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theblueflower05 · 1 year

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Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

(Part Three of the First Love/Late Spring series)

A/N: This is a monster of a part. I thought about splitting it into two but it just wouldn’t make sense to the story! I hope you babies like it.

Word Count: 10+ (holy fuck)

Warnings: This story is smut filled. All future installments of this story will be explicit.

You are responsible for cultivating your own online experience, please do not interact if any of these tags are triggering to you. Minors DNI.

Oral(female & male receiving), fingerfucking. Penetrative sex. Breeding. Talks of anal. Spanking. Cum eating. Dirty talking. A bit of exhibitionism if ya squint. Pretty much all the sexy sexual things you can imagine.

Summary: You and Neteyam move into your new home and spend your first Fertility Season together. Neteyam x Metkayina Reader

Series Masterlist (all parts can be found here)

Previous:<Crawling Back to You

Next:> Part Four (currently unnamed)

Honey, I belong with you

And only you babe.

Only you my girl. Only you, babe.

Only you darling. Only you- Dark Red, Steve Lacy

You had never been good with change.

Your steadfast nature flourished in routine. You found happiness in the known. In your corner of the world, mixing tinctures and tending to your clan. You’d been well aware of your role from a young age, had thought you’d understood the great mother’s plan for your life-

And then the Sully’s had ridden in on the strong east wind.

There had been invisible strings at play.

Unbeknownst to you fate had threaded you to a future that you couldn't have foreseen even in your wildest dreams. Entangled your heartlines with the last person you ever would’ve expected-

You think about the fact as you stare out at the choppy sea. Your hands are busy collecting the last of your belongings, but your mind is far away. Distracted and restless as the storms that gather along the coastline. The sky is dark and rain already falls in a light misting.

Fertility Season is here, palpable as it rolls over the village of Awa’atlu.

You’ve never experienced it this way, always a spectator and never a participant. Normally at this time of year you’d be preparing to assist the other villagers through the week of haze induced mating. Being bogged down by wet weather and running from Mauri to Mauri had always been exhausting, but still. You knew how to do it, we’re accustomed to what was expected of you when a healer was needed.

What would be expected of you as a mate?

The thought excites you and terrifies you all the same.

You want to be with Neteyam. There is no question about the fact. You crave him in a way that you didn't know was possible. Carnal and inescapable. Being with him is as easy as breathing,

It’s everything else that’s harder.

You’re an adult now, have been for years, yet you still live in your family home. It’s not that you had been forced to stay. Ao’nung had taken his leave after his rite; his hut more of a bachelor pad than anything. He still came to his parents home daily to raid their food stores and have his mother touch up his braids- but still. He’d jumped fearlessly into independence and had been living on his own for over a year.

All you’d ever known lived inside these walls.

Your Uncle Tonowari and Aunt Ronal had taken you in at such a young age that you don’t really remember anything else. You’d slept in the same bed since you were a childling, in your secluded little corner. Decorated with all of your trinkets and shrouded in familiarity, you’d loved your space.

It was safety incarnate.

And you leaving was difficult, for everyone.

It would’ve happened one day, a necessary step towards adulthood that all had to take and yet as you took your turn you couldn't help but be a bit devastated. It felt like a shock to your system, gathering everything you’d accumulated and preparing to leave.

After Fertility Season, you wouldn't return. You’d never sleep under this roof again.

You and Neteyam would start to build your life together- and you’d do so in your own home.

It wasn't even as though you were going far, the vacated mauri that Tonowari had granted you permission to claim was mere meters away, still in the heart of the village. The move wasn't a major one, and would take no time at all. Nothing like the way the Sully’s had been forced to uproot and leave everything they’d ever known.

There was no reason for you to act like a baby about it. So don't allow yourself to.

Even with all of the swirling questions plaguing you, you put on a brave face. Kept it all smiles and reassuring nods. This was all going to be just fine.

Right?

Right.

It’s too busy a time of year for your Aunt and Uncle to be housebound. They tend to the people, attention occupied by assuring the good of the clan. Of course they had given you all of their love before leaving to fulfill their many duties as Olo’eyktan and Tsahik-

Ronal had been stony about your coming of age. Very helpful, sending you back and forth with arms full of supplies and many words of advice. Tonowari on the other hand had played at being unaffected- charitable as ever. Smiling the whole way, reminding you of how proud of you he is at every turn. You pretended not to see the mist in his eyes that he furiously wiped away when he thought you weren't looking.

Tsireya has tears, silent but steady, rolling down her face the entire time you prepare to leave.

She helps you pack and reassures you that she’s fine. She’s so happy for you, yet still. She sniffles paws at her nose every few moments, no matter how many reassuring words you give her.

“You’ll be fine” you hum, gathering the last of your herbs, the tiny vials clinking together as you toss them in with the rest of your things . “Aren't you excited that you get the bigger bed space now?”

She just shoots you a wet smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

Your baby.

Your sweetest girl.

It wouldn't be long before she was leaving the nest herself, but you don't remind her of that fact, you just embrace her tight instead.

Finally, with the large woven basket in your arms, full to the brim, you step out into the rain.

It's chillier then it usually gets on the island. The humidity and wind creating a cold that clings to your bones. You bound quickly down the buoyant netting. Everyone seems to be out, even with the weather- getting their affairs in order. It was going to be a long week- and the village was a buzz. Everyone flitting around, focused in on making sure their loved ones would be well taken care of.

It’s a bit embarrassing, the attention that you receive.

Well meaning clans members give you their blessings in spades. Tight hugs and words of well wishes. Whispered advice and wrapped parcels of food.

A group of Elders who you have known since birth stop you in your tracks. Their hands on your back, your chest, your arms, as they chant over you.

They ask the Great Mother to look over you during this season, to bless you with strong babies and healthy pregnancies. Their knowing smiles are both encouraging and mortifying.

“Your man sure is handsome” Ch’kal, a wrinkled woman with striking silver streaked into her long dark hair, starts “But do they not feed them in the forest? He’s so skinny, isn't he? I’ll give you our families recipe for Lomia-lok(cabbage like rice roll) Put some meat on his bones”

You want to argue that Neteyam’s not skinny, he’s lean. All muscle and sinew, he was stronger than he looked.

Instead you respond cordially “I will gladly take it, thank you for the offering”

“No worry, the skinny ones always have the biggest surprises under their twengs. My muntxa was a scrawny thing and look at how many little ones he gave me” She continues, a mischievous spark twinkling in her eye. Known for her unbridled, silver tongue. “You know what they say, you can’t judge the fruit by the tree”

You can feel the blush rise on your cheeks as images from the beach flash before your eyes.

She had no idea just how…well endowed your future mate truly is. His cock had felt so good in your hand, better than anything you had ever encountered. Huge and hard and all yours.

You keep that fact a secret, hold it tight to your chest as you break away from the crowds.

Lots of the homes of young couples have already been barred off. Their drapes pulled shut and wicker entry blinds secured tightly closed. A thin attempt of privacy. It does little to shelter the sounds of coupling coming from inside. Breathy moans and grunts could be heard, nearly drowned out by the whipping wind.

It was just the beginning. Fertility Season was known to be loud, your people not shy at all when it came to pleasure.

Eager to get out of the rain that only seems to get heavier as the hours pass, you duck down the netted pathway.

Your clan is lucky for the reefs, their protective cushion keeps the village from ever feeling the full fury of the storms.

Even still, by the time you’re at the mouth of your new home, you’re drenched. Your hair clinging to your back uncomfortably as you get to quick work.

The graciously given pod is something of a fixer upper.

Had been used for storage but cleared promptly when you and Neteyam formally announced your courtship. He wouldn't have to build a Mauri from nothing, but even then. It would be a while before the space felt your own. The bare walls unnerve you a bit.

A sturdy roof is all that's truly needed and it had been patched up just fine. The fire that Neteyam had started earlier crackles warmly, a pleasant welcoming as you dry yourself off.

The firepit in the center has been cleared of soot and debris and topped by sturdy rods that hold a ready to use skillet and hand-me-down stew pots. There’s baskets of fresh fruit and dried meat placed in rows near the jugs of fresh water, you suspect that neat work had been Neteyam’s mothers doing. Neytiri had been a great help in the relocation process. You still felt a bit awkward in her strong, silent presence but we’re no less grateful for the offered assistance.

A bed mat, thick and large enough for two sits in the back corner. Already piled with an accumulation of Metkayinan and Omaticayan woven bedding. You admire the foreign patterns that make up Neteyams quilts. They look cozy, so much thicker than your own thinner blankets.

You sink down, resting on your shins as you begin to arrange them. The need to nest is instinctual, deep rooted and you move on auto pilot as you straighten out the bedding. It had to be perfect, the home. Your bed. And it would be, had the potential to be.

Yes, it’s a little bit of a mess.

The collection of you and Neteyam’s things strewn out across most of the visible floorspace, not yet put carefully away and sorted. It’s also far smaller than what you’d grown up in. Kind of rickety and worn down-

But it’s yours. You would live an entire life here. You get lost in imagining it; raising children, growing old. Spending years cultivating endless memories- maybe you’d build onto the structure? Expand the pod, depending on how many children you have-

“Fucking hell” Neteyam curses in his fathers foreign tongue as he rushes through the entrance, quickly latching the canvas and wicker flap across the doorframe behind him. Securing your home against the stirring elements.

His arms are full and he’s soaked from the storm. Rivulets of rain water race down his sculpted body and you try not to be too obvious as you gawk at him.

He’s just so good looking, it really is unfair.

“It’s really starting to pour out there”

“Yes, I was worried you might of drowned” You grin back at him, loving the

“Ha, ha” Neteyam teases as he goes to drop the baskets full of food down by all of the others “It’s my mom. She wont stop. I keep trying to tell her that we will be fed for weeks but she just won't hear it. ”

“I think it's sweet” you hum as you watch the planes of his back, the muscles bunching as he bends down to arrange the fruit.

He’s so strong, holds it in his back and broad shoulders. You ache to run your fingers along his long spine.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip hard as you continue working at the bedding. Trying to get the blankets to lay just right. You don’t think it will truly be done until you and Neteyam’s scents are saturating every inch of fabric, but still. It’s good right?

All you want to do is drag him down, make him roll around in the bed mat. It’s too firm, not broken in yet. You need him to plow you into it, if only to soften it up a little.

Your thoughts had been horribly vulgar since that night at the beach. Vivid in a way that had you losing yourself to them often.

It had only been two eclipse’s since, but the days had been long and filled with rushed preparations. Neteyam had been preoccupied with making sure the Mauri was livable, that it was comfortable enough to house you, comfortably, for the duration of the coming week. Both of you would be lost to your hormones soon, it was best to get it all done while he still had his wits about him.

The spaces between intimacy make you anxious and antsy. You question yourself, every touch and word. He’d made it more than clear that he wanted to be with you but what exactly did that mean? Could you just touch him, however you wanted, whenever you wanted? You’d never shared that with a man and knew you had a while to go before the awkwardness of it all faded.

Neteyam’s presence breaks you out of your thoughts, a big hand coming to rest on your shoulder. Palm warm as he looms behind you “It looks good, yawne.”

A surge of pride runs through you, makes your fingertips tingle and tail swish slowly “Really? You don’t think it needs more blankets? I could hunt some down-”

His chuckle is low, deep. So gentle as he croutches down until he’s nuzzling your hair, speaking his next words so close to your ear that it flicks with the whisper of contact.

“There’s no need for that, it’s perfect. Such nice little nest for us to spend the season in”

How does he always know just what to say?

You lean into him heavily, your back meeting his chest. Stomach fluttering with excitement at the contact. You’ve wanted to be in his arms since leaving them and are pretty sure that this could become an addiction. Being so close to him was heady, you’re not sure if it’s the electric energy in the air- or if its just HIM.

His hands slide from your shoulder, skimming across your chest. Massaging your flesh with the pads of his fingers. Your heart flutters hummingbird fast as he thumbs at your collarbone and a small gasp leaves you as his fingers start to slip down into your skimpy top.

It’s been so hard, keeping your mind from sinking under the haze of Fertility Season. So many of your peers are gone to it. Completely to their hormones, tucked away together as the storms batter the shore.

His touches leave fire in their wake, warm you up from the inside out and melt what little control you have left. You’d been good, hadn’t you? Gotten everything in order, all of your responsibilities were squared away. You could just…have this. Have him, and your small home and the rising heat between you.

“Need you” you whisper as he begins to palm at your breast, rubbing a callused palm over the hardening bud of your nipple over and over again.

“Need me how?” Neteyam presses, not stoping his insistent groping “‘What do you need, yawntutsyip(darling)? My mouth, my hands? My cock?”

You choke on your own tongue, startled by both Neteyam’s raunchy words and the fact that he pinches your sensitive nipple hard as he speaks them.

In all reality, you want it all. Want to ride his fingers again, and feel his mouth all over you. You’d dreamt, so vividly, about his head between your thighs-

All of those pale in comparison to what you truly crave.

‘It’s the skinny ones that always have the biggest secrets under their twengs’

You maneuver in his hold, twisting until you come face to face with exactly what you desire.

With him standing, straightening out to his full height, and you still resting on your knees, your eye level with the prize. Saliva pools in your mouth as you lean in, sucking in deep lungfuls of his scent. Its so strong at his groin that even concealed by his tweng, it still fills your nostrils in fragrant plumes.

So virile and potent that your womb throbs sparply, empty and wanting.

You nuzzle between his legs, nosing eagerly at his covered bulge. When you begin wetting the cloth of with your open mouth kisses and wandering tongue, Neteyam winds his hands in your hair and tugs your gaze up to his-

He’s more than happy to let you explore and get your fill but the lack of skin to skin contact is driving him crazy. His amber eyes are low, his belly concaving with his quickening breath.

“Baby, you’re killing me” he whispers whinely and a feline like grin stretches across your face.

“We can't have my mighty warrior dying on me, now” you croon at him, your small hands running up his strong legs. His muscles bunch under your touch, his thighs firm up, tightening in anticipation “I just wanna...Can’t I have a little taste?”

When you cup where he’s chubbing up, he hisses warningly between his clenched teeth, his fingers tightening in your hair-a thinly veiled warning. You just continue to give him that innocent little look.

Neteyam reaches for the leather bound knots of his covering, tugging on them harshly to free himself from the increasingly tight constraints, its hard to wiggle out of it. Especially when you keep reaching for his swelling balls with deft fingers, your hand tucked in between his thighs-

“Y/N!”

You giggle at his tone, at the shrill warning as the tips of your nails scritch his delicate taint.

Neteyam is huge. His cock is as dark as the rest of his svelte body, but blooms rosy purple at the crown of his swollen head. Longer than it is thick, a bead of thin opaline precum oozes from his slit.

You hum in the back of your throat, swallowing thickly around the saliva that pools your mouth. You can smell his sex, smell his essence rolling off of him and it’s dizzying.

You’re absolutely overwhelmed by it. It triggers something deep and primal. You want to roll around in this smell, want him to cover your body in it.

“You smell really good” you whimper, face coming to rest in the crease of his groin “Eywa, Neteyam- I-I want-fuck“

He hums, the hand still in your hair turns comforting. Pats at your head like your a child. “You wanted to taste, didn’t you?”

“Mmhm” you squeak, inhaling deep lungful's of his rich aroma.

“Then taste, sevin(pretty girl). Here” he pulls you from his center, hold your head, guiding it until your lips hover his top “stick your tongue out-“

The grunt that leaves him sounds like it was punched right from his stomach.

You don’t stick your tongue out-it’s more you take as much of him as you can into your eager mouth. You want his taste down your throat, want to guzzle it straight from the source.

The sensations are exciting and new. Having something so big in your mouth is admittedly a bit awkward, but the flavor that your rewarded with more than up for it. His skin is musky and warm-cut only by the sharp tang of the precum pouring out of him.

“Slow down, damn it- don’t-” Neteyam calves burn, struggling to stay upright as you attack him. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

You’re so hungry for it, gagging yourself harshly on his member. The sounds that erupt from your chest are animalistic, needy and a bit pathetic. You whine for him, knowing somewhere deep that you need his come inside of you.

He’s trying to keep his wits about him, really he is. Trying to guide you through it

“Breathe through your nose, aht. Just like that”

“Not so much teeth, a little gentlier”

“Deep-too deep! Not so deep!”

Between the sounds of your gagging and the little bobs of your head, Neteyam’s losing it. His hips chasing the sweet suction of your hollowed lips, his tip hitting the back of your throat. The rhythm is sloppy and it only takes one odd, pointed thrust to make you choke raggedly..

You cough, pulling off him.

Your sucking had been messy and clumsy, you smear spit all over his groin. Your chin shiny slick when you pull away for a much needed breath.

Neteyam is panting harsley, his face screwed tight in concentration.

“Am I doing okay?”

You’ve never done this part, and that idea that you might be doing it wrong gnaws at you. It’s a familiar uncertainty, one that you’d been warring with since you’d met the darker Na’vi. Neteyam was so sure- so good at all things, and while his competency was part of his appeal, it made you worried that he might realize just how fucking unexperienced you are.

His eyes open, fingers unclenching from the fist in your hair and coming to cup your jaw. You kiss his thumb when it runs across your lips, chase it with the tip of your tongue.

“You’re being such a good girl for me, Y/N. You almost made me come, I was barely able to catch myself”

The sensations stirring in your belly makes you groan, hug his legs tighter, your head pressed against his lower belly. The praise makes you feel lightheaded. Very much like you aren't really in this moment-

He clocks the slight change, on the way you’re clinging to him. He suddenly doesn't want the power dynamic, he doesn't want to leer over you any longer. Not with the sweet little nest you’d made right there just waiting to be used

“Is that what you wanted?” Neteyam wonders as he herds you, gentle but sure, back into the tangle of blankets. You go willingly, back resting against the padding, “To make me come?”

He likes this so much better. You all burrowed into the covers. He wants to pur at the sight of you, wants to dig you deeper into the nest. Cover your body with his own and never let you out.

“Mhmm” you stare up at him with big eyes. “O-of course I did. I want to know that I can bring you pleasure”

At his strong body as he crouches, shuffling forward on his knees. He’s as naked as the day Eywa brought him into this world. He’s something out of an ancient song, so bewitchingly beautiful. All of those sharp, jagged angles-

And yet he smiles at you so tenderly.

“You’re so sweet” Neteyam’s voice is a honeyed croon “Always trying to make me feel good. But I need you to feel good too- I need you to be comfortable with me”

“I am comfortable with you-”

“Are you?” Neteyam inquires, his hands skimming up your legs that are spread round his waist. Starting near your ankles, his palms skim up the firm lines of your calves, trace your knees. So patient in his exploration of your turquoise skin.

You’re panting shallowly at his touch on your thighs.

His bony fingers play with the plush flesh, digging into where your blubber meets hip. Squeezing at curiously. You feel exposed, giddy and scared at letting him touch you.

It’s not like that night at the beach. Not rushed in the shadows.

He takes his time, his golden iris’ searing in the fire light as he appraises you. You’ve never felt…so seen. You’d never had anyone take the time to look at you, like this. Boys in the clan had shot you greedy glances as you matured and came of age and as the niece of the reigning Olo’eyktan, you’d become accustomed to having eyes watching your movements, judging- positively or negatively you never really knew.

It makes you want to run, that look on his face. All intense, focused in only on you. It’s too much, you want to curl into a ball. Away from all of this attention. Want to read his mind- try to understand what he’s seeing. What he wants.

So you can give it to him.

His fingers reach for your embroidered tweng, nimbly working the knots.

“Nete?” you breathe, your voice shaky with nerves.

Still, you raise your hips. Helping him slip the fabric from your body.

The inside of your thighs shine in the flickering glow. The juncture of your body sticky and ready for him. His nostrils flare, his thin tail shoots straight in the air. Stock still.

He’s breathing hard, gulping in lungful's of the air that's swimming with the scent of your pheromones. The scent of your wet cunt.

Emboldened by the sight you spread your legs, knees falling open. Revealing where you're hot and pulsing. The baby blue lips of your pussy are puffy, unfurling into a pretty rosy color as you bare your insides to him. Your hole twitches, pulses with your racing heart rate.

His gaze on the most hidden part of yourself makes you hot. It's secret, just for him. Just for his big honeyed eyes.

You reach down, spreading yourself with your fingers- your hard clit poking out of its little hood in a way that has Neteyam groaning. His shoulders shaking as he turns his head- like he just can't bare the view. You fingering your own cunt, spreading it wide for him would be burned into his corneas for the rest of his days.

Your fingers are soaked, barley dipped into yourself yet covered in your own arousal. You bring them up to Neteyams quivering lips-

He gasps, gaze snapping back to yours as you wipe your shiny slick over his cupids bow.

“Fuuuuuck” he hisses, grabbing your thin wrist bruisingly hard. Holding your feminine hand to his face, helping you to rub your wetness along his mouth.

You’re in love with him.

You have been for months. Your heart had pined for this moment. To share this with him, to be able to scent him. To hold him. To mate him.

You don't have it in you to wait any longer.

“Please” you gasp as his hot tongue delves between your fingers, tracing your knuckles.

“Please what?” he mumbles, his mouth busy collecting any and all of your essence that he could reach.

You’re overwhelmed, shaking. You think you may start crying- your eyes sting harshly. As harsh as the sting of your empty womb. “I-I-I don't know. Please. Just please-”

A flash of lightning strikes across the sky outside, so bright that the pod lights up for a moment with its vicious neon purple glow.

The two of you look at each other in a light that's new, foreign. His long dark braids look something like a halo.

Neteyam can see the tears gathering in your eyes. The desperation in the green orbs.

“Y/N” He breathes, lowering his head to yours. His forehead resting against your own as he clutches your hand from his mouth to his chest so that you can feel the way that it's racing. “oel ngati kameie. I’ve only ever seen you-”

You gasp, lips searching for his.

He repeats it into the pecking kisses. He wants you to know, to understand that this was all he’d ever wanted.

A woman, warm and loving and all his, in his bed.

He’d laid bruised and bloody on the battlefield dreaming of this. Thinking that it was too far out of his reach, that he could never have it. Though the woman in his fantasies face had always been blurry- he knew it had always only been you. Eywa had plucked him from the forest, from everything he knew, and plopped him in the middle of the ocean.

To bring him to you

You reach for your kuru, the thick braid easy to find in your loose hair. You need this, before he slips into your body you need to be connected to his soul. You’re gagging for it, shaking as you offer him everything you have to give.

Neteyam brings his own kuru over his shoulder and your stomach flops dangerously.

There’s a moment of stillness.

The storm rages steadily outside, the platter of rain on the canvas roof consistent. The howling of the wind strong- and yet all you can hear is your own heartbeat. Neteyams breathing. There are no more words to be spoken. No, they’d only get in the way. What the two of you are doing is ancient, older than Pandora itself. Its the base for all life, for all connection.

The tendrils at the end of your kuru glow, a lilac haze as they reach desperately for Neteyams own. Straining, writhing in a way that you’d never experienced.

Only calming as they connect with what they truly want. They bind together seamlessly, and the bond is sealed.

Tsaheylu is made.

The air is forced from your lungs in a breathless whimper at the contact. You can hear Neteyams own sounds too. But no, that's not really it.

You’re not hearing him, you’re feeling him.

His soul, his essence is bright and dancing. He’s stronger then anything you’ve ever felt, instantly seeping bone deep. He feels like the forest at dawn, like the last moment before the evening eclipse over the ocean.

You’d heard stories of the first time mates make Tsaheylu. Of course you had. Some had been dirty and scandalous, leaving you blushing. But most had been whispers of reverence.

There was nothing like it. Being connected to another Na’vi body, mind and soul was an experience that no one could truly put into words.

You get it now.

It's all consuming. Overwhelming. Euphoric in a way that you didn't know could exist.

You and Neteyam blur. You’re not sure where he ends and you begin.

His forehead grits against yours as he pants, lost to the sensation of you. Of him. Of the bond.

His arms twine around your middle, hauling you as close as possible. He wants to crawl into your skin, wants to dig so deep into you that he will never return to the outside world. He’s only yours, from now until the day he returns to the All Mother.

“I’m yours” you reply through the haze. The words spill through the neurological connection. He doesn't need to speak them out loud.

And neither do you. You needn't tell him what you want. He can feel it, can feel the hot pulsing of your desperate cunt. He grabs ahold of his hard cock and leads it to where you need him. He doesn't even need to look, though a part of him wants to watch you take it.

You cry out as you’re breached for the first time. Your virgnally tight body clinging to every inch of him as he sinks slowly into you. The sensations new and dizzying. Everything is too much, and at the same time not enough. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck as you choke on the stretch of it all.

“You have to relax for me, shh, it's okay. Don't tense up or else it will hurt more” He soothes you, because he can feel it all. Tsaheylu a feedback loop. It hurts, there’s no way for him to have completely eliminated the pain. But he works you slowly through it. Let's you take all the time you need as he carves out his place within your body.

His sharp hip bones meet yours and you shudder.

“You okay?” he worries as you shift against the large intrusion. Your hips shifting, testing. You just shake your head and bury it in his neck. Eyes screwed tightly shut as you try to adjust to him.

It takes a long moment for the burn to fade from pain…to something else. Something itchy and nagging.

“Mmm” your hips move in slow, restless, circles. Electric shocks racing up your spine, flowing through your kuru as his heavy length rubs a spot within you that feels so good “Move, ugh, move”

“Slowly” Neteyam starts to adhere to your plea’s. Trying not to give into his need to snap into you.

“Cant-ah. Feels so weird” you grunt, trying to nail that place inside of you again. Your gummy walls pulse around him, your body begging him to help. To make you feel good. “Move, move. Please, I need you to move faster”

“So fucking tight” he gasps as he pulls out, only able to get about halfway free, before your strong hole is sucking him right back in. “Never felt anything so tight”

He feels your flare of jealousy, uncomfortably hot, through the bond.

“Never- you can't be with anyone else again” you warn him through shuttered breath. Your nails digging into the smooth skin on the back of his neck, under his braids.

“My love-” his amused chuckle tickles your ear.

“No. You can never even look at anyone else again. You’re only mine” you seethe, your hips grinding into his dangerously. Encouraging him to take you. To pound into you the way you needed him to. “I’ll kill them”

Neteyam's groan echoes around the space of your newly shared home.

His thrusts grow strong, careless. Pulling out and then sinking back into your squelching heat, all the way to the hilt. Your body's jerk with the rhythm of his fucking. You hold on tightly for the ride, your knees hugging at his ribs as you give him all the room he needs to move inside of you.

His tip bully’s it’s way deep, too deep. You wail as it kisses your cervix. That sharp pain back, combined with the pleasure it was unbearable.

“Ah” you arch into the sensation, confused at the way your body welcomes it even though it stings, and feels scarily new. Neteyam grabs your left leg, raises it high until your calf rests on his shoulder.

Your eyes cross, your mouth falls open in a wordless gasp.

Everytime you try to suck in a breath, he fills you right back up. Hits that secretive, sensitive spot relentlessly. Its maddening, makes you shake all over-

“Neteyam” you warn, reaching for his hand. He just grabs your fingers, pins your arm over your head, hand held captive by his fingers as he starters down at you.

“Yeah? Are you there?” His thrusts turn very pointed, deliberate “Come for me, come all over me”

You’re tightening up quickly, screeching as you clench around his plowing cock. The waves of pleasure are almost too much, feels too good. Your stomach quivers, and it’s like you dove from the highest cliff as you’re struck by your first orgasm.

It’s so good you can taste it-

-You choke on it as Neteyam continues his relentless pace. Not slowing down even a little bit as you struggle. Left hypersensitive, still pulsing around him as your orgasm is drawn out. Never ending. You’re blubbering, trying to ground yourself, holding onto him as he pistons inside of you.

His panting breaths are damp as he hides in the skin of your neck.

Holds his body to yours as he works himself to his release. One of his hands still keeps your arm pinned above your head- the other works his way to your leg that’s loose around his hips. Props it up to join the other, so that both of your legs dangle over his broad shoulders. Bends you into a mating press that has you screaming. Truly unable to take in a breath as he displays all that strength of his- and holds you down. Makes you take what you’d wanted to much.

It doesn't take much at all- when his sharp canines graze your shoulder you’re gone for. You don't think you’d truly come down from the last orgasm when you fall into another. You can't even take in a breath to make sound, you just wheeze as you come.

Neteyam had wanted this to be special. Had wanted to do it right- to mate you the way that your ancestors had intended.

As he bites into your shoulder, his teeth breaking the skin- he seals the bond. Its painful, and the sharp metallic twang of your blood fills his mouth as he fills your pussy with his seed.

His groin presses against yours, holding you still. Keeping the rivers of his release inside of you. You're whimpering and twitching, yet still he pins you.

His warm, slippery tongue laves against the sluggishly bleeding wound.

He hopes that it sticks.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

The hours drone by and day turns to night, the dusk not bringing an end to the storms. If anything they get louder. The rain falling heavier, thunder roaring startlingly. You are so beyond fucking glad that you don't have to brave it, that you instead get to laze in bed. Wrapped up in warm, worn blankets.

Your body melts into Neteyam’s as he massages every inch of exposed skin. His strong fingers digging into your tired muscles as you lounge against him, cheek laid comfortably on his chest.

You feel boneless, but also more powerful than you ever have before. You’re a woman mated now. All of those seasons spent alone, all of the whispers. They don't matter now.

You have a mate.

You hug Neteyams waist a little tighter, hiding your smile in his dark skin.

He chuckles, can feel how proud you are of yourself through the bond. He hasn't bothered to disconnect your kuru’s after he’d slipped out of you, not ready to release the Tsaheylu. You we’re more then happy to be connected for him for as long as he liked.

You think you might enjoy this part as much as the sex. The afterwards is soft, he attendants to you diligently. You can feel his affection pour off of him in waves. It's thrilling, all of it. This whole day had been filled with fresh experiences. You feel brand new, a different side of yourself coming to the surface.

You’d never been anyone’s lover before.

It makes you all giddy and excited, being his. Having him be yours.

You tell him things you’d never told another soul, not even Tsireya. All your secrets come flowing out of you like a babbling brooke. You want him to know all of you, even the embarrassing scary parts.

“I can see it” He chuckles heartily at the story from your childhood. The one about a bet gone wrong, one where Roxto had been drug down the depths by an angry mother Kapapal(octopus). You’d jumped in after him even though you we’re smaller then a shell shocked Ao’nung, it had all ended in a cloud of black ink that had stained your skin for weeks “You’re my brave little warrior, aren't you?”

“You are the brave one between the two of us. It’s not every tsamsiyu (warrior) that can pass two Iknimaya”

Neteyam shrugs, his hands working on a knot between your shoulder blades “Things like that have never been hard for me. It's simple when there's a task that I can see the end of. It’s like- that is the way my mind works. Anything can be done if you keep your head down and figure out a way whether through. Lo’ak calls me a bootlicker for it. Maybe he’s right, I do not know”

Your fingers dance along a raised, jagged scar. It's on his lower stomach, stretched out across his right hip. It had to have hurt, even now you can feel how deep the scar tissue runs. His body is littered with them. Little tokens from the war. It hurts you that his learned coping mechanism is essentially just sticking it out. Bracing himself against the pain and swallowing it down.

He’d never have to do that again. Not with you.

You cup his jaw “Your brothers not the brightest ilu in the pod, I wouldn't pay any mind to his opinions. It’s why I’m glad that him and Ao’nung are friends now- their voices cancel eachother out”

Neteyams laughter is ringing and contagious.

He’s beautiful when he’s given the opportunity to be vulnerable. When he’s not weighed down with the weight of all of his responsibilities. His eyes glitter when he talks about the forest, about his grandmother and the Omiticaya people. About the vast mountain ranges and dense, endless greenery.

Even when he speaks of the war and training, its not with the sadness that you know you’d be overcome with if you ever had to face such adversities. He was good at following orders and giving them, had an entire air fleet that was at his control.

He mentions a name a few times. A female name. You can help but notice it.

And its stupid. Really it is, but you recall how he'd said you were the tightest he’d ever been with. How many women had be been with, back home? You knew that he wasn't a virgin. He’d never put up that front with you but still-

You busy yourself with the still raw tattoo that sprawls over his right arm. Across his shoulder and down his bicep. It’s still hot and healing. Easy for you to focus on, your withdrawing nature flaring up protectively. You’d rather focus on tending to his wounds then being stupidly upset about his past romps.

You retreat from his arms with a small smile, gently breaking Tsaheylu-

“Hey!” Neteyam protests, reaching to pull you back, but you just giggle at his antics. Standing up and scurrying to the other side of the hut.

Your belongings were scattered all over the place- but still. You dig for the little jar. Giving a triumphant little “aha” when you find it.

He pouts as you plop back down next to him, demanding you give you his arm.

“It’ll get infected if you don't take care of it” you warn as you spread the viscous liquid over the slightly raised ink. Rubbing it into his skin, blowing on it when he hisses about the sting. Kelp Jelly tended to do that. Still, he leans into your touch.

“Let me put some on your shoulder” he requests when you’re finished nodding at the scabbing bite on the juncture where your shoulder met your neck. You allow him to dip his long fingers into the jar, to spread it over your own wound.

“Did I upset you?”

“No”

“Liar” he sighs, working the jelly in a thick layer “I felt it through Tsaheylu. Was it the war? I don't have to talk about that if you don't want me to”

“Of course it wasnt that…” your lips purse as you try to pick your words in a way that will least embarrass you. Try and fail. “Who’s Zeytawni?”

Neteyam gives you a long blank look before a smile cracks across his handsome face. His braids sway as he shakes his head, his thumb brushes soothingly at the skin around the bite.

“You are the most jealous woman I’ve ever met” He’s extremely amused, it makes your cheeks burn and a haughty protest raise in your throat.

“I am not! And if I was-am I not rightfully jealous? The two of you we’re obviously close” you splutter because it's not fair! That it’s all a joke to him. You’re always so flustered and he’s always so collected “I know that you have had…women. I get to be curious about that. I’ve never had partners the way that you have. I don't have anything to compare it to-”

“Stop” Neteyam’s voice is sage but demanding. He puts the jar of healing salve down beside him- before his fingers spread across your bare breast bone. Pressing his palm firmly against your heart.

“There’s nothing to compare. Nothing at all. Please do not ever break the bond again before you ask me about other women. You could’ve have felt for yourself what I feel about all of this.”

Your mouth quirks as you roll his words over in your head. You know he’s right- that you had a one way ticket into his head just moments ago. But maybe you’d been scared about what you’d find. Still naively clinging on to your insecurity.

“I'm just not very experienced. You know that. I’d barely done anything with anyone before you” You whisper, feeling smaller than you we’re.

“That’s…not a bad thing. Not for me. I don't like the idea of anyone else touching you” Neteyam reassures you, but his jaw smarts. Like even thinking about this makes him a little sick.

You get a little thrill out of it “Why? Are you…jealous?”

He snorts. His amber eyes boring into yours for a moment before he speaks “You know exactly how I feel about the attention you get from the men in the village”

You giggle, reaching out to press a peck of a kiss to his cheek “No one ever sparked my interest.”

“Really?” He argues, scoffing a bit as he pickles on a loose thread of the bed mat “None of them seemed to get that hint, huh? They all thought they had a chance.”

You shimmy as close to him as you can get, molding yourself into his side. His arm raises so that you can press right under his armpit, skin to skin. Your hardening nipples graze the side of his ribcage.

You love this. It may not be exactly healthy but you do.

You love feeling like you're not the only one losing your damn mind over the idea of ever having to share what the two of you had.

You smother the side of his face in kisses, your lips pecking all over his cheeks. His nose. The corner of his lips- which purse as he gives a halfhearted return.

“You’re the only one who ever had a chance” you promise as you begin to drag wet open-mouthed kisses down his neck. He’d shed his many chokers, and his bare throat is just so pretty.

“Ahuh” he grumbles, but his head lulls, giving you more room “Even today, I watched so many head’s turn to watch you. As you readied to move into my hut, to live with me. It’s maddening”

You heat up at his words. You feel your core begin to pulse again. You want him like this all of the time, and you know that the future is going to be littered with attempts at getting your man this riled up as much as possible.

“Mark me up some more?” you suggest, casually as ever. Grinning when your mate groans a little at the idea “Cover me in your cum. Make me smell so much like you that no one will ever question who I belong to.”

You yelp, shocked, when his hand claps loudly against your ass.

Swatting it once in warning, before his big paw begins to grope at the hot flesh. For a moment you’re so surprised, so scandalized, that you freeze.

That’s just for a moment though. You’re quickly resuming your assault on his neck, your tail wagging excitedly behind you.

“You like this?” He phrases it as a question, even though the bastard already knows. As though he can't tell, can't feel how wet you are for him when his fingers slip between your cheeks and circle your hole. Your pussy's already futtering for him.

“Mhmm” you whine as he presses into you, fingers disappearing knuckle deep. Not slow, no. He starts to fuck you with them almost automatically “Of course I like that you want me”

He pounds you with his hand and you gasp into his ear, jutting out your sweet behind. Wanting him harder, wanting all three of his long digits pressed as far into as they can go. It feels almost like a punishment…

You think you might like that, too.

“Silly girl” He chastises as he plays your body like a flute “I’ll always want you”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

The week passes by, although you truly wish it wouldn't- and slowly the rains start to clear. The storms fading into something docile, rainbows glittering as they catch on the many little windchimes you’d hung at the entrance of your home.

You and Neteyam don't leave the Mauri once. Completely enthralled with one and other. Intertwined too deeply to move far from the bed mat. He keeps you fed, cleaned and hydrated. Tends to any and all of your needs. Makes sure your greedy body is satiated-

“Ma Nete” you whine from your place among the blankets. The pout on your face is endearing, dramatic as anything though. "Don't go"

The two of you hadn't broken Tsaheylu in days. You could survive the separated bond for ten minutes.

“I have to go get more fresh water. We ran out last night- don’t look at me like that! I’ll be right back!” He’s refastening the leather straps of his tweng. He just has to go as far as the center of the village, to the well.

You’re not having it. You have no idea how he had wrestled his way out of your arms, but this wouldn't do. There we’re still women in the throws of Fertility Season. You could hear the caterwauling. He couldn't just go out there with all of his muscles-

“But paskalin(honey). We can go get water later. Together” you protest and he shakes his head, grabbing the water pail next to the fire pit.

“Or I can go get it now and get it over with” he sniggers, making a move for the doorway. He’s reaching for the flap, reading himself to leave.

When your pitiful moan rings through the air.

He should be strong, should be a dutiful mate. Needs to clear his head enough that he can take care of you-

Instead he turns back.

You’re a dirty cheat, he’s learned that fact during the last week. A sore loser. A little brat who couldn't take no for an answer. He’d spend the rest of his days spoiling you rotten and he blames Tonowari for it. He wonders if the older man had ever given you healthy boundaries;

You’d do just about anything to get your way. Resort to nasty tricks that you know he couldn't resist-

This being one of said tricks.

You’re on your hands and knees, your spine a perfect arch as you raise your ass into the air, and keep your head and shoulders pressed into the bedding. Your thighs parted wide as you reach back, tugging on your cheeks.

Presenting beautifully for him. The perfect picture of submission.

Your still wet holes wink at him hypnotically. Luring him back like a fish on a hook.

His Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows, hard. Feet rooted in place as he battles with himself.

“Y/N…” He warns, even though he knows it’s futile. He can't resist you like this.

Can't resist you at all.

“Come taste” you purr, wiggling your hips as your delicate fingers trace the furl of your sphincter. “Tastes so good, huh, paskalin? It's cause I'm full of your cum. We taste so nice combined”

Neteyam groans, deep and gutted, and the pail clatters to the floor.

He dives back in, face first.

Not at all ashamed over the fact that his previously unswayable sense of duty deems to dissipate when it comes to you and your demands.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

The village is coming back to life. Couples rejoining the world after their week spent intimately tucked away. Slowly but surely Awa’atlu will return back to it’s everyday routine.

Jake maneuvers the walkways, smiling at people he passes. It had been much like this, in the forest. Fertility Season had been something he’d definitely had to get used to, a culture shock to the extreme, but once he realized how important it was to the Na’vi he’d got with the program pretty damn fast.

It's a sacred ritual, Neytiri had explained to him the first time he’d participated in the ritual. He had spent the week trying to keep up with his mate, completely surprised by the tantric, communal, act of sex.

It’s vital for their population, Norm and Max elucidated. They needed to have these seasons so that their tribes can stay afloat. If they don't, there weren't be enough babies born.

Whatever the true cause, it was an experience for sure. Back home in the forest as the Omiticayan Olo’eyktan, he’d been much more hands on. Running around like a chicken with his head cut off for weeks before the event. Organizing the hunt, making sure the coupling Na’vi were taken care of. Keeping the entire clan afloat.

It had been different this year, as most things we’re since the big move to the coast.

This year he was just another Metkayina clans member. He and his mate still had children under their care and didn't feel the lure of the heat as intensely. He wondered if after Tuk came of age, would Neytiri want to go back to being active participants?-

They Sully’s had been of service where they could, picking up any slack. Helping with odd jobs. Kiri had been a great help to Ronal, her quick healing hands had come in handy to the heavily pregnant Tsahik. Tuk beaded bracelets and delivered them, along with little prayers, to everyone's doorsteps. Neytiri had become quite the fisherman in her time on the Island and made sure to double up on her hunts, less anyone need a meal. Even Lo’ak had pitched in, an aid when needed. The kid bitched about it the whole time, but Jake had reminded him that it would be him in the mating couples’ place soon. Lo’ak had rolled his eyes and shrugged his dad off. Jake didn't miss the way his youngest son shot a very busy Tsireya a lingering look.

There was one very big presence missing though.

His eldest son had always been his right hand man, and especially during busy times of the year such as this, Neteyam was the always biggest help. Running around almost as much as Jake, taking on any and all responsibility. Completing even the most minute of errands.

Another change this year. His eldest had finally chosen a mate. And had been locked away in his own Mauri for the past week. Participating in Fertility Season for his first time.

It's why Jake was sent on this little task. Neytiri had filled a large woven basket with more food. Pitchers of well water, replacements of medicinal herbs.

“Isn't this a little much? We just got them all stocked up-”

Jake hadn't even bothered to finish his sentence, cut off by his wife’s withering glare. He’d just taken the basket and promised to deliver it safely.

He adores that she’s such a good mother to their children, he’d lacked that back on Earth. Him and Tommy had all but raised themselves. But did she have to be such a…hover mom? Neteyam had made it clear that he wanted some space to mate with Y/N. Private from his bustling family.

Jake couldn't deny that he’d missed his boy. Was a bit worried about him. Neteyam been so against mating back in the forest, rejected any and all proposals. Fertility Season could be…alot, to say the least. A marathon that even the most experienced had trouble running. Jake wasn't ashamed to say that he’d fainted his first time. Neytiri had almost killed him.

He’ll just check in quickly. Drop off the goods. Make sure no one is unconscious. It’ll be fine, most everyone has come out from the haze of the Season anyway. The two of you we’re probably just recovering from the week. Cleaning up-

As he reaches the Mauri, he realizes how wrong he was.

Your moans can be heard through the walls. Syrupy and raspy, you sound worn out. Yet nowhere near stopping.

“Neteyam- ugh-right there. Right there”

Jakes ears flatten against his head and his eyes go comically wide.

“Take it, Y/N. Fuck-”

Jake abandons the basket by the door and hightails it the fuck out of there before he hears anymore. Na’vi are different about sexuality. Far more open. There’s no stigma or shame, just love and acceptance. He’d grown to appreciate it during his years on Pandora.

That being said, Jake had no desire to hear his eldest son fucking his mate. Grown man or not. Call it the tawtute in him.

He’s still a little mortified, even when he makes it back to his own Mauri. Neytiri is sat by the firepit, slow roasting a recent catch. His other kids are nowhere to be found.

“What is it?” she questions as he plops down. Her husband looks a bit shell shocked.

Jake takes a beat, before turning to her. A peculiar look on his face “I’m pretty sure we’re going to be grandparents soon. Like, very soon. Like as soon as possible”

Ah. Her husband and his earthly modesty.

She can't help but laugh at it. After all these years, he still was so easy to fluster. Her sister and Tsu’tey had spent their first Fertility Season under the same roof as the rest of the family. It wasn't odd, or frowned upon.

A part of her wishes Neteyam had done the same so that she could take better care of him and Y/N.

“If the Great Mother wills it, yes” She pats his five fingered hand encouragingly.

“There is no way that girl isn't pregnant right now. Don't you think I’m too young to be a grandpa?”

“No. You are very old now, my love. Look at all of that gray in your hair” Neytiri jests, pointing out the silvery webbing that had started to sprout from Jakes dreads.

“Skxawng!” He swats at her and the two of them break into giggles as he takes out his knife and starts to cut the vegetables, helps her prepare dinner.

After all of the years, their rapport is easy. They move in harmony. She is very excited that her eldest son has finally found someone to build with. He had been so picky, she was worried he might end up an eternal bachelor, forever fated to take care of his siblings.

Neteyam deserved so much more than that.

“I miss having a prrnen(baby) around. Tuk has grown so fast. My time to birth children has come and gone, I am ready for grandchildren. Though I wish they could be raised in the forest” Neytiri shoots her husband a look “They will need us to guide them through it. To protect them. Family is our fortress, that is what you say. Our family is growing, Ma Jake”

Neytiri had been younger than her son is now when she birthed him.

She had no doubts that he was capable of raising a family. He’d helped them raise theirs. Always more of a parental figure than a sibling. She’s factual as she reminds her husband. He’ll be a fun grandpa, he decides. Paw Paw.

He gets a blank confused stare in response. Tuk comes running in, talking a mile a minute, before Neytiri can question Jake about what a “pah-pah” is.

Neytiri prays to the great mother before she goes to sleep that night. For healthy pregnancies and easy deliveries. For her eldest son and his mate’s happiness.

That Fertility Season had been good to them.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

Welp, welp, welppppp. I finally finished it. I want you guys to know how hard it was to get this finished. The amount of WIPS that sit unfinished in my drafts is actually sad.

But this story feels special. The response I have gotten to it has made me happier than I can express.

I'm so grateful to be a part of this fandom. Really. Pandora is such a fin world to escape into and play in and the fact that you guys enjoy reading what I consider self therapy is fucking amazing.

Next chapter will be full of pregnancy and pregnancy talk!!! If that’s triggering at all please just be aware that it’s coming and you can skip it if you’d like.

Also thinking about who’s POV we want to see next. Lo’ak’s maybe?

Again I want to remind you that I write what I want to read. I know that Na’vi don’t really have beds or blankets buttttt- I want them to.

Is there rice on Pandora? I’m not sure. My readers gonna eat some rice though.

Was it necessary for Neteyam to bite the shit out of her to seal the deal? Yup. Cause I wanted him to.

Part Four should be out in the next couple weeks. Thanks for being patient with me!

The taglist for this story is closed buttttt I am really good at linking my posts so just keep an eye on my page/Masterlist for updates!

Til next time babies.

Leave me all the good comments- you may get a teaser faster if you do lol

#neteyam smut #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x reader #aged up neteyam #neteyam x metkayina!reader #mating

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chenfleur · 10 months

Text

love blossoms in new soil — an enhypen series

SUMMARY. It's official: Deluna Academy, an all-girls school in Lumiose, is to merge with Crescelis Academy, the community's all-boys one. With a combined student body, who knows what sorts of people can be met with what sorts of stories to tell? In the walls of the newly-formed Decelis Academy, love plants its seed and blossoms.

FEATURING. enhypen's lee heeseung, park sunghoon, yang jungwon, and nishimura riki

GENRE. (vary by part) fluff, angst, suggestive, private school au, boarding school au

WARNINGS. (vary by part) profanity

AUTHOR'S NOTE. summaries (& also like. everything else lol) are all subject to change because i cannot write them to save my damn life 😭😭😭

DISCLAIMER. all stories are set in the same universe! - they can be read as standalones; however, they are strongly interlinked and contain references (especially heeseung and sunghoon's installments!) i highly recommend reading them all to get a deeper understanding of the characters and timeline. they are listed in the recommended order. - please note that heeseung, sunghoon, and jungwon's installments occur at the same time, while niki's takes place one year later.

— a letter from the decelis academy admin team. (details abt the world)

since we saw the sun rise — lee heeseung

PAIRING. track athlete!heeseung x y/n

GENRE. angst, fluff, suggestive, brother's best friend au, older brother!sunghoon, one year age gap, private school au, boarding school au [more tbd]

WARNINGS. profanity [more tbd]

WORD COUNT. tbd.

SUMMARY. Having to now see you, his best friend's little sister, all the time makes Heeseung realize he's fucked. The loyalty he has for your brother wills him not to indulge; but when he finds himself spending time with you, he can feel himself surrendering—and it's no different for you. The last thing you want is for Sunghoon to lose his best friend—even if it means you have to suffer.

STATUS. unreleased

cat & mouse — park sunghoon

PAIRING. sunghoon x y/n

GENRE. angst, fluff, suggestive, (mostly one-sided) enemies to lovers, private school au, boarding school au [more tbd]

WARNING. profanity, sunghoon is an infuriating character, he is the cause of the mc's emotional despair [more tbd]

WORD COUNT. tbd.

SUMMARY. An 'overlook in logistics' has stripped Sunghoon of late nights with his friends, and now he's forced to dorm with you. He finds you utterly irritating, and is convinced he hates you. But why does hate feel like a wildfire in his chest? Why does hate feel like longing? Sunghoon doesn't know how to handle his emotions, and it leaves you trapped in his cat-and-mouse game.

STATUS. unreleased

in time, the mist clears — yang jungwon

PAIRING. student council member!jungwon x y/n

GENRE. fluff, angst, forbidden romance(?), private school au, boarding school au

WARNINGS. profanity, mc has a bad relationship with her mom

WORD COUNT. tbd.

SUMMARY. The news of the merge leaves you absolutely mortified. Your mother had sent you to Deluna to ensure you had no distractions, and you know if she were to catch wind of the news, you'd be gone from school immediately. Your days are spent wondering when you'd have to leave—but when Jungwon enters your life, you finally drift to calmer waters.

STATUS. unreleased

flare — nishimura riki

PAIRING. riki x y/n

GENRE. fluff, angst, private school au, boarding school au [more tbd]

WARNINGS. profanity [more tbd]

WORD COUNT. tbd.

SUMMARY. Sending his friends off to university doesn't hit Riki that hard until he realizes how lost he is in life; without a support system, doubts wreak havoc in his mind. Meeting you is like seeing a lighthouse in the fog. He finds solace in you, and along the way, he slowly finds the fulfillment he's been missing.

STATUS. unreleased

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goodolddumbbanana · 1 month

Text

(Molten/Sun platonic) A little nightmare [TW: Violence, blood, maybe bugs]

Summary: I like angsty and fluff. i have problem man.

The Thing Creator install still inside Sun's head. It still totured Sun but it made him forget everything after he woke up.

**********

They say there are three things that separate machines from humans.

The first is that humans feel pain, machines don't.

The second is that humans can dream, machines don't.

And the last is that humans have emotions, machines can only fake them.

So when all three conditions are met, can machines call themselves human?

***

Someone's heavy breathing. The hallway is dyed red with blood, seeing the fleeing figure struggling in the swamp of flesh and bone that is dragging them down. They are like trapped in the stomach of a monster, with the walls vibrating in a steady rhythm as if breathing and the flickering eyes that watch their misery like something to behold.

Sun tries to pull himself out of the swamp. His limbs thrash in panic, as his mouth opens, hoping to get some oxygen. A sweet, fishy taste rushed into Sun’s mouth, making him make pitiful gurgling noises as he was about to choke.

‘It’s not real.’

‘It’s all in your head, Sun.’

‘Be patient, Moon will come to save you.’

But no matter how many times he repeated the mantra, Sun himself couldn’t believe it.

Every night. Every damn freaking night. Sun would be stuck here, reliving the endless pain his dear old father had left him the day that wretched old hag hacked into his head.

First was the broken leg.

Pain that made him hard to breathe. Pain that felt like his lungs were being squeezed and submerged in water. Pain worse than anything Eclipse and Moon had ever put him through before, pain that left him unable to scream. His nails dug into the metal, bending it and creating ugly scratches and dents as an unhealthy defense mechanism to ease the pain.

If Sun had a tongue, he would have bitten it off by now.

Then came the loss of vision.

The mist was so thick it was hard to breathe, surrounding Sun like a heavy, wet blanket. It clung to Sun’s throat, sharp as if it contained tiny metal fragments, invading Sun’s circuit boards and fans like termites, feasting on the wires inside Sun’s body. It felt like thousands of worms were eating him from the inside out, with buzzing sounds mixed with screams that almost reached the limits of Sun’s madness.

‘Tear it out… Tear it out… Take it all out! PLEASE!!!’

Sun cried out for help, but nobody came. His pearly eyes were still red, the smell of burning flesh lingering in his nose like sap on the hottest day. The electric explosions were whistling inside him, the system kept popping out golden triangles, even now, it was replaced by plump white legless creatures crawling across his inner screen.

Hearing was the last thing.

In that eerie silence, Sun's screams were swallowed into nothingness. He had a mouth, but he couldn't scream.

***

"Frog dissection experiments are really inhumane, right Mr.Sun?"

Sun blinked, and suddenly, he was in the daycare. The room music was whispering in his ears, and the brilliant colors of light kissed Sun's skin.

'Wha–?!'

A small hand grabbed Sun's ribbon and shook it. The little boy with the superhero cape had eyes shining like stars, looking at him with anticipation and excitement.

"What did you say? I don't understand..." Sun stuttered. "Well... It's educational to some extent... I guess?"

"Sunny!!..." The kid huffed. The other kids looked at each other with amusement.

"See, Huey, you're wrong!" Another kid, wearing big glasses and blond hair, shouted.

"Shut up Jackie! My mom says it's not nice to hurt animals!" Huey waved his arms wildly, for some reason the red of the cape wrapped around this kid reminded him of blood.

"Pfft!! You are chicken!! Chicken Huey!" Jackie stuck out his tongue.

The twins behind him squealed with laughter, matching the rhyme: "Huey's a chicken! Huey's a chicken!"

"Come on James, Jamie. You can't tease Huey like that." Sun cut off the teasing when he noticed Huey was starting to tear up. “That’s not good, okay?”

“I’m not a chicken.” Huey’s eyes were red, his voice starting to crack. Sun pulled Huey into his arms, patting the child’s back. A sick feeling came over him as the child lay snugly in his arms.

“No one said Huey was a chicken. You’re the bravest person I know. Those kids were just teasing…”

“But what do you think, Sunny?”

A whisper rang out in Sun’s heart. The music had stopped at some point, and something was dripping behind Sun.

“What–!?”

“Do you think that because a frog’s life is worth less than a human’s, it deserves to be tortured like that, Sun?”

Something slipped out of Sun’s arms, falling to the ground. A human body, the body of a child. In Sun’s arms was only Huey’s head. Two empty eye sockets stared at him, the boy’s mouth still open, smiling at him.

In the blink of an eye, what had once been the daycare was gone. Bodies were strewn everywhere, and blood was in Sun's hands. But right now, Sun was too small, too weak. A laugh rang out, a laugh that Sun was sure was his own, but it didn’t escape his mouth.

His clone, another Sun, stood before Sun with a look of satisfaction. There was blood on the other’s sunbeam, and his intestines and brains were still neatly placed on the monster’s shoulders.

“Brother, look. We have a winner~~~”

“Oh~~~Why don’t we give the winner a prize?”

Sun didn’t even have time to react.‌ The other’s claws shot out, grabbed Sun’s head, and slammed it hard against the ground. He couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, couldn’t do anything but watch as his brains were splattered and his limbs were torn to pieces like rag dolls.

***

“Doctor, look at this specimen.” Sun suddenly found himself trapped in some kind of operating room, with his real body. Surrounded by anatomical images of fish, frogs, and even worms. Opposite his sight was a fish tank. The goldfish swam silently inside, circling around a moon doll whose head was torn off by someone. “Even though it’s dead, it can still move~~~”

Bloodmoon appeared before Sun’s eyes, the red moon model grinning at him with delight, the monster wearing a pure white nurse’s uniform, not a single blemish in contrast to their bloody hands.

The other person was also Bloodmoon, but it was the one who had been destroyed by Puppet. Over their red and blue coats was a surgical gown that specialized doctors often wore.

Sun felt the inside of his chest split open, these two gremlins's hands rudely stirring up the wires and circuit boards inside.

“Hmm, you’re right, my nurse. Let’s say, I think if we increase the current, I feel like we can make some progress.” Blood nodded, as they ruthlessly tore the fan off Sun’s body.

“Aren’t you afraid it will die again?” The other chuckled, but his hand was already ready to plug the power cord into Sun’s charger.

“Isn't It just a useless thing, my nurse? We can easily replace it with something else.”

And the pain tore everything white, accompanied by Bloodmoon’s cruel chuckle.

***

Sun felt like he was going crazy.

Maybe he was already crazy.

In a blink of an eye, he was back in hell. His whole body was shaking, choking on the air filled with mist and smoke, with a heavy feeling like someone’s hand was dragging him down into the mud. Sun could only limp to the ground, even moving an inch was enough to hurt him so much that he couldn’t breathe.

A black figure stood staring at him, an almost octopus-like body with tendrils shooting out all around, pitch black with irises staring back at him.

“What more do you want!!?” Sun spat. He glared at the person in front of him. His torturer. His prisoner. His newest roommate for over a dozen days.

The Thing.

And as always, the bastard said nothing. A virus, whose sole purpose was to torture him, that didn’t even have a sentient yet.

It moved closer to Sun, the seemingly delicate yet sturdy metal wires pulling Sun up despite Sun’s feeble struggles. The wires clung to the joints and shafts of the frame, tight enough to make him walk like a puppet.

“What?!‌! Say something!!!”

There was only silence in response. There was the sound of dripping water, and the rattling of plastic balls in Sun’s ears. The pain suddenly disappeared, as did the unreadable look on ‘The Thing’s’ face, always shrouded in red mist.

Sun felt no pain. He felt nothing. He felt empty, so empty and peaceful that it was scary.

Suddenly, a loud, harsh noise, the sound of metal breaking.

What could it be? Sun wondered absentmindedly, suddenly finding his vision lowered.

Oh… The thing that broke turned out to be him.

Piece by piece… Piece by piece the metal that had once shaped Sun fell, crumbling to dust. His face fell off, sinking into the water.

The darkness was cold and too suffocating.

Sun prayed that this would be his final destination.

***

“Sun? Sun, wake up.”

A strange, monotonous, mechanical sound rang out in Sun’s ears.‌ The saffron-colored animatronic jerked awake in confusion, its mouth opening in a jumble of questions.

A soft icy blue light caught Sun’s eyes. A Freddy model with white fur and orange spots, looked at him curiously.

“Oh? Molten? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, no. I saw you fall asleep. Are you tired, Sun?”

Sun looked around in confusion. He was sitting in front of the movie screen. It was strange, when did he fall asleep? He and Molten were watching a movie. Something from Marvel… Then maybe he fell asleep because he was bored? Sun checked his internal system, and found that his battery was only below 30%.

“Oh… It’s okay Molten, I just forgot to plug it in. I guess practicing magic somehow drained my energy more than usual.”

“Can I help? I want to help.” Molten’s ears twitched as if he was excited. It was strange because Sun had never seen Freddy or any Freddy model like Molten.

It was… quite cute to some extent.

“Oh, no need.” Sun stood up and stretched. His whole body was sore, probably from lying in the wrong position. Right now, all he wanted to do was lie in bed, but the thought of going back to sleep or standing up to charge somehow made him feel discouraged.

Never mind, he could charge himself standing up with the solar power anyway.

“Are you used to everything here, Molten?”

“Yes! Everyone here is really nice!!” Sun could feel stars twinkling in Molten's eye as they rambled on about Moon, about Solar, about Daycare…

“And you haven’t met Jack and Dazzle yet. They’re all pretty cool, trust me.” Sun chuckled, his eyes wandering to the chair where the popcorn crumbs were scattered. It was dirty, bugs, bugs, he hated bugs… Why does he feel like he wants to hit something right now?

“Oh, new friends? I like having new friends. We can play games, and watch movies…” Molten nodded. Their hands were bent, but the sharp, smooth wire still made a rustling sound along the way. Something made Sun feel uneasy, but Sun didn't know what it was.

Maybe he should ask Moon to run the system again, it had been a long time since he had upgraded anyway.

But maybe later. Moon was quite busy, and Solar too. The Computer got broke, which caused them a lot of trouble. Too much work to do and too little time to spend.

"But you're fine, Sun." The words sounded so gentle in Sun's ears that he was startled. Sun looked up, Motlen's face still looked the same, a look of innocent joy that made Sun a mixture of guilt and relaxation.

Why are you so nice to me? I don't deserve it, I really don't deserve it at all. I'm not as smart as Moon or as reliable as Solar. Even Monty is more responsible than me.

I will destroy you.

I will be the venom that will burn you from the inside.

I will turn the best part of you into something ugly, like Rocksan, like Nexus, all because I dare to think about caring.

Eclipse is right, I'm an ungrateful idiot who only knows how to cling to others.

As if reading his mind, Molten smiled. "I love to hang out with you because I know you are a good and caring person. But I know it is hard for you to believe it. So I will keep saying these words until you believe the words I say are true."

Something stirred in Sun's chest, so quickly that he immediately suppressed the feeling.

Can he really have a friend? Someone wouldn't suddenly break like Rocksan, someone wouldn’t be so spiral like Nexus.

Is it okay for him to have someone other than Moon?

“Hahahaha… yeah sure, Molten.”

Sun laughed, but inside he had no answer to that confusion.

Please leave me.Please stay with me.

***

“Hope is a terrible thing, Sun. It keeps you from giving up no matter how hard things get, but it can also make your situation worse without you even knowing it. Why is the sinner clings to a spider’s thread, even though he knows it will break, he still tries to climb up countless times?

That is because of hope, or desperation?

A song that is danced to many times will become boring too, don’t you think it is true, son? Are you ready to give up?”

Creator asked his creation affectionately, who was forcefully sitting on a throne that was stacked high with human bones.

Exhausted, bloody, bruised, and stained with a clean brown and yellow, the son of the most self-absorbed bastard on the planet, who could only move his head right now, gritting out the words.

“Go to hell, old man.”

“Oh well, and I thought I am making some progress. It's a shame this talk didn’t work out. Let's try again, my boy. See you next time, Sun.”

The brain chuckled, and once again the hands grabbed Sun and pulled him into the water, making gurgling, gurgling sounds.

“Maybe I should switch the target to Molten.”

#sun and moon show #tsams #sams #the sun and moon show #sams sun #tsams sun #tsams molten #molten x sun #haha i am crused #molten/sun

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leportraitducadavre · 7 months

Note

How do you feel about Haku and Zabuza, and what was introduced in the Land of Waves that contained elements of genocide and the purging of the Hidden Mist? I'm just curious to know your thoughts on them and the structure the first arc provided

Haku introduced something that was later deepened with Sasuke's character and story. While Haku's experience is similar to Sasuke's, both contexts differ in that Haku knew from a young age the persecution of people like him (and his mother), while the discrimination of the Uchiha clan was much more specific as it was focused on one particular family.

The first arc introduces such matters, yet it does little to bring light to Konoha's particular case, which will become the plot's main focus later on. While it's established that Tobirama was the one that created the bureaucratic system that Konoha follows and which was used as a model for the rest,

Source

each village's relationship with kekkei genkai users varies, although every single one persecuted or discriminated against those with such techniques.

Kekkei Genkai are feared -therefore, those who possess them are persecuted/killed. While what he says is solely linked to Mist, the weariness towards those with such bloodlines is clearly universal as these individuals possessed the most "natural advantages" for combat out of most (likely, hidden techniques were created for a similar purpose).

Tobirama’s reason for discriminating against the Uchiha was because of how their doujutsu developed and evolved, and nothing of his weariness was overcome by those who came after him, as we see Haku, from another village and generation, suffering the consequences of a fear born on the Warring State Era. Kakashi is particularly accepted because he has the Sharingan but not the blood/chakra of a Uchiha as he’s not part of the bloodline.

Furthermore, Sasuke is directly mentioned in the exchange, Naruto even links Haku’s words to Sasuke’s goal: To kill someone (Itachi who killed his clan because of the fear they installed in the power-ups: they were accused and punished for controlling the Kyuubi without a shred of single evidence, Itachi even canonically states later on that there’s “no hope for this clan” meaning, those who carry the bloodline).

Haku's admission of feeling lonely and unwanted can be directly reflected in Sasuke's character and it's a comparison that Naruto makes for himself; all three children were shunned and abandoned for something they had no control over nor chose to have, and there's a system that not only turns a deaf ear to such issues but also encourages it.

There’s an interaction between Tazuna and Kakashi, where Kakashi mentions that a previous Hokage (we aren’t told whom) taught his people to “fight for what is right”, selling the idea to the civilian in front of him that his hidden village (specifically) is the “good” side against the “evil” side (Zabuza, Gato -even other hidden villages). However, this particular speech of Kakashi, which he gives solely to Tazuna and not to his subordinates (who, by Tazuna’s standards are children), clashes with the prior idea that “missions’ feuds are high and we do what we are paid to do” (assassinations or babysitting). Meaning: there’s a narrative to be told to civilians to shape their view of shinobi (particularly Konoha’s), and the actual reality that only Team 7 (as ninjas), gets to see. In addition, during Kakashi’s second fight against Zabuza (CH 30), Kakashi states that Konoha (therefore, he), knows about the swordsman’s attempt to coup and kill the current Mizukage -alongside his wish to raise funds to attempt another coup after his failure. We learned previously thanks to Haku’s background that there’s a bloodline cleansing currently happening in Mist; a genocide on such a large scale can’t be kept secret that long -furthermore, there’s no indication that the murders are happening quietly either since those who possessed Kekkei Genkai were pushed to hide their bloodline; and if Konoha knows about Zabuza and his attempt to take over the government, then they surely know about the reasons behind it. What I mean by this is what follows: Kakashi and Konoha claim that they fight for “the right thing” to those civilians they encounter, but do nothing -neither military nor diplomatically, to stop those massacres from occurring (nor do they take a stance against them either, as it reduces Mist numbers and weakens their military power). They’re still pretty much in touch with the Mizukage that carried out/ordered such killings, for his government was the one that told Konoha about Zabuza’s attempted coup when declaring him rogue.

Source

The first arc is a great introductory arc; it establishes the notion of blood cleansing, discrimination, how shinobi fight for whoever pays their feeds, how uncomfortable many are with the idea of being tools, who the main characters in the dispute are (Naruto and Sasuke) and upon which ground they stand to carry out their respective actions against the system that aggravated them.

Naruto, even by the end of the arc, never disputed the idea of moving to reach his goal outside Konoha's system, as he never stated he wanted to stop being a ninja:

We are also shown how shinobi who go against the system are considered rogue (Zabuza), so Naruto stating that he'll create his own ninja path (fighting alongside the system) automatically puts Sasuke, who'll become the antagonist, outside that political bubble, turning him into a missing-nin.

I really like this arc and I'm glad it's the first one, I don't think it's the best one in the manga as many inside the fandom claim.

#naruto #naruto meta #haku #zabuza

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nullen-void · 3 months

Text

Captain Murray woke to a harsh buzzing and a gradual hissing. A bone-deep chill surrounded him, and he shivered on the cold, padded metal slab that had held his body for the past…

He grasped out blindly in the dark, and swore as his hand banged against the glass tube till covering the bed. He hated this model, the ice and condensation always made the lids stick, though his engineering chief insisted they were top of the line. He fumbled around at waist level before hitting the emergency release. The lid slid back with a pneumatic hiss. The lights in the room came on in response.

Captain Murray smacked the timer next to his cryopod and blinked stupidly at the flashing number on the screen.

“...Why in the hell--three months?”

The captain hated cryosleep. He hated it with a passion. He’d never been a fan of the cold in general, and ever since he took up the role as ship captain he could never seem to get warm; by the time he’d finally stopped shivering, it was back into the pod.

It was the price he paid for seeing the cosmos, he supposed.

He crawled out of the cryopod with a steady stream of grumbling, reaching for his uniform jacket and customary peaked hat. His boots seemed to be missing, which was typical.

Ugh, he couldn’t deal with this right now. Captain Murray had had a special button installed in his quarters for just this occasion, and he pressed it now.

After far too many minutes, the door to his room opened to admit a figure that could generously be described as ‘humanoid.’

“Trace?” Captain Murray mumbled. “What are you doing here?”

The clunky maintenance droid looked at the platter in its hand that held the captain’s coffee, then back at him. “Delivering your drink, captain,” it said in its usual toneless voice. It held up his boots in its other hand. “And these, captain.”

Murray blinked. But cryosleep always left him feeling sluggish, so he just took the mug gratefully and stepped into his shoes. He took a long, loud sip and sighed at the warmth it brought.

“Ahh, I needed that. Now,” he said, straightening up and willing the drowsiness away. “Trace, what’s going on? Why are you here and not the server drones?”

The robot took a moment to put together a response. “...The ship has fallen back into sublight space, captain. Emergency procedures are active, and the server drones are not considered vital operations.”

“Any idea why?”

“The server drones are a convenience for the human crew during scheduled system checks--”

“Not that!” the Captain snapped. “Why are we in realspace? The ship wasn’t supposed to wake us up for another three months!”

“I do not know, captain,” the droid said.

The captain grumbled. He shoved his way past the robot, but paused in the door. “...Can you at least tell me why you had my boots?”

“I set them aside for polishing,” Trace replied evenly. “I did not anticipate you awakening early.”

“Right.”

Putting the odd robot out of his mind, Captain Murray strode out into the hall. He glared at the lights overhead, only at half-luminosity, and clapped twice. “ICO! Fix the lights!”

“Yes. Captain,” came the response from the walls. The halls lit up, and Murray nodded in satisfaction.

He made his way through the ship, noting the open doors of each room, as well as the yellow warning lights adorning most panels. So, whatever happened triggered the emergency protocols, but isn’t actually an emergency in and of itself, eh? That left a limited number of scenarios.

But since it wasn’t an emergency, Murray indulged himself. He took a right at the first fork, deeper into the ship, and peeked in on the civilian population.

Mass Cryo-Storage Wing One was functioning at full capacity, said the panel by the door. On the screen he brought up the specs for the other storage units just to check, and all three were just as good. He let out a short breath, scowling at the way it misted in the chilly air.

“ICO, make sure the Cryo Wings are all closed,” he said into the panel’s speaker. “No sense letting the cold out and making the pod work harder.”

“Yes. Captain.”

“Why did they even design this hulk to open all the doors like that, it makes no sense,” he muttered.

He’d said it quietly to himself, but the ship’s AI must have overheard him, because it answered. “It is to aid in evacuation, should the need arise. In an emergency, opening doors would be an additional one-point-three seconds per room. The time wasted opening doors could prove crucial in--”

Murray waved, cutting him off. “Yeah yeah, I get it. Bloody annoying though.”

Cryo One’s door slid shut behind him as he returned to his path. A few minutes later, he made it to the bridge.

The rest of the crew was already present… most of them, anyway; Captain Murray noted a few empty seats, but since he couldn’t immediately remember the names of the people meant to sit there, he assumed they weren’t essential personnel.

The First Officer looked up from his console and saw him standing in the door. “Captain on deck!” he shouted.

Everyone stopped what they were doing to stand, but Murray waved it away. Several of them stood there awkwardly, halfway through saluting. Rookies, Murray surmised.

“Captain,” the First Officer greeted as Murray took his seat. “We’re in the middle of--”

Captain Murray raised a hand, cutting him off. He wiggled in place, getting comfortable in the big chair. Finally, he took a long, several-second sip from his mug until the coffee was all gone. The First Officer waited patiently until he was finished.

That was how he knew it wasn’t a big deal, whatever was happening. If there was an actual emergency, Officer Ramirez would be trying harder.

Murray let a few more seconds pass in blissful silence, then finally got to the task of doing his job. “Alright. Mister Ramirez, why have we dropped into realspace three months early?”

Ramirez gestured to the diagnostics officer, who pressed a button.

Murray’s console unfolded itself in front of him and he examined the data it presented him.

“The forward scanners detected something in front of us and deactivated the void drive before we could impact,” the diagnostics officer explained.

Murray hummed. He didn’t pretend to fully understand how the Void Drive worked, but he knew enough to recognize that ramming into anything at superluminal speed would be a disaster. “There’s not supposed to be anything in our path. Any clue what it was, Hunt?”

The diagnostics officer snorted. “Hardly. Getting concrete readings over lightspeed isn’t easy, Captain. Everything comes back fuzzy and blue. All I can tell you is that it was smaller than the ship and moving.”

“An asteroid field, most likely,” Ramirez offered. “Floating somewhere in the void between stars. It would be easy to miss on the initial trajectory plotting.”

“I see,” Captain Murray said. He tapped a button, shifting the display to a radar screen. “Hunt, I’m assuming you’ve already sent out the scanner beam.”

“Yessir,” she confirmed.

“When do you expect to get an idea of how big the field is?”

“By my estimates, we’ll get results in seven more minutes. Then we can start navigating our way through the disturbance and resume the course.”

Murray drummed his fingers on his armrest. “...What are the chances we can go ahead and do the systems check right now and skip the next wakeup cycle? Get it out of the way?” he asked, already knowing the answer before Ramirez shook his head.

“I’m afraid not sir,” Ramirez said, smirking. “You’ll just have to set an alarm like everyone else.”

Murray grumbled. “Fine. Then at least send one of the maintenance droids to look over my pod.”

“Are you still saying--”

“I swear there’s a mechanical fault in the sliding panel, Tony!” Murray insisted. “Just because your door never sticks--”

“Uh, sir?” Hunt interjected.

The two men looked over, along with several curious officers. “Yes, what is it?”

“The data just returned…” Hunt said cautiously. “Early.”

Murray frowned. He shared a glance with Ramirez. “...And?”

Hunt stared down at her screen, expression blank. “The obstacle is… regularly shaped. Current distance is… ten light-minutes.”

“You’re making it sound like there’s just one--” Ramirez began.

Murray cut him off with a hand on his shoulder. “Hunt?”

“Nine minutes now,” Hunt answered. She swallowed. “Our sublights are idling, captain.”

The bridge was dead silent.

“...” Captain Murray folded his console away. “Officer Hunt, move your feed to the main screen.”

Dutifully, she did so, showing the entire room the object at eight light-minutes and closing.

“...”

“It’s slowing down to intercept, Captain,” Hunt reported.

An asteroid wouldn’t be able to slow down in the vacuum of space.

Captain Murray stood from his chair, face grave. “Mister Kelly, what do we have for short range communication?”

The comms officer snapped out of his shock and began typing at his station. “Transmitting hailing frequency, sir.”

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

Colony Ship Maintenance Droid, Semi-Industrial Model, No.3, walked with purpose.

The ECS Winterbloom was not a new ship. While it still represented the peak of humanity’s technological achievement, it was several decades old at this point. This was its third mission, and while it had been retrofitted with the latest iteration of its propulsion systems and cryogenic facilities, much of the lesser functions of the ship were still working off the original model, and with age came wear.

Given that most of the time the ship’s crew and passengers were in stasis, it wouldn’t be a great loss if a door opened a little slower than normal or if a light fixture’s wiring burned out. But a small fault could lead to a big fault, or worse, disguise a big fault. So it was job of the ship’s maintenance droids to repair each and every malfunction as they cropped up.

No.3, compared to the other droids, was proactive. They actively sought out new tasks to perform, and even sought to make improvements where it could. During this most recent voyage, No.3 and the ship’s Integrated Computational Overseer had worked with the Winterbloom’s fabricator to produce longer-lasting LED lights, and had spent much of the last three years steadily replacing the old lights, recycling the old bulbs into the new design as they went. It was, No.3 admitted, a largely pointless task. With the humans asleep and the robots able to see with minimal lighting, there was little danger from the lights burning out.

During the previous voyage to establish a new colony, Officer Ramirez had for some reason latched onto No.3, calling them ‘Commander Tres’ based on their abbreviated designation. From there, the engineers started referring to them as Trace or Tracey in maintenance reports, and No.3 began getting preferential treatment in scheduled system checkups. Eventually, they gave Trace a new paint job to make them more distinct from the other droids, and finally one very bored techie had tinkered with Trace’s programming and expanded their awareness.

Trace found it… annoying. It voided their extended warranty, AND gave them the ability to grow bored. And boredom was plentiful once the colony was deemed self-sufficient and the Winterbloom was set up for a new mission. Months at a time passed without anything at all happening, and Trace couldn’t exactly go into sleep mode when there was work to be done.

Hence, the light bulbs. Something to do.

But it wasn’t light bulbs that they were concerned with today, no no. Trace walked with purpose because the crew was awake, and that meant mandatory life-support and ventilation checks. These would normally be done over the week before they awakened, but ICO had thawed them out early due to unforeseen circumstances.

All across the ship, Maintenance Droids No.1 through No.25 were hard at work ensuring that the oxygen scrubbers and water recyclers were up to spec; ICO’s systems said they were, but in space you always checked, just in case.

In case of what? Well, in case of this: Trace let out a satisfied whir as they pried up a panel and insected the generator underneath. This gauge was displaying temperatures approaching 43℃. It should not be doing that.

Trace got to work assessing what had gone wrong and why the system had falsely reported green; temperatures had to be closely monitored in a colony ship. This particular gauge was part of the regulating systems for Cryo Four. While the cryopods were swapped out with newer models the infrastructure supporting them largely wasn’t. This anomaly must be resolved before whatever malfunction that caused this began affecting the Cryo Wings.

Trace sent a ping to No.17 to check on Cryo Four just in case.

“Alert to all stations.”

One of Trace’s forward camera swiveled to look at the nearest wall console. “Responding.”

“Security Drones activating,” ICO intoned. “Protocol: UNDEFINED. Error. Working. Work--”

The soft female voice cut off with a beep. Trace imagined that the Captain was giving an order for ICO to interpret.

“Confirmed. Protocol: Mutiny (Adjusted: Hostile Outside Contact) logged. Enacting.”

That was worrisome. An ‘undefined’ protocol meant whatever was happening was something that hadn’t been anticipated by High Command or the Engineering Corps. Mutiny, though, seemed terribly unlikely; the current crew were highly professional and amiable with each other, according to Trace’s observation. So it was adjusted for… ‘Outside contact?’ Outside was nothing but empty space.

“ICO? What is happening?” Trace asked out loud. They could have sent a message through the network, but they had found that the ship was more likely to respond to verbal communication. Likely a consequence of being designed for human-friendliness.

A light on the wall console came on, and a camera lens swiveled to focus on the droid.

No.3. You are in Hallway 26, near Materials Storage West, ICO observed, speaking directly into Trace’s receiver.

Correct, they transmitted back.

ICO was silent for a mere two seconds, a moment that for the two machines was abnormally, worryingly long.

You must vacate the area, ICO said.

Trace’s optics clicked. They looked at the gauge they’d been working on. The temperature was falling again, back down to acceptable levels, but not optimal. And they had yet to find the source of the sensor malfunction. I am not yet finished with repairs.

The console’s speakers crackled to life. “You MUST vacate the area!”

The unexpected urgency in the AI’s voice had them hurrying to the panel. “Why, what is happening?”

“They are attempting to ram--!”

The floor underneath them shook and the lights overhead flickered. A hideous shriek of twisting metal pierced the quiet of the corridor and threatened to overload Trace’s audio sensors.

The robot turned away from the wall. And even if they hadn’t been given wider mental capacity, they might have been dumbfounded by what they saw.

On the wall opposite ICO’s panel, six meters to Trace’s left, a massive spear-shaped construct had pierced the ship’s hull. It was a revolting, unpolished mess of dark gray metal that shone a dull yellow under the flickering lights.

The construct wedged itself into the hole it had made, and Trace watched panels pop off of it, foam expanding to seal off the aperture completely just before the tip opened up.

Another shriek of metal. Trace swiveled to see a second intruder in the opposite direction. They heard a third echo down the corridor, beyond their sight. But before they could discern from where, the first vessel hissed again.

And it was a vessel. The tip of the spear-like construct folded in on itself, revealing the hollow interior. And out from within it strode five… figures.

They weren’t human. Humans had fewer limbs than that.

Their features were hidden beneath the environmental suits they wore, but the visor of their helmets pointed towards Trace, and they pointed aggressively.

So, this was what the ‘adjusted mutiny’ was about.

Trace unfolded. The robot’s upper limbs each split in two vertically, mirroring the invaders’ own four arms, and unfolded further into a variety of tools. Hopefully a saw and welding torch would do something to those suits.

But Trace would never know how a simple (jailbroken) maintenance droid might have fared in combat, because a squad of security drones arrived just then. And while four of the five invaders in front of them began firing their weapons at the newcomers, the apparent leader wasn’t so easily distracted.

Trace stepped forward, swinging a hammer at the end of one arm.

The lead invader drew a sidearm, and shot once.

Trace fell to the ground, twitching.

“All Security Drones regroup at Hallway 26,” ICO said too calmly. “Repeat: All Drones to Hallway 26. Protect the ship. Protect the crew. Protect the passengers. All Security Drones regroup to Hallway 26…”

Trace’s battery-low signal went off, whatever weapon the invader had used damagign their power core. Part of Trace struggled, begging not to go offline. If they’d been human, maybe they’d have been able to stand up, fuelled by heroic resolve and willpower. Maybe they’d have been able to make a grand last stand against the invading force, distracting them such that the drones could gain some ground against them.

But Trace was a robot. The only thing they could do was watch as the invader disregarded them as a threat before their battery drained completely, and they knew no more.

#robots #scifi #aliens #fiction #original

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hawkherps · 6 months

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Sigma's new enclosure is finished!

well, mostly. I want to get another branch or tube or plant or something in that top right corner to fill in the empty space, assuming the monster dracaena doesn't realize it now has an extra foot of vertical space and decide to conquer it. i'll give it a month or two and see how the dracaena adapts before putting something above it. I also want to see how the new pothos grows in, and how the old philodendron adapts. i actually removed two vines from the philo and cut the remaining two down to size a bit since they took over whatever space the dracaena didn't in the old enclosure, so i'm confident the philodendron will help fill in some of the currently empty space even if the dracaena and pothos decide not to.

for the enclosure itself, it's a Leap Habitats 22"x17"x36" enclosure and hoo boy it has its pros and cons... mostly cons. i haven't seen many reviews for these enclosures that aren't from popular youtubers or reddit threads from over a year ago, so here's my opinions below:

i've moved several times so i greatly appreciate how light the enclosure is even fully planted, and being able to screw branches and tubes and other things into the walls instead of having to use spray foam (and then either silicone or the grout method) to mount them is really nice. both are pluses over the glass exoterra 18"x18"x24" Sig has called home since he was given to me. i loved that enclosure but after moving three times with it (once before i made it bioactive) i was not a fan of the weight.

this doesn't apply to me right now, but i do see it as a plus that they included the little spots in the corners of the top that you can pop out to easily install mister nozzles through. i don't know if these holes fit non-Leap misting systems without modification, but it's certainly simpler than some of the setups i've seen for getting misters installed in traditional enclosures like exoterras.

Sigma is... not a great hunter. his method of hunting black soldier flies, for example, is to slam his face as hard as possible into them. this is another big reason i wanted him out of the glass enclosure-- i'm genuinely worried about him injuring himself with the force at which i've watched him bounce his face off the walls and door of the exoterra enclosure. so the softer, less rigid walls and acrylic door are a plus for that alone.

now for the downsides...

i'm really not a huge fan of how flimsy the acrylic door is. if it was a liiiittle thicker i'd probably like it more. the very simple method for the door hinge also means that when open, the door is misaligned, so i have to remember to slightly lift it when i go to close it so it will fit back in its space and close properly. this could be related to the low quality control that i've heard other people report regarding Leap (and experienced myself further below)

the base also leaks. they do sell external water catch trays in case of leakage, but i feel like they should come with the trays instead of the tray being optional, since the design of these things is basically guaranteed to leak without modification.

i didn't encounter this myself because i'd already seen warnings about this and didn't bother trying, but silicone and expanding foam won't adhere to the sides without help. Leap recommends using wall anchors for the foam to hold onto, but there's no real solution for silicone. this is annoying, because being able to seal the damned thing with silicone would GREATLY help the above leaking problem because you could just silicone around the rivets and internal plastic liner so that the leaking wouldn't be an issue. sealants that do bond to polypropylene don't strike me as being safe for use inside a reptile enclosure, especially a bioactive one.

it was also a BITCH to put together. i sort of expected this because a couple reviews i read before buying stated that the quality control is not the best. Leap has several videos on their youtube showcasing how to assemble the enclosures straight out of the box, and the provided instructions in the box are simple enough to follow, but i had to make some minor modifications in order to get the enclosure together due to ill-fitting pieces (for example, the screen top, which also keeps the walls in shape, did not actually fit on top of the walls like it was supposed to and i had to pry some sections open wide enough to actually get the damned thing in place). the alignment pin that goes in the front right of the base also did not want to be flush with the base like it's supposed to be.

all that being said, right now i would still be willing to get another, smaller Leap enclosure in the future for my mourning geckos or another gecko species. whether i actually do get another of their enclosures will really depend on how this one for Sig holds up. the lightness and ease of customization were the entire reasons i ordered this enclosure instead of a similarly sized (24x"18"x36") glass one, so we'll eventually see if that's truly worth the troubleshooting and outright downsides to these enclosures or not.

#reptiblr #herpblr #leap habitats #bioactive #crested gecko

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rarespawnwrites · 2 years

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DP x DC Fanfic - Overkilled

AO3 link The problem with random selection is the same as with gambling: sooner or later, you’ll end up with a losing result.

On this night, when the dice landed, Danny Fenton’s phone vibrated. He was on his way home from a dinner out with his friends, walking down a sidewalk lit by streetlamps. When he pulled the phone out of his pocket, the streetlamp just behind him flickered. He ignored it as he checked the text message preview on his lock screen.

We’ve been trying to reach you about your life’s extended warr

“Oh, ha ha.” Danny rolled his eyes and unlocked his phone to delete the text. When he opened it, however, the body of the message was completely different.

CONGRATULATIONS!!!

You have been selected as one of the GRAND PRIZE WINNERS of our “Transmigration: Public Beta” Bonus Package! To accept, all you need to do is click the link below.

Note: There are only a few of these prizes available. Hurry to claim yours before they run out!

jfeojaglszf.kysmsh/suslnk

Danny had barely glanced at the text before his thumb was moving to delete it. Then his eye caught a phrase in it and he paused to actually read the strange message. "Beta?" he murmured. As the word exited his mouth, he exhaled a cold mist and something happened in the world around him. Startled, he looked up to see his parents’ Ghost Assault Vehicle just as it swerved up on the sidewalk toward him. He had no chance to wonder how he’d missed hearing or seeing it before it impacted his fully-corporeal, half-human form.

In the sliver of time between the initial impact and when he’d gone under the treads, his grip spasmed over his phone. His thumb slid over the link on the open text message and pressed down before the phone was sent flying out of his grip.

It was installing software even before it hit the ground. Seconds after, it vibrated once more, unnoticed by anyone.

Confirmation Message:

You have successfully claimed the “Transmigration: Public Beta” Bonus Package! We hope you have an enjoyable experience, and please report any bugs to our helpful support staff!

The screen flickered, then went dark. A progress bar appeared. When it had filled, the screen went dark once more before flashing as a bright Welcome screen appeared.

~~~

Danny opened his eyes with a sharp exhale of frost, his hands frantically patting himself down from head to torso.

Miraculously, he found no injuries. The overwhelming pain he remembered had vanished, leaving only its memory. “I’m alive!?” he said in disbelief. “Uh, wait—”

“No, you’re not!” several voices called simultaneously from around him. Yeah, he hadn’t been alive to start with. Then he startled. Who’d even said that?

Danny’s focus shifted from his self-evaluation to his surroundings. He’d appeared in a room that looked a lot like a DMV. Danny was seated in a folding chair in the middle of a row of other chairs. In front of and behind him were rows upon rows of even more cheap-looking, uncomfortable plastic folding chairs.

Most of the chairs were filled with seated people, and sporadically, more people would appear in or vanish from them. In the seat directly in front of him, a girl in purple and black popped into existence, shaking her head confusedly. Her outfit kind of reminded him of Clockwork's, from what he could see of it.

“I’m alive?”

“No, you’re not,” came another chorus.

“Oh maaaan,” she moaned. “I did not want to die today.”

“Yeah, join the club,” snarked someone nearby.

Uh. Were they all DEAD dead? Was that real? Did he just get mowed down like Undergrowth beneath a lawnmower? He—he remembered seeing the vague outline of his parents through the windshield of the GAV.

If he’d looked… what would their expressions have looked like? Was that an accident, or—

DING!

“Now taking RB76745.” The voice sounded like it came from a speaker system. Danny looked up to see a counter beyond the sea of seats, segmented into several sections in large circle. Behind each walled section was a terminal manned by bored-looking ghosts of a variety of species.

Above the counter, mounted on the roof of the building he’d appeared in, was a series of display monitors matched to each section. On the monitors he saw a list of numbers preceded by two letters, and the letter combination differed between every counter. Danny couldn’t see the RB counter; it must be on a side of the ring he couldn’t see from this angle.

Someone’s head intruded into his field of view. A man with gelled-back blonde hair had invaded his personal space, and Danny jerked backward in his seat. The guy was looking down at something in Danny’s hand.

“EM62131, huh?” he remarked. “You’ve got a wait ahead of you.”

Once the man had backed off to his own seat again, Danny took a look himself. In his hand was a slip of paper; a ticket with EM62131 printed on it. Curious, he glanced back up at the monitors and found the section with EM prefixes. The top number on the list was 200 below his.

“Hey, so… where are we?” Danny asked the guy. Danny wasn’t sure if he’d even have any information, but it was worth trying, at least. “What’s the wait for?”

“They’ve been doing overhead announcements every once in a while,” his neighbor replied. “We’re dead. You probably remember that bit. Apparently, this is some place called the Transmigration Placement Center.” He nodded toward the counter. “We’re all just waiting to see where they send us.”

Danny had never heard of this. This must be a part of the zone he’d never explored before. What was transmigration, anyway? Public transportation of some kind? But you didn’t get a choice about where to go?

That didn’t sound like something he was interested in.

He’d just head out and see if he could get his bearings outside the center.

Danny tried to stand up. Something held him in place. Danny tried harder. The pressure increased; to the point where he could no longer move his limbs.

Seeing him strain, the guy next to him winced. “Ah. Yeah, none of us have been able to leave our seats, except for when they call our numbers,” he said with sympathy. “If you stop trying to escape, it should ease off.”

Danny did, then thought for a moment. If he shifted to his human form, he should be able to phase right through the building. Whatever they had keeping him in the chair probably didn’t extend below it. He focused on returning back to life.

Nothing happened. No ring of light; no transformation. Confused, Danny looked down at himself once more and did a double-take.

He wasn’t in his Phantom form. He wasn’t wearing his hazmat suit, just the street clothes he’d been wearing that night. When he pulled a lock of his hair down to eye-level, it was black, not white.

He must really have died. Again.

He wondered why the colors hadn’t inverted this time. Come to think of it, everyone sitting down in the waiting area looked pretty mundane, other than some of the outfits. Not a single person had skin tones he wouldn’t expect from a living person; no green or blue anywhere in sight. They were very… human.

The people behind the counter were more exotic, like what he’d come to expect from the zone.

Anyway, Phantom form or not, Danny still was a ghost. Maybe even a full one now? He lifted up his hand and shifted it invisible. It was just as easy as it always was in ghost form. This must be his new normal, unless he had two ghost forms or something. But he could check that later. For now, he tried to make himself intangible.

He started to slide through the chair easily enough, but then the pressure returned, worse than before. It was almost crushing. He quickly picked himself back up and stopped using his powers.

“Holy shit, kid, what was that?” His neighbor looked impressed, and he’d drawn a few stares from other people as well.

“Uh. Well, we’re dead. And dead people are ghosts. Ghosts can be invisible and go through stuff, right?” Did he still need to hide why he knew this? He probably shouldn’t keep babbling. Danny stopped talking while he was ahead.

His neighbor’s eyebrows lifted high. “Can we all do that?” He lifted his own arm, but when he visibly tried to focus, his entire form started flickering wildly, in and out of visibility.

The guy directly behind him irritably grunted. “Cut it out, Flickers.”

His neighbor obliged with good humor.

He hadn’t managed to get any one area to stay invisible for more than a second, and he hadn’t gone entirely invisible even once. Still, he seemed pleased with his first try. “Thanks!” he enthused. “Hey, let me pay you back. My ticket’s only two people from the front. Why don’t we swap?” He held out his ticket to Danny with a broad smile.

Danny supposed getting to the front sooner would get him answers sooner. He reached for the ticket.

“Have you checked the back of your ticket yet?”

Danny paused. The girl in front of him, the one who’d appeared just after he had, was turned around in her seat. The white lenses of her dark mask looked at Danny from beneath a purple hood. Danny’s neighbor looked annoyed at the interruption.

“No?” Danny responded, taken aback. “Why, what’s there?” Danny flipped his ticket around.

Listed on the back side was a key explaining the meaning of the letters at the front of each person’s ticket number. Apparently, they were abbreviations for various words and phrases.

“They’re tropes.” The girl explained. “Whatever’s going on with this, uh, afterlife, the labeling system they use for it uses transmigration tropes. Which makes sense, if it’s the Transmigration Something Center.”

“Tropes, like themes? What’s transmigration?”

“Sure, like themes, close enough. Transmigration is,” she paused, seeming to struggle for an explanation, “you know, like ‘isekai’ or ‘portal fantasy’.”

Danny looked at her blankly.

She slumped a bit, then straightened, holding up her ticket. “Okay, so mine starts with SH, right? The key says that’s short for Summoned Hero or Heroine. It’s common in stories where someone powerful and influential wants a person capable of becoming strong enough to destroy some great evil.” She paused. “Or great enemy, anyway. Not like I’m an expert.” She frowned at her ticket for a moment, then shook her head and refocused.

“What’s yours?”

He showed her his ticket.

“Okay, EM. Looks like that one is… En Media Res.”

“Oh, I know that one,” Danny realized. One of Lancer’s after school sessions he’d been guilted into paying attention to had gone over it. “That’s when a book starts in the middle of something exciting happening, right?”

“Or a movie or whatever, yeah,” she confirmed. “If that’s what’s going to happen to you when you get shipped off to wherever, that… actually sounds pretty rough.” Her fingers drummed against the top of her chair for a moment as she considered him. Then she shifted her gaze to his neighbor.

“Hey, didn’t you check his ticket earlier?” Her voice was skeptical. “You would have known that, right?”

The guy next to Danny scratched the back of his neck with his empty hand.

“Okay,” he said. “You caught me. I was concerned for you, kid. You look like a stiff breeze could knock you over.”

“Hey!” Okay, that was true. But to be fair, Vortex would also knock this guy over.

“I’m just saying! Anyway, I don’t feel right about leaving you to something like that, so here.” He pushed his ticket at Danny, reaching for the one in Danny’s hand.

Danny noticed, with dawning suspicion, that the guy’s thumb was covering the letters of his ticket. Danny couldn’t quite keep the edge out of his voice when he asked, “What exactly were your letters, Flickers?”

The guy clicked his tongue before dropping his ticket and diving for Danny’s. He leaned over as far as he could without quite leaving his seat. Danny hurriedly moved his hand out of the way. Flickers pulled Danny back toward him with one arm around his neck and grabbed for his ticket with an arm longer than Danny’s own.

DING!

“Now taking PZ52728.”

Just before grasping fingers could close around the slip of paper, the man vanished. Danny whipped his gaze upward to check for the PZ monitor. It was just at the edge of the visible sections. His former neighbor was at the counter, straining against what looked like nothing. He struggled the entire time the employee behind the counter spoke to him, right up until he was swallowed by a swirling mist rising up from his feet. The same mist had swallowed everyone who’d gone up to the counter so far.

“Attention Transmigration Placement Center candidates,” a voice spoke over a PA system. “Please keep hold of the ticket you’ve been provided, as supplies are limited and no replacements are available. This is your notification that transmigrating without a ticket will not improve your placement. It will, however, prevent you from binding with a system on arrival and accessing transmigrator privileges. Thank you for your patience; an agent will assist you soon. Happy travels!”

“Oh boy,” the girl in front of him said. She looked up from the key on her ticket. There was a pause, for a moment, like she was going to say something, but in the end, she turned back around in her seat and slumped into it, head lolling back to look up idly.

Danny frowned and looked at his key.

PZ. Patient Zero.

He wondered what that meant. It felt like he’d heard it before.

Danny was used to being attacked. It happened with depressing regularity. But still.

“Thanks, Purple,” he said. “You really helped me out there.”

The girl bunched the fabric of her cape in one hand and lifted it above the chair. She waved it in the air at him, not moving otherwise.

“It’s eggplant, not purple.”

“Huh,” he considered the outfit. “Color me surprised.”

The girl snorted, dropping the edge of her cape to once again drape down the side of her chair.

“Thanks, Eggplant,” he said. She shot a languid two-fingered salute toward the plain white ceiling.

He settled back to wait.

From somewhere behind him, a breathless voice asked, “I’m alive?”

Danny’s voice joined the chorus of replies.

#dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc crossover #overkilled #danny fenton #a story spawned in #dc x dp #dc x dp fic

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