#✧ ┊ out of character. / ◜ ❝ out of the lab ❞ ◞

[angelltheninth]

When Arcane Men Get Jealous

Pairing: Viktor, Jayce, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Finn, Marcus, Loris, Steb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, jealousy, possessive behavior, being protective, kissing in public, biting, holding hands, public display of affection, canon typical violence, suggestive

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Would die if they were jealous over me. Melt into a puddle. Gone.

When Viktor gets jealous he gets a bit more withdrawn than he usually is. Not that he was ever a social butterfly, however he was always more open and happy to talk when it was with you. So his behavior is odd, he even seems to get quieter whenever you walk into the room. Like he's trying to remove himself from you with silence.

"I am not avoiding you. Look, there has been a lot to do for the past week, I'm sorry if you got a bad impression but I was simply busy. If you want more company, go ask Jayce, or Skye, I'm sure they will be more than happy to entertain you, darling."

Viktor is short with his answers, saying as little as possible to minimize the amount of time he spends talking to you. Not because he doesn't want to talk to you, he loves talking to you, but if he keeps talking there's a chance he might say something he's going to regret. And end up hurting you.

"There you go again with these ridiculous accusations. You won't leave it alone will you? So now it's my fault that your project is running late? I would have been happy to help but someone was too busy talking with... you know what, nevermind. You're right, we both have a lot to do, so let's just drop this conversation and focus on work."

If you keep getting in the way of his work, Viktor will eventually come to a breaking point. Him not being able to work is only adding to his emotions, and he's never been the best at dealing with them. While he doesn't exactly yell at you, it's very rare that he ever raises his voice there's a notable frustration in his words, and pain, fear that you'd leave.

"If I'm being so unreasonable then leave. Go. Have fun. I know it's not idea to be cooped up in the lab all the time. There are so many more things to do out there. if you... want to go with other people I suppose I can't stop you, nor can I stop my own jealousy. How am I being even more unreasonable? I know you wouldn't leave me without talking about it. Look... I do not... want you to leave, working is more fun with you. But am I truly all that you want? Me? This lab? Because you're all I want. All that I can think of."

When Jayce gets jealous he keeps invading your personal space when you're around the person or people he's jealous of. His behavior is nothing innapropriate or pushy. It's just his arm around your waist, just him bringing you that drink you wanted, just him bragging about you a bit too loud and saying how much he loves you.

"You really are great, babe. How in Runterra did I ever find a beauty like you huh? What's that bashfulness for now, I always praise you, and I'm never gonna stop. You're my girl right? I can be a proud boyfriend and talk you up every once in a while."

Physical affection a big deal to Jayce and a way he shows he cares but also a giveaway to his jealousy. He holds your hand longer, his eyes flicker between you and the one he's jealous off, his smile is a bit more nervous when he has to leave you alone. Then there are his kisses, not as gentle, not a little, quick peck on the edge of your lips but a real kiss, lips pressed against yours until you let him know you need air.

"Got a bit carried away there. Ah, sorry, I can't resist you sometimes. All the time. Do you expect me to when you wear lipstick like that? Makes your lips look like they're made to be kissed. By me specifically. I'd kiss you all night long, for the rest of our lives and never get tired of it."

Jayce keeps denying that he's jealous when you bring it up in a teasing way. Logically there's no reason to get jealous, everyone knows your relationship is doing great, in fact you're hardly ever fighting and even when you are it doesn't last too long. How does he turn that part of his brain off? How can he not get jealous when all those people look at you the way he looks at you?

"They're always looking at you. How can you not notice? It's so obvious. You don't notice because... you're only looking at me? That doesn't even make sense! Of course they're looking, you're breathtaking everywhere you go. I just hope that wherever you go, you'll always take me with you, because I want to be by your side forever."

Ekko often jokes about being jealous so you don't pick up on him actually being jealous. A little jealousy is fine but not when it's getting in the way of his missions and operations with his team. He'd been a bit distracted in the past, by one of the Firelights flying too close to you, so he pushed his way between you two.

"It was the formation! Which you would have remembered if you weren't too busy chatting. Come on, Firefly, get your head in this. Otherwise you're gonna make your leader jealous. Wouldn't want that right? What if... what if you get demoted for it? Hey! Ow! I wouldn't demote you, who would listen to all my plans?"

When you have free time together Ekko makes sure to spend as much time with you as possible. If you're together all the time there's less chance that someone else will swoop in and flirt with you. He would never describe his behavior as being clingy, all he wants is to spend free time with his girlfriend. That is perfectly normal behavior.

"What do you say we go out to get some food? We don't have to spend all our time here. Not like the tree is gonna burn down if we're away for a couple of hours right? Besides it's been a while since it was just you and me all alone. Miss being alone with you. Don't you miss it too?"

If the person he's jealous of ever puts you in danger in any way Ekko will go off on them. Harder than he scolded others in the past. He might let some of his jealousy show then, but he storms off, well flies off before you can talk to him. As much as he wants to be alone he also makes room for you on his hoverboard when you float down next to him.

"Shouldn't have went off on them like that. I know, you don't gotta say it, I'll say I'm sorry. Let cool off a bit. You'd think that if they were flirting with you that much they could have been looking out a bit better. I'm always looking out for you. Maybe a bit too much. Sorry if I've been weird about it lately. Would you forgive me if I took you on a romantic hoverboard ride?"

No one wants to piss off a big man like Vander by flirting with his wife. Everyone values their life and their bones too much. But... they stare at you. Quite openly actually. You see it, and you bet he sees it too. He sees everything that's happening at his bar and he won't stand for someone ogling his wife, even if he has to get aggressive about it.

"It's my damn bar, I've got the right to break the table with their heads when they're looking at ya like that. Tell ya what, a lot more people would avoid this place if I started beating up every asshole that looks at ya wrong. Only reason I don't is cause I don't want ya to be mad at me after."

He hasn't banned anyone from his bar in a very long time. Vander knows he tolerates a lot, this is Zaun, and some people don't have the best manners, that's not exactly their fault. But on the other hand if they start something with him then he will finish it. When he tells them to stop looking at you like you like you were one of Babette's workers and they get in his face he will pick them up and throw them out.

"Bastards had it coming. I tried to be nice, then they had to go and call ya names. Ain't no way in hell I'm gonna let anyone insult my wife. Not here, not on the streets, not anywhere. I went there and I wanted to talk to them, tell them to fuck the hell off, they were the ones who started getting violent. So I responded in kind."

Vander calls you over to the bar a bit more often if he sees a particular table is trying to monopolize you. He carries some of the drinks over, the food plates too, or he simply walks up behind you when one of the guys is getting flirty. Seeing his imposing, huge frame behind you, his muscles bulging, is enough to get most to back off you.

"See, darlin', I can talk things out just fine. When people are being smart about it that is. Might have to stop selling so much booze in this place, then they won't be so bold with ya. Ya are a pretty sight, I can't say otherwise. But ya are a pretty sight for me, not them, ain't that right? Mhm. I know, I'm all yer's too."

Silco never ever says he's jealous of anyone. He is the most powerful man in all of Zaun, everyone is scared of him and with good reason. As the Eye of Zaun he knows when people are looking, talking too, and might even try to touch you. Those people are often payed a not so nice visit by his men.

"I did hear about that gang, yes. It's very unfortunate that they don't know how to keep their noses where they don't belong. It's not that big of a loss on our end. There are a hundred people who can do their work, and better. All that matters is that they won't even have to think about not touching you again."

He rarely has to get his own hands dirty when he gets jealous. All it takes is him saying who the target or targets are and he makes them dissapear from Zaun. That doesn't always have to be deadly, but if they're really dumb it is. If Silco feels that you're in some kind of danger then he will keep you close by. He tries to distract you from seeing he's jealous.

"All I'm saying is that we could take a break from work. Sevika and Jinx can handle a week of it. And you and me can lock ourselves up in our home and not come out. The bedroom works perfectly fine too, if you'd rather spend our time in there. And what is it that I'm doing, darling? Jealous? You are an observant one. I wouldn't want you any other way."

The only time Silco will threaten someone in person is if that someone is bold enough to flirt with you in front of them. He can scare people within an inch of their life just by talking to them, he's not just a good businessman, and some people tend to forget that. He has Zaun in the palm of his hand, and everyone in it.

"He did not actually piss himself. Did he actually. Hm, I wasn't look at him anymore to be honest. He was spineless, surprising given he talked to you like he did. Guess he was thinking with his other head a bit too much for his own good. Why are you looking at me that way? Ah, I see. Looks like someone enjoyed watching me put a scumbag into his place a bit too much."

Since Finn isn't someone who would take anything lying down he will be damned before he sees someone coming onto his woman and not do anything about it. He might have a certain charm about him but that doesn't mean he's not ready to makes heads roll the moment when someone crosses any kind of line with you. Imaginary or otherwise.

"Hah, did you see that doll? As soon as I threw one punch he went down. All his buddies ran like rats. Left him all alone there. After all that tough talk and he couldn't even defend himself. Serves him right. He's lucky all I did was break his nose when he flirted with you. I wasn't even that far away."

Finn will make out with you in front of who ever he is jealous of just to prove a point to them. And while he has you moaning, has your head buried against his neck and your body running hot he will look at the other person and stick his tongue out at them, right before making a V with his fingers and putting his tongue between them. He's vulgar but it gets the point across very well.

"All these people looking at what's mine. Now, I can't have that right? I love that you're showing off your body, it's a great body, you know how much I love it. But sometimes I want to keep you away from prying eyes. And if I can't the least I can do is give them a show. Make them know I'm the only one who can touch you."

His jacket is a signature part of his outfit, but Finn will let you wear it. Hell, he will walk over and drape it over your shoulders while not even looking at whoever you're talking to. Sometimes they're not worth looking at when he can look at the pretty way you blush as you touch his hand that's lingering on your shoulder.

"Thought you looked a bit cold there. Keep this on all night. Later on I'll help you warm up my way, a much more fun way. Don't even worry about your perfume getting all into this, love having your scent all over me. And by tomorrow you're gonna be wearing all of my marks."

There are a lot of people in the Enforcers who tease Marcus about having such a pretty wife. He knows you're pretty, but he doesn't like that the department is noticing it so much as well. Not that there's any way for him to hide it, or that he wants you to hide it, that would be a real crime.

"I was not pouting. That is so childish. I was glaring at them. Well, they were the ones who stared first. You visit me at work, like that's such a big deal. We're married, honey, I pick you up from work too. Why is it such a big deal here? I think they're just trying to get a rise out of me."

Won't deny that he's feeling jealous or shy away from showing it. When Marcus notices any of his men flirting with you he makes them work extra hard that day, he gives them more paperwork, something that everyone hates there, or assigns them to the toughest jobs that he knows will take them days to complete. He can't help but chuckle when you visit again and they're too tired to flirt with you, they just say hello.

"What do you mean I'm picking on them? Of course not. You know how hard it is to deal with all these extra cases. Someone has to take on a few more. No, the fact that it's the same Enforcers who gave you flowers that one time has nothing to do with it. You think it does? And do you have evidence of this accusation?"

Marcus isn't shy about kissing you in front of the whole department. If that's what it takes to send them all a clear message to back off. It's always perfectly chaste kisses, but he does make sure that everyone hears him say he loves you when you leave. He smirks when eyes turn to him and he wishes them all a good rest of their day.

"Now you call me petty. All of these accusations and you still don't have any evidence. That's not a very good way to have a case. You've been keeping count have you? Oh. You... actually have been keeping count? I'm guilty? Fine, you got me, you got me. Maybe... that was a little petty of me, but I'm not sorry."

Every time Loris is jealous it's almost impossible for him to hide that fact. He's a big guy, nothing about him is easy to his, not even his emotions. And he's loud, so every time he huffs, mumbles something, or grunts you hear it. Your eyes meet and he looks away, his hand grasping yours and running his thumb over the back of your hand.

'They were staring at you a bit too much for my liking, pretty girl. If they were as tough as they pretend they were they should have held their ground more. Proves they were all bark and no bite. People like that really get on my nerves, and then they talk to my girl like she's single."

Loris invites you to have lunch with him quite often, even more often when he gets jealous of someone who works with him. Dealing with them in any other way would be unprofessional of him, and might get him in trouble. This way he gets to avoid that, avoid them, and spend a nice lunch date with you. No matter how you look at it he's the real winner here.

"Looks so good. But if you keep looking at me like that I might get hungry for something else besides the food. Just try shifting the blame on me when you know exactly how you're looking at me right now. I wouldn't risk it at work, but... if you showed up with a few hickeys on your neck it might get the rest of the department to stop flirting with you."

As much as he tries to make his jealousy go away it's not easy. Loris knows he should be an example for others, after all he had been an Enforcer for a long time, he can't just let his emotions get the better of him. Hard to keep those emotions down when they concern you. If nothing else works he will intimidate people. Easy enough for him. But he would rather that be a last resort.

"If he wasn't ready to throw fists and words at me then he shouldn't have thrown flirty words at you. He should be able to back himself up if he's gonna be saying stuff like that. All I did was pick him up and throw him outside. Hey, I might get in a bit of trouble for it, but at least he'll leave you alone from now on. I'd risk my badge for you if I have to, you know that."

Since he is the quiet type Steb shows his emotions and jealousy is one that he works hard to surpress. Every time he notices that someone is standing a little too close to you he walks over and looks at you, lovingly, then he looks at the other person with a glare, a deadly one. All the while he's standing shoulder to shoulder with you.

"Come now, angelfish, they weren't even worth your time. We both know they only had one thing in mind when they were talking to you. I could see it in their eyes. I don't appreciate that they looked at you like that. And I know you don't either. So I felt like I had to step in."

He is very physical with his jealousy. Steb lets his eyes and touches linger a few moments longer when he wants to make a point to someone. While he knows you don't hate it he also doesn't want to come off as too jealous or too possessive over you. You can take care of yourself and he loves that about you, he's watched you put people in their place often, but there are times where he can't hold himself back.

"I could feel your fingers interlocking with mine. You wanted me to stand close to you when they weren't leaving you alone. Would you have raised your voice if I hadn't walked over? It would be amusing to see it. But I think those kisses we shared also sent an equally powerful message. You didn't have to bit me though."

Steb nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck when he's feeling really, really jealous of someone. He makes it look less possessive than it is, pretending like he's overhearing something you have to say, and then pushing himself just a little bit closer. His cold lips make contact with your neck, sending shivers down your body before he brushes your lips with his thumb and leaves with a smirk.

"That ought to be enough. I could have done more but marking you in public might have been a step too far. We can enjoy things like that in private however. I enjoy being close to you in any context, and if it makes others realize you're not looking for anyone because you've already got a man then I enjoy it even more."

[nikyu0]

Are there any fun shenanigans that unfold after the bond in the avatar au? after the angst dies ofc

I actually still have a lot of ideas with the other arcane characters that happen before the bond! Although ldk lf I'm gonna be able to draw them all, because some of the ideas are very lengthy. So, I might as well practice my writing!

One of the ideas involves how Jayce and Viktor begin their relationship with the tribe in the first place.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Jayce and Viktor have been out on their research trips for a couple of days now. Sergent Caitlyn Kiramman, a fellow avatar driver with combat training, accompanies them for protection. Although they have been exploring the deeper forest for a while, all they have encountered so far was peaceful fauna, yet none of the natives.

"I wasn't expecting that we were so good at hiding our presence to not even spot one na'vi." Jayce remarks as he tries to keep up with Viktor's pace.

"They've known we are here the moment we got off the military base." Viktor assures him while looking down at his tablet. "Afterall, we are in their domain. Just because we don't see them, does not mean they are not here, no?"

The eeriness of Victor's comment made Caitlyn's ears twitch, she couldn't help but look up at the thick tree crowns and scanning through them. As they continued through the forest, she grabbed her firearm tighter.

The trio reaches a cliff that opens a view to the base of the Hallelujah Mountains. All of them in awe as they watch the floating rocks defy gravity right infront of their eyes.

Unfortunately, the devices that were helping them navigate the forest so far, start to act up because of the strong magnetic fields surrounding the mountains. The group begins to consider returning to the base to prepare for tomorrow, when they suddenly hear the sound of a cry, a na'vi battle cry.

They have been spotted by 4 na'vi flying their Ikran, the one leading the patrol being Ekko (in this AU refered as "Eko", is a young warrior na'vi from the tribe that Jayce and Viktor are going to be working with later on. Although smaller than his fellow tribe members, he is known for his skilled flying, amazing scouting and leadership qualities).

He was informed by Vi, who suspected that dreamwalkers started roaming around the forest but was unsure how deep they might enter. Confiming her suspicions, Eko spots the trio too deep for his comfort in the tribes territories, on one of his flying patrols.

He was about to descend to confront them when he noticed the outsiders strangly waving at him in panic and the one with the weapon aming past him. Eko turns back to the sudden calls of his fellow tribemates. That is when he sees the Toruk above him, who was diving straight down to Eko, claws ready to grab him. An air chase through the mountains happens and he finally loses Toruk when he flies through the dense forest which annoyingly results in him falling off his ikran. Although the fall was softened by the big leaves, it still results in him getting injured enough to not make it back alone. His Ikran and fellow tribemates not hearing his calls for help.

That is when he gets discovered by our avatar trio. In an attempt to scare them off, he tries to stand up and grab his knife but yelps in pain. Viktor and Jayce try to calm him down to get closer to examine his wound, but it takes a while, especially with Caitlyn and her firearm facing him. Eko does finally let the two scientists inspect him when they start speaking na'vi and tell Caitlyn to step back.

Viktor tries to create a temporary brace out of branches for Eko but is unable to break the thick wood, frustrated at the tools he has at hand.

"Ugh, we don't have the right equipment here! Only if the labs were closer..." "May I try?" Jayce squats besides Viktor, who states that it is useless but does not stop Jayce from taking the branch. Jayce inspects the thick stick while holding it in his gloved hands, determining how much force he would need to use. "Jayce, I really don't think-." He snaps it with ease before Viktor could finish his sentence.

"Oh! That was easier than I expected... You sure this works as a good support? Maybe I should look for another one?"

Both Viktor and Eko were baffled at what they just witnessed, it wasn't unrealistic but it was definitely surprising to see. The hardness of that branch could compare to a thinner metal rod, and there you have Jayce just snap it in half with no trouble. He continues to ramble about the branch unaware of Viktor's perplexion. Eko simply muttering a low "Tewti.." (translation "what the heck...").

(Turns out Jayce is much stronger than the average na'vi, his Avatar builds muscle much more easily. Similar to Jake Sully.)

The 3 help Eko back to the tribe, where they are already expected. A crowd forms around them, many wary but many curious about the dreamwalkers since this clan had no prior interactions with them, besides through stories from other tribes. Before the leader and tsahik aproaches them, a na'vi, Jinx (in the AU refered as Tsyensk, a peculiar but very creative and innovative na'vi with a strong connection to Eywa, she usually keeps her distance from the tribe in self-exile because of her emotional unpredictability) jumps down from above the trees to check on Eko.

Caitlyn furrows her brow and points out to the two scientists in english that the na'vi girl has been following them since the they found Eko, what none of the 3 expected is that Tsyensk would reply back in english!

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

•Disease

Viktor x God/ess!reader

Synopsis-Viktor is in the verge of death, only a forgotten god can bring him back; what’s his fate?

cw- character death, bad writing, god!reader, writer watched what if when she started this, sexual undertones, kissing, reader is referred as ‘you’, uhhh I gen don’t know what else to put 😭

“I could be the doctor, I can cure your disease…”

Mortals. Primitive, selfish beings, they take so much but give so little. They don’t know it always comes back to bite them in the end.

Jayce eyes shoot open taking in painful gasps of air, delirious he stands up on wobbly legs. Looking around he’s horrified by the carnage that surrounded him. Where the council room once stood only rubble and mangled corpses of the councilors take its place. His breathing quickened, Mel. He searched frantically finding her incoherent, he helped her to her feet before his heart stopped. Viktor.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Jayce cursed himself before he realized he found his best friend, his partner's body; broken and bloody. Jayce ran towards the dying man. “No, no Vik come on stay with me.” The Talis boy cried, ripping Viktors dirty button, pushing up and down on his chest, hearing the crack of a rib with every compression he gave. His vision went blurry with tears. Viktor couldn’t die, Jayce wouldn’t let him. This isn’t working. I need to get to the lab. Was all Jayce could think, lifting Viktor off the floor racing to their lab.

He threw Viktor down, going through everything he possibly could to save him. There was nothing. How could this be? All those endless nights in the lab, countless nights gone with sleep, how many times they had to run over their morals for the greater good. How could this be? Jayce slammed his hands down on the stretcher Viktors body lies. He hadn’t realized he began crying again. And this time he couldn’t stop. “Please, please, anyone save him. Save my partner. Save Viktor.” He cried out into the air, it was insane, he knew nothing could hear him, help him. He was alone.

•

•

•

“Save him…. Save Viktor.”

Your ears rang over and over, the same phrase repeated over and over and over again until it was scorched into your brain. “Fine. Fine, Fine!” You grimaced walking up the invisible stairs into a room unlike any other; a room full of mirrors all differing in shapes and sizes.

You could see into any universe through these mirrors , anywhere anytime, everywhere all at once. You flowed through time and space, keeping the contingency in balance; but the punny little mortal kept disturbing you. Looking through one of the mirrors you touched the middle of the portal closing your eyes focusing all your energy to find that one little speck. Your terrestrial energy hummed around you; your plane of existence shaking all around you as if a glass ball under pressure about to shatter. Gotcha.

The fog of the portal disappeared and in it replaced a beautifully devastating scene, where one single action could create a new branch of reality. But this man doesn’t seem to be doing anything, but cry.

He was quite pitiful. The other man, the one he cried over, close to death if not already there. An essence radiated all through his dying body, you could feel the power he could hold. What a waste of potential.

You listened closely as the male pleaded and pleaded. “Save him,” he wailed. “I’ll do anything, give anything.” But it wasn’t him you wanted.

You bargained with yourself, if you saved the dying man you could have another soul, another disciple. But then your oath, if you broke then who knows what the Watchers would do.

“But, the Watchers haven’t been heard from in millenniums. I’m sure one life does not matter.” You mutter to yourself taking in a deep breath before you reach into the mirror grabbing Viktors hand and pull his soul from his body and bring him into your realm.

Viktor awoke gasping for air, he looked around panic feeling out his nerves. There was nothing, actually nothing but white, he was in a blindingly white room with no doors apparently. He looked down and saw his body, that was definitely not his. Where his metal protected body once was a white void takes his place, it didn’t feel like his body but a replica of what once was. Just as he went to find a way out a voice caught him. “Finally you’re awake I was wondering when you would—“

“Who are you?” Viktor cut you off from giving your gracious welcome speech, he studied you as you gathered yourself from his rude barbaric homosapien ways. You were indescribable, you went above all meanings of magic or logic he has ever known. Your body was like his but different. Colors of deep hue swished through your glorious temple, unlike his body yours blended with the void as if you bent it to your will. You floated around him ten times his size, terrifyingly beautiful.

“I am everything and nothing.”

“What do you mean?”

You don’t answer him, only swaying back and forth studying the statue in front of you, having truly forgotten how little human bodies can be.

“I heard your mortal man beg for your life, pleading for your soul's salvation.. I can give you salvation, Viktor.” You hummed only bringing Viktor deeper into your symphony of madness. “I can cure your disease.”

“What disease.” If all he can say through all this lunacy. “The disease of death.” You continued voiced strained almost as of this was exciting you, the longer you went on the clearer everything became, the blast killed him and this must be his hell.

“If I am to live again there will be a logical– a right way to do it.” Viktor tried to rebuttal your divine interference.

“Nothing can save you, no medicine, nor any human magic. But I can be your anecdote” You moved so fast Viktor couldn’t even catch your face as you moved back and forth.

“What.. I don’t– I don’t believe this.”

“I can make you believe.” You suddenly disappeared just for Viktor to feel a hand drag down his back.

“You are the flesh maggots adore,” you whisper into his ear, hands feeling his body up. “But I can make you so much more.” Your voice entranced him, enchanting his soul. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ll transcend any and everything you’ve ever done on that little speck of a planet of yours.”

“How?”

Gosh the questions have mortals always been this annoying?

“I’ll merge the smallest piece of my soul and I'll exchange and you will give me yours.” You explain an exaggerated smile stitched on your small, your face muscles strain he was concerned for you, they would surely cramp if you continued.

“My what?”

“Oh my— your soul. What else?” You look at him as if he was an insolent child and to you he was.

Viktor, well he was calculating whether or not this could be real or not. How out of 1 million probabilities this is the afterlife he was stuck with and if he was lucky this is all a dream and he’ll awake in a hospital, maybe a little sore, but definitely not survived by a forgotten god. As if hearing his thoughts the creature before him pushed him on the ground, straddling him.

“Forgotten’s a harsh word, I’d like to think of it as temporarily disposed of. And like I said before,” you spoke softly, hands caressing his shoulders and face, Viktor’s stomach clenched an unfamiliar and unwelcome warmth filling his body. “No human medicine will work for you. Only I can help you, so let me cure you.” You looked into his eyes, no deeper. It was as if you were connecting with his very being, so he definitely wasn’t thinking with the next words he uttered.

“Fine.”

He gave in way quicker than you thought, you smiled delighted. Getting off of him quickly and lead him to another place of whatever plane of existence you were on. This time there was one thing, a huge pitch black temple, the sculpture looks as if made at the depths of Tartarus. It made one quite unsettled how off it looked compared to the heavenly light that could burn one’s eyes out blazing behind it.

But one thing Viktor was thinking, was how big this place is.

When you two reached the temple and he looked back to you, you had a much more serious expression, your angelic features scrunching up to make an unnatural scowl. He could tell you were never meant to be unhappy.

“Kneel.” Your instruction cut through his ears, slicing his eardrums. Your demand was quite painful. You looked back remorse painting your eyes. But you had to remain in control.

As you knelt beside him you dipped your hand into a golden dish filled with water as pitch as the temple. He hadn’t even realized what was in front of them. An altar. Dawned with candles that never melted, flowers that never wilted, fruit that would never rot. Unfamiliar Oil aromas mixed into his nostrils. Four cups each different in size and style sit on their own corner on the altarpiece. Who knew immortal beings have their own gods?

“Please ancient gods, forgive us for our mortal sins…” you whispered an unintelligible prayer, dipping in the gold dish four separate times kissing your hands in between the dips. You poured all different elements along with the water into a different golden cup. Then you grabbed each chalice and poured blood-like tar out of each speaking what Viktor assumed were names, that even he couldn’t pronounce.

“As you have sacrificed for us we shall for you.”

That caught his attention. He couldn’t even speak when you grab his hand and without a knife cut his hand open with the tip of your fingernail. “W-wha…” He couldn’t even speak as you did the same, your blood pouring out the same as he. He held his hand hissing at the burning pain and you just groaned, snatching his hand back. “Stop being a baby.” You say healing the cut with a wave of your hand over his.

“Now drink.” She said, bringing the golden chalice to his lips deaconing him on. His lips touched the liquid gulping four times, it was bitter and tasted like death.

He watched you as you downed the rest, the red drink dripping down your chest. You look back at him, a new ferocity freed from your soul, grabbing the sides of his perfectly aligned face and smash your lips into his. Viktor was taken aback, he tried to push you away but you were too strong and suddenly he found himself falling into the kiss. Your warm muscle found his lips parting them biting his lip so hard he bleed the metallic taste feeling up your mouth and before he could try and push away it felt as if something was being shoved down his throat. It was excruciating, excessive, euphoric.

As you merged yourself using all your will to not consume his entire being, Viktor felt as if he was at the top of the world. His eyes rolled back in ecstasy, never having felt this much pleasure before it was unreal, unnatural and he needed more.

He grabbed your arms pulling your inhabited body closer, his body sparked a new energy, a powerful energy all through your body, it made you lust for more. Your soul's powerful emergence created a light, The light that was both of you, burned brighter and brighter until it combusted stabbing the white voided room into a black hole.

And then Viktor was gone.

•

•

•

“They broke the oath.” A deep, dark voice spoke.

“This cannot be.” A jittery one shuttered.

“An act of rebellion I tell you. Who knows any deity now will think they can do whatever they want no respect—“ An old shriveled on spouted on and on.

“Quiet.” Said the fourth voice, all falling silent . “They will be dealt with accordingly, but first let’s see what they are planning…..”

Mortals are not the only ones who take things and never give back, Gods are the only real selfish ones; but they never know until the very end.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s6 episode 9 thoughts

still giggling and kicking my feet after last episode…

but i need to lock in this evening, because it seems that skinner is in grave danger this episode. from a MYSTERIOUS DISEASE. these things KEEP happening. how many secret diseases can be developed in one universe? what did he get into this time?!!! how are the agents going to hear about this?!! because i don’t think they are even allowed to talk to him!! and how will they save him?!

we must dive in to find out, but i assume that the msr pre-relationship honeymoon is over… for now. maybe they can pick it up another day. 

post-episode thoughts: i need to put the skinner and mulder/scully dynamic in a blender and drink it like a shot. scully grabbing his hand... mulder actually calling him sir...

i need to go sit down, bro. i need to pontificate.

we are in a hospital with skinner. “what’s wrong with him is he’s going to die”, says this doctor. OH!!!

wait… agent scully is his emergency contact… oh my god… hold on… i need a minute for this…

(author's note: after watching the episode, i don't think she is actually his emergency contact, but at the TIME, i, the viewer, had no way of knowing that she had been the one to accurately diagnose his problem and propose treatment, and was therefore who the doctor wanted to contact- a side effect of starting the episode in media res. still! that world where i imagined she was his emergency contact was so alluring, i want to retain the brief time i spent there for historical accuracy)

AUGH. HE IS PULSATING……. NASTY!!! NASTY and VILE!!! poor sweet man. but that is disgusting.

i repeat my grounding mantra: shoutout to the props and makeup team.

bleughhhhh… this one might be rough for me, if such grossness levels continue.

skinner’s whispering!!! he says a name and then flatlines!!

why won’t the doctor shock him back to life…. she says to let him go??????????????

is this ethically allowed? i mean, did it say in his file “DNR”, or did he whisper “DNR” or something? but like, he said a name, and DNR is not a name. so. why aren't they reviving him?

man… dr. cabrera… i’m suspicious.

shortened intro: i will never grow used to you.

skinner is narrating!!! IS HE REALLY GONNA DIE??? I DON’T WANT TO SEE THAT!!!! he says this is the course he chose. defending a center which cannot hold. so death chose for him.

THEY’RE COVERING HIM WITH A SHEET???????

WHAT!!!!!!!

is this a contract thing… like he’s barely been here this season, did he need out of the contract, so they killed him off…….?

i don't want that, man. we don't need that.

okay. jump back 24 hours in time. he is going to box!!! skinner is pummeling this guy named dre, but it seems dre gets some good shots in. that, or skinner is starting to die early on.

ah! he is all dizzy and gets knocked right out!!! so they take him to the hospital and he eventually comes to. 

why is he getting a creepy robot call saying “it’s in you”…? it says he has 24 hours. “you are already dead” 

WHO FROM THE GYM IS TRYING TO KILL HIM????

or is it this doctor plant gentleman tending to him who is behind this…?

dr. plant says there is nothing wrong with him except the bruise on his ribs that skinner does not remember getting. i guess he did get knocked around pretty well, but i feel like he would remember a massive rib bruise

mulder is tossing pencils at his desk!! why is he still in the office at 10 at night?? he must not want to go home. but skinner is here, too. spread out on the couch with his shirt barely on.

“what is it, agent mulder?”, skinner asks. and mulder has some tact for once, and does not point out that he looks like he’s dying, choosing instead to settle on “just thought i’d poke my head in and say hey”. a very even statement to make in such a situation.

mulder jokes about him having a hangover, and skinner says he couldn’t see and probably shouldn’t drive. which gets mulder to ask “you going to be alright, sir?” <- OH! the sir. they’re always in some weird power struggle... but now he called him sir. 

mulder calls scully down at 11:09 pm, and i know she was probably like "wtf does he need me for at this hour..."

all the lights are out because his eyes hurt, so mulder angles a desk lamp so she can examine his bruise which is just. so. AUGH. to me. i cannot place it. 

there's something deeply intimate about your beloved agent 1 getting you settled in the dark to accommodate for your pain, and then dangling a desk lamp so beloved agent 2 can examine your mystery wounds. while you lay there. in agony.

his bruise has white lines through it- OH!!! GROSS! he grunts when scully touches it, and mulder tells her about the mysterious phone call warning of his imminent death

scully is NOT going to let him sit up. YEAH! you tell him, doctor!

ooooo... mulder thinks there could be a conspiracy, and skinner hits him with a “oh, this is about you” <- low blow, buddy!! “you are so PARANOID, mulder” and historically he has had reasons to be!

scully points out that while THEY may not be on the x files, he still is. and he is therefore a target of the wrath of mystery syndicate men.

skinner does not want to answer their questions. and they want to ask very detailed questions.

mulder seeks clarification that he woke up alone... i see he did not figure things out with the wife. yet. there is still time. of course, unless he actually WILL die.

oh! but their questions are leading to him remember something!!

he recalls being grabbed in the hall by a guy who wanted to know what time it was…. so they find him on the security footage!!

scully recognizes him!! his name is dr. kenneth orgel, and he’s a physicist!! yeah, she would know the famous physicists, lmao <3 (said with SO much love)

scully says he should lay down, but skinner needs revenge. well. you have two people at your disposal right here that are more than capable of helping you get revenge AND answers! so lay down.

skinner and mulder go to dr. orgel’s house… oooo…. he says he doesn’t know who skinner is. and he denies coming to see him earlier. and then shuts the door in their faces!!

mulder whips out his gun and tells skinner to go around back LMAOOO oh, he is not messing around!!!!

noooo!!! there are guys in there!!!! they take dr. orgel away!!! and they shoot after mulder!!! he manages to grab one of them, but dr. orgel gets taken away by the others.

meanwhile, skinner is getting worse and worse, and now his veins are getting all horrible while he’s hurt on the floor of dr. orgel's place!!

the dude they captured is speaking arabic, but he has diplomatic papers, so skinner says to let him go. he’s from tunisia, and his name is lazreg. hmm...

mulder says skinner needs to get to a hospital, but he refuses to listen!!!

scully is talking with dr. plant, who saw skinner in the hospital earlier. he doesn’t want her to have access to his blood samples without skinner's written consent, but she says we don’t have time and gets in there anyway, LMAO.

i love when she breaks the rules. because she loves the rules. but she also knows that sometimes we simply need to trample all over them to keep people from dying. and i admire that about her.

the blood… it’s… separating??? augh.

mulder is going through dr. orgel’s stuff, trying to find clues. oh… he finds a photo of him with a senator???

hospital updates: someone put pure carbon into skinner’s blood??? and it’s killing him somehow?! this seems to baffle scully and dr. plant alike. it’s multiplying!!! these little things in the blood are multiplying!!!!

mulder is going to visit the senator… is this the same senator he would visit in s2?? and we never got any answers as to what they were doing??

ohhh, the picture of the senator and dr. orgel was them holding a senate resolution- s.r. 819. aha! they said the episode title!! 

he says it’s a funding bill for the world health organization, and mulder says well, it’s gonna kill my friend!

yes, it is the senator he used to visit!!! he tries to tell him to get lost!! “my intention is to save lives, fox, but i can’t save his”

so he somehow secured a ton of funding for the WHO in exchange for killing skinner?? EVIL!

who is this freak………

you cannot deter mulder for long, even if you show him out of your house. 

skinner is following one of the other dudes into some diplomatic area, but he is still getting worse and worse!! his veins are all blue now!!! and someone shoots!!!

but skinner dodges!!! HAHA! yes!!! he gets out and shoots back at this tunisian diplomat!!! 

but his vision is getting all blurry and he’s stumbling!!!

YEAHHHHHHHH, someone hits the other guy with a car!!!!! is it mulder????? no, not mulder with the well-timed vehicular manslaughter, although that would have been interesting. but skinner falls down!!!!!! he totally collapses!!

scully is still analyzing his mystery blood. she found something!!! it’s creating a matrix!! multiplying and building dams in the vascular system!!!!

this is not good.

news comes in that skinner has been taken to a different hospital, and scully heads out to go find him.

augh… he is so blue…. are they going to cut his arm off???!

scully bursts in!!! they try to kick her out, but she cannot be scolded in this manner!! and they DO want to cut off both of his arms!!

“who the hell IS this woman?” <- you watch how you talk about MEDICAL DOCTOR SPECIAL AGENT SCULLY!!

she says that cutting his arms off won’t do a damn thing, and you had best get a scope into him NOW!

“look, if you want to save this man, listen to what i’m saying!” <-YEAHHHH!!!!! you better tell them!!

assertive doctor scully, you are so important to me

ohhh... he’s stirring awake, and she’s telling him it’ll be okay, and that mulder is figuring out who did this to him, and “we’re going to take good care of you, i promise, we’re going to do everything we can” OHHHHHHHHH…….

man… whenever they’re at each other’s hospital beds, i feel secret emotions. getting throwbacks to him visiting her after her cancer went into remission...... and her following him into the ambulance after that other dude tried to kill him... man...

the next morning, there is a weird noise in skinner’s office. it's mulder! he is going through all of his stuff!! he explains to skinner's secretary that the boss has been poisoned, and then rips open the classified envelope on her desk. i hope there are no legal consequences to this.

back at the hospital, scully is in red scrubs. she looks really nice in red scrubs. it makes me wonder, why are most other scrubs blue, but she gets these beautiful red ones? did she have them on hand? did she borrow some extra ones from the hospital? have we ever seen her in red scrubs before? is red her color?

and mulder is here…. she says there’s nothing they can do to help skinner, except keep cutting open his arteries (GAG) but! her eyes are so blue...

trying hard not to let her face distract me from the plot at hand, but it's difficult.

ohhhh… the bill was going to be voted on by the senate, but it needed skinner’s review and an analysis by dr. orgel… so did they just kill him to speed up the process??? because they knew he would shoot it down?

mulder thinks orgel came to tell skinner about the violation of export laws involving new technology.

“you know what that means?” “well, i think i might” 

... aliens? alien bee virus?

phone call time… it’s the electronic voice on skinner's cell!! saying they can’t stop it!! your time is almost up!! so it has to be someone in the hospital making the call!!!

mulder sees someone typing into this pad sort of thing… and he runs after the guy with the long hair!!! he pulls out his gun!!! and runs into the parking lot!!!

he nearly shoots a nurse in his hunt for this dude with the weird pad thingy, and then makes an effort to appear non-threatening. which was kinda cute. when a car pulls out. and it crashes somewhere?? but the dude driving it got away!!!

the senator gets a phone call!! saying the bill is in danger!! it’s the guy with the long hair who was typing on the pad thingy on the other end of the phone!! saying that dr. orgel believes his threats!! he says he can tell him where to find him???

what is this dude's end goal...?

they found hairs from a wig inside the car, which prompts a smartass remark from mulder. and tons of PCBs on the tires. maybe from an old power plant?

oooo, the senator is also rolling up to a power plant. he looks so out of place in his prim and proper coat while the pigeons fly in his face in this abandoned facility. and he finds dr. orgel on a cot!!! he also looks very very very sick with blue veins! 

dr. orgel says he needs water, but the guy who has the pad is turning up some sort of level thing, and he starts screaming!!! his pad says “orgel active”

woah, is this like a remote control disease?

scully comes in to talk to skinner…. she wants to try filtering all of the blood in his body, and lets him know that this is a risky procedure. OH... HE SAYS “I’M IN YOUR HANDS” OHHHH…

the surrender of it all... resting in the knowledge that she knows what she is doing... the total trust. wow...

“i think i owe you an apology, scully. you and mulder. i’ve been lying here, thinking… your quests… it should have been mine” “what do you mean?” “if i die now, i die in vain. i have nothing to show for myself. my life” “sir, you know that’s not true” “it is. i can see now that… i always played it safe. i wouldn’t take sides. wouldn’t let you and mulder…. pull me in” “you’ve been our ally more times than i can say” “not the kind of ally that i could’ve been” 

OH!!!! hang on....... he, too, is consumed by the Guilt... we knew he had Guilt re: Vietnam and past violence, but that he feels he could have done more for the agents is new information... especially since he was the one that made the deal with CSM to try and get scully saved...

but since mulder ended up being told about the chip thingy, maybe he feels like he didn't save the day and instead was tricked into doing CSM's dirty work... and he must think that he could have tried to argue for keeping them on the x files back in the first episode of s6, but he didn't... i'm emo.

she grabs his hands……. and he says he remembers!!!! he remembers the guy’s face!! he was at the gym!! and the hospital!! and he hit that diplomat guy with the car!! and he was there at the office when dr. orgel grabbed his arm!! the long-haired guy with the pad!! he’s on the tape!!

mulder arrives to the power plant and finds the senator’s car there…. hi, pigeons, you are so beautiful, but we have a problem at hand. mulder is strutting in…. but someone watches…. yeah, hold that little gun out, mulder. i love your little gun.

the senator announces that orgel is dead, and what he knows died with him.

OHHH YEAH!! SOME MULDER VIOLENCE!!! ROUGH THAT MAN UP!!

he is talking about nanotechnology… machines…. other words...

mulder says he will stop this AND expose the senator!!! but he keeps yelling that it’s too late.

don't test that man. he loves a righteous crusade.

which brings us back to the beginning of the episode, where dr. cabrera won’t shock skinner….. why do they just listen to her??? and not even try to fight her to save him??? 

the dude with the long hair and the pad is right outside, and he turns the settings back to 0…. and skinner comes back alive. who is this dude?!?

three weeks later, scully tells skinner his prognosis is excellent!!! and scully found the long-haired pad guy on the video tapes!! but skinner cannot identify him.

good news, though: the bill was withdrawn without explanation. so no WHO funding to install some other murder pads across the world

whoever this mystery long-haired pad man was, he killed one of his own to save skinner… so mulder still thinks it’s about the x files. mulder would need skinner's authority to keep investigating. 

but he says no!! scully is not pleased. they look scared and surprised to hear this. she must be mentally thinking "sir, this contradicts your deathbed statements"

where is skinner going now…? to his car… a likely place for a guy to go after work, but the music is scary, so i don’t think that’s where the story will end 

KRYCEK???? IN THE CAR?? he says he can push the button at anytime??? and skinner has been EXPECTING him??

he gets out of the car and leaves???

THE END?

so somehow, krycek has the technology that can restart his nanotechnology disease?

wait. WAS krycek the bearded guy? hold on. i have to go back. 

YES. he was. i paused at strategic times and noticed that was, in fact, his face. and then i guess he shaved down his face and took off his long wig, which must be why skinner denied being able to recognize him!! to keep the agents safe?? is that his goal!? 

man. KRYCEK!!! the rat bastard….

oh, i bet the eagle-eyed fans knew it was krycek the whole time and were not shocked at this reveal. maybe they even had seen leaked scripts or set photos and therefore knew it was him. but in my defense, i don't pay too much attention to the background characters, nor could i ever imagine a BEARDED and LONG-HAIRED krycek!! his whole thing is being pretty in a prep-school sort of way!!

well, if you did see this coming, feel free to tell me what a fool i am. or you can tell me you also didn't notice, which would make me feel better. they didn't even put his name in the front credits! they hid it in the back! they were committed to tricking me!!

ohhh, this episode was pretty darn good!! i LOVE skinner and mulder/scully angst. it’s just soOoooooooOoo delicious. i still can’t articulate exactly what it is that drives me so crazy. but it DOES.

it's something about the way they would die and kill for each other. the way the lines get really blurred between "this man is my boss" and "this man is like a father or uncle to me" and "this man is sometimes actively withholding information from me that will keep me from finding the answers i need" and just when you think he'll do one thing, he'll do the other. MMM! delicious.

krycek… i was wondering when we were going to get back to him and his schemes. these episodes have been pretty good in quality throughout s6, but i’m lacking an overall vision or build up to a bigger plot, unless there is something between the lines i'm missing, which wouldn't really be that surprising.

we often get a lot of one-off episodes and then a two-parter with way too much going on at once, though, so this isn't particularly surprising, and i'm not sure why it feels like we know even less than every other season. probably because we are coming off of SO much being explained to us after fight the future in the way it usually never is, AND so many new questions being raised by the same movie. so now it's kinda like... are they going to get to that ever?? or just leave us wondering??

but: someone krycek is involved with is putting a secret technology disease inside of skinner. and then preventing him from dying?? who is he working with? and for what goal?

and krycek wasn't even IN the movie!! so what does he have to do with all of that?

wait! the diplomats in this episode were from tunisia… we saw CSM with the new (?) alien virus bee farm in tunisia at the end of FTF… so maybe the nanotechnology is somehow derived from the alien virus spread by bees? even though the symptoms were different? no chest alien births this time around

the dots aren’t connecting per se, but i am at least recognizing the presence of dots.

tbh, i have no real predictions as to what is going to happen next in terms of mytharc stuff. because we still have diana and spender on the x files, and kersh thwarting the every move of our beloved agents!! how can they even do anything about the plot?? just keep sneaking around?

part of me wonders if kersh is actually an ally who is just really selling his performance as an enemy. but we also did see him with CSM that time in triangle, so it’s hard to say. but then again, i guess we also did see skinner with CSM every now and again. but, if kersh WAS an ally, wouldn't skinner feel less guilty about having them switched over to his jurisdiction? hmm… unless he's a secret ally, unbeknownst to even skinner.

and now, skinner decided that death chose for him where he will stand, and he will (probably) get himself more involved in the x files, but he'll have to do it behind the scenes, because he knows that at any moment they could kill him... but of course, scully doesn't know this, so she thinks he just went back on his word... or maybe she thinks he has some sort of secret plan because they know each other pretty well by now....... HMMM...

well, i don’t have any theories beyond the ones i proposed a few episodes ago as to the source of mulder’s angst. maybe his angst is related to krycek and the plot?? somehow?? is he on some sort of secret mission?

idk!! idk!! we will simply have to stay tuned!!

[softlights-citylights]

covalently bonded

lab partner!kuroo x f!reader headcannons

content warning none really. kuroo makes bad chemistry jokes. characters are in university. fem pronouns used.

wc 599

m.list

on her first day in her chemistry class, everyone is assigned a lab partner and she just so happens to be paired up with Kuroo

at first, he seems weird and a little cocky

she soon finds out that Kuroo has a good reason to be. he's incredible at chemistry; its like second nature to him

he would try to find her during the lecture that paired with the lab. after spotting her in her usual seat, he would slide into the row behind her and tap her on the shoulder. Kuroo would make it a point to sit there every week and slide her notes during lecture

if she fell asleep, he would take notes for her and make a copy to give to her the next time they met

when he realizes that he likes his lab partner's company, he would drag things out. he would try to be the last group to leave the lab, just so he could get some alone time with her

if she isn't good at chemistry, Kuroo would be incredibly patient. offering to tutor her outside of class, when it was really just an excuse to spend more time with her. he would make sure that he executed every aspect of the lab perfectly, ensuring that she got good grades too

if she is good at chemistry, he would compete with her. he'd try to do more during lab, insisting that he had the experience when they were both in their second semester of college. Kuroo would make terrible chemistry puns at her and cackle at his own jokes even if she didn't laugh

he would ask for her number under the guise of helping each other with the lab reports.

Kuroo insists on working on the lab report together, even though they are graded separately. he just wants an excuse to spend more time with her.

while reactions ran, Kuroo would chat with her about anything under the sun. if they were doing pcr or waiting for a gel to finish running, he would lose track of time while talking to her.

if they were doing something a little more hands on, Kuroo would hover around her.

if her hands were full and her safety glasses began sliding down her face, Kuroo would carefully push them up with the clean part of his glove

run out of pipette tips? he's already got a new box

cant get the clamps to close? his hands are over hers, all too eager to help.

need new samples to run in the spectrophotometer? he's already started cleaning the cuvette and loading the next sample

cant get the data to show results? Kuroo would send a spreadsheet of all his excel data with little notes to help her understand his work

on the last day of lab, Kuroo would wish her luck on finals in the most nerdy way possible: by giving her a note that corresponded with elements on the periodic table for her to decipher

university has a funny way of bringing people together and pushing them apart, and he didn't want to risk falling out of her company. he wanted to make his feelings known, just in case they never saw each other again

he's well aware of how nerdy and lame he's being, but he says it anyways

Kuroo confesses with a drawing of a heart around a water molecule, saying, "it's kind of like us, we're covalently bonded"

m.list

a/n ive had this idea in my head for a while. i graduated with a degree in biochem recently and lemme just say this shit is so unrealistic. everyone wants to get the fuck out of lab asap. i was imagining an biochemistry lab with mostly bench work

[gtwscratch]

I imagine that for Jimmy's ability, they oftentimes test "reflexes", or what stimuli will he react to and turn invisible. Sometimes it's loud noises, sometimes it's a lab employee "attacking" him, sometimes they basically hook him up to a system that dumps electricity into him, to test his pain tolerance and how long/quickly he will turn invisible.

Imagine if one day, he's brought back to the cell, and when Lizzie takes his hand to comfort him, he panics because they did so much electric testing his nerves are nearly dead. He can barely feel the touch.

They may have also tried multiple "torture" methods to see his reaction- I can easily see them forcing him under some water and taking notes as his form flickers out of panic and oxygen deprivation. They would do similar testing with Lizzie, too, in order to see if her blindness distance grows or shrinks with her fear or pain level. Conjunctional testing of Jimmy and Lizzie would be intresting, as well, to see if their powers flare up when the other person is in danger or in pain.

I also just realized the angst potential of seeing someone coming back from testing, shaking or visibly hurt, and not knowing what they've been through. Lizzie or Jimmy come back nearly unresponsive after some testing, and Joel is losing his mind, because he doesn't know what happened to them. And that works wonderfully for everyone else too.

The subjects 100% are put into situations like these in order to test their powers’ limitations. Poor guys.

I’m actually really looking forward to writing the characters’ reactions to their friends/cell mates coming back from really rough testing. Plot line wise, I’m not sure what I’ll get to, but I’d like to write one shots for them. :)

[noihavenosanitythanksforasking]

so this is based on my ramble in the byler discord but im gonna try and compress it into something readable n shit

So in the recent panel with my king Finn Wolfhard, my boy dropped a hint. A very important hint.

"The differences? Mike's a lot more brave than me. I don't think I'd be out there in a different dimension trying to save my friend and be in gunfights and stuff like that. Yeah he's way more brave than I could ever be."

A different dimension??

So Mike is going to the UD in S5. Im very unsurprised and im sure you are as well but lets fuckin talk about it bc holy fuck.

So I know this is the byler community but listen to me when i say, hold my hand and look me in the eyes when i say, I highly doubt that this friend Finn is talking about is Will. ESPECIALLY if byler is canon. Finn is very media trained and you can read legit anything he has ever said about the show and know how good he is about keeping secrets. If this friend was will we wouldn't have mentioned it. It's too close to the danger zone. He would have said something like 'i dont think i'd be out there fighting monsters and risking my life' or something like that. Which is much more vague and can apply to all seasons.

My theory is that this friend is max. CALL ME CRAZY. it could be anyone and I dont have exact reasoning on why its Max other than the fact that shes the only friend actively in danger rn and i adore madwheeler friendship with my heart and soul. But imo its def not Will and its not El.

Now if you go through the main characters there are only (if my memory is correct) 3 characters who havent been to the UD yet.

Lucas, Jonathan and Mike.

Other Characters:

El- Season 1 during the school battle (possibly sooner in the lab idk)

Will- all of s1 duh

dustin- season 4 with eddie

max - season 4 when she was vecna'd

nancy- season 1 in the forest or in s4 with robin and steve to kill vecna

steve- watergate and with nancy and robin

robin - season 4 with nancy and steve

hopper- im p sure hes been more than once but season 1 to find will

joyce- same thing i think shes been more than once but to find will in s1

So Lucas, Jonathan and Mike.

What do these 3 characters all have in common.

They are all a part of one of the main relationships that had issues in season 4. And what are these problems? Lets assess.

Jonathan is stressed because he doesnt want to go to the same school as nancy. He wants to tell her but he knows that she'll give up what she wants to be with him. He doesnt want to hold her back. Nancy feels shut out and afraid that Jonathan doesnt love her anymore. She wants to be together but she doesnt want to put Jonathan in a situation where he has to choose something over something else. They are having issues communicating.

Lucas is stressed about max because he wants to be there for her. Max is shutting him out due to the fact that she feels unworthy of his love or because she is scared of getting hurt and attached to someone. Lucas is hurt because he feels max doesn't trust him. They are having issues communicating.

Mike is stressed about about two people. El and Will. And for this brief moment we're going to look at this in a non byler pov. Mike is stressed about El because he doesn't know what she wants. He wants them to be happy but they aren't and he's not sure how to fix that. He also doesnt ask. Communication issue. Mike is stressed about Will because they aren't talking the way they used too. They dont tell each other anything anymore. They've drifted and Mike doesn't know what's going on anymore. Communication issue.

Interesting.

Thoughout the series the UD has been used as a symbol of all the hard things. Depending on what theories you believe (*cough* lonnie *cough*) this can have more or less meaning but lets assess how going to the UD has affected two of these relationships so far.

Jancy-

Jancy in season one was very tense. they were not friends for a good part of the season. They had constant issues with each other and fought a lot. Then barb goes missing. Will goes missing. They go to the forest in an attempt to figure it out. And Nancy ends up in the UD. Her going into the UD and making it out alive is the catalyst for her and Jonathan to get past their differences, to see each other for who they are and to put their pride aside enough to work together and appreciate the other as a fellow person.

Lumax-

Lumax had a lot of issues with communication and not being able to understand each other in the beginning of s4. They couldn't see eye to eye no matter what lucas did and max was very shut out. Then Max get's vecna'd and comes back. And then lumax finds the strength to communicate for the first time in the season, to see where the other is coming from and allow the other to be there for them.

So what does this mean for Mike. Well, both nancy and max had something that they we're struggling to overcome. A fear that they couldn't escape. Nancy's was barb and Max's was billy. Jonathan and lucas both have something they are afraid to express. Jonathan's is that he wants something diff than nancy and Lucas is that he wants to be there for her but doesnt want to intrude. All of these characters were pushed to solving these issues because of the Upside down (well jancy's recent issue hasn't been solved yet but ykwim).

Mike is going to go to the UD. Which is going to push him into a state of giving in on holding back his feelings. He's going to have to overcome something

El wants to be together, to be happy.

Will is afraid of his feelings, afraid of letting himself want what he wants and being hurt. He feels unworthy of love.

And Mike doesnt want what El wants. Mike loves Will but he is afraid of intruding.

So anyways thats why mike going to the UD means internalized homophobia thanks for coming to my ted talk i'd love to hear yalls ideas :D

[gardenladysworld]

Starbound hearts

Status: I'm working on it

Pairings: Neteyam x human!f!reader

Aged up characters!

Genre/Warnings: fluff, slow burn, oblivious characters, light angst, hurt/comfort, pining

Summary: In the breathtaking, untamed beauty of Pandora, two souls from different worlds find themselves drawn together against all odds. Neteyam, the dutiful future olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya clan, is bound by the expectations of his people and the traditions of his ancestors. She, a human scientist with a love for Pandora’s wonders, sees herself as an outsider, unworthy of the connection she craves.

Tags: @nerdylawyerbanditprofessor-blog, @ratchetprime211, @poppyseed1031, @redflashoftheleaf, @nikipuppeteer @eliankm, @quintessences0posts,

Part 15

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

Part 16: To want

The lab was buzzing with the usual energy—datapads flickering, the quiet hum of machinery, and the occasional back-and-forth between the xenobotany and medical teams. You sat at the long meeting table, half-listening, holding a hot coffee mug as Norm scrolled through his notes on the tablet in front of him.

“All right,” Norm said, tapping the screen. “Next on the agenda—Jake wants us to head to the village to do a full recheck of the medical supplies.”

That got your attention. You straightened in your seat as Kate, sitting beside you, exchanged a glance that practically screamed, interesting.

Brian, who had been half-zoned out with his arms crossed, raised a skeptical brow. “Why do they even need our supplies? It’s not like most of the Na’vi even use human medicine. They trust the Tsahik for that kind of thing.”

Norm sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, we know that, but Jake wants to be sure they have access to anything they might need. He doesn’t want anyone suffering if there’s something we can help with. Some of them do come to us in emergencies, and he wants to make sure everything is accounted for. Especially with more human-Navi interactions happening.”

Max nodded in agreement. “It’s not about replacing what Mo’at or the other healers does—it’s just about covering all the bases. And given how unpredictable life on Pandora is, having backup options isn’t the worst idea.”

You leaned forward, already making up your mind. “I’ll go.”

Kate raised her hand lazily. “Yeah, count me in too. I could use some fresh air.”

Brian let out a long breath, shaking his head but smirking nonetheless. “Well, I guess someone’s gotta carry the heavy stuff. Fine, I’m in.”

Norm gave an approving nod. “Great. Max and I will go as well. We’ll head out tomorrow morning and go over the inventory.”

As the conversation shifted to logistics, you felt a familiar flutter of anticipation in your chest. Any excuse to be in the village, to be near Neteyam, was one you were more than happy to take.

Kate nudged your arm under the table, giving you a knowing look. You didn’t need words to understand what she was saying: Oh, I see you, and I know exactly why you volunteered so fast.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small, guilty smile tugging at your lips. Yeah, she definitely wasn’t wrong.

*

The walk to the village was long but familiar, the dense foliage of the forest stretching endlessly in every direction. The sounds of Pandora surrounded you—the distant calls of creatures, the rustling of the wind through the towering trees, and the occasional hum of bioluminescent flora still lingering from the night before.

Brian adjusted the strap of the medkit slung over his shoulder, glancing around with mild curiosity. “How do they even know we’re coming? It’s not like we can send them a text or anything.”

Max, walking ahead, barely looked over his shoulder as he replied. “They already know. They’re watching us.”

Kate, who had only been to the village once before, immediately tensed. Her eyes darted toward the treetops and the thick underbrush, scanning for movement, but she saw nothing—just the endless green, stretching high above and disappearing into the deep shadows of the jungle.

“That’s comforting,” she muttered under her breath, her fingers tightening slightly around the strap of her bag.

You chuckled, nudging her playfully with your elbow. “Relax, Kate. They’re not going to hunt you down with arrows.”

Kate shot you a look, unimpressed. “You say that, but I know how big those arrows are. And I’d rather not be on the receiving end of one, thanks.”

Brian snorted. “Well, if it makes you feel better, they’d probably go for me first. I talk the most.”

“True,” you said, smirking. “You’d be the loudest target.”

Brian grinned but didn’t argue. Instead, he glanced back at Max. “So, they’re just watching us right now? Like, from the trees?”

Max nodded. “Most likely. They’re cautious about humans, always have been. But they also know we’ve been coming here for years, so they won’t interfere. As long as we don’t give them a reason to.”

Kate exhaled, shaking her head. “Great. So we’re just casually being monitored by a bunch of ten-foot-tall warriors, and I can’t even see them. Fantastic.”

You grinned at her. “Welcome to Pandora and you shouldn’t worry.”

Despite her grumbling, you could see the fascination in her expression as she continued scanning the treetops. And though you didn’t say it out loud, you knew exactly what Max meant—somewhere in the shadows, unseen but ever-present, the Na’vi were there. Watching. Waiting.

*

Kate nudged you with her elbow, her lips curving into a sly grin as she lowered her voice just enough so Brian wouldn’t hear. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. You’ve got backup even in the village.”

You didn’t have to ask what she meant. The look in her eyes—the barely-contained amusement, the way she tilted her head ever so slightly—made it painfully obvious. Neteyam.

You didn’t respond immediately, just shot her a side-eye as you kept walking. But you didn’t deny it either.

Kate hummed knowingly, her smirk widening. “Must be nice.”

You exhaled through your nose, your expression softening despite yourself. “Yeah…”

Kate shot you a look, intrigued by the honesty in your voice. “So,” she dragged out the word, the grin creeping back onto her face. “Have you two seen each other since your little hut adventure?”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you rolled your eyes. “Jeez, Kate, it was only three days ago.”

“And?” she prompted, waggling her eyebrows.

“And he’s got a million things to do,” you said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “Just like me.”

Kate pursed her lips, unconvinced. “Mmmhmm. Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself more than me.”

You shot her a sharp look, but she just grinned wider. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re not missing him.”

You didn’t answer right away, biting the inside of your cheek. Of course, you missed him. Terribly.

Kate smirked, her voice turning sing-song. “You totally miss him.”

You sighed, unable to help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Shut up, Kate.”

She only laughed, nudging you again. “Never.”

*

The moment you stepped into the village, the air around you shifted. The sounds of daily life—voices calling out in Na’vi, the rhythmic pounding of tools against wood and stone, the distant hum of nature blending seamlessly with the people—welcomed you like a steady heartbeat. It was different from the outpost, from the quiet sterility of the lab, but it wasn’t unfamiliar. It was a world you had come to love, a place where you felt… at home.

Norm had already peeled away, heading straight for Jake, leaving the rest of you behind to take in the scene. Kate and Brian hovered just a step behind you, their postures stiff, their eyes scanning the village with obvious unease. They were used to seeing Na’vi—Neteyam had been a constant presence around you even before you were lovers, and the avatars on the field were a common sight. But this—being surrounded by the Omaticaya in their own home, where their presence was the exception, not the norm—was another thing entirely.

You, on the other hand, felt no such hesitation. You had spent years walking the fine line between observer and participant, and it had only blurred further since Neteyam had claimed a place in your life.

A familiar voice broke through the air before you could take another step.

“Finally!”

Kiri’s voice rang out before she appeared, her tall frame moving toward you with an easy grace, a wide grin on her face.

Before you could respond, Lo’ak was right behind her, his usual lopsided smirk firmly in place as he crossed his arms. “Took you guys long enough.”

You smiled, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease just at the sight of them. “Didn’t know you were waiting for us,” you teased.

Kiri snorted, flipping her braids over her shoulder.

You narrowed your eyes at her, but Lo’ak only grinned wider. “You know,” he drawled, tilting his head at you, “he survived Dad’s lecture.”

You huffed a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Of course, he did.” You weren’t the least bit surprised that Neteyam had made it through relatively unscathed. He was, after all, Neteyam. The golden child. The responsible one. Even when caught sneaking off in the middle of the night.

Lo’ak’s smirk deepened. “You should’ve seen it, though. Dad was pissed. But hey, at least Mom didn’t find out.”

You laughed, crossing your arms over your chest. “And I survived Norm’s lecture, so I’d say we’re even.”

Kiri grinned. “Barely.”

Before anything else could be said, a small figure darted through the crowd, weaving effortlessly between the tall Na’vi bodies before skidding to a stop in front of you.

“Tuk!”

The youngest Sully beamed at you, her big golden eyes shining with excitement. “You’re here!” she said, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Of course I’m here,” you said warmly. “Did you miss me already?”

“Yes!” she declared, nodding enthusiastically before grabbing your wrist with her small, four-fingered hand. “Come on! I have something to show you!”

You laughed, glancing at Kiri and Lo’ak, who both looked thoroughly amused. “Should I be worried?” you asked, letting Tuk tug you forward.

“Nope,” Kiri said, smirking. “But you should definitely be prepared.”

Lo’ak chuckled. “She’s been waiting for you.”

Kate and Brian remained behind, clearly content to stay out of whatever chaos Tuk was about to drag you into. But you didn’t mind. Being around the Sully kids, in the heart of the Omaticaya village, surrounded by these people—it felt like stepping into a world that had slowly, inevitably, begun to feel like yours.

Even if you weren’t technically part of it.

Not yet.

*

Just as you were about to let Tuk drag you off on whatever adventure she had planned, Norm’s voice rang out from the other side of the clearing.

“Hey! Can I get some help over here?”

You turned your head to see him standing near a small set of supplies, Max beside him, already sorting through some of the medical packs they had brought along.

At the same time, Tuk’s small hand tugged insistently at your wrist. “Come on!” she whined, pulling harder, clearly unimpressed with Norm’s timing.

“Go on, Tuk’s orders seem pretty non-negotiable,” Kate teased.

Brian sighed dramatically. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry about us, we’ll just do all the real work.”

You gave them an apologetic look, lifting your free hand in surrender. “I owe you one,” you said.

Kate gave you an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head as if this was the greatest betrayal she had ever suffered. “Oh, sure,” she drawled. “Abandon us for the tiny one. Unbelievable.”

Brian just smirked, shrugging. “Honestly, I’d take a hyperactive child over sorting medical kits with Norm any day. You’re the one missing out.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “I’ll remember that when you’re the one getting dragged away next time.”

Kate rolled her eyes but waved you off. “Go on, then. Have fun doing whatever she has planned.”

Tuk huffed impatiently, pulling at your wrist again. “Hurry up!”

You laughed, finally giving in as you let the Na’vi girl lead you away, casting one last glance over your shoulder at the others. Norm was already muttering something under his breath, clearly not thrilled about being ignored, while Kate and Brian reluctantly made their way toward him.

Yeah. You definitely owed them one.

*

The next few hours passed in a blur of laughter, teasing, and the ever-present energy that came with being around the Sully siblings. You sat with Tuk near the stream, sifting through a collection of colorful shells and smooth river stones she had gathered earlier. Every few minutes, she’d hold one up for your inspection, her excitement palpable.

“This one!” Tuk announced, thrusting a particularly iridescent shell into your hands. “It’s perfect for the center of my necklace!”

You turned it over in your palm, watching how the light shimmered across the surface. “It’s beautiful, Tuk,” you said warmly, handing it back to her. “Are you making this for someone special?”

Tuk huffed dramatically. “For me,” she declared. “I have to look good if I’m gonna be a warrior, right?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Of course. Every warrior needs a good accessory.”

“Look!” Tuk declared proudly as she turned back towards you after searching something behind of the pile of her treasure, holding it up with both hands. The bow was beautifully crafted, the smooth wood polished to perfection, with intricate carvings along its length—Na’vi designs you immediately recognized. The craftsmanship was unmistakable.

Tuk noticed your touch and grinned. “Neteyam helped me!” she beamed. “He said that if I want to be a warrior one day, I need a real bow, not just a tiny one.”

Your fingers traced the delicate engravings absentmindedly. You could practically picture him working on it, carving each detail with careful precision, smoothing the wood with practiced hands. He had helped Tuk make this. He had poured time into it, ensuring it was something she would treasure.

You smiled, warmth filling your chest. “He did a good job. It’s beautiful.”

Tuk puffed up, standing taller as she ran her hands along the string. “It’s strong, too. He made me promise to train every day.” She mimicked drawing an arrow, her stance wobbling slightly. “I’m going to be the best warrior ever!”

Lo’ak scoffed playfully. “Tuk, you’re not even fifteen yet.”

“I don’t care! I can still train,” Tuk shot back, sticking her tongue out.

You chuckled, but even as you listened to Tuk chatter about her future warrior status, your eyes flickered around the village, searching, hoping for a glimpse of him. He had to be around somewhere, right? You hadn’t seen him all day, and even though you knew you weren’t supposed to need to see him, you couldn’t help it.

Lo’ak, who had been watching you with an amused smirk, finally spoke up. “He’s not here.”

You turned your head toward him, narrowing your eyes. “I wasn’t looking for him.”

Lo’ak smirked. “Sure. That’s why you’ve been glancing around every five minutes.”

Kiri grinned, joining in. “He’s with the new warriors up at the Hallelujah Mountains. Some of them have their iknimaya now.”

You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral. It made sense. The iknimaya was one of the most important rites of passage for a Na’vi—bonding with an ikran was a crucial step toward adulthood. But that didn’t stop the faint pang of disappointment from settling in your chest. You hadn’t seen him since the morning he brought you back to the outpost. Since then, you’d been preoccupied with lab work, and he probably had been buried under even more responsibilities.

“After your little nighttime adventure, Dad’s been piling on extra work for him,” Lo’ak continued, grinning as he leaned back on his hands. “He told Dad he was at the Tree of Voices alone, but even with that excuse, he still got loaded with extra duties. You know, as punishment. Said something about ‘keeping his focus where it belongs.’”

Kiri sighed. “Not that he complained,” she added. “He just took it. As usual.”

You stiffened slightly at that. Damn it, Jake. Of course, he didn’t know the full truth—Neteyam had only told him he had been at the Tree of Voices alone. Still, Jake hadn’t bought it completely.

Lo’ak shot you a knowing look, his smirk widening. “You miss him,” he taunted, his voice sing-song.

You exhaled sharply, your patience wearing thin. “Lo’ak—”

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “No, no, it’s cute,” he continued, his tail flicking with amusement. “You’ve been sneaking glances all afternoon like maybe he’ll appear out of thin air just because you will him to.”

Your grip tightened on Tuk’s bow as you leveled him with a glare. “Lo’ak, I swear to Eywa, I will hit you with this bow.”

Lo’ak let out an exaggerated gasp, clutching his chest. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Kiri snorted. “Oh, she definitely would.”

Tuk giggled, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. She leaned in closer, holding up her bow like she was assessing its weight. “If she doesn’t, I will.”

You gave Tuk an approving nod. “That’s my girl.”

Lo’ak groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up. “Great. Now you’re corrupting my baby sister.”

“You mean our baby sister,” Kiri corrected with a smirk.

Lo’ak rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He knew better than to fight both of you at once.

Despite the teasing, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming fondness for them. You may not have been born into their world, but they made space for you, treated you as their own. Kiri’s sharp wit, Lo’ak’s relentless mischief, Tuk’s boundless energy—it all felt like home in a way you never expected. Maybe you were different, maybe you weren’t Na’vi, but with them, you never felt out of place.

*

The sun was beginning its slow descent when Kiri grabbed your hand, her excitement barely contained. “Come on, I have something to show you,” she said, practically dragging you back toward the village.

Lo’ak groaned from where he was lying on the grass. “What now?”

“Something actually useful,” Kiri shot back, rolling her eyes. “Not that you’d care.”

Lo’ak grinned, unfazed. “Yeah, yeah. Have fun with your leaves and pastes.”

You chuckled, waving him off as you followed Kiri. Tuk trailed behind for a few moments before running off toward a group of children her age, leaving you alone with Kiri as she led you toward the Tsahik’s tent.

“I’ve been working on something new, and I know you’ll want to see it.”

You didn’t hesitate, knowing exactly what she meant. Despite the countless differences between humans and Na’vi, one thing had always remained true—you loved learning about their ways, their knowledge of the land, the way they understood nature in a way that science could never fully explain.

As you approached the Tsahik’s tent, the warm, earthy scent of dried herbs and crushed leaves filled the air. You had been inside before, but it never failed to amaze you. The tent was lined with woven mats, baskets overflowing with medicinal plants, and bundles of dried flowers hanging from the ceiling.

Mo’at was already there, seated with the quiet authority that came so naturally to her. She looked up as you and Kiri entered, her sharp eyes assessing you for a moment before she nodded in acknowledgment.

“Kaltxì,” Kiri greeted her, settling beside one of the workstations where a few wooden bowls of mixed ingredients were set out. “I was telling her about the healing salve I made.”

Mo’at hummed, her fingers working deftly as she sorted through a pile of dried roots. “Then show her,” she said simply, her voice calm but expectant.

Kiri eagerly gestured for you to sit beside her. You lowered yourself onto the woven mat, your scientist’s curiosity sparking as you took in the various natural remedies laid out before you.

“I know you like learning about this stuff,” Kiri said with a smirk, glancing at you. “I swear, you watch the healers like they’re performing magic.”

You rolled your eyes playfully.

The scientist in you loved studying the plants of Pandora, mapping their properties, comparing them to what little Earth-based knowledge you still clung to. You loved observing, learning. And Kiri, with her deep connection to Eywa and the living world around her, was the best person to learn from.

“This is the one,” Kiri said, pulling a small, round container from a woven satchel. She popped off the lid, revealing a thick, deep green paste inside. “It’s made from yomio leaves and tsawke root. The mixture is really strong for wounds—helps them close faster and reduces swelling.”

You leaned in, inspecting the salve closely. “What’s the base for it?” you asked, reaching out but stopping yourself before touching it.

Kiri grinned, loving your interest. “Crushed yomio leaves, mixed with rendered fat from a syaksyuk.” She pointed to the paste, swirling her finger lightly through it. “The fat helps preserve it longer so it doesn’t spoil, and it also makes it easier to apply.”

You hummed thoughtfully, cataloging the information in your mind. “Do the leaves have to be fresh, or can they be dried before you make the paste?”

“They can be dried,” Kiri replied, “but fresh is always better. The potency fades a little once the leaves start to dry. Mo’at always says the best medicine is made from plants that still have Eywa’s breath in them.”

At that, Mo’at finally spoke, her voice even but carrying the weight of experience. “A plant loses its strength when it is no longer connected to the earth,” she said, glancing between you and Kiri. “That is why we gather them carefully and use them with purpose.”

You nodded, absorbing her words. “That makes sense. On Earth, some plants retain their properties even when dried, but others lose their effectiveness almost immediately.” You glanced at the salve again. “Where do you usually gather the yomio leaves? Does location matter, or are they the same no matter where you find them?”

Mo’at studied you for a moment before gesturing toward a bundle of dried plants hanging nearby. “The strongest grow near the eastern riverbend,” she said. “The water is rich there, the soil full of life. The ones from the higher cliffs are weaker, thinner.”

You nodding. “So the environment affects the potency. That’s fascinating. I wonder if it’s the mineral composition of the soil or if it has to do with the surrounding plants—maybe something in that region encourages better growth.”

Kiri rolled her eyes, but her grin betrayed her amusement. “You really can’t turn off the scientist part of your brain, can you?”

You laughed, shrugging. “I like understanding how things work.” You turned back to Mo’at, tilting your head slightly. “Does it change the way the salve is made? If the leaves are weaker, do you use more of them to compensate?”

Mo’at’s lips quirked just slightly at the corner—amusement, perhaps, or approval. “Yes,” she said simply, reaching for a large wooden mortar near the fire. “Come,” she instructed, patting the woven mat beside her. “Try.”

Kiri handed you a bundle of fresh yomio leaves, their scent sharp and slightly citrusy. “You have to crush them until they turn into a thick paste,” she explained, gesturing toward the massive mortar.

You eyed the size of it warily. It was Na’vi-sized, carved from thick wood, the pestle nearly as long as your arm.

You set to work, gripping the pestle with both hands and pressing the leaves into the mortar’s base. The first attempt barely bruised them. You frowned, adjusted your grip, and tried again, putting more force behind it.

The pestle slipped, nearly knocking into the side of the mortar.

Kiri snorted. “Oh, this is going to be fun to watch.”

You shot her a glare. “I’d like to see you do this with human-sized tools.”

She grinned, but Mo’at, ever patient, simply gestured for you to continue. “Use your weight,” she advised. “Not just your arms.”

You adjusted your stance, planting your feet more firmly. This time, when you pressed down, the leaves gave way under the pressure, releasing a burst of fragrant oil. Encouraged, you kept going, grinding them into a thick, deep-green paste.

After several minutes of struggling, you finally managed to get the consistency right. You sat back with a huff, pushing stray strands of hair from your mask. “Eywa help me,” you muttered, inspecting your work. “How do you guys make this look so easy?”

Mo’at peered into the mortar, then gave a small, satisfied nod. “Good,” she said simply, reaching out to smear a bit of the paste between her fingers, testing its texture. “Strong.”

Despite the effort it had taken, you felt an odd surge of pride at her approval. Mo’at did not give praise lightly.

Kiri nudged you with her elbow. “See? Not bad for a human.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, wiping your hands on a cloth. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe I’ll get the hang of it eventually.”

Mo’at handed you a small wooden jar, indicating for you to scoop the paste inside. As you carefully transferred it, you felt her gaze linger on you. Not cold, not disapproving—just assessing.

Perhaps she wasn’t as resistant to humans as others believed. She wouldn’t say it, but you could tell she was watching, observing how you and Kiri worked together, how you listened, how you tried.

And maybe, just maybe, she was starting to see that you weren’t just one of the humans. You were something else.

You shook your head, but you couldn’t stop the satisfied smile from forming. Learning was something you had always loved, and today had been no different. Even in the heart of the Omatikaya, surrounded by their traditions and their knowledge, you found yourself fascinated—drawn deeper into their world. And despite everything, it felt... natural.

*

Kiri, ever the enthusiastic teacher, grabbed a woven bowl and pulled it toward the center of the mat. She reached for a bundle of dried herbs near Mo’at’s side, carefully selecting a few leaves and roots. “So, you saw how the yomio leaves react when crushed into a paste,” she began, stirring the mortar’s remnants with her fingers. “But what happens when we prepare them differently?”

Mo’at, listening silently until now, reached for a small clay pot filled with oil and poured a small amount into a wooden dish. “Water and oil do not carry medicine the same way,” she explained, her voice steady and full of quiet wisdom. “Some plants release their healing properties into water. Others, like tsawke root, need oil to draw out their strength.”

You leaned in, fascinated. “Why is that? Is it because of how the compounds break down?”

Kiri hummed in agreement as she plucked a small, wiry root from the bundle and dropped it into the oil. “It’s because some plants have their power in their juices, but others… the strength is locked in their fibers. Water pulls from the surface, but oil seeps deeper.”

You watched intently as the root began to darken in the oil, its reddish hue leeching into the liquid, staining it a deep amber color. The scent changed too—richer, more pungent, almost spicy. Kiri swirled the dish lightly, tilting it so you could see how the oil thickened as it absorbed the plant’s essence.

Mo’at motioned for you to take another root and place it into a dish filled with water instead. You did as instructed, watching how the root barely changed at all. The water clouded slightly, but it didn’t pull the color or scent in the same way the oil had.

“So for something like tsawke root, an oil base is better for making salves,” you murmured, thinking aloud. “Because it extracts more of the medicinal properties.”

“Yes,” Mo’at confirmed, nodding. “And oil will keep longer than water. No rot. No spoil.”

That made sense. Water-based mixtures would spoil quickly without preservatives, but oil-based infusions could last much longer. You made a mental note of that, filing it away for later.

Kiri reached for another plant, one with soft, rounded leaves that had been drying in bundles around the tent. “Now, watch this,” she said, plucking a few of them and crushing them between her fingers before sprinkling them into both oil and water.

The reaction was immediate. In the water, the leaves darkened, releasing a greenish tint, but they remained mostly intact. In the oil, however, they crumpled further, almost dissolving into the liquid, their edges curling as they infused it with color.

“Their healing properties are weaker,” Kiri explained, “but they still help with pain when mixed right.” She glanced at you with a knowing grin. “And they smell better than some of the stronger ones. That’s why they go into balms.”

You reached out, dipping your finger into the oil mixture and rubbing it between your fingers. It was slick and fragrant, earthy with a hint of spice. “It feels different too,” you noted. “Thicker, heavier.”

Mo’at, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke again. “Yes. The oil holds the medicine in place, keeping it on the skin. Water will wash away. Oil lingers.”

It was all so methodical, yet deeply intuitive. The way they worked with the plants wasn’t just about science—it was about understanding the nature of each one, the way they interacted with their environment, how they behaved under different conditions. You found it endlessly fascinating, the blend of tradition and practical knowledge that Mo’at and Kiri carried with them.

As you were about to ask another question, the tent flap burst open, and a blur of motion barreled toward you.

“Tuk!” Kiri yelped as the girl nearly knocked into her.

Tuk, breathless and grinning, bounced on her heels. “They’re back!” she exclaimed, excitement bubbling in her voice. “The warriors! They came back from the Hallelujah Mountains!”

Your heart stuttered in your chest.

Neteyam.

You blinked, suddenly forgetting all about the herbs and their properties. Mo’at gave Tuk a mildly disapproving glance but did not scold her. Kiri, however, rolled her eyes, shaking her head at her younger sister’s excitement.

“You could’ve just said that normally, Tuk,” Kiri sighed, but there was amusement in her voice.

Tuk ignored her, turning to you instead. “Come see! You have to come!” She practically bounced in place, her hands reaching for yours.

Your fingers twitched slightly. He was back. You hadn’t seen him in three days, and the anticipation suddenly coiled tight in your stomach.

Kiri smirked knowingly at your hesitation. “Oh, come on,” she teased. “You’re definitely coming. We know who you’re looking for.”

You shot her a look but didn’t deny it.

Tuk, impatient as ever, tugged on your hand insistently. “Come on!” she whined.

With a deep breath, you rose to your feet, brushing off your hands. The past few days without Neteyam had already been too long, and your heart was already racing at the thought of seeing him again.

“Alright,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Let’s go.”

*

As you stepped outside with Kiri and Tuk, the air buzzed with excitement. The village was alive with movement—Na’vi gathered in small clusters, their voices rising in cheers and joyous laughter as warriors returned, most of them with ikran circling above them. Families and friends celebrated, embracing those who had successfully completed their Iknimaya.

Kiri let out a pleased hum as she scanned the sky. “Looks like a every one of them passed,” she observed, watching the newly bonded warriors dismount from their ikran. Their faces shone with triumph, their bodies still bearing fresh scrapes and bruises from the harsh test of earning a flying companion.

Tuk bounced beside you, clapping her hands. “They did it!” she giggled, pointing toward a group of younger warriors who were being showered with praise.

Your heart thumped against your ribs as your eyes flicked over the returning figures, searching—no, longing—for one in particular.

Where is he?

Before you could voice the question, you felt a strong grip on your arm.

“Alright, lovebird,” Kate’s teasing voice cut in, pulling you back to reality. “Come on, you’re getting that dreamy look again.”

You barely had time to react before she dragged you away from Kiri and Tuk, weaving through the crowd toward where Norm and the others were gathered.

“Kate—” you protested, glancing over your shoulder one last time, hoping to catch a glimpse of Neteyam.

“Nope,” she cut you off, her grip firm as she pulled you along. “You can make eyes at your warrior later. Right now, you’re reporting back to the team like the rest of us.”

Brian glanced up as you approached, lifting an eyebrow. “Ah, she returns. How was your very productive day?”

Kate smirked, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “Oh, you know, while we were slaving away, our dear scientist here was out watching the sky, lost in thought.”

You shot her a glare, but it lacked any real venom. “I was not just watching the sky,” you defended, though the warmth on your cheeks betrayed you.

Kate leaned in slightly, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Mmm, sure. Not staring at a certain soon-to-return Na’vi warrior, then?”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you love me,” she quipped, nudging you playfully before turning her attention back to Norm and Max.

You sighed, stealing one last glance toward the open clearing where the warriors were returning. Your fingers twitched at your sides, itching with anticipation.

You could wait a little longer.

Maybe.

*

The datapad screen glowed dimly in your hands, the soft hum of village life around you blending into the background as you carefully logged the medical supplies Norm dictated. Your fingers tapped methodically over the touchscreen, cataloging everything.

“Alright,” Norm murmured beside you, scanning over the inventory. “We’re making good progress, but we should start wrapping this up soon. We need to head back before it gets too dark.” He tapped his own screen, checking the remaining tasks. “We still have a couple more things to go over, but we should be done in a few hours.”

You nodded absentmindedly, half-hearing him. Your focus had already begun to drift—your fingers still moved over the datapad, but your eyes had locked onto a figure in the distance.

Neteyam.

He was standing near the central clearing, his posture relaxed but ever-composed, talking with one of the warriors who had returned from their Iknimaya. He must have just gotten back himself, his braids slightly tousled by flight, his skin still faintly glistening from exertion. The golden light of the setting sun played against his deep blue skin, highlighting the strong contours of his shoulders, the ripple of his muscles shifting beneath the intricate woven cummerband he wore. His tail flicked lazily behind him as he shifted from one foot to the other, the easy confidence of his stance utterly captivating.

Gods, how could someone be so beautiful?

You exhaled slowly, watching as he gestured slightly with his hands while speaking, his long fingers moving gracefully, his four-fingered hands so unlike your own. His presence was effortless—commanding yet natural, like he was a part of Pandora itself. And you loved to watch him. To study every detail as if you could carve the image of him into your mind permanently.

You could feel the heat creeping up your neck. You knew you shouldn’t stare, but it was impossible not to. It had been three days since you last saw him, three days since you had felt the warmth of his hands on your waist, since his lips had ghosted over your skin with whispered words that still echoed in your mind. Now, here he was, so close and yet so far, completely unaware that you were here.

“He doesn’t even know she’s here,” Brian murmured in a low voice beside Kate, and you barely registered the way your friends had begun to whisper.

Kate snickered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think she cares. Look at her.”

You blinked, snapping your eyes away from Neteyam, your fingers tightening slightly on the datapad. You shook your head once, sharp and deliberate, as if willing yourself back to the present. With an exhale, you forced your focus back onto the screen in front of you, resuming your typing as though nothing had happened.

Don’t be obvious. Don’t bother him. Don’t make this harder for him than it already is.

Because this wasn’t like the nights you had stolen together in the lab, when you could be as close as you wanted. This was the village. And here, only his siblings and your human colleagues knew about what you shared with him. If anyone else found out, it would only make things harder for him.

You swallowed the ache that settled in your chest. You wanted him, wanted to be near him, but you also knew better. This was his world. You wouldn’t make it more complicated for him, even if it meant keeping your distance. Even if it meant pretending not to see him.

You tried to focus on the datapad. You really did. The text on the screen blurred as you logged the last of the salves, but your fingers moved automatically, your mind hopelessly elsewhere.

Hopelessly on him.

Your gaze flickered up again, unable to help yourself. Just a quick glance, just for a moment—you told yourself. He was still talking with the warrior, standing in that infuriatingly perfect way he always did, his tail swayed lazily behind him, curling subtly every now and then, the bioluminescent dots along his back shimmering faintly in the warm light of the evening.

You sighed inwardly, dragging your eyes back down to the datapad—only to glance back up again a few seconds later.

Pathetic, you scolded yourself.

But this time, something was different. Your breath hitched as you caught movement near him—Tuk had appeared, bouncing with excitement, tugging on his arm. Neteyam automatically leaned down to her level, listening patiently as she whispered something conspiratorially into his ear.

You smiled fondly at the sight, watching as he nodded along to whatever she was saying. But then—Tuk turned, her hand extending outward. Pointing.

At you.

Your stomach dropped.

Time slowed as Neteyam’s golden eyes followed her direction.

Straight. To. You.

Your brain stalled, panic flaring instantly.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit—

You did the worst possible thing you could do in this situation. You looked around like a dumbass, as if there could possibly be anyone else in the vicinity that Tuk might be pointing at.

As if there was anyone else Neteyam could be looking at.

Your wide eyes darted left. Right. As if the trees or the handful of other humans in the village could somehow be the intended targets of his attention. Maybe he’s not looking at me—maybe—

But then you saw it.

The exact moment Neteyam registered your pathetic attempt at playing dumb. The exact moment amusement flickered over his face.

He shook his head once, slow and deliberate, making his braids sway over his shoulders, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Your face burned.

He knew.

He knew you’d been watching him.

You didn’t need to hear his voice to know exactly what he was thinking.

Caught you staring again, ma yawne.

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to look anywhere but at him, diving back into the datapad like your life depended on it. Kate and Brian exchanged glances before looking at you expectantly, but you ignored them, determined to pretend none of this just happened.

But deep down, under all your mortification, you felt the warmth spread through your chest.

Because even after all this time—after three years of falling for him, after becoming his secret lover, after knowing his touch, his voice, his kisses—just one look from Neteyam still managed to unravel you completely.

*

Neteyam approached slowly, his long strides easy and unhurried as he made his way toward the small cluster of humans. His gaze flickered to you briefly, warmth lingering in his golden eyes, before Tuk, practically vibrating with excitement, bounced around him, already tugging on his arm.

"Neteyam!" Tuk beamed, gripping his fingers as she bounced on the balls of her feet. "How was the Iknimaya? Did you see any big ikrans? Did anyone fall? Did you have to help someone? Tell me everything!"

Neteyam chuckled, ruffling her braids affectionately. "Slow down, Tuk. One question at a time, okay?"

But she didn't slow down, not in the slightest. "Were they scared? Did everyone pass? What about you? What did you do?!"

He let out a soft exhale but answered patiently, the same way he always did when it came to her. "Yes, everyone passed. Some of them were scared, but they were brave." His voice carried that steady, unwavering confidence that made your stomach flutter, even when it wasn’t directed at you. "And no one fell, Tuk, I promise."

You couldn't help but listen, even as you tried to focus on the datapad in front of you. His voice was like gravity, pulling you in whether you wanted it to or not.

But then Tuk changed the subject.

"Oh!" she gasped suddenly, tugging on his hand again. "I showed her my bow! The one you made for me! And she loved it!"

Your fingers paused over the keypad, and you glanced up from the screen just in time to see Neteyam’s ears flick up, his expression shifting with quiet amusement. His gaze found yours again, this time lingering, as if he was waiting to see your reaction.

You pressed your lips together, biting back a smile, and turned back to the datapad, determined to not let him see how much his attention affected you.

But he was watching you.

You could feel it.

His warm gaze settled on you as you worked beside Norm, like he was studying you just as much as you had been studying him moments ago. He wasn’t even trying to hide it, and it took every ounce of restraint in your body to not squirm under the weight of it. You wanted to be close to him. So bad.

You forced yourself to type. Focus. Focus. Do not look at him. Act normal.

The other scientists greeted Neteyam, and he responded in kind, raising his hand and offering them the traditional "I see you" gesture, his fingers pressed together as he inclined his head in quiet respect.

And then, to your horror and delight—he walked toward you.

Your fingers stilled completely when you noticed his large frame moving closer.

Then, as he always did in the lab, he crouched down beside you, bringing himself to your level with that same effortless grace.

You turned your head slightly, your breath catching when you met his eyes.

Neteyam's gaze was steady, warm, filled with something quiet and unreadable. He was so close. Close enough that you could see every delicate detail of his face—the intricate bioluminescent freckles dotting his skin, the sharp yet soft angles of his features, the slight part of his lips as if he wanted to say something but was waiting for you first.

And Eywa, you wanted to throw yourself at him.

To run your fingers through his braids, to press your face into the warmth of his chest, to feel him again after days of aching for him.

But you couldn’t.

Not here. Not in front of everyone.

So instead, you smiled. A soft, small thing, laced with all the affection you couldn’t put into words at that moment.

And he smiled back.

It was a subtle curve of his lips, barely there—but you saw it.

You knew that smile.

It was the same one he gave you when he was holding you in the dark, when his hands mapped the shape of your body, when he whispered things against your skin that made your head spin.

You exhaled quietly, grounding yourself before speaking. "You made it back in one piece."

"Of course, I did," he murmured, his voice carrying the slightest hint of amusement, his eyes not moving from yours. "Did you doubt me?"

You tilted your head, pretending to think. "Maybe just a little."

He huffed out a soft chuckle, shaking his head before his gaze dropped briefly—to your lips, then back to your eyes.

It lasted only a second.

But you noticed.

And you knew, without a doubt, that Neteyam had missed you just as much as you missed him.

“You guys look like you bit into a lemon,” Kate whispered, her voice dripping with amusement.

You shot her a sharp glare, but she only grinned wider, clearly enjoying your struggle to stay composed. It didn’t help that Brian was quietly smirking beside her, glancing between you and Neteyam like he was watching a live drama unfold.

You ignored them. Instead, you looked back at Neteyam, your gaze softening despite yourself. Happy to see him again.

He was so close, crouched beside you, golden eyes warm and unwavering. You wanted to reach out, to let your fingers map out the places you had kissed before. But instead, you tilted your head slightly, forcing a teasing smirk to your lips.

“Shouldn’t the future olo’eyktan be celebrating with the new warriors?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t that part of your whole ‘leader of the people’ thing?”

Neteyam hummed, tilting his head slightly as if considering it, but then his lips curved into a slow, lazy smirk, his tails swaying side to side happily. “Never,” he said smoothly, his voice dropping into that deep, velvety timbre that sent a shiver down your spine. “Not when the most interesting being is here.”

Your stomach flipped.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes to mask the heat creeping up your neck. “Flattery, huh? I thought you were above that, mighty warrior.” Eywa, how did he do that? How did he manage to say things so easily, so naturally, like he wasn’t completely unraveling you from the inside out?

His tail flicked idly behind him, his amusement barely concealed. “You wound me,” he murmured, placing a hand dramatically over his chest.

Neteyam watched you carefully, studying your reaction like he was memorizing every twitch of your expression. Then, as if sensing your thoughts, his voice softened. “Since when have you been here?” he asked, his tail flicking lazily behind him.

Your heart clenched at the realization, and you softened immediately. “Since this morning,” you admitted, watching the way his jaw clenched slightly, like the thought of you being so close yet out of reach bothered him. “We came with Norm to check on the medical supplies.” You paused, then smirked playfully. “Not that you would’ve noticed. You were too busy climbing floating mountains.”

You exhaled, finally able to answer, but as you opened your mouth, you noticed something in his eyes.

Sadness.

A quiet kind of disappointment.

He was frustrated. Frustrated that he hadn’t been able to see you all day.

Neteyam huffed a small laugh, shaking his head, but before he could respond, a voice called out from the other side of the village.

“Neteyam!”

You both turned toward the source of the voice—a young warrior waving him over. The celebration was still going strong, the newly bonded riders surrounded by their proud friends and family.

Neteyam exhaled through his nose, a very put-upon sigh, his ears twitching slightly in annoyance. He didn’t want to go.

You smirked at him, tilting your head teasingly. “Come on,” you teased. “Your duty is calling.”

Neteyam let out a quiet, dramatic groan, but there was amusement in his golden gaze as he slowly rose to his full height, towering over you once more.

And just as he stepped past you—

Thwap.

His tail flicked out, playfully slapping the side of your mask.

A startled laugh burst from your lips as you reached up instinctively, swatting at nothing but air. “Neteyam!” you half-scolded, half-laughed, shaking your head.

He only smirked over his shoulder, his golden eyes full of mischief as he walked away. "See you soon, syulang," he murmured, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

And with that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you smiling like a complete fool.

And as you watched him go, warmth bloomed deep in your chest.

You had missed him.

*

The next few hours passed in a blur of work, conversation, and the occasional distraction—mainly in the form of Tuk.

She would dart over every so often, her small hands grasping onto your arm as she chattered about something seemingly mundane but infinitely endearing. One time, it was about how she and Kiri had found a new kind of insect near the river. Another time, she excitedly showed you a rock she had found, claiming it looked just like an ikran’s wing. And at one point, she even plopped down beside you, her large Na’vi eyes studying the datapad with intense curiosity.

"How do your fingers move so fast?" Tuk asked in awe, watching as you typed, recording the final pieces of data into the system.

You chuckled, your fingers pausing for just a moment to flex them dramatically. "Years of practice," you said, tapping the screen one last time. "When you have to type reports as often as I do, you get fast."

Tuk hummed thoughtfully, resting her chin on her hands as she leaned against you, peeking at the screen. "It looks like you're talking to the pad," she mused.

"In a way, I am," you admitted, your lips curling into a small smile. "This is how humans keep records. We don’t have memory sharing like you do with Eywa, so we have to write everything down."

Tuk scrunched her nose. "That sounds hard."

You laughed softly. "Sometimes it is."

Tuk stayed with you as you worked, her presence a welcome distraction. She would ask you small questions, tell you little stories, and at some point, she began absentmindedly playing with the strap of your mask, tugging it gently as she murmured to herself about something or another. You didn’t mind—it was nice to have her here.

Still, even with Tuk’s chatter filling the air, your gaze would involuntarily flick towards him.

Neteyam.

He was with the other warriors, standing tall among them, his frame impossibly strong, impossibly perfect despite the clear exhaustion clinging to him. Maybe no one else noticed, but you did. The slight droop of his ears, the way his shoulders weren’t held as taut as usual, the brief moments where he would exhale just a little slower than before.

He was tired.

And of course he was—he had been at the Hallelujah Mountains all day, guiding the younger warriors through their Iknimaya. And now, after all of that, he was still here, still standing, still listening as others spoke to him, still carrying the weight of expectation on his shoulders.

You marveled at him.

At how he made exhaustion look so breathtaking.

At how, even now, he looked like he had been sculpted by Eywa herself—a warrior through and through, but still, somehow, entirely yours.

"You’re staring again," Tuk whispered beside you, her voice full of teasing mischief.

Your eyes widened slightly, snapping back to your datapad as you cleared your throat. "No, I’m not," you muttered quickly, typing a little more aggressively than before.

Tuk giggled. "Yes, you are," she sing-songed, nudging you with her elbow. "You always stare at my brother like that."

You gave her an exaggeratedly stern look. "I do not."

Tuk grinned, her little tail flicking behind her. "Uh-huh.”

You groaned, shaking your head as you turned your focus firmly back onto the datapad. But despite your best efforts, your eyes still betrayed you, flickering back toward him one last time.

And for a brief second—just a second—Neteyam turned his head slightly, as if sensing you, as if feeling your gaze.

You quickly looked back at the screen, pretending to be deep in work, pretending like you hadn’t been admiring him for the past five minutes.

Tuk snickered.

And all you could do was pray that Neteyam hadn’t caught you this time.

*

The last hour had been a blur of work, subtle glances, and the occasional burst of laughter, all thanks to Tuk.

Somewhere along the way, you had surrendered to her latest demand—braiding your hair.

You sat cross-legged, letting her weave her small hands through your locks as she hummed to herself, completely immersed in her task. And if that meant keeping your head down and avoiding Neteyam’s gaze, then it was a win-win. Because Eywa help you, every time you felt his golden eyes flick in your direction, your face burned hotter than the Pandoran sun.

It was ridiculous. You had been together for months now—three years if you counted the years you had been hopelessly in love with him—but now, every single time he looked at you, you blushed like a fool.

And Neteyam?

He knew it.

You could see it in the faint smirk that pulled at his lips each time he caught you looking away too fast, in the way his tail flicked slightly when your cheeks turned pink. The man enjoyed it—enjoyed watching you fall apart under his gaze.

It was infuriating and entirely unfair.

Tuk, blissfully unaware of your turmoil, suddenly leaned back, clapping her hands together. “Done!” she chirped excitedly.

Before you could process what she had done to your hair, Neteyam walked up to you again.

Tuk beamed up at him, bouncing slightly on her toes. “Look, look! I did her hair!” she announced, motioning toward you like you were a masterpiece she had just finished sculpting.

Neteyam’s golden eyes softened as he took in your appearance, his lips twitching up as he studied Tuk’s handiwork. Your long hair had been intricately braided with small woven beads—Na’vi-style—and you had to admit, it felt strangely nice, comfortable, as if the hairstyle belonged on you.

You reached back and flicked your braid over your shoulder dramatically, grinning. “From now on, I am an honorary Omaticaya,” you declared, throwing yourself fully into Tuk’s enthusiasm.

Tuk giggled, clearly proud of her work. “Yes! Now you can’t leave! You’re one of us!”

Neteyam chuckled, crouching down next to you, his eyes drinking you in. “Not bad, Tuk,” he mused, giving his sister a small nod of approval before looking back at you, his gaze lingering. “It suits you.”

Your heart stuttered at the way he said it—low, soft, like a secret meant just for you.

Before you could respond, Norm’s voice cut through the moment. “Alright, that’s it for today.” He stood, stretching his arms above his head before looking toward the sky. The sun was already dipping below the horizon, casting the village in a warm, golden glow. His expression darkened slightly. “We need to head back before nightfall.”

Tuk’s ears twitched at his words, and before you could even stand up, she grabbed your hand.

“Nooo, wait!” she whined, holding onto you with surprising strength. “She has to stay a little longer! I still have to show her something.”

Your heart squeezed at the desperation in her voice, and Eywa help you, you found yourself looking at Norm with pleading eyes, despite already knowing exactly what his answer would be.

Norm’s jaw tightened. “Tuk—” Norm exhaled slowly, clearly conflicted. You knew he hated when humans stayed outside after dark—for good reason.  Tuk, the little menace, squeezed your hand tighter and gave Norm the biggest, roundest, most innocent eyes she could muster.

“Pleaaase, Norm?” she begged sweetly.

You almost laughed. The poor man didn’t stand a chance.

“I will bring her back later,” Neteyam interjected smoothly, his voice calm and steady, but Neteyam’s presence changed things. Neteyam, who was nothing if not responsible, who never let anything happen to you, was a different story.

Still, Norm didn’t answer right away. His gaze flicked between you and Neteyam, and you could practically see the calculations running through his head.

Finally, Norm sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he muttered. “But—not too late.” He turned his gaze to Neteyam then, his expression serious. “Bring her back safely.”

Neteyam nodded once, solemnly. “Always.”

Tuk let out a cheer, pulling you forward before Norm could change his mind.

And just like that, you were staying.

*

Your stomach twisted slightly as all eyes turned toward you. It wasn’t hostile—at least, not entirely—but it was still undeniable that you were an outlier here.

The entire clan was gathered around the fire, their massive forms crouching or sitting as they shared their evening meal. The soft glow of the flames flickered over their deep blue skin, casting warm highlights on their faces, illuminating their intricate bioluminescent markings.

This was their space, their world, and you had stayed past the time you were supposed to leave.

Jake was watching you with interest, his gaze flickering from you to Neteyam—like he was considering something. But what really made you uneasy was the sharp, disapproving look on Neytiri’s face. She didn’t speak, but her piercing amber eyes said enough.

You felt your nerves spike, every part of you screaming that this wasn’t your place.

Just as you started to back away, Tuk’s hand gripped your wrist, tugging you toward the family like she hadn’t just unknowingly pulled you into a tense, silent war zone. You glanced back nervously, expecting Neteyam to stop this—to step in and tell Tuk you should go—but when you met his gaze, his golden eyes were steady, calm in a way that made your chest tighten.

"Don’t worry," he murmured, his voice warm and reassuring.

You swallowed hard, trying not to panic, but you could feel your heart pounding against your ribs. Neytiri’s stare was like a blade, and Kiri and Lo’ak—who were sitting next to their parents—were failing miserably at hiding their amusement.

You couldn’t be here. This wasn’t your place.

"Tuk," you whispered, desperately trying to reason with her as she dragged you closer to the fire, toward her family. "I should go. I can’t be here."

Tuk, oblivious to the tension, just tightened her grip. "Don’t be silly," she chirped happily. "You’re already here! And you have to sit with us!"

Great. Fantastic. Wonderful.

Panic coiled tight in your stomach as she forced you down to sit beside her, right at the edge of the family’s circle. You barely registered the warmth of the fire as you snuck another glance at Neytiri, who had not stopped watching you.

Jake finally leaned forward slightly, tilting his head toward Neteyam. "So... what’s the deal here?" he asked, his tone casual but curious.

Neteyam didn’t even flinch. "She stayed behind with Tuk," he answered simply, his voice even.

Jake hummed, and you tried not to die on the spot.

Before you could even attempt to make a hasty escape, Tuk practically shoved a rather large purple fruit into your hands.

"Taste it!" she said eagerly. "It’s the best fruit ever!"

You blinked, glancing down at the fruit before throwing a glance toward Neteyam, silently pleading for an answer.

Is this even safe for humans?

Neteyam raised an eyebrow at you, clearly amused, but then his ears twitched slightly—his version of a shrug.

"Not that I would know," his expression seemed to say.

Your stomach sank even further.

This was a terrible idea.

*

You inhaled sharply, bracing yourself as you held your breath and pulled down your mask.

The fruit in your hands was a deep, almost unreal purple, the color seeping into the flesh beneath its thick peel. You turned it in your fingers, examining its smooth, glossy surface, your mind automatically trying to compare it to something familiar—but there was no fruit on Earth that looked like this.

You hesitated for a second longer before finally taking a cautious bite.

The moment the fruit burst on your tongue, a shockwave of flavor hit you all at once. It was sweet, but not cloying—tangy, almost citrusy, yet rich and velvety at the same time. The texture was unlike anything you’d had before, somewhere between a ripe mango and honeyed nectar.

You barely had time to process it before your lungs screamed for air, and you hurriedly snapped your mask back into place, sucking in a deep breath as the aftertaste lingered like a dream on your tongue.

Eyes wide, you turned to Neteyam first, then to Tuk, stunned.

"Woah," you breathed, your voice slightly muffled by your mask. "That’s literally the best thing I’ve ever eaten since I got to Pandora!"

Tuk beamed, bouncing slightly. "I told you!" she chirped, looking immensely proud of herself.

Across the fire, Lo’ak let out a loud laugh, his sharp teeth flashing in amusement. "Damn," he chuckled. "She looks like she just saw Eywa herself."

Kiri smirked, nudging him with her elbow. "Guess human food really is as bland as we thought," she teased.

Even Jake was grinning, his sharp eyes twinkling as he leaned back on his hands. "Didn’t expect that reaction, kid," he admitted, chuckling.

You turned back to Neteyam, flustered, but his golden eyes were already on you, soft, amused, and something else—something warm that made your stomach flip.

He didn’t say anything, just watched you with that knowing look, like he’d been waiting for this moment—watching you experience something new in his world, something that made your eyes light up.

The only one who wasn’t amused was Neytiri.

She said nothing, her face unreadable, though her sharp gaze lingered on the fruit in your hands for a second too long before flicking back to Neteyam.

You swallowed hard, suddenly acutely aware of where you were.

This wasn’t your place.

And yet…

When you looked back at Neteyam, his eyes hadn’t left yours.

For just a moment, the firelight flickered between you, and nothing else mattered.

*

The meal slowly came to an end, the soft murmur of conversations fading into the crackling of the fire as the clan settled into a more relaxed rhythm. You carefully finished the last of the fruit, the process tiring but worth it—pulling off your mask, taking a bite, then quickly putting it back on before your lungs protested for air. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but you managed, the sweet taste lingering on your tongue.

Tuk was practically glowing with happiness, her hands clasped together as she rocked excitedly on her knees beside you. "You spent the whole day with me!" she beamed, her tail swishing behind her in delight. "And you liked my fruit! You have to come back so I can show you more!"

You smiled warmly, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "I’d love that, Tuk."

But before you could say anything else, Neytiri suddenly appeared, her presence looming like a storm cloud. You barely had time to react before Tuk was practically pulled away from you, Neytiri’s firm hand grasping her daughter’s shoulder. She didn’t say a single word to you—didn’t even glance in your direction—but the message was clear.

You were not welcome here.

The warmth of the moment vanished in an instant, replaced by a cold tightness in your chest as you sat there, watching as Neytiri led Tuk away.

Lo’ak and Kiri exchanged knowing glances, their amusement from earlier dying down, though neither of them seemed particularly surprised.

Neytiri’s sharp disapproving gaze flickered toward Neteyam as she walked past, her expression unreadable but heavy with meaning. A silent warning.

But Neteyam didn’t flinch.

He met his mother’s gaze with calm, unwavering confidence, his shoulders straight, unyielding—a silent message of his own. When she finally disappeared into the shadows, you let out a slow, shaky breath, suddenly feeling the weight of the entire evening pressing down on you.

You turned to Neteyam, whispering softly, "I should go back. I already made things awkward."

Your voice was barely above a breath, but Neteyam heard you.

His golden eyes searched yours, something flickering behind them—something unreadable, something deep. Something like want…

But he didn’t argue.

He just gave you a slow, knowing nod before standing, his tail brushing against your side as he turned.

"Come," he murmured, his voice steady and warm. "I’ll walk you back."

*

You followed him through the forest, the air still warm from the lingering heat of the day, but the cool night breeze carried a soothing calmness. Above you, the sky was drenched in stars, endless and vast, stretching beyond what your eyes could comprehend. The bioluminescent flora of the forest glowed in soft blues, purples, and pinks, casting an ethereal light on everything around you. The ground beneath your boots pulsed faintly with life, every step awakening the natural world.

You had walked through this forest countless times before, mostly on his side, but somehow, it never stopped being mesmerizing. And maybe it never would.

Neteyam moved effortlessly ahead of you, his tall frame almost blending with the living, breathing world around him. The sway of his tail, the way his broad shoulders shifted with each careful step—it was like he was part of the forest itself, the embodiment of Pandora’s wild beauty.

You marveled at how different he was from you. So much taller, so much stronger—his long limbs moved with quiet power, his ears flicking at the distant sounds of nocturnal creatures. And yet, for all his strength, he was gentle.

He turned slightly, his golden eyes catching the glow of the plants, making them look even brighter, more alive.

"You’re quiet," he murmured.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. "I’m just… taking it all in," you admitted, your gaze drifting to the glowing vines that curled around the trees. "It still amazes me. The way the forest comes alive at night."

Neteyam tilted his head slightly, his expression soft. "You look at it like you’re seeing it for the first time."

"Sometimes it feels like I am," you whispered, reaching out to brush your fingertips along a bioluminescent fern. The soft light pulsed beneath your touch, responding to the contact. "I don’t think I’ll ever stop being amazed by this place."

He hummed softly, a deep, thoughtful sound, before his gaze flickered toward you again.

"I’m sorry I stayed," you said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. "I shouldn’t have. It was awkward. Your mother practically killed me with her stare."

Neteyam exhaled sharply, not quite a laugh, but close. "Tuk wanted you there," he said simply, his voice calm and assured. "So it was okay." He hesitated for a moment before adding, a little quieter, "And… I wanted you there too."

Your heart skipped a beat, warmth blooming in your chest at his words.

You glanced at him, watching the way his ears twitched slightly, as if unsure how you’d respond. But you didn’t know what to say. Because you had wanted to be there, too—with him, with his family, with the people who mattered most to him.

The sounds of the distant village still echoed behind you—laughter, the soft murmur of voices, the faint melody of a song. But as you and Neteyam continued walking, the sounds began to fade, replaced by the quiet symphony of the forest.

Neteyam’s pace was slow, deliberately matching yours.

You glanced up at him, still marveling at his height.

When he stood beside you, his palm could easily rest against the back of your head. You barely reached his waist—a fact he never teased you for, but one that was always so obvious whenever you stood next to him like this.

And yet, despite the sheer difference in size, you never felt small next to him. Never felt fragile.

Just… his.

You swallowed, keeping your eyes on the path ahead, trying not to let your thoughts drift too far. But it was difficult when he was this close, when his scent surrounded you, when you could feel the heat radiating from his skin.

And knowing that he wanted you there, just as much as you had wanted to be there…

Eywa, he made it so hard to keep your composure.

*

The night air was cool against your skin, a contrast to the warmth radiating from Neteyam beside you. You continued walking in silence, the distant hum of the village now completely gone, leaving only the symphony of the forest—soft rustling leaves, the distant call of night creatures, and the bioluminescent glow illuminating the path ahead.

And then—he stopped.

You barely had a second to react before Neteyam suddenly crouched before you, bringing himself to your level. His golden eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your breath hitch. Before you could say a word, his large hands slid around your waist, engulfing you completely, his fingers spreading wide over your ribs as if he needed to feel all of you at once.

A small, startled squeak escaped your lips as he pulled you closer, and before you could gather your thoughts, his nose pressed against your neck.

A slow, deep inhale. Then another.

His breath was warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"You know how hard it was not to touch you?" he murmured, his voice low, rough, and full of restraint.

Your heart stuttered, your fingers instinctively sliding up his muscular arms, feeling the tension there—the barely controlled want.

Your hands traveled further, moving over the ridges of his strong shoulders, stopping at the place where his neck met his shoulder. Slowly, almost unconsciously, you caressed the skin there, feeling the heat of him, the way his muscles flexed beneath your touch.

He let out a slow exhale, his grip tightening just slightly before his lips brushed against your neck.

The soft press of his mouth against your skin made you melt into him, your body molding against his as your breath hitched.

Eywa. You missed him.

Missed his touch, missed the way he could make you unravel with just a whisper, a kiss, a look.

Your fingers dug slightly into his shoulder, your body responding to him before your mind could catch up.

"Neteyam..." you whispered, not even sure what you wanted to say.

But he just hummed against your skin, pressing another slow, deliberate kiss just below your jaw, as if memorizing the taste of you all over again.

*

Neteyam kissed your neck slowly, savoring every second he had with you. Each press of his lips was deliberate, lingering, like he was committing the feeling of your skin to memory. His warm breath fanned over you, and when his lips parted slightly, his tongue barely grazing your sensitive skin, a soft gasp escaped your lips.

His hands were restless, sliding up your back, fingertips ghosting over your spine as they found their way beneath your top. His calloused fingers met your bare skin, and the contrast of rough against soft sent a shiver through you. He moved slowly, his hands mapping the contours of your back, exploring, claiming, and yet, worshipping at the same time.

"I missed you so much," he whispered against your neck, his voice husky and raw with emotion.

Your fingers tightened on his strong shoulders, your breath uneven, your heart pounding in your chest. "I missed you too," you murmured back, pressing yourself closer to him, your body desperate for more.

You took a few deep, shaky breath, holding it, and then—without hesitation—you pulled down your mask.

And kissed him.

It was fierce, desperate, your lips crashing into his as you poured every aching thought, every longing moment into it. Your fingers dug into his scalp, threading through his thick braids, pulling him impossibly closer even though there was no space left between you.

Neteyam groaned softly into the kiss, his large hand sliding up your back, his palm finding the back of your head, engulfing your skull entirely as he held you steady, taking everything you gave him and giving it back tenfold.

The heat of his mouth, the way he kissed you back with such intensity, made the rest of the world fade away. His fingers tightened in your hair, his other hand securing you against him, as if he was afraid you might slip away.

Time blurred. You didn’t know how long you kissed him, only that your lungs burned, screaming for air—but you didn’t want to stop.

But you had to.

With a shaky gasp, you tore yourself away, your lips tingling, your whole body thrumming with heat. You fumbled slightly, quickly securing your mask back into place, your breaths coming in heavy, uneven bursts.

Neteyam’s golden eyes were blazing, locked onto you as if he couldn’t look away. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his tail flicking wildly behind him, the tension in his body palpable.

And Eywa help you—all you wanted was to kiss him again.

*

As soon as you caught your breath, your chest rising and falling in deep, steady pulls, you pulled down your mask again. The cool night air kissed your skin, but nothing compared to the warmth of his presence, his touch, his lips.

You leaned forward, your hands still clutching his shoulders, your fingertips barely ghosting over his warm blue skin before you kissed him again.

Neteyam responded instantly, like he had been waiting for you to return to him. His hands tightened on your waist, his grip firm but reverent, like he couldn’t believe you were in his arms. His lips moved with desperation, with devotion, as though he was memorizing you all over again.

Then, you felt it.

His tail.

It wrapped around your calf, the movement slow, deliberate—possessive. A silent claim. The soft brush of it against your skin sent a shudder down your spine, heat pooling deep in your stomach.

The kiss deepened, and for a fleeting moment, nothing else existed.

But then, the air in your lungs thinned again, your body demanding oxygen. With a soft sigh of reluctance, you pulled away, your lips still tingling as you quickly secured your mask back into place.

As you breathed, your hands moved on their own, gliding along his shoulders, tracing the sculpted lines of his collarbone, until finally, your fingers reached his jawline.

You caressed it gently, your thumb brushing over the strong, angular lines of his face, your heart swelling with something so deep, so overwhelming that it almost frightened you.

A soft, breathy laugh escaped you as you whispered, “You are so perfect.”

Neteyam exhaled sharply, his golden eyes searching yours, his ears flicking at your words as if they physically affected him.

His tail tightened slightly around your leg in response, his hands still holding you close as his lips curled into a slow, reverent smile.

“Not as perfect as you, ma yawne,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, his forehead leaning against the glass of your mask, unwilling to let you go.

*

Neteyam pressed his head back against the crook of your neck, his breath slow, controlled—yet you could feel the tension in his body, the way his fingers dug into your waist as if he were trying to mold you against him, to make sure you wouldn’t slip away.

His deep inhale sent a shiver down your spine, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin, making you weak in his hold. His hands were desperate, firm, as if anchoring himself to reality through you, through your touch, your scent, your very presence.

He was lost in the sensation.

So lost that he didn’t even realize he had started pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck.

Your soft sighs only urged him on.

His lips traveled lower, savoring the way your skin reacted to him, the way you melted in his embrace. And then—his sharp teeth grazed you, a teasing scrape before he sank them into your skin just enough to leave a mark.

Your gasp was soft but sharp, your fingers tightening where they still clung to his shoulders.

“Neteyam...” your breath hitched, the words barely a whisper, but it was enough to make him pause.

His ears flicked, and when he pulled back slightly, his golden eyes were heavy-lidded, his pupils blown wide as they flickered from your parted lips to your fingers gingerly pressing against the mark he had just left.

A lovebite.

A visible claim.

Your eyes widened slightly as you whispered, “Everyone will see this...”

You weren’t scolding him. No, your voice lacked any true protest. It was soft, breathy, more like you were stating a fact—one that sent a bolt of heat through your veins.

A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of Neteyam’s lips. He didn’t look the least bit apologetic. If anything, he looked proud. Still holding you close, he reached for your wrist, his fingers wrapping gently but securely around it as he brought your hand closer to his lips.

His golden gaze softened as he turned your hand over, brushing his lips against the tender skin just above the bracelet he had given you months ago.

“Good,” he murmured against your skin, his voice deep, full of certainty.

The word sent a shiver through your body, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

You swallowed, watching him through half-lidded eyes, your breath shallow as you felt the heat of his lips linger on your wrist.

Neteyam’s tail wrapped around your thigh now, securing you even closer as his golden eyes flicked back up to meet yours.

His expression was something unreadable, a mix of possessiveness, longing, and something deeper—something unspoken.

And all you could do was stand there, trapped in his gravity, in his warmth, in him.

*

Neteyam closed his eyes, a slow exhale leaving his lips as he kept your hand in his grasp. His fingers, large and warm, cradled your smaller palm as though it was something fragile, precious.

Without a word, he guided your hand to his cheek, pressing it gently against his skin, leaning into your touch like it was the only thing tethering him to the ground.

His breathing was deep, slow, controlled—but only just.

You could feel the way his jaw clenched beneath your palm, the way his muscles tightened slightly under your fingers. But then he sighed, a deep, contented sound, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders just by feeling your touch.

The warmth of his skin, the contrast of his blue complexion against your human fingers, was mesmerizing. The bioluminescent freckles on his cheekbone glowed softly beneath your touch, shifting subtly with every breath he took.

And then, in a voice so low, so raw with emotion that it sent a shiver down your spine, he whispered,

"You don’t know how much I want you."

Your breath caught in your throat.

The sheer honesty in his words, the quiet desperation, the way his ears flicked slightly back, the tension in his shoulders despite his relaxed posture—it was overwhelming.

Your thumb, acting on its own, brushed softly against his cheekbone, tracing the faint ridges of his skin. He shuddered under your touch, his grip tightening just a little around your wrist as if to keep you close, to make sure you wouldn’t pull away.

The weight of his confession settled between you, thick with unspoken longing.

You could feel it in the way he held you, in the way his tail curled around your leg possessively, in the way his breathing deepened as if trying to steady himself.

And Eywa help you, because you wanted him too.

More than anything.

Part 17: Soon

Should I write boombaya scene or not?

[lovesickf-fics]

Hex tech and sex toys

tw : Hexstrap, Strap on, t4t relationship, t4t characters, begging, playing with tcock, light slapping, talking through it, praise

Ship mention : Jayvik (Jayce x Viktor) Arcane

Summary : Long nights at the lab require some tlc and winding down. There's always one way for Viktor to get Jayce relaxed for the evening

Relaxation doesn't come easy to the pair of them, and while their evenings are less argument filled than the beginning of their experiments, it still takes a little more than just going to bed for them to manage to sleep.

That's what started this problem, late nights at the lab, high tensions, and a little too much sexual chemistry, plus their conversations dipping into all sorts of things as the clock turning from late to early hours, it was inevitable that something was to happen.

That was a while ago now, and every night, they have a similar routine. Tonight is no different from that.

The lab shut down and in darkness, a hand held walk back to the bedroom and as soon as the door shuts, lips are against eachother.

Viktor pushes Jayce back against the door and jayce lets him, it comes naturally, the flow between them, how viktor leads and how jayce behaves.

Viktor strips him, letting his fingers trace Jayce's scars, a chest he finds to be perfectly sculpted for the man infront of him, how by the time viktor gets his pants off theres already a boner and a wet patch in his boxers. Only causing more of a smirk to be on his face.

Jayce whimpers, he'd say its the cold, he always did whenever viktor would ask, and thats why he was lead to the bed. Every single time that whimper was a sign to move.

And so they did. With Jayce soaked already and the sheets surrounding him, Viktor began stripping himself, letting jayce watch in the way he discovered the larger man liked so much.

His own body was carved, his scars darker than the rest of him, and his body shaped to his own design, Jayce's eyes dont leave his body, trailing down where the fabric was laying seconds before.

When viktor goes to lean forward its Jayce that jumps, grabbing the toy they use so frequently now that its perfected. Made by them - for them and them alone.

He takes it from Jayce, putting it on and the mechanisms hiss into place, the thrum of hex tech sparking the length to life. They both cant stop the smiles on their faces, an experiment that works perfect and a feeling that makes it worth it all

And it is so worth it designed to rub perfectly against viktor, a small nook for his tcock to thrust into and the length crafted for jayce to feel every inch at it's absolute most.

Putting it on viktor lets out a sigh of relief, ready to take out any frustrations of the day onto jayce and jayce spreads his legs a little further in anticipation, waiting on the command.

"Well go on, strip."

He jumps again, rushing to tug his boxers off, ignoring how theyre tight around his thighs and wet in the center, his tcock hard and cunt dripping.

Viktor lines up, adjusting himself on the bed so he's comfortable and gently nudges the tip against Jayce's anticipating hole

"Viktor please hurry up- please"

Viktor hushes him, taking his hand, gently dragging the tips of his fingers down across Jayce's cock, watching how it bounces back up and how it twitches from his colder touch.

He presses his palm against it, enjoying the pressure in his cupped hand and the way jayce tries to rock back onto his strap and his hand, Viktor watches, enjoying the way his face goes red and how his eyelashes get wet even without the tears.

He pulls his hand away, relishing in the pathetic sound Jayce makes without thinking, like its natural and raw and his

Viktor shushes him once more, leaning forward a little, slipping the tip in, Jayce's cunt swallowing it like a starved man would food. The sounds of his cunt and his moans fill the bedroom.

Even with just the tip inside, Jayce is debauched, he's flushed down to his chest, the hair looking darker against his red toned skin and his face getting wet with sweat. He tries to hold still, even with his hips moving and legs shaking he tries so hard to be good

"That's it Jayce, you're holding up well this time. Do you want more?"

"Yes! yes viktor, i want more i want more please"

The words leave his mouth in a babble, messy and rushed, and viktor obliges, Sliding to the base in a single movement.

Jayce almost sobs as he thanks viktor, and he lays there bare and sweaty as viktor starts moving.

Viktor thrusts slow, beginning to find his pace, back and forth and back and forth, Jayce's body moves with him, his curves bouncing, and his head flung back.

The strap harness rubs viktor just right, made to make him overstimulated as he forces himself into jayce's wet hole over and over again, both of them getting needier and needier as it drags them to the edge over and over.

As they get closer Jayce starts to talk more, he always does and the babbles are so simple

"Please viktor? please it's so good, it feels good, your cock is fucking perfect, we did it so fucking well we're so clever please please can i cum?"

Viktor simply hums, biting back the moan that rises with the begging and praise and he fucks harder, not by much but it makes it hit everywhere jayce needs and the pressure against his cock is exactly what he needed.

They cum together, seeing white, eyes shut and bodies tensing and relaxing in time with the spurts that soak the harnesses inside and the length in its entirety.

With the toy soaked and their chests rising and falling, viktor pulls out and releases the clasps on his hips, letting jayce put it away while he lays there, they cuddle - they'll say reluctantly but in reality they enjoy the warmth and jayce enjoys tracing circles into Viktors hips while theyre bodies tangle

[dindjarindiaries]

Omega and Crosshair's story in The Bad Batch season 3 mirrors Hunter and Omega's story in The Bad Batch season 1, but with Omega taking on Hunter's role and Crosshair taking on Omega's.

Something the show did really well in season 3 was prove just how far Omega has come, and how she's become so much like all her brothers in different ways. Personally, I see a lot of Hunter in her, mainly for the way she's always tried to emulate him ever since season 1. That's what started to lead me on this path to discovering that, in season 3, she takes on Hunter's previous role from season 1, especially where Crosshair is concerned.

As always with any analysis, this is a disclaimer that you may view these episodes in an entirely different way due to various biases, one of the most notable being based upon your own favorite characters and your own life experience. All I ask is that you read through carefully before chiming in with any counterarguments!

The basis of this analysis, or at least what clued me in to this, are these two moments, and the similarities of the stories Hunter & Omega and Omega & Crosshair have in seasons 1 and 3, respectively.

It's important to note straightaway that these two stories do not line up exactly the same. There are, rather, thematic similarities, and enough potential parallels that bring everything together just enough to show us how everything falls into place and brings season 1 full circle in season 3.

At the beginning of season 3, Omega and Crosshair are both imprisoned in the same place. Regardless, they're both being treated very differently. Omega has more of an illusion of freedom in having time on her own while she tends to her tasks. Crosshair, on the other hand, is either held in his cell or is actively being tortured/conditioned.

Metaphorically, this was also where Hunter (and the rest of the Batch) and Omega were in season 1, too. Hunter and the boys had the illusion of freedom in getting to leave Kamino and participate in missions, but they still had a duty to serve the Republic with no real choice ever being presented. Omega, on the other hand, was confined to Kamino, even kept hidden for the most part as Nala Se's lab assistant.

The dynamic between Omega and Crosshair shifts when Omega gets older. As I pointed out in this analysis, Omega's growth, and her shift into the role of Hunter, is made evident through the use of shadows when she talks to Crosshair in his cell. When she's younger, she looks as if she has Crosshair's marksman tattoo. When she's older, the left half of her face is concealed in a shadow, like Hunter's skull tattoo.

While this is showing Omega's growth by taking her from emulating the youngest of the Batch to the oldest, it's also foreshadowing how Crosshair is going to be taking on younger Omega's role, too.

It kicks off the strongest in episode 3, when it's time to make their escape. Omega insists on freeing Crosshair and taking him with her, despite him telling her that she should've left him behind—and that he wouldn't have thought twice about leaving her behind, either. But Omega refused to leave him behind. Why?

She's one of us. We're not leaving her there.

She learned that lesson from Hunter, who brought his entire squad back to Kamino just to free her from where she was being confined. Omega, now embodying Hunter's role, does the same for Crosshair here. She takes the risk to come free him and to make their escape together.

From then on, Omega actually calls a lot of the shots, if not all of them. Like Hunter, she's the strategist, guiding Crosshair but also considering and listening to his insight. Crosshair obeys, albeit more reluctantly than Omega used to obey Hunter—although she still used to protest if Hunter was sidelining her for her protection, so there are a few little similarities there.

(I would be remiss not to note here that the only glimpses we really get of Omega being a child again rather than the leader she learned to be from Hunter is when she's actually with Hunter. The face she makes when she runs to him during their reunion, melting into his embrace, snuggling Lula on the Marauder, leaning her head on his shoulder on Pabu... he's the safe space where she can fully relax and just be a kid again, because even if she's always gonna be Hunter for others, he's the only Hunter for her.)

After the reunion, we see Crosshair struggling at first to be back with his squad as their new history stands between them, mostly due to Crosshair's own guilt and hesitance and Hunter's desire to learn more and understand what happened. Because of their issues, Hunter doesn't have the established trust he needs yet to help Crosshair the way Omega can. That's why Omega, in a way, takes on the role Hunter used to have in Crosshair's life—at least, in this season.

Omega is very protective of Crosshair during this time, in a way that's reminiscent of how fiercely protective Hunter always has been of Omega. Of course, Crosshair is also very protective of Omega, too, and we also saw this with Omega regarding Hunter (and the others) in season 1. She was constantly worried about them when they were on missions without her, and that relieved way she says Hunter's name when she realizes he's alive after his shootout with Cad Bane will always get me.

The biggest thematic similarity between season 1 Omega and season 3 Crosshair, however, is their motivation, as far as the rest of the squad is concerned. Omega tries her hardest to earn their trust and their approval by training with her bow, strategizing, following orders, and more. Crosshair wants the same thing; he wants to regain the trust and approval he had from his brothers before everything happened. He practices shooting with his rifle and is frustrated when he can't protect them the way he wants to.

Just as Omega's past haunted her in the form of bounty hunters throughout season 1, Crosshair's past haunts him in the form of his hand tremor and CX-2. Omega's worst fear became returning to Kamino, and Crosshair's is returning to Tantiss. This is what they're trying to run from the entire season, despite the fact that all paths start to lead right back to those places.

Eventually, the Empire becomes a threat again, and escape becomes impossible for season 1 Hunter and season 3 Omega, respectively. Both of them give themselves up to protect others. Hunter orders Tech to leave him on Daro, while Omega insists on turning herself in to protect Pabu and her brothers. They both do so without fear, intent on either getting themselves out of their situation or depending on their squad to help them.

(Crosshair technically substituting for Tech here, too... I'm emotional.)

This is when we get the pinnacle of season 1 Omega's and season 3 Crosshair's arcs: they go back to the place they fear the most solely for the sake of their Hunter-figure. This action alone proves the growth they've done over the course of the story, as the trust, connection, and love they truly, deeply have for that person they look up to encourages them to be brave and to face their greatest fears to save them.

Season 1 Omega returns to Kamino for Hunter, and season 3 Crosshair returns to Tantiss for Omega. We all know that Omega is exhibiting peak Hunter behavior here as she looks after the younger children imprisoned with her to help them escape, but that's beside the point currently. We fast forward to their reunions, when the immediate threat is gone and the Hunter-figures realize what their Omega-figures sacrificed to save them.

Not only that, but they're also reminded that it was because of their own initial actions that the Omega-figures found the bravery and inspiration to conquer their fear. Season 1 Omega reminds Hunter that he had gone back to Kamino for her first, and season 3 Crosshair doesn't have to say anything for Omega to remember the way she risked her own escape attempt to free him from his cell first. They never gave up on each other.

I, of course, don't miss the significance of Hunter being in the latter scene when this all happens. Again, while Omega may act like Hunter to many others, only Hunter himself can take on that role in her own life. Here, Hunter gets to see how his actions when they first took in Omega have influenced her and, now, his youngest brother. It's such a heartfelt and rewarding full-circle moment, with Omega being the mend between these two formerly torn-apart brothers. It's such a large step ahead from where they were before.

The epilogue essentially becomes a lighthearted display of the similarities between Hunter and Omega. He stresses that he and his brothers want to keep her safe, and after reassuring him that she will be, she asks him to look over their other two brothers—proving that both of them are still protective as Hunter-figures over those they see as their Omega-figures. All the while, of course, they're protective over one another, too, even if it goes without saying.

Essentially, Hunter became who he had to be to take care of Omega, and Omega followed that example to take care of Crosshair. This is, in my opinion, probably why we didn't get as much Hunter and Omega in season 3 as we did Crosshair and Omega, but not for the reason many may think. It was because Omega was already in Hunter's role, and Crosshair was in Omega's role.

It's really sweet to see how full circle the story has come from season 1. Crosshair is getting the treatment and attention Omega got in season 1, but he's getting it from Omega herself, because that's what Crosshair really needed. Hunter couldn't be in that role anymore because of their own hurt—plus, their relationship is just different. Instead, we get to see what Omega learned being passed on as she grew, and how it ultimately helped to heal Crosshair and the rest of them.

If you enjoyed this analysis, here are some other ones I've done:

Hunter and Crosshair in "The Return"

Crosshair taking the shot in "The Calvary Has Arrived"

[theoneandonlysemla]

Sujamma Sundas!

Thank you for the tag @skyrim-forever 💞

Tagging: @dirty-bosmer @friend-of-giants @firefly-factory @illumiera @hircines-hunter @lillxart @ladytanithia @pocket-vvardvark @rakaiawriter @sheirukitriesfandom @sanza-17

Topic: This week, Sujamma wants to know about YOUR OC's special someone. What makes their relationship special? How did they meet? Were they enemies to lovers? Lovers to enemies? Lovers AND Enemies? Are they romantic or platonic? What's their favorite way to cuddle? Favorite date night? Anything and everything you can think of 💕

Ohhh, do I need to decide who I'll be talking about here? Can I talk about all my main couples? :P

Let's start with Nevri and Morotar. What makes them special is him being a detestable cunt and her being the one to hit him on the head for it. They actually got to know each other because he saved her and Canmal's life when they were attacked by Boethiah's cultist. Back then he was "a mercenary" and travelled with them back to Winterhold, where they decided to hire him for getting Goldbrand. And while travelling, Nevri did fall for his looks and cunty character and the rare times he can be nice :P (She's vulnerable, okay??) One thing comes to another and after they got closer, everything falls apart. With DwD 2 their story goes on, Morotar has a severe loss of memories but as their paths cross again, he does one thing: he knows her. A lot of pushing away from her follows until they do get closer again (she has good reason for that) while he will utterly fall for her 😩❤️ I don't know how their story will end and what will come of them, but I love to picture them together in a calm future. Anyway, I guess they go like: strangers -> reluctant friends -> lovers -> enemies -> strangers -> whatever the fuck that mess is they are in in part 2 Thinking about it, they'd love to cuddle in a bed and have their peace together and I often picture how Nevri washes his hair and he does enjoy that so much because someone cares for him. Their idea of a date night might be sparring or something :P

Going on with my favourite toxic couple: Ancano and Faralda! These two idiots started out as... let's call it colleagues and the entire thing became a secret work place romance at the College of Winterhold. Until Ancano's toxic ass fucked up big time after gaslighting the shit out of Faralda and cheated on her with Nirya. Nirya does thing she has won, but ... the price is foul🤢 Anyway, they do have a toxic rebound after Ancano got stabbed by a certain Dunmer woman mentioned in the text before. For Faralda is really is the last time this has happened, until she sees him being a yearning mess for her and decides to play with him. Currently, we're at the phase where her sadism really spirals out of control (good for her). As they do not have a traditional relationship, I'd say their idea of a date is a little strange. Ancano would like to have her only for him and longs for her attention. He'd cuddle with her after sex, to keep the appearance that it means more to him but he's not really a cuddler. After he cheated in her, Faralda does want to cuddle with anyone but him :P Her perfect idea of a date is her throwing rocks at him ❤️

And here we are with my most fucked up couple, that is poor Ria and Mannimarco. Hell, she chose the worst man. But my bf likes to argue that Ancano is worse because he's racist and Mannimarco is too egocentric to be really racist 😆 Well, let's see. She is absolute delulu and unhappy in the place she is now, serving a group of men (ew) in a dilapitating fort. And there comes her worm knight in shining armour... or red cloak... to her rescue. He infiltrates her brain until she falls for him and she is absolutely and utterly in love with him. Too bad that he sees her as his little experiment. But that does not hold him back from fucking the lab rat. He's nasty like that ❤️ You could say, it is a very romantic gothic horror lovestory that I'm crafting there and so their ideal date would be basically what I've written in chapter two, just having sex in a fairy ring under the moonlight. And for Manni it may include feeding her corpses and counting how many maggots he can pull out of her orifices. Well... yeah. That's that!

[mintyys-blog]

Peter Parker x Reader x Doppelgänger! Peter Parker: The Perfect Peter

WARNINGS: identify theft, SMUT, blood, character death.

MINORS DNI

You weren’t sure when it started.

At first, you thought Peter was just being different lately—more confident, more flirty, more… bold.

Peter Parker had always been your best friend. Smart, kind, a little awkward, but always someone you could count on.

But then, one day, he had started looking at you differently.

Touching your hand longer than necessary.

Leaning in closer than usual.

And the most dangerous part?

You liked it.

You liked the way his voice dropped lower when he whispered to you.

You liked the way his eyes lingered on your lips.

You liked the way your heart pounded every time he smirked at you like he knew something you didn’t.

For months, he kept pushing the boundaries of your friendship.

And eventually… you fell.

You fell for Peter Parker.

But what you didn’t know—what you couldn’t have known—was that the Peter you had fallen for wasn’t the one you had always known.

He was an imposter.

A perfect copy.

A doppelgänger.

And you had no idea.

You had been avoiding it for weeks—telling Peter how you felt.

Not because you were scared.

But because you knew he already felt the same way.

Or at least… you thought you did.

So when you finally decided to take the plunge, to do something about the tension between you, you didn’t hesitate.

It was supposed to be him.

The Peter who flirted with you.

The Peter who made your head spin.

But instead, it was the real one.

And you didn’t realize it until it was too late.

You found him in the lab, standing near the counter, looking at something on his tablet.

Without thinking, without a second of doubt, you stepped forward, grabbed the fabric of his hoodie, and pulled him into a kiss.

A real one.

A bold one.

A this-is-it, let’s-stop-pretending kind of kiss.

For a moment, there was nothing but the warmth of his lips, the softness of the moment—

And then, to your absolute horror—

Peter pulled away.

Eyes wide.

Mouth slightly open.

Confused.

Like he had no idea what had just happened.

Like he hadn’t been the one flirting with you for months.

Your heart stopped.

“…What are you doing?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blinked. “I—I thought—”

He took a small step back. “Y/N, I—I don’t—” He ran a hand through his hair, looking utterly lost. “I didn’t think you saw me like that.”

And just like that, your stomach dropped.

Because you realized, in one mortifying instant—he didn’t feel the same.

You still couldn’t shake the embarrassment of what had happened in the lab.

Kissing Peter—only to have him pull away, confused, like he hadn’t spent months driving you crazy—was a wound that refused to stop stinging.

But when you confronted him later, he had looked at you with knowing eyes, lips twitching in amusement as he cornered you in the hallway.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

You frowned. “You—” Your voice dropped into a hushed whisper. “You acted like you didn’t know what was happening!”

He blinked, head tilting. “Well, I mean… you caught me off guard.”

Your brows furrowed. “But you—” You exhaled sharply. “You’ve been teasing me for weeks, Peter.”

Something flickered in his expression—an almost guilty look—but it disappeared quickly, replaced with a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah, but not in front of them,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “You—uh—you really put me on the spot there, Y/N.”

Your stomach twisted. “So you do feel the same?”

His jaw clenched, as if waging an internal battle. But then, his signature smirk returned, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Would I have spent all this time chasing you if I didn’t?”

And just like that, the tension unraveled.

The doubt disappeared.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your heart pounding from the way he looked at you—like he was letting his guard down, just for you.

You had been overthinking it.

He hadn’t rejected you.

He had just gotten flustered.

Everything was fine.

Everything was perfect.

And you never once stopped to question why something still felt off.

Never once wondered if the Peter Parker standing in front of you was the same one you had always known.

Because, as far as you were concerned…

He was.

And that was all that mattered.

You never thought Peter Parker would be the type to want a secret relationship.

But when he pulled you aside one night, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Let’s keep this just between us for now,” it had sent a thrill through you.

He had given you that boyish, lopsided smirk, his fingers tangling with yours as he added, “I just don’t like PDA, sweetheart. It’s better this way.”

And you hadn’t questioned it.

Not when he still snuck into your room late at night, whispering sweet nothings against your skin.

Not when he still kissed you like you were the only thing keeping him breathing.

Not when he still looked at you like he had won the greatest prize in the world.

So you kept it a secret.

You kept your distance in public.

You avoided lingering touches.

You stopped reacting when Peter Parker was around other people.

Because you knew he didn’t want anyone to know.

Because you trusted him.

And you never once thought to question why.

When Peter pulled you aside one evening, there was something different in his eyes—something unsure, something hesitant.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said.

Your brows furrowed. “What? No, I haven’t.”

His jaw clenched. “Then what was that in the lab?”

Your stomach twisted. “Peter, I told you—it wasn’t what you think.”

“That’s the problem,” he said, voice low. “I don’t know what to think.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”

Peter exhaled, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “I feel like I’m losing you, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched.

Losing you?

How could he say that when he had you—when he kissed you, when he held you, when he—

“I don’t want that,” he continued, his voice softer now. “I don’t want to lose you. I just… I feel like we don’t talk anymore. I miss you.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest.

But confusion lingered in your mind, pressing against your ribs like an aching weight.

“I—” You hesitated. “Peter… we do talk. We’re together all the time.”

Peter froze.

His eyes flickered with something unreadable before he let out a quiet, stunned laugh.

“What?”

You blinked. “Peter, what’s going on with you? We’ve been dating—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before his expression dropped.

Like you had just spoken in a language he didn’t understand.

Like you had grown two heads.

“We’ve been what?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stared at him, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest.

“…Dating?”

His entire body went still.

Your mouth felt dry. “Peter… we’ve been together. For weeks. Are you messing with me?”

Peter swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Y/N,” he said carefully, slowly, “we’ve never dated.”

Your stomach dropped.

“That’s not funny, Peter,” you whispered.

He took a step forward, his expression serious, his brown eyes searching yours. “I’m not joking.”

You shook your head. “No. That doesn’t make any sense. You—” You inhaled sharply, your mind racing. “It’s like you’re two different people sometimes—”

Peter’s breath hitched.

And suddenly, everything shifted.

His expression morphed into something unreadable.

His hands curled into fists.

And when he spoke again, his voice was laced with something dark, something fearful.

“…What do you mean by that?”

Peter’s heart pounded in his chest.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, his voice quieter now—more cautious.

You hesitated. “I don’t know. It’s just… sometimes you act different. Like you’re two people.”

His throat tightened.

His mind raced.

Two people.

That didn’t make sense. That couldn’t make sense.

But your words rattled inside his skull, sinking into the cracks of his confusion, settling into something terrifyingly real.

His grip on reality wavered as a horrifying thought crept into his mind.

What if… What if he wasn’t imagining things?

What if the reason you had been avoiding him… Was because you thought you were already with him? His pulse roared in his ears.

“Y/N,” he said, forcing himself to stay calm, “tell me exactly what you mean.”

You frowned, clearly growing frustrated. “I don’t know, Peter! It’s like… sometimes you’re different. Sometimes you’re distant, like you don’t even know me, and then other times you’re so—” You cut yourself off, shaking your head. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like there are two versions of you.”

Peter swallowed hard. There were two versions of him. But that should have been impossible.

And yet— You had been kissing someone who looked like him. You had been dating someone who acted like him. And Peter—the real Peter—had no idea who the hell it was.

A heavy weight settled in his stomach. Something was very, very wrong.

“Y/N,” he said slowly, carefully, “when did we start dating?”

You gave him an incredulous look. “You seriously don’t remember?”

“Just… tell me,” he pressed, his fingers tightening into fists.

You sighed. “A few weeks ago. It just… happened.”

Peter’s blood ran cold. A few weeks ago. A few weeks ago, when he had sworn he felt like someone was watching him.

A few weeks ago, when things in his room had felt slightly off. A few weeks ago, when you had started pulling away.

His mind whirled with fragmented memories, with moments that suddenly didn’t feel like coincidences anymore.

Someone had taken his place. Someone had taken you. And no one had noticed. Not even you.

Peter inhaled sharply.

“Tell me more about him.”

It was late when you returned to your room after a long, exhausting day. The Tower had been on edge ever since the events with the doppelgänger Peter, but no one could fully explain why it still felt… wrong. You tried to ignore it, to pretend like everything was okay, but you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something wasn’t right.

As you entered your room, you noticed the dim light of a lamp flickering. You hadn’t left it on, but you didn’t think much of it. What caught your attention was the figure sitting on your bed, legs crossed casually, leaning against the headboard. Peter—well, the other Peter—was waiting for you, the same soft, confident smile on his face.

“Hey,” he said casually, voice low and smooth, the kind of tone that always seemed to ease any tension around him. “I knew you’d be coming back soon.”

You blinked at him, a little surprised. “What are you doing here?”

He chuckled, not fazed in the least by your confusion. “Just waiting for you. You’ve been on my mind, you know?”

You hesitated. It had become increasingly difficult to ignore how much attention he was giving you, how much he seemed to care. But there was something off about it. Still, when he looked at you with those soft, familiar eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. He was Peter, after all—just… different.

“You’ve been waiting for me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For this,” he said, his grin widening just a little. He patted the bed beside him, motioning for you to sit. “You’ve been avoiding me lately. I thought I’d take the chance to finally talk to you.”

You lingered near the door, crossing your arms over your chest. You hadn’t told anyone about the lingering feeling you’d had since that kiss—how something about Peter’s behavior felt off. But you also weren’t sure if it was just your mind playing tricks on you, or if the doppelgänger had left you questioning your own perception of reality.

“You know,” he continued, his voice dropping to a more playful tone, “I was thinking about our… little moment the other day.”

You froze for a moment, confused by his words. “Moment?”

“The kiss,” he clarified, his smile softening into something more intimate. “It was nice, wasn’t it?”

Your heart raced, an unsettling feeling spreading through your chest. You had kissed Peter that night, hadn’t you? But… you weren’t sure which Peter it had been. The idea that it could’ve been the fake one filled you with unease, though you tried not to let it show. He was acting as if everything was perfectly normal, as if you should’ve known it was him all along. And you… you couldn’t be sure anymore.

“It was…,” you began slowly, unsure of how to answer. “It was fine. But I don’t think we should…”

“Don’t think we should what?” he interrupted, his voice dripping with a playful edge. “It’s not like it was a mistake. You felt something, I know you did. I felt it too.”

His words made your pulse spike. You had felt something, hadn’t you? There was a comfort in the way he made you feel at ease, in the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say. You couldn’t deny that. But there was a nagging feeling, deep down, that you were missing something—something important.

“Look, Peter,” you said, trying to keep the tension in your voice from showing, “I think we should slow down. I’m still not sure what’s going on with everything.”

He didn’t take offense to your words. In fact, he only leaned forward a little, tilting his head as he looked at you with such intensity it made your breath catch.

“I understand,” he said, his tone softening. “I know things are weird right now. But I’m here for you. Whenever you’re ready.”

You swallowed, the weight of the situation pressing on your chest. There was something intoxicating about the way he looked at you, how he always made you feel like you were the only person in the room. You did feel something for him. You couldn’t deny it, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

And maybe that was why you didn’t pull away when he reached out to touch your hand. His fingers brushed against yours, and for a moment, it was like time slowed down. His touch was warm, and you couldn’t bring yourself to let go.

“Peter, I—”

“It’s okay,” he whispered, cutting you off as his thumb ran across your knuckles. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I just wanted you to know that I care about you.”

Your heart raced in your chest. You felt the pull toward him—no, toward Peter. But was it the real Peter? Or was it the one who had been playing a role in your life all along?

But before you could think it through, his face softened, his eyes searching yours. “It’s alright. You don’t have to answer me now.” He pulled back slightly, letting the moment linger. “But I want you to know, whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

Your eyes fluttered as you felt yourself drawn in, caught in the haze of his presence. His words hung in the air like a promise, one you weren’t sure you were ready to make.

“I’ll… think about it,” you murmured, though you weren’t sure you believed yourself. He held onto your waist, pulling you down on his lap. “You know you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen?”

“Peter!” You gasped when his hands went under your shirt, unclasping your bra lazily. “What?” He asks innocently, his brown eyes, why did they look more black than brown? “I..I mean— we haven’t, uh, I haven’t um… done this before..” you said shyly, gripping the end of your shirt, he smiles, “it’s okay, baby, let me take care of you.” He takes off your shirt, letting it and your bra drop off the bed. He eyes your reaction, how you averted your eyes from him, “look at me baby, I wanna see your pretty face” you do as he said, and he traps you in a kiss.

He slips off your shorts, leaving you bare before him. He flipped you over, taking in the beauty of your body. “You drive me crazy, Y/N.” he stripped off his own clothes, leaning down to kiss you again. His hands playing with your body, pumping one hand in your warmth, while the other gripped at your breast. Pinching and playing with your nipple. He kisses your neck and you squeeze your legs around his hips, “Peter..!”

He pulled his fingers after you came, panting heavily. “You did so well, baby” he sucks on your neck. “but I need more,”

You gasped as he entered your pussy, your virgin walls stretching to accommodate his size. He was slow and you almost saw his eyes go black— was your eyes playing tricks on you? You tried not to focus on it as he continued to snap his hips into yours. You squeezed around him, you came numerous times. His grip on your thighs was bruising. You could feel yourself on the verge of passing out from exhaustion, his face, his eyes, were pitch black.

It was the last thing you saw before you passed out.

Peter’s hands trembled as he turned the knob to your bedroom door.

Something deep in his gut told him he shouldn’t be here.

That he shouldn’t have to be here.

Because you should have known.

You should have realized.

But as he pushed the door open, his entire body locked up—because there, tangled in your sheets, was him.

Or at least—the thing pretending to be him.

And you.

Laying against him.

Your fingers resting gently against his chest, your breath slow and even.

And him—His imposter—His thief—Sitting there playing with your hair.

Casually.

Like he belonged there.

Peter’s stomach lurched.

His breathing turned shallow.

Because now, up close—now that he wasn’t blinded by his own disbelief—he saw it.

The subtle differences.

The slightly too-sharp grin.

The way his head tilted just a bit too far.

The way his fingers lingered against you, possessive and unyielding.

It wasn’t him.

It wasn’t him.

And he had touched you, and you let it. Blissfully unaware of the monster you let in your bed.

Peter’s chest heaved.

And before he could stop himself, he stepped forward. “Get away from her.”

The doppelgänger froze.

Then, slowly—lazily—he turned his head.

And smiled.

“You’re late,” he murmured.

Peter felt something hot—something dangerous—curl inside him. “Get. Away. From her.”

The thing in your bed only chuckled.

And then—It hissed.

Low and guttural, its lips peeling back like an animal, revealing teeth that were too sharp—too unnatural.

Peter barely had time to react before it lunged.

You woke to the sound of yelling.

At first, it was distant—like a dream.

Then— A crash. A snarl.

Your eyes shot open, your heart pounding.

And what you saw—Made your stomach drop.

Two Peters.

Fighting.

No—Not fighting.

One was attacking, wild and animalistic—its skin darkening, its nails lengthening into claws.

Your breath hitched. “Peter—”

Your voice barely left your throat before you saw the bruises on your thighs—before you felt the soreness against your skin.

Your stomach twisted.

This morning. The kisses. The hands trailing over your body. The marks left behind.

Your blood ran cold.

Your entire world tilted.

“Get away from him!”

You barely knew what you were doing before you grabbed the nearest thing—a heavy trophy off the shelf—and swung.

CRACK.

The thing wearing Peter’s face staggered. Its head was dented in, bleeding black goo.

And in an instant—The real Peter was in front of you, chest heaving, arms spread protectively.

You stared at him—your mind struggling, fighting to keep up— And then your eyes drifted. To the monster on the floor. To the thing that had kissed you. That had touched you.

That had lied to you.

Even as its face bled, even as its skin turned black, even as it healed before your eyes.

It grinned.

Like it knew something you didn’t.

Peter stiffened in front of you, his muscles locked with tension, his web-shooters ready.

And for the first time— You realized—You had been in love with a monster.

Peter could feel the weight of the silence between you both. The tension in the room was suffocating, the air thick with unspoken words and things that neither of you were ready to admit—yet.

He looked at you—his eyes full of concern, full of guilt, his heart aching for you. But more than that, he was terrified. Terrified that this wasn’t just a momentary horror. Terrified that the monster wasn’t gone for good.

Peter’s voice broke the silence first. “I don’t understand. How did he—how did he get so close to you without me noticing?”

Your gaze flitted away from him for a moment, a mix of confusion and exhaustion settling on your features. “I—I don’t know. I didn’t see it. I thought it was just…”

“Just what?” Peter interjected, his tone sharp with frustration, his hands fidgeting at his sides as if he wanted to hold you—comfort you—but was afraid he might make everything worse. “You thought it was me, didn’t you?”

You hesitated before nodding, feeling your stomach twist with the shame that followed. “I didn’t know, Peter. You were different at times, but I—I thought I was just imagining it. Maybe it was… I don’t know. Stress, or something. It didn’t seem like it was anything serious.”

Peter stepped closer to you, his jaw clenched, his fists tightening. “That’s the thing…”

You looked up at him, your voice almost a whisper. “I didn’t know until it was too late.”

He could see the brokenness in your eyes, the shame, the betrayal. He reached out, but stopped when he saw the hickeys on your neck, the bruises on your thighs. His chest tightened.

“I should’ve known,” Peter murmured. “I should’ve noticed sooner. But I was so stupid—so blind.”

You shook your head, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “No. It wasn’t your fault. He’s… good at what he does. He’s been watching you, pretending to be you for weeks, hasn’t he?”

Peter’s eyes flickered with realization. “Yeah…”

You were silent for a moment, your gaze distant. “But what if it was always him? What if everything we’ve done, everything we’ve shared… was never real?”

“It’s not your fault!” He said softly, his voice cracking as he touched your shoulder.

“I know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But it doesn’t stop the fact that I let him in. That I let him touch me. That I…”

“You didn’t know,” Peter interrupted, taking a step forward and gently grabbing your hands. “You didn’t know. And I’m not going to blame you for it. We’ll figure this out. Together.”

You glanced up at him, and for a brief second, you thought you saw the flicker of hope in his eyes. But it was fleeting, just like everything else in this twisted mess.

“How do we fix this?” you asked, barely able to keep the tears at bay. “How do we… get him out of our lives?”

Peter didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at the door, as if expecting it to burst open any moment. His mind was racing. He knew what needed to be done, but the question remained: Where do we start?

The air was tense as Peter paced back and forth in the living room. You stood by the window, looking out into the darkened streets below, as if expecting the doppelgänger to emerge from the shadows once more.

“I need to know everything,” Peter said, his voice heavy. “What happened when you were alone with him?”

You turned toward him, looking down at your hands for a moment, trying to piece together everything you could remember. “I don’t know how he does it. He’s so much like you, Peter. I never—”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“I mean that he looked like you. He sounded like you. He was you.”

Peter ran a hand through his hair, trying to fight the knot of frustration in his throat. “I mean the way he’s been acting, the way he’s been… pretending to be me. He can’t just… blend in like this without some kind of plan. He’s not just mimicking me—he’s changing things. He’s becoming me.”

You nodded slowly, your voice barely a whisper. “It’s like he knows everything. About us. About you. He knew the way you moved, the way you smiled at me—everything. And he used it. He used it all to get close to me. To trick me.”

Peter shook his head. “We’re not going to let him get away with it. We need to figure out where he came from, how he’s been doing this, and stop him before anyone else gets hurt.”

You looked at him, fear still lingering in your chest. “But what if it’s too late? What if he’s already…”

“It’s not too late,” Peter cut in, his voice firm. “We can fix this. I’ll fix this. I’ll make sure nothing like this happens again. I swear it.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

And now—together—you would take the fight to him.

The night after the confrontation with the doppelgänger, Peter and you were still processing everything that had happened. The monster had vanished, but the reality of what was going on was far from over. The fear in your chest had not yet subsided, and the questions kept gnawing at you.

You had to make sure no one else was at risk, and you knew the only way to do that was to go to the Avengers.

But you weren’t ready for what was about to unfold at the Tower.

The fake Peter—the doppelgänger—had been to the Avengers’ Tower long before you and the real Peter even considered walking through those doors. His version of events was already set. He had arrived earlier, walking into the Tower with the calm, composed air of someone who believed they were in control.

“I’m telling you, something’s wrong,” the fake Peter explained, as he paced in front of the Avengers, his face an exaggerated mirror of the real Peter’s. “Y/N… she attacked me. I tried to explain things to her, but she doesn’t seem to care. She keeps saying I’m the ‘fake’ one, that something’s wrong with me. And now, she’s with… another Peter. This impostor…” His voice broke, the fake hurt on his face so convincing it almost felt real. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I need your help.”

The Avengers listened, some furrowing their brows, others eyeing each other, unsure what to believe.

Tony was watching the fake Peter with an intensity that the others weren’t. Tony Stark didn’t trust easy, and something about this whole situation just didn’t sit right.

“Okay,” Tony said, his tone skeptical. “Before we make any moves, we need both sides of the story. I don’t want to be the one jumping to conclusions. I’m bringing them in.”

The fake Peter, who was already so sure of himself, visibly relaxed when Tony called for the other side. He had already woven his tale, and all he had to do now was sit back and wait for the real Peter and you to walk into the lion’s den.

Meanwhile, you and Peter had spent the last few minutes trying to figure out what your next move was. Peter’s protective side was still in overdrive, but you could see the uncertainty in his eyes. Both of you knew the Tower was the safest place to figure this out, but there was no telling how the Avengers would react.

As you both reached the entrance, Peter pulled you aside, his hand gently gripping your arm. “Are you sure about this?”

You nodded, giving him a determined look. “We can’t keep hiding. If we want to stop this, we need to do it now. We need to tell them the truth.”

Peter hesitated, but he knew you were right. He took a deep breath and opened the door. The moment the two of you entered, the Avengers were already waiting for you.

“Well, well, look who’s here,” Tony remarked, raising an eyebrow. “Glad you could join us. We’ve been having a rather… enlightening conversation with your doppelgänger.”

Peter’s stomach sank. He could tell by the way Tony was looking at him, that there was already a mistrust in the air.

“Wait, you believe him?” Peter asked, his voice growing sharp. “I’m the real Peter! He’s the one who’s been pretending to be me, lying to all of you!”

The Avengers exchanged uncertain glances. Clint, Black Widow, and even Thor seemed confused, unsure of who was telling the truth.

“Hold up,” Tony said, raising a hand, cutting through the noise. “We don’t need anyone shouting. Let’s just… take a minute. I want to hear both sides.” He turned to the fake Peter. “You said she attacked you? Tell me more about that.”

The fake Peter nodded earnestly, as though Tony’s support had given him new confidence. “Yes, Tony. I don’t know what’s happening, but Y/N… she thought I wasn’t me. She accused me of being a fake. She said I was someone else, and when I tried to explain, she… she attacked me.”

His voice cracked just enough for the others to exchange sympathetic looks. It was a convincing act, but Tony’s eyes were narrowed. He wasn’t buying it.

“And what about you?” Tony asked, turning to Peter. “What’s your side of this?”

Peter, trying his best to remain calm, gestured to you. “She’s been manipulated. He’s been pretending to be me for weeks, using everything he knows about me to get close to her. I don’t know how he’s doing it, but he’s tricked everyone into thinking he’s the real Peter.”

The room fell silent, the Avengers looking back and forth between the two Peters, confusion clouding their faces.

Then, Tony did something no one expected. He gave a slight smirk, and in one swift motion, he pulled out a small device from his pocket—a small, handheld scanner that would detect genetic differences. It was a last-ditch effort to confirm who was who. Tony activated it and held it up to both Peters.

The results were immediate and undeniable.

The device buzzed, then flashed red when held up to the fake Peter.

“Whoops,” Tony muttered, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Guess that’s our cue.”

The Avengers blinked in disbelief, staring at the fake Peter, whose smile faltered as he realized what was happening.

“Wait, no!” The fake Peter hissed, his expression turning dark, his features twisting in fury. “This is a mistake! I am the real Peter! I am!”

Before anyone could react, the fake Peter’s body shifted. His skin started to ripple, changing rapidly, darkening in color, his eyes flashing a sickly yellow. The monstrous form emerged again, like a twisted version of the real Peter, his body disfigured and monstrous, a far cry from the boy you had fallen in love with.

The Avengers took a step back, immediately reaching for their weapons. But the real Peter moved faster. He shoved you behind him, positioning himself protectively.

“Stay behind me,” he ordered, his voice fierce.

The creature—the imposter—let out an inhuman screech, its claws elongating, and it charged at Peter, knocking him to the floor. The Avengers were quick to react, but the fight quickly descended into chaos.

Tony activated his suit’s repulsor beams, sending blasts toward the creature, while Thor summoned lightning, striking the doppelgänger with full force. Black Widow and Clint worked in tandem, trying to subdue the beast, but it was fast—faster than anyone had anticipated.

You stood back, your heart pounding in your chest, watching the battle unfold before your eyes. This wasn’t just a fight for survival—it was a fight for the truth. And in that moment, you realized just how much you still needed to protect Peter. The real Peter.

With a final, powerful blow, Tony’s suit blasted the creature back, sending it flying across the room. It hissed in anger, but the damage had been done.

The creature was weak, cornered.

Peter, breathing heavily, stood up and webbed the creature to the wall. “This ends now,” he said, his voice steady despite the chaos around him.

The fake Peter looked at you, his distorted face contorted with rage. “You can’t just lock me up, Parker. You don’t know what I am.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “I know exactly what you are. And I won’t let you hurt anyone else.”

The fake Peter’s skin began to darken again, but this time, it didn’t heal. Tony, with his suit fully powered up, fired another blast, sending the creature unconscious, his body slumping to the ground.

The Avengers stood still, taking in the chaos of the last few minutes. The truth had come out. The real Peter Parker had just saved everyone. But the damage was done.

“Good work, everyone,” Tony said, his voice softer than usual, almost a whisper. “But there’s still a lot to clean up.”

Peter stepped forward, his face serious. “This isn’t over. We need to figure out where it came from… and how many more there are.”

And with that, the battle was won—but the war against the doppelgängers had only just begun.

The battle was over, and the fake Peter was contained. The Avengers had quickly organized a secure location to keep the doppelgänger locked away, far from anyone else. But while the physical fight had ended, Peter could feel the weight of the emotional turmoil pressing down on him.

You had been through so much in such a short amount of time, and he wasn’t about to let you suffer the consequences without taking every precaution.

“Hey,” Peter said, his voice low and gentle as he turned to you, still standing at the edge of the room, visibly shaken but trying to hold it together. His hand was on your arm, but it wasn’t a simple gesture of reassurance—it was the protective grip of someone who would do anything to keep you safe. “You need to get checked out. We have no idea what kind of exposure you had to him. Who knows what that thing did to you?”

You froze at his words, the weight of what he was suggesting suddenly hitting you. A part of you wanted to argue that you were fine, that it was over now, but the other part—the part that knew Peter was right—made you nod in agreement.

“I’m fine, Peter, really,” you started, but you could see the worry on his face, his brows furrowed with concern. His eyes were dark with guilt, and you could tell that no matter what you said, he wouldn’t back down until you agreed.

“No, you’re not fine,” Peter insisted, his voice tight. “He touched you. He was in your bed. We don’t know what… how he was messing with your biology, your—”

“I get it,” you interrupted gently, your hand coming to rest on his arm, hoping to soothe him. “I’ll go to the med bay. But only because I know you’re going to bug me about it until I do.”

A small, almost relieved smile tugged at his lips, and you felt a strange sense of comfort in the way he looked at you. It was the same look he always gave you—gentle and full of trust, but now with a deeper sense of urgency. He was genuinely worried about you.

“I’ll go with you,” he added quickly. “I’m not letting you out of my sight, not after… all of this.”

The Avengers had already organized a trip to their medical bay, and within moments, you found yourself walking down the sterile, white halls of the Tower. You could hear the soft hum of machines and the clicking of footsteps echoing in the corridor.

Tony had insisted on keeping you away from the doppelgänger’s containment, as much for your safety as for his own team’s peace of mind. You couldn’t help but feel grateful for his support, though part of you felt like you had just been through a dream—a strange, nightmarish situation that you couldn’t fully wrap your mind around.

Peter kept close by your side as you entered the medical bay. He was quiet, the edges of his usual wit and sarcasm gone. It was as though this had shaken him in ways that words couldn’t express.

Dr. Banner was already there, waiting for you with a clipboard and a soft smile, though you could tell he, too, had been affected by the events of the night.

“Alright, Y/N,” he began, motioning for you to sit on the examination table. “We just need to run a few tests. Given the circumstances… it’s better to be safe than sorry.” His voice was calm, reassuring, though you could sense his own concern for what you’d been through.

Peter stood by the door, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes never left you, watching your every move as though he couldn’t bear to look away for even a second.

“It won’t take long,” Dr. Banner continued. “We’re just going to run a few scans, make sure everything checks out. No need to worry.”

You gave a small nod, trying to calm your nerves. As Dr. Banner began the scans, Peter moved closer, still watching, though his usual playful demeanor was absent. His voice was low as he finally spoke, his words barely a whisper.

“You’re okay, right?”

You smiled faintly, glancing up at him. “I’m fine, Peter. Really. This… this doesn’t feel real, but I’m fine. I’m with you, and I’m going to be okay.”

He didn’t respond right away, but the relief in his eyes was palpable. He wanted to believe it. He needed to.

After a few minutes, Dr. Banner finished the scans and reviewed the results with a careful eye. He looked at you with a warm smile. “Everything looks normal. No signs of anything… strange.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, your shoulders loosening from the tension you hadn’t realized you were holding. “So, I’m not infected by any weird alien parasites or anything?”

Dr. Banner chuckled softly, though his expression remained professional. “No parasites. No weird side effects. Just a little shaken up, I’m guessing?”

You nodded, feeling lighter. “Yeah, something like that.”

Peter finally exhaled, the tension visibly leaving his body. He smiled, but it was a quiet one—relieved, but still concerned. “I told you,” he said gently, walking over to you and taking your hand in his. “I just… I had to be sure. I couldn’t lose you, Y/N.”

You squeezed his hand, smiling up at him. “I’m right here,” you said softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

As you left the med bay, Peter walked alongside you, his hand still holding yours tightly. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you now—what had happened, the danger you’d both been in, and the strength you’d drawn from each other.

“You know,” Peter began, breaking the silence with a quiet, almost teasing tone. “I may have saved the day, but I think you’ve got a lot more strength than I give you credit for.”

You chuckled softly, leaning your shoulder against his as you walked. “You’re not getting away with that one, Parker. I’m the one who helped knock out the fake you, remember?”

Peter grinned at that, the spark of his usual charm returning in full force. “Yeah, I guess you did. But I still think I deserve a little credit.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’ll give you credit… but only because you’re cute when you’re protective.”

Peter beamed, his hand squeezing yours. “Well, I’d be more than happy to keep being protective if it means getting a compliment from you.”

As the two of you headed back to the common area, it was clear that while the fight against the doppelgänger was far from over, you had both come out stronger. The fear and uncertainty remained, but so did the bond between you and Peter.

And maybe, just maybe, things could start to feel a little more normal again—starting with the small moments that you both cherished.

Even with the dark days ahead.

[pissybird]

Of course, this does bring to light Trey’s feelings on being the “responsible one.” Again, a deep dive on that is really a different post altogether, but Trey is kind of…making an active choice to be responsible for Riddle??? Kind of???

I think it’s more…Trey wants to show up for Riddle in a certain way, even though it’s not the way that Riddle needs. And Trey’s dream is a reality where he’s able to help his friend in a way that actually works and speaks to Trey’s skill set which is baking, not emotional support. (He’s okay at it, see Vil’s lab vignette, but I wouldn’t call it a hallmark of his character.)

(I kind of want to go back through and review Trey’s words in his Labwear)

So here’s Trey with one (1) way he knows how to comfort others being shoved into a role rife with responsibility that he didn’t ask for, supporting a guy who Trey knows is hurting (and maybe Trey feels responsible for that, as well) and he’s trying trying trying and…it’s not good enough. He can’t fix Riddle’s hurt (that he may or may not feel like he caused) with tarts and cakes. So he starts giving Cater and everyone else the shaft in favor of rushing to Riddle’s aid. He’s doing everything he can, and won’t even complain about it too much (Vil’s labwear vignette). He walks around the dorm making sure no one is breaking rules (Treys loungewear) even though he doesn’t really care all that much. He lets (not to blame Trey completely for everything, Riddles actions are his own) Riddle get out of hand (pre OB) and is really bad at keeping Riddle from blowing up (post OB) (he’s successful most of the time, but he’s kind of an ass about it. (Riddle’s dorm vignette, Phantom Bride, etc.) there’s a lot of condescending that happens, and speaking to Riddle as if he were a child.)

Trey’s dream has shed a little bit more light on his relationship with Riddle, I think. this is unedited and unfiltered. I may take it down later and replace it with a thought out, formatted, and structured analysis. This is just off the cuff stuff for now.

TLDR: The Riddle in Trey’s head is probably still 8 years old and Trey might have trouble seeing Riddle as a 17-year-old. Riddle, on the other hand, might be a bit more objective about their friendship, but that really remains to be seen.

Riddle, who deals with his mother every day , has lots of trauma to think about and deal with. That’s not to say the tart thing wasn’t significant to Riddle (we know it definitely was), or to say that Riddle forgot about Trey and Chen’ya (3,000 crossword puzzles!), but I think Trey…fixated on it more??? Or fixated on it in a different way at the very least.

So Riddle has all these traumas from his mom, the tart thing being a drop in the bucket (albeit a very significant one!). Meanwhile, Trey has no other (plot relevant) traumas. So Trey has been kind of ruminating on this moment, remembering Riddle as he was, building him up in his head, a la the Great Gatsby, and doesn’t really know how to handle it when Riddle turns out to be different than he remembers. Meanwhile Riddle, having more or less turned his feelings “off,” approached reuniting with Trey again in a more objective way. He knew this guy for like two months, six years ago. And Dr. Rosehearts has been piling more shit on top of Riddle since then as well (so that Riddle not only has Rules Trauma, but also food trauma, appearance trauma, etc.).

Trey, having not had the same shit piled on him, has only this one moment that affected him so profoundly to ruminate on. Whether consciously or not, it seems like all Trey can think about when he thinks of Riddle is the tart thing. It’s like Trey’s brain took a picture of little Riddle in that moment, and won’t let go of it. He’s unable to see Riddle in any light that gives Riddle some agency to maybe be a bit different then Trey remembers, even besides the militance. It kind of puts his behavior pre OB into perspective.

A little bit of an aside here, but Trey’s attitude toward Riddle really frustrated me at that point in the story, and I was relating pretty hard to Ace! it irritated me, because I saw it as Trey babying Riddle (which it kind of was) and having had a similar childhood to Riddle in a lot of ways, it annoyed me. I felt like Riddle was being condescended to a little bit. But now, knowing that Trey had hyped Riddle up to hell and back, it makes more sense.

Trey, whether he was to admit it or not, is a pretty nurturing guy (whether that comes naturally to him or not is a whole other post). So he sees Riddle as a very mature, albeit somewhat happy-go-lucky 8-year-old who gets mistreated by his mom. Trey is so stuck in this moment he is incapable of seeing Riddle as the near-grown man that he is. Dr. Rosehearts is Trey’s hero (in a twisted way) just as much as she is Riddle’s villain. The tart thing existing in Trey’s dream speaks to this! Riddle, through Trey’s trauma, serves as a kind of outlet for Trey’s fussing and mothering. Dr. Rosehearts has given Trey a child to spoil. (This, of course, is not the end all be all of Trey’s treatment of Riddle (please read on) but it’s worth noting.) Trey wants to nourish and comfort his friend, who wouldn’t need nourishing and comfort if something hadn’t happened to him (Trey subconsciously emotionally seeing the tart incident as a singular event, because it’s really all he bore witness too).

Trey’s dream wasn’t “Riddle and all of Heartslabyul happy and carefree,” it was ���spoiling everyone, especially Riddle, and maybe making up for past mistakes.” In Trey’s dream, Riddle eats without restraint. Riddle is tall. The only thing Riddle doesn’t get is the title of Housewarden, because that makes it much more difficult for Trey to accommodate Riddle and everyone else. The dream knows that Trey wants to dote on everyone, especially Riddle, but it also knows that Trey is tired. He can’t sustain both being Riddle’s vice housewarden (a position foisted upon him by his dorm mates, interestingly enough!) and being as indulgent toward others as he would like (or feels he must be).

It wouldn’t surprise me if Riddle’s dream had very little to do with Trey. Even if it’s “Riddle got to have a good childhood,” Trey may just serve as a face, but could really be anyone. He may have a shit ton of friends, which we know he wants, and Trey may be treated as equal among them as opposed to a bestie.

I’m not saying Riddle doesn’t care about Trey, or that they’re not close. But I think Trey really has an idea of Riddle that just…doesn’t exist anymore. Riddle is changing and growing, but he’s not 8. He’s growing into an adult, and gaining agency and forming a personality that extends beyond his mother. There may be a day when Riddle has a healthy relationship with rules, food, his mom, etc. But the Riddle that Trey remembers isn’t there anymore. He’ll always be a little bit different. And this kind of makes the “little brother” thing make sense, I think, even when we know that Riddle acted like he didn’t know Trey (which he didn’t, of course, It’d been 6 years.). Even now, Riddle and Trey have only known each other…what…2 years total?

Of course, their dynamic when it involves Cater is interesting as well, but that’s a different post I think.

[tartppola]

biased but my favorite bits from the official twst artbook 🥰🫶

[lotus-pear]

free will is drawing ur two favorite characters together and making them gay

[liketolaugh-writes]

Thinking about a full ghost Danny AU where he just straight-up dies in the portal. I think there should be more of those. <3

Character death, obviously.

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

The drive back to Fentonworks was a blur in Maddie's memory, keeping Tucker on the line while he sobbed and stammered, trying and failing to keep himself together and explain what happened.

"-doesn't h-have a heartbeat and he's f-freaking out-"

"It just turned on, we don't know w-what happened, he, he said it didn't work-"

"-trying to keep Danny c-calm-"

"Please come home."

Jack's driving was even worse than usual, veering through the streets in an undisguised panic. Maddie hadn't been able to discern much from Tucker's ramble; the portal had finally turned on, but the kids had been messing around with it and Danny had gotten hurt. How hurt? Tucker didn't seem to be sure, but all three of them were in a state.

Jack pulled into their driveway and flung himself out, half the GAV still sprawled across the sidewalk. Maddie was right behind him, hanging up on Tucker with a quick assurance that they'd be right there.

"DANNY!" Jack yelled.

"In here!" Sam called back, from the open lab door. Of course.

Maddie slipped past Jack and got there first, almost falling down the stairs in her haste. What she saw there made her heart stop.

Danny wasn't there. There were three teens crumpled on the ground in front of the activated portal (a part of her sang, it worked, it worked) but Danny wasn't one of them. There was Tucker, staring blankly at the floor, and Sam, with her arm around a strange, glowing white-haired boy that was in tears - a ghost. A ghost? A ghost!

"GHOST!" Jack yelled in delight. The teen sobbed harder.

"Where's Danny?" Maddie demanded. Sam looked up sharply, her eyes wide like Maddie had never seen, her face dead pale under her makeup.

"I'm sorry!" Sam blurted out, looking nearly in tears herself. "I just, I, I thought it would be cool, it was just a picture, I, I didn't think-"

Maddie's heart skipped a beat. "Sam. Where is Danny?"

Sam looked at the crying boy next to her, huddled under her arm as if for comfort. The boy looked up, radioactive eyes swimming with tears and the water on his skin sparkling prismatically, and met Maddie's eyes.

"Mom," he croaked, his voice tripled and echoing with itself like a movie memory. "What happened to me?"

Maddie's knees gave out, and she crumpled to the floor, unable to take her eyes from the ghost in front of her. In a moment, she understood.

That was Danny. His colors had partially inverted, his hair turning white, the colors of his haz-mat suit - God, that was his haz-mat suit, the one they'd made for him and that he never used - reversing to white-on-black. He'd huddled into Sam, shaking and gasping, but now was pulling away, looking at Maddie like- like he thought she could fix this.

"I think something's wrong," Danny said, his voice trembling somewhere underneath all the alien reverberation. "Should we go to the hospital or, or something?"

"I don't think the hospital can fix this, man," Tucker said weakly, lifting his head just to stare at Danny.

The portal powered down with a whine. Maddie jerked her head up with a gasp, and found Jack at the control box, backing up silently. Jack stared into the portal. Maddie followed his gaze.

She couldn't stop the scream that tore itself from her throat. Jack yelled too, running inside, tripping over the bundled cables, and collapsing unceremoniously short of the body inside. Careless of that, Jack crawled forward the last few feet, scooped up the body, and then started to sob, cradling Danny's burnt and blistered corpse against him.

"...Do we call 911?" Danny asked, voice cracking. Maddie's head snapped back to him from the corpse, watching him stare in bleak, lost confusion at his father and the body he was hugging.

Danny didn't even believe in ghosts. Neither of their kids hid it, treating their profession with a lighthearted exasperation at home and plain embarrassment outside. Somehow, the fact made all of this worse.

"What's happening?" Danny asked helplessly. Shock, the stable part of Maddie's brain told her. He sees what's going on but his mind won't comprehend it. (He wasn't expecting to die today.)

"Y-yes," Maddie said at last, and then forced her voice to stabilize. "I'll... I'll call 911."

But first, she held out her arms, and Danny all but scrambled across the room to throw himself into her arms, still shaking. He was cold as ice, freezing through her haz-mat suit, and that was before he slipped forward with a yelp and tumbled through her. He scrambled back with a cry and tried again, and this time fell solidly against her, hiccupping. She wrapped an arm around him, shushing him softly, and groped for her phone with the other hand. She couldn't take her eyes off Jack, now carrying Danny out of the portal and staring from his corpse to his ghost, looking shattered.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"My son is dead," Maddie heard herself say. Danny hiccupped and clutched at her tighter. There was a brief pause.

"I'm very sorry, ma'am. Where are you? Have you checked his pulse?"

"We're at the Fentonworks building, 18701 northwest..." She rattled off the address mindlessly, and reached down to fumble for Danny's wrist. He let her have it without complaint, too terrified to put up any resistance. She shuddered as she felt nothing, not even the tendons or bone that should be there. Then she looked up at the corpse in Jack's arms and swallowed. "Jack, h-his... his pulse."

Jack nodded mutely and fumbled for Danny's wrist, gingerly running his fingers down the burnt skin until he found the right spot.

"What do you mean, his pulse, his ghost is literally in your lap!" Sam half-shrieked, her mascara running and her fists clenched against her cheeks, her breath coming in short gasps.

"No pulse," Jack croaked hollowly, staring at Danny's ghost.

"Maybe they could..." No, it was a foolish thought, and she wouldn't put false hopes into Danny's head just to put off her own grief. She cradled him closer again, feeling him shudder. She spoke to the operator. "N-no pulse, ma'am."

"Ambulance and police are on their way," the operator said, calm and reassuring. "Can you stay on the line with me?"

"Yes." Maddie felt numb, her own hands trembling as she held Danny close.

"Thank you. Can you tell me your name? Is there anyone else with you?"

"Maddie Fenton," she said. "My husband is with me, and my son's two friends, and... and my son's ghost."

There was another brief pause.

"Alright, Maddie." Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought the operator sounded gentler there. They thought she was crazy, of course. Maddie shut her eyes. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I, I don't know. My son Danny was home with his friends, and they called and..." Deep breath. She started over. "There was an accident in our lab. Danny was electrocuted by one of our in-progress projects."

"Is the device still on?"

"No, ma'am. We had to turn it off to remove the, the body."

Maddie continued answering questions on autopilot, most of her attention on her son, her husband, and the body. Danny had stopped crying, but remained glued to her side, shivering and sniffling. Jack continued to cradle Danny's body, but his eyes were now fixed on Danny, grief spread across his face. Sam and Tucker had both quieted, watching them with fearful, guilt-stricken looks.

It seemed to take forever for the police and ambulance to arrive. Sam got up to show them inside without being asked, staggering up to steps on obviously shaky legs. Maddie was too grateful to insist on her or Jack doing it; with Danny's ghost cradled against her and his corpse in Jack's arms, well...

The paramedics arrived first, sharp-eyed and professional, but the first almost immediately faltered as he laid eyes on the scene. But Jack held up Danny's body beseechingly, his eyes wet and miserable, and they jolted into action.

"Thank you, ma'am," Maddie said to the woman on the line. "They're here now. May I hang up?"

"Yes. The paramedics will take it from here. Take care, Maddie."

Maddie hung up, and looked at the two paramedics as they filed down. They looked at each other, one inclined his head toward Danny, and they split up, one heading for Jack and the body, the other toward Maddie and the ghost. Both of them knelt beside their chosen patient, and Maddie fixed her attention on the one with her.

"Are you Danny?" the paramedic asked, unexpectedly gentle. Danny peeked up and nodded uncertainly, and the paramedic glanced at the body before seeming to make a decision. "Okay, Danny. My coworker June is going to check your body for signs of life to see if you can still be revived. Are you okay with that?" Danny hiccupped and nodded, though a new wave of tears welled up and trickled down his cheeks. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Danny hiccupped again, reaching up to wipe his eyes. "M-my friends wanted to see the p-portal," he managed, voice wavering. Maddie squeezed him, her own eyes welling up while the paramedic listened patiently. "A-and it didn't work so I t-thought it would be f-fine. I went inside a-and I d-didn't check if it was plugged in or anything, a-and then I tripped and fell and I think I hit a button and it turned on!" His voice rose until he was almost wailing. Maddie's throat tightened, and she hugged him closer. Her poor baby.

"You were electrocuted?" the paramedic checked softly.

"I guess," Danny sniffled. "I dunno. It just hurt. And then I felt really cold, and then I..." He looked down at himself and sniffled again, tears slipping nonstop down his cheeks. "Am I dead?"

The paramedic looked at his coworker, who met his eyes and shook her head. Maddie had to swallow a hiccup of her own, trying to be brave for her terrified son. The paramedic did a much better job at it, looking back at Danny and speaking gently.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "There's nothing we can do. June is going to call a coroner and explain the situation-" He caught the other paramedic's eye, and she gave him a nod. "-and we'll have your body taken somewhere it can be prepared for burial or cremation, whichever you prefer." Danny started crying again, and the paramedic exhaled and looked up to meet Maddie's eyes. "Obviously, there's no protocols for this situation. But, as his mother, I think it would still be appropriate for you to make a decision if he doesn't feel able to."