#Safe Harbor Animal Sanctuary

[fleursbending]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐆𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝. | Neteyam Sully

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 : idk if u write pure angst but, but, but i have a request. what about a neteyam x fem!reader where whenever she is in danger he always manages to get there in time to save her? something like '2 times he's in time and 1 time he's too late' [or almost too late, if u r not in the mood for a bad ending] (?) sorry if this doesn't make sense, english is not my first language :((

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : neteyam x fem!omaticayan reader

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : hi! this request got so much love so here goes nothing. you didn't specify if you wanted the reader to be human or na'vi, so i picked what i thought would best flow with the narrative :3. i slightly deviated from what's canon in the film as well. sorry, this took so long to get out and some of the tags were not working. - once again, feedback is much appreciated. enjoy!! (also i highly suggest listening to waiting room by phoebe bridgers whilst reading this.. i would link it but they took it off spotify).

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : atwow spoilers, injuries, angst, fluff, character death, blood, some cussing, mild gore (descriptive fight scenes), neteyam sickeningly in lword, established relationship, sully family being <3333, heartbreak!!!!! reader is a badass warrior.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 8k words !1!1

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @eywas-library @ghoulbli @ellabellabus07 @loves1ckgirl @your-daily-dose-of-fangirl @keijikunn @nijirozzz @eywas-heir @mymelodynumber1fan @kalims @bammtoli @blahehblah @iloveyomama44 @babamiasworld @rreyysol @stomach-bugg09 @xoxo-periwinkle-skies @23victoria @mashiromochi @grierpilots @buttercake2234 @bwormie @spicycloudsalad @missdreamofendless @neteyamoa @gamorxa

𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐘 :

Thanator - or the Na'vi name Palulukan (meaning "dry mouth bringer of fear") is a carnivorous animal native to the forests of Pandora.

Yawntu - a loved one, lover, beloved person. This is commonly used as a term of endearment.

Woodsprites - or the Na'vi name Atokirina is a seed of the Tree of Souls that lives on Pandora. These seeds, according to the Na'vi, are very pure and sacred spirits.

Skxwang - a person who acts/is a moron or an idiot.

Mawey - a term equivalent to the human version of "stay calm/ be calm".

Awa'atlu -  a Metkayina Clan village off the coast of the Eastern Sea.

Uturu - a Na'vi tradition stating that any refugee seeking sanctuary must be granted safe harbor.

Skimwings - or the Na'vi name: Tsurak is a Pandoran creature inhabiting the tropical oceans. The Metkayina clan and other reef clans use the Skimwing for hunting larger prey at the surface or to dive deeper. It is also used as a mount during combat.

Melìew - your mother's name in this story.

Olo'eyktan - the clan leader is one of the most important members of a Na'vi clan and is similar to a chieftain. The leader is in charge of the clan and may rule along with their mate.

Tsahìk - the spiritual leader of a Na'vi clan, and the most important member next to the clan leader. The job of the Tsahìk is to interpret the will of Eywa, guide the clan spiritually, and perform important ceremonies such as Uniltaron and, in rare cases, the consciousness transfer.

Tulkun - a large, intelligent marine species native to the oceans of Pandora. Each Metkayina member engages a lifelong bond with a tulkun early in their life, whom they call their spirit brother/sister.

Payakan - Payakan is a young tulkun who befriends Lo'ak, one of Jake Sully and Neytiri's children, after saving his life.

Neteyam and yourself were a force to reckon with. Your souls are intertwined and saved for one another. It was unspoken throughout the clan that you would be each other's mates when the right time came. An official seal, partners for a lifetime - even once your spirit settles with Eywa.

That's how it was supposed to be.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄.

𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, he had been worried that due to his father's insistent training, he would have missed the date you'd planned. As he made his way through the clearing of your "secret spot", he immediately halted. Getting into a defensive stance as he reached for his bow and arrows.

You stood still, while a few meters away from you - a Thanator crept closer and closer. Y/n had not thought to bring her bow and arrows, only a hunting knife.

For once she had not thought to bring more protection, just wanting to be at peace with her favourite person. She didn't know she would stumble into any trouble, they weren't even that far from home.

In the Omaticaya clan, you were the most sought out for your hunting skills. But nothing could prepare you for this. While hand-on-hand combat was something you continued to learn from Toruk Makto, you'd only seen a Thanator in the wild very few times. You knew to never engage, hide and calm your breathing - do not make contact.

But it was too late for that now, wasn't it?

Neteyam's heart missed a beat, but the arrow he aimed at the Thanator didn't. It pierced through one of its legs. Letting out a ferocious raw as it barred its teeth at you both. He didn't stand down, shooting another arrow - this time sinking into its other leg.

The Thanator let out a low whine, its eyes calculating. Before pivoting and disappearing back into the jungle.

It was silent for a few moments, the adrenaline still ramping itself up in both your bones. Making your way over to him you brought him into a hug, leaning your head on his chest.

It felt like leaves had been shoved down your throat as you struggled to speak from the sheer shock. "Always my savior, thank you 'Teyam."

He scoffed, smoothing down your braids and pressing his lips to your forehead not letting up. He muttered against your skin, so gently.

"That could have gone a lot worse, yawntu." His eyes flittered around your surroundings, his ears perked up and tail swooshing in high alert still.

Squeezing his shoulders, you tried to ease some of his tension. Rubbing your nose against his, before taking a step back.

"But it didn't! My warrior, the mighty Neteyam Sully! The crowd goes wild, ahhhh!" You cupped your hands around your mouth, making a show of it all.

Rolling his eyes at your childish actions, he bent down retrieving what his dad called a "picnic mat" and the basket you had hand-woven for these special occasions.

"Come on, silly. Let's head back, the Thanator could still be around for all we know."

You pouted at his words, accepting the free hand he held out for you.

"What about our date?"

"We could do it at the stream closer to home."

"Okay fine, I can get behind that."

He ruffled your hair, admiring your feline-like eyes that squinted at the gleaming sun. Your nose scrunching at the force of it all.

Yeah, he'd never get tired of this.

His soul felt electrified whenever he was in your presence. You brought out a side of him that he concealed to try to live up to the mantle of "the golden child".

You were aware of the pressure and how tiring it made him feel. The demand was ultimately too much for someone as young as him to carry on his shoulders sometimes. But he looked up to his parents, and Y/n couldn't blame him for doing so.

He's your other half, and you'll always support him and his endeavors.

That's why you loved moments like these, not including the Thanator. But you felt reassured that he'd always have your back, as you would with his. It felt like second nature to you at this point.

Loving Neteyam.

This was the way of life for you both, and while it sometimes got a little messy - you always found your personal ways back to one another. Even when duty calls, even if you only catch glimpses of each other for a few days.

He would always leave a mark on you, whether it was the multitude of armbands he would weave intricately for you. The ones he'd whine for you to wear so your clan knew of his intentions as if they didn't already. Or perhaps a searing kiss full of yearning and a lifetime of promises.

Neteyam kept to himself a lot, due to his constant strenuous training he didn't mingle like other kids his age would. Sure maybe with the elders, but he didn't exactly have a core group of friends his age - only his family.

And you, you.

His normalcy amongst the ever so often brewing chaos. A semblance of ease always coursed through him even when you'd bask in each other's presence in silence. He greatly valued anytime he had with you, and when he wasn't with you. Neteyam would always think of you and worship the ground you walked on.

Like how you felt loving him was second nature, the thought of you circling his mind came as easy to him as the action of breathing.

That's who you are to each other, always filling in the cracks. Not leaving a rock unturned, words did not have to be spoken out loud to prove your inclination to one another. It was already written in both of your dispositions.

A devotion so boundless does come with conflict though.

But you didn't ponder on that for the time being, instead, you let Neteyam guide you back home. The date had yet to even properly start.

If only you knew he'd be called back to his duties as the chief's son.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄.

This wasn't the plan. All Lo'ak had wanted to do was see some sort of wreckage that had been left behind from the war his father had led.

You were going to stay behind but Tuk insisted she wanted you to come with them, and that you had to join her. There was no way you could deny her cute pout and glassy amber eyes.

So you did just that, you accompanied them.

Time seemed to escape you all, too enthralled by what was left of the wreckage from what seemed to be a demon-flying mechanism of sorts that had been brought down. The foliage that surrounded you all as Woodsprites twinkled and fluttered with the soothing breeze.

After you all got back down from the tree and found Kiri, it was time to make the trek back home.

"We really need to head back before the Eclipse comes kiddos. Come on, move it! Let's go!" You mused, urging them to quicken their pace.

You halted as Lo'ak and Spider peered down at a large footprint.

"What is it?" Kiri insisted.

"We're always supposed to be home by eclipse", Tuk worried. Y/n patted her head in comfort as she looked down at the marking molded into the mud.

"That's way too big for a human", Lo'ak noted.

"Avatars?" Spider questioned in response.

"Maybe..." Lo'ak trailed off as he looked around him.

Lo'ak was suddenly determined to find out who they had belonged too. "They're for sure not ours."

"What are you doing?" Kiri inquired, confused as to why they were straying away from the direction that would guide them back to base.

"Shh, tracking." He controlled his steps as you all reluctantly followed him.

"This is ridiculous, I am not letting Neteyam take the blame for this one," Y/n stressed. Knowing somehow he'd try to put the baggage of this situation back on him.

Tuk mumbled Neteyam, under her breath, and smiled. Making you ease your worries and grin down at her. You loved the bond they shared.

You cursed to yourself as you crouched down behind some leaves. Staying vigilant, your grip on your bow tightened as you made sure to be hyperaware of any sudden noises surrounding you all.

Nervously you bit down on your bottom lips as you saw figures up ahead. Avatars in military gear? This isn't looking good.

Kiri sensing your worries, placed a hand on your shoulder as she looked at the Avatars as well. "We are never supposed to come here."

"Dad is going to ground you-", She continued whispering quietly

"Shhh, shhh."

"- for life!" You nodded your head in agreement as you flicked Lo'aks ear in annoyance.

"Ow!" He muttered quietly glaring at you, only to cower down at your fierce glare.

"Yo, we gotta go check this out," Lo'ak turned back around and said to Spider, nodding his head over to the infamous old shack. The place where the demon (Spider's dad) and Jake Sully had fought.

Y/n hissed at them, grabbing Lo'ak by his ear (again). He smacked her arm at the action.

"You two dipshits are really pushing it this time!" Y/n fumed, if she wasn't on edge before - she's definitely dangling over it now.

"It's going to be fine, we'll be on our own merry way before you know it! Now please, let go of my ear!" Lo'ak insisted, you rolled your eyes before letting it go.

She knew better than to put a stop to his actions because she simply couldn't. Lo'ak was an unstoppable force once he sets his mind on doing something.

Kiri groaned quietly. "Skxwang."

Your gut had a bad feeling about all this. This needs to be called in. They weren't like your people. Avatars that were carrying a lot of deadly weaponry. The ones that would come from the raids ordered by your Olo'eyktan. These people were dangerous.

Great mother, you gotta get out of here.

Keeping a close eye on Lo'ak and Spider, you whispered to Kiri and Tuk.

"Get ready to head out." They nodded at you, starting to realise the seriousness of this situation.

Lo'ak seemed to have read your mind, as they made their way back to the rest of you guys - he pressed his comms button attached to his upper neck.

He conversed with his father, telling him what he could see about the Avatars. Their location and who he was with.

You listened in with your own comms, one that Jake and Neytiri had graciously gifted to you.

Neteyam growled at the mention of your name and Tuk's.

"Y/n is there?" Neteyam asked through clenched teeth. The grip he had on his Ikran tightened turning his once blue knuckles almost stark white.

"It's going to be fine, yawntu. We're moving out." You tried your best to reassure him.

Neteyam looked at his parents, they could only nod at him to help him regain focus. Neytiri had only seen such worry cross her son's features very few times, she too knew this was a dire situation.

Neteyam closed his eyes for a short moment, processing. "Okay, we're on our way. I'm taking our shortcut."

Lo'ak looked at you in question, but you ignored it. Now is not the time.

"Hurry, let's go!" You ushered them out from the bushes, trying to head as far away from the old shack as you possibly could. You made sure to stay behind all of them, constantly turning your head to look back.

"We're all going to be in so much trouble!" Kiri spoke in a hushed tone.

Lo'ak turned to his sister. "Kiri, stop."

"Guys, come on!" Spider said.

Tuk looked back at you all. "It's almost Eclipse, come on!"

You were about to agree with Tuk before a pair of arms reached out from the hanging branches - grabbing onto her small body.

Her shrill scream immediately shifted you into the headspace you'd enter when on raids. Clasping your bow and arrow you aimed it at the unknown Na'vi. Before you could release the arrow, more of them popped out from the foliage surrounding you all.

Hissing, you put your backs against one another as they closed in on you guys.

"Put it down, put it down!" They ordered.

There was a lot of commotion, and you noted how they were speaking in English and not your native tongue. They definitely aren't from here, even if their bodies say otherwise. A lot of commotion was occurring, but your eyes never strayed from Tuks.

Lo'ak cautioned you all, "Guys. Put it down, put it down." He spoke in your language, you'll tell him how smart he is for doing so later.

You snarled but followed him. You knew there were too many of them, there was no way of getting out of this unless one of you got hurt. Trying to strategize you thought of ways to work yourself all out of this situation. But it was too late, they apprehended all of you.

"Mawey, Mawey." Kiri tried to calm Tuk down through all the yelling and sudden movements.

"Shut up, don't move!"

"What have we here?" One of them said. But he seemed different to the rest, more commandeering, and authoritative. He was the leader for sure.

It seemed Y/n's thoughts not too long ago predicted what was about to happen.

Before you knew it. You knocked your forehead into the Na'vi whose hand lingered too long on your waist and gripped tightly on your braids.

He retaliated by smacking your head with the barrel of his gun. Laughing as you fell to the ground, face being pushed further into the floor by the sole of his boot that he was wearing.

He chuckled, pressing down harder earning a grunt of pain from you. "We got ourselves a feisty one, would you look at that!" His comrades laughed and jeered at his comment.

Your friends though, oh they were livid.

"Y/n!" Tuk wailed for you, as Lo'ak did his best to not cause mayhem.

"Get up." You groaned as he anchored you up by your braids. Y/n looked at her armband through her blurry vision, reminding herself to not cause more of a scene. For she feared what she could lose.

"Mawey, Mawey, I'm alright." You choked out, continuing like Lo'ak to speak Na'vi.

"As I was gonna say before I was so rudely interrupted." The leader once again spoke. He looked at each one of you inquisitively, before one of his people showed him Kiri's hands.

These were the times you were grateful that the Sully children wanted you to learn english alongside them. You caught on to what they were assuming about Kiri. All of you did.

Y/n barred her teeth as the idiotic man once again yanked on Kiri's hair, feeling panicky as their leader approached Lo'ak.

He demanded Lo'ak to show him his fingers, only to get flipped off. You could only watch in pride, he truly was his father's son.

As he continued to nag at Lo'ak you could only ponder what they wanted from all of you, how could they know these were the children of Toruk Makto?

"No!" Y/n protested as he put a knife to Lo'aks neck. But the man holding her captive only strengthened the grip he had on her head of hair. You knew he wouldn't disclose his dads whereabouts, and they didn't need to know either that they were already on their way to help you all out.

When the leader spoke in Na'vi it took everything in your willpower to not mock him for how butchered his pronunciation was. These were definitely people from the sky.

"Get away from her!" Y/n screamed as Spider and Lo'ak joined alongside her telling him to get the hell away from Kiri.

As he spoke to Spider, your eyes met Kiri's. She worriedly glanced at your bleeding head from the gun being slammed into you. But to soothe her you simply mouthed that you were okay.

You were all going to get out of this, alive.

"Miles?"

"Nobody calls me that," Spider said in response.

Your eyes widened in realisation, as did Lo'ak and Kiri's. The man standing before you was Miles Quaritch, Spider's father who was supposed to be deceased.

The sky demon who raged war on your homeland, the one who had killed your father in battle.

You were not about to let him take away any more of your family. Y/n wanted to kill him. How dare he have a second chance at life, in a world like Pandora which he completely takes for granted?

Quaritch stands up, gazing around. "We are standing by for extract, over."

Extract? No, they aren't here yet.

Y/n struggled to fight against the tight hold on her as they started to move away from where they'd been ambushed.

"Let us go!" Kiri begged, pain evident in her voice. You could only shake your head at her, not wanting for her to receive the same brutal treatment you'd just experienced.

"Shut up!" The bald ugly one seethed. Demon trash.

As you were shoved to the ground you could only look up at the clear skies above you. Silently, Y/n prayed to Eywa in hopes they'd be rescued before it was too late.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ˳೫˚

Eclipse was nearing, and the gleaming sun was starting to fade away and rest for the night. You only wished you could do the same, but being held as a "viable prisoner" unfortunately hinders that.

But not too far from where you and the rest waited to be saved, there were three people who landed on a tree branch. Hopping off their Ikrans, they sought to do just that. To save the ones they loved most.

"You stay with the Ikrans," Jake ordered his son.

Neteyam could only shut his eyes in annoyance, his stance shifting to convey his determination. There was a fire burning in his eyes, and it wasn't going to cease any time soon.

"Dad, I'm a warrior like you. I'm supposed to fight," He urged. No, he pleaded.

He could not just stand here and tend to the Ikrans. The mere thought of doing so was agonizing enough for him. To wait for you and his siblings to return safely.

The boy could only let his fingertips brush against the choker you had made and gifted him only the night before.

"Neteyam," Neytiri understood her son's worries. But she already had more than enough on her plate.

Jake gave a slight shake of his head, "I won't say it again."

"But dad! She's-", He tried to counteract. Sway his parents somehow, his hands yearned for revenge. The anguish on the tip of his tongue, his bow weighing on his back like a ton of bricks.

"I know, son. And I will get her back too. Just, stay here." Jake sighed, placing his hand on Neteyam's shoulder for a moment.

Before Neteyam could try to rebut, his parents had already begun venturing off methodically.

"Yes sir." He muttered to himself, walking back over to his Ikran and placing a gentle hand on it.

He had to think of his own plan.

Meanwhile, the bioluminescence beginning to flourish right before your eyes made your heart stumble on itself. She didn't know who was going to arrive first anymore. Her saviors, or soon-to-be tormentors.

Your thoughts continued to remain astray as the rain pelted down on your skin. Y/n did not let it show how the water seeping into her open wound located at the side of her head had caused her immense pain. Instead, she clenched her jaw and continued to watch over her family.

Y/n's ears perked at the static coming from a set of comms, something, something. 3 minutes.

She had to resort to something else then, she has to devise her own plan.

Quaritch though, couldn't shake a feeling that something was awry.

"Watch our 6."

You tried to angle your head to try to watch over Spider and Kiri. Only to fall short at the harsh tug of your ear.

"Keep your eyes forward."

You glared into nothingness, Y/n had never felt so utterly disposable.

Neytiri could only watch on as she pressed herself further into the tree. She had a clear sight of all of you. Something untamed bubbled within her having to witness her children in such a vulnerable state.

Then you heard it, Neytiri's call. Sounding again and again. To any person it'd sound like one of the many animals dominating the jungle, but you knew otherwise.

Catching on to this, Lo'ak gave an affirmative nod to all of you.

It's time.

Kiri prayed to Eywa, hoping to assure her mother's safety in whatever was about to ensue. But you knew the cards had been dealt, now it was time for all of you to follow along.

Instantaneously a familiar arrow sunk into the head of the man who had been guarding Kiri and Spider.

"Contact made!"

Frazzled by the gunshots, you heard a faint call of Lo'aks name. Suddenly a green mist evaded your senses.

Y/n knew now was her chance to escape.

She felt it was only right to let karma be her bitch. As soon as the chamber of the gun the man who had been guarding Y/n had emptied. He maneuvered to replace it, but before he could get far enough - you played your card.

Grasping the front of the gun, ignoring the burn from the gunpowder. You slammed it into the perpetrator's chin, making him stumble backward. Closing your fist, you landed a punch to his face for good measure.

"Tuk, race. Y/n, come on!" Lo'ak yelled for you.

As you began to run towards him, a hand wrapped around your ankle making you propel onto the dirt beneath you. Groaning, you tried to crawl away far enough to push yourself up. But something had glinted in your peripheral.

Your knife. It must have dropped from whoever had them after Neytiri shot her first arrow. You'd thank Neteyam later for having polished your knife when he added new decorative beads to it.

Choking for air, your fingertips brushed against it but a sheer force pushed your arms away from it. You snarled in pain, having reached your limit with this pathetic demon.

Channeling everything you'd learned in all your training back with your clan, you ignored the searing ache. The back of your head met his face with a sharp force.

In his moment of weakness, you scrambled for your knife. This time successfully getting it in your grasp.

You crouched in a defensive stance before him, letting out a vicious hiss as you clutched onto your knife.

"You're gonna pay-", He started to say.

You gasped, both your eyes trailing down to the arrow now wedged in his chest. He could only let out a low groan, trying to advance toward you.

Only he went flying back, another arrow hitting him dead in the forehead. But they weren't from Neytiri.

Pivoting you let out something akin to a choked sob or heave, "Neteyam!"

There he stood strong and mighty as ever. Hidden amongst the nature the jungle provides.

He'd never heard you utter his name like that. The eldest son was so used to it leaving your plush lips in either a tone of endearment or humor. Always enraptured in strings of warmth and grace.

But the way you had just spoken his name, rooted him into the ground. Neteyam never heard you so debilitated, so disoriented. It made his skin crawl in agony.

The gunshots sucked him right back in. He lunged towards you, pulling you away from the mayhem.

"Na'vi!" Someone behind you hollered.

"Rot in hell!" Your scream was directed at your tormentor, you hoped he was still alive to hear those words.

Neteyam pushed you behind him, loading his bow. But before he could shoot again you both were tackled down by Jake.

"Go! Go! Go!" He shouted, pushing you two forward as gunshots rang out.

All of you found temporary solace behind a tree trunk, Jake's arm reached out checking over you both. His eyes widened at how beaten down you looked.

"Follow me! Ready? Ready!" Jake instructed you both. This time it wasn't training though, it was life or death.

Jake stepped out, firing a few bullets at the enemies.

"Move!" Jake bellowed.

You jumped into action, pumping your legs as you run. The chilled air wooshed in your ears and nipped at your cheeks. You hauled yourself over the roots of the trees engulfing you. Narrowly, missing the gunshots as you reminded yourself to not look back.

It didn't sit well with Jake how he was the one ahead and you two were behind him. "Come on!" He yelled.

Neteyam grabbed your hips, pushing you over an abnormally larger root than the rest of the others, understanding the pain you must be in right now.

He knew you were more than capable of getting over it. He just wouldn't be able to get over himself if you sustained even more injuries. It also gave him great comfort being able to see you right in front of him.

You don't know how long you ran for, only finally coming to a stop in a small clearing. Falling to your knees, you tried to catch your breath.

Neteyam had so much to say as he looked down at you, but he physically was in too much shock at the moment. So he chose to settle down beside you, bringing you into his arms carefully.

Jake brought you two once again - to a tree. There you leaned against it, waiting in silence for everyone else.

Soon the rustling of leaves grabbed your attention. Jake held a warning hand to you both, signaling you guys to stay put.

Lo'ak and Tuk made their way to you guys. Giving each other tender hugs, you graciously thanked Eywa for keeping them safe.

As Lo'ak leaned his head on your shoulder, he mumbled an apology to you.

"I'm so sorry for leaving you behind. Tuk was terrified, and I had to get her out of there."

You patted his head, allowing him to lean back and look at you.

"You did what was right, Lo'ak. I have no ill feelings toward you. I'm just grateful you're both okay." Y/n reassured him, as she kissed Tuk on the forehead.

Movement suddenly came from behind you, Jake pushed you and his children behind him - again.

Breaking out from the foliage was a worrisome Kiri and Neytiri.

"Mom!" Tuk cried, running to them. You sluggishly followed her.

Neytiri brought you, girls, into a hug as she too thanked Eywa numerous times that you were all here. She'd never had a reminder as harsh as this.

What she could have just lost.

Neteyam gravitated towards you after Jake embraced both him and Lo'ak.

He looked over at you, eyes and hands trailing.

"We need to get you patched up, grandma can help." He whispered to you, hands hovering over your bruised face.

Inwardly, Neteyam was seething. So many rhetorical questions were prodding at his brain. How you were already wounded when he first saw you? What else had they done to you?

Y/n crooned - "No, no. I'm fine, I'm okay."

"You are not!" He grunted.

His eyes looked dazed, far away. Neteyam was still in a state of terror. Not only had his siblings been put in danger, but his partner in crime as well. His person, was right in the thick of it.

He didn't want to linger on what could have happened if he and his parents came any later. He didn't want to fathom the thought of not just Spider being abducted, but all of you as well.

If his arrow had missed, if anything had gone remotely wrong...

As if you could read his mind, somehow capture his thoughts. Your thumb brushed over his cheek. Your other hand moving to cradle the back of his head as your hand sunk into his braids. Treading your fingers through it you leaned your head against his.

"I'm right here, Neteyam. We're all going to be okay."

Neteyam could only nod as he brought you into another longing embrace.

He'd do whatever it takes for you to stay by each other's sides. Whatever it takes, he will always protect you. Even when he is gone from this world, he vowed to himself right then and there - that he'd still look out for you.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄.

Awa'atlu grew on you over time. It took a while, a lot of adjusting, and taking new things in stride. But you made it this far now, and you felt like maybe this place was truly becoming your home.

It truly felt like a juxtaposition, from the forest - now to the water. Somehow it brought you comfort, Eywa constructed such beautiful places. The community around you, while hostile at first - was also beginning to warm up to all of you too.

Alongside your mother, you had followed the Sullys as you seek out a new place that would hopefully grant you Uturu.

It was truly a challenge, having to stay hidden to keep the people back in your clan safe. You knew it was the right call.

But now the tides were pulling themselves in, dread encompassing the place you were still trying to gain more understanding of.

Your luck was running thin. All you wanted to do was help Lo'ak save Payakan. To be there for your people, your new clan.

It seemed the world had other plans though.

Now you were stuck on the demon ship. Handcuffed to the rails alongside Lo'ak, Tsireya, and Tuk. Snarling you checked the restraints out, you realised you'd have to cut into it to be released. Dammit.

"Be brave," Lo'ak tried to remain optimistic.

Y/n could only hope that Neteyam had gotten back to safety far away from all this.

All your ears perked up, hearing the distinct calls of the Metkayina clan. You could see them in the distance flying on their Skimwings towards the ship.

"Na'vi inbound!" Someone yelled.

"Push left, spread out." Another commanded them.

Tuk had faith, they were all going to get out of this alive. "Dad," she called out to him.

"It's Sully."

Quaritch ripped the comms off from Lo'ak as the Metkayina came to a still in the water a few hundred yards away from you all.

"Jake, tell your friends to stand down. If you want your kids back, you'll come out alone." Quatrich asserted, grasping his gun and pressing it to the side of Lo'aks head.

Tsireya and you yelled for him to stop, whilst Tuk began to cry.

"You know better to test my result."

Y/n wished she could listen in, but she looked around for her mother instead. She noted how Neytiri and Melìew were nowhere to be seen. Must be up in the sky, hovering.

Quaritch was running out of patience, he moved the gun to your head instead.

"She took one of ours, maybe it's time to take one of yours. Like I said, do not test me!" You held your breath, trying not to make any sudden sound or movement.

Your blood ran cold, Y/n did not want to die this way. Especially not now, not when she has so much more reasons to live and experiences to fulfill.

Through gritted teeth, Quaritch challenged Jake. "Do I make myself clear?"

He stepped back, the weight of the gun easing off your head. Y/n looked on to where Jake and the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk were having a heated discussion.

It gave you a moment to ponder on Quaritch's words from before. She hadn't killed one of the sky people. But Neteyam did.

In the midst of all the fighting, it must have looked to them like it had been her doing. Whatever, that was the least of her worries at this time being.

Quaritch once again spoke to Jake through the stolen comms. "Offers beginning to expire. What's it gonna be?"

Y/n looked to Lo'ak after hearing him curse quietly, following his eyes you saw his father pushing on - alone.

"Easy shot." One of the fake Na'vi beckoned.

"You hit him now, they attack. Wait until he's on board."

Lo'ak and yourself let out frustrated groans through harshly gritted teeth. You were defenseless.

Abruptly water shot up as a familiar looking Tulkun shot out from beneath the ocean.

"Payakan", Tuk yelled out.

Water rained down on you all as he launched himself on top of the ship. You watched in astonishment as he wreaked havoc.

"Argh!" You grunted, pushing a nearby soldier to Payakan. Lo'ak mimicked your actions as he called out for his brother.

"Yeah!" Lo'ak whooped.

"Holy shit," You gaped as Payakan deflected the harpoon and dove back into the ocean.

The sound of gunshots had your ears ringing as you watched the Metkayina charge at the sky people. Sighing in relief as you saw your mother on her Ikran flying side by side with Neytiri.

Y/n could only observe as the sky people hopped on their own Ikrans and flew upwards. While everyone fought each other you used this to your advantage, trying to break free from your restraints.

Neytiri and your mother flew over the ship, looking down at their children in horror. Both of them shot arrows into the gunships that attempted to fly into the battle.

The ship suddenly jerked, before moving at a far faster pace. Shrieking as you were suddenly suspended in the air, before knocking back down onto the ship.

Water sprayed at all of you on impact. Lo'ak let out a pained groan as he pushed himself up, kicking at the rails.

"Are you okay," he asked all of you. You all nodded, before following his motions and kicking the rail as well.

Alarms sounded all around the ship. You needed to get out of here.

Suddenly, Tuk gasped gleefully. "Neteyam!"

Your head whipped to the side, distracted by pushing at the railing.

He held a knife in his head, grinning - "Hey baby brother, you need some help?"

"You're ridiculous," Y/n mused. Her heart soared at the sight of her boyfriend unharmed.

"Shut up, come on!" Lo'ak replied, looking over his shoulders to see no one was paying attention to them.

He quickly cut Tsireya out of her restraints, and moving onto Tuk he did the same.

Now it was your turn.

He gazes into your eyes, fighting off the instinct to caress your face. Cutting you out of your restraints, he could finally breathe easier. His hands hovered over your wrists seeing the angry red marks that now tainted your deep blue skin.

He looked to Tsireya and you, "Get tuk out of here."

Nodding, you grasped onto Tuk's arm running to the edge of the ship. You turned around as Neteyam stumbled towards you, eyes squinting seeing Lo'ak had rushed the other way.

"Lo'ak!" He called for his brother, making his way back to him as the younger brother grabbed a gun. You watched them bicker back and forth, rolling your eyes at their idiotic antics.

"Tsireya go, we'll meet you there," Y/n said as she took her knife out.

"No, Y/n!" Tuk pouted at you.

Leaning down you kissed her forehead, "I'll be back soon".

Y/n nodded at Tsireya before making her way over to the two Skxwangs.

"Come on bro, we can't leave him!"

You tugged on Neteyam's arm, "What's going on?"

"We've gotta get Spider!" Lo'ak exclaimed.

Y/n tilted her head up to meet Neteyam's eyes. He look troubled, but he knew if he didn't follow - Lo'ak would venture on this mission by himself.

It's just, something felt off.

You knew in those few seconds, Neteyam had the same gut feeling you did. It wasn't that you didn't want to save Spider, but the circumstances of everything were already against you all. Y/n had a terrible feeling about this, and the last time she had this feeling was at the Old Shack.

But you weren't going to leave them behind. Looking around, you also decided to pick up a gun.

Neteyam, realising the intent of your actions fought against them weakly. "No, go with Tuk."

You stared him down. He knew you already made up your mind.

Sighing, he pushed you in front of him. Each of you crept further into the ship, jumping on a nearby wall and climbing to the ceiling.

Y/n tuned out the sounds of the people running beneath her frantically. Choosing to continue to move along.

The three of you made your way onto some sort of connecting platform. Lo'ak put a finger to his lips, before pointing down below. Neteyam and Y/n peered over the edge, seeing Spider being guarded by multiple men.

As they rounded the corner, Neteyam signed "Jump down when I do".

In a matter of seconds he leaped down, you and Lo'ak closely following behind. You pushed one of the men into the nearest wall, immediately slicing his throat.

A hand came at your shoulder and gripped it harshly, but you quickly grabbed it as you turned around. Slamming the man into the ground you leaned down, holding the man's head - you stabbed your knife in his chest.

As you got back up, Neteyam suddenly pushed you out of the way. He grabbed the man who was charging at you and threw him down the ship.

Silence. Your adrenaline had your hands shaking, but before anyone could say a word - one of the men got up grasping his gun.

Lo'ak bet him to it, firing a bunch of rounds and shooting the man down.

Your eyes widened in shock, "Bro come on", Spider called.

Neteyam put his hand in yours, examining his brother.

"Let's go."

Neteyam tugged you along, jumping down as you all tried to figure out a way to get off this ship.

Spider thanked you all, but you saw Quaritchs right-hand man in the near distance.

"No!" Neteyam shouted, aiming the gun Lo'ak was pointing at him down to the ground. Shots were fired at you all as you crouched down rushing away from the henchmen.

"Give me that," Neteyam grabbed his gun whilst you held yours. You both peeked out, as you reached a corner. Firing in the general area the bullets were coming from.

"Go, Go, Go!" You and Neteyam yelled at the two boys.

Y/n checked behind them, witnessing them successfully leaping off the ship.

"Go, Neteyam! I am right behind you." Y/n urged, continuing to shoot at the men.

A deep guttural growl escaped him.

He wanted to complain, but the sound of more gunshots cut him off before he could do so.

He headed in the same direction Lo'ak and Spider had gone. Jumping into the ocean, he waited for you.

You looked to where the men were reloading the guns. It was now or never.

Right before you moved to leap as well, someone suddenly body-slammed you. Screaming at the impact, you desperately tried to reach for the gun that got knocked out of your hands.

A soldier held you down, and the bubble gum she had been chewing - popped. Giving you a deathly glare she dug her fingernails into your skin, drawing blood.

Y/n squirmed as she tried to resist and fight her way out of her deathly grip.

"You killed a good man in the woods. Like Colonel said, you took one of ours." She spat at you.

Any response you could have uttered was cut off by your own knife being plunged into your lower chest.

Y/n wanted to scream, to do anything but succumb to the faith that had just been handed to her. But the pain was excruciating, nothing like she'd ever felt before in her entire life.

"Rot in hell." She sneered at you.

It sounded ironic. The words you had screamed in a moment of triumph, resinated bitterly now.

She rolled you, pushing you over the edge as you plummeted into the water.

Struggling to stay afloat, all you could hear was your friends and lovers muffled cheering. Y/n could only smile to herself, at least they were all okay.

Everything else began to blur from then on, you remember them realising you were wounded. How Neteyam had never looked so disoriented in his life.

Oh, how the situations have flipped.

This wasn't the plan.

How dare he jump for safety and leave you to die? It should have been him.

"N-Neteyam." You choked out, your chest rising up and down rapidly. Y/n was grappling to stay afloat as her own hand tried to cover her stab wound.

Neteyam's heart shattered at the sight of you as he held you above water. "Shhh, save your energy. You're going to be just fine."

He took you away from prying eyes, keeping a lookout as he called for his Ilu. Lo'ak, Tsireya, and Spider were right behind him.

"Bro, we can take her to that rock over there." Lo'ak pointed, not too far but enough distance to separate you all from the sinking ship.

Neteyam nodded, continuing to hold you upright and letting you lean on him.

It felt like a million years, his entire lifetime seeming like it passed before reaching the rock.

With the help of everyone else, they lifted you on it, carrying you and settling you down.

"Watch her head, watch her head," Neteyam repeated. Pushing wet hair strands away from your face that was scrunched up in discomfort

"That could have gone a lot worse, yawntu." You quietly said.

Neteyam's smile was grim, suddenly taken back to your date in the jungle that had been interrupted by that mighty Thanator and his own personal duties back at home.

"Huh, yeah. It really could have. But it didn't" Neteyam stuttered out.

His chuckles that followed his words were forced, vision going murky at the tears that threatened to burst through his facade.

He knew even as Tsireya stuffed the stab wound with moss from the rock it was too late. There was too much blood, so much blood. For the very first and last time, he was too late.

Too late to save you, and now he didn't know what to do.

Your end is near.

Before there was an opportunity to aid you. To get you to safety - to save you from harm's way. But this time there was absolutely nothing he could do. He'd never felt so openly inferior.

All he could do was let Eywa retrieve you peacefully.

Your cries of pain tore into him, tears gushing down your face as he hushed you and tried to wipe them all away.

It devastated him to know there wasn't any way for him to feel your pain. He never wanted this to ever happen to you.

He truly thought that this move away from all the danger and war had bought you both more time.

He was a fool for thinking that life would bestow that upon him.

The sudden wooshing of Ikrans wings mingled in the tense air as Neytiri and Melìew landed on the rock. Jake, hopped off his Skimwing.

"Oh great mother, no! My daughter, my daughter!" Your mother wept as she fell onto her knees by your side.

Neteyam gripped your hand, squeezing it in reassurance.

"Mom, I did it. I'm truly a warrior." You struggled, your breath seeming to escape you quicker than you thought.

"You silly girl. You always have been. You always will be." Your mother soothed you, her hands holding your face and caressing your hair.

You meekly smiled at her, looking at everyone who surrounded you. Neytiri silently cried as Jake held her in his arms. It gave you a sense of comfort, through the pair - you saw yourself and Neteyam.

Y/n glanced at Jake, "Thank you for everything."

Jake could only bend down, pressing a hand to your leg and giving it a squeeze. He had so much to say. How wonderful you are at everything you do. The way you gave every training lesson your all. And the way you treated his son. But he had a feeling you already knew.

Neytiri moved to the free space above your head, gripping onto one of your mum's hands as she pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

You would always be her honourary daughter, and she knew she was about to lose you. All she could do now was be here and try to give you some comfort.

"Neteyam?"

"Yes, Y/n?" Neteyam peered down at you, and you returned his gaze.

"Are we going back home?" She whispered.

He could see the light he adored so much fading away from Y/n's eyes. The faint wheeze in your breathing, and your skin losing its colour.

"Yeah we are, we're gonna finish that picnic date. You gotta prepare your basket okay? Don't forget the picnic blanket." His tears were free-falling at this point, but he no longer had the willpower to care about saving face.

All he cared about at this moment was you.

Numb to the feelings consuming your body, Y/n's smile widened. “Okay 'Teyam, can we bring our Ikrans?"

Neteyam forced himself to nod, keeping his tone of voice upbeat. "You bet, Y/n. I'll even race you."

You coughed as you giggled. Neteyam's frown deepened, as he cradled your face.

For the very last time, you nuzzled into the warmth his open palm provided. Taking in his faint yet distinct scent of salt and nature.

Peace poured into your heart and soul.

"I'm gonna win. and I'm always going to love you. I love you, and your wonderful family. I love you, I see you." You rambled, truly hoping you conveyed your last words well.

"I will always see you," Neteyam murmured, taking all of you in as well.

And then the light faded.

Tsireya was the first to realise this, she looked down at your blood coating her hands as she started to cry. Lo'ak held onto her, and Neteyam - knowing damn well he was about to need it.

"Y/n? Y/n. Y/n!" Neteyam wailed out a gut-wrenching cry for help.

He couldn't believe his eyes, he couldn't come to terms that you were no longer here.

You were with the great mother now.

"No, Y/n. Please! Come back to me!" He leaned his forehead on yours, closing his eyes tight. He prayed that when he'd open them, this would all be a ruthless lie.

That you'd be able to actually go on that other date. Live on to be each other's mates in the eyes of Eywa. To be able to witness and create a family of your own.

You'd be able to grow and flourish. Together.

His hopes and dreams were crushed the moment your last breath escaped you. Anguish and rage now consumed him.

They took you away from him. Robbed him of a life that was supposed to be spent being by your side, your eternal protector.

As his eyes opened, yours stayed the same.

His fingertips flittered over them, before closing your eyes.

Neteyam could no longer bare to look at what he had lost.

His soul, now as empty as your weightless gaze.

The cries of his family and your mother echoed in his ears, yet he maintained a tight hold on your cold hand.

This couldn't have gone any worse.

But it simply had. And now you were gone.

One with the ocean, one with the sea. Neteyam liked to think and believe they had welcomed you in harmony.

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

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MY LOVE IS A WEAPON THROWN ONTO THE OBLIVION OF YOUR BODY (taken from booklet of original art and essays by Sufjan Stevens, written to accompany his new album Javelin)

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1.MY LOVE My first love was an involuntary sound – the music of the spheres – a subdued, white-noise shuddering of my heart, a fluster of hummingbird vibrations that I could taste in the prenatal hemispheres of my mouth, body against body and brain against brain, two conjoined selves conjuring an off-shore thunderstorm in the horizontal distance, dazzling with flashes of metallic music and elemental chaos in the safe harbor of my mother’s womb. There was no light and no dark, no semblance of simile or semaphore. There was only the blurred and audible presence of a distant and divine voice hovering above the waters where I balanced between the prism of absence and presence on an inflatable dirigible of sea foam, wandering into the oleaginous abyss with a half-smile of hazardry and wizardry – my maiden voyage into the “unbeknownst” of oblivion. For what did I really know at this point in my primordial mindlessness? Nothing at all. I was struck dumb, created from ignorance and ether, first without function or features, then without order or form. I was sensation and consciousness postponed, a wet and placid portion of monotonous fruit cut in quarters awaiting heaven’s blessing. My only occupation at this point was to occupy, be occupied, preoccupy, and prevail nature in a womb-world of benevolence and buoyancy. The music of the heartbeat of the universe danced me to sleep. Within this realm, I was love and life supreme, undivided by thought, word and deed, a small promise kept until the act of doing would undo me for good. My birth was my undoing. And then I was born into oblivion.

2.IS I remember in college, falling in love for the first time, two spring months of rapture, residing on the tail end of a helium balloon. I was so giddy about everything: washing the dishes, tying my shoes, scrambling eggs, binding books, pulling berries off juniper trees. My infatuation had such an arrogant persuasion on the world around me. Everything as metaphor ascribed with romance. I remember, while mowing lawns on the college campus, finding an injured fledgling crow by the dining hall. I carried it to the biology lab, where we called a woman who ran an animal sanctuary from her home. She met us on a bike with a wicker basket. “You are doing the universe a great favor,” she said, holding the bird to her breast, like Mother Goose. The event provided endless fodder: for prose poems and folk songs and long conversations on the roof of the aspirin factory, where we got drunk on Boone’s Farm sangria, speculating on cosmic intentions and the order of the universe. So much meaning, so little time. I was young and dumb and in love. Guided by a perverse curiosity and a voracious sensation-of-the-imagination pivoting at the tip of my tongue, I marveled at the mysteries of life laid out before me, awaiting in the calm commotion between innocence and experience.

3.A WEAPON And then experience pummeled me. Many years later, after the long-suffering exhaustion of life had driven me into the bleak underbelly of realism, my most profound thought was sad and static: that nothing really matters, nobody loves me, and loneliness would always be my most devoted companion. In my new sobering worldview, absent of love, I began to encounter everything as an object without meaning, without modifier. The homeless man selling day-old newspapers on the subway was just a homeless man selling day-old newspapers on the subway. There was no metaphor, no rapture, no cosmic intentions. I had to ask myself: does this make the man, the newspaper, the subway, or myself any less meaningful? No. Quite the opposite. For what resided in that substantial vacancy where I was always prone to symbolize the world to death is exactly what I needed right then: Opportunity. Presence of Mind. Peace On Earth. Stable Stoicism. Absence of Metaphor. Responsibility. And Hard Facts. That was my prayer: to shake off the doting artistry of an over-eager poet with a proclivity to create dreams from doldrums; to approach the world as a concrete object, a thing to be held, not a thing to behold, or allegorized; to remain at peace and in careful jurisprudence in spite of the resentful intonation of my overarching loneliness that devastated innocent bystanders with all the magic castles of the imagination. I told myself: I must snuff out the candle of candy-corn dreams. I must soldier on like a dead-end daydream undeterred. I must be steadfast in the stolid presence and essence of common sense and survival. I must be true to life internal and reside in resignation at last.

4.THROWN My second love was less ecstatic, but more tragic: the “gift” of sight – an elemental flash of lightning, which struck me like a bag of metal shavings thrown out onto ice reflecting back at the centerpiece of my sternum. A sucker punch to the chest. My cold consciousness came into sharp focus, rattled by illuminating waves invading everything around me. The light was loud and extraordinary. And even with my eyes closed, my pupils began pontificating at the pornography of sight, and I was momentarily carved into madness. Seeing is believing is birth. I shuddered and shirked at the tangible evidence of something else – the others – the imposition of a sensation outside myself, in which everything was separated into opposable armies: the land from the waters, the air from the earth, the seasons from the doldrums, the seen from the unseen, sin from sainthood, light from dark, good from evil. Everything was put in its place by the curse of namesake. The world was now before me, beneath me, above me, and ultimately against me, a pressure foot pressed down on all sides. I felt a cold claustrophobia, empty and alone, trans-natal and tragic, baffled by the violence of this new environmental context. And to think I was just a silly beansprout of a thing shivering under the medical lights, squirming like an open earthworm, now tasked with this terrible act of naming. God gave me a pen and a pad of parchment paper. “Transcribe your feelings and your findings,” she said. “Do your thing. First thought, best thought.” I did as I was commanded, a dutiful sea urchin inching its way to the possibility of words and wisdom.

5.ONTO A world without language was once the indication of certain death. Soundless, voiceless, nameless vapor. A typography of empty vessels. The void! But now, what of the tragedy of names, spoken into existence with the demystification of words? I was culprit and complicit, identifying all the divergences, differentiations, variations, permutations, diversities, dichotomies and double entendres. Categorizing the animals, cutting them down to size, organizing the parts of the body with the parts of speech, a fanatical grammar-game of possession, domination and death. I had to ask myself: Is this manner of identification in the name of higher knowledge even if it disregards purpose, analysis, and compassion (observation absent of intention)? And how could it be undertaken without idolatry and ulterior motive? I desired the objectivity of the photography of the baby-brain, whose fuzzy visionary reception was a delightful nebula of perfumed consciousness and joy. I wanted to see the world coherently and without discretion, discernment, reduction, and deduction – unintelligible intelligence. Instead I began to perceive how intimate knowledge generates prosperity (fullness) and progeny (fruitfulness) – of ideas and offspring. To be “made known” was to be consummated: “Adam knew Eve” – intercourse as discourse (knowledge as physical/sexual engagement). To know someone was to take possession (to gain access, in confidence and with confidentiality). The exchange would potentially unveil the secret knowledge between lovers (the nominative ordinances of arousal) – wherein posterity would become the observable antecedents of this sacred wisdom, and pleasure would be its misfortune (of infatuation and love, of chaos and order). My sexual discourse began to die a slow death of observation and objectification, a nonsense category of substances seen and deemed believable, predicating a cosmic break from the universe: a psychic rebirth, from which invisible things transformed into figures of speech, wherein figures of speech were left dead in the wake of rivulets and rivers, drowning in a molten waterfall of dread, where they would meet their maker in linguistic whimsy. My death was now new life. My reincarnation, a reverse sublimation. I was made known; therefore, I knew nothing.

6.THE For a short time, my pet peeves were my shortcomings: dry skin in the morning – brushing off the bed sheets with bits of outer insulation from my body. Was I molting? I needed to drink more bitter herbs, I thought. I had chronic stomach pain, below the clavicle, a small fist of air. Sweet antacid, mint leaves, fennel seed tea. Invisible Anxiety. The pain in my leg: a hypochondriac’s dream. Soothing myself with palm oil and camphor. Small applications on the surface. At dinner with guests, supplementing aspirin with ice-water, saying very little otherwise, a friend agreed with everyone’s assessment: “Yes, sometimes you are cold and unfeeling. You could warm it up a little.” My apparent coolness – was it a matter of objective safety? That remote vacancy which I brought to every engagement, keeping the world at arm’s length, the anthropologist’s vantage point, sustaining the presumptive: was that my vocation – the judicious spectator, an odd outlier outlining all this activity while staying behind the line of sight? As the youngest sibling, I was always evaluating my older sisters with fierce judgment from the corner of the room, just out of reach: eavesdropping on phone conversations, catching glimpses of padded bras, curling irons, and maxi pads passed between casual doorways. Taking stock of the panoply of premature adulthood (teenage pregnancy), unruly rebellion (sneaking out at night), clumsy and combative excursions with our wicked step-mother (cat fights with elegantly finger-nailed fisticuffs). I watched from a dutiful distance, careful not to engage, harboring a catalog of tragicomic events and all their moral assessments in order to avoid the worst-case scenario for myself. I was in the world, but not of it. I learned from the mistakes of others: that I was nothing more than a mistake waiting to happen, potential energy. I learned from the mistletoe to keep watch overhead so as to avoid the dangling modifier of accidental affection. I learned from the stone in my shoe to keep walking through the pain with a staggering refrain in my step, a constant reminder of the brokenness of my body and the indefatigable self-loathing of my own self-consciousness.

7.OBLIVION My third love was a surprise affection – ticklish touching and tender swaddles of terry towels and cotton cloth wrapped in armfuls of goose down feathers transfixed in the careful undertaking of childcare. A sensual delight! I was an object to be objectified, a thing to squeeze and prickle, caress and carry about in a breadbasket. I grew from a pinecone to a pine tree, from a newt to a dinosaur, from a poppy-seed to a poppy flower bursting with fireworks. This love then transferred its fornications onto something wet, wild and ornithological – a flying, feathery python ascending to its countenance as a bastion of bridegrooms in a flaming aviary chariot of leathery kisses all aimed at my elbows. Hope is a thing with bird feeders. So I watched the feathered fowl crowd around the seeds and suet, grubs and grains with dinosaur intensity, beaks and claws doing their vast prehistoric business with messy execution. My lovers cawed at their community of plumy mishaps like transcendental mother hens: nuthatch and creeper, tanager and titmouse, blue jay and junco gallivanting together like an armful of woolen throw blankets clapping the dust from their ornamental features. Our fairy dance of foreplay lasted for days. Cat calls as birdsong with balloons, iambic pentameter poems, chimes that rhymed with clanging crystals hung on fishing line, and all the fanciful costumes with sequins and fringe, flowered bell bottoms, metallic body suits, reggae music, ballroom dancing, charm bracelets, diamond rings, glimmering little earrings with fly-fishing ornaments, and, on the last day, a very long and serious monologue about global warming. Our lovemaking was quick and witty, a little slutty and clumsy – nothing more than a jaunt, a quick choreography of slaps and body slams, two pigeons in a mosh pit, working things out in juvenilia. Nature had done its work. Afterward we lounged together in the afterglow with soft pillow talk and dreams of nest eggs and parenting, protecting, foraging, feeding, and changing diapers, all the domestic labors of love. But for now, in a warm bird bath, sunning ourselves with a glistening glow, I could only think of the sweet bliss of here and now, the wetness of loving kisses on my nape, my neck, my back, my rump, my foreshortened wings and a sweet nectar nightcap. Hope is a thing deferred, but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life.

8.OF My fourth love was peripatetic: a suitcase stored in an overhead bin on an airplane. Things beget things beget responsibilities. I procrastinated my life by traveling far from it. A day before the voyage, I stayed up late in the polar forces of the night, diligently packing the baggage on the couch, opened up like can of tuna fish, a glass of lemon juice on the nightstand (master cleanse), the Siamese cat washing itself, the dollar store dishes in the sink, my dirty clothes in a paper bag. The last time I had left for this kind of trip, my things were in boxes in one room on the second floor of a gated town house in God-knows-where, New York. Now everything had been transferred as in a swap meet, boxes upon boxes, things upon things, other voices, other rooms. The living room was a labyrinth of speculative journeys, a crossword puzzle of travel prompts. Outside, gale force winds rose to the occasion, knocking on the windows like unwanted guests. I imagined the weather overtaking everything in an apocalyptic frenzy: cups and saucers trembling in tongues, plastic wrap coming undone in a transparent wedding train, pillowcases falling over our heads like hard hats, ceiling fans circumnavigating the neighborhood like helicopter rides, the colored crayons on the kitchen shelf thrown asunder to make slapdash hieroglyphs all over the window panes, the mysterious penmanship of the gods! My mind was preoccupied by disaster, a force majeure, an act of God, a ball of yarn, and the four horses of the Apocalypse. I wanted nothing of it: this origami suitcase lifestyle of travel and transition. I wanted to be here and now. I wanted silence, solace, and stillness. I wanted the simplest of things: a bowl of vanilla ice cream, a warm bath, and a quiet place to sit and stitch my hand-crafted cross-stitch of rainbows and sailboats framing a sexy cartoon portrait of Dionne Warwick diligently working the lines for the Psychic Friends Network from way back in the 1990s, when every solution to every problem was just a phone call away.

9.YOUR History repeats itself, defeats itself, cheats itself, berates and beats itself. I am not historic. I am histrionics. I must hate my mother and my father. I must hate myself and take up the cross and be born again. In this way, my fifth love was an immutable shadow following me with sticky tricks and schemes, a cancerous contamination of the mind that could only be cured with the deadly venom of a cone snail. I couldn’t quite shake it, the cobalt-blue memory of a ghost haunting my sophistry, a prescient reminder that the knowledge of faith and the substance of hope were right behind me this entire time (and not something to pursue, or follow, like an ornamental object on the horizon, dazzling, elusive and alive in the distant future). The Divine Inside was a “previously known encounter.” I could never see it face to face, but only feel it in my shadow, the former patterns of an aura left behind, pushing forward, pursuing, persuading, steering and navigating my memory through the valley of the shadow of death. I wanted so desperately to “have and to hold” the real substance of things (evidence!), the physical, intimate engagement with the body and the blood, which I actively sought out in transcendental activity, prayer and supplication, the sacraments, the feasts of the saints, a metaphysical substance to salivate and sublimate within the natural order of things. But this was a false pretense. God is not natural, but supernatural. The real material of divinity is ineffable, unassailable, unknowable, unutterable, and unreal. The evidence of providence is not within our line of sight, nor within our grasp, but instead beyond and behind our physical kinesphere. It is unapproachable, unspeakable, unobservable, and ultimately “erstwhile”. And yet still we continue to feel it “under our skin” and “within the universe” of our own personal history: The Past/The Passed/The Repossessed. God is our delayed consciousness – the nameless, faceless dichotomy of our secret truth. And we are made in its indistinguishable appearance. Therefore our own true “image” is without a name or a face – a baseless, shapeless cloud hovering above the waters, a countenance of empty atmosphere (signifying nothing) – a gothic apparition, a vision of love, a dance of the eternal travesty of life, a burrowing beetle of impenetrating curiosity. Digging for the true grit of life in the eternal dirt of the universe. 

10.BODY  My last love was a kind of science fiction. I was out running errands at the mall when I saw a fleet of lampshades falling like flying saucers from the sky. The alien robots came to me in an escalating beam of light and said: “We come in peace! The obverse seeks to make its face shine upon you, while the inverse hides in shame.” They did their thing with my body, prodding and poking around for some good news, but at first I would have none of it. I struggled and squirmed under nylon restraints strapped onto a stainless steel operating table. I was a basket case of curmudgeonly vitriol, pointing out everything that was wrong with the world around me: Fossil fuels. Cancer. Money. Greed. Sales Tax. Frozen Yoghurt. Religion. Varicose Veins. Junk Mail. But the alien robots were unflappable. They said, “We just need a little DNA, not a diatribe,” while swabbing the insides of my mouth with a cottony Q-tip. Then, after careful intubation and a slow drip of aesthesia, I eased into the abyss. They removed my clothes and covered my body with a marshmallowy spray foam. They swaddled me into a warm cocoon of maroon goo, where I remained in stasis to the end of the ages, slowly resuming into the soft, pillowy features of my former self – pre-natal, premature, pre-conceived – a slippery and succulent primordial membrane of soupy warmth and illuminating agency awaiting, once again, the cosmic journey laid out before me like a yellow-brick road of possibilities – the secret oblivion of love, the “unbeknownst!” Within this pinprick vision, I saw a tapestry of afterbirth in afterglow as an addendum to an immaculate after-thought of rapturous joy. I was born-again in fullness and truth. I was a peanut. I was a pretzel. I was a pan-fried shrimp. I was pandemonium personified. I was once again myself waiting to happen again and again and again and again and again … until the end.

— Sufjan Stevens

[writingforstraykids]

Lessons in love - Chp.1

Pairing: Hyunchan (mention of Changlix | Minho)

Word Count: 4013

Summary: Chan and Hyunjin, both teachers at Stray Seoul University and roommates, are hopelessly in love with each other, too scared to admit anything. Chan's best friend Minho tries to help after he gets jealous of Felix and Changbin casually flirting with Hyunjin all the time.

Warnings/Tags: college!au, fluff, angst, mutual pining

A/N: So this whole thing is based on this reblog by miu @slutforchanlix and the following rambling with azzy @galaxycatdrawz. This developed into a series real quick and will focus on different dynamics between the rest of the boys as well. I hope you'll have fun reading🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

In the quaint corridors of Stray Seoul University, where ancient oaks whispered old secrets and the breeze carried the scent of fresh paint and old books, Hyunjin and Chan found their sanctuary a few years ago. The two of them were close friends and roommates, each harboring a secret that was as beautiful as it was terrifying. This secret was their unspoken love for each other, a silent symphony that played in the background of their everyday lives. It had been for years.

Hyunjin, with his delicate hands and bright eyes, was the Arts teacher. His classroom was on the third floor of the main building, a room with wide windows that bathed his workspace in natural light. Here, canvases burst into life under his guidance as he taught his students the dance of brush and color. His methods were something new, and his critiques were always constructive but layered with an enthusiasm that made every student feel like a budding Van Gogh. His passion for art was evident in the way his eyes sparkled when discussing the texture of a painting or the gradient of a sunset.

Chan, on the other hand, loved his position as an English teacher. His domain was just a corridor away, in a classroom filled with the rich aroma of old books and new paper. Chan’s lessons were a journey through the landscapes of literature and the intricacies of language. He had a reputation for making Shakespeare relatable and teaching grammar without the usual dread associated with it. His students loved his animated storytelling sessions and the way he could bring characters to life, making metaphysical poets as compelling as contemporary novelists.

Their home was a small apartment just a few blocks away from Stray Seoul University’s campus. It was a cozy little apartment, where each room was filled with the artifacts of their professions - Hyunjin’s sketches adorned the fridge, while plenty of Chan’s annotated copies often lay scattered on the coffee table. They moved around each other with comfortable ease, a rhythm perfected over time, shared smiles, and an occasional brush of hands that neither dared to acknowledge the way they’d love to.

Despite their closeness, both Hyunjin and Chan were guarded about their feelings. Their friendship was a delicate vase on the edge of a table, beautiful but terrifying in its fragility. Evenings often found them on their small balcony, where they talked about everything but those feelings. Hyunjin would describe his latest project, his hands painting the air as he spoke, while Chan would listen, his eyes often lingering a moment too long, full of words he couldn't voice.

At college, they maintained a professional but friendly demeanor. Students often speculated about their closeness, their seamless cooperation during faculty meetings, and their mutual admiration when discussing school projects. They were known for spending their lunch breaks together, and every student knew if there were a field trip planned, the other would be the additional teacher. Both were beloved for their dedication and the safe space they created in their classrooms. Their colleagues respected them for their talents and the subtle ways they supported each other - Chan providing literary quotes that Hyunjin might use in a lecture on art history, or Hyunjin recommending visual materials that could help Chan illustrate a point about descriptive narratives.

Yet, in those quiet moments between tasks, when the world seemed to slow down, Chan found his thoughts drifting to Hyunjin more often than he would admit. He remembered their first meeting, an accidental encounter in the university library back when they just started studying themselves. Chan had been searching for a particular book on Elizabethan poetry when he had spotted Hyunjin, a few shelves away, deeply engrossed in a book on Renaissance art. Their eyes had met briefly, and something unspoken had passed between them that neither of them could explain.

From that moment on, their paths seemed to intersect more frequently. Shared lunches in the cafeteria turned into evening strolls around the campus, and those strolls led to late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. Each interaction was a new layer added to their growing bond, a bond that was as comforting as it was confusing for Chan.

He often found himself mesmerized by Hyunjin's presence. There was something about the way Hyunjin moved, with a grace that seemed almost ethereal, and the way he spoke, his words like gentle strokes on a canvas. Chan admired his friend’s passion for art, the way he could lose himself in a painting for hours, completely absorbed by the play of colors and textures. It was during these moments, watching Hyunjin in his element, that Chan felt the stirrings of something deeper, something that went beyond friendship. Shit, he was in love, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Hyunjin’s love for Chan had grown slowly over time, like a seed taking root in the fertile soil of shared experiences and mutual respect. He cherished their friendship, but the intensity of his feelings often left him breathless. He admired Chan’s dedication to his students and the way his face would light up when discussing a particularly engaging piece of literature. Hyunjin found himself mesmerized by the passion in Chan’s eyes, the way his hands would move animatedly as he spoke. It was in these moments that Hyunjin felt the stirrings of something deeper, something that went beyond friendship.

Every day, as they walked to the university together, Hyunjin would steal glances at Chan, hoping to catch a glimpse of the emotions that might mirror his own. The soft morning light would play on Chan’s features, highlighting the lines of his jaw, the curve of his lips, and the warmth in his eyes. Hyunjin’s heart would beat a little faster, a silent testament to the love he kept hidden.

One rainy afternoon, as they sat together in the university café, Chan was grading papers while Hyunjin sketched absentmindedly. The sound of rain tapping against the windows created a cocoon of intimacy around them. Hyunjin looked up from his sketchpad and watched Chan for a moment, admiring the way his brow furrowed in concentration.

“What are you working on?” Chan asked, glancing up from his papers and catching Hyunjin’s gaze.

“Oh, just a rough sketch,” Hyunjin replied, a blush creeping up his cheeks. He quickly looked down, feeling the weight of his unspoken feelings.

Chan smiled warmly at his friend's shyness. “Can I see it?”

Hyunjin hesitated for a moment before handing over the sketchpad. The drawing was a portrait of Chan, his features captured with an intimacy that spoke volumes of Hyunjin’s admiration. Chan studied the drawing, a look of surprise and something else - something tender - crossing his face.

“This is incredible, Hyunjin,” Chan said softly, his voice filled with awe. “You’ve captured…so much.”

Hyunjin’s heart raced as he searched Chan’s eyes for any hint of recognition, any sign that his feelings might be reciprocated. But Chan’s expression remained unreadable, and the moment passed, leaving Hyunjin with a bittersweet ache in his chest. “It's nothing,” he waved him off, taking it back.

Chan chuckled at him, fondly rolling his eyes. “Always so modest.”

Hyunjin hummed gently, staring out of the window as Chan continued working. He watched the raindrops painting their vivid pictures along the glass, but his eyes went back to Chan much sooner than he’d like. He often found himself caught in moments of quiet admiration for Chan, his eyes tracing the contours of Chan's face with the same intensity and focus he applied to his art. 

A sliver of late afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, breaking through the clouds and illuminating Chan’s profile. The light danced across his face, highlighting the arch of his cheekbone and the curve of his jaw. Hyunjin watched as Chan read, completely absorbed in his students’ work, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration. It was these unguarded, intimate moments that Hyunjin cherished most - the quiet, the soft rustling of pages, and Chan's expressive eyes moving swiftly across the text.

Chan’s beauty was not just in his features but in his movements and expressions. When he laughed, his eyes lit up, creasing at the corners, and his whole face seemed to brighten the room. When he was deep in thought, his lips would purse slightly, and his fingers would tap rhythmically on the surface beside him. These nuances, these small, everyday gestures, drew Hyunjin in deeper, his admiration growing with each passing moment.

Hyunjin's sketches often contained these details. His sketchpad was filled with lines attempting to capture the essence of Chan’s expressions. Each drawing was a silent testament to his deep affection - a collection of moments that Hyunjin treasured. 

The sound of the door opening pulled him from his thoughts, a soft smile covering his lips, spotting Felix. Felix, the owner of the cafe, was a charismatic Australian who had quickly established his little shop on campus as a warm, inviting haven. With his sunny smile and talent for remembering his customers' favorite orders, Felix had become particularly popular among the university crowd. His friendly banter and the occasional free pastry for his regulars only added to his charm.

"Hyunjin, Chan! Good to see you guys," Felix greeted them with his usual broad smile, putting aside his jacket. His gaze lingered slightly longer on Hyunjin, something that didn’t escape Chan’s notice.

"Hey, Lix," Hyunjin replied, his own smile a mirror of Felix’s enthusiasm. "It’s getting chilly out there, isn’t it?"

"Yeah, perfect weather for a hot cup of your favorite," Felix chuckled, already turning to prepare their usual orders, spotting their empty cups on the table. "The usual for you both?"

"That would be great, thanks," Chan interjected, trying to sound casual but feeling a twinge of discomfort at the easy banter between Hyunjin and Felix.

As Felix set about making their drinks, Hyunjin browsed through some of the new art magazines stacked on a nearby shelf while Chan watched Felix. He had noticed the way Felix moved with an effortless grace around the café, the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed, and how he seemed particularly animated, especially around Hyunjin a while ago. He knew Hyunjin and Lix got along quite well, and he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and destroy that. It still bothered him.

When Felix brought over their coffees, his hand brushed against Hyunjin’s as he passed him the cup. Chan’s heart sank a little at the sight, the warmth in Felix’s eyes seeming to hold a hint of something more than just friendliness.

"So, Hyunjinnie," Felix started, slipping onto the bench next to him with a casual air, "how’s the new project going? You were telling me about that abstract piece you were working on."

Hyunjin’s face lit up at the question. "It’s going well, thanks for asking! I’m trying some new techniques, so it’s a bit of a challenge, but I’m enjoying it."

"That sounds amazing. You’ll have to show me sometime. I’d love to get a better understanding of your process," Felix replied, his interest seeming genuine but his tone perhaps too eager for Chan’s liking.

Chan watched as Hyunjin nodded, his eyes bright with the prospect of sharing his work. "Definitely, I’d appreciate your feedback."

The conversation flowed smoothly, and Chan felt increasingly like an outsider, his contributions to the conversation feeling forced and hollow in comparison to the natural rapport between Felix and Hyunjin.

The rest of their café visit passed in a blur for Chan. He laughed at the right moments and engaged in the conversation when necessary, but his thoughts were clouded with an unwelcome jealousy. He found himself analyzing every interaction between Felix and Hyunjin, each smile and each glance adding to his growing unease.

Chan tried to talk himself out of his feelings. Felix was just being friendly, he reasoned; it was part of his charm and why the cafe was so popular. Yet, no amount of rationalization seemed to soothe his unease.

One day, driven by a mix of desperation and a desire to understand, Chan decided to confront the situation. He waited until he and Hyunjin were alone, their steps echoing slightly as they walked through the quiet university campus back to Chan’s classroom.

"Hyunjin, can I ask you something?" Chan’s voice was hesitant, a stark contrast to his usual confident tone.

"Of course, Chan. What’s on your mind?" Hyunjin looked at him with concern, sensing the seriousness in his friend’s demeanor.

"It’s about Felix… and you," Chan paused, struggling to find the right words. "Do you feel like he’s… well, flirting with you?"

Hyunjin looked surprised, his eyebrows arching slightly. "Flirting with me? I… hadn’t really thought about it. He’s always nice, but I just thought he was like that with everyone,” he said, pulling the door to Chan’s classroom closed after himself.

Chan nodded slowly, the response not quite easing the tightness in his chest. "Maybe, but it seems different with you. More personal."

Hyunjin considered this for a moment, then sighed. "I suppose I can see how it might come across that way. But he’s with Changbin; he can’t mean much with it,” he giggled. “Changbin does it too, and you never mentioned it.”

Chan anxiously chewed his lower lip, thinking of Felix. There was something undeniably captivating about Felix - his demeanor exuded a warmth and magnetism that drew people to him. Watching him, Chan couldn't help but feel a mixture of admiration and a curious twinge of envy.

Felix's laughter could fill the café, a sound that seemed to echo off the walls and infuse the space with an extra dose of vitality. His hair was tousled perfectly as if each strand had been artfully arranged to give him a carefree, effortlessly charming look. His eyes sparkled with genuine interest as he listened to his customers, making each person feel like the center of his world. It was this quality, Chan thought, that made Felix not just a great café owner but a person who seemed to love his life and his interactions genuinely. It was hard not to think of Felix as someone out of a feel-good novel - the charismatic, adventurous protagonist that made Chan sometimes feel like he was missing from his own life. Sitting there, sipping his coffee, Chan allowed himself a moment to imagine what it would be like to live with that kind of joy and confidence. He couldn’t really blame Hyunjin for preferring his presence over his own.

“Yeah…but Binnie has stated quite often that he’s joking,” Chan argued weakly, his thoughts lingering on Changbin, the PE teacher whose presence seemed to lighten the mood wherever he was. There was an undeniable vitality about Changbin, an enthusiasm that he brought to his classes and interactions. Changbin’s face wore a constant, warm smile, making him approachable despite his imposing physique. His kindness was not just in his gestures or words but in his eyes, which sparkled with genuine concern and interest whenever he engaged with his students or colleagues. Today, Chan had watched him from afar, helping a student perfect their volleyball serve, his patience evident in his calm demeanor and encouraging nods. Chan admired how Changbin treated everyone with the same level of respect and kindness, whether they were star athletes or struggling novices. It was this treatment that truly set Changbin apart in Chan's eyes, making him not just physically attractive but deeply admirable. 

Reflecting on this, Chan thought about the subtle strength underlying Changbin’s kindness. It was a reminder that true strength was not just physical but the grace with which one treated others. Changbin’s hands, so capable of demonstrating sports techniques, were also gentle in offering a reassuring pat on the back or a high five. There was a natural charisma about him that made people feel valued - a trait Chan not only admired but also aspired to include in his own teaching. 

Hyunjin remained quiet for a moment, frowning softly. “I’m sorry, Chan, I didn’t realize it was bothering you. I thought you liked Lix."

Hyunjin's words caught Chan off-guard, stirring a mix of feelings within him. "I do like Felix," Chan admitted, his voice tinged with reluctance. "He's a great guy, but seeing him around you like that... it made me feel unsettled. And I guess it's because..." Chan hesitated, the words stuck in his throat.

"Because what?" Hyunjin prodded gently, almost hoping for Chan to make a confession right here and now.

Chan sighed, the weight of his unspoken truths pressing heavily on him. "It's because I care about you, Hyunjin. More than I probably should,” he said, missing the hopeful glint in Hyunjin’s eyes as he stared at the floor.

Hyunjin's expression softened, his eyes conveying a mix of surprise and compassion. He reached out to place a reassuring hand on Chan's shoulder. "I care about you too, so much...so, please be honest. What’s suddenly bothering you about it?"

Chan looked into Hyunjin's eyes, finding in them a reflection of his own fears and hopes. "I just don’t want you to get hurt," Chan said, managing a small smile despite the tumult of emotions inside him.

“Oh,” Hyunjin nodded, forcing a smile onto his lips. “There’s no need, really. Lix just loves to flirt a little,” he said, swallowing down the bitter taste of disappointment lacing his throat. “I should get to class; I’ll see you later.”

“Okay,” Chan nodded, staring after him. A shaky breath left his lips as the door shut close behind his friend, and the silence around him grew awfully loud. “Coward,” he whispered to himself, groaning softly. He checked his watch and nodded to himself. One more period until lunch break. Which meant his best friend had his break now, teaching a class later. Slipping his papers into his bag, Chan made his way to the faculty lounge, where he knew he would find Minho, the beloved Dance and Performing Arts teacher and his best friend since childhood. Minho was already at their usual spot in the corner of the university's bustling cafeteria, his tray filled with food. As Chan approached, Minho's face lit up with a welcoming smile.

"Channie! How's the master of Shakespeare today?" Minho teased, pushing a chair out with his foot for Chan to sit.

"More like the master of self-conflict," Chan muttered as he sank down into the chair, his shoulders slumping.

Minho's expression shifted to one of concern. "What's up? You look like you've lost a fight with a couple of your metaphysical poets."

Chan chuckled weakly. "It's not the poets giving me trouble. It's...it’s about Hyunjin."

Minho raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Hyunjin, huh? What about him? Don't tell me you finally confessed?"

Chan shook his head, stirring his coffee absentmindedly. "No, nothing like that. It’s just... Felix was flirting with him again, and I don't know; it made me feel weird."

Minho's laughter filled the air, a light-hearted sound that made a few nearby students glance over in curiosity. "Oh, Channie hyung! That’s classic!"

"It's not funny, Minho," Chan protested, though a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I can’t help feeling... jealous."

Minho burst out laughing again, covering his mouth with his hand. "Jealous? Of Yongbokie? That man flirts with anything that breathes—it’s probably just his way. But this is good!"

Chan frowned, puzzled. "How is any of that good?"

"It means you’re finally facing your feelings head-on instead of burying them in your lesson plans and Shakespearean monologues," Minho chuckled, then became more serious. "Look, Chan, it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that you’ve got it bad for Hyunjin. Maybe it's time you did something about it."

“Do what? He’s probably happy about Felix showering him with love,” Chan sighed heavily. “He might…oh fuck you,” he snorted at Minho’s intrigued grin.

"Might fall for his devilish charms?" Minho finished for him, his voice dripping with mock drama. "Come on, Chan. Hyunjin’s got eyes for someone else, even if he doesn’t know it yet."

Chan sighed, knowing Minho was referring to him. "I wish that were enough to stop me from feeling this way. I just hate feeling so... powerless."

Minho reached across the table, placing a reassuring hand over Chan's. "Listen, hyungie, what you’re feeling is totally normal. But you can’t control how Felix acts or how Hyunjin responds. What you can control is what you do next. How about you focus on showing Hyunjin just how much he means to you?"

"And how do I do that without spilling my guts and potentially ruining everything?" Chan asked, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Subtly, Channie. Subtly. Start with small things. Be there for him, make him laugh, and share more of those deep poetic thoughts you keep locked up in your brain...do it with him for once instead of drooling all over my food during lunch break,” he teased softly, pulling a small smile from him. “Build the connection you already have. Trust me; actions speak way louder than confessions thrown out during a moment of jealousy."

"But what if it ruins everything?" Chan’s voice was tinged with worry. "Our friendship, our living situation... I can't lose him, Minho."

Minho nodded, understanding the depth of his friend's fear. "I get it. But consider this—what if telling him opens up the chance for something amazing? You won’t know until you try. Besides, Hyunjin's a great guy; he won’t let this ruin your friendship."

Chan considered Minho's words, the fear mingling with a flicker of hope. "I... I don’t even know where to start."

"Start with the truth. Tell him how you feel, how you've been feeling. It’s not about Felix or anyone else. It’s about you and him," Minho advised, his tone gentle yet firm.

"And if he doesn’t feel the same?" Chan’s voice was barely a whisper now, the weight of his unspoken love heavy on his chest.

Minho’s face softened. "Then you’ll deal with it like the mature, sophisticated intellectuals that you are," he said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. "Seriously, Chan, honesty is terrifying but liberating. Hyunjin deserves to know, and you deserve to be honest with yourself and him."

Chan considered Minho's advice, feeling a semblance of a plan forming in his mind. "Maybe you're right. I just need to be patient and more... proactive."

"That's the spirit!" Minho exclaimed happily. "And who knows? Maybe Hyunjin is closer to seeing the truth than you think. You've got to give some credit to our boy; he's an artist, after all. He sees beauty where others see the ordinary."

“Talk about being poetic,” Chan giggled at him, and Min winked at him fondly.

The bell signaling the end of the break rang, pulling them back to the reality of their day. Minho stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Think about it, okay? I’m here no matter what happens. And who knows? Maybe Hyunjin is waiting for a sign from you."

Chan nodded, feeling a mix of dread and determination settling in his heart. "Thanks, Minho. For listening... and not making too much fun of me."

Minho laughed, pulling Chan into a brief, tight hug. "What are friends for if not to listen to your romantic worries and push you out of your comfort zone? Now, go inspire the future lovers and poets. And think about what you want to say to Hyunjin."

"Thanks, Minnie. Really," Chan said, feeling genuinely grateful for the pep talk.

"Anytime, Chan. Now fuck off and finally be the leading man of your own love story," Minho cheered, giving Chan a playful shove toward the door, giggling as the older flipped him off. 

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

As their ways parted, his mind raced with possibilities and what-ifs. The thought of confessing his feelings to Hyunjin was daunting, but Minho's words echoed in his mind, a mantra of encouragement and challenge. Maybe it was time to stop hiding behind their friendship and take a risk that could potentially change everything.

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @sapphirewaves

[normspellsman]

Nothing Is Lost

part one | part two

pairing: lo’ak x fem!tawkami!reader & fem!tawkami!reader x deceased!oc!brother

genre: angst (majority of it), fluffish, comfort (from both lo’ak + reader), & lo’ak looking out for reader

word count: 2.6k+

warning(s): mentions of sibling death, self deprecating thoughts, reader wishing she was dead instead of brother, mentions of neglectful parents, lo’ak feeling guilty, reader blames jake for what happened, mentions of loss of appetite + indirectly starving self, kissing, lo’ak briefly crying, & guilty feelings

word bank: uturu — any refugee seeking sanctuary that must be granted safe harbor, great mother / eywa — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, yerik / hexapede — land animal that resides on pandora + is hunter for meat, tsmukan — brother, tsmuke — sister, oeyä — my, tiyawn — love, yawne — beloved, yawntutsyip — darling; little loved one, & txe’lan — heart

taglist: @aonungsmate @dearstell @optimisticblazetrash @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @goodiesinthecloset21 @universal-s1ut @amortencjja @liyahsocorro

note: slightly inspired by the song “nothing is lost (you give me strength)” by The Weeknd. a small dedication to @jimfiqs for their comment on the first post which slightly inspired me to write this :).

Days had passed since your brother's funeral and the attack of the sky people on your clan, the Tawkami.

Lo’ak had refused to leave your side throughout the entirety of Kelu’s funeral, paying his respects to your brave little brother as he gently wiped away the tears running down your raw cheeks, trying his best to comfort you.

When your parents caught wind of your brother's unfortunate death, they had a much colder reaction than yours. Your Father, the Olo’eyktan, had buried himself in his duties and in aiding others in attempts to salvage the parts that were left of their beloved home. Your Mother, the Tsahìk, had busied herself with healing the wounded and tending to the elderly. So that left you with the funeral preparations for your deceased brother.

You had been distant and cold towards the others in your life, paying them no mind as you scrambled to make your little brother's funeral perfect. You had to give him a perfect sending off to the Great Mother. You’d accept nothing short of it.

Lo’ak had noticed your sunken eyes and paling cerulean skin whenever you appeared out from your family’s tent, which was rarely. He was worried. He felt extremely worried that you were driving yourself to the bone, giving yourself no time to eat or sleep. It was evident what you were doing to yourself and due to that, Lo’ak felt immense guilt. If only the Sully family has gone past the reefs and seeked uturu from the Metkayina clan instead of the Tawkami. Maybe then your precious brother would still be here, alive and breathing instead of six feet underneath the base of your Home Tree. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in the position you were in now, overworking yourself as your parents neglected you at every turn.

Lo’ak had whispered reassuring words to you as your Mother performed your clans funeral ritual, voice shaking as she did so. He wanted to make sure that you knew he was going to be there for you even if you hated him at the moment. That no matter what, he was going to be there to aid you in picking back up the pieces of your broken, grieving heart.

You pretended that Lo’ak didn’t exist. Ignoring him whenever he brought you a warm piece of yerik that he caught and cooked up for dinner, leaving it outside your tent. Switching the direction you were walking in when he just so happened to be walking towards you, smile on his face before you swerved out of his way. Avoiding eye contact during your clans weekly gathering, watching as the others freely danced in front of you in choice of not meeting Lo’ak’s persistent gaze on the side of your head.

All of your actions were purposeful. You truly didn’t want to see him. But not for the reason he thinks.

You felt awful for reacting the way you did when he tried to comfort you that fateful day, but you had lost the other half of your heart and needed something to blame. And Lo’ak was the one you lashed out at.

A part of you did mean your words, believing that Jake Sully should’ve fought back instead of run, unnecessarily dragging you and your clan into his war. He should’ve never asked uturu from the Tawkami and now all of you were paying the price for it. You resented Jake for causing all this pain and suffering to those who didn’t deserve it. Who offered up their home for him and his family. Who protected him and those he loved. And what did you get in return for your kindness? A dead brother and half a home.

Another part of you knew that your words were just that, words. No true meaning behind the insults you spat. Again, you needed someone to be mad at and Lo’ak was the first person you saw. This part was mad at you, at yourself. Mad that you took your eyes off of Kelu while trying to gather all the children you could to safety. Angry that you didn’t think to take him with you first. Angry that you didn’t find him faster. Angry that he was dead and you weren’t. You should be in his place. In the soil of your home as your clanspeople chanted your song chord and guided you into the hands of Eywa. Maybe then, if you had been the one to die instead of Kelu, your parents wouldn’t mind as much. Wouldn’t sulk as much or wouldn’t ignore your brother in hopes of burying away the pain.

You knew that some part of your parents had wished that it was you instead of Kelu. That you were six feet under instead of their only son. They had always preferred him over you, not that you minded much. You preferred Kelu over you too. But that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt any less. That your suffering wasn’t as much as theirs. Kelu was of your blood. You both had the same metallic substance coursing through your veins. He was your brother first before he was theirs.

You had visited him many nights via the Tree of Souls of your clan. You never missed one, often skipping dinner to see him even if it was for a brief moment.

“(Y/N), look! I did it!” A familiar voice screeched out in excitement, jumping up and down from their feat.

Most of the memories you saw consisted of Kelu when he was younger, them often being of you teaching him something or him coming to you whenever he couldn’t sleep and begged you to sing him to his slumber. This night wasn’t an exception.

Kelu spent weeks trying to convince you to teach him how to use a bow way before both of your parents deemed him old enough to start training with you. Obviously, you couldn’t say no when he approached you one night crying about it, pleading for you to teach him. You gave in once he looked up into your eyes with his wide, amber puppy dog orbs. He was only nine then.

“Good job, tsmukan,” you exclaimed, ruffling his hair in a teasing manner.

He had hit some part of the makeshift target you made, his previous attempts unsuccessful and landing in various places amongst the grass and bushes. The arrow wasn’t embedded into the bright red dot in the middle of the circular target, lodged nearly into the edge. It was his first successful attempt at shooting the arrow at the target and making it. Albeit that fact, he was over the moon about what he did. Excitement shook through his body.

Kelu wrapped his arms around your waist, head barely coming to the middle of your ribcage, burying his face into the flat of your stomach with a wide grin on his face. “Thank you so much, tsmuke. You’re the best teacher ever!” He giddily yelled out, practically shaking with excitement.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, tears pricking at your waterline as you brought younger Kelu into your abdomen. You dearly missed your brother. The warmth of his hug from the memory felt so real. You often found yourself questioning what was real and what wasn’t during your visits with Kelu, struggling to decipher if it was reality.

“What’s wrong, oeyä tsmuke?” Kelu asked, now up to your clavicle, his nine-year-old form no longer as it was replaced with his most recent thirteen-year-old body.

He always rubbed it in your face that he was most likely going to be taller than you once he reached of age, proud that he at least surpassed you in something. Kelu thought the highest of you. Viewing you as the golden child of the family. You naturally excelled at everything you did, being the top warrior of your age group. He wanted to be just like you. Shine in the same light that your parents bestowed upon you from your birth. To be honest, he lacked a lot of skills that was expected of a Tawkami warrior, struggling to keep up with the other children his age. So to be so close to being better, or in this case, taller than you, he took pride in it as he flaunted it to you every chance he got. This was the only thing that he ‘beat’ you at.

“Nothing my dear tsmukan,” you whispered, putting your hand on Kelu’s cheek and softly stroked the patch of skin with the pad of your thumb, “There’s no need to worry.”.

You were almost certain that Kelu was ignorant to the fact that he was dead. You didn’t want to voice your thoughts and ruin the experience your brother was experiencing within Eywa. He deserved to continue on blissfully in his afterlife and not worry over how you coped after his death. He deserved peace.

He didn’t seem too convinced at your words, brow bones pulling together in a furrow. But he quickly let it go, burrowing himself back into your arms, face resting in the crook of your neck. You didn’t know if he did it to comfort you or just because he wanted to be in the warm embrace of your arms but you didn’t complain, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulled him further into your figure. You missed hugging Kelu. Missed his healing hugs and comforting words. You missed him with your whole being that every bone in your body longed to be within the consciousness of the Great Mother twenty-four-seven.

You pulled yourself out of the memory when you heard your name being distantly called, knowing who it was.

“Yes, Lo’ak?” You numbly asked, robotically pulling your queue away from the glowing tendril of your clans Tree of Souls. You really didn’t want to interact with the Omatikaya boy, but you knew you should. A part of you called out to be comforted by him. To be pulled into his arms and be gently reassured that everything was going to be okay and that he will never leave your side for as long as he breathed.

Lo’ak stopped in his tracks upon hearing your response to his calling, surprised that you knew it was him. But you’d always know. You practically memorized everything about the boy. You could tell how he felt by the twitch of his eyebrows to what he was thinking by the way he shifted from foot to foot as his tail softly twitched from side to side. The tone of his voice was something you dedicated to memory very early on in befriending him.

“Have you eaten yet, tiyawn?” He asked, kneeling by your side as he placed his five fingered hand onto the side of your head that was closest to him, gently scratching your braids and scalp.

He hadn’t seen you since this morning. You brushed past him without a second glance, making your way deep into the deep forest that was untouched by the sky peoples fire. He knew that you were frequently visiting your brother at the tree, often ignoring the need for water and food, spending hours upon hours at the glowing Spirit Tree. He was worried that you didn’t eat yet. Worried that you were indirectly killing yourself as punishment for your brother's death.

Your silence is his answer, making him deeply inhale as he moved closer to your figure, fingers still moving against your scalp.

“You should eat, baby,” he mumbled, trying to get you to look back at him as he lowered his face to meet your gaze, “Don’t have to eat everything, can be just one bite.”.

You knew he was right but you couldn’t bring yourself to stomach the thought of eating anything. Your appetite had greatly diminished following Kelu’s funeral. Your body was too consumed with grief to hold anything down or barely even chew for that matter. But you would be willing to try. Try for Lo’ak.

You nodded your head in response to Lo’ak’s words, leaning into the boys side. Your head gently laid on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around your waist, hand resting against your hip bone.

Everything was quiet for a couple of beats, the sounds of the forest echoing throughout the area. Until Lo’ak spoke up.

“I’m sorry, yawne,” he whispers, voice slightly cracking at the truthfulness behind his words, “I’m so sorry that you had to experience that. That your home was destroyed. That the sky demons hurt you. I should’ve done better at protecting you from my Fathers sins.”.

His words made your heart stop, causing you to pull your head from his shoulder to turn towards him, an unreadable expression painted across your face.

Your heart sunk at his confession. You knew that your prior words to him days before may have had something to do with it. You may have meant it in the moment but you no longer believed them to be true. Lo’ak shouldn’t protect you from his Fathers sins no more than you could protect him from your own Fathers. It shouldn’t be his responsibility.

“It is not your fault, Ma Lo’ak,” you mumbled, bringing your left hand up to rest on his cheek, “It is not your responsibility to protect me from your Fathers past. It is him who should protect you from it, fight it,” you finish, him melting at finally feeling your touch after being deprived from it for days.

“I am sorry that my words had affected you as much as they did, my yawntutsyip,” you added, kissing the tip of his nose in reassurance, “I was…so angry and needed to blame something. I know it doesn’t excuse what I said to you. I’m glad you came into my life when you did, even with the consequences that followed.”.

Tears fell from Lo’ak eyes. This was the most you had talked to him since you dismissed him the night of your brother's death. He desperately missed the sound of your voice.

“There’s no need to apologize, my txe’lan,” he replied, bringing your face into his hands as his lips met yours in a gentle kiss. Your lips moved in tandem together, hands going up to grasp whatever body part was closest. He was the first one to pull away from the kiss, not wanting to leave the warmth of your lips against his, “I understand. I just wished that I could’ve protected you from that kind of hurt. You do not deserve that kind of pain,” he continued, resting his forehead against yours.

You didn’t reply to his reassuring words, pulling your lover into a searing kiss, pouring all of your love and affection you held for Lo’ak into the action. You felt guilty for avoiding him for days and that you possibly caused him immense hurt from your words. You wanted him to know that you felt regretful for how you acted.

A soft chuckle fell from Lo’ak lips as they slotted against yours, bringing you even closer by pulling you in by his hands on your face. He knew to take what you had said and how you acted with a grain of salt. He knew that you truly didn’t mean what you said. That you were too overcome with grief to properly think. He was sympathetic towards your situation and tried to understand what you were going through. He would’ve acted the same way if he lost one of his siblings the way you did. He thought you were strong for continuing on even after the traumatic death of your brother. He couldn’t imagine him doing the same if he were in your shoes.

You were the one to pull away from the kiss this time, breathing deeply and heavily as you did so.

“We’ll get through this together. Yeah?” Lo’ak muttered, stroking your jaw with his thumb as he gazed at you through heavy lidded eyes. He wanted to help you in your healing journey and he’d help in any way he could.

You only nodded in response to his words, eyes closing at the repetitive soothing motion of Lo’ak’s thumb on your skin.

You knew that with time, you’d heal and the pain would be easier to deal with, especially if you had Lo’ak by your side. Nothing is ever too broken to be fixed or mended back together and Lo’ak would be there to pick up the pieces if you ever fell back into this state again.

[inlovewithpandora]

- Drawn to You -

Pairing: Ao’nung [20] x fem!Sully!reader [20]

Request: [ @yesimabratandwhataboutot ] Hello love. Can you make a story about aonung × sully fem reader. Y/n was born with the powers to water bend and have wings on her back but they turn into tattoos when she wants to hide them and has a siren like voice that she can attract any animal or any person to her nobody knows about her powers other than her family that's until ao'nung came along. The sully arrived and it's nighttime ao'nung was walking along the beach at night taking a breather until he heard a beautiful siren like voice and when he finds it he sees y/n singing a love song and she is dancing on the water with a water shaped figure that looked exactly like him and animals surrounding her as if they are dancing with her and when aonung was came out to go talk to her she flew away in a panic please. write this please and I love your stories and sorry that this is so long. Can you please write this?🙏🏾🙏🏾

Synopsis: Ao’nung stumbles along the beach and discovers your true form.

Content/Warnings: reader having powers/special abilities, both of them have feelings for each other, reader having a panic moment, concerned Ao’nung, angst if you squint, love confession, first kiss, mention of cuddling, super fluffy and cute Ao’nung, use of y/n, just a overall cute fic

Author’s Note: Thank you for sending in this request I had so much fun writing it! I loved the power/special abilities aspect since it’s something I’ve never written before and I’ve been dying to write some fluffy Ao’nung. I hope I fulfilled your expectations and that you enjoy!

Word Count: 3.0k

Glossary: Uturu - a Na'vi tradition stating that any refugee seeking sanctuary must be granted safe harbor || Awa’atlu - a Metkayina Clan village off the coast of the Eastern Sea || Tsurak - Skimwing || Syulang - Flower

Extra: Requests are closed!

Links: Navigation || Masterlist || Taglist

When your parents told you and your siblings that you were going to seek Uturu among the Metkayina, you were the only one that was excited to explore this new world.

Yes, you would miss the forest deeply since it's the only home you've known, but you wanted to know what Pandora had to offer besides the massive rainforest.

When you arrived at Awa'atlu, you couldn't believe that the whole clan had tattoos just like you. Back in the forest, you were the only na'vi to have such markings along your azure skin, thus to see a whole collection of na'vi with tattoos all over their bodies made you feel less of an outsider for once.

When Ao'nung first noticed the black markings that were intricately drawn on your back, he wondered why you had them when the other members of your family didn't.

However, your tattoos weren't the only thing that interested him...

The way you seem so connected with aquatic life, and your ability to successfully tame a Tsurak with barely any struggle or force. The way you just stepped into the water, and the Tsurak instantly succumbed to you baffled him. He's never seen anyone do anything like that before.

When he, Tsireya, and Rotxo first took you and your siblings swimming, you (and Kiri) were the only ones who didn't need to go up for air. You stayed underwater for almost the same duration as he could.

You’ve just started learning the way of water and you somehow have already perfected it.

Whenever he saw you walk around the village, carrying baskets full of either weaving materials or fruits you foraged from the jungle you always filled his ears with a beautiful hum of your favorite hometree song which always made him want to hear your true vocal abilities.

He was intrigued and interested in you, to say the least. You both have talked before, but both of you were always too caught up in presuming what the other person thought, so you both never confessed your feelings to each other yet.

You always wondered if his heart skipped a beat for you like yours did whenever you caught the slightest glimpse of him, or if he always felt nervous whenever talking to you. You wished you could know what he was thinking and how he truly felt.

Unbeknownst to you, you would get your answer sooner than you thought.

—

The sun has set and the darkness has been cast upon Awa'atlu. It was the middle of the night and the village was dead silent. Everyone was home sleeping peacefully, trying to rest up for the day to come except for Ao'nung.

He couldn't sleep, so he thought that taking a quiet walk along the beach would help his body relax and eventually grow drowsy.

As he felt the sand crunch in between his toes, all he could think about was you. He has been trying to gather up the courage to profess his love for you, but his nerves kept getting in the way and making him back out.

Upon beginning to get consumed by his thoughts, he heard a beautiful siren-like voice from a distance that made his ears perk up in suspicion.

Hearing the faint words, he began to recognize the song. It was the same song his mother sang whenever she grazed over the small shell totem on her songcord that contained a specific memory of her and his father.

The song Ao'nung recognized was a love song.

He began to follow the angelic tune, wanting to know who this incredible voice belonged to. As he walked to the end of the beach, the part that was extremely secluded, the voice became louder.

'I must be close.' He thought.

He bent one more corner and that's when he found the beholder of the voice.

You were dancing gracefully along the clear blue water, continuing to sing the love song that drew Ao'nung to you as if you were magnetic. As you glided along the water, multiple aquatic creatures began to swim around you, their bioluminescent glow making the water shine ever so beautifully.

He looked from behind the boulder. He was standing in the front, having a clear view of you dancing with a water-shaped figure.

'I wonder who that's supposed to be...' He continued observing you, wanting to know what was going to happen next.

As if you could read his mind, you turned to a different angle giving him a full view of the figure. At first, he couldn't interpret anything until he noticed the outline of a Metkayina physique, a curly braided bun, and the shape of what's supposed to be a talon necklace.

Once he put the full image together in his mind, his eyes widened. "Oh, my Eywa! That’s supposed to be me." He whispers in disbelief.

Ao'nung had so many questions at this point. How were you floating on water? Why were animals so attracted to you? And why were you dancing with a figurine of him?

You didn't even know Ao'nung was watching. You were so wrapped up in dancing and serenading the figurine Ao'nung you didn't even realize the real Ao'nung was standing right behind you.

"y/n!"

Hearing the voice you already knew who it belonged to which sent you into panic mode. Your voice became lodged in your throat, the figure dissolved into the water, the animals that were surrounding you swam away, and you... you were freaking out.

The panicky feeling spread through your body like wildfire. You couldn't believe Ao'nung saw you like this, in your true form. The one thing you didn't want him to see because you knew it would scare him off. And knowing that he saw you dancing with something that was a replica of him made you feel even more embarrassed.

The only thing you wanted to do was get yourself out of this awkward and embarrassing situation, therefore that's what you did. Your tattoos morphed into your set of wings and you began to flap them into the air, trying to gain enough wind to fly away to any place but here.

When Ao'nung saw your wings he was awestruck. He couldn't believe the sight before him. The small patterns of black that went along your see-through navy blue wings were a breathtaking sight in Ao'nung's eyes. With the way he gawked at you and your beauty, he didn't even realize you started flying away until he heard swooshes and felt big gusts of wind impacting his skin.

"y/n, wait! Don't go! I just wanted to talk!" He yelled out trying to get your attention, hoping you would come back, but it was too late. You were already searching for a place far from the village and him.

He couldn't just go back home as if he didn't see you, as if you didn't show your feelings for him right before his eyes, so he had to find you.

He went to the shore and called for his ilu. As soon as the ilu came to him, he immediately mounted it and began searching for you. He started by looking at the little nearby islands before going farther out.

He was determined to talk to you now more than ever. He was going to find you, even if he had to search all night.

To him, you were worth the manhunt.

—

After a while of flying, you found a small secluded spot. It was made of rocks and other items Eywa provided in nature. As you sat down on the rocky material all you could do was think about how your powers and abilities were outed and to make matters worse they were to Ao'nung.

The boy that filled your heart with warmth saw you with your guard down.

There were so many thoughts swarming around your mind you couldn't think about just one.

'What if he tells his parents?'

'Does he think I'm weird?'

'He's probably telling the whole clan what a freak I am.’

'If he did have feelings for me they've vanished now.’

As the waves crashed into the rocks and water splashed lightly against your skin, you distinguished a voice calling out for you.

Upon hearing your name, you turned around and made the figure of Ao'nung riding his ilu towards you.

'Why is he here?' You wondered as stood up while letting out your wings in an attempt to fly away again.

"Wait, y/n! I just want to talk to you please!" He pleaded, walking up to you in hope that you would stay and listen to him.

Seeing the genuineness in his features, you retracted your wings and slowly walked up to him. "What is it Ao'nung?" You asked in a defensive tone as you still didn't let all your guards down.

"I just- After you left I wanted to talk to you. You left so quickly that I didn't have a chance to say anything."

"Well, I already knew what you were going to say, so there wasn't any reason for me to stay."

"And what was it?" He asked in a curious tone, wondering what was going through your mind.

"That I'm weird for dancing across the water and having wings as if I'm an ikran. I know you probably think I'm a freak because of my powers."

As you rambled, everything you spoke was negative, nothing you said about yourself was good and Ao'nung heard enough of you talking bad about yourself.

"y/n, that isn't what I was going to say at all.'' He moved his feet across the rocks, trying to be as close to you as much as you would allow.

"You weren't?" You asked in a small voice, the defensiveness that was laced in your tone dropped and hope seeped its way into your heart as you began to wonder what he wanted to express.

Ao'nung shook his head in response. "No, not at all." He looked deep into your honey eyes, almost as if he was staring at your soul.

"So what were you going to say, then?" You asked while moving your gaze from his face to your feet. Making eye contact with him was nerve-racking. Each time you looked into his cerulean eyes, you got lost within them, as if they would cast a hypnotic spell on you.

Ao'nung gently placed his hand on your chin and lifted your head so you could look at him as he spoke. "I was going to tell you that you sounded amazing while you were singing and your powers, the ability to do the things you do are truly a gift from Eywa. I don't think you're a freak, weird or anything of that sort. I think you're kind, sweet, special, talented, and most importantly beautiful."

As his words fell upon your ears, you could feel your heart rapidly beating as if it would leap out of your chest at any given moment. 'Beautiful. He thinks I'm beautiful.' Yes, you did hear the other sweet things he said, but beautiful is what stuck out to you the most.

Him calling you beautiful only meant one thing: he had feelings for you.

A mauve tint began to appear on your cheeks as you felt the sensation of his large hand on your chin, lightly stroking your cheek every so often."Y-you think I'm beautiful?" You crocked out.

"I think you are the most gorgeous woman my eyes have ever witnessed..." Ao'nung was trying to figure out if this was the right time, the time to tell you how he truly felt. He was nervous about expressing his love for you, he doesn't open up to everyone, so to wear his heart on his sleeve with you would be a big deal for him.

'No better time than the present.' Ao'nung took a deep breath and began to spill out the thoughts that he's kept inside for a long time.

"I know you've only been living among my people for a few months, but my heart has grown for you. From the first moment I saw you, I wanted you, but I was too scared to say anything. However now, I want to shout from the highest hilltop that... I love you. y/n I'm in love with you and I want to be yours if you'll allow me." He ended his confession with an affectionate smile, moving his hand from your face to the nape of your neck which sent a shiver down your spine.

You couldn't believe it. You've been wanting to hear this from Ao'nung for months and you had the exact response you wanted to give planned out in your head. But now, actually being in the moment you didn't know what to say. Your head was jumbled with a million different responses you could say, but each time you pried your lips open, no words could come out.

Ao'nung watched the way your lips would quiver each time you tried to say a new phrase, but no words were spoken. He honestly thought it was cute to see you flustered like this.

"Talk to me, syulang. Tell me what's going through that pretty little head of yours."

By him saying that, the blush spread across your face only intensified and you finally found the words you wanted to say. "I would love nothing more than you becoming mine."

You saying that sent Ao'nung into a state of bliss. His smile got wider, the tension he felt vanished, and his tail began to thump against the rocks below him. You've officially made him feel like he was the luckiest man alive, knowing that you felt the same, that you wanted him to be your boyfriend made him feel complete.

A chuckle erupted from your throat as you watched Ao'nung’s eyes go back and forth from your lush lips to your golden eyes. "You know if you wanted to kiss me you could've just said that, you don't have to keep eyeing me like I'm a piece of meat."

Hearing you playfully tease him only made a smirk curl onto his lips. "Mmmm, well, I guess I should go for it then."

"I think you should." You challenged

Without having to utter another word, Ao'nung began to lean in towards you. His lips became just centimeters apart from yours which made a tingling sensation run through your body. Ao'nung flickered his eyes at you one last time before closing them completely and pressing his lips against yours.

The softness of his teal lips against yours made your lungs clench. The way his large hands traveled slowly down your body, caressing every inch of your skin made your stomach tingle with pleasure. Kissing him made you feel like Eywa herself graced you with her presence, the way Ao’nung made you feel was unimaginable.

The kiss lasted merely a few minutes but it felt like you could've explored his lips forever and never grow tired. As both of you pulled apart you could feel his touch lingering against you, his warm breath gliding over your lips made your skin prickle.

“I love you, Ao’nung.” You whispered as you placed your hand on his cheek while looking up at him with tender eyes that swirled with endearment.

“I love you too, y/n, so much.”

For the rest of the night, both of you sat down on the rock and cuddled, talking about anything and everything that came into your minds while sharing a few kisses here and there in between, lips attracted like a magnet.

With your head laid on his chest and your arm wrapped around his torso you felt like nothing could ruin this beautiful moment between the both of you. After all, you both waited for this moment for a long time and literally nothing could come between you or tear you apart, at least for the night being.

Right now being together was the only thing that mattered.

The more you two talked, Ao’nung realized that he hasn’t asked you the burning question he’s been wanting to know since he found you floating across the water. “y/n?” He whispered gently, not wanting to startle you in your peaceful state.

“Yes, Ao’nung?”

“I have a question…” He said as he began to sit up slowly, wanting to look at you fully while he talked.

“Okay, ask away.” You looked at him, deep inside knowing all about his wonders. It’s not like you were oblivious to the whirrs churning in his head all night.

“How did you get your powers?” And there comes the awaited question.

I hope you enjoyed🩷!

Previous Fic

Likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated🩷!

A/N: I want to give the biggest shoutout to my amazing editor @justmemyselfandthemoon for making this fic 10x better! She’s the best at what she does!

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©️inlovewithpandora ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 | All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[deathlessathanasia]

“Epic makes of Poseidon a great lord of the sea, emerging from his palace under the waves near Aegae to aid the Achaeans in battle, or rousing a storm to drown Odysseus on his raft. But Poseidon himself is a complex Mycenaean deity whose origins lie further inland; he is the Earth-Shaker, an ancestral god with ties to freshwater springs and horses. Even in the Iliad (13.10–30), the dominant image is that of Poseidon as a charioteer, driving his golden-maned horses over the sea. He himself is not a personification of the sea, but its ruler. If Poseidon is a lord of elemental forces, his Nereid consort Amphitrite is more closely identified in the Odyssey with the element itself: she breeds many monsters (Odyssey 5.417–22, 12.90) and the waves are hers (Odyssey 3.85, 12.55). Amphitrite is more than a literary invention; she often appears in cultic contexts with Poseidon, as at Isthmia (Pausanias 2.1.7). An archaic votive dump at Penteskouphia near Corinth yielded clay pinakes depicting Amphitrite with smaller-sized worshipers, or riding in a chariot with Poseidon.

In Greek mythology, the gods who represent the sea share its unbounded nature as the source of creatures formless and strange to human eyes. Monsters and shape-shifters, the latter often possessed of prophetic powers, come from the sea. Nereus and his congeners Proteus and Glaucus are Masters of Animals who control the supply of fish and other marine animals. In Greek fishermen’s folklore, these Old Men of the Sea were elusive shape-changers who could tell one’s fortune if captured. In Greek religious practice, on the other hand, the overriding concern with regard to the sea was safe travel. Many gods could be called upon to protect mariners, especially those resident in harbor towns (often Aphrodite or Poseidon). The Dioscuri, who appeared in ships’ rigging during storms in the form of St Elmo’s fire, were popularly viewed as saviors who warded off disaster at sea (Alcaeus fr. 34 Campbell).

Homer was also instrumental in shaping the image of the sea nymphs called Nereids, who were closely associated with the story of Achilles. Thetis, the Nereid mother of the hero, seems to have played an important role in early Greek cosmology; the Iliad alludes to her rescue and/or sheltering of Zeus, Dionysus, and Hephaestus in their times of need, while she figures in a fragment of Alcman as ‘‘the origin of all,’’ a primal creative force (Calame 1983 fr. 81). Thetis was destined to bear a son more powerful than his father and thus posed a threat to any god, including Zeus, who pursued her. Like Ge, she was imagined as a powerful primordial figure, who first threatened, then helped to bring about, the cosmic order, allowing herself to be subordinated in the process. Slatkin (1991:79) relates Thetis’ humble status in Homeric epic to the fact that her cult, unlike those of the Olympian gods, remained geographically limited. One of the few cults of Thetis belonged to Cape Sepias in Thessaly, where the Persians, having suffered heavy damage in a storm, sacrificed to her and the Nereids as local deities (Herodotus 7.191). A venerable Spartan cult of Thetis (Pausanias 3.14.4) may have inspired Alcman’s cosmological verses. Altars and thank offerings to the Nereids as a group, on the other hand, are relatively common. Like other marine deities, they could prevent disasters at sea. An early example is Sappho’s prayer to Cypris (Aphrodite) and the Nereids (fr. 5 Campbell) for the safe sea journey of her brother Charaxus. Ino/Leucothea, who was transformed into a Nereid after leaping from a cliff into the sea, saved Odysseus from drowning by giving him her magical veil (Odyssey 5.33–8). With her son Palaemon, also a sea-god and guardian of ships, Ino was honored at Poseidon’s sanctuary of Isthmia and elsewhere. Leucothea and Palaemon possessed a dual identity as drowned mortals (hence the chthonic and funerary elements in their cults) and as reborn gods who offered salvation to sailors in peril and the hope of an afterlife to those who drowned. Far more than the terrestrial nymphs, the Nereids were associated with death and rebirth. In epic, they play an important role as mourners of Patroclus and Achilles (Iliad 18.282–313; Odyssey 24.45–89), while post-Homeric literature and art focused on their ability to confer a blessed afterlife on the deceased, just as Thetis brought Achilles to the White Island in the Euxine where he was immortalized.”

 - Jennifer Larson, A Land Full of Gods: Nature Deities in Greek Religion, in A Companion to Greek Religion

[phoenix-downer]

Survivors Chapter 3

Survivors: ~1050 words. Cal makes up his mind.

Story Info: Cal Kestis/Merrin. Set during Jedi: Survivor. Canon Compliant, Alternating POVs, Missing Scenes. Romance, Fluff, Introspection, Mutual Pining.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 

Jedha felt like home. Merrin never thought another place would once she’d left Dathomir, but she’d been proven wrong.

Or maybe it wasn’t the place so much as it was the people. Cal spoke of Force Echoes left by the inhabitants of a planet, their memories and feelings associated with particular places that remained long after they were gone. He could read them as easily as one might scan a Holomap for information. 

And now Jedha had many such echoes for her. Many of them were related to Cere, the Anchorites, and now Eno Cordova and Bode as well. But the ones related to Cal, well…

They are in a league of their own.

He was currently looking out over the desert scenery unfolding below. The sky was the color of slate, and the desert at night was deceptively calm. She knew how many nocturnal animals were out and about right now, many of which would be very unpleasant to encounter without the proper preparation, but this spot was a safe little oasis. At last she and Cal could be alone together. 

She casually strolled over and leaned against the rocky ledge next to him. Her life had taught her to never waste an opportunity, to leave nothing to chance. And something about tonight felt crucially important. She knew she must speak with him now or risk losing her chance forever.

“What a view, huh?” he said, acknowledging her presence at his side like it was completely natural. “Desert at night seems to stretch on forever.”

She took in the view with him. Jedha had a stark, majestic beauty of its own. The Sanctuary Temple and other buildings the Jedi Order had built long ago felt as much a part of the desert as the rocky bluffs, jagged spires, and windswept valleys. The solitude of this place helped her focus and made her path forward clear.

“There is beauty in emptiness,” she said.

He looked at her, and she returned his gaze. His expression was very earnest and unguarded and sincere, not at all the cool, aloof armor he’d tried so desperately to squeeze himself into. It had never fit him right, and so it felt good seeing Cal just be Cal. To see the man she loved unmasked, to know his real self beneath all the Jedi trappings.

“Now you sound like a Jedi,” he teased, and he sounded very amused by this fact.

“They got a few things right,” she conceded, responding with some teasing of her own. She turned around and casually leaned against the ledge, curious what he would say next.

“Hmm,” was his response, but a pleased little smile was on his face. In his defense, she had come a far way from the hatred of the Jedi she’d harbored in her heart when they had first met all those years ago.

“Even I can admit when they were right.” Her expression softened. “You showed me what a Jedi could and should be, Cal.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” was his soft response. “But they weren’t right about everything.”

It was funny how just a few words from him could change everything. She straightened, her lips parting as she searched his face. After all this time, was he finally going to give in? Was he finally going to stop being so maddeningly, infuriatingly restrained?

He ducked his head, as if his moment of braveness had temporarily fled him. Well, it was not a surprise. These things were very new to him, and she suspected he was fighting years of Jedi training right now. A battle much harder than many of the enemies he’d faced over the years, but one definitely worth fighting.

“Look, uh…” Summoning his courage, he met her eyes again, then rested a hand over hers. His hand was strong and calloused, shaped by years of gripping a lightsaber. And yet it was gentle and reassuring too.

Or perhaps he was seeking reassurance from her as much as he was offering it.

“The Order’s gone,” he said, his voice steady and even. “It’s time to leave it behind. And…I know what I want now.”

She smiled, her giddiness shining through. “Took you long enough.” Finally. He could finally be the kind of Jedi he wanted to be free from the fetters of the Jedi Order. It was not a decision she could have made for him—it was something he’d had to choose for himself. And he had chosen it. Her patience had paid off at long last.

He had not come to this decision lightly. She knew him too well to know this was anything but easy for him. And yet, he was choosing her. Of all the people in the galaxy, he wanted to be with her. 

She wanted to be with him too.

Reaching towards him, she cupped his cheek, and he wrapped an arm around her in a way that made her heart race. He was not staying still this time. He was not keeping his hands at his sides or letting them awkwardly flail in the air so long as they were anywhere but around her. She liked this Cal very much, this Cal who did not stand there passively but reciprocated her affections.

She leaned in close for a quick peck, then pulled away a little to see what he would do. He initiated the next kiss, his free hand weaving into her hair. She deepened the kiss, and she was surprised but pleased at how unrestrained and eager he was in response. All the years of waiting for him to embrace his feelings, to embrace her, were at an end.

They were the only two people on this lonely desert bluff, bringing an end to the vast emptiness. There was beauty in the emptiness, but there was so much more beauty in filling that emptiness with good things. Wonderful things. Tonight was just the beginning.

Two survivors had found each other and were forging a way forward. She did not know why she and Cal were still alive when so many of their loved ones had passed. But they both knew they had to keep on living. To make the most of the time they had left. 

And when she and Cal were together, they were home.

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

A/N: Thank you for reading! I really enjoyed exploring Cal and Merrin's thoughts and feelings more as their romance unfolded during Jedi: Survivor. I hope you all enjoyed! Thank you for the likes and reblogs!

[desolades]

EXT. THE FOREST DAY

Sunlight  breaks  through  the  treetops,  speckles  of  gold  falling  on  them  in  splashes  of  light.  The  day  is  warm,  comforting,  safe.  Up  in  the  trees  birds  exchange  calls  in  an  explosion  of  music,  the  joyful  screeches  of  kids  somewhere  near,  a  man  calling  their  friends    to  ‘wait  up’.  They  are  close  enough  to  the  visitor’s  center  that  the  noise  of  civilization  infects  the  natural  symphony  of  the  forest.  The  scene  should  feel  comfortable,  heartwarming  even,  in  a  very  quotidianly  human  way,  yet  it  feels  misaligned.  Its  edges  poke  him  in  all  the  wrong  places,  all  he  can  hear  is  the  people.  He  drowns  in  the  ambience  of  mankind.  Someone  laughs  boisterously  and  it’s  like  needles  piercing  his  bones.

His  eyes  fall  back  on  @fatedcuriosity,  some  professor  or  intellectual,  she’s  speaking,  explaining  something.  He  attempts  to  smile  and  nod,  but  the  words  rush  at  him  in  a  torrent,  he  can’t  catch  them  fast  enough  or  understand  them.  In  the  backdrop,  he  can  hear  the  trees  creak  around  them,  the  forest  shifting,  unsettled.  No,  not  unsettled,  angry.  Moss  writhes  under  boots,  the  deadwood  seethes  at  the  clamor  of  cheers  and  gleeful  cries.  Vines  wrap  around  themselves,  roots  knot  like  clenched  fists.  Somewhere  deep  in  the  forest,  a  woman  trips  and  falls  on  the  ground,  her  legs  giving  up  from  under  her.  She  has  been  wandering  for  hours,  exhausted,  the  sharp-cold  fear  of  being  lost  slowly lodges  in  her  chest,  and with it her  own  frail  mortality  becomes  terrifyingly  clear.  She  looks  up  and,  there  it  is,  like  a  lighthouse  amidst  a  stormy  sea.  A  little  𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎  at  the  end  of  a  path  flanked  by  silverbells,  tiny  white  flowers  blanket  the  ground  like  fresh  snow.  Smoke  rises  from  the  chimney,  the  faint  smell  of  something  sweet  in  the  air,  cinnamon  and  apples,  like  her  grandmother’s  home.  The  only  safe  harbor  of  her  childhood.

“  Who  knows  what  is  truth,  and  what  is  story?  ”  he  catches  the  final  string  of  words  before  they  slip  away,  then  stands  there  unsure  of  what  to  do  with  it.  Speak!  The cue is up, It's  your  turn to say your lines,  old  man.  

Silence  stretches  for  a  second  too  long  as  he  tries  to  remember  how  the  mechanism  of  his  mouth  is  meant  to  work,  the  scent  of  cinnamon  in the early spring air tickles  his  nose.  “  To  be  fair,  most  is  story,  ”  he  smiles  apologetically,  the  words  spoken  with  someone  else’s  voice.  A  foreign  feeling  settles  into  him,  carried  by  the  smell  of  mud  and  fresh  soil  under  his  feet. He looks down, a  little  silverbell  has  been  stamped  on  the  earth  by  his  own  boot.  Sadness—  an  abyssal,  lonesome  sadness,  left  to  fester with the ages.  Pain,  hatred.  A  wounded  animal  that  retreats  to  its  cave  to  lick  its  wounds,  a  caged  animal,  pacing  the  limits  of  its  enclosure.  Hating  everything  outside,  everything  that  dares  encroach  upon  the  dwindling  sanctuaries  it  clings  to.  He  resents  this  woman  snooping  around  his  forest.  He must. It is a command. “  There  is  no  great  mystery.  The  forest  is  big,  people  get  lost.  We  make  up  stories  to  cope,  and  to  caution  others  so  it  doesn’t  repeat.  ”  Again,  that  voice  which  is  not  his  voice.  Amused,  almost  dismissive.  

[thewatcher727]

Sonic X: Gotta Go Fast Again - Chapter 5: A Gathering Storm

Sonic X: Gotta Go Fast again is a thrilling continuation of the beloved anime, promising action-packed escapades and heartwarming moments as our heroes embark on their next chapter! Available for Reading on AO3 & FF!

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14344080/5/Sonic-X-Gotta-Go-Fast-Again

Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54991219/chapters/141302080

Preview:

High above the earth, atop the lofty heights of Angel Island, Knuckles stood overlooking his cherished homeland. He had never felt better about being back here, his sense of duty and responsibility to the Master Emerald reaffirmed. The island, bathed in its serene natural beauty, had always been his sanctuary, a place of solitude and contemplation.

Of course, there had been moments of irritation and frustration. He couldn't easily forget when Sonic and his friends had taken the Master Emerald to power the Blue Typhoon, the nerve of them to be mad at him when he had voiced his rightful anger at having his property taken without consent. Yet, his sense of duty had compelled him to accompany them on their mission to thwart the Metarex, an alliance that had ultimately proven invaluable. It was safe to say that without Knuckles' presence to power the Master Emerald, their victory might have been beyond reach.

As the weather on the island turned gloomy, with overcast skies and the persistent patter of rain, Knuckles couldn't help but be grateful for the return to his home. However, even in the midst of his relief, emotions swirled within him, a tumultuous mix of thoughts and feelings that he couldn't easily shake off.

A profound sense of failure gnawed at the core of his being. His role as the guardian was to protect the Master Emerald above all else, and yet, the once-majestic gem lay fragmented behind him. He knew, of course, that it would eventually heal and return to its former glory, but that knowledge didn't assuage the weight of responsibility that he bore.

His thoughts then drifted to Cosmo, and a wave of sorrow washed over him. She had been a remarkable soul, gentle and kind-hearted, never harboring ill intentions toward anyone. Her selfless sacrifice to stop Dark Oak, her own father, had left a profound impact on Knuckles. It was a testament to her courage and the depths of her love for their world.

However, beneath the grief and admiration, anger smoldered within Knuckles like a smoldering ember. How could a father be so cruel, so willing to harm his own child for his ambitions? The memory of Tikal's visions resurfaced in his mind, a haunting reminder of the past. He had witnessed the depths of her suffering, the pain and destruction inflicted by her own father, a tragedy that had ultimately led to the downfall of their civilization.

Knuckles couldn't help but clench his fists, the memory serving as a grim reminder of the capacity for cruelty that some individuals possessed. He knew that he needed to stay vigilant, to protect not only the Master Emerald but also the precious lives and fragile peace of his world from those who would seek to harm them.

"I wonder if the others are doing okay," Knuckles mused aloud, his fists clenching involuntarily as his thoughts turned toward his friends.

The truth was that he hadn't seen any of them since their return home, with the exception of Chris. Knuckles had always been somewhat reserved within the group, often preferring solitude and only intervening when the situation demanded it. Social gatherings and idle chit chat weren't his forte, but that didn't mean he didn't miss his friends on occasion.

The camaraderie they shared, the bond forged through countless adventures and trials, was something that Knuckles couldn't deny he treasured. Each member of the team brought their own unique strengths and perspectives, and together, they had achieved remarkable feats. Now, in the wake of recent events, he couldn't help but wonder how they were coping, if they were safe, and if they too carried the weight of their own struggles.

The sudden disruption in the trees around him sent a ripple of tension through Knuckles, causing him to jolt in surprise. In an instant, his instincts kicked in, and he turned on his heel, fists raised and ready for whatever had disturbed the tranquility of Angel Island.

[southjerseyweb]

A flood of problems for a South Jersey sanctuary - NBC New York

Sanctuary animals in South Jersey are looking for a help after rain storms have flooded the grounds of Kimmy's Safe Haven in Egg Harbor City.

[citywide-roofing-sacramento]

The Natural Grandeur of Safe Harbor Emeryville

Nestled within the picturesque landscapes of The golden state, Safe Harbor Emeryville becomes a sanctuary of all-natural splendor and tranquility. Considered an idyllic hideaway for both locals and travelers alike, it boasts a selection of local attractions that mix easily with its tranquil environment.

From interesting art galleries to welcoming parks and routes, this place uses an one-of-a-kind combinations of social experiences set against the impressive background of its marina.

The perfect appeal of Safe Harbor Emeryville is additional highlighted by its awe-inspiring marina views. A breathtaking vista presenting an unified interaction between land and water, the marina acts as a consistent suggestion of nature's majesty. It is not simply a sight to see but also fosters a mood that attracts people looking for relief from their chaotic way of lives.

The linking components offer site visitors a sense of belonging, while concurrently instilling in them a recognition for the splendid tapestry woven naturally herself.

Exploring the Neighborhood Destinations

Amongst the destinations that astound visitors to Safe Harbor Emeryville are its diverse neighborhood shops, exquisite eating places, and captivating art galleries, all including an unique beauty to this all-natural paradise.

The local shops supply an eclectic range of products from handcrafted mementos to premium fashion accessories, showing the community's blend of standard and contemporary societies.

A number of diners and restaurants supply gastronomic thrills varying from in your area sourced seafood recipes to worldwide cuisine, serving both food aficionados and informal diners alike.

Art enthusiasts would be enthralled by the various art galleries presenting jobs by renowned artists along with emerging talents in various tools.

Additional improving the attraction of Safe Harbor Emeryville is its wide range of outside activities set against sensational landscapes.

Nature tracks provide possibilities for wild animals detecting, birdwatching, or simply enjoying calm strolls in the middle of lavish greenery.

Water sporting activities lovers can take part in sailing or kayaking on azure waters while those looking for leisurely quests could choose beach barbecues with awesome sights of sundowns.

It is notable that these experiences promote a sense of link with nature and neighborhood engagement-- key elements adding towards fulfilling the subconscious need for belonging among site visitors to Safe Harbor Emeryville.

Taking Pleasure In the Picturesque Marina Views

Marvelous marina panoramas captivate visitors, supplying a captivating getaway overflowing with boats bobbing carefully in the peaceful sea. The landscape of Safe Harbor Emeryville unfolds like a splendid canvas painted naturally herself, where the lively hues of sunset merge with the sparkling blue waters to produce a spectacle that is both comforting and invigorating.

This stunning setting provides a spectacular background for leisurely strolls along waterside pathways, where one can absorb breathtaking sights of moored vessels and far-off city horizons. An ever-changing tableau of light and shade, this marina view symbolizes harmony and charm in its raw kind. A tapestry of luxury yachts and sailboats at anchor, their poles creating a striking shape versus the sky. Twinkles of sunshine dancing on the water surface producing exciting patterns. The view of seabirds skyrocketing freely over or diving right into the sea for their catch. Remote cityscapes supplying a raw comparison to the natural splendor unraveling at close quarters. The play of colors during sunrise or sundown as they show off tranquil waters including a spiritual top quality to the surroundings.

Such elements not only add to the aesthetic appeal however also develop a feeling of connection with nature. These vistas function as reminders that among metropolitan existence there exists areas that inspire peace and serenity; spaces that urge self-contemplation while simultaneously generating feelings of admiration and marvel.

It is this blend of serenity, elegance, and grandeur that makes Safe Harbor Emeryville's marina views really remarkable.

[borneocalling95959]

Conquering the Majestic Heights: A Journey to Mount Kinabalu

The towering peak of Mount Kinabalu stands as a majestic testament to the natural wonders that grace the Earth's surface. Nestled in the heart of Borneo's Kinabalu Park, this iconic mountain offers a challenging yet rewarding adventure for trekkers, nature enthusiasts, and thrill-seekers alike. With its breathtaking landscapes, rich biodiversity, and cultural significance, a journey to Mount Kinabalu is an experience that promises to leave an indelible mark on your heart and soul.

The Journey of a Lifetime

Embarking on the journey to conquer Mount Kinabalu is no small feat, but the rewards are immeasurable. The primary trail to the summit, known as the Kinabalu Summit Trail, takes trekkers through a series of distinct vegetation zones, each harboring a unique array of flora and fauna. From mossy forests shrouded in mist to alpine meadows showcasing colorful blossoms, the trail is a living tapestry that unravels the secrets of evolution and adaptation.The final ascent to the summit begins in the early hours, offering a mesmerizing experience as the first rays of dawn paint the sky in hues of gold and pink. As you stand atop the granite peak, the sense of accomplishment mingles with awe, and the panoramic views of Borneo's lush landscapes and neighboring islands are nothing short of awe-inspiring.

A Sanctuary of Biodiversity

Kinabalu Park, a UNESCO World Heritage Site encompassing Mount Kinabalu, is renowned for its unparalleled biodiversity. Home to thousands of plant species, including the famous pitcher plants and orchids, as well as a diverse range of animal species, from the elusive clouded leopard to the vibrant Kinabalu ferret-badger, the park is a living laboratory for scientists and a paradise for nature lovers.

Cultural Significance and Local Wisdom

For the indigenous communities that call the surrounding area home, Mount Kinabalu is more than just a geographical landmark; it holds deep cultural significance. The Kadazan-Dusun people believe that the mountain is the final resting place of their ancestors' spirits. Exploring the cultural elements woven into the fabric of this region adds a layer of depth to the Mount Kinabalu experience, offering a glimpse into the traditions and beliefs that have shaped local life for generations.

Practical Tips and Considerations

Embarking on a journey to Mount Kinabalu requires careful planning and preparation. Acclimatization to the altitude is crucial, and trekking permits are necessary. It is advisable to book your climb well in advance, as the number of daily permits is limited. Packing appropriate clothing, including layers for varying weather conditions, sturdy footwear, and essential hiking gear, is essential for a safe and comfortable ascent.

For More Info :-

Tour Mount Kinabalu

[deputy-ajay-ghale]

Want some The Collector Characters & Their Daemons?

Arkin & Sia; jackrabbit

- As you will find out (or bc you saw my etymology post), even the daemons’s names are significant. Arkin’s name is old Norse, so I gave his daemon one that means “victory”. I picked a jackrabbit to go with the theme of Arkin being prey to the Collector, are an animal that are considered pests that you can trap, as a representation of his evasiveness and agility, and bc jackrabbits are an animal that symbolize intuition and creativity.

The Collector & black fox

- The Collector gets a fox who, like him, goes unnamed and doesn’t speak. I’d imagine the Collector’s daemon isn’t the prettiest thing, looks very feral and every inch a predator. We can see I picked Arkin and the Collector’s daemons to match. Given what little we know of the Collector, I can totally see him and his daemon being like Mrs. Coulter and her monkey and being able to be separated, either because they chose to learn how to be apart or because of his father isolating them when he kills their family. Foxes are also known as clever, crafty animals, so this was a safe but fun for me choice. Of course, I also picked foxes because like jackrabbits, they’re hunted by animals and humans, and what happens to the Collector at the end of the second movie? >:3c It’s also my headcanon that the Collector is queer bc of his reaction to Arkin’s use of f.ag and me shipping Collectkin, so he gets a male daemon.

Larry & Laurel; carpenter ant

- My The Collector Daemon AU headcanon is that the Collector picks his victim on if they have an insect daemon. Larry gets an ant bc of the fact that ants are all workers for their colony, and Larry is used by the Collector as bait, a battering ram, and a shock absorber.

Victoria & Hogan; peacock

- Imma be honest, I don’t care enough about Victoria to give her an original daemon. Clearly, she cares about her vanity which is linked to beauty and so are peacocks, b u t peacocks are pretty good parents and Victoria does beg Arkin to save Hannah multiple times. I did put more thought into her daemon’s name. Hogan means “safe harbor” and “sanctuary.”Michael is the one to tell Arkin that Victoria insists on having bars on the window and she tells him too that she “prepared for rape and robbery.” Despite living far away from other people, Victoria didn’t let pastoral theory deter her from trying to make her home a safe place for her family.

Elena & Kohl; black witch moth

- While Elena has a name that means light in different languages, I chose Kohl because it’s a black substance used as makeup around the eyes. And what do black witch moths have on their wings? Spots that look like eyes. They’re considered messengers of death, but Hawaiians apparently see them as “embodiment of the person's soul returning to say goodbye.” I could see Kohl settling after Elena loses her mother.

Lucello & Nerezza; cane corso

- 10/10 will always love Lucello and Elena having matching names given their relationship, so obviously Nerezza means dark to go with Kohl. Cane corsos are an Italian dog breed that mean “guard of the courtyard.” They’re a well loved breed for guard dogs. I also love the idea that Lucello’s fake death involves him getting mauled by dogs while having a dog daemon.

Paz & Guerra; green cheeked Amazon parrot

- I considered giving all the mercs dog daemons bc of HDM canon, but I decided to let Lucello and Paz have unique ones. Guerra means “war” to go with Paz’s peace. I picked a parrot because of parrots copying humans and wanting to connect a talking parrot to the trap laid by the Collector by luring what remained of the team and Abby by the sound of Paz’s voice.

Abby & Sunny; dogbane beetle

- Beetles represent the sun as well as being seen as symbolizing death and bad luck. I don’t need to walk you down this route, what does Abby do in the movie? Her and Sunny deserved better.

Hannah & Ruby; unsettled ladybug

- I like to think that as a gemstone broker, Michael chose to name his daughters’ daemons after jewels to signify the preciousness of his children (Jill is named after one of her grandmothers). And because of Ruby’s name, Ruby takes the form of a ladybug while Hannah is still young enough to not settle. I think the Collector’s never taken a child for his collection, but I think as a man of science, he’d be fascinated by the prospect of having someone whose daemon is unsettled as part of his collection.

Missy & Bailey; tiger

- Bailey comes from Barnum & Bailey Circus bc.. tiger. What are they? Predators bigger than a fox. What are tigers in a circus? Caged animals. How does Missy die? Being crushed to death in a cage. Are tigers too big to escape from a cage? Yes.

Anyways, that’s it.

[nina-wrote-this]

Mercy - One Shot

Pairing: Negan x Grimes Daughter!Reader

Summary: Negan needs to give you a terrible notice about your family.

Word Count: 965 words

Warnings: Sadness; Depression; Anxiety; Death;

A/N: Hey, everyone! So, this is my *first time* posting my writing, and I'm SUPER exciting about it. I hope you guys enjoy and If you find any typos, please let me know. English is not my mother tongue.

THE WALKING DEAD SEASON 8 SPOILERS AHEAD!

You were stuck in Sanctuary since Negan decide you would be his new toy and one more way to persuade your father, Rick.

Could not leave with Daryl, when you two had the chance, broke you and this made you didn’t want to do simple things like eat, sleep or even get out of your room. You did not die, but life has been gone for you since you left Alexandria.

Sometimes you felt Negan had a kind of pleasure seeing you that way, maybe because he knew it this would make Rick go nuts or just because he is a fucking crazy asshole. Staying away from your family was like to have a huge hole in your chest; you miss them every moment and do not know what could happen to them, kills you more and more.

“Negan want you in the meeting room.” Simon shout getting in on your room. “Now, Y/N!”

You stand up from the bed a bit dizzy, but curious with what Negan would want this time.

God help me. You thought

“What he wants this time?” You ask following the old man through the big and dirty Sanctuary’s halls.

Of course he didn’t answer, what makes you feel more angry and angst than you normally were. Most of the time, when Negan asked to see you, was to try to make you became his wife, or for do little mental games with you.

Please, let me go… This wish screamed inside you.

You think in try again, but Simon just grabbed your arm and threw you into the meeting room. And there he was, the man, your daily private hell. Negan was waiting for you staring the big glass window while whistling sadly, you couldn't see his face, but you felt something was wrong.

“You want me here… Here I’m!” You cross your arms across yourself, trying to not exhaling fear.

He immediately stopped the sad melody and turned to face you, and you saw how difficult that little movement was for him. He seems to be frustrated, tired ... in pain.

“Negan?” You try again, but he couldn’t look at you. He took a long and deep breath and his voice scratched your ears.

“Rick call me on the radio.” Your head mess up and you frowned in confusion. “Your brother… Carl…”

No! 

“What did you do with him?” You shout out angrier them never, tears already jumping off your eyes. “Did you fucking kill him, you freak?” You advanced on him, striking his chest.

His eyes fixed on your small figure.

“He was bitten, Y/N.” His hands danced through his beard in frustration. The world stopped while you was trying to understand the situation. “He was out of the gates, trying to help someone… I’m sorry, doll!”

This isn’t happen… God, please!

The tears dropped out quickly, your face was already wet. Your throat muffled the sobs who tried to get out. You never wished so much to be with someone, neither when your mom died, either when you lose the prison, or when Negan took you out of Alexandria.

The only sound in the room was your own crying, you felt Negan’s look over you when your knees failed, and you meet the floor. He approached little by little coming to meet you, trying to own you like you’re an animal.

Your head hurts, your thoughts run over your mind – this is not possible, this is not happening again – while the memories from you and Carl come over. You would never see him again; your little brother was dead. Gone forever. Faded away like ashes. A loud scream run away from your throat, but anything would make you feel painless.

In the middle of that chaos, cold arms hugged you, and you smell his perfume, When your eyes opened again you saw him trying to help you, but just make you angrier and disgusting about it, you know, in a way or another, it was his fault.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You crawled away. “I don’t want, and I don’t need you mercy!”

His eyes go down to the floor.

“Fuck…” More tears from your eyes. “All of this is your fault, Negan.” You whispered. “If I were there, with him, this would never have happened. He would still be alive, fighting for Alexandria, fight against you… God, you’re taking every fucking thing from me. Even my last moments with my brother, Negan. Congratulations!”

This was the only thing you were capable to speak before your tears fell down one more round.

Negan approached again, but this time you let him. You were so down in your feelings that doesn’t matter anymore. He put your head against his chest and hug you.

“I… I just… I just want my family back.” His shirt were completely wet now. “I just want my dad… Please, let me go back home.” You asked like was your last wish.

He looked deeply into your eyes, gently stroking your face with his fingers.

“Now you know how it’s fells to be alone, babe.” You saw a little shy tear dropping out the corner of his left eye. “Now you know why I can’t let you go back…”

At a little moment, his pain met yours and you two completed each other.

“I’m sorry, doll! I really am.” He surrendered his ego, kissing your forehead.

Negan wasn’t your safe harbor, either your home. But, just for now, he could be enough. And, maybe, with time, you could learn how to make him complete you.

Maybe you don’t wanted, but you needed his mercy. 

[bacejelerenvorthos]

The Lore of Kaldheim: Littjara

“Littjara is a mysterious realm of lakes and pine forests where reality seems as mutable as the shapeshifters who dwell there. Trunks of trees change direction abruptly, the surface of a lake curves upward into a bowl, aquatic plants grow naturally into unexpected patterns. Visitors might see the smoke of a campfire wafting into the air but arrive at the spot only to find a fawn lying in the grass with no campsite to be seen.

Littjara is a strangely mutable realm, as cryptic and secretive as the shapeshifters who dwell there. Even at midday, only a dim ambient radiance lights the landscape and odd-shaped plants cast twisting shadows in every direction.

The barriers that divide the realm from the Cosmos are far thinner than they are in any other realm, making it easy to enter—but the strangeness of the realm is disorienting, making it not so easy to leave. The shapeshifters themselves can pass easily out of Littjara and into the Cosmos, but outsiders who visit the realm find themselves helplessly lost, and those who make it back out are rarely eager to return.

Pentafjord Lake

When the Einir, the ancient elven gods, created the realm that would become Littjara, their interference marked the land indelibly. An enormous depression—miles wide, shaped like a hand, and full of fresh, clear water—is one of the few parts of Littjara that always remains the same. Faint prismatic lights, echoes of the Cosmos aurora, dance beneath the water's surface.

At the end of their lives, all shapeshifters are drawn to return to Littjara, where they make their way to the Pentafjord and slip beneath its surface to pass away.

Shapeshifters

The shapeshifters of Littjara are mysterious, masked beings with the ability to change their physical form at will. They wear beautifully carved masks and heavy traveling cloaks to obscure their true faces and forms, which are unknown to any but the shapeshifters themselves. They can take any form necessary to blend into their surroundings—including a shifting aurora form that enables them to move freely through the Cosmos—but they tend to prefer animal forms.

Gladewalkers and Covewalkers

Shapeshifters are green- or blue-aligned. A shapeshifter aligned with either color can take any form, but they tend to prefer different shapes, in part depending on their color. Green-aligned shapeshifters, known as Gladewalkers, prefer the forms of wild beasts over any humanoid identity. Bears are a favorite form, but any stag, lynx, bird, or squirrel spotted in the woodlands could be a Gladewalker in disguise. Covewalkers, the blue-aligned shapeshifters, are fascinated with water. They often take on the form of marine animals such as seals or dolphins. They also frequently adopt the identities of mariners, seafaring raiders, fishers, lighthouse keepers, and other humanoids who dwell on or near the waters.

Shapeshifters appear frequently in sagas as villains or tricksters, creating trouble for local humanoids and confounding the efforts of heroes. This portrayal reflects the deep-seated mistrust that many humanoids harbor for them but doesn't necessarily reflect the truth of their interactions with other races. In truth, shapeshifters can live for years undetected among other peoples, indulging an endless curiosity into the ways of the realms.

If they have other motivations beyond curiosity, they are kept secret from other races—as are their true forms.

Walking the Realms

Many believe that shapeshifters are formed from the same stuff as the Cosmos itself—pure shifting light and celestial energy. Whether or not that is their true nature, they can adopt a form similar to the auroras of the Cosmos in order to travel between realms, even in the absence of an Omenpath or Doomskar.

Given this ability to move among the realms, shapeshifters readily make use of it. Curious and adaptable, they often spend only the few years of a brief childhood in Littjara before venturing out into the Cosmos to see and learn about other realms. Many shapeshifters spend almost their entire lives among other races, until at last they return to Littjara for the last years of their lives and end their existence submerged and subsumed into Pentafjord Lake.

The Secrets of Littjara

An ancient saga tells the story of the shapeshifters' origin. As the story goes, they were once people of an unknown race living in a small village in a long-forgotten realm. Under the thumb of a tyrannical jarl, these people prayed to the Einir (the ancient elven gods) to spare their youths from being conscripted into their jarl's unjust war. The Einir granted their prayer, giving them the ability to change their form. The youths were disguised as elderly people and ordinary animals, leaving no one fit to serve in the jarl's armies. Enraged, the jarl ordered the slaughter of the entire town, and the villagers fled for their lives.

As the jarl's legions pursued the fleeing villagers, the Einir saw their plight and created a safe place for them. They pulled away a fragment of their own realm, intending to wall it off with steep mountains to create an impenetrable sanctuary. But their chaotic magic created an unstable and half-formed world, where smooth cliffs rise at unnaturally precise angles, trees are crowned with roots and supported by branches reaching into the ground, and a giant handprint in the landscape is now a lake with crystal waters.

The people who settled in this new land took on its shifting characteristics; over the generations, they left their original race behind and became the shapeshifters. Now land and people alike are mutable, cryptic, and secretive.”

[ladyshandioftheendless]

~The Stray~

I promised @electric--love​ that if I wrote a story introducing Werewolf!Robbin to the Vampire Crüe verse I would give ‘em a tag so here it is! I hope you like it! It’s a bit of a prelude to the sequel I’m currently working on so he’ll definitely show back up in later chapters. But where? When? Only time will tell~ (written in Paul’s POV)

~Shandi

It had been a long time since I had encountered a Lycan, but I should not have been surprised to find one in L.A. of all places.

I had just arrived, looking for safe harbor to shake my pursuer. Los Angeles was an entirely different animal from New York in every way. One could easily lose themselves in the decadence of the Sunset Strip. Blend in to the extravagance and sin. Disappear. Just what I was looking for~

There are safe houses for people like me. Sanctuaries with magical barriers to hide from enemies. From bitter lovers. They provided plenty of young victims with fresh, sweet blood. I was finally among my own kind once more. It was perfect~

And then..he came in.

He was a beast of a man. He towered over everyone. Built like a Greek God. A wild mane of blond hair. Dark, sinister eyes. Dressed all in skintight black leather. How delicious~ The others shunned him. He smelled different. Looked different. He definitely wasn't one of us. I didn't care. I wanted him~

Once he sat at the bar I quickly grabbed the seat next to him. The energy radiating off of him is so..feral. It was clear to me then what he truly was. "Awfully brazen for a Lycan to just come strolling into a Vampire sanctuary with no thought about the consequences. Are you looking for a fight?"

"And what if I am?"

Damn, his voice is sexy~ It sends shivers down my spine.

"Who is going to take my challenge..you? I could break you in half without even working up a sweat."

So antagonistic~ But I don't take his bait. Oh no..I have other ideas~ "I'm certain there are..other ways I can make you sweat~" The muscles in his thigh tense as I stroke it. I can hear his blood rushing through his veins..and straight down to his cock~ His breathing becomes shorter and quicker. Mmmm yes..now he's excited~ I lean closer, brushing my lips against his ear. "Why break me..when you can fuck me into submission instead~?"

"Arrogant bitch. You think you can handle me?"

"What's the matter..you don't want to fuck me just because I'm a Vampire?"

"I never said that."

"Then why are you hesitating? I'm offering..and I don't think your cock would be as hard as it is if you weren't interested~" As soon as I slip my hand between his legs his expression changes. He's completely hard now~ Throbbing~ "You poor baby..you must be aching~ Let me relieve that for you~" He growls and grabs my wrist, thrusting himself against my hand. "You want this..?"

"Yes. Give it to me~"

"Where do you wanna do this?"

"I have a room upstairs~"

"Let's go then."

~*~

He is a Lycan. There is no question. He takes control. He goes straight for my throat, marking me as his. He tears off my clothes with his gigantic hands and pins me down onto my bed. He fucks me mercilessly. He delights in my screams of raw ecstasy. My nails digging into his flesh. He's so fucking amazing..and I tell him so~ His stamina is endless! He's inside me again and again, filling me up. Making me delirious with pleasure. He uses my body until he is completely spent..and I am a panting, quivering mess~

Hours later I am still in his arms, running my fingers through the hair on his chest. He is beautiful..and content~ "By the way..I never did ask you your name did I~?"

"Nope."

"Does it even matter to you? Unless..you're not going to come back.."

"Do you want me to?"

"I would..like that, yes~"

"Was it that good?"

"You know it was. I told you so~ I screamed it~"

"You sure did~"

"You're teasing me now, you naughty animal~ What shall I call you?"

"My name is Robbin."

"Strayed from your Pack?"

"I don't have one."

"Ohhh I see. Well, my dear Robbin..since you marked me I suppose that means I'm part of your Pack now~" He snorts. "Don't be ridiculous. A Vampire and a Lycan can't be in a Pack together. "

"Who says?"

He goes silent. I kiss his shoulder and give it a gentle bite. "There. Now I have marked you~ My name is Paul~"

"Why..would you do this for me..?"

"Because you are much too powerful to be just a Stray. You are an Alpha. I see potential in you. We are going to do great things, you and I~"

"You know what..I actually believe you."

Eventually I will have to tell him everything. My reason for coming here. But that is for later. Now..I just want to enjoy this blissful moment~

~END~