the curve where his neck meets his shoulder. he thrusts up into you so hard it punches a moan out of your throat.

he grabs your hips and starts fucking up into you now, using your body like it belongs to him—and it does. you’re both gone. sweaty, loud, feral.

you spit into his mouth this time.

he swallows and groans like it’s air.

“I'm gonna come,” you gasp. “gonna come on your cock, james, oh my god—”

“do it,” he pants. “fucking soak me, baby. make a mess. show me what I do to you.”

you shatter. loud and wet and wild. you don’t even realize you're crying until james is licking tears off your cheeks, moaning praises into your mouth.

and then he comes, biting down on your shoulder, cock pulsing inside you, hips stuttering as he spills deep.

you collapse against his chest, trembling, boneless.

“I’ll never need anyone else,” he whispers. “ever.”

your bodies are tangled and soaked with sweat. the sheets are a mess. you’re not even sure where your shirt ended up, or when exactly james started trembling like he was about to cry.

but you’re still in his lap, his arms wrapped tight around you, cock twitching deep inside your soaked cunt, your heart beating against his chest like a war drum.

and james won’t stop kissing you.

lazy kisses. gentle kisses. desperate, open-mouthed ones that make you dizzy.

“still with me?” he mumbles, eyes glazed but fond. his hands are stroking your hips like he’s grounding himself.

you nod, forehead against his. “are you?”

“no,” he says softly. “i’m fucking gone.”

you laugh, exhausted.

but he shifts beneath you, and suddenly his cock is hard again. still inside you. still pulsing.

“james—”

“i told you,” he breathes, eyes dark and glassy, “i can’t stop.”

your thighs are shaking. your clit is raw. your whole body is too sensitive to move, but the idea of him fucking you again makes your core clench, greedy and ready.

james feels it. “oh, you liked that.”

he grins, devilish and boyish all at once, and then he lifts you up, just a little, until only the tip of his cock remains inside.

then slams you down again.

you scream.

“i know,” he whispers. “sensitive, yeah? but i need it, baby. need to see you come again. need to feel you fluttering around me while i ruin you for the fourth fucking time.”

you moan, overwhelmed and already so far gone that your eyes well with tears.

“aw, don’t cry,” he coos, cupping your cheek. “or do. i like it. you’re pretty when you sob for me.”

his thumb drags over your bottom lip, then shoves into your mouth. you suck on it instinctively.

“fuck,” he breathes. “you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

you nod, drooling around his thumb.

“that’s my girl.”

he starts thrusting up into you again, slow but punishing. you can’t even move anymore, so he uses his grip on your hips to bounce you, just enough to send lightning through your nerves. your eyes roll back.

“look at you,” he groans. “fucked dumb and still taking it. my perfect little mess.”

you whimper something unintelligible. he kisses your cheek.

“gonna come again?”

“I—I can’t—”

“yes you can,” he growls. “you’re going to. you’re going to soak me again and scream for it. come on, baby, give it to me.”

his fingers rub your clit, and it’s too much.

your orgasm rips through you, high and shrieking and borderline painful—and james moans like it’s his own.

he follows a second later, biting your collarbone, coming inside you one more time as your cunt flutters around him, pulling every drop from his cock.

this time, you really collapse.

fully limp.

james holds you tighter.

“my girl,” he breathes, over and over. “my girl. my girl. mine.”

you’re not sure when you blacked out. not passed out, just gone. drifting. floating somewhere above your own body, high on orgasm and heat and james’s voice murmuring filth into your neck.

you’re still in his lap. still full of him. the sheets beneath you are a disaster. his curls are damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead. and his cock is finally soft again, tucked inside you like it belongs there.

neither of you speak for a long while.

james just breathes. kisses your temple. rubs circles into your back like he’s tracing a map he never wants to lose.

you don’t even realize you’re crying until he wipes the tears away with his thumbs.

“too much?” he whispers. his voice is hoarse. wrecked.

you shake your head. “no. never.”

he lets out a long breath and kisses your cheek.

“didn’t mean to fuck you like I’d never see you again,” he murmurs. “but you… you make me crazy.”

you look up at him. his eyes are blown wide, glassy with something that feels like awe.

“you okay?” you ask, barely a whisper.

he nods, then pauses. “no.”

your heart jumps. “no?”

he cups your face like you’re porcelain.

“no, I'm not okay. I'm in love with you. I want to spend every day like this. every night. I want to wake up hard against your ass and go to sleep with your taste in my mouth.”

your throat tightens.

“I want to build a life around your body,” he whispers. “I want to die between your thighs. I want to come inside you so many times that you forget what empty feels like.”

you blink, tears falling again.

he brushes them away gently.

“I meant what I said,” he adds, voice low. “let me rot here. right inside you. let me be the man who never leaves your bed.”

you nod slowly.

“then stay,” you whisper. “forever.”

james smiles, soft and wrecked and completely in love.

“forever isn’t long enough,” he says. “but I’ll try.”

he kisses you then, slow and deep. and even though your body is raw and trembling and ruined, you know he’d take you again if you asked. he’d give you everything. over and over.

because he’s yours.

and you’re his.

completely.

hopelessly.

forever.

lostrologyy © 2025.

[garfieldsladybird]

Reblog if it's okay to invade your ask box.

Always

[garfieldsladybird]

To all young people out there: Don't waste your time on someone who doesn't love you back. No matter how amazing they are. Don't pine and online stalk and cry and mourn for someone who has no interest in you, no matter how much a part of your culture that seems to be. Find someone that puts in effort for you, that shows up for you, that buys you flowers and writes letters for you and is deeply in love with you and cares about you. If you're young, you might cling to your first emotional experiences, but this person is gonna come around one day and you will know what you deserve, to not look too long at people that don't matter.

[garfieldsladybird]

oh to be loved like a habit and not a chore <3

[garfieldsladybird]

hate it when im searching for x reader fics and everyone is horny like i just want my angst before sleeping rest with the smuts please

[garfieldsladybird]

im a goth girl on the inside. on the outside? a father figure.

[garfieldsladybird]

oh my goodness I think I’m getting my writers block unblocked. It’s not gonna be blocked anymore and I’m gonna write!

please send me any request ideas that you may have or anything please! 🙏

[garfieldsladybird]

barmaid | the marauders.

the marauders (james potter) x fem!reader. (use’s she).

Warnings — fluff. blurb. smoking weed/pot/cannabis. alcohol; parents drinking. cussing. loving parents :) mentions of a TV show making young adults make dinner out of a deer.. im sorry :(

Summary — smoking with mia and monty causes James spirit to die a little and you become a bartender.

Credits: This is my work. I do not own Harry Potter but this is fanfiction, and I created this. It is not to be plagiarized.

Masterlist, Navigation, Poly!marauders List.

It’s a little after 9 p.m. as the hazy smoke in your best friends parents dimly-lit room begins to reach up to the ceiling. The greatly rolled blunt makes its way around the circle and back to you, diminishing in size each time. Leaning against a desk on the floor you get a little lost in the smoke that was surrounding all of you.

As you begin to focus a bit too hard on creating rings of smoke from your mouth, your neighbor in the circle, Sirius says, “Oi, pass it will ya?” funny enough he said it with a smile, jokingly.

As he said that you were already re-inhaling for another hit before passing it to Sirius who was on the edge of the bed in front of you, Remus was sitting behind him looking at a book that Monty wanted him to read but you didn’t know what it was about. The parents were drinking, Mama Mia was going on about something about dogs and she was sitting on a stool that was next to you but you couldn’t see her face while Monty was sitting on the other side of Sirius, James was sitting behind his dad on the bed.

These moments were the best, everyone was having fun, relaxing and smoking. There’s conversations going on around you but you weren’t really paying attention to any of them, your eyes were on the tv. On the TV screen, a show was playing but it was a real life show and it was where these parents sent their, most likely, young adult children to a wildlife show where they have to spend a few days in the forest and survive going through different tasks but the tasks are also life lessons. One of those life lessons seems to be making dinner, which includes cutting up the animal of that meal, it so happens to be a deer.

A shocked expression comes on your face when you see that a it was a deer, it wasn’t showing anything that explicit but it was dead. That’s for sure.

Looking over to your dearest friend James, you now notice that he was also watching the show with a terror-stricken expression, His eyes widened with no glasses, mouth parted open, head a little tilted to the right giving off the ‘what the fuck is this?!’ look that Remus would give Sirius when he suggested stupid prank ideas.

“Now you see this is what I was doing when i was your age,” Mama Mia comments, “My ma made me do this shit if i was bad!” She laughs before sipping on her alcoholic beverage which was vodka and cranberry juice, pretty good actually.

“You’ve had to cut up a deer before?” James asks his mum with an appalled look and a shocked voice.

“Yeah, you know I lived on a farm growing up.” she explains but says it like he should know this by now which he does but he’s shocked. “Oh! you know we ate a dear I caught once when you were younger?”

“What!?!”

“Oh don’t worry we haven’t done it in awhile and I don’t think I want to get back into that.” The only reply she got after that was just a deep breath of relief. One she may or may not know the reason of why.

The show continued on and so did the conversations, the diminishing blunt now being passed to james, smoke filled his mouth as he inhaled, looking real nice when he blow it out.

“Hey, barmaid, new drink ah?” Monty says, grabbing your attention from james, looking over you see him holding his cup looking at you with his usual playful grin that james always has.

“Oh yeah,” you mumbly, getting up with a smile you grab his cup to go and make him a new drink, before leaving he stops to tell you how much ice and alcoholic, and redbull.

“Wait, why does she get to make the drink?” Sirius asks, looking at you and him with wide eyes and a pout.

“Cause shes’s the only one who makes it right, and you always drink it.” Monty tells his son, laughing at the gasp and the face of betrayal Sirius made. Even though he should be used to the dramatic acts by now.

“She drinks it to!”

‎© 𝗀𝖺𝗋𝖿𝗂𝖾𝗅𝖽𝗌𝗅𝖺𝖽y𝖻𝗂𝗋𝖽. 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾!!

— I didn’t really know what else to add and I kind of just wanted to end it. If you like it and maybe want another one or for me to continue this kind of thing, please request it :) 🫶

[garfieldsladybird]

Tumblr is hiding the request from me, but I had part of it pasted in my doc so putting that below! I do remember that it was a very sweet message though so I wanted to say thank you for that as well as for requesting, I hope you like it <3

request: and if not too much to ask, can i request a soulmate au (maybe like names on their wrist or something like that ?) where reader is remus’ soulmate but doesn’t really like him, ignoring him without much trouble since he doesn’t know her anyway. and somehow he finds out and confronts her

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k words

You know exactly what Remus Lupin’s first words to you were. They’ve been etched onto your skin from your collarbone to your shoulder in black ink since the day you were born, and they turned pink the day he said them.

Do you mind? This is a library. 

You traced the words in black pen for weeks just in case anybody caught a glimpse. How embarrassing is it to find out that your soulmate is a prat? Christ alive, some of your friends already have sweet stories of their soulmate’s first words being compliments or declarations of love at first sight. You? Your soulmate asked you to kindly shut the fuck up. 

And you did shut the fuck up; not because you didn’t want to snipe at Remus, but because you didn’t want him to feel the same tingle you just had, your first words to him changing the color of his tattoo and changing your lives forever. Just because you now had the burden of knowing didn’t mean you were ready to handle him knowing as well. 

While avoiding Remus in general is a near impossible task, avoiding speaking to him has been rather easy. He tends to let his friends lead the way through most interactions, and he seems perfectly happy to speak only to those he’s already deemed worthy of his attention. Not that you’re not the tiniest bit curious about him. You’re not naive enough to think that he won’t one day find out about you, and you’d like to eventually know the boy who’s been cosmically determined to be the best person for you to spend your life with. 

Just. Not yet. 

You’re content to observe Remus silently for the time being. Ever since you became aware of him, you can’t not be. You’ve become intimately acquainted with the way his tongue pokes into his cheek when he’s fighting back a smile. You notice the little curl that he tucks behind his ear whenever his hair gets too long, and you imagine what it might feel like to do it for him. You’ve begun to anticipate when his eyes will cut sideways to share sly looks with his friends. He does it now, glancing at Lily when Slughorn announces you’ll be pairing up to make the veritaserum antidote.

“Ah ah! Stay where you are,” Slughorn announces. He levels Marlene with a look. She sits down with a huff, pouting in Dorcas’ direction. “I won’t have an encore of last week; I’ll be assigning your partners. Black, you go with Evans.”

Sirius makes a sound like a wounded puppy. James looks equally as distressed, the two of them parting like forbidden lovers, with blown kisses and arms outheld longingly. 

“Potter, with Diggory. McKinnon and Vance, Trelawney and Meadows, Prewett and Fawley…” 

Skimming over the instructions for your potion, you don’t think to be concerned until you hear your name. You look up, unsure who was called before you, to see Remus making his way over. 

Your stomach plummets. 

“Hello,” he murmurs as he sits on the stool beside you, beginning to arrange things on the desk. 

You nod back. 

“I know this one is brewed in two parts, so hopefully today’s portion should be fairly simple.” He looks at you from the corner of his eye and gives you a small smile. “Would you rather chop or stir?” 

You pick up the small knife, holding it up in answer. Merlin, this is awkward. Remus gives you a second look for your silence before shrugging as if to say fair enough. 

“Right, we’ll need six of these minced, then.” He slides some sprigs across the work table to you.

It’s a struggle not to snark back I can read the textbook, too, thanks. You roll your eyes to yourself and get to chopping. 

Something admittedly pleasant and rather convenient about Remus is that he doesn’t have to fill silences. You work together with relative ease, no speech needed so long as you keep him supplied with his ingredients when he needs them and he keeps changing the direction of his stirring when the book says. It’s only when your potion is left to simmer and you’re preparing the herbs for the next step that you run into problems. 

“No—sorry, those need to be sliced, not diced.” Remus’ hand lands on your wrist. You still as he moves closer to you. “Here, can I?”

You step back mutely, allowing him to slip the knife from your hand. 

“Thanks,” he says. “You want to slice it in ribbons, like this, see? More of the juices get released that way. Can you see alright?” Remus looks back at you, standing a healthy distance away to peer around him. “Come on, you try.” 

You take the knife from him again. Remus doesn’t allow you half as much space as you had him, hovering over your shoulder as you slice the herbs just as he showed you. 

“That’s good.” He’s close enough for you to feel his breath on your ear. “Perfect, thanks.” He gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and returns to his place in front of the cauldron. 

You nod at him again in an attempt to convey some gratitude. Wince at how stilted it feels. 

Remus looks at you sideways. “You alright?” 

You try not to wince again, humming. 

“You sure?” He tries to get a better look at you. “Have I ticked you off somehow?” 

You shake your head.

“You’ve lost your voice?” 

Shake your head again. 

“Cat got your tongue?” 

You send him an unimpressed look out of the corner of your eye. Remus’ tongue pokes into his cheek. 

“Come on, then, what is it? I know you can speak, I’ve heard you before. You have a nice voice.” 

Now, why couldn’t those have been his first words to you?

“Frog in your throat?” 

You’re fighting a smile, now, too. The evidence of it makes Remus’ eyes spark with amusement. His lips turn up at the corners. 

“If only you were this quiet in study spaces,” he mutters, teasing. 

It’s so unknowingly dead-on that it shocks a laugh out of you. “Oh, fuck off!” 

Remus’ smile dissolves at the edges. His brow tightens, the spark in his eyes turning to something else. When you realize what you’ve done, you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. All the air has stolen from your lungs. 

“Did you…” 

“Shit,” you say. 

“It’s you. You’re it.” 

“Fuck. Merlin’s tits. I’m sorry, Remus.” 

“You…” He shakes his head, eyes scrunching shut. You know the feeling. When he opens them again, Remus looks resolute. “Come with me.” 

Slughorn hardly seems bothered that you’re leaving in the middle of class. James calls after you, “Moony?” to which Remus responds, “Loo!” and continues dragging you from the room. 

Only in the empty hallway does Remus drop your hand. The contact has sent warm funny goosebumps all up your arm, which isn’t a soulmate effect you’ve heard about before but it must be one. Remus looks at you like you’ve stolen all his air, too. 

“You just told me to fuck off,” he says. 

“Oh, come on.” You try to smile. “It can’t be the first time someone’s told you that.” 

“But you—” Remus tugs at his trousers, bringing them up just enough for you to see the light pink script around his ankle. “Did you know?” 

Any thoughts you’d had of attempting levity sputter out in the face of his upset. “Yeah,” you admit. “I knew.” 

“For how long?” 

“Not a long time.” 

“What’s—when did—” Remus passes a hand over his face. He often looks weary, you’ve noticed, or exasperated, but you’ve never seen him so frazzled. A worm of guilt wriggles in your gut. “Where’s yours?” 

You take a breath, beginning to loosen your tie and unbutton your shirt. As flustered as Remus already is, his face grows a tad pinker. You roll your eyes. 

“Fuck off, Lupin, I’m not undressing for you.” 

“You’re rather keen on saying that, aren’t you?” he mutters. “It’s a wonder I didn’t find you before now.” 

You unbutton just enough to pull your collar to the side, showing the words written in pink beneath your clavicle. 

“Do you…” he reads aloud before trailing off, mouthing the words to himself. His eyes flicker up to yours. “I remember that. That was months ago.” 

You rebutton your top, shrugging. “Yeah.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?” 

“I think that’s obvious.” You focus on your tie to avoid looking at him. “It’d give me away fairly quickly, wouldn’t it?” 

“And?” When you don’t say anything, Remus blows out a breath. “Why wouldn’t you want me to know?” 

“I didn’t want you to find out about us,” you say honestly. Not caring if it stings. 

When you glance up, you see that it has. The pinch of Remus’ brows radiates hurt. “You didn’t think I deserved to?” he asks you. 

You shake your head. “I’m sorry. I just wasn’t ready.” 

“Ready for what?” 

A breathless little laugh leaves you. “For everything. For any of it.” It feels like your insides are shriveling, and all you can do is look at Remus, pleading for his help. “I didn’t think I’d find my soulmate this early. I’m still trying to figure out my own shit. I don’t—I don’t know anything about love, or relationships, and I’m not ready to start making decisions about my life based on someone else. Doesn’t it scare you?” 

Remus has stepped closer, into a sheet of sunlight coming in through one of the hallway’s tall windows. It makes his amber eyes appear warm and melty. Even when they’re narrowed at you, they’re melting.

“It doesn’t scare me,” he says frankly. “I’m not asking you to move in with me straight after school, or change your plans to suit mine. I don’t think it has to be all or nothing like that.” 

You can feel your heart bumping in your stomach. “No?” 

“No.” Remus’ expression gentles. “It’s not like we’re shackled with each other now. Having a soulmate, it’s still a choice, isn’t it?” 

“I don’t know,” you admit, voice softening. You’ve never known anyone who’s talked about it that way before. Every soulmate meeting story you’ve been told has ended in them starting their new lives together, bound in harmony for the rest of their days. 

“I think it’s a choice,” Remus murmurs. “I’m not ready to change my life, either. But I’d like to get to know you, if you’re alright with it. We could take it slow.” 

You wet your lips. “You mean as friends for now?” 

He offers you a small smile. “It’s somewhere to start, isn’t it?” 

You nod, strangely breathless. You feel as if your life might be changing already, but despite all your misgivings you’re alright with this bit. 

“Oh, come on.” Remus’ lips curl some more. “Don’t do that again. I know you can still talk.” 

“I’m afraid I might tell you to fuck off again,” you manage. 

Remus’ laughter is unexpected and bright, and lovely enough that you instantly want to make him do it again. 

“You’re welcome to,” he says, warmly. “I think I’m starting to like it, from you.” 

[garfieldsladybird]

If you have Spotify reblog this and tag what your number one song on your “on repeat” playlist is.

[garfieldsladybird]

it really is crazy how quickly people were willing to just let chatgpt do everything for them. i have never even tried it. brother i don't even know if it's just a website you go to or what. i do not know where chatgpt actually lives, because i can decide my own grocery list.

[garfieldsladybird]

Born to be a book character, forced to be a writer