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shu-box-puns · 1 year ago

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I never would have given you to them; not for anything

(Tsu’tey x Reader)

Part 1 -> Next Chapter

If you prefer to read on Ao3, you can find the fic here!

Summary: The RDA unknowingly revives a traitor through Project Phoenix.

Word Count: 11,251

Reader uses they/them pronouns.

NOTE: The term 'Zaza' is a gender neutral way to address a parental figure.

Connecting to the Tree of Souls was always bittersweet for Tsu'tey.

Eywa was a kind mother. For a few short moments, he could be reunited with everyone he had previously lost. He could ask Eytukan for guidance on being Olo’eyktan, or speak with Sylwanin when his grief threatened to overwhelm him.

And other times, Eywa would gift him a glimpse into a vision that could’ve been his reality, if events had played out differently.

The phantom of HomeTree was booming with life. Those who lived there were distant and concealed from view by the colossal roots of the great tree or simply occupying the foliage beyond its shade. Tsu’tey found himself sitting upon a log, his knife in hand which he was using to shape an arrow head.

A fire roared at his feet, meat cooking over the flames whilst the joyous yells of children darted to and fro behind his turned back. He couldn’t help but smile softly to himself, reminded of the early years in Spider’s development when the boy had finally grown large enough to comfortably fit into an exo pack. Tsu’tey had been delighted, eager to take his son from the confines of the demon compound and let him loose on the clan.

Spider took to the outside like an ikran to the sky. Staring in wonder as Tsu’tey carried him into the heart of the village. Na’vi of all stations had cooed at him, offering Tsu’tey honest congratulations even if their eyes had held poorly concealed hesitance at the toddler giggling against his chest.

Within the hour, Spider had become fast friends with Jake’s children - Eywa help him - and was gleefully dirtying his loincloth as they tumbled and played.

“He has grown significantly.” A voice to his left suddenly commented, ripping Tsu’tey from his private musings. He made to turn to whoever was sat with him, but some untold force kept his gaze glued to the arrowhead he was carving.

“Children tend to.” Tsu’tey responded easily, the English falling thick and accented off of his tongue.

His secret companion merely hummed, leaning into his side. Tsu’tey caught sight of blue skin in his peripheral. Five fingered hands falling to demon style clothed knees. His expression tightened. Confusion swirling beneath his skin.

“A mighty warrior in the making.” The stranger praised, undercurrents of pride lacing their tone. “I am glad his aim has greatly improved.”

Tsu’tey lifted his gaze from the arrowhead as the words registered. His questioning response was halted by the sudden absence of the clan chatter and the crackling of the flames at his feet. His eyes flickered, expressing softening as he realised the scenery had changed.

Now, he and his companion sat on a tree branch overlooking the Omaticaya flight range. Targets lined the far perimeter, whilst na’vi of all ages stood in uniformed rows at increasing distances from the targets, their bows drawn. Tsu’tey’s gaze immediately zeroed in on Spider.

Here he was about twelve, Neteyam alongside him as the two practised in companionable silence. Despite being a full year younger, Neteyam easily towered over the older boy, his frame lean and long, whilst Spider had grown strong and thick in the shoulders. His son held his bow with ease, the strain long having lessened with hours of practice.

The presence at his side had shrunk somehow. The warmth no longer reached his shoulder. A soft brush of skin to his lower bicep indicating that the na’vi who had sat with him had shrunk to a more human stature.

Tsu’tey could not place who this was. They did not sound like Grace Augustine who possessed both avatar and human forms on the off chance she visited him in the tree. Nor had he befriended any of the scientists who possessed avatar bodies.

A celebratory whoop drew his attention back to Spider, who was receiving awed high fives from Neteyam. Glancing to the target, Tsu’tey swelled with pride at the three perfect bullseyes.

He blinked, and he was in the old shack. Although in his present the stolen compound was overrun with wildlife and had fallen into disrepair, here, it looked well preserved. As fresh and disorganised as it had been the night the humans left for good.

It looked homely.

Lived in.

He was sitting on a bunk much too small for his large frame with a baby carrier strapped across his chest. His son was nowhere to be seen in this particular vision, but as always, he felt no sense of panic within Eywa’s care. He simply observed the small room around him, noting that the presence at his side had disappeared with the flight range.

The messy sheets he sat on told of a good night’s rest. The military boots neatly lined up by the door and the camouflage jacket hanging on the back of it, reassuring him that whoever he was visiting was close by.

Tucked under the window, the desk was a mess of coffee stained reports and various pens. Even from the other side of the room, he could make out the shakily written na’vi phrases repeated over several pages. He’d never seen his language written out before, since his people had no use for it, but somehow he instinctively knew the phrases.

Oel ngati kameie.

I see you.

Three words his mate had been practising behind his back. A secret he was very much aware of, but content to allow them to figure out.

The sound of the door opening drew his attention from the desk, and he found said mate looming in the doorway, their son cradled to their chest. They looked exhausted but proud of themselves. Spider was sound asleep, nestled into their tanktop, with one chubby fist clenched tightly around the courting necklace Tsu’tey had presented them with several moons ago.

“I finally got him to drop off.” His mate sighed happily as they stepped further into the room and quietly pulled the door closed behind them.

Tsu’tey could only hum. Greedily drinking in the sight of his mate and son. Gazing at the face that had been snatched from his too early, and the youth and innocence of Spider. He was sixteen now, years past infancy, but still Tsu’tey’s little boy. Whilst his mate was frozen in time. Forever held by Eywa.

“You good big guy?” The use of that ridiculous nickname snapped him back to the present. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

His lips stretched into a tight smile. The irony.

“I am fine.” He insisted. His english heavily accented and rusty from disuse. Since Spider had become fully fluent in na’vi, he hardly ever had to use the demon tongue. But somehow, Eywa always switched them back to that language, despite having learnt plenty of na’vi through him.

Their proud grin dropped a fraction, their eyebrows drawing together. “Are you lying to me?”

He scoffed. “Olo’eyktan’s do not lie.” He said simply.

“You aren’t Olo’eyktan here.” They argued. Approaching him on quiet feet.

Feeling called out, Tsu’tey had to work hard to keep his ears from flicking back in guilt. Instead, he chose not to respond as his mate stepped into his space. Their scent wafted over him as they expertly manoeuvred the slumbering infant into the net tied across Tsu’tey’s chest. The motion was practised; familiar in a way his mate hadn’t had time to master.

Spider went easily. Instinctively curling into his father’s warmth and finding something new to latch onto. This time, Tsu’tey was not fast enough to keep his son from grabbing onto one of his braids. Even in sleep, Spider yanked hard on the braided lock of hair, making Tsu’tey wince. His mate chuckled softly, reaching up to carefully untangle Spider’s fist, to which the infant immediately curled his fingers around their index instead.

The scene was domestic. Something he had mourned when his mate had passed.

“You look tired.” His mate stated, those eyes studying his expression.

Tsu’tey could only nod. What use was lying to a memory anyway?

“I am.”

“You should rest.”

They titled their head, and Tsu’tey knew this was a battle he had no hope of winning. “Spider is waiting for you.” They said.

Carefully, they raised their free hand to hold his cheek, their expression worried. He leaned into the touch, savouring the warmth of their tiny hand against his cool skin.

His words were slow to come back to him. But they waited patiently, idly tracing the stars of his freckles as he gathered himself, his breathing uneven. “No. I want to stay here, with you.”

There was a power behind their words now. A greater knowledge they should not be privy to. Tsu’tey knew this wasn’t his mate speaking to him anymore. Despite looking and sounding like his human, this was Eywa gently nudging him. Reminding him that he had responsibilities to attend to and a son waiting beyond her realm.

He followed his mate’s nod towards the window where he found a sixteen year old Spider standing patiently at the treeline, looking longingly towards the compound. He knew without looking down that the infant was gone from the sling at his chest. His son wore his exopack and was wringing his hands, head darting too and fro in search of someone. Rocking on the balls of his feet as often did when unsettled.

Tearing his gaze from his son, Tsu’tey found and held eye contact with the Great Mother disguised as his lost mate. “Will you allow him to visit today?” He asked.

“He will See soon.” Eywa replied in their voice, untold power building behind every word.

His mate’s hands were small but strong as they took him by the wrists and helped him rise from his seat on the bed. “He is waiting.” They informed him, gently guiding him away from the desk littered in papers and towards the closed door. Tsu’tey’s heart ached at the familiar gesture. This part was always the hardest.

“He misses them.” He told Eywa and she could only nod in acknowledgement. “He watches their video logs.” He insisted, stomach sinking at the thought of his mate not knowing how badly Spider loved and missed them. That they might believe they had faded from the child’s memory, when in truth they’d always played such a crucial role. “He asks about them, always. Demanding memories, facts. Anything.”

“He will See soon.” Eywa repeated, and Tsu’tey knew she understood.

They squeezed his hand and he realised he was standing before the door with the boots neatly lined up beside it. He glanced at them one last time, absorbing all their little details and committing them to memory. His mate smiled at him one last time, before they dropped his hands and stepped back.

“I know.”

“You will See soon.” Eywa assured him, but Tsu’tey was no Tsahik and did not understand how to interpret the phrase. So he simply nodded.

>_<

They said no more as he raised his hand to push the door open, and in kind, Tsu’tey could only nod as his words got lost in his throat. Instead of responding, he turned and stepped out of the bedroom into the hall.

The sounds of the forest came back to him slowly. He felt the change of the humidity as Eywa gently returned him to his body. He sat crossed legged under the glowing vines of the Tree of Souls, his heartbeat still pounding in time to the gentle pulses of the ancient tree. Animals moved in the bushes behind him, uncaring of his presence and content to go about their evening.

He felt the familiar dry, flaky sensation of mourning paint running from the top of his brow down the line of his nose to his chin. His bullet scars felt stiff against his skin with every deep breath. Whilst a body leant into his side. Small and warm in a way that na’vi were not.

Slowly, Tsu’tey peeled his eyelids open and glanced down to find Spider curled into him. His exopack was digging uncomfortably into Tsu’tey’s ribs, but he didn’t care. Now sixteen, his boy leaned into his side and had dragged Tsu’tey’s arm out of his lap to rest across his back. Keeping him safe and secure whilst his father communed with the ancestors.

His tail swayed happily at the adorable sight.

Sensing a shift in him, Spider groggily raised his head from Tsu’tey’s rib cage. His eyes were unfocused as he lifted his heavy head, only to find Tsu’tey already looking at him. He blinked slowly, drawing in a deep breath as he stretched and sat up.

<”Who was it today?”> Spider asked in fluent na’vi, his tone heavy with sleep.

Tsu’tey felt the corner of his mouth stretch upwards into an adoring smile. His boy was so precious. <”Zaza.”> He replied simply, to which Spider returned his smile.

<”It is late.”> Spider agreed, to which Tsu’tey playfully ruffled his braids, ears pricked at the boy’s mischievous grin. Carefully, Tsu’tey reached up and disconnected his kuru from the tree, sending a prayer of thanks to Eywa for her gift.

<”And where did you end up going?”>

<”The old shack.”> Tsu’tey replied simply, reaching up to disconnect his tswin from the Tree of Souls. <”They were trying to convince you to go to bed.”>

<”We should return to the village.”>

<”Only if you carry me.”> Spider stated, lifting his arms expectantly to Tsu’tey who rolled his eyes.

<”You have been hanging around Lo’ak too much. So whiny.”>

<”You are old enough to carry yourself.”>

<”But it’s late!”> Spider retaliated.

<”Don’t let him hear you say that or he’ll become ten times worse.”> Considering the boy was Jake’s son, Tsu’tey didn’t doubt it.

>_<

The last thing you remembered was lying down in a link unit.

The smell of silicone had been poisonously strong in the tight space as one of the scientists closed the lid on you with a firm click. Your heart had been pounding, your plan to escape and meet up with Jake plaguing your mind. Distracting you from the half assed explanation of why Selfridge had ordered all military personnel into the link rooms.

You weren’t sure if you made it out of Hell’s Gate that night, let alone if Trudy had managed to drive you to the secret compound. If you’d been caught, or if your squad had noticed your absence.

Not that any of it mattered now, considering you were in outer space and the Battle for The Tree of Souls had ended fifteen years prior.

Now, you stared blankly at the pre-recorded video of yourself in that same laboratory. In the video, you were decked out in your usual, military attire and were horribly explaining what was going on. Floating in zero gravity, your hand - now blue and much, MUCH bigger than you were used to - kept you in place before the monitor with an unnervingly tight grip.

The you of the past wasn’t focused on their task. You could tell from the shift of their eyes as marines moved around them behind the camera. In a similar situation, your nerves were also all over the place. Your eyes were constantly darting around the small bunk room as your tail thrashed. So many enemies in such a small place.

It had been a fucking shock to wake up disoriented on a small hospital bed with a heart monitor beeping away in the background. Only for a massive, blue forehead to dart into your line of sight, dragging with it, a pair of large, unblinking eyes. You screamed, flailing weakly at the enormous bald head of Lyle Wainfleet.

You recalled blinding rage in your most recent memory of this man.

He had grinned at you, yelling loudly, “morning Private!”

You had punched him, that past anger carrying over as you shoved him away with an additional well placed kick to the stomach and a ferocious hiss. Movement in the corner of your vision kept you from following him down, intending to choke the life out of his stupid, grinning face.

Alexander had been quick to grip your bicep, holding on tightly. He was smiling at you. And it was fucking disorientating to see his face on a na’vi body, his eyes too far apart and his nose flatter than you were used to. It stunned you into stillness.

On the floor, Lyle had chuckled good naturedly and complimented you on your improved strength.

You hadn’t responded, your eyes widening as you took in your reflection in the one way window. It was you, but it also wasn’t you staring back.

On the monitor, the human version of you scratched the back of their neck, clearly reading off of a script to the side of the camera, blurting some bullshit about the RDA storing your memories and implanting them in an avatar embryo. Your expression remained neutral as you glanced down to past-you’s throat.

Mostly hidden beneath the hem of their camouflage shirt, you caught sight of a pretty little choker, the polished beads catching the laboratory lights. It was simple in design, layered three times tall with long, brown beads as the centrepiece, framed either side by carefully selected circular red beads.

Subconsciously, your blue hand reached to your own throat, frowning at the naked skin only for your fingers to catch on the metal chain of your dog tag. It sent a stab of phantom pain through your chest, which you were quick to rub away.

You remembered who had given it to you. What he had been to you. But you didn’t know how it had ended. If the RDA had resurrected you for this stupid little project, then chances were, the human version of you was dead.

You had no idea who had died during the Battle of The Tree of Souls - clearly a lot of you judging by the number of recoms the RDA had paid for. There was no solid knowledge on how far the RDA had won, or how much of Pandora they had destroyed. For all you knew, everyone could be dead. The Omaticaya clan wiped off the face of the planet.

The windows of your little bunk room overlooked the vast embryo tanks of the recoms. As you half-listened to the video, you watched a trio of three scientists carefully extracting the body, of who you recognised to be the na’vi version of Mansk, from the closest tank. They took great care in cleaning the embryonic fluid from his airways before flying the body out of sight through an open door.

/Remember Private,/ the video stated, drawing your attention back once more, /the mission is not over./ There was something unreadable in human you’s eyes, their rage momentarily broadcasted across the screen. /Fight hard. Make me proud./

They couldn’t see you, but you found yourself nodding anyway.

Those words gave you a direction. Past you didn’t believe the fight was over, so you just had to pick up where you left off. And to do that, you needed to get back into the forest.

>_<

The RDA had made special uniforms for all the recoms and required you to be dressed and ready to move into the base upon landing. Their first mistake was willingly handling you a gun. Evidently, they had never recognised you as a traitor. You’d died with them still believing you were loyal. Now, you would exploit that weakness.

For now, you decided to play nice until they willingly unleashed you into the forest. You made jokes with Lyle, established yourself as one of the team. Laughing with the other recoms about escaping death, making wild accusations about what you’d do the next time you saw that traitor; Jake Sully.

It was easy. As it always had been.

As if nothing had changed. Like you were back in school and you’d all come back from the summer having had growth spurts and been up to god knows what.

As a squad, you fitted together effortlessly. Falling into a routine of sleeping in the dorms, getting up early for drills and training, only to spend the evenings goofing around. The recom bodies were years younger, practically brand new, so the energy required for such shenanigans was effortless.

Within a week, it felt like nothing had changed. The squad was blissfully unaware of what you had done in your past life behind their backs. To them, you were still their comrade.

Initially, you’d attempted to keep your distance.

The forest called to you. It’s pull even stronger now with the additional na’vi instincts, and the small hallways of Bridgehead that were clearly not built with you in mind. You felt out of place in its tiny, box-like layout.

Your comrades weren’t too sneaky in trying to ease your nerves and welcome you into their chaotic escapades.

Lyle had always been an overbearing extrovert, chomping at the bit to challenge you into pushing yourself harder and harder during drills.

Mansk, in his own quiet way, insisted on dragging you to the kitchen every mealtime to assist him with cooking. He stated that he had no idea what to do with the new Pandoran ingredients required for their recom bodies, but you could tell he was bullshitting you to keep you out of your head. It worked; mostly.

Whilst Z-Dog had taken it upon herself to make sure your shooting skills were up to scratch - they were. And had sparked many competitions out in the shooting range.

Even the colonel seemed to have caught on. And that man was in no form of the imagination a family man. He was a leader. Your boss. The man you had to impress or risk getting killed. But recently, he’s been acting like some weird version of a father figure. Offering silent nods and backhanded compliments in his usual condescending tone whilst observing your training with your comrades. It would always be paired with a playful smack to the shoulder or a rough ruffle of your hair whilst the squad sniggered.

It was easy to remember why you’d stuck with them for so long. Because despite their missions and the people they killed, they had been your family on Pandora since you’d woken up from cryo sleep. A reluctant one. A ragtag bunch of trigger happy idiots, but they’d always watched out for you.

You also knew that they would kill you if they ever found out about your little personal mission. They made you feel safe within Bridgehead, but you knew they would turn on you instantly.

Lyle wouldn’t hesitate to cuff you and drag you to the colonel. Whilst Quaritch would go real quiet, ordering you to hand over your gun which he would use to shoot you on the spot. Z-Dog would make it look like an accident, whilst Mansk would hide behind his sunglasses and deal with business himself, stealing your dog tags to take back to the colonel.

It was imperative you remained vigilant. If anyone remembered or found out, you were fucked. So you had to get out. Fast. At the first opportunity. You could figure it out from there.

>_<

The moment the samson chopper landed in the undergrowth of the rainforest, you leapt out. Lyle was hot on your tail, peeling away from your side to secure the perimeter as the helicopter finished landing.

You didn’t bother pretending to be scoping the landscape.

The hum of the forest had grown steadily stronger throughout the trip, and now it slid through you like a melody. Calling to you more strongly than you’d ever felt. You took in greedy lungfuls of the damp, humid forest air. The scents of dew and vegetation invaded your nose, a world away from the canned air the recoms were forced to breathe in Bridgehead. Your ears swivelled towards every little sound, tail swaying to show content despite the mission ahead. Pandora was as gorgeous as she had ever been. The dappled sunlight peeking through the trees as the exotic fragrance of the plants filled the air.

As a human, it had never been this pretty. Behind an exo pack, you had never been able to smell the world, whilst the sights had been smudged by the acrylic screen.

This was freeing on an entirely new level.

Someone smacked you upside the head, abruptly shattering the nostalgia of finally returning to the forest. You choked, spinning in place and immediately stood to attention under the Colonel’s unimpressed glare. “What are you playing at Private?” He barked.

You could see the rest of the squad pretending not to look your way. Z-Dog and Walker had promptly turned their backs, clinging to each other as if it was the funniest thing in existence.

“Apologies sir, I got excited.” You replied sheepishly. "Needed to stretch my legs."

“Focus!” Quaritch stressed with an eye roll.

“Yes, sir.”

He nodded once before motioning to the others and leading the way into the undergrowth.

You fell into line, gun aimed on your surroundings as the squad moved further and further away from base.

Within the hour, the squad stumbled upon a broken AMP suit collapsed in front of an abandoned compound. The building looked like one of the remote link compounds the scientists used to use during avatar exertions. What it was doing so far away from its assigned location, you had no idea.

Quaritch immediately issued orders for the site to be secured. Whilst Z-Dog investigated the building, the rest of the squad fanned out into the clearing. Half went to search the undergrowth, whilst you remained nearby, eyes more focused on the compound than the forest.

The colonel and Wainfleet remained close to the AMP suit, quietly analysing the corpse impaled within the ribcage of the dismantled robot.

You swept close on your return pass, ears pricked as Quaritch glared daggers at the skull. Peering over his shoulder, your eyes widened at the pair of na'vi arrows jutting out of moss covered bone and the scar of a viperwolf scratch carved into the skull.

Quaritch's corpse.

And whoever had got him had been merciless in finishing him off.

The sight made you uneasy. Reminding you of the threats Pandora possessed. You were glad when a shout from the forest and the call for backup drew you from the suit.

No one knew how long the kids had been there. Whether they’d gotten curious and followed from the moment the samson touched down, or if they had been lingering around the shack. Either way, the petrified scream of the youngest girl had drawn the rest of your squad to the scene.

There were three na’vi kids in total, and one human child. All held hostage by a recom, whilst Quaritch interrogated each of them. You watched the scene from the sidelines, assuming Quaritch would decide they weren’t worth it and let them go.

But when the na’vi boy swore at him and Quaritch grinned with a simple, ”you’re his.”

Jake’s, you realised.

Your heart began to pound as you rounded the rear of the group, eyes narrowed as you took in the side profile of the boy. His too small eyes, the slope of his jaw, the fifth finger on each hand. At a glance, a full blooded na’vi. But you’d been around avatars long enough to pick out the little imperfections. The broader set to his shoulders, the lower position of his kuru that indicated human blood somewhere in the line.

Quaritch was precise in his motions. Taking the kid’s kuru in hand to begin interrogating him. The colonel was rough with him. Spitting sharp commands before yanking his knife from his thigh strap. The boy’s eyes widened a fraction. You saw the raw fear swimming within them as he stared blankly up at the snarling colonel. Refusing to back down. Refusing to waver.

Quaritch’s expression tightened as he raised the knife a fraction. Logically, you knew the first strike would be a fake, to scare the boy into spilling information with minimal effort. You were lurching forward half a step, ears fanning wide in alarm before you could stop yourself.

The motion of that knife froze mid air, a testament to the Colonel’s reflexes as his burning eyes flickered to you. You made an effort to smooth out your microexpressions, hands limp at your side instead of reaching for a weapon like you so desperately wanted to. Something in the kid’s face had made something tight and protective flare up between your ribs, and the Colonel had noticed.

Quaritch’s gaze was stern as shook his head in disappointment. “Don’t go getting soft on me, Private.” He reminded, grasp shifting on the kid’s kuru. “I know you had a soft spot for them back in the day, but none of that bullshit now.”

“Sorry sir.” You grit out, but didn’t retreat. He glared at you, you maintained steady eye contact until Wainfleet pulled Quaritch’s attention to the older na’vi girl. He had her fingers splayed for the colonel to see, chuckling at her five fingers.

Their conversation quickly dissolved into the back of your mind as Quaritch handed the na’vi boy off, putting blessed distance between the kid and his knife.

Tracking the Colonel’s movements as he approached the older girl, you found your attention drawn by the human boy. You blinked at his intense gaze, at the storm of unexplainable emotions swimming behind his eyes that you felt dizzy just looking at him. Despite his face being locked away behind an exopack, his gaze was no less piercing. He seemed to see you.

The squint of his eyebrows seemed to suggest he saw you. Not a soldier. Not a recom. Just you. As if he could see beneath the scientifically created body to the memory chip beneath, to what remained of your soul.

But that was probably just you projecting.

To distract yourself from the tightening of your chest, you also studied him as your comrades kept interrogating the children. Their voices grew distant as you inspected the blue stripes painted across tanned skin. The traditional Omaticayan weaving style of his armband as well as the songcord attached to the hem of his loincloth.

Your eyes caught on the necklace at his throat. A style that matched the one your human body wore in the video. Down to the brown and red beads. The familiar weaving style. Even at this distance, you recognised Tsu’tey’s handiwork.

And whilst it reassured and relieved you that he was still alive, that somehow, in some way, this child had a piece of him, you were confused. How had he gotten his hands on one of Tsu’tey’s pieces?

Then he steeled himself. Quaritch’s bulk warmed your back, his shadow falling over your left arm. In a shockingly gentle tone, Quaritch asked for the boy’s name, and surprisingly, he gave it.

”Spider Socorro.” He blurted in strained english.

Your ear flickered back at the colonel’s sharp inhale. “Miles?”

Spider straightened, chin lifted in defiance. “Nobody calls me that.”

Quaritch’s expression was unreadable. He didn’t bother to respond and stepped away to talk into his neck piece. He didn’t go far and simply turned his back, speaking to Ardmore as the squad shifted uneasily.

The kids hissed as the recoms began moving them towards the compound where the shuttle would more easily be able to let down the ropes. Your stomach tightened at the thought of dragging them back with you. To know how they felt and be unable to offer sympathy.

Quaritch motioned to the children. ”Keep hold of ‘em. Shuttle will be here in ten.”

Your stomach dropped. Not the shuttle. Not yet. You couldn’t stomach the idea of going back to Bridgehead after this. After such a short taste of freedom.

”Colonel.” You said loudly, making the man pause midstep. He levelled you with an unreadable look as you struggled to find your voice. “These kids are useless to us.”

As soon as the words left your lips, his expression visibly shut off and you knew you would not be able to get through to him. “I’m not gonna repeat myself, Private.” He snapped, pulling rank to put you in your place. You squared up to him. Chin lifted.

A distant bird call had your ears pricking. It was short. A burst of a sound. It had the kids straightening, all their ears fanning towards the sound.

The bird called again. That one note echoing through the trees.

Shifting uneasily, your eyes followed the direction it had come from, momentarily breaking eye contact. Quaritch smirked as if he’d won a great battle. “Take the na’vi boy.” He ordered, motioning to the kid who was promptly handed over, and then raised his voice to the squad. “Into defensive positions!”

The group fell into formation as the sun began its nightly cycle behind the moon, bringing with it a rain storm. The boy’s neural whip between your fingers quickly grew saturated, making your weak grip slip with every sharp movement he would make. That bird call did not grow distant or stop. In fact, you could’ve sworn it was getting closer.

There was a moment of stillness. The forest holding its breath as the recoms kept whispering to each other, kept moving noisily through the undergrowth. Blind to the silent warning.

You held your breath, going unnaturally still as the boy in front of you did the same.

There was a cut off shout. An explosion of movement near the main body of the group.

Keeping your position, your head snapped towards the sound. Mouth going dry at the na’vi arrow protruding from Fike’s skull. It had embedded itself into his eye socket, almost straight through.

Whatever was making that sound had clearly found the squad. And it wasn’t pleased.

As the group erupted into chaos, you saw your chance. Loosening your grip on the kid’s kuru, you slowly stepped back, praying the steady movements would not draw that hunter’s eye to your form. The kid spun to face you, wrists bound, looking wide eyed and terrified.

You raised your hands in surrender, head dipping. <”Get out of here.”> You hissed, nodding to the trees.

His ears fanned wide as a satellite. Momentarily frozen in time. Eyes studying your own for the trick.

A gun went off at his back, snapping him out of it. More arrows were fired and more recoms died.

He turned his back to you, and with a burst of speed began shepherding his little sister towards the treeline. The girl went easily, grabbing at his bound wrists and dragging him away.

You kept your attention on their backs, hand hanging close to your gun in case someone turned their attention on you.

The recoms were dying in disorganised clusters. The smart ones like Wainfleet and Z-Dog had already taken cover behind trees as the onslaught of arrows threw everyone else out of formation, causing them to scramble for cover. It gave you a sick sense of satisfaction.

A shout drew your attention.

Walker had the older girl by her kuru after she’d tried to make a break for it with Spider. She struggled as she yanked her back, her gun useless in her focus on keeping hold of her.

Your gaze narrowed. Your rifle was in your hands before you could think to check if anyone was looking. The trigger was smooth under your finger. And with a light squeeze the machine roared to life and shot a hole through the tree to her left.

Walker shrieked, hand spasming in fear as she instinctively let go of the girl’s neural whip. Spider was quick to grab her arm and run away, whilst an arrow found its mark in the recom’s chest. She collapsed in a heap. Dead on impact.

You grimaced.

The rain muffled your footsteps as you carefully retreated into the shadows of the trees. Thankfully, the squad was too preoccupied to notice your silent escape.

You felt like a traitor for withdrawing into the forest quietly. Which was funny considering that’s what you were. Your ears were pricked and your body low. Eywa must have wanted you to succeed because no arrow pierced your back.

The screaming from the small clearing had begun to die down now, but was quickly replaced by the sound of a machine gun going off. Definitely Mansk’s hand, he had always been quick to react in any situation. You quickened your pace, knowing the distance those things could reach.

The aim was to get as much distance between you and the squad as possible. Then, you’d tear off any and all equipment that would hinder your survival out in the forest until you stumbled across a clan and could ask for uturu. The word and its meaning came to you from a distant memory. A simpler time when Grace had been ranting about some new discovery she’d observed out in the field whilst you’d simply been trying to microwave your dinner.

One of the explosions went off a little too close to you. Making your pace falter as your head snapped up to watch the branches above burst into flames. You squinted as a figure got thrown clean off by the blast. They seemed to collide with every branch and bush in existence on the way down, screaming the whole way.

<”SPIDER!”> Yelled the older girl from before, appearing over the lip of the branch but not daring to jump after him.

Instinctively, you leapt forward, gun falling back on its strap as your arms came up to catch the falling kid. He crashed into your embrace with a punched out wheeze. Blood oozed from many cuts, whilst his back was warm to the touch, not burnt, but still caught by the flames.

Another explosion went off, spurring you back into motion. You tried to set the kid down, but he groaned painfully, clutching at your bullet proof vest as his legs failed to hold his weight.

“Shit.” You cursed under your breath. Glancing back to the branch, you realised the girl was still there. Still watching your every move. And still way too close to Quaritch and his squad. To the inbound airship.

Shifting the kid so he was supported by one of your arms against your body, you strained to relieve your feet of the heavy duty avatar boots. The laces were slippery from the rain, slithering out of your grasp and making you growl lowly to yourself. It felt like hours, but it could’ve only been seconds before you were barefoot, your shoes and socks discarded in the undergrowth.

”Hold on tight!” You instructed the kid, who dutifully wound his shaking legs around your ribcage and hooked his arms around your neck. You supported his back with one arm whilst you scrambled to begin climbing back up the hill he’d just tumbled down.

The soil was loose from the rain. The bushes offering no firm support due to your weight, their roots easily giving way if you dared hold onto them for support.

You hadn’t climbed anything in this body yet. With the base possessing stairs, and your memories of climbing trees locked away in a past life, there was no real need to. And yet, it came easily to this body. As if it had been born to scale the trees of the Pandoran rainforest despite being grown by aliens in a test tube.

The girl was quick to grab the back of your bullet proof vest once you were high enough. Heaving you up onto the branch with her whole body thrown back. Curling your toes into the uneven bark, you swayed in place, tail compensating for your shit balance. ”We need to move.” You insisted, once again readjusting your grip on the shivering child in your arms.

She nodded dutifully. ”This way.” You kept a hand on her bicep to steady her as she took off down the branch, leading you away from the gunfire.

With practised ease, she reached the end of the branch and smoothly dropped to the forest floor before scrambling away. You were slower in following, your body protesting the intense movements before your knees groaned at the sloppy landing. To his credit, Spider didn’t complain as the jerky ride, his eyes half closed behind his mask.

You pushed through the bushes to find the three na’vi kids waiting by some ikran. Eying the beasts wearily, you slowed your pace, listening to the older girl reassure her siblings with soft words at your approach.

You needed to be quick. The owner of those arrows would be returning for their kids soon. And whether or not it was Jake, they’re bound to kill you on sight without checking your face.

”He’s wounded. You must get him to the Tsahik quickly.” You explained as you approached, dropping into a crouch to set Spider down gently at the kids’ feet. He protested again, putting up a valiant fight to keep a hold of you, but you were stronger than him. Your touch was firm as you removed his limbs from you and sat him down.

Kiri was quick to drop to his level, frowning hard at his bloodied appearance. Feeling sorry for the wounded kid, you dared to take a couple of extra seconds pulling out a knife from your belt to cut him free.

He pouted as he rubbed the circulation back into his wrists. Those piercing eyes darting all over your face.

You turned to leave, but the youngest kid was quick to waddle up to your side, her bound wrists extended. ”Can you cut me loose too?”

”I /really/ need to go.” You reply softly, before cutting her loose anyway.

You shifted back, only for the older pair to immediately extend their arms expectantly. You audibly groaned, before reaching for the boy since he was closest.

”Zaza?” Spider croaked, making your brows furrowed at the odd word. Around you, the older kids had gone unnaturally still. <”Is that you?”>

”Zaza?” You repeated, finding the word felt odd on your tongue. It sparked a distant memory, of a late night sprawled on a bunk with someone beside you. Someone tall and distracted. The memory brought with it a sense of dread; a distant threat. You discarded that train of thought before it could distract you for too long.

<”It can’t be.”> The na’vi girl commented, and now it was her turn to begin studying you.

”I don’t know what that means.” You pleaded, hands frozen in time, the knife still poised. A headache was beginning to form between your eyes, and your stress levels were incredibly high, but no one was giving you a straight answer. All you knew for certain was that you didn’t recognise this boy, and yet, he looked at you as if he knew you.

<”Holy shit.”> Was all Spider replied with, slumping against the forest floor.

<”No way.”> The na’vi boy agreed with a laugh. He was grinning hard, ears perked.

His younger sister looked as confused as you felt. Whilst the older girl was inspecting you in a way similar to how Grace used to look at something that deeply fascinated her.

Out of nowhere a large, calloused hand wrapped around your shoulder, yanking you back and away from the kids. The hand moved with the momentum, throwing you off balance to land hard on your back. You gasped loudly, your knife flying away into the bushes. The kids were already yelling as you struggled to gather your bearings.

The barrel of an old model RDA rifle came into focus, inches from your face, making you gulp loudly. Following the line of the weapon, your gaze travelled up a blue arm to a scowling face that you hadn’t seen in decades.

<”JAKE DON’T!”> Spider yelled. Despite the frantic edge in his voice, he remained unmoving. His eyes as large as the moon as he stared unblinkingly up at the na’vi’s turned back.

<”DAD! NO!”> The oldest girl shrieked, clumsily shoving her bound hands into the na’vi’s stomach, her eyes wide and pleading.

The boy was quick to jump to your defence. <”They helped us escape Dad- SIR! Don’t!”>

<”DADDY!”> The youngest shrieked, joining in at her older siblings’ reactions. She promptly latched herself onto his leg, clingy tightly and making his strong stance waver. If you weren’t seconds from dying - again - it would’ve been a comically domestic scene.

You shifted your gaze back to the man in question. Jake looked different. He was older now. Tired. Blue. Very fucking blue. His expression was aged, his hair in dreadlocks. You barely recognised him.

Movement over his shoulder brought your gaze to yet another kid. Older than the others, he shared the same hard expression as his father, an arrow notched and reading in his bow. Clearly, there was no chance of escape. If Jake missed you by some miracle, that boy would finish the job for him.

Jake hadn’t lowered his gun. He was still studying you, blatantly ignoring his kids as his narrowed eyes swept over the planes of your face. The weight of the stare was heavy as his frown deepened.

Somehow, you managed to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, terrified but fucking estatic that he was alive. ”Long time no see, marine.”

No reaction. The gun didn’t lower. His expression didn’t change. Remaining cold and closed off.

Your smile faltered as you realise he probably didn’t recognise you. You expected the gun to be shoved back against you, for a bullet to shoot through your body and for you to die again.

Nothing happened.

Then something seems to click. ”Impossible.” Is all Jake said, and he lowered his weapon. The kids collectively breathed out and moved out of his way.

His brow was furrowed now as he dropped into a crouch. Jake loomed over you, his shadow blocking out the moon as his arm shot forward to grab at the front of your bullet proof vest to yank it down. You jerked, instinctively growling at him as his large hand grabbed your dog tag chain and pulled it out of hiding. The chain pulled taught as he dragged you in by the neck, in turn, Jake stooped lower, eyes squinting to read the printed metal in the pathetic light of the forest.

He sucked in a breath. <”What kind of sick-”> He cut himself off with a swear, dropping the tag like it had burned him. His eyes shone with a dense swirl of emotion when he caught your gaze again, his voice punching out of him in a yell. ”You should be dead!”

Your expression furrowed. ”Sorry to disappoint?”

He cursed again. <”Kids, get to the ikran. Your mother should be waiting for you.”> None of them moved. Jake growled. <”Did you hear?”>

You could make a break for it right now. Roll onto your stomach and dart off into the forest whilst he was preoccupied. The boy with the bow had loosened his arrow when Jake had dropped the gun from your face. But there was no guarantee he wouldn’t put a bullet between your shoulders for your hard work.

In another life, you had been friends; comrades. But now, he was a stranger. And you were decked out in enemy gear.

The heat of the jungle was getting to you now. Causing sweat to bead on your brow and moisture to collect under the heavy, bullet proof vest clutching tight to every movement of your torso. The military grade trousers clung uncomfortably to your legs, your boots long gone but your feet weak and vulnerable against the rough terrain of the jungle floor.

In contrast, Jake was in his element. Adorned in traditional Omaticayan attire and walking around barefoot without an issue.

Private! Quaritch’s calm voice over the com sent chills down your spine, making you stiffen. Private! Do you read me?

You dared not respond. Jake was still studying you. Those unnatural glowing eyes pinning you in place.

Y/n! Dude, you alive! Lyle’s loud voice had you wincing. Jake’s head snapped down at the sound, ears fanning wide as Lyle kept trying to coax you into responding. Making your insides twist tighter and tighter.

You’d been hoping for a clean break that would spare your conscience. They weren’t supposed to have noticed your absence yet.

Fuck, Quaritch was gonna kill you for getting cornered by Jake. That is if Jake didn’t kill you first.

You were so caught up in your musing that you didn’t notice the man in question had moved, until a hand clamped hard around your queue, snapping your head back from the harsh yank. The sound you let out could never have been produced by a human. It echoed through the trees, making your ears flatten.

Jake paid you no mind as he harshly dragged you to your feet.

”Jake!” Spider yelled at him, eyes hardened.

The marine waved him off as you struggled to comply, your balance all thrown off and mud clinging to your ass and back. His movements were sharp, making you gasp. In one swift motion, he dug his finger under your earpiece and tossed it away into the undergrowth.

”Jesus, you’ve gotten cranky in your old age.” You complained, struggling to relieve the pressure on your kuru.

Jake let out a surprised burst of air that could’ve been a laugh. ”Glad to see whatever they’ve done to you hasn’t dimmed your humour, Private.”

”Fuck off with that military shit.”

He kicked at your calf, tripping you into walking faster. Snapping your teeth at him, you followed the sound of the kids retreating into the undergrowth. Jake’s grip was painful on your kuru, but he was no longer using it to guide you along like a misbehaving horse, so you would take it.

”You started it.” He blurted in that typical knee jerk reaction of his. You huffed at the familiarity of it. ”Now start walking.”

”You’re not seriously considering taking me with you? Are you?” He didn’t respond and you let out a bark of laughter. ”You’re being an idiot.”

“I’m sparing your life.” Jake replied sharply. ”Usually, people are grateful.”

You saw the ikran first. They weren’t as big as you remembered, but still scared the shit out of you.

<”Ma Jake, what are you doing? Kill-”> Neytiri hissed from beside her mount. The youngest girl cradled to her chest. The woman stepped away from her ikran’s side, bow slung over her shoulder and her expression thunderous.

Jake pulled you up short, startling a second shout of pain from you. ”Dude! Ease up. Come on!”

Neytiri suddenly appearing in front of you had you stiffening. Her gaze pierced through you, studying your face with a hunter’s precision. She recognised you much faster than her mate.

“Would you quit whining?”

”You’re being an asshole!”

You could only watch dumbly as her eyes widened, mouth dropping open whilst her ears fanned wide as the membrane of a frilled lizard. The hand not cradling her daughter flew to her mouth as that expression morphed into one of fiery rage.

”What did they /DO/ to you?” She shrieked, the sheer grief in her tone making you flinch. Her breath stuttered, glancing at Jake before finding your pained expression again. “Eywa took you home.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself of that fact.

The kids shuffled on your peripheral. Unsettled by their mother’s blatant grief. Neytiri drew your attention back.

”How is it that you stand before me now?!”

Her cry echoes through the trees, bouncing back to your bent ears with the same gut wrenching emotion as they had had leaving her mouth. You stared blankly at your friend, feeling all sense of hope and joy at being found drain away.

She was looking at you like you were a ghost or some kind of illusion. Waiting for you to evaporate or cease to exist at any moment.

Your presence had unknowingly opened an old, festering wound that had barely healed the first time.

This wasn’t the reunion you’d been expecting. This wasn’t the open arms and tears you’d been praying for whilst you planned your escape. This was everything you didn’t want.

“I’m sorry..”

>_<

Jake’s grip was unforgiving as he hauled you off of his ikran at High Camp. Your arms strained against the vines they’d used to bind your wrists, fingers failing to keep you on your feet as he forcefully yanked you down off of his ikran and onto the uneven cliff edge. One hand still grasped your kuru, whilst the other bit imprints into your bicep.

They’d stripped you of your gear before wrestling you onto a banshee.

Now, your weapons, bullet proof vest and any form of communication with the RDA lay soaked in rainwater somewhere in the forest. You didn’t mourn the loss of the devices, since the RDA could no longer track you without them. But you did miss the false protection of the knife and the warmth of the vest against the frigid mountain air.

Goosebumps erupted up your forearms as you were dragged further into the heart of the camp. Tents had been erected inside the cave system, made homely by the cooking fires within and the decorative rugs lining the cold, stone floors.

You glimpsed a compound on one of the rocky rises. The shining metal stood out like a sore thumb against the wooden structures of the tents and the warm glow of the fires.

Jake kept you walking, guiding you through the gathering throng of clan members. Some you recognised, many you didn’t. They all stared at you the same. With pinned back ears and judgemental eyes.

It was a relief when you were shoved between the flaps of the largest tent so far. The atmosphere was tense inside, with a fire burning low in the centre and various belongings stacked up against the walls. Herbs dried where they hung from the ceiling, whilst a hammock hung suspended against the back wall where two figures crouched over a map.

Your heart leapt into your throat. The rest of the clan and Jake’s unforgiving grip on you fell away as your eyes widened.

The years had been kind to Mo’at. She still wore her red beaded shawl, but had updated her headpiece and decorative necklaces, one of which appeared to have been made by a child. Her intelligent eyes snapped towards you in the small space, the weight of the years portrayed in the heavy crow’s feet and bags pulling at her cheeks. That expression did not change as she studied you.

Tsu’tey shifted at her elbow, looking as handsome as he always had. White paint ran down the line of his nose, from forehead to chin, standing out brightly against the soft blue of his skin. He carried himself with an undeniable sense of authority, chin lifted as that razor sharp glare cut you down to your very core. He no longer wore the necklace that had matched the choker your human body wore, but the rest of him had not changed. He studied you wordlessly, his lips dragged down into a frown as if he’d already analysed all he needed to know.

Your eyes caught on the bullet scars that adorned his left shoulder. They were old, faded with time but obvious. Your stomach tensed at the thought of what he had been through in your absence.

Wordlessly, you watched as Spider - who had slipped in behind you - skirted the fire and walked straight for Tsu’tey. “Dad.” The boy breathed, barely loud enough for you to hear. The hunter immediately opened his arms for the boy to fall into, his tail swaying anxiously as he whispered inaudibly to the young boy. Spider finally lost the tension in his body, whilst your stomach clenched painfully. You hated to imagine what their closeness meant.

Neytiri burst into the tent behind you, making your ears shoot up and your body jerk. She paid you no mind, kicking at the back of your knee to force you to kneel. You gasped as Jake’s grip left you and Neytiri took his place. Her nails digging crescent moons into your scalp as she grasped the back of your neck with unforgiving tightness.

<”Daughter, what brings you here with such rage in your eye?”> Mo’at asked carefully. Her familiar voice sounded so calm, so familiar. You squeezed your eyes shut at the sudden weight behind them.

<”The Sky People have found a new low.”> Neytiri declared loudly to the silent tent. Mo’at hummed.

Somewhere behind the canvas of the tent wall, you heard small feet shift. Glancing to the side, you saw a tiny eye peering up at you from the gap between the material and the floor. Those unnaturally large eyes bore into your soul, making your tail thrash with nerves.

Neytiri’s fingers turned into claws in your hair, snapping your attention back to the situation at hand as she grasped a fistful of hair and yanked. <”They have begun to resurrect the dead.”> Your head snapped up from the motion, causing your neck to crack and warm pain to deep down your spine. Your mouth opened wide with an involuntary, pained gasp.

Mo’at didn’t move.

Tsu’tey was scowling hard at her side, Spider wincing in sympathy at your treatment. Two sides of one coin. An odd pairing in appearance, but even in the short time you’d seen them together, you knew there was a bond there. Probably years old.

With the crack in her daughter’s voice, Mo’at rose from her seat. On silent footsteps, she rounded the fire. ”What are you called?”

You could tell that who you were still hadn’t clicked into place for Tsu’tey from the way that his ears flickered in uncertainty. Still looking confused, he composed himself, sitting back on his hunches to look at Neytiri. <”What is the meaning of this? Why have you brought this puppet to High Camp.”>

<”It protected the children.”> Neytiri returned easily. Making it sound like you were a pissed off thanator that had by some miracle, spared her offspring. <”It recognised us.”>

”Neytiri-”

<”You do NOT speak here.”>

Your name sat frozen on your tongue. The reactions of your previous two friends made you not want to reveal yourself. Neytiri shook you painfully by the kuru, letting out a warning hiss.

You spoke your name, eternally grateful that Mo’at’s towering form blocked Tsu’tey from view.

More humming from Mo’at as she reached for the tiny blade concealed within the sheath of her head dress. You eyed her wearily, held still by Neytiri’s hand in your hair as she pricked your shoulder. She pulled the bloodied blade back, tasting the drop of blood.

Her ears pricked at the taste, staring at you with a newfound revelation. ”It is you.” She confirmed, and something seemed to unwind in both Jake and Neytiri. ”But altered. You are not as the Great Mother intended.”

She motioned to her daughter, expression pinched. Neytiri tried to protest, but at her mother’s stern glare, her hands retreated from you. Your posture immediately slumped, relieved tingles echoing across your scalp and down your back.

”Explain.” Mo’at boomed, commanding your attention once more.

That finally got a reaction from the hunter still crouching over the map.

”The Sky People grew this body as they grew the avatars.” She nodded along to the simple explanation, sharing glances with Tsu’tey over her shoulder. You swallowed. ”They uploaded my memories into it. This body is me.”

Jake sidestepped, putting himself back into your line of sight. ”So you aren’t linked up?” There was something unreadable in his eyes. You almost mistook it for hope.

You shook your head. That body was long gone. ”This is my body now.”

Spider had sat down on the mat beside him by now, and shifted uncertainly as the man wordlessly rose from his couch with the authority of a king rising from his throne. Mo’at stepped aside as he took slow, menacing steps towards you. Swallowing hard, you dared to meet his burning gaze highlighted by the soft white paint. The vibrant grief and rage swirling within those gorgeous depths was startling to behold.

His hand went to the knife at his waist, wrestling it free with the practised song of the blade against its bone sheath. Your fight or flight threatened to kick in as you recognised the same hunter’s stalk he had performed the morning Neytiri and Jake had officially mated.

<”Olo’eyktan?”> Mo’at asked, eying him wearily.

He ignored her, storming past her fast enough to have her braids dancing. That gaze was narrowed; honed in on prey.

His arm drew back.

Your eyes widened.

With a yell, he took a swift swipe at your head which you barely managed to dive out of the way of.

<”DAD NO!”> Spider yelled from across the tent. He was on his feet in minutes, scrambling forward, only for Mo’at to hold him back with her arm.

Neytiri tutted at the poorly aimed blow, her tail thrashing on your peripheral as you cowered in the dirt, your arms still bound and braced against stone. Vulnerable skin tore on uneven rock as you scrambled away, kicking yourself for turning your back, but knowing distance was more important.

At least Jake seemed to have your back.

<”Tsu’tey, what are you doing?”> The marine asked, immediately jumping in to stop him from striking again as you scrambled to get your feet under you. With your hands bound, it was a struggle. Your tail thrashed, attempting to aid your balance as you scrambled away.

Tsu’tey was like a man possessed, shoving Jake off balance and making another stab at you. His ears were flat on either side of his head, eyes wild and manic. You’d never seen him so pissed. And certainly not so quiet whilst being so angry. It was somehow more terrifying than if he were screaming at you.

Jake scrambled to stay on his feet, his arms wrapping around Tsu’tey’s waist and yanking him back. Causing the knife to fall short of slicing through your side. The Olo’eyktan shrieked, a noise you had never heard a na’vi make before as his nails clawed at the man’s arms, failing to tear him off. Your ears flattened at the heart wrenching sound. Eyes not quite leaving the knife still in the Olo’eyktan’s grasp. A knife which he was quick to recall and hurl at your head.

“Jesus FUCKING christ!” You swore, ducking again. “Calm down!”

He hissed in retaliation, ears pinned back from the ferocity of the sound. You stilled at the glint of water staining his cheeks, the redness of his eyes. ”I mourned you!” He cursed. Still struggling. Still trying to close the distance and kill you.

Scratch that last part. Seeing him cry and begin to break down was far worse than anger.

”I buried you.” He screamed, the shout echoing around the tent and no doubt chasing itself out into the main cavern. ”I visited you in Eywa!”

Numbly, you took a step back. Towards the tent flaps.

This had been a mistake. Coming here was a mistake.

”I have made my peace with your passing! What purpose do you serve? Why have you returned to haunt me?” There was so much anguish in his tone, you would’ve preferred a punch to the jaw. ”WHY!?”

”I couldn’t stay there.” You breathed, straightening your shoulders when you realised you’d curled in on yourself under that venomous glare. ”I couldn’t stay there!” You repeated, louder this time. Needing to be heard. Understood. ”With them.” Your throat was uncomfortably tight. ”I wanted to come home.”

”THIS IS NOT YOUR HOME, DEMON!” Tsu’tey was quick to snap back. His expression shattered, the rage giving way to a tsunami of grief so strong it made you sick. ”LEAVE!”

But you were frozen in place.

Tsu’tey took it as a challenge. With strength that made your eyes bug out, he stomped on Jake’s foot, shot his arms back, grabbed the marine by the weapons belt and yanked him up and over his shoulder. Jake hit the stone floor hard. With a wheeze, he collapsed in a heap, momentarily stunned.

You gawked.

Spider seemed to come back to himself. In your peripheral, you watched the kid expertly duck under Mo’at’s arm and dart around the fire, with the ease of someone who’d been doing it his entire life.

Tsu’tey’s form blocked him from view. His muscles were bunched like a thanator preparing to pounce.

”GET. OUT!” Tsu’tey screamed again. He made to step over Jake, only for the man to grab his ankle and yank, causing the hunter to crash at your feet. You leapt back as his hands shot for your ankles.

Spider was at your side in moments. ”This way!” He yelled, grabbing at your bound wrists and dragging you towards the tent flaps. You obeyed, but your eyes remained glued to Tsu’tey. To the hands that would drag you down and gladly wring your neck. To the twisted expression on his face, so alien to you and causing the white paint to bunch and flake.

Mo’at tutted at his back. <”You do not think clearly.”> She narrated, stalking around the fist fight now commencing on her tent floor.

”Come on!” Spider urged, tugging sharply on your wrists and tearing your attention from Tsu’tey and the rest of them. ”We have to get you out of here.”

<”Give me a head start?”> Spider joked with a hoarse laugh, the furious screams of Tsu’tey biting at your ankles.

Neytiri appeared at your side, yanking aside the tent flap and helping Spider shove you outside. <”Take the ikran.”> She urged the boy, her expression icy. <”They cannot remain here.”>

You had FUCKING GATHERED THAT MUCH!

Neytiri nodded sharply before barking out loudly, <”Neteyam!”>

A flurry of movement by the side of the tent revealed the older son from before. His expression was painfully neutral as his gaze slid from his mother to the teenager holding you hostage by your bound wrists.

<”Take the demon to the forest.”> Neytiri stated. She didn’t wait to see if he acknowledged her command before promptly ducking back into the tent. The flicker of a memory tickled the back of your mind at her sharp cursing as the ruckus within the tent continued.

The boy, Neteyam, barely spared you a glance before heading back the way you’d been dragged into the camp. Despite being dragged all the way here for the Olo’eyktan to pass his judgement, the Sully family were doing a spontaneous job of doing the opposite of his will. You had no doubt that Tsu’tey would have gutted you regardless of his knee-jerk reaction.

You were lost in your musings as Neteyam hollered for his ikran, three bursts of sound that had the magnificent beast dropping from a higher level of the cave system to stand before its rider. The boy was quick to form Tsaheylu, before fluidly mounting up.

<”Where are we headed?”>

<”The old village.”> Spider replied simply, guiding you towards the back of the mount with firm pushes.

Part 1 -> Next Chapter

#Tsu'tey x Reader #Dad!Tsu'tey #Son!Spider #xreader #grief #temporary character death #conflict #recoms #recom reader #part 1 of 3 #Tsu'tey #Spider socorro #avatar #avatar the way of water

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askmotley · 1 year ago

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Is this the first time Angel Cake's been disappointed in you? Or is she just really strict in general?

#motley #cherry pit #part 1 of 3 #oc #original character #edit: fixed typo

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cakemousse · 1 year ago

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part 2

part 3

#ml polls #paris special #TELL ME WHICH ONE IS IT BEFORE THE FUCKING SPECIAL DROPS #PART 1 OF 3 #miraculous ladybug #toxinelle #shadybug #griffe noire #claw noir

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ngalu · 9 months ago

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#incorrect stranger things quotes #Byler #part 1 of 3

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alianoralacanta · 5 months ago

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Hi! So I am a newer fan and I know you've been a Charles fan for so long, was it really unusual for him to be this outspoken about Ferrari and his true feelings after the races? Because the way some people responded to his statement you would think he flipped the middle finger to Sainz and his entire family.

I also know he has this reputation to be more PR-oriented than Sainz. I think it was China where Charles said he and Carlos had talked and everything was fine in response to a journalist, and Carlos had said the complete opposite, that they hadn't talked at all.

Judging from my activity panel, a few other people have had similar questions…

Charles sometimes gets outspoken out of anger after races. It's not common, but also within character for him. For people who've followed Charles long enough, he tends to "leak" the emotions he's feeling no matter how hard he tries to hide them, to the point where even I, who in most circumstances is pretty bad at interpreting body language, can reliably do so. Usually he keeps an impressive amount of verbal control while still making it obvious what he feels. Sometimes, though, this does not happen. Before Spain 2024, the target of the outspokenness was always one of two people: himself, and whoever his team boss happened to be at the time. The outbursts against himself became notorious, especially Baku 2019 and Turkey 2020. If you hear about journalists talking about Charles being self-deprecating or looking to improve his own performance before looking to others, that reputation got founded on him being vocally harsh towards his own mistakes on the radio and in subsequent interviews on several occasions. To the point where a lot of Charles' fans outright fear the "Leclerc radio" message appearing following a mistake. He's got better at keeping things in proportion now, but knowing how harsh he can be helps with understanding what happens when others raise his ire. There are two occasions where he had significant outbursts like this towards a boss: Singapore 2019 and Silverstone 2022. On the first of these, Charles thought he'd got a third win in a row in the bag. However, Sebastian Vettel made an early stop in order to protect his ability to fight for a podium spot (something Charles wasn't offered since Ferrari had no especial reason to believe his win was under threat in that direction) - and it was so effective Sebastian ended up leading, and winning, the race. it soon emerged that Charles did not have a valid complaint to make, but he was so angry that he complained anyway. (Charles ended up apologising later that week, after his error was explained to him). This, I think, is what some of Carlos' fans think Charles was doing on Sunday but wasn't. They think Charles complained without cause, took the shine off what was otherwise a special occasion for them (Carlos' last Ferrari race in Spain until further notice) - and thus they think Charles owes them an apology. However, Charles has always been careful to leave a certain amount of ambiguity in his post-race verbal conduct towards team-mates, even when he's upset with them. He's sometimes had to assert boundaries with Carlos in the past when Carlos has overstepped a boundary, and sometimes queried something Sebastian did, but always with an eye to keeping channels of communication open. A "we'll talk about this" or "I need to see the data" can change a blunt criticism into a perspective that could potentially require other perspectives to understand the full truth. The latter tends to be more palatable to observers and thus PR people, even if both allow Charles' true opinions to be voiced.

#f1 #charles leclerc #part 1 of 3

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daemon-is-perfectly-unhinged · 2 months ago

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klaus and hayley being the blueprint for daemon and rhea in the reverberate au, part I

@syndrossi

#part 1 of 3 #reverberate au #its the ‘nothing true’ for me THAT MAKES ME GO AHHHHHH #they hate each other but they love their kids and that ends with them caring about each other #resonant videos #resonant by syndrossi #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #rhea royce

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bi-the-wei · 1 year ago

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Some random baby Lans taking a cooking lesson with Hanguan Jun

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #lan wangji #lan zhan #hanguang jun #derps #part 1 of 3 #Adoption AU

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knightprincess · 6 hours ago

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Magic Medic (Part 1 of 3) - The 501st

Words: 2.2k Requested by: @rexmeshlasblog Note: She/her pronouns and Y/N are used. The second part will also include an OC (Iseult)—it was originally meant to be a one-shot but became a mini-series instead.

The war was brutal, even for the bravest of people, even for the troopers who had been created to fight for the republic tirelessly. Often with no reward or gratitude for the battles won and sacrifices made. There is no time to truly mourn and grieve the loss of their brothers who perished on the many battlefields spread across the wartorn galaxy.

Despite the never-ending stream of battlefields and warzones, some troopers had found something to help them keep fighting even when they wanted nothing more than to live a normal life, to be free and be able to choose what they wanted rather than someone deciding it for them. Rex was one of those lucky few. His reason for fighting outside of loyalty to what he believed in and his brothers and friends was a medic—specifically, the civvi medic assigned to the 501st.

She was beautiful, an angel in the eyes of many. Gentle, kind, and innocent, even with a contagious laugh that could get even the grumpiest men to smile. (Y/N) Devitt was her name. She comes from a small, peaceful island on an outer rim world, so out of the way, it hadn't been touched by the war and was almost as unknown as Kamino.

She would speak of her family on the odd occasion, but only when asked. Her parents had passed on when she was just a little girl, too young to truly remember them, so her uncle had taken her and her three siblings in and raised them as if they were his own. All three of (Y/N)'s siblings had applied for the GAR, too, when the republic announced they were hiring civilians. One of her brothers was a mechanic assigned to the 212th, and the other was a cryptographer stowed away in the military base on Coruscant. Finally, her sister was a medic, and she was often on rotation. She'd be wherever she was needed. As was typical for civvi medics, there weren't enough for each legion to have their own.

"Do you think Rex knows?" asked Jesse, looking to the datapad in hand; on it was the personnel file of the civvi medic identified as CM-1916. As was customary for the files of civvi personnel, there was a picture and a few personal details, such as last name, homeworld, gender, and age, but that was it. "Our angel is set to be transferred to the 104th," added Jesse as he handed the datapad to Fives and Echo.

Kix stood in the corner, still trying to process his feelings. (Y/N) was the most helpful medic they'd had so far. She had been with them twice throughout her rotations; the first time, she'd not been afraid to speak her mind or have a laugh with the boys. This second time, she'd been calmer, less sarcastic, but still brought light to their dark days.

"She never mentioned she worked with the commandoes before," worded Fives, astonishment flooding his voice as curiosity began to take over. (Y/N) wasn't any stranger to telling stories of her time with other legions, and on the occasions she was back on Coruscant. But she never stated she'd been assigned to Foxtrot and the unorthodox Clone Force 99.

"(Y/N)'s too gentle and innocent to be around Gregor," voiced Kix, almost storming over to the trio of Jesse and the Domino Twins, ignoring Hardcase's mischievous-filled chuckle coming from the stack of crates nearby. Almost as if he was privy to something no one else knew of.

"Rex," called Hardcase when the Captain appeared. There was little doubt he'd come looking for them upon noticing they were absent from the barracks again. There were few places to hide on board a Jedi Cruiser, so Rex only had to eliminate each hiding spot or guess from the small number to find them. "Did you know our precious (Y/N) is being reassigned? The 104th."

"Nobody told me," replied Rex, a smirk appearing across his lips in seconds as his eyes lit up ever so slightly. He managed to stifle his chuckle before it rumbled too loudly. More about what he remembered about (Y/N) and the hidden truth the boys in blue, even General Skywalker, had yet to learn. "(Y/N) just told me she will be staying with us for another rotation," announced Rex, watching as the confusion spread from one brother to the next until it circled back around to where it started.

Fives soon looked back at the datapad, intrigue beginning to paint itself across his features. He was curious. Was there a miscommunication somewhere? Or had the personnel file yet to be updated? Echo soon seemed perplexed. How was it MC-1916, their (Y/N) was to be assigned to the 104th and remained with them simultaneously? They all knew she was a talented medic, but even she couldn't be in two places at once.

Echo soon handed Rex the medical personnel file. A deep chuckle escaped him as he shook his head when his golden eyes landed on the screen. However, the captain didn't elaborate or speak of what had tickled him. Instead, he just grinned as he left the cargo hold, leaving the five troopers known for mischief-making confused in his wake.

"I get the feeling he knows something we don't," Jesse said, his golden eyes locked on the door Rex had chuckled through a few seconds earlier.

"You think," replied Echo, so fast it was as if the Arc Trooper had the words resting on the tip of his tongue. Once again, Hardcase laughed, louder this time, but again, he didn't elaborate or shed light on the theory he was sure held truth to it. After all, in a drunken haze the month prior, he was sure he'd seen two of (Y/N) at the bar of 79's letting loose while on shore leave. He never said anything about it nor asked her, instead believing he'd been so drunk his vision and mind were playing tricks on him.

"Hardcase," called Kix, turning his attention to the hyperactive brother, who seemed lost in thought but smirked like he was waiting for chaos to unfold. Bouncing in his seated position as if he vibrated from all the energy coursing through him. "What do you know?" cautiously asked the medic as he tried to decipher if Hardcase knew anything or was ribbing them again.

"Nothing," replied Hardcase, between his chuckles and sniggers. "Just something I think I saw last month and what Comet said a while back," he added innocently as if he was a cadet again on Kamino being punished for purposely winding up the bounty hunter in charge of training.

"Something you think you saw?" repeated Jesse. His interest was piqued, although he was unsure if it was because of Rex's earlier reaction or the mystery that seemed to unfold before them now. "Do tell."

"At 79's before we were deployed to Seleucami," began Hardcase, thinking back to the fun night again. "I was drunk, seen two of (Y/N), both of them were at the bar, one talking to Cody and Howzer, the other appeared to be playing games with the Bad Batch," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck as if to buff away the embarrassment. The two versions had been identical next to each other, yet no one else seemed to notice there were two versions of (Y/N).

"Two (Y/N)'s," spoke Kix, hearing Fives and Echo sniggering between themselves, almost as if they were in disbelief. Jesse was no better, practically stunned into silence—no doubt questioning how they wouldn't have noticed two versions of their angel. "I love her, but I can't handle two. Be like those two but worse," he commented, throwing a limp hand toward Fives and Echo.

"At least we'd know how she feels dealing with us," replied Fives, ignoring the previous comment, even when Echo pretended to be offended by it. "Makes you wonder what the 104th think is going on; Wolffe's not exactly one for mishaps," added the Arc Trooper, recalling Rex saying the battle-worn commander only seemed to like one of the civvi medics to pass through. Sarcastic, loud, and strong-willed, his eye hadn't bothered her, nor had his growls when she dragged him to her medbay.

"I don't think he'll care as long as the civvi medic knows what they're doing," replied Echo, looking up when the door to the cargo hold swooshed open. Rex returned behind (Y/N), now dressed in ordinary civvi clothes. Hyperspace was her off-duty time, or at least that's what they liked to say. (Y/N) however, always said medics didn't have the luxury of being off duty. Someone always needed their help.

"(Y/N)," called Jesse, confusion still written across his lips. "Why didn't you tell us about your ability to be in two places at once?" he asked, hearing (Y/N) sweetly chuckle, her eyes lighting up in amusement.

"I thought you boys already knew I could teleport," replied (Y/N), as another small giggle escaped her. Even more so as she witnessed the small group trying to figure out if she was serious or not. Although she'd admit she found it amusing, they hadn't seen the truth yet, even when all the clues were before them. "My ma was a witch from Dathomir; she taught me a trick or two," she added, her smile brightening just slightly as mischief began to lace through it.

"Neat trick, even if confusing when first seeing it," added Rex, refusing to admit he knew the truth. He was happy to keep it a secret for a little longer, if only to get some overdue payback on the five brothers gathered in the hold. "I don't think General Skywalker or Commander Tano quite wrapped their heads around it yet either," laughed the captain, throwing the two Jedi into the conversation for good measure.

"Do tell," called Kix, his brows sown together as if he suspected something wasn't quite what it seemed. Echo seemed to share his suspicion, although it was unclear if they were on the same trail.

"First date of all times," answered (Y/N), recalling that it had been an accident. Thankfully, Rex understood after it had been explained to him thrice. "Got a little distracted while waiting for Rex to return from the refresher, accidentally teleported to the bar," she explained, another sweet giggle escaping her lips. "Poor Comet, he didn't know what to do."

"Nah, the first time I noticed it was at the base," corrected the great Captain. Recalling the event, even now, it still drew a chuckle out of him, especially when he'd not been the only one to witness the unusual event or be bewildered by it. "You and Fox walked past me, Cody, and Wolffe. We saw you again with Clone Force 99 when we rounded the corner," recalled Rex.

"What …" Jesse called out in utter bewilderment. "How … What … I don't get it … What?"

"So you can teleport and pester more than one of us at a time?" questioned Fives, "Please teach me, please, please, please," he begged, his mischievous glint returning although tainted with confusion. He'd never met a civvi who could teleport, let alone cause so much chaos by helping people.

"What do you need to teleport for? You got Echo," called Hardcase, laughing at himself when he fell off the crates he'd previously been perched on. "You two switch so much; it's a game called Guess the Domino."

"Should we tell them?" asked (Y/N), looking down at the personnel file on the datapad. Her smile only seemed to widen when she did. Even more so when she knew all the clues to the truth were in front of the troopers, especially if they looked close enough.

"Nope," simply replied Rex.

"Tell us what?" called Kix, curious now more than ever. "Rex, (Y/N), tell us what?"

"I still owe you a caf date, right?" asked Rex, recalling when he had to take a rain check. He'd skipped the date to ensure General Skywalker's secret stayed as such.

"Yup," voiced (Y/N), popping the p. While taking the hint to draw out the torment of the collection of boys in blue.

"Rex corrupted our angel," Echo said playfully, accusing their captain. "Wait, don't medics outrank everyone?'

"You boys are smart; you'll work it out," called Rex as he led (Y/N) back through the door. He intended to take her to the mess hall for the caf, if only so the pair could laugh about it a little bit more. "Eventually."

"Game on," voiced Fives, accepting the challenge to figure out the truth. "I'll wager we'll have it figured by the time we get back to Coruscant," he called, acting far more confident than he felt. How were they going to figure out what was going on? What Rex and (Y/N) were hiding from them.

"You're not gonna let them live this down, are you?" asked (Y/N) as the two walked toward the lift.

"Nope," replied Rex with a mischievous grin of his own now. "Although I have a few ideas on how to prolong it," he added. "It involves Iseult," he whispered when close enough to ensure no one else heard the whispered name or learned about the secret weapon of mischief.

Part 2 - Part 3

Knight Princess Masterlist

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iamnotthere-idonotdie · 9 months ago

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adored

…………………………………………………………………………………….

synopsis: reader works a menial job where they meet bruce wayne. the two meet up later at a bar and spend the night together.

warnings: bruce wayne (battinson) x reader, one use of “fuck”, mention of sex, cheating, drinking

a/n: no use of y/n, physical attributes of protagonist is up to reader’s interpretation, some moments are probably ooc for pattinson’s bruce wayne but i had a visison, probably some typos, also sorry i have my auto-capitalization off, this is my first ever fanfic btw so be nice pls but also very much would love feedback, i got inspired by the song adored by sea girls so listen to that too if you want an idea of the vibe here, edit: here’s the whole playlist if you want

part 1 of 3

…………………………………………………………………………………….

“jumping jack enterprises, how may i help you?”

you’re customer-service voice wasn’t in full-swing today. it was a long night with your boyfriend, john, and you just wanted friday to end. it was another night of screaming and fighting and you didn’t know how you’d make it through this. you loved him, but you’re starting to wonder if that’s enough. you’ve been trying to convince yourself that it’s only recently starting being rocky between the two of you, but the truth is you’re not sure anymore why you’re even still together.

you’ve been together 4 years now, it’s become your new normal to come home to john. to see him at his armchair by the fireplace, drinking a cocktail and reading one of his pretentious novels. but you’re only realizing now that what you thought was affection is just infatuation. the spark is gone. the honeymoon phase is over, if it ever was there to begin with.

“let me direct you to our marketing department and they’ll get you the help you’re looking for.”

you hang up the phone and glance again at the clock. 4:51. nine minutes to go until you’re able to go back home to what will probably be another night of senseless arguing.

you start to pack up your things and then the door swings open. you sigh, annoyed that someone’s come in this late to closing. but you look up to see bruce wayne. bruce wayne? what is he doing here?

“can you show me to jack bill’s office please?” he asks in a low voice.

“mr. bill is out today, actually. he’ll be back monday afternoon.”

“can you leave this for him then?” he hands you a yellow envelope, with nothing but mr. bill’s name on it.

“um sure thing, mr. wayne. is there anything else i can help you with?” you ask, hoping you’re voice doesn’t sound as shaky as you think it does.

“no, thank you.” he turns and leaves the way he came.

“have a nice day…” and the door shuts.

that was strange. what did bruce wayne need to see mr. bill for? and why leave such a mysterious envelope like that? you try not to think too deeply into it as you finish gathering your things and shutting down the computers to leave.

your phone buzzes. it’s john. he’s leaving for the weekend, to see his brother. to clear his head. to think things through. even though you should feel upset, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief at not having to fight again, at least for a few days.

you decide instead of going home to mope, you head to a local bar. you can’t remember the last time you went drinking alone. in fact, you can’t remember the last time you went drinking at all. maybe it’ll be good, a change of scenery.

you hail a taxi and ask to be taken to the jade jewel. the car zips through traffic and fights off the rain as you make your way to the bar.

you’re there, and you feel a sudden wave of anxiety. maybe this isn’t a good idea. alcohol is probably not what you need right now. but the taxi’s already left to find another fare, and now you’re stuck, in your work clothes, at the only bar in town your mind could conjure up. you reluctantly walk in and get a table.

the bar is not how you remember it. it’s now more of a chill jazz club. okay, maybe this will actually be good.

you order an old fashioned and listen to the live music, the piano and the bass intertwining to make beautiful melodies. time seems to stand still as you’re lightly swaying along in your seat to the music. turns out, this is exactly what you needed.

you don’t pay attention to how long you’ve been sitting there, but it seems to be a while as people are starting to leave. the door opens and closes as couples file out to go home, but then you see out of the corner of your eye a familiar face. before you can fully register who it is, he’s waking over to your table.

“you work at jumping jack right? i saw you there today, gave you that message for mr. bill.”

“yeah, that was me. i didn’t know you came around here.”

“it’s one of the few places i can go without worrying about the press. if no one expects you to be here, then they won’t look for you here.”

“that makes sense i suppose.”

“i apologize for leaving in that way. i didn’t want to keep you there too late.”

“it’s okay, i was just confused about the envelope.”

“it’s just a letter letting him know about a potential merger. he’s done some great research that i think we could both benefit from if we work together.”

“yeah that sounds like a great opportunity for him.”

he just nods slightly as he sits there, and the two of you turn to watch the band play.

the now mostly empty bar becomes quiet for a moment as the band switches songs. you and bruce lock eyes, and for a brief second, you get butterflies in your stomach. he lightly smiles at you and you smile back. then the music picks up again, a slow tempo, romantic song. bruce holds his hand out across the table.

“would you like to dance?”

you pause for a moment, confused by his question. bruce wayne does not seem like the dancing type. but you have one and a half drinks in you and without thinking anymore, you smile softly and nod. he takes your hand and you both get up from the table, moving over closer to the stage. he has one hand around you, pressing against your back and the other hand is holding yours. you sway slowly together, to the beat of the jazz band’s tune. after a minute of this, he slowly guides his hand lower down the small of your back and brings you in closer. you’re pressed against each other, tightly, as you two dance in the lowlight of the bar. you haven’t felt like this in a long time. john never danced with you, even when the relationship was at its best. after what seems like forever, the song ends. but you stay holding onto each other. you turn to look up at him and he’s looking at you too.

“the music’s stopped” you say quietly.

“i know.” he says even softer.

…

the sunlight pries your eyelids open as you blink to wake up. morning. saturday. you breathe in deep and let out a sigh.

bruce lays beside you, still snoring softly. you want to feel guilty. for fucks sake you’re waking up with bruce wayne next to you, in the bed you share with your boyfriend of 4 years.

but you don’t. because you just had the best night in a long time. you slowly get up out of bed and throw bruce’s shirt on. as you make your way to the kitchen, you can’t help but smile a bit.

you scoop the coffee grounds into the filter and pour some water in the machine, letting the bubbling of the coffee maker lull you into a daze. you just keep replaying the night you just had over and over. the music, the dancing, the sex. you can’t even remember the last time you and john had sex. you think of john, at his brother’s house, looking out the window at the same morning sky you’re seeing now. you start to feel a bit of guilt creep in when the coffee finishes brewing, and you pour a cup. you sit in the armchair, the same one john sits in, and sip. you force yourself to not think of john, to think of anything, just enjoy the coffee as it warms you up.

your daze is suddenly broken when you hear the sound of liquid pouring. you turn and bruce is making himself a cup. he’s wearing nothing but his underwear as he makes his way toward you. he leans down and you kiss him.

this is what you want to feel, right? an aching, longing feeling, like you miss him even though he’s right beside you. bruce sits in the chair next to you, and the two of you just drink the coffee, no words exchanged.

this is how you want your mornings to be. this is how you want to be.

adored.

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#bruce wayne #battinson #the batman #robert pattinson #fanfic #bruce wayne x reader #first fanfic #pictures from pinterest #part 1 #part 1 of 3 #batman #batman x reader

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bl-bam-beyond · 1 year ago

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LOVE IN TRANSLATION (2023, THAILAND)

Episode 6

Phumjai (KANTAPON JINDATAWEEPHOL aka OFFROAD) and Yang (PITTAYA SAECHUA aka DAOU) become boyfriends and commence with "making up" all over their supermarket.

@pose4photoml @lutawolf @wanderlust-in-my-soul @bengiyo

#BL-BAM-BEYOND FAMILY OF BLOGS #PART 1 OF 3 #LOVE IN TRANSLATION #EPISODE 6 #BUSINESS PARTNER BOYFRIENDS MAKE UP #VERY ENTHUSIASTIC MAKE UP #THAI BL SERIES #ONLY 2 EPISODES LEFT #I DON'T WANT THIS TO END #My GIFS #MYGIFSET #MY-GIF-EDIT

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faery-wizard · 2 years ago

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btw just so you know but if a warlockgirl was REALLY sleepy she would say "damn. could really go for a hexpresso right about now"

#part 1 of 3 #wizardposting #wizard #shitpost

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shu-box-puns · 1 year ago

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Shell-Shocked

(Neteyam X Reader)

Part 1 -> Next Chapter

If you prefer to read on Ao3, you can find the fic here!

Summary: Shells appear whenever you’re around Neteyam.

Word Count: 8229

This is a Metkayina Reader and they use they/them pronouns.

A little snack to keep you all entertained until Ao3 is revived :)))))

Y/n was terrifying. And after the horrors of war that Neteyam had witnessed, he did not admit that to himself lightly.

Maybe it was the fact that regardless of what he did or what jokes he cracked, they never seemed to warm to him.

Or perhaps it was the permanent scowl carved into their features. Or their short, authoritative way of speaking. There was no warmth in them, not that he could decipher anyway. They watched blankly from the water, whilst Tsireya explained today’s lesson, eyes scanning the village as their tail idly swayed the waves.

There was just something about them. The quiet but dominating way in which they held themselves. How they commanded all of his attention despite standing behind both Roxto and Tsireya, who Neteyam really should be paying attention to instead.

How their eyes were piercing, picking apart weakness within seconds. So large and breathtaking, but closed off and emotionless. Neteyam couldn’t read them. Their face was a blank slate to him. He couldn’t tell when they were genuinely mad at him or if they were teasing.

Tsireya clapped her hands, smiling wide and Neteyam blinked. His siblings made to follow her into the shallow cove, leaving Neteyam standing on the beach like an idiot. He was quick to fall into step beside Lo’ak, Kiri attempting to reign in Tuk who had already rushed to Roxto’s side.

His brother barely spared him a glance - too infatuated with Tsireya’s warmth as she beconned him over. Which left Neteyam wandering aimlessly into the water, the last of the Metkayina watching him with disinterest.

<”Let us begin.”> They said simply as he approached. They didn’t bother waiting for his response as they turned and waded further into the waves, hollering to an ilu as they went. Neteyam followed, and the lesson progressed with as little talking as was strictly necessary.

And here he was, sweating bullets astride an ilu that was just as agitated as him.

Y/n had barely explained the mechanics of riding the animal before ordering him to clamber on and start practising.

Their grip was firm on him, adjusting his limbs into the correct mount position. Those eyes critical and their ears perked. This close, Neteyam could tell they weren’t much older than him, and yet, he wouldn’t be surprised if they were close to passing their rite. The way they held themselves had his back instinctively straightening, which in turn hindered how he held himself in the saddle.

They would tut quietly to themselves, making Neteyam flush as his hands were swiftly repositioned by those strong fingers. The ilu chirped between Neteyam’s thighs, and Y/n was quick to soothe it with a gentle pat to the side of its head. Neteyam could feel the touch through the bond and shared in the ilu’s resulting calmness.

They stepped back, and Neteyam stubbornly kept his head facing forwards. Absently, they nodded to themselves once, seemingly approving of his positioning.

<”Now, go with the ilu.”> They explained, mimicking the motion with their hands. <”Dive.”>

The word flickered across Neteyam’s mind and in an instant the ilu was doing just that. Plunging forward and down into the icy depths of the cove with little to no warning. Neteyam’s eyes bugged as he stubbornly choked down what little air he could suck in before the crystal blue waves closed over his face. Panic had the ilu kicking up its pace. Racing away at a speed that had Neteyam’s fingers slipping and unwillingly releasing the harness.

He was swept off his mount’s back in a current of bubbles, his kuru yanking free.

Neteyam came up spluttering, his braids obscuring his view. He struggled to swipe them away, ears flapping in distress as he realised the ilu had left him in a spot where he couldn’t reach the floor. His head kept dipping jerkily beneath the waves in his panic, water rushing up his nose and blurring his vision.

Unexpectedly, a strong hand wrapped around his bicep, unrelenting as he was lifted through the water and held above it. Neteyam sucked in a much needed breath. He turned in place, peering through his obscured view to find Y/n nodding silently to themselves as they effortlessly tread water. Grip still firm, they swam back towards the shelf of rock they’d been standing on with a few powerful swipes of their wide tail.

<”That was better than yesterday.”> Y/n told him as they dragged him up onto the rock behind them. Neteyam scrambled to find his feet, sensing a ‘but’ on the horizon. <”You held on longer than Lo’ak. As expected from-”>

Whatever else they were going to say died on their lips as Neteyam’s ilu sidled back up to their side. For the first time that morning, Neteyam watched genuine surprise melt away the mask of neutral indifference.

The ilu seemed to grin back at them, chirping merrily and presenting the motionless na’vi with a gorgeous, bright pink shell. Y/n’s hands visibly shook as they took it from the animal, who squeaked proudly. They seemed to get lost in inspecting the pretty shell, turning it over and over, examining it with a flush. Their nose was scrunched as if it smelled awful, but all Neteyam could smell was the salt of the sea accompanied by the bitter undertones of seaweed. Nothing that would warrant such a look of disgust.

Curiosity got the better of him as he carefully stepped closer, ears pricked in interest at the small gift. Y/n visibly jumped as his shadow fell over the shell, hands snatching it back and their eyes wide as if caught doing something they weren’t supposed to.

His eyes found theirs and stayed.

They blinked.

And the spell was broken.

The na’vi looked back down at the pink surface of the shell, their expression pinched. Then their face hardened, and with a sigh, they dropped the shell into the water off the edge of the ledge. Neteyam couldn’t help but watch it go, eyes transfixed by the beautiful dips and weaves of the thing as it slipped out of sight. Dragged down by its own weight.

<”You sit too tall in the saddle,”> the metkayina snapped unexpectedly, dragging Neteyam back to the task at hand and rekindling his unease from before. <”It creates too much resistance. You need to lean closer to your ilu’s back.”> He was nodding along again, watching dumbly as they called to his ilu and coaxed it into staying put whilst he climbed on. Before he knows it, he’s being guided back into the correct sitting position and being ordered to dive.

This time he manages to hold on a little longer.

>_<

The shells were everywhere.

Wherever the oldest Sully boy was, the blasted shells were too. And they were PINK of all colours. And only getting brighter. Always around Neteyam, and only around Neteyam. There was no doubt in your mind who Eywa was nudging you towards.

Since that first riding lesson, more and more of the pretty little things had been washing up around you. They got caught in your hair whilst you helped teach breathing lessons with the Sully children. When fishing, the shells got caught in your nets, tearing through the fine fibres.

It was infuriating, but you kept every single one.

Even that first, baby pink shell, which you had gone back to the cove for after handing Neteyam off to Tsireya for the breathing portion of the lesson. It had taken countless dives and plenty of rooting around in the pebbly bottom of the training grounds, but eventually you found it and snatched it up.

It had been the first of many shells to find a home on the topmost shelf of your pod. Tucked out of sight, but not forgotten. A dirty little secret that pulled at the edges of your mind and distracted you from your tasks.

>_<

After those first few riding lessons, you began to see the oldest Sully more and more often. Neteyam was constantly asking for extra tips, never quite meeting your eye as he explained that he feared he was falling behind his siblings and needed to improve.

Initially, you wanted to turn him down. It was annoying to be constantly pulled away from your duties, especially since your participation in the lessons only happened because Aonung was being a child, and Tsireya needed both you and Roxto to help babysit so none of the Sullys accidentally drowned themselves.

However, with Aonung constantly disappearing to get out of teaching them, Tsireya openly flirting with the younger brother and Roxto being preoccupied with Kiri, you found that you had no choice other than to help Neteyam. If you didn’t and it wasn’t evident he was improving, you feared what Ronal would say.

Useless students reflected poorly on their teachers after all.

In the beginning, it was simply a couple hours spent teaching him how to properly breathe. Time spent on the rocky outcrops overlooking the reef, soaking up the afternoon sun and breathing in time with the waves. Neteyam would sit a little way away, eyes clenched shut as he focused on his heartbeat, trying to relax. You found that if you brought something else to do, like mending, he would relax much easier without your gaze on him.

Then the breathing became extra ilu riding classes.

And at some point, it turned into just hanging out for the hell of it.

You would spend your mornings carrying out your usual duties, before helping Tsireya with the Sully children’s lessons after the sun crawled past noon. Then during your free time, like clockwork, Neteyam would turn up sprouting some lame excuse about practice.

You began looking forward to your daily time spent together. You found yourself excited to hear his stories about the forest, in exploring the islands and messing around in the waves together. A warmth filled you whenever you found a pink shell now. And you privately agreed with Eywa that her choice for you had been accurate.

Neteyam was in all sense of the word, perfect. Easy to be around and fast to learn. Driven by his need to prove himself, whilst not allowing his own goals to consume him. Your time spent with him was pleasant, and in many ways, you never ran out of things to discuss or complain about.

You loved Aonung and Tsireya, they were like your siblings, but you were very different people. Tsireya was warm to strangers where you were cold and wary. Aonung believed himself to be too young to take his future position in the clan seriously. And then there was you, constantly keeping him in line and struggling to find your place with your iknimaya fast approaching.

Neteyam was your escape. And a lot of the time, you privately believed you were his too.

Even from a distance, you could see the heaviness of the responsibility his father placed on his shoulders. And although Neteyam carried it with his chin high and his shoulders back, you could tell he was weary. Alongside learning an entirely fresh skill set, he was tasked with looking after his siblings. The hours you spent beyond the village together, was the only time you saw him truly relax.

Before you knew it, he had mastered the ilu and you began teaching him how to dive. How to work the currents of the cove and remain underwater for longer periods of time.

With the sun as your witness, the pair of you spent countless afternoons exploring the colourful reefs all around the island. You watched with a private smile as he stared in awe at the countless fish, his useless tail working furiously to move but getting him nowhere. More often than not, you’d find yourself grabbing his hand to move him along faster. And he’d hold on tight, grinning brightly as your powerful tail cut through the water and made you reach speeds he could not achieve on his own.

His breathing still needed work, but you found you didn’t hate the frequent breaks between dives. Especially when he’d take the time to pull pink shells from your hair, commenting on how they seemed to love you considering how frequently he found them on your person. You would simply roll your eyes at the comment, playfully trying to snatch it from him, only for Neteyam to grin mischievously and hold it out of your reach.

You thought the unspoken spark between you had bloomed into an understanding. Perhaps even a connection.

And as such, you took it upon yourself to honour Eywa’s suggestion.

You began working hard on your courting gift.

It took countless moons. Several sessions with Ronal to renew your weaving skills and enduring her knowing looks. And a few nights of you stuffing the gift into your hammock and shoving Neteyam back out of your pod when he unexpectedly invited himself in.

He’d laugh at your antics, perhaps tease you if he was in the right mood, before inviting you out for a night time swim. Considering how gorgeous your island home was at eclipse, you could never deny him.

Finally, your courting gift was almost complete.

You grinned as you examined your knot work. It had taken you several days of sorting through the pink shells Eywa had gifted you and weaving them into the neck piece how you wanted, but it looked alright. You had hand woven the cord, ensuring it was strong enough to withstand the might of the sea. Had hand picked the shells from your shelf, selecting them for their appearance in the sunlight as well as their bioluminescent glow.

Leaning back in your hammock, you slid a critical eye along the piece. Frowning at the tight knots and the uneven gaps between the shells which gave them a little too much room to slide around. It looked shabby, maybe a little pathetic.

Absently, you considered stopping by Tsireya’s marui to ask for her help in improving the stitches, but then thought better of it. Around this time, the Olo’eyktan’s family would be sitting down to dinner, and although Tsireya’s skill would greatly improve the gift, you wanted it to be firmly your own work. If you were going to do this, it was gonna be because you earned it, not because you took the easy way out.

You would give it to him like this. You decided, slipping out of your hammock. It just meant the next stage - after you passed your iknimaya - needed to be impeccable.

Nodding to yourself, you held the necklace carefully at your side so as not to draw attention to it whilst you walked the short distance from your pod to the Sully residence. Judging by the position of the sun the family wouldn’t be eating for another hour, so there was plenty of time to grab Neteyam and drag him off to somewhere more private.

With Eywa as your witness, you soundlessly approached the Sully pod, your ears pricked in order to figure out how many witnesses you were about to have. The walkway creaked softly underfoot as you paused just short of the entrance, your hand raised to knock on the wooden support when Lo’ak’s voice distracted you.

<”Come on bro!”> The younger brother begged, and your hand froze where it hovered.

<”No!”> Neteyam immediately hissed, sounding exhausted once again. Your frowned, mind already decided on where you’d take him to work off that restless energy. He had seemed alright during training this morning, but perhaps it had been a trying day keeping Lo’ak in line; again.

Curiously, you poked your eye around the doorframe to find Lo’ak hanging off of Neteyam’s arm like he was four years old, whilst Neteyam stood there, expression deadpanned as if this was a common occurrence. The older boy’s tail was swaying, expression unamused as Kiri fumbled around in the background.

<"I already met with them this afternoon. They will think I’m being clinging if I go back before dinner."> Neteyam reasoned, pushing firmly at Lo’ak’s forehead to dislodge him.

Lo’ak playfully snapped his teeth the motion but wasn’t deterred. Not even by Neteyam wiggling free and turning his back to unroll his hammock.

The younger boy watched, tail flicking mischeviously as he geared up. <”But it’ll only be for a couple hours.”> He argued, giving up on tugging on Neteyam’s arm to instead standing in the way of where Neteyam wanted to hang up his hammock. The older boy huffed again, leaning around him to fasten the sheet onto the low hanging hook. <"I wanted to take Tsireya out after the eclipse tonight.">

Neteyam didn’t look up from his task as he replied reflexively, <”you took her out yesterday.”> <”I know, but I promised to show her a spot I found further inland.”>

<”I want to sleep Lo’ak, it’s been a long day.”> Neteyam groaned, still focused on the task at hand as he began unrolling the rest of the hammock to hook the bottom onto the central support beam. His tail was still thrashing, a motion only made more sharp by the sound of shells clattered out of the rolled up fabric. He froze in place and you felt your heart pound at the dozens of pink shells that tumbled out across the floor.

Neteyam cursed in the Sky Person language. Hissing something about his younger sister, to which Kiri giggled but didn’t bother to help.

Completely ignoring the mess, Lo’ak was still talking.

<”Come on bro! I know they scare you shitless, but I NEED this.”> Lo’ak argued, and you felt your brow furrow. <”I'm not going to get anywhere with Tsireya if her guard dog is glaring at me the whole time.”>

Neteyam bristled, gaze narrowing as your heart sank. It didn’t take a genius to know who Lo’ak was referring to.

<”You sound pathetic Lo’ak.”> Kiri interjected from across the fire.

<”Shut up, no one asked you.”> Lo’ak fired back on reflex, before returning his attention to his brother. <”Come on Neteyam, just once more. We’re so close to being friends, I can feel it. Then I won’t have to worry about them chasing me off for breathing wrong.”>

<”Coward.”> Kiri interjected again. <”Don’t you think Neteyam has other shit to do than distract Y/n?”>

Neteyam’s head snapped towards his sister at that. <”I am not distracting them-”> <”Alright.”> She acknowledged, then turned back to Lo’ak. <”Aren’t you ashamed of sacrificing your only brother so you can get some local tail?”>

<”Kiri!”> Neteyam reprimanded at the same time Lo’ak confidently said,<”Nope.”>

The pod briefly lapsed into silence as Neteyam finished fixing his hammock and purposefully brushing the pink shells onto the floor. Your stomach dropped painfully with every sharp thump of them striking the woven floor, chest tightening painfully as Neteyam’s foot crushed one as he shifted his weight.

<”I will see what I can do.”> The boy said quietly.

Lo’ak promptly cheered and you felt bile rise up the back of your throat.

With an audible swallow you stepped away from the pod entrance, the necklace at your side now hanging limply like a severed limb. Your feet kept backing up, your ears falling lower and lower as realisation hit you like a fallen tree to the head.

You almost laughed at your own stupidity.

At the classic mistake of getting swept up in your own head and being blind to what was truly in front of you. Of getting so excited about making a friend, of FINALLY getting signs of Eywa, that you stopped seeing. Stopped thinking.

Obviously, Neteyam wasn’t seeking you out because he enjoyed your company. It was a favour for Lo’ak.

Neteyam didn’t care for you. Until a couple weeks ago, he couldn’t even look you in the eye. He’d been clearly uncomfortable in your presence, and your idiot self had interpreted that discomfort for bashfulness. The shells had tinted your eyes pink as well as swaying your heart.

And better yet, he was scared of you. Friends were not scared of their friends. And soulmates certainly didn’t fear one another.

Your tail had stopped swaying, falling still as your eyes stung.

Stupid.

So incredibly stupid and naive.

You were a year away from passing your iknimaya and here you were, looming outside of someone’s hut, the personification of your heart in your hands, and listening to the subject of your affection practically confess that he only spent time with you to get you out of the picture. As a favour to his brother no less!

You expected this kind of naivety from a village kid half your age.

The sadness and shock rapidly morphed into a hot slice of anger. Your limp fingers clenched into a fist, eyes hardening as your gaze snapped to the necklace at your side.

You were a fool.

The kind of lovesick fool who put countless hours into a shitty gift that would never be worn. What a pathetic waste of resources.

That irrational anger took hold again. Your tail thrashing uncontrollably as your gaze slipped from the pathetic courting gift to the open ocean.

Internally, you cursed Eywa for making a fool of you. For pretending to give you someone, only to cruelly remind you why she thought it best that you remain alone.

It was easy to draw back your arm, but harder to let go as your fist swung forward intending to hurl the stupid thing into the water. Your fist didn’t let go. You tried again. This time, you made yourself recall the words Lo’ak had spoken. Neteyam’s quiet confirmation. His heavy sigh. The tired slope of his shoulders as he resigned himself to another exhausting night in your presence. The crunch of that blasted shell beneath his foot, the crack of which had echoed as if it were your own heart getting shattered. You ensured your rage was burning bright as you hurled the ridiculous necklace into the ocean with all you had.

It hit the water with a soft plop, floated there for a moment, before the ocean welcomed your discarded gift and dragged it down and out of sight.

You did not feel better.

<”Shit.”> Someone gasped at your back. You turned, expression thunderous.

Lo’ak was retreating back into the pod, eyes glued to your own as if your presence alone terrified him. You simply watched him retreat, eyes cold and your tail thrashing.

He turned slowly. <”Neteyam. Your friend is here to pick you up.”> He yelled over his shoulder, gaze refusing to break.

You scoffed. If you saw that scheming coward, you didn’t know what you’d do. Maybe you’d punch him, or you’d break down and start crying.

Regardless, you didn’t want to find out. Turning sharply on your heel, you stormed back the way you’d come. The rhythmic bounce of the walkway greatly decreased the heavy fall of your feet, but the firm set of your shoulders didn’t make the stride feel too comical.

Clearly, your tense shoulders and the clench of your fists was not clear enough an indicator of your current mood, because Neteyam jogged up to you like nothing was wrong. He fell easily into step beside you, and you hated how used to his presence you had gotten. How right it felt for his taller frame to appear at your side and remain there.

<”-didn’t realise we made plans-”> He rambled, although you gave no indication that you were listening. Your eyes flickered to the edge of the walkway, mentally judging how far you could jump compared to him to put distance between you that way. The minute you hit the water, you’d have the advantage. But he could leap further than you, and you’d witnessed his jumping ONTO Lo’ak once when the younger boy tried to escape him that way.

<”Hey? Are you listening to me?”>

His hand gently tapped your shoulder and you instinctively shoved him away from you, mentally hating how badly you craved that touch.

Neteyam froze, eyes wide at the out of character reaction. You’d NEVER shoved him before, and doing so now made your stomach recoil uncomfortably. But he had backed off now. Looking shocked with his stupidly cute face, and his stupid swaying braids and his stupid little shocked expression. His stupid glowing freckles that you spent one night tracing with your finger, locating all the hidden constellations and remarking on how pretty they were.

It took every ounce of control you possessed to smooth out your expression. To stop baring your teeth and simple tell him straight up.

<”No.”>

He blinked. Taken aback by the hostile tone. <”What happened?”>

You laughed, the sound strangled and humourless, then kept walking. Your pace picked up, shoulder bunching around your shoulders.

<”Y/n?”> Neteyam called to your back. His hand reached for you again, long fingers winding around your bicep in an attempt to turn you to face him. <”Are you okay-”>

The minute that warm touch made contact, you spun, ripping yourself from his grip with speed that was startling. <”Do not touch me!”> You growled threateningly.

His concerned expression floundered, eyes widening comically as if he were staring down a pissed off akula. It practically confirmed all your accusations. You could see the fear in the slight shake of his palm, in his uncertainty at how to continue.

This time, you were not blind to the evidence displayed so clearly at your feet.

With control that came from your training, you fought to smooth out your posture as you forced yourself to relax. <”I am going for a swim.”> You said evenly, forcing your shoulders to loosen. <”Tell Lo’ak he has until sunrise to flirt his little heart out.”> <”Lo’ak? Why are you pissed at Lo’ak?”> The fear melted into confusion.

<”We’re done here.”> You replied with, <”go to Roxto for lessons. I’m done dealing with you.”> His ears fell at that. The confusion morphing into raw hurt. His mouth opened to retaliate, but no words came out. You watched him shrink before his eyes. You saw his bravado melt away into the shell of some shy kid that couldn’t get their tongue to cooperate. You almost pitied him.

This time when you tried to leave, he did not stop you.

>_<

Keeping your distance from Neteyam was harder than you anticipated.

If you weren't making a conscious effort to try, you'd find yourself instinctively gravitating towards him regardless. Only to be reminded of why exactly you were avoiding him. It was hard to remember, but you managed.

The only time you couldn’t outright escape him was during lessons. Of course by now Aonung had been roped into helping out, but Tsireya still needed your support. You were the oldest of the friend group and therefore more experienced in finding the flaws in someone’s form and how best to correct it.

That morning after the fight, you had attempted to remain in your pod, but she had come looking for you like she always did when you tried to retreat into yourself. She had let herself into your home only to find you curled up in your hammock, arms wound around yourself and your eyes staring into nothing.

She had called your name. Gently touched your shoulder. Startled, you swung your gaze up to her, expecting to find Neteyam asking for another one on one lesson, only for your heart to sink at her kind smile instead.

<”It’s time to get up.”> She said cheerfully, politely not mentioning your puffy eyes or the lack of pink shells littered around your home. After stumbling home the night before, you’d scooped up every morsel of physical evidence you could find and promptly dumped them into the sea, where the current whisked them out of view.

<”I want to sleep in today.”> You told her bluntly, ready to nestle back down and forget about the world for a bit.

<”And I would love to let you.”> She soothed, <”but Aonung and Lo’ak are at each other’s throats again and I can’t figure out how to get Tuk to breath correctly.”>

<”And you left Roxto in charge?”>

<”I left Roxto in charge.”> She confirmed.

That got you rolling out of your hammock. <”They are gonna eat the poor boy for breakfast.”>

She prepared a snack whilst you changed, made sure your hair was where it should be as you ate, and then dragged you out into the sunlight where the clan was pausing for lunch. You were pleasantly surprised to find your various tasks already completed as she dragged you across the village to the training grounds.

<”Aonung and I figured you’d needed a break.”> Tsireya explained kindly when she caught you staring at the buckets full of fish you were supposed to have collected yourself at dawn. <”You’ve been training so hard for you iknimaya and helping me with the Sullys, we thought you deserved it.”> You could only nod, silently assuming it had been Tsireya’s idea and she’d blackmailed Aonung into helping out so Ronal didn’t skin you for slacking. Although they would have had no way of knowing what had happened last night, you were warmed by the kind gesture.

Surprisingly, nothing was on fire as you approached the training grounds. Kiri and Neteyam were already practising diligently, whilst Roxto attempted to diffuse a yelling match between Aonung and Lo’ak. Little Tuk was still sitting on the beach, looking adorable as she studied some green shells.

<”You help Tuk. I’ll get Aonung.”> Tsireya said over her shoulder before dropping your arm and charging into the water to wrangle her brother.

Dumbly, you stood on the shore, feeling raw and useless in the face of the ease of the group. Your arms hung loosely at your sides as your eyes tracked the movements of the ilus beneath the waves. Kiri was in her element astride the beast, whilst Neteyam was doing visibly better than when he came to the reef.

It took great effort to turn away and focus on the task at hand, but you managed.

Keeping your footsteps light, you carefully approached Tuktirey. She glanced up as your shadow fell over her. Her ears pricked, as large eyes following the length of your body up until her gaze met yourself. <”Hello!”> She greeted enthusiastically and you forced a smile.

You greeted her in turn, dropping into a crouch before her. <”Tsireya tells me you’re having some trouble staying under the water?”> Her little brows furrowed. <”No.”> <”No?”> You parroted.

<”I’m the best.”> Tuk returned confidently. <”Roxto said I’m a better swimmer than Aonung.”>

You had to bite back a smile at Roxto’s cleverness. <”I believe you. Aonung looks like a dead ilu with how slowly he moves beneath the waves.”>

Speaking of, Aonung and Lo’ak were still going at it, with Tsireya looking comically tiny between them, a hand on either boy’s chest to keep them from flying at one another. Roxto stood off to the side, hands on his hips and his expression annoyed as he watched the pair bicker. It was clear they were having no success in diffusing the situation.

<”AONUNG!”>

Your voice rang out across the bay, sharp and as authoritative as you could muster. The boy abruptly froze, his shoulders hiked up to his ears. Slowly, he turned to make eye contact, already wincing. You let your irritation shine through, tail thrashing unhappily. He shot Lo’ak one last venomous glare before grabbing Roxto’s forearm and dragging him into the waves.

Tsireya was quick to place a delicate hand on Lo’ak’s shoulder, her face kind as he glanced to her. You watched the tension bleed out of him, how his ears pricked as she spoke. How he seemed to relax under her gaze, the way he reached for her in turn, tail wagging.

Your stomach tightened at the sight of them. How in tune they were. If anyone should be seeing pink shells, you knew it had to be them.

<”What’s wrong with your face?”> Tuk asked innocently, with brutal honesty.

<”There is nothing wrong with my face.”> You replied quickly, tearing your gaze from Tsireya beginning to lead Lo’ak into the surf, their bright expressions mirroring one another. <”But your eyes are all puffy.”> Tuk pointed out, <”and you look really said.”> <”I’m not sad.”> You reassured her, forcing a tight smile onto your lips.

Tuk was clearly not convinced as she continued to share her seven year old wisdom. <”When I’m sad, Neteyam always gives me hugs.”> <”That’s very nice of him.”> You told her, before struggling to steer the conversation away from her brother. <”Why don’t we go find some more pretty shells in the water?”> <”Will that help you feel better?”> Tuk asked, and when you nodded, her expression brightened. <”Okay!”> She chirped, launching herself to her feet before dragging you into the water.

>_<

<”Why are you still sulking?”> Aonung asked from your pod doorway, later that evening.

<”‘m not sulking.”>

He didn’t dignify the lame utterance with a response. Judgmentally, he ducked into the pod, eyes raking over your messy living space and the pot bubbling away at your elbow.

Ignoring his blatant curiosity, you focused on preparing some rainbow clams you’d foraged earlier for the pot. They would pair nicely with some fruit that Tsireya had dropped off yesterday.

<”You’re retreating from us. Why?”> Head bent over your work, you continued to wedge your knife between the stubborn shells of the clam.

<”’m not.”>

And you’d made a conscious effort not to. Especially not from Aonung and Tsireya, not when you’d known them since childhood. It was simply because whenever you had a spare moment with them, Neteyam would show up like clockwork.

You hadn’t really noticed before how present Neteyam had become in your daily life. How he had a tendency to wander up to whoever you were talking with. You hadn’t realised how often he spoke with Tsireya and Roxto either. Or how much you’d begun to share chores until you’d turned to ask for his help in untangling the nets, only to remember you’d purposefully started working in a part of the village you didn’t normally frequent so he couldn’t find you.

It was childish really. But surely Aonung hadn’t noticed a change in your behaviour so quickly.

The boy in question hummed thoughtfully. He approached on quiet feet, padding across your mats to sit down heavily across from you. In silence, he watched you work through a couple more clams before deciding enough was enough.

With surprising gentleness for a boy like Aonung, the younger na’vi reached across the space between you and stilled your knife hand. The confidence in the motion surprised you enough that you glanced up at him.

His ears were lying low, head tilted with an expression on his face that practically mirrored Tonowari. The warmth in his eyes practically melted away your defences.

<”What happened?”>

He asked simply. Level and kind. It made you want to hide.

The fact he was looking at you with undivided attention made you squirm. You were so used to shying away from such gentle concern, to taking on the brunt of any situation and shoving forward regardless, that the sudden attentiveness made you uncomfortable. In truth, you wanted to admit what had been bothering you. But a tiny nugget of your soul didn’t want to express vulnerability to someone who looked up to you.

At a younger age, Aonung had proudly declared you an older sibling. He hadn’t been shy in referring to you as such, in following your lead. And in turn, you’d been more than happy to look out for both him and Tsireya. This was not something for him to shoulder however.

Slowly, you slipped your knife hand out of his grasp and returned to prying open the clam shells. <”Nothing happened.”> You said with more certainty than you felt.

<”If it was nothing, then you wouldn’t be hiding instead of mucking around in the shallows with the Sully boy.”> Aonung pointed out.

<”Shouldn’t you be out training with Tonowari?”> <”Shouldn’t you stop deflecting now that you’ve been caught?”> <”Becoming Olo’eyktan requires training.”>

<”Lying requires being believable.”> <”Asshole.”> You offered half heartedly, not that Aonung took it to heart. Instead, he kept that same knowing look, that same gentle tone. <”Dad sent me to come check on you.”> Aonung admitted. <”He’s noticed you’ve been distracted today. He was worried.”>

Great. Just great. At this rate, the entire clan would know your business before the week was up. Eywa, you could already see the sympathetic looks they’d throw you.

A heartbeat of silence in which you picked up a fresh clam after depositing the last into the cooking pot. Aonung let the words hang between you for a heartbeat before pushing more firmly.

<”So, I ask again. Has Neteyam done something?”>

You took a deep, irritated breath. Aonung made a point of making himself comfortable, pulling out his own knife to help deshell the rest of the clams. It was clear he wouldn’t leave without a response. Not unless you physically removed him or his parents came to find him.

Shame heated your cheeks as you dropped your gaze. You could already hear the teasing remarks Aonung would throw at you when you admitted what had happened. Could already see the disgust flickering in his eyes. The curl of his upper lip.

Better to get it out of the way quickly.

<”I made him a courting gift.”>

The words slipped from your lips, taking with it an indescribably weight. You immediately felt lighter, the hunch of your shoulders not so tight.

Aonung seemed to wind up like a spring in comparison.

<”YOU, WHAT?”> He squeaked, practically yelled in your face. <”Yo-you made him a courting gift?”> Hesitantly, you nodded. <”And you didn’t tell me?! Did you tell Tsireya?”> <”No?”>

He relaxed. <”You ballsy akula.”> He laughed good naturedly, giving you a playful shove. <”Why didn’t you say anything? Tsireya could’ve helped you with the weaving, we both know you’re terrible.”>

Snapping your fangs at him jokingly, you tried to hide your relieved smile. <”Focus, Aonung.”>

He shook his head, forcefully wiping the expression of glee off his features. <”Apologies. So why the long face? The hiding? Were you keeping it a secret?”>

<”I didn’t end up giving it to him.”> <”Oh.”> He breathed, discreetly glancing around your pod. You knew he couldn’t find a hint of pink on any shelf or stuffed beneath any hammocks. <”Was it not the right time?”> The tension from before swept in faster than the change of the current. <”I never got the chance to present it to him. Turns out, we’re not even friends. He’s only keeping me occupied so Lo’ak can spend more time with Tsireya.”> You told Aonung simply, unable to meet his eye. <”He’s afraid of me.”>

That finally stunned him into a long, painful silence. His hands completely stilled on the clam, tail falling inanimate.

<“He said that?”> A whisper. Barely a question. <”I overheard him and Lo’ak arguing over it.”>

With a slow, practised motion, Aonung slid his knife back into its sheath. <”And the gift? Where is it?”> <“Tossed it in the sea. I was too embarrassed to take the time to disassemble it.”>

He hummed, sounding distracted, before rising to his feet. Gently, he patted your head, pulling you out of your thoughts. <”I’ll be back.”> He promised before motioning to the cooking pot. <”Leave me a few, would you?”> <”Where are you going?”>

<”I said I’ll be back.”> He replied simply, and crossed the pod to the entry before wordlessly ducking outside into the evening.

Perplexed, you stared after him, mind churning from his silence and sudden departure. Then you recalled the last time a pissed off Aonung had been unleashed on the village. The last victims had been a group of boys who had thought it a good idea to pick on Tsireya, and they’d promptly lost their front teeth and still spoke with whistles.

Groaning softly, you jammed your knife back into its sheath and went after him.

>_<

<”Oi! Forest boy!”> Aonung yelled from behind Neteyam, scaring the boy out of his head. Before he could pull his feet from the water, the walkway at his back drooped under the weight of the other boy and there was a hand on his shoulder, spinning him round. A fist connected with his cheek before he could get out a response.

The force of the blow startled a gasp out of him as he bit his tongue and was thrown clean off the walkway and into the soft glowing water. The sounds of the village were abruptly muffled as Neteyam struggled to orient himself. Then he was kicking for the surface, rage bubbling low in his stomach.

He broke the surface with a greedy inhale, eyes zeroing in on the glowering boy looming above him. Spitting out a mouthful of salty water, Neteyam shook his head to clear the braids from his eyes.

<“What the hell Aonung?”>

A mocking smirk slid onto the younger boy’s face, head tilting dangerously. <”That’s for messing with Y/n, you spineless coward!”> He snarled venomously. Hand falling onto the hilt of his knife at his hip, Neteyam’s eyes followed the motion.

He wasn’t afraid of Aonung. The boy hadn’t yet passed his iknimaya, but Neteyam was conscious of his position in the village. His relations. Also that he was the superior swimmer if he decided jumping on Neteyam was necessary for whatever justice he was trying to carry out.

<”Do you know why they’re upset?”> Neteyam asked hopefully, trying to steer the conversation in a direction that wouldn’t end up with one of them stabbed. Tuk had mentioned that she wanted him to give them a big hug for her. That the Metkayina had been unusually quiet during training today, that she thought they’d been crying.

Neteyam had been looking all over for them. Tuk’s observation just fueling the uncomfortable tightening of his stomach that something had drastically gone wrong. Between the unexpected rage the night before and their odd avoidant behaviour this morning, Neteyam had a constant sinking feeling.

Aonung scoffed. <”Don’t play dumb. They heard everything.”>

That only served to confuse Neteyam more. What could the had possibly-

Oh.

His stomach sank to the bottom of the cove. Shit. Depending on when they’d walking in on that conversation last night, they were either feeling betrayed or he was in incredibly beep shit.

<”How much did they hear?”> Neteyam demanded, praying this situation could be salvaged.

Somewhere deeper within the village, Neteyam could hear Lo’ak’s distinct voice. Yelling at Aonung to no one’s surprise, calling him fish lips and every other insult he knew. English and na’vi. Aonung huffed, oblivious to the younger sully brother rapidly approaching his back. <”They heard what you and Lo’ak were doing. Trying to keep them occupied so your screwup little brother could get in good with MY sister.”>

Oh shit.

<”Aonung. It’s not what you think. Lo’ak-”>

<”Don’t go near them AGAIN!”> Aonung cut in, gaze piercing. <”Or you’ll be far more scared of me than you’ve ever been of them.”>

Scared? Of Y/n?

<”Okay, this-”>

Whatever situation saving speech he was about to give was abruptly disrupted by his bull-headed brother finally arriving on the scene.

<”LO’AK DON’T-!”> Tsireya warned, but it was too late.

<”YOU’LL PAY FOR THAT FISH LIPS!”> Lo’ak shrieked, promptly tackling Aonung around the small of his back and sending both of them off the walkway and down onto Neteyam.

The trio came up spluttering, with Lo’ak still trying to strangle Aonung, and the boy in question snapping his teeth in a very obvious threat that he would chomp through any fingers that got close enough. Neteyam stared at the pair in bewilderment. Slowly processing what Aonung had admitted, and partly amused by Lo’ak willingness to jump in without warning to defend his pride. Then again, the younger boy could simply have been itching for a reason to give Aonung a black eye.

“Lo’ak, get off him.” “But bro-” “Lo’ak!” Neteyam spat more firmly, struggling to look serious whilst treading water. Reluctantly, he obeyed, scooting back so he couldn’t continue to murder Aonung, but remaining between his brother and the boy.

<”Stop speaking in your demon tongue and explain yourself.”>

<”Explain what the hell that was first!”> Lo’ak retorted stubbornly. <”Why the hell are you putting your filthy hands on my brother?”>

The appearance of Tsireya on the lip of the walkway interrupted Aonung’s response. <”Neteyam, are you okay?”> Dumbly, he nodded, watching the tension in Tsireya’s shoulders melt away before she turned a surprisingly sharp glare on her brother. <”What were you thinking? You could have injured someone.”> <”He deserves it!”> Aonung declared childishly, inviting Lo’ak to lunge at him, only for Neteyam to yank him back by his forearm.

Tsireya looked as confused as Neteyam felt. Her voice dripped in sarcasm when she next spoke. <”And how, were you so grievously wronged this time, brother?”>

Ignoring her mockery, Aonung replied sharply, <”Y/n intended to court this asshole, but Lo’ak was just using him to get to you!”>

Court?

<”Court me?”> Neteyam squawked, eyes blown wide. Oh Eywa. This was rapidly becoming a lot of problems tangled into one enormous knot.

<”Not that you deserve anything they could make you!”> Aonung spat.

A fifth and final creak of the walkway signalled someone else racing up to the shitshow. <”Tsireya, have you seen Aonung? He stormed out of my pod and I’m afraid someone is going to lose their teeth.”>

Tsireya stared wide eyed at her friend, tail stone still. Her gaze was glossy. <”You were going to start courting Neteyam?”> She said dumbly.

From his position in the water, Neteyam couldn’t see Y/n, but judging by the silence that followed, they weren’t overly pleased.

It was Tsireya who continued speaking, her voice abruptly kicking up in volume as she practically shrieked, <”YOU’VE BEEN RECEIVING SIGNS FROM EYWA AND DIDN’T TELL ME?”>

<”Hey!”> Y/n immediately retorted, <”you’ve been sneaking off with Lo’ak for Eywa knows how long, so don’t you dare start barrating me about keeping secrets. I had to find out by accident! Do you know how humiliating that is?”>

<”That’s besides the point.”>

<”It is perfectly on point. I bet you’ve been finding pink shells everywhere too!”>

The silence that followed spoke volumes.

Aonung was the one to break it. <”Wait! You’ve both accidentally found your mates and NEGLECTED to mention it?”> The boy demanded, looking royally pissed off as he glared at Neteyam and Lo’ak with equal venom. Neteyam wanted to punch him. <”I can’t believe either of you!”>

Y/n’s head popped over the lip of the walkway, their gaze narrowed dangerously. That expression twisted tighter and tighter as they noticed Neteyam and Lo’ak dripping wet as they treaded water alongside Aonung.

<”THIS is what you ran off to do?”> They demanded, making Aonung dip lower into the water in a fruitless attempt to hide. <”Instigating a water fight instead of helping me finish dinner?”>

<”I was defending your honour.”> Aonung tried to argue.

They rolled their eyes. <”Of course that’s what this is.”>

<”Will you please explain what the hell just happened?”> Lo’ak pipped up. <”Shells, and mates and Aonung losing his shit. What the hell?”>

<”I’ll explain later Lo’ak.”> Tsireya replied calmly, although Neteyam saw the nervous thrash of her tail. <”But first, you need to get out of the water or you’ll catch cold.”> She knelt over the edge of the walkway and offered her hand to Lo’ak, who didn’t hesitate to take it.

<”Aonung.”> The boy glanced up guiltily at Y/n still stood behind Tsireya. <”If you injured anyone, take them to Ronal.”>

Aonung shook his head firmly. <”They can suffer.”>

<”Ronal will skin you if she finds out about this later.”> Was all they offered before sharply turning on their heel and storming off, tail whipping to and fro.

Neteyam watched them go feeling all kinds of confused and tired. This was certainly not what he’d been expecting when Tuk said Y/n was upset. He also he’d foreseen a split lip for his troubles either.

Obediently, he swam closer to the walkway when Tsireya bent back down to offer him her hand. Her expression was pinched as he approached, mind clearly far away.

Neteyam couldn’t help but feel the sentiment. He made to reach for Tsireya’s outstretched hand, Aonung’s irritating muttering falling to the back of his mind, only to be distracted by the soft chirp of an ilu. The water shifted at his side as the animal swam past before circling back.

He recognised the markings of the animal to be the ilu he usually used for training. Elegantly, the animal lifted its head from the waves, something glowing caught between its teeth. Hesitantly, Neteyam reached for it, surprised when the playful creature dropped the item into his outstretched hand with no attempts at jerking it away or making him work for it.

Tsireya made a sad little sound at the sight of the object, and Neteyam glanced up at her in surprise. <”What is it?”> He asked, to which Tsireya’s expression turned guilty.

<”A courting gift.”> She explained softly. <”But I do not recognise it as anything the clan owns. Surely, someone would have noticed if they dropped it.”>

Aonung swam up beside Neteyam, his own face pinched as he looked at the unassuming necklace. Eyes raking down the pink shells accenting traditional metkayina knotwork. <”Y/n said they tossed the gift in the sea, instead of dismantling it like we would normally.”>

<”It’s definitely their work.”> Tsireya confirmed.

Part 1 -> Next Chapter

#Neteyam x Reader #part 1 of 3 #shells #bad omens #Metkayina!Reader #attempts at courting #strangers to friends #idiots in love #misunderstandings #Neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar

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