#The dream-walker's wife

[mihari]

Uzriel lost track of his birthday a long time ago, so when we started dating and I wanted to do something nice for him he just picked the day I started remembering dreams involving him more clearly. Which according to the post I made about him on Tumblr back in 2015, is April 23rd!

So despite the horrible lack of motivation I've been having to do much of anything, I wanted for certain to draw something for him today after embracing being a self-shipper in earnest.

Happy whatever-the-hell year birthday to my ridiculously tall emotional support incubus!

[saintajax]

me when there’s temptation to make an oc

[barblaz-arts]

I've come back to drop some Next Gen Nevermore lore, this time about Sora and Regine's parents 💕

Yukiko Toriyama

Because of my love for parallels, she's a doctor to match the adult characters in the show (Principal - Weems/Bianca; Sheriff - Galpin/Walker). She's a surgeon though, not a therapist like Kinbott, but still a doctor!

Yukiko's around Wednesday and co's age, so she was also in Jericho High when they were in Nevermore. She has a huge respect for Outcasts, thinking that they are very cool. In fact, she thought this one siren girl that she first saw during Outreach Day was especially cool. Soon she will find out that her name is Bianca Barclay and that her classmate Lucas Walker will end up dating her.

She met Sora's father some time after graduating from high school. She fell for his confidence, and was especially impressed that he was an Outcast. Unfortunately she realized too late that he's all talk. When she got pregnant with Sora, his rich parents essentially sent her hush money, which she accepted and used to pay for med school. Sora's grandparents helped raise her while Yukiko finished her studies, so she wasn't as present as she probably should have been during Sora's childhood. She tries her best though, really.

Hugo Schuyler

Sora's father. He came from a rich and reputable family of psychics that specialize in spirits, also known as Herons. Because of his family's reputation, he developed a huge ego and has delusions of grandeur.

He's a glutton for attention, a trait that Sora unfortunately inherited as she also always makes an effort to fit in with "the popular crowd" among her peers. However unlike Sora who is ashamed of her outcast status and prefers to hide her power, Hugo has a superiority complex and overcompensates for his weak psychic abilities by being obnoxiously loud about his outcast status and his family's name.

He ends up starting a YouTube channel as a paranormal investigator after Nevermore. When he finds out he has a daughter, he's quick to head over to Nevermore and rope Sora into his paranormal shenanigans. No, it doesn't end up being a cute father-daughter bonding activity.

He sees both Wednesday and Enid as rivals. Wednesday for her formidable psychic powers (and reputation!), Enid for, well, her more successful YouTube channel(which isn't even hers, it's the Wolf Preserve's). Wednesday does not remember him from their high school days though, and Enid purposely mixes him up with Xavier when addressing him.

Vega hates him because he thinks aliens don't exist.

Erica Gutierrez

(I don't have her design and personality fully conceptualized yet, sorry)

Erica is Eugene's ex-wife and is a famous actress who started out when she was a teenager. She used to be a celebrity crush of Eugene's when he was in Nevermore, and dating and marrying her was a dream come true that sadly didn't last.

Erica makes an effort to see Regine when she can, and she usually has her daughter stay with her throughout the summer. Her fame comes with its own cons, particularly the excessive attention she(and by extension her family) gets hugely contributing to Regine's overly reclusive personality.

Erica had nothing to do with Outcasts before meeting Eugene and is every bit of a Normie. She and Wednesday never liked each other. She gets along well with Enid because she thinks Enid is normal enough when she isn't wolfed out. Enid likes her for getting her Michelle Yeoh's autograph and a video message as a birthday gift once. (Wednesday hates that Eugene's ex wife of all people showed her up that year)

None of the Nevermore student knew Regine's mother was a celebrity until Erica decided to give her daughter a surprise visit during Family Day(coincidentally the same day Hugo goes to meet Sora. It was a long weekend for the girls)

(masterpost for my AUs here)

EDIT: I ALMOST FORGOT!

Partial credit to @whitebeltwriter for coming up with Yukiko's background with me. I no longer remember which parts were my idea and which is hers, but pls know that it was a collaborative effort

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Vow 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, arranged marriage, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!August Walker

Summary: your father’s murder leaves you in the hands of a dangerous man.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

August draws you onto the dance floor. He tugs your arm so you swing into him, hitting his chest with an oomph as the first song begins. Your first song. Every girl dreams of this, don’t they? Their wedding day. Their first dance. But what about the father-daughter dance? 

You try not to think of anything but that moment. Not that bloody night, not the vows strangled from your throat, or the incessant pulsing of your heart. Just move your feet, sway, let the melody wrap you up and hold you close. 

Your husband has one hand on your lower back, his other cradles your gloves fingers and guides them onto his shoulder. You tilt your head up to see him. The spark in his blue eyes dispels your breath like fog. 

His hand falls to your hip as he turns you with him, moving smoothly around the floor, before all those watching eyes. Beneath the music is a drawn hush. His audience, his people, watch their new king take his crown jewel. 

His hand slips down and brushes the curve of your ass. He pulls you flush to him and growls. You squeak in surprise. It is another show of his dominance. Another proclamation of his power. If your father was alive, he would have his hands cut off but your father is dead and his hand remains as it is. 

“You are not his daughter anymore, you are my wife,” August intones under his breath. 

“Yes,” agree in a hollow gulp. 

“So smile,” he taunts. “Aren’t you happy to have a husband?” 

“Yes,” you repeat again. 

“You don’t seem it,” he challenges. 

You twitch. You make yourself lean into him. You drag one hand from his shoulder and to his chest. You feel the muscle beneath and your chest thrums. You feel his power nested beneath his suit. His cheek dimples, he’s pleased at the play of fear on your face. 

You make yourself smile and run your hand up to his collar and tickle along his neck. His throat bobs and you flutter over the short stubble already poking through his skin. He leans his head down and you nearly trip over yourself as you strain to kiss him. 

He hums, still moving you in his thrall, and his tongue flits over your lip. You let him in. He twirls you and bends you backward as he stills your feet. He deepens the kiss as he keeps you off kilter. The crowd jeers and eggs him on, shattering the brittle tension. 

He parts and puts you back on your feet. He spins you away and pulls you back in. You are weak to his whim. You are his wife, his possession.  

As he turns you, you see your mother. She watches in sombre stillness. She sits as others stands to watch, others joining the fun with their partners. 

Your hand drifts down and you keep it high on August’s shoulder as your other nestles into his side beneath his jacket. He purrs, content at your submission. He kneads your ass and breathes over your hair and veil. He toys with it as it brushes his knuckles. 

“Keep this on tonight,” he growls. 

Tonight. 

You quiver at the thought. This is only the beginning. That small hole in the back of your mind splits into a gaping tear and your fear floods in. 

“Your father always was greedy but I daresay his worst offense was keeping you locked up,” he snarls and kisses your forehead, the trim of his mustache bristling along your hairline. 

You shiver and curl your fingers against him. You cling to him as your legs threaten to give out. Your family mantle is suddenly a chain around your neck. The iron ball at the end will only drag you down. 

He nuzzles your hair, “will you shake when I have you under me?” 

You whimper, “please.” 

“Denial cannot protect you. It didn’t protect him,” he growls. “I could drag you out right now and fuck you over a toilet. Hell, I could throw you down on this floor and throw your skirts up and they would cheer me on. Every last one of them.” 

Terror surges through you and you pull back to look him in the face. To this point, he’s been patient. Stony and strict but not unkind. You can see clearly then what makes him so dangerous. His boldness. His shamelessness. His iron determination. 

“Yes, I know. I know you could. You can,” you eke out. “But I am being good. Sir, August, why would you be cruel?” 

He smirks, “I’m not, am I? I’m reminding you that I can, if you choose to stoke it.” 

“I understand,” you quaver and rub his chest appeasingly. Instinctively as you try to calm this sudden rise in him. “I can be good.” 

“For me or to me?” He wonders. 

“For-- to—Both. Whatever you will have of me,” you plead as you rub beneath his jacket. “Tell me what you want?” 

He stares down at you. His eyes sparkle and the corners of his lips tweak. He brings his knuckles up to pet your cheek. He considers you then stops, his hand on your hip. 

“It is time,” he booms out and signals to someone unseen. 

You turn to search for whoever it is. From your other side, a man approaches with a chair. You spin back and your mother stands. Her hands are fists. Her face is steel. She watches as her shame threatens to boil over. 

August puts you in the chair by your shoulders. You look around as the dancers still and circle around. Those still at their table angle around to see.  

You squirm as your husband gets to his knees. He puts his hands behind his back as Margot comes forward to lift your skirts. You stifle a yelp as she throws them over his head and he bows to drag his lips along your ankle. 

You twitch as he creeps up your stocking. You know what this is. You’ve been to many weddings. You always found the display terribly humiliating.  

His breath plumes over your leg as he reaches your thigh and he pinches you with his teeth. You cry out and your hands are grabbed before you can swat at your dress. Theo pulls your wrists behind you and you writhe as August continues his mission beneath the layers of tulle. 

His nose brushes along your leg and he kisses the tender flesh as you quiver. He nips and licks in a faux search for your garter, only biting down on it as you whine in discomfort. He tugs it down slowly as his growl rumbles against you. 

He brings it down the length of your leg and the skirts fall away from his head as he sits back on his heels. He has the lace in his teeth as his hair is askew from his plunge beneath the fabric. He grabs the garter and waves it at the ground as he stands and chortles in victory. You’re released and fix your skirts frantically. 

“Ahhh,” he scrunches it to his nose and inhales, “I can smell it. My wife is ready.” He shakes the garter in his fist and the crowd laughs, “aren’t you?” 

He turns to you and scoops you up. You cry out as he brings you against his chest. He sighs and looks around at the crowd; at his empire. 

“To the boss!” Theo calls out as he raises a glass and the entire room mirrors him in anointing their new king. 

[dixons-sunshine]

Sweetest | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wounded and benched from runs for the week, Daryl was asked to watch the kids in the prison while you and some of the others worked on repairing a breach in one of the fences. One of the kids asked Daryl how he met you, his wife, and it made for a rather sweet tale.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Prison, pre season 4.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1.6k.

A/n: This turned out worse than I hoped, better than I expected. I don't really know how to explain it, but I hope you like this! (Thank you @ddamm and @dixondystopia for giving me your favourite moments from the entire series to add to this! They were pretty much the same, so great minds truly do think alike, as they say.)

“Mr Dixon?”

At the sound of his name being called, Daryl looked up from his baby girl and locked eyes with a little girl—Mika, he believed her name was—who was staring at him with a big smile. “Yeah?” he replied, slightly bouncing his knee when Hazel began fussing a little.

Mika giggled slightly, sharing a look with her sister, Lizzie, before turning back to the archer. “Mrs Dixon is your wife, right?” she inquired, bouncing slightly on her feet.

Daryl's lips involuntarily twitched up at the mere mention of you. He nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah? Why do ya ask?”

“Well, my dad likes to talk about how he met my mom. Mr Greene has told us how he met his last wife a million times. We wanna know how you met Mrs Dixon!”

Almost as if for added emphasis, the other children all perked up and voiced their interest in knowing the tale of how Daryl met you, his beautiful wife. The archer, both amused by the children's nosiness and embarrassed by the metaphorical spotlight he was placed under, let out a small scoff and adjusted Hazel in his arms, allowing the small girl to happily toy with his fingers. “It ain't some big love story or nothin'. It'll only bore ya.”

“No, it won't,” Carl added from his position atop one of the tables. The teenager had been sulking because Rick had forbade him from helping fix the breach in the fence—where several walkers had managed to crawl through—but the chance of getting to know some insight to one of the most talked about couples in the prison brightened his mood somewhat. You and Daryl were the only couple that dated back before the outbreak, and everyone was eager to know how the two of you got together, and how you managed to keep that spark alive. “We wanna know. Come on, Daryl. Please.”

Daryl let out a small groan and rolled his eyes at the young Grimes' insistence. “Why dun' y'all go pester Glenn or somebody? M'sure he'd be more than happy to tell y'all 'bout how he met Maggie.”

“But he's told us that story a zillion times already,” one of the kids groaned. “We wanna hear your story. Please, Mr Dixon.”

Daryl let out a deep sigh. From somewhere behind him, he could hear Carol chuckle, closely followed by the chuckles of a few of the adults that were taking a break from their chores around the prison. Daryl shook his head and pursed his lips. “Y'all really wanna hear?” Almost instantly, all of the kids perked up and simultaneously voiced their clear interest, trying to talk over the other. Daryl raised his eyebrows and let out a small chuckle. “Woah, calm down. I ain't sayin' nothin' 'til y'all quiet down.” And just like that, it got so quiet, one could hear a pin drop. “Y/n and I go back many years, long 'fore all'a y'all kids were born. We're closin' in on three decades'a knowin' one another.”

“Thirty years?” Carl voiced in a disbelieving tone. “That's basically forever!”

Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “Guess ya can say tha', yeah.” Daryl shushed Hazel when she began fussing a bit, lightly tickling her stomach to coax a laugh from her. “We met when we were twelve, 'side this river in the woods outside the trailer park we lived in. I admit, I didn't know wha' to think'a her at first. Refused to talk to her fer a whole month, but she never gave up. She kept pesterin' me 'til one day, somethin' happened and I broke my quiet facade. Tha's when we started becomin' friends.” Daryl stopped and tried to hide the smile that spread across his face, but to no avail. “She, uh... She quickly became my best friend after tha'.”

“When did you start love-liking her?” one of the kids asked with a giggle, closely followed by the mischievous laughter of the other kids.

Daryl hummed and shrugged. “After she did somethin' fer my sixteenth birthday. I liked her fer a while 'fore tha', but tha' occasion was my wake-up call. My feelin's fer her slapped me righ' in the face tha' day.” He stopped and let out a small sigh before continuing. “I didn't have the balls to confess to her fer 'nother year after tha'. And when I did confess, it was righ' after we went and bought pa—” Daryl cut himself off, painfully aware of the immature teenage boys that would freak out over the mere mention of pads. Because of that, he altered the truth a little. “...Pasta fer dinner tha' nigh'. Things escalated and we kissed, and then her mom walked in.”

“No,” Beth gasped, slightly tightening her grip on Judith as she thought of the embarrassing scenario.

Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “It was embarrassin' as shi—crap, tha's fer sure, but we lived. Her mom was nice 'bout it all. Definitely didn't mean we could escape her teasin', though.” He pursed his lips as he thought of that moment, the embarrassment still fresh in his mind, even all those years later. “Her teasin' got even worse when Y/n and I eloped. She was kinda upset 'bout it, but she soon went straight back to teasin' us fer not bein' able to wait to have a proper weddin'.”

By that point, unbeknownst to the archer, the group that had been working on fixing the fence—a group that included you—had silently stepped into the part of the prison everyone was in to alert the kids to the fact that they could go play. However, once they heard what the crossbow-wielding man was talking about, they stopped and remained quiet, eager to hear about it all. And you stayed quiet as well, quite shocked that your husband was willingly telling stories about his past with you. He preferred to keep that part of his life private, but there he was, happily talking away. It made your heart swell with love and affection for the man.

“The two of you stayed together for all those years?” Zach—Beth's boyfriend—asked, leaning against the wall. When Daryl nodded, he continued. “How?”

Daryl shrugged and adjusted his daughter in his arms again, feeling her head begin to droop as she was beginning to fall asleep. “I love 'er. And fer some reason I still don't understand 'til this day, she loves me. Ain't tha' hard to stay committed to the person ya love the most. Relationships ain't always all sunshines and rainbows, but when yer with the person ya love, s'all worth it. Y/n taught me tha'. She's the sweetest person ever. I dun' know wha' I did to deserve her, but I thank my lucky stars every day tha' I get to call her mine.”

It went silent after that. The only sound that could be heard was the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the fences. That is, until Rick spoke up from behind the huntsman, startling him and alerting him to the fact that essentially everyone had heard him practically rave about you.

“Well said, brother. Well said,” Rick complimented him, a faint, teasing smile on his face. He turned towards the younger ones in the group and gestured towards the door. “Y'all can go play now. Just stay away from the fences.” And just like that, all the kids—except Carl—had forgotten their need to hear about Daryl's love story with you. They all excitedly darted out the door, their laughter fading as they disappeared out the doors.

Michonne smirked, playfully hitting you on the back. “Y/n, you never told me you found such a keeper. And you found him early on, too. You're so lucky.”

“Yeah, she is,” Carol chipped in, a teasing smile on her face as well. “Did I ever tell you about this one guy in our old camp that insulted her and Daryl instantly put him on his ass? He did accidentally reveal her pregnancy while doing so, but that's besides the point.”

“Was it Shane?” Rick asked, sighing when Carol nodded. “Yeah, of course it was,” he mumbled while he shook his head.

“Not to mention how he nearly killed Jenner because he wouldn't let us out—well, wouldn't let them out. He didn't care much for us back then. We all know he only wanted the doors open so that Y/n was safe,” Glenn piped in.

“Aw,” Michonne cooed teasingly. “That is so sweet, Daryl. You're just a big teddy bear.”

Daryl ducked his head in embarrassment as the others joined in on the teasing as well. He could feel his cheeks flush, and he would've gotten up and bolted from the embarrassing situation, had it not been for the fact that Hazel had just fallen asleep, and he didn't want to wake her.

The feeling of your hand being rested on his shoulder almost instantly made him calm down, your familiar touch bringing a sense of comfort to him. The rest of the group were to busy relaying their favourite moments they had seen between the two of you to notice this interaction, and the archer was glad about that. He was also glad that they couldn't hear what you whispered in his ear, because although Daryl Dixon wasn't a selfish man, the others didn't have to hear these words you clearly meant just for him:

“I'm proud of you. You climbed out of your shell today and did something I know you don't always enjoy doing. You're amazing, Daryl Dixon, and I love you so much.” You placed a soft, tender kiss on his cheek. “You really are the sweetest person ever.”

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[tarjapearce]

[There is no exact timeline, mind you hehe]

PRE-SOCCER FAMILY

Meeting for the first time

Meeting Again

Flirting

First Kiss

Boyfriend Makeover

First time with eachother (Mild +18)

Who Fell Harder

Meeting Miguel's Family

Miguel Meeting Wife!Reader's Family (Drama & Angst)

Break Up (Angst)

Makeup (Angst and Fluff)

The Making Of Gabriella (+18)

Pregnancy Cares with Miguel

Proposal

The Wedding

MAIN EVENTS AND BLURBS

HIGHLIGHTS

Miguel's Birthday

The Making Of Benjamin (+18)

Unlocking Memories

Young Spiders Meeting Miguel's Family

Spider Gang Babysitting Gabi and Benji

Uncle Gabriel Paying A Visit

Girl's Day with Gabriella

Nightmares

Baby Benjamin's First Words

Jealous Wife

Marital Fight

Makeup

Miguel Helping Gabi With School Project

Gabi's Toddler Days

Big Sister, Again

Angry Spanish Cursing with Miguel

Rosie's Birth

Miguel Comforting Mama

Baby Cares with Miguel and Rosie

Gabi's First Period

Benjamin's Pregnancy

Grandma's Visit

Meeting Mama's ex at Costco

Mama Pick up Lines

Welcome Back, Papa!

Introducing Gabriella to Soccer

Miguel's Pick up Lines

Gabriel and Miguel Fight

A series Of First With Gabriella

Conversations between Miguel and Mama

Papa, You're Getting Old

NSFW

Miguel Comforting Wife After A Bad Dream

Possessive Husband Miguel

Miguel Waking Up To A BJ

Needy Mama with a Gentle Dom! Miguel

Mama Pegging Miguel

The Making of Rosie

Miguel and Mama's favorite positions

Miguel Eating out Mama (with a lil twist)

For Science Purposes

GABRIELLA AND HER QUESTIONS

Big Boobs

A Sibling

Big Boobs (Miguel Version)

Milk Jugs

Is Mama ok?

DAILY LIFE BLURBS

Spicy food with Gabi

Gabi's Tamtrum

Mama Is Harassed By Another Man

Gabi comforting a Fussy Benjamin

Miguel Rizzing up Mama

Benji And His Baby Walker

Mama Teasing Miguel

A Little Time Lapse

Cleaning Sunday

Benji Getting A Tummy Ache

Bitter Coffee

Benjamin's "Messy Hair" (Angry Mama)

Sad Movie Night

Questions Related 2 3 4 5 6 7

Go Shave, Papa!

Nothing But Short Short Shirts

Benjamin Cutting His Own Hair

Soccer Family Into Tik Tok

Nude Portrait

Benji Being a Lil Ladies Man

Kiss Cam

Intruder

Sleepy Boys

Benjamin as a 12 year old boy

Baby Benjamin gets injured

Drunk Mama

You're adopted, Benji.

Getting Gabi to Sleep

El Ratón Perez

(Header made by me)

[writing-makes-me-human]

HEYYYYYY

I couldn't help but see your requests were open l😏

So I wanted to ask for a human reader who Neteyam finds but he goes to kill her and she kinda charms him so he stops?

Then they become mates, the story and stuff is all up to you but yeahhhh that's my idea

I LOVE YOUR WRITING BTW AND I HAVE READ NEARLY EVERYTHING!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 

Thank you for the lovely words and your support it gives my writing purpose <3

Here is your request, I really hope you like it!

I named it Charming Killer after your request.

ps: If people have put in a request it is on its way!

┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑

Pairing: Neteyam x reader

Part Two

Summary: You get chased into the wilds of Pandora with a broken communication collar and a bullet wound, but Neteyam finds you. He goes to kill you but an omen from Eywa stops him, and as he approaches you he realizes you are his destined mate.

Warnings: blood and injury were mentioned, nothing else.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I’m taking a quick little break from writing for the same two series and breaking out to some requests. Check my master list for my posting schedule for Love and Guests. And what are we feeling? Part two or keep this as a one-shot? (God why did I just offer to create a new series but also this is such a cool idea and I want to write more)

Neteyam didn't like humans, and he never had. His mother had raised him to stay away from them as much as possible, and he had obeyed to keep her happy, but as he grew up and his siblings came back from ventures to the human labs that lay beyond their village with stories about Norm and Max in their human forms, he found his simple obligation of dislike turn into hatred.

Neteyam avoided all of the dream walkers that operated in his village to the best of his ability. His father advised them not to bother his eldest son or his wife, which they respectably agreed to. Still, even if they weren't around him Neteyam could always feel their presence, and it irked him.

One day, this feeling cropped up in his mind as he was out in the rugged outback of Pandora, hunting a stray tapirus for his mother.

He jumped from a tree to the ground as he continued to track, but then as Neteyam pressed his fingers into the newest set of prints in the dirt, he smelt it.

It was the distinct smell that often surrounded humans, something of a mixture between an unnatural chemical smell and wafts of artificial scents that attracted them to one another. Still, to Na'vi, the smell was a distinct warning.

He raised his head, abandoning the hunt in favour of locating the emitter of the stench that was offending him.

He followed his nose for a few meters, and then with the tip of his bow, he dipped a low-hanging branch to divulge a clearing.

There, standing in the middle with not a soul around was you, trying to aid an injury to your lower arm and fix a device at the same time with only one working hand.

He quirked his brow in confusion. He had never heard of you from his father, which only led to one conclusion: you were a sky person under Quaritch's jurisdiction.

He watched you for a few seconds to take inventory of what you were doing all alone in the middle of Pandora without a jarhead next to you with a gun. He could tell immediately you were not military because you were pacing around in a circle, speaking a mile an hour to yourself, using words he didn't understand with no sign of a weapon anywhere on your person.

His eyes dipped to your arm, which you were clenching shut as blood dripped onto the ground and soaked itself into the fabric of your shirt.

You were in shock from what Neteyam could interpret in distinction to your actions. The wound didn't seem like it had come from an attack by any beast on his planet because you would surely be dead if that were the case.

The injury looked like a bullet wound which only charged his curious streak further, but you were human, and one less sky person on this planet was a plus for his cause. So, he nestled down on the ground and silently replaced the branch so he could pull back his bow and aim his righteous arrow at your head.

He felt his heart beat in rhythm with your steps as you desperately tried to fix a communication com device with one hand, fighting against the panic that was starting to take your breath away.

The wilderness was vast, and you could feel the race against time fight in opposition to the blood which was slowly collecting a trail by your feet.

He let out his breath and readied the shot, but before he could let it go, a seedling from the tree of souls floated into his vision and landed on his hand, a silent plea not to fire.

He was stunned for a few seconds and held his posture, but when the seedling took off again, he finally let his hands relax and brought the longbow back down to his lap.

He was captivated now as he tried to lean closer through the foliage to see your actions. Eywa had spoken, and he would not kill you.

He thought back to the story his mother had often told her children about how she met his father, and his nose scrunched up at the similarities between the two stories.

He decided he would not take you to his father, and he would leave you here. If Eywa didn't want him to kill you, that was fine but he wouldn't become responsible for your safety.

He had filled his hunger for curiosity, and the thought of returning to his hunting materialized in his brain. With that in mind, he turned to step away, but as soon as he moved, another seedling crashed into his chest, making him stutter back in an effort not to crush the precious soul.

The sound of crunching leaves caught your attention, and you rotated on your heels in the direction of Neteyam. He kept his head low and out of your sight before he shook his head at the seedling which hovered in front of his face.

You couldn't see anything, but the sound was distinct, so you darted your eyes around to try and find anything to defend yourself with, but your search was broken when you found a white seedling floating just to the side of Neteyam's hiding spot.

You gasped as two other seedlings joined the beautiful sprite. They all floated towards you, pushing air down as they climbed higher and higher up on their way to you.

Neteyam let his eyes leave the seed in front of his way and looked towards you. Your face was lit up at the sight of the seeds, and it seemed their appearance had taken all of your focus off the pain and the gadget in your hand because you softly stepped forward to greet the specimens.

He watched as you steadily reached out a shaky hand to the wood sprites, laughing uneasily as they all gently landed along the uninjured arm.

You looked so excited at their presence, and that confirmed his suspicions of your scientific origin.

You took another step forward, and Neteyam cursed mentally as he turned to leave, but again, the seed of Eywa stopped him with its stagnant stature. The sign was clear. He had to speak with you. He rolled his eyes and held back a sigh but acted to comply with the great mother's desires.

He stood to his full height and stared at you with a frown. You still hadn't noticed him, but when he smacked the lower branch away and tramped forward, the white sprites took off and left you to yearn after them with a sad stare.

What was so special about you? He wondered. You were just another arrogant human who was part of an unkillable mass that had arrived here with an open palm.

Your eyes then fell from the vacating pure souls and settled on the 10ft Na'vi in front of you, which caused a shriek.

Immediately you stumbled back and tried to start protesting for your life at the sign of his lethal bow, but you stopped when you noticed he was staring at you with an unwavering eye filled with mystery.

You called something to him, but he only understood the odd word. You had jumped straight into elucidating that you were not a threat which made him want to laugh. 

Of course, you weren't a threat. You were standing here like the perfect prey for any number of predators to pounce on and devour. He could kill you with a single toss, and the idea that he feared you was amusing him.

He took another step, and this time you crouched down, letting your hand leave the wound to try and coax him to stay away from you like he was a stray animal that could be redirected.

The bright blood on your hand shone in the light, your face was pale compared to the rest of you, and he felt a pang of pity for you, making him scowl at himself for his stupidity.

He stepped forward some more, his tail flickering behind him with agitation as he pulled the bow over his head and let the string fall over his chest.

"Who are you?" He growled as he marched further into the clearing.

His body was tall and very masculine, his muscles hugged his body as he looked down at you with contempt, and those were your only thoughts as the Na’vi man looked ready to murder you.

Your face wrinkled in confusion as you shrugged one of your shoulders at his words, your head shook from side to side in order to tell him you had no idea what he was saying.

He rolled his eyes at your conceited unknowingness, but just as he was about to start yelling at you, he paused as your scent hit him.

The standard note of human was definitely there, but there was something else, something sweet that had him hooked the second now that it registered in him.

At first, he thought you had used some chemical warfare on him, but when your confused face only intensified as he took a carnivorous inhale at the air, he knew the fragrance was only coming from your skin.

He took another stride, and the movement triggered your fight or flight. You tried to stand to run, but he grabbed your intact arm and gently yanked it forward, making you drop the communication device to the ground with a clatter.

You tried objecting to his harsh handling of you and cursed at him in English. He ignored you, and without further conversation, he shoved his face into the crevice on your neck and pushed your jaw up with his forehead so that your neck lay before him with no guard.

He took deep whiffs of your scent and nestled deeper so he could bring in as much as his body and the restrictive oxygen mask you were wearing would let him take. His tail flicked wildly behind him as he tried to commit the smell to memory. It smelt something crossed between a sugary treat and a warm fresh wood scent that made his brain fizz with the desire to have more of it closer.

He could feel your heartbeat on his cheek, but he ignored it. His need for the scent consumed him. He was only brought back to reality when you let out a whine at his very close touch that was making you uncomfortable.

He ripped his head back and shook it wildly, trying to shake off the remnants that tickled his brain. Your eyes that had originally been looking at him with confusion were now eyeing him up and down with uncertainty.

He dropped your arm and felt his body surge at the loss of touch. You faltered backward as he let you go but didn't try to run again, which he appreciated.

He was attracted to you, that was certain, and it made his body lurch with disgust, but before he could spend longer than a few seconds being disgusted, the scent of your skin drilled its way back into his brain, and he was overcome with butterflies that attacked his stomach.

You spoke again; this time, he identified the words 'Na'vi' and the name Max from your speech. He cocked his head, and you watched as his braids fell to one side of his head as he brought his face closer to yours to stare into your eyes.

You took a step back, but he followed you. He decided to ignore whatever you were saying and let his exploratory nature grab hold of him. He extended his head around to stare at your body, and you let him touch you as he pleased with your chest heaving in anxiety that at any moment he would have his fill of interest peaked and he would draw back to kill you.

His fingers came to your waist and gripped the lower hem of your elastic shirt, and pulled at it before letting it snap back, which made you smile a little despite the fear raging through you. Perhaps the blood loss was making you hysterical.

His ears twitched at the sound of your giggles that accompanied the smile, and his scrutinizing eyes turned softer as he reached forward and repeated the action, letting you huff with amusement.

He continued his curious search of you and let his fingers prod your cargo pants. You watched with your own set of prying eyes as he leaned down so he could gather the material between his fingers and rub it together to feel the texture. He let it fall back into place and pulled himself back up to his full height, which made your smile falter as you reminded yourself he was not a curious child and was a fully grown Na'avi hunter, if his bow was anything to go by.

The silence was loud, but it communicated volumes. You could tell by his erratic behavior that he wasn't going to kill you, but he was clearly fighting an inner conflict with his actions.

You didn't know much about the natives, but you knew one thing that had been hammered into your head since orientation day on this planet, Na'vi killed sky people on sight, and this man didn't look like he was reaching for his bow anytime soon, so what was he doing?

You tried your luck and reached out your hand to poke his bare chest before quickly retracting, making him let out his own small chuckle at your scared actions. You smiled cautiously before you reached out and ran a finger over the string of his bow that dug into his front, watching his chest shiver at your touch before you finally pulled back and stared up at him.

He let his smile disappear, and his frown replaced it as he stuck out his hand to grab your oxygen mask, but this seemed to be a step too far because you pulled back and quietly said something he didn't understand, but he knew it was a denial.

He was satisfied with his investigation and pulled himself back to look down at you while you awkwardly returned your hand to clutching the hole in your body that wasn't meant to be there.

Neteyam felt the pity in his heart worsen at your predicament, and he decided that he wanted to help, even though his naturally taught ethics told him it was wrong. He knew that the only reason his body was reacting to you like this, along with the cause of the omens from Eywa, meant one thing, but he was trying to suppress that epiphany for the moment.

He couldn't understand your language enough, but the device that lay on the ground behind him was obviously crucial to you. Hence he walked over to it and picked it up, this caused a chain reaction as you stumbled forward and tried to take it back from him with a yelp of protest, but he placed his hand on your forearm and gently pushed you back, which calmed you down enough that he could look at the tool.

He stood up and held the com to his face to see if it was fixable. Jake had a few of these around, and Neteyam had to wear one for a long time when he was younger, but this technology was slightly newer than anything Neteyam had seen for a while.

He flipped the collar over in his palm, and to his surprise, he immediately zoned in on the issue. The chip that powered it was simply dislodged and needed to be adjusted, so he pushed it back gently and shook it a few times, much to your aggrievement, and then when the red light sparked back to life he crouched down and placed it in your hands.

Your eyes widened in surprise as the collar was now partially workable.

You looked up at him, and his breath caught as your beautiful eyes gazed into his own with such pure gratitude in them that it made him want to keep you close to him forever, as his mate.

And just like that, the epiphany broke the surface of his mind and his pupils swell as he realized why you smelt so divine and why your laugh made his body weak. You were his mate. Even without the means to make the neural link or any of the accompanying features found on Na'vi women that were deemed as attractive, he knew as he observed you desperately press down on the com and speak into it that you were his destined partner.

The intercom sparked to life, and he heard the sound of Max's voice come through it. This interaction only worked to intrigue him more than last time, as he tried to figure out what you were doing all alone out here with a broken body, seeking out the rouge scientists.

You quickly yelled back to Max with relief overthrowing your face, which made Neteyam smile again as he watched you let out a consoled chuckle.

You spoke for a few more seconds, and Neteyam let the sound of your strange accent wrap around him before you broke his trance and held up the collar to him. He quirked a brow, but you shook the device in your hand and nodded for him to take it.

He gently took the end of the com and brought it to his ear so he could listen to Max translate what was happening to him in Na'vi.

Max was shocked to find out it was Neteyam who had saved his exposed spy from Hell's gate, but he described your issue to Neteyam, and he agreed to take you to the laboratories on the edge of his village so you could be patched up.

He returned the device and pulled off his bow to set himself up to walk you through the wild to the labs.

You hadn't understood Max's translation, so you pulled the com closer and tried to remain polite as you smiled up at Neteyam, but he could tell you were not pleased with the improvised escort that was surely threatening to your tiny stature.

When the conversation was over, you sighed and dropped the intercom to your side, gripping it tightly as you looked back up at Neteyam, who was now tying his hair of individual braids up with a hair-tie while holding the bow between his teeth.

He looked like a beautiful angel from your angle as he effortlessly strung up his hair, showing off his triceps and pecs while his canines were left exposed around the wooden bow. He pulled an arrow from behind his back and fit it into the bow. Neteyam then set off into the woods again, with your body mindlessly following the god-like boy.

You watched him move; he was the most graceful thing you had ever seen. His attitude was strange, and while you couldn't understand a word he was saying, you finally identified his aura as one of interest and possible endearment rather than intimidation.

He looked over his shoulder and called out a sentence to you that once again you couldn't understand but you just nodded and tried to sustain his pace.

He looked over his shoulder every few steps, but it was clear you were struggling to keep up with him as the pain from your injury was now becoming prevalent thanks to your adrenaline levels being brought down.

Neteyam grumbled something under his breath but turned to you, sliding the bow and arrow over himself again as he stepped towards you.

You backed up a little as his alarming size came toward you, but he reached out and gently touched your shoulder so you could see that he was trying to suggest an idea.

"You're never gonna get there if I don't carry you, come here", he stared into your eyes, repeating the sentence at least three times before he tut his tongue in annoyance and reached down to hoist your legs into his arms so he could carry you bridle style.

You screeched, and his ears flickered at the sharp noise before you hissed out and clung onto him as tightly as you could while he rose you high above the ground. He could feel your heart rate speed up, and he was dumbfounded as to why you were reacting this way to him just holding you.

You said a word, and it rang a bell in his head as he tried to remember it.

Oh, height.

He quickly put you down, and you tried to relax your breathing after being speedily hauled into the air by about 7 or 8 feet and then replaced just as swiftly.

You tried to balance yourself on his leg as you felt your heart calm down, heights weren't your strong point, but you had to agree that it was going to be the best way to get there with the time restraint your injury put on you.

He spoke something else as he crouched down, putting himself at eye level with you.

"I can't understand you!" You hopelessly whimpered as your hand came to rest on his shoulder so you could try and take the pain off your other limb.

His ears downturned at the sound of your desperate groaning, and he remained silent for a second, looking off to the side in thought.

You took a deep breath, dragging his attention back to you. You stared into his eyes for a second before you nodded and held out your arm for him to take with a single word.

"Slow", your eyes tried to show bravery, but your body was still shaking like a leaf under his touch.

He felt a part of his body twitch at your word that was paired with heavy eye contact and an out-of-breath tone, but he ignored it.

This time he went much slower as he swept his hands underneath your thighs and lifted you into the air. He allowed you to get a good hold around his neck so that you weren't afraid of falling, lying to himself that the touch was for your comfort and not his own.

When you were to live with him once you agreed to be his mate, he had to get used to going slower with things. It was lucky for you that he had probably the best patience out of any of his family.

You weighed nothing to him, so he set off as soon as you were steady, and your fear slowly gave weight to amusement as his long legs steeped over each obstacle in his way that would have taken you minutes to clamber over with your one arm pinned to your side.

The whole way there, you could feel his grip around the lower part of your legs tighten when you tried to clamber closer to him, and you wanted to apologize for invading his space and deterring him from his task that he would have had to abandon to help you, but the words couldn't come out.

It took about twenty minutes of heel-and-toe walking before he finally managed to get you to the lab's opening.

Upon seeing the large metal containers, he screeched to a stop, and you looked at his face with confusion as he seemed to have caught your fear like a contagious disease as his face scrunched up. He didn't dare go any further.

Neteyam let his hands slip under your armpits and gently set you down on the ground. He looked down at you and then glanced at the containers behind you.

You were a sky person, and while he couldn't deny that you reeked of his mate, this was the most unlikely pairing anyone had seen.

You called out to him, not by name, as he hadn't told you, but he finally sighed and slid back down to a crouch as he found he had to do a lot when talking to you.

"I will be back for you, my mate, until then, look after yourself better, now go get patched up", he pressed one of his hands into the side of your head, and you lovingly pushed against his palm with a sad smile as you took his words as an apology for needing to go.

"Thank you--" You trailed off as you tried to use the silence to ask for his name.

"Neteyam", he stated with that boyish smile overtaking his features again.

"Neteyam", you repeated as you nodded, feeling the skin of his rough palm rub against you.

"You?" He found the word in English and spoke it with a heavy accent, making your smile turn to a grin.

"Y/n", you stated with a gleam in your eye.

"Y/n", he said the name verbatim to you and nodded to himself as the sound of a door opening ruined the moment.

He quickly pulled back from you and stood back up, allowing his height to take over the silent threat as Max stood on the steps to the metal lab with his hands raised to show he was unarmed as he called out to you and asked if you were all right.

"Goodbye, y/n", Neteyam’s accent was incredibly thick, and it made your skin shiver as he quickly put his fingers to his forehead and retracted them in a respectful farewell before he turned on his tail and walked back into the wilderness of Pandora, leaving you alone with your own kind.

[forever--darling]

one of us | neteyam x avatar!reader

summary: when a person's life hangs in the balance, sometimes there is only one thing to do, one thing to ask of the great mother. a consciousness transfer, but the question remains: are you strong enough to pass through the eye of eywa? lots of feelings emerge as the only option left becomes the sole possibility

pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader

word count: 11.8k

warnings/notes: finally, swearing, major angst, mention of sky people, mention of death, mention of an afterlife, lots of feelings (all mostly sad), crying, more heartbreak, with sad fluff, we're so close to the end (2/3)

series masterlist | one of us: part seven | requests are currently open for now

All energy is only borrowed, never permanent, and one day you have to give it back.

It hadn’t taken long for Neytiri and Jake to make it to the camp, the pathway completely imprinted in his memory. He couldn’t talk the whole ride as the only thought that seemed to reach his mind was a suffocating amount of guilt. The same guilt that once had rotted away in his stomach years ago when he was still a dream walker, when the sky people had long since invaded Pandora, and when he was still working under Quaritch’s terms.

That guilt almost killed him when he gained the trust of the Omatikaya people. When Home Tree was destroyed, Grace was killed, and the great war brought many warriors home to their Great Mother. Not many were sparred and those that had looked to him for the answers, the mighty Toruk Makto. It wasn’t easy and often it took guidance from many to get him to where he was today but now here he was in that forest, that same perilous feeling overtaking his senses. 

He had known you were sick, not the full extent of it or how long it had been going on but he knew. Which meant as an adult, who had been watching over you, he was partly responsible. Responsible for the outcome of your life, the effect it had on his children, on his son, on his wife, on the people. He had let other commitments cloud his mind; the sky people, the new technology they were bringing back to the planet, and how they were getting closer to the village every day. He decided to focus on those things rather than checking in on you. Whatever happened he was partly responsible. As they stopped near the lab, the grey confines of it taunting him, he also knew where he was responsible, Max and Norm were too — if not more. 

Jake slid off of the direhorse, Neytiri behind him as he approached the large steel door coated in scratches and dents — it somehow stood in this environment and within these elements. Neytiri stiffened at the sight of it, every part of her screaming to rush back into the forest away from the very place she deemed as evil and foreign. She had no motivation to step foot into the metal box but the thought of you, the real you left her heart clenching in her chest.

Worry was the sole reason why she followed her husband, clinging to his back. It was that along with the fact that Jake would need someone to keep him grounded. As he stared at it, the cage it had become, he felt all of his frustration come to the surface as the terrified thought crossed his mind that you were dead. Raising his clenched fist to the door, he knocked, the loud sound echoing across the trees. 

The first compacted door opened and they moved inside. Neytiri felt her anxieties heighten as they stepped fully into a small compressing box. Jake stared forward through the glass of the second door, gaze locked on a human man standing in a white lab coat near the keypad for the door. He was so small, so weak, so angering. As the air decompressed in the box, the scientist clicked the keypad and the second door slid open.

Jake didn’t waste a moment. He stalked in there as if he owned the place. It felt so strange under his large blue feet after having once rolled across these tiled floors. The sight of the lab brought so many memories back to him; the link pods, the screens — so many memories, most of which he didn’t find comforting. 

Max appeared on the other side of the room in his own lab coat, a worried kink in his brow. At the sight of him, Jake snarled not afraid to use his intimidating statue as he walked across the room, “Where is she?” 

The demand was sharp, cold, and uncommon to be directed at Max, as he was one of Jake’s closest confidants for almost twenty years. Max blinked in surprise up at the Olo’eyktan, and at the sight of Jake in this space, he got his own flashbacks of the first day. The first day, all those years ago that Jake got his avatar. Oh, how things had changed since then. 

“Where is she?” he asked again, tone just as cold as it was before.

“She’s in the back room, but—” 

The two Na’vi’s pushed by Max, bending down as they moved through the doorway into a smaller more compact hallway. Max hurried after them in a state of panic as Jake refused to shut his mouth, all of his fears taking flight in ugly ways.

“What, you think I wouldn’t have realized what was going on? In case you have forgotten this isn’t my first rodeo. I used to do this and an avatar doesn’t just collapse like that unless a link process is interrupted or something is fucking wrong. So, tell me what the fuck happened!” 

The room opened up in front of them with a single curtain pulled over the area to provide more privacy. Jake could see the outline of Norm’s body behind the curtain bent down and saying something. Max unable to fully find the words to calm Jake down or provide an explanation other than the truth, plucked the blue curtain into his grasp and pulled it aside.

Norm’s head snapped up in their direction, his eyes widening slightly at the site of the two tall Na’vi within the lab. He was wrapping a blanket around your exhausted frame and as the couple’s eyes fell down to the wrangled weak body, both of their shoulders dropped in devastation. The harsh furrow in Jake’s brow fell away and he found himself gripping onto the doorway to stay upright. The sight of you brought an image of Grace in her final hours to the forefront of his mind and it was difficult to swallow.

You sat, your body stuck to the mattress, slumped down as if you couldn’t even sit up. Two or three blankets were pulled up to your chest where wires stuck out connecting to monitors nearby. Jake's ears flickered at the sound of their beeping and found that the numbers of your heart rate and blood pressure should have been stronger.

IVS were hanging up beside you, the large needle lined into your arm. Your skin was ashen, sunken in, all color completely drained with large purple circles pressed along the skin below your eyes. They were barely open and he wouldn’t have believed you were actually alive if it wasn’t for the twitch in your bony finger and the steady beeping of the monitor beside you. 

“She had a seizure while in the link pod. We were able to get them to stop but she is very weak,” Norm answered and stepped back from your crumbled form. One that felt less like you every day. 

“Oh, Great Mother,” Neytiri found herself crying as she moved forward and fell to her knees at the side of the bed. 

She wished to be anywhere but there, but the sight of you had masked all of the discomfort and the rage that was interlaced deep within her bones. Instead, all she could feel was the ache in her chest from the broken looks of her children at your avatar form that had been completely motionless in her son’s arms. She felt herself aching for the soul that was slipping through the fingers of Pandora. Her eyes took in the unfamiliar but familiar face and cried, tears welling up in her widened eyes. She found herself scanning your nose, your closed eyes, the high lift of your cheeks, and the shape of your jaw. It was you, without a doubt. 

Jake was able to find his voice again, this time with a newly added edge to it, “Why was she in the link pod in the first place?” 

“What?” Norm’s eyes narrowed in confusion, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Why was she in there?” Jake was becoming hostile at that point. “If you knew she was sick, if you knew it was this bad, how could you let her keep doing this? Especially with the strain that it already was putting on her weak body.”

“Ma’Jake, please,” Neytiri asked, her voice gently sweeping through the tension of the room, gaining the attention of his rigid eyes. She tilted her head towards you, and they all watched as your head lulled from side to side at the many voices that filled the room. Your breaths were shallow, taking up too much energy that you couldn’t even open your eyes. 

Jake lowered his voice slightly but the edge remained as he glanced back and forth from Norm to Max, “You should have stopped her.” 

“You don’t think we tried? You don’t think we didn’t say something to her every day, warning her of the risks, demanding her to stop?” Max became defensive then as he stepped closer to the towering figure of one of his closest friends. His eyes narrowed, the same worry that filled Jake’s, reflected in his own. “She is not a child anymore.” 

“You mean she’s not your child,” the Olo’eyktan corrected and just like that, all previous feelings were ripped from the room, leaving it in painful silence. 

Both Max and Norm’s heads dropped for a moment as a thought crossed their mind — maybe they hadn’t tried hard enough. Maybe they should have powered down the system even if you ended up hating them. Maybe they should have done more to protect you even when you were never their child, their full responsibility to bear. Maybe just maybe even though you grew up before their eyes into a grown woman, they should have taken into account that it didn’t mean to cut you loose from support and guardianship altogether. 

Max shook his head, almost as if he was going to regret what he was about to say, “No, she’s not.” 

“She may not be yours or technically a kid anymore but when she is living under your roof, you need to have some responsibility. When she is living under your roof, she is still a child,” Jake sighed, feeling the anger start to dissipate as he sent another glance at you, at your human body. At the very body, he hadn’t seen in almost two years, not like this, not this small, this different. You had grown and would be nineteen in the next year and it showed — you had become an adult under everyone's noses. If only you had the ability and the time to make it. “How much time does she have?” 

“We can’t know for sure but based on her state and how weak she is… Weeks? A month or two maybe?” Norm admitted, the state of how he found you in the link pod still pressed firmly into the front of his mind. Your faraway gaze, rigid body, and trembling lips. Your lips shook as if you were asking for time to kiss you and grant you treatment. You were barely there and laying in that damn bed, you were barely there. 

“She doesn’t have a few months, not with the sky people invading. We could have serious trouble on our hands in two months. The sky people are coming, they are getting closer every day and I need a plan. A plan to protect my family, my people, and my land. I need a plan and I am not going to put a sick young woman in the line of fire. I won’t.”

Jake shook his head and stepped further into the room, looking around at the medical supplies and the neutral-colored walls. The sterile smell filled his nose. It all reminded him of the V.A. hospital when there was a big hole blown through the middle of his life. That’s what the lab reminded him of and it sent a shiver down his spine. You couldn't stay there, not like this. He wouldn’t allow it because whatever the fuck they were doing wasn’t doing shit. Even with medicine and science on their side, it had done nothing. He wasn’t about to lose another person because of his actions — he wouldn’t. 

“She can’t stay here,” he suddenly said, eyes set on his wife, “We can’t leave her here. I won’t.” 

Max stepped forward trying to get closer to you but Neytiri stood blocking him, “Jake, you can’t just—”

“You’ve done enough.” 

The two scientists’ mouths dropped, and both of their glares widened at the tall Olo’eyktan — a man who day one had never thrown caution to the wind in his life but since becoming a leader had taken on a new role to be deliberate in his actions, think accordingly, and communicate in a way to not piss other people off. It was like that persona was gone from that room for a moment and instead it was an overprotective parent who thought they had all the answers. He was bossy, haywire, and everything that resembled a father.

Somehow his cold tone and his rapid decision weren’t justifiable enough for Max. He had seen the impossible, and as a scientist, he had detested and forced himself to not believe it. Max had seen the impossible in Jake, in the consciousness transfer, in the balance of the world that had managed to change one man's life. He had seen the impossible with the Omatikaya people but at that moment with your life hanging in that very balance, he could only look to science, in the concreteness that was medicine.

“Jake, listen to me, she is sick. This isn’t just another dress-up game where she is going to run off into the forest to become something else. She won’t survive this.” 

“Are you fucking serious?” he snapped, eyes narrowing even further until they resembled golden crescents like the morning sun that crept through their tent every morning, “This has never been a game and you know that. To me, it wasn't and it sure as hell isn't to her. If you saw her out there, the way she is when she is in that body, you would know that. Except that I think a part of you already does, knows how much she wants it, and that scares the hell out of you. Especially since there is nothing else you can do for her, and it sucks. It really does... but do you hear me when I say we can do something? The people can save her.” 

“What like you saved Grace,” Max shot back, the words cruel and unnecessary and he watched as Jake’s face went slack. For a moment the short scientist reveled in the image, “I know it has happened, the unexplainable. Because what you witnessed... what happened to you was the unexplainable, but Jake that's what? A one in a million. You're the exception, we all know that, but she's not you. I don't like the odds, not when I have seen it. Her virus, her illness, and I am deciding to combat it with medicine. I am choosing science’s side.” 

Neytiri felt her teeth bare, sink into her lower lip, fangs glimmering from the white lights of the room. As a growl left her throat, she stepped forward protectively towards her mate, “And your medicine has done nothing. It’s done nothing!” 

At that point with two pointed gazes locked down on him, Max couldn’t help but glance your way knowing that every word they spoke was true. Any worse, you could be slipping away, out of their fingers, by the end of the week. If you hadn’t been getting better with the months of treatment they had been doing, the antibiotic and the fluids, what else could they do to help you? There wasn’t another option, and he knew right then science or not this was your last chance.

Norm looked from you to Jake and within that mutual stare, they shared an understanding, a silent understanding. Stepping forward, his palm fell to Max’s shoulder, “This is her only chance."

"Norm—"

"She’s not going to get better because she hasn't yet and you know that. This is her last chance. And yes, god forbid, Eywa forbid that it doesn’t work, that we somehow lose her... at least it will be on her own terms and in a place, she’d want to spend her last moments.” 

The words everyone had been avoiding were out in the air and it struck a chord, one that left them all in silence and complete denial. Only, because no one expected this. When you had been given your avatar six months prior, no one thought to think this is where you would end up, chained to a bed with the only thing to save you being that body. No one thought either that you would have fallen in love with the forest, the people, and the eldest son of the Olo'eyktan either, but you did. It happened. It all had happened and now it was beginning to unravel in front of them and suddenly they were being faced with a choice.

You were dying and the sky people were coming. Another war was soon to take place and Jake and Neytiri were making plans for the future Olo'eyktan. Neteyam would be Olo'eyktan one day whether you would be there to see it or not. It all was happening and none of them would have thought that when it was, you would be in the middle of a whispered conversation with the Mother herself.

Max wiped his eyes from behind his glasses and sent one last longing look to you. You once had been the little girl who'd sit on his lap for hours staring at a digital image of an avatar's brain with complete awe. Now there you lay, all grown up and possibly about to get the life you had always wanted. Your choice had been made up about the life you wanted as soon as you had entered that avatar body. And your choice would be his choice.

“Just, if you’re going to do it… The consciousness transfer, do it sooner rather than later. If you want her to survive it, you will do it as soon as you can. She's already lost a lot of energy.” 

It was the last thing anyone said and as Jake nodded to Max, reassuringly, his tough-guy act dropped immediately. Almost like they had come to a mutual understanding: one father to another.

From that moment on, there was a continuous movement of people in and out of the room. All bustling as they worked to disconnect your monitors, pull out the IVS, wrap your body up in blankets to keep you warm against the cold air, and secure a mask tightly over your face. Then just like that, you were ready and leaving as if it was always how it was destined to be. You, leaving. Norm and Max each took you in for one last time as Jake and Neytiri exited the lab, both hoping they would never have to be there again.

Jake couldn’t help but stare down at you, so small in his arms, so unlike the warrior he had gotten the privilege to watch the last six months. You had transformed just as he once had, gaining the wings like an Ikran, and you would fly away, not daring to look back. Evident in the lingering glances you sent his son and how you absorbed every part of the forest, you would give anything to be transferred into your other body. Then more so as with each night you spent in the forest, in your avatar body, the longer you would stay awake. Like you were hoping to forever prolong the linking process to that one still moment in time. Now, after all this time, you could have it.

As Jake climbed on his direhorse, he heard the shift in your breath along with seeing the small tremble in your body — the first sign of movement he had seen at all. Glancing down at you again, he found your eyes softly staring up at him, through heavy lids. He glanced at Neytiri then back down at you, taking your tiny cold hand in his own. He stared at his five fingers and compared them to yours as your soft voice filled his ears. 

“Don’t let Neteyam see me like this.” 

“She’s very weak,” Mo’at expressed, honestly as her fingers danced across your closed eyes.

From the moment you were brought back to the village, in your human form, it was like you were finally awake. Finally, seeing the world as more than a recurrent fever dream. It was a world you had only ever witnessed through another pair of eyes and someone else's skin. Somehow the forest had become so much more than a training ground to you over that time. However, you realized then, that no matter how many times you had seen it before, it would never top being able to see it with your own eyes. The ones you had been born with.

It was a dream that had been painted on your soul from the moment you had come onto this planet and as you stared up at the luminescent green foliage while you rode on the back of the direhorse, you felt as if your life was complete. Like Eywa was watching over you, reaching out her arms and promising you that whatever happened you would be okay.

Staring up past the trees to the black-coated sky littered with stars and planets, you felt a new kind of peace wash over you. Your breath had evened out and you blinked slowly, entirely entranced by the skyline scattered with constellations. The constellations that resembled the ivory spots speckled across his nose and his body. That's all you could think about — the ivory-speckled sky and how it reminded you of the glow that would overtake him at night.

Please, Great Mother, protect Neteyam and his ivory-scattered face. 

As soon as you got back, Neytiri distracted the kids, allowing Jake to get you to Mo’at without anyone seeing. Partly to prevent panic from appearing in the village, but mostly to stick to your one and only request. Don’t let Neteyam see me like this. Those six words served as a confirmation to Jake. A confirmation that once again only served the greater suspicion that there was more going on under the surface. Deeper feelings were involved here whether the two of you had admitted it, and Jake wasn't sure how he hadn't seen it before. But maybe he had.

The lingering gazes. The light touches. Neteyam sneaking out of the tent at night, for months. His attitude suddenly improving. He was always cautious around you when Jake was close by as if he was afraid of the Olo'eyktan connecting the dots from the softness he displayed to you or the look in his eyes, which was less than innocent. It all had been there but for months, Jake Sully had been turning a blind eye to it all. Despite his duty as Olo'eyktan to accept the arranged marriage that would be pushed onto his son along with all the other responsibilities, he let the interactions and the feelings play out in plain sight.

Now, he was going to willingly do what any Olo'eyktan would and protect the last wishes of a member of his clan. He was making a split decision based on the six words he never thought you would have openly admitted. That it was and always had been Neteyam for you. How it was the one son of his that had been promised a throne and a chosen future mate, the one son you couldn't have willingly. Somehow it filled him with a sense of deja vu, as if when he saw you he was looking at a mere reflection of the person he used to be. Alongside that, a repeated history. The outsider and the chief's chosen child. Somehow under all of his turning a blind eye, you and Neteyam had not only become Jake and Neytiri but were being torn apart for it.

For a while, Jake stood in the corner of the room, Neytiri appearing after a while closing off the tent from any onlookers. The majority who would have been her own children. She stood next to Jake, her hand comfortingly finding a place on his shoulder.

They had watched as Mo'at closed her eyes and let the feelings of Eywa guide her. She took in many deep breaths as mumbled words escaped her mouth in the form of tongues. Then just as quickly as it had begun, her eyes were reopening, leaving her meeting with Eywa as Jake liked to call it. She glanced at the couple before her and spouted what he could only hear as bullshit. She’s very weak. 

“Well help her goddamn it!” 

“Jake!” Neytiri hissed as the tone of his voice emitted not only a glare on her face but a chip in her tone. 

From outside the tent, four dark statues lingered in the dark, near the side of the healing tent. Light poured out of the bottom bathing Kiri and Lo’ak’s faces in slivers of warm light. They lay on their fronts, chins leaning along their hands as they held their breaths, desperate to unravel what they were looking at. They could only see the outline of their grandmother, the Tsahik’s side from the confined view they had. With Spider and Tuk sitting on the other side of Lo'ak, the eight-year-old hugged her knees to her chest in a state of confusion. When her parents left, she had spent the whole time berating her older siblings with questions about you — were you okay? What had exactly happened? Were you coming back?

All questions with answers none of the older siblings had.

Neteyam crouched on the other side of Kiri, leaning his ear close to the side of the tent, trying to understand the mumblings from inside. His heart had shattered and he felt as if he had been cut open, exposing everything he was feeling to the gaping air. It made his stomach twist at the thought and he was starting to feel sick.

The sight of your avatar collapsing in his arms was still very present in his mind — as well as how his father had avoided him the second he returned forbidding anyone from seeing you, the other you. Your human body and the current body that held everything that made you, you. It was hard to imagine you any other way. For six straight months, he was memorizing every detail of your blue features just in case his golden irises would be deracinated from his face. Now all he could think about was what you really looked like, what you were born to look like.

Lo’ak leaned closer to his sister, voice breaking and coming out in low mumbles, “What did she say?” 

“Shh,” she hushed back, bumping her brother in the side, harsher than she intended too. 

“She’s weak, that’s what Mo’at is saying,” Neteyam spoke up softly, the words acting as needles as they ripped holes into his skin, “She doesn’t know if they can save her.” 

Kiri glanced up at Neteyam and felt her shoulders drop disappointedly as his expression came to light for her. How pain-stricken he was and how utterly shattered his voice sounded as it echoed in her ears. She felt Eywa there at that moment, filling her entire body, as she witnessed firsthand how strongly her brother felt for you. It had blinded him out of nowhere and a pit formed in his stomach at how sudden it all was. Over time, that dread and that fear had drifted off into the wind as if they had rolled off his back while flying through the sky.

Then there was you. How you had become a slight wreck over your feelings for the future Olo'eyktan. She could still feel your own confession lingering in the back of her mind. How shy you had gotten, how ashamed you had been when she had found out you liked Neteyam, possibly loved him.

Somehow under all of the excruciating lectures, stubborn-filled disputes, and contemptuous glares, two souls had found one another, deep within the forest under the phosphorescent green of the trees. 

She blinked and looked away, letting the prospect of the two of you fade away, leaving nothing but an imprint of dust in its wake. They all instead directed their attention back to the tent, ears twitching in unison and tails swishing anxiously as their father’s voice filled the air. 

“She’s dying, don’t you see that? One of our own is dying,” Jake pleaded then, his anger melted away like icicles in the warm temperature and all that was left was a puddle of desperation and fear. “So, please help her. Do the consciousness transfer. Do it, if it means the possibility of saving her life."

As Mo’at glanced down from your shivering human form to the empty blue vessel beside you, she knew what he was asking of her. He was right and it would have to be in Eywa’s hands now. The very hands you had tried to get yourself in weeks ago when you appeared in the doorway of her tent pleading and begging for her to consider. To think about your request, ask Eywa to guide you and herself to an answer. Tsahik, without much consideration or even listening to Eywa's plan or will, denied your request. Even when Jake Sully, Toruk Makto, had once come to her with the same request, and even when she saw so much of him in you, including a strong heart, she denied the request.

When Mo’at looked at you, she saw a young woman. A young woman with all the reasons and desires in the world to ask for this request and to ask for the opportunity to change her life. Your soul's existence depended on the opportunity to live life fully as a Na’vi, and That’s why Tsahik couldn’t accept it. Your whole life.

A young and prestigious life she didn’t want to be cut short not when there was still so much time. She feared that Eywa’s will wouldn’t be what was hoped by the rest of the clan, her family, so she denied you. For fear of taking the light out of your eyes as well as the light out of her grandchildren. 

“She’s weak so we must do it tonight. The more strength she has the better,” she finally spoke looking from Jake to her dutiful daughter, “Alert the village. We need everyone, do you understand? We need all the support we can for this. An hour and then we go.” 

The couple, the clan's leaders, the two everyone looked to in a crisis felt the weight on their shoulders deepen. Anxiety formed, pushing down on their tracheas as it all began to feel too real too fast. But panic couldn't happen. Freaking out couldn't happen. There wasn't enough time for it and there sure as hell wasn't room for it.

Jake took Neytiri’s hand in his and walked towards the entrance of the tent, all strength, and will of his own feelings lost. As they stepped out, the tent's flap falling shut behind them, a rush of air fell from his mouth. Neytiri, able to feel his energy deep within her bones, wrapped her arms around his broad torso. Her chin found a place against his shoulder and they stared forward at the rest of the village, the forest, their home, and everything in between. They listened to one another’s hearts and stood there for a brief moment, letting their breaths linger into one before Neytiri unwrapped herself around him. 

As she did, they both were startled by the sound of rustling as well as a soft groan of a very familiar prominent voice. They shared a look with one another, communicating the same conclusion as they stepped around the tent to where the sound had come from. It wasn't a surprise to find their four children squatted and laying around in the dirt, ears pressed close to the tent. Suddenly all their movements stopped as they felt the shadows looming over them, blocking the moonlight and concealing them in darkness.

All four heads then tilted cautiously and were met by the scariness of their mother, who stood with a hip popped out and arms crossed over her chest. Her stare only hardened further when she found her youngest, no more than eight years old, sitting there, a pained expression on the child's face. Neytiri looked over her shoulder at Jake but he merely shrugged as if he wasn't surprised at all by the sight in front of him. He held his arms to her; a silent signal that he was leaving the situation for her to handle.

Inhaling, her lips parted, ready to scold them not only for eavesdropping on a conversation not meant for their ears but for letting Tuk hear every word, something she could barely process at her age. Before Neytiri could get a word out, she found her youngest staring up at her, large eyes widened with fear and sadness, bottom lip quivering.

Tuk’s eyes filled with tears and slowly began to fall, drenching her innocent face, “Is Y/N going to be okay? What happened to her?” 

The other three older siblings’ bodies stiffened unwillingly, ears dropping back while their own theories and assumptions were formed. But even with their thoughts and concerns, they all found themselves peering up to their mother, who seemed to be all-knowing and often had the right thing to say in moments like this. It was a mother's intuition and they all stared at her, asking for an answer that was far better than any of their own. They all held their breath as they watched the glare melt away completely from her face while she opened her arms welcomingly for her youngest child. 

“Oh, my prrnen (baby),” Neytiri cooed as Tuk reached up to be pulled up into her mother's arms. As her small innocent face met her mother's neck, her tear bubbles collapsed, letting her salty tears fall freely upon Neytiri's skin. “Know this, that whatever happens, Y/N will be okay. She will be at peace one way or another. I don't know what's going to happen, but that is not something for us to worry about right now. Our Great Mother has a plan and whatever comes of it, everything will be okay. Do you understand me, maite (my daughter)?” 

Hands rubbing softly at Tuk’s back, her gaze fell to the rest of her children and their anxious eyes. They looked to her as if a mother could solve the world’s most significant problems and she wished at that moment she could. She wished she could take all of your pain, all of your sickness, all of the limitations your body held away. She wanted more than anything with her children’s eyes boring up at her that she could promise you life to prevent their suffering.

“The ritual is in an hour,” Jake said then, gaining the three older children’s attention as he tried to wrap his head around how he wanted to handle this situation. He couldn’t bear the idea of them being at the consciousness transfer and watching with the possibility that it wouldn't work. He couldn’t watch every hope and every fiber of light in their bodies fade away at the sight of what could be a final send-off. “Whatever you need to do, I suggest you do it now because there is a chance you won't be able to later.” 

“Can we see her?” Kiri asked then, sitting up to hug her knees to her chest, voice pleading, “Please? Can we just sit with her and talk to her. Dad, I can’t go the ritual without having said—” 

“Fine,” he interrupted her, his heart constricting with grief at the sound of his daughter’s broken voice, “Fine, yes, you can see her. But none of you will be at the ritual. Do you read me? I don’t want you attending the transfer.” 

In perfect sync all of their eyes widened in shock, ears pulling back in dejection as their father's command fell straight into their laps. Lo’ak sat up quickly, in complete disbelief, “But—” 

“No, but anything. I don’t want any of you there, do you understand?” 

That edge had returned in his voice and Jake took two seconds each to drill his gaze into his children, trying to make it stick within their minds, so that no matter how many times the thought appeared to go against his words, the remembrance of his stone cold glare would stop them. He couldn't be sure that it would work, especially as he caught the look on Lo'ak's face. It was the same look he gave whenever he was given orders or asked to do something against his own troublesome consciousness. It was passive, him nodding his head as if he was listening though he never took anything serious his father said. It was the same exact look Jake was getting then.

“Do — you — understand?” 

He spoke slower and finally got the response he wanted. All three of his older children nodded their heads while Lo’ak verbally respond with, “Yes, sir.” 

Neteyam could only stare up past Jake, huffing quietly. It was loud enough to catch his father’s attention anyway. Jake narrowed his gaze down at his oldest but the young warrior wouldn't falter. Instead, Neteyam matched him with the same expression.

No gunmetal would warp at that moment as Neteyam felt every inch of anger and frustration ball together. The order for them to stay away during the ceremony left him astonished and pissed off. His father still saw them as children and felt like he had this responsibility to protect them. But other than Tuk, none of them needed his protection. They had grown up and that was something he obviously couldn't accept.

Somehow it only filled Neteyam with more spite because there was nothing left that needed to be protected. Every innocence had been stolen and he couldn’t remember the last time he had been treated like a child, free of any responsibilities. For years he had been viewed and trained like a serviceman, kept on a shelf until he was needed. His whole life he had been ordered around; Go pick up an extra couple of hours of training. Watch over your brother. Learn how to use a gun. Take on extra challenges with other warriors. Heck, marry and mate with a woman of our choosing.

They had every part of him. They had taken every piece of him and he had willingly let them. For years he had been ordered around as if he was incapable of thinking for himself. In reality, they couldn't afford him to think and make decisions for themselves because it would go against what was best for the clan.

Some things never changed though. He stood just outside the healing tent, where the Tsahik was trying to save the only woman he has ever had feelings for, and he was expected to follow commands again. He was supposed to let them put him back on the shelf and wait for further instructions. Your life was hanging in the balance and they were asking him to be absent from the ritual that would decide what would happen. He couldn’t do that.

His hard-set gaze met Jake’s, refusing to back down. He watched then as the Toruk Makto dismissed him and instead sent one more look to each of his children. He nodded in the direction of the healing tent, “Go on.” 

One by one, they all stood silently and began to approach the tent, with dread being the only thing evidently strewn across their faces. Neytiri slowly set Tuk down, wiping what was left of her tears, that motherly smile occupying her face as she watched the rest of her children approach the tent. As Neteyam stepped by them though, the thought of you the only thing guiding him forward, Jake’s eyes found Neytiri’s. She hadn’t seemed to understand what he was trying to say, but she turned to give him her full attention anyway at the obnoxious way he cleared his throat. 

Her ears flickered curiously then as his stare frantically began to flicker back and from their oldest son to her. Lo’ak and Spider had stepped into the tent with Tuk waiting by the doorway, clearly contemplating if she wanted to go inside herself. Neytiri then found herself looking at Neteyam who was getting close to the entrance. She felt the thought kick in at what Jake was referring to or rather what you had asked of him. Him was the key term, but Neytiri felt her brows draw forward on her forehead in exasperation at his clear hesitation. The Toruk Makto had no problem lecturing his sons until their ears bled but being able to break the worst news and offer comfort to them might as well have been foreign, especially in their older years. He was terrified of it and Neytiri found it utterly ridiculous.

As Jake didn’t show any signs of calling out to Neteyam, she huffed out and shook her head at her husband, narrowing her gaze at him. The words very bad were communicated vexingly through her eye contact. She sighed then as she called out to Neteyam, “Maitan (my son)!”

Neteyam’s ears perked up at the sound of his mother’s voice and just as his hand grasped around the tent flap, so close to where you were, he pulled back to face her. She waved him over, and with frustration and confusion, he stepped away from the tent. Kiri, who was just about to enter, noticed the interaction of their mother pulling him aside and decided to wait, in favor of watching the conversation play out instead.

“What?” Neteyam questioned, the sharpness of his tongue not unnoticed.

Neytiri’s initial reaction was to smack him upside the head for it, but she held back knowing the sharpness was nothing but a reflection of how he was feeling. He wasn’t trying to be difficult or disrespectful. He just didn't have the energy or the care anymore to be any other way.

Neytir's gaze softened, the same one she had spared moments ago as she clutched her youngest in her arms. Neteyam noticed it right away, the look she was giving him. He would never admit it, but he knew his mother better than the rest of his siblings, and at the sight of her eyebrows drawing together softly, he felt his stomach drop. The lines between them displayed feelings of stress and disappointment. She wore it across her face — how badly she wished to offer him the moon and the stars. 

As her hand reached for his shoulder, that’s when he figured it out for sure. Why she had stopped him from entering, her shared looks with Jake, the way she was trying to steer him from the tent. It all made sense and a low growl took everyone by surprise as he peered over his shoulder at Kiri and the opening of the tent.

When he looked back at his mother, he felt his fists clench at his sides, “She doesn't want to see me. That's what you are going to tell me, aren't you? You pulled me aside because she told you she doesn't want to see me. ” 

“Yes,” Neytiri admitted slowly. 

A pin dropped and within a beat of time, as if only a second had passed, Neteyam resurfaced but angrier and more annoyed than before. He stepped back out of her grasp, and her hand was left dangling in the air as his tail whipped back and forth aggressively.

“No. Fuck that!"

“Neteyam!” she hissed, taking a hold of his arm and yanking him back despite his best efforts to escape her. He didn’t dare overpower his mother though or do anything that would disrespect her. Instead, he let her hold his arm too tightly, while her glare drilled holes into the side of his head.

“I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish more than anything that it didn’t, but who would we be if we denied her wishes.” 

Her wishes. 

She spoke as if you were already dead and he felt himself tense under her words, his entire body becoming rigid. He closed his eyes for a moment as if trying to breathe through the pang in his chest. To calm himself down, he held his breath deep within his lungs for almost a minute before he released it. When he did, he felt the heartbreak creep up within his body until it was past his throat and on the tip of his tongue. Then he broke right in front of her.

“Her wishes? Do you even hear yourself right now, sa’nok (mother)? You're acting as if she has already died and is with Eywa. How can you just... No, damn her wishes because if there is a chance that I could lose her I am not going to stand out here and let her... I can’t just stand here and let her go into that ritual without telling her how I feel.” 

“It was not my choice, ma‘eveng (my child),” she whispered cooly, as Neteyam was starting to appear frantic.

The choice isn’t mine to bear.

He clenched his eyes shut again, suddenly stained with the memory of you standing within the mauve tendrils, beautiful face barring every raw emotion of your soul to him. Tears suspended in your eyes for a second as he felt every possible pain rip open in his chest, a pain so horrible it let his flaws and deceptions take over. He had hurt you right back and he knew just as everyone once would that he was no warrior. No perfect son. No perfect soldier. No man worth bearing the sins of the world. Your words crept back into his mind.

Then I will bear it. 

Neteyam, the way I feel about you is consuming.

“This is fucking bullshit!”

Just as Neytiri was going to comfort her son, try and offer any encouraging words she could, she felt his arm be pulled from her grasp. He was stepping away from her and her motherly gaze that was slowly suffocating him. He stared hard at his father as he passed him, sarcastically thanking him for all of his help in this whole thing, before stalking away in the opposite direction of the healing tent, his family, and you. 

They all watched him go and Kiri found herself stepping away from the tent in favor of going after her older brother. She nodded at her parents reassuringly, “I got it.” 

She took off in his direction, picking up her pace to catch up with him. As Jake and Neytiri watched them go, she huffed over at Jake, crossing her arms over her chest intently. That worried line in between her brows had formed again as her mind began to ramble with questions if what she was doing for her children and her people were right. Neteyam was the one she thought about long and hard, wondering if what they were doing was right. She felt like she had failed him or rather they all had failed him. As no one had ever made it easy on him from the moment he was born. There was not one sole point in time where they considered things from his point of view, his life, his future, or how once he had been full of childhood dreams. Instead, they just deemed them as improbable outcomes.

It was as if Jake could read her mind, all starting from that stressful line on her forehead between her brows. “He can’t be there. He will never forgive himself if he watches her….” 

“And he’ll never forgive us if she somehow dies and we never let him say goodbye.” 

Kiri chased after her brother, letting her parents' voices fade behind her. Her eyes narrowed at him as he walked in front of her or rather stomped in front of her. His braids swung from side to side, his back muscles tense and rigid. She could see every twitch of annoyance and frustration in his form, displayed on his back like any true man would — never demonstrating it out loud or through words but rather through body language.

Picking up her steps, she called out to him but he ignored her as he made it through the village. He was making a move for the forest, but Kiri knew that if he did disappear into the lush greenery, who knew when he would be back. There wasn't time for it.

“Neteyam, stop!” she finally yelled, firmly grabbing onto his elbow and yanking him back. 

He hissed at the way her nails dug into the skin of his forearm and let his feet come to a stop. Staring forward at the forest, his means of escape, a loud sigh fell from his lips. Unable to push the pain off his face, he refused to look at her, and instead tilted his head to the side, his broken gaze falling to the ground.

“What? What do you want?” 

“You can’t just storm off like this,” Kiri admitted, slightly out of breath from chasing after him, “Not right now and not like this. We need to stick together when something like this happens, so you can't just leave. Because believe it or not, everyone looks to you as much as they look to Dad during a crisis. Your presence is important, now more than ever. That, and I don't think you should be alone.” 

Scoffing he shook his head, denying her admission. More so, he wouldn’t stand there and let her give him that same pitying stare his mother couldn’t wipe from her face. “The fact that you would use my future title against me right now, are you serious? Tell, me Kiri other than that the people need me why I should stay. Y/N doesn’t want to see me, so what’s the point?” 

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Kiri’s hand fell from around him, suddenly feeling angered by his words and his tone as if he was brushing you off like it was the only thing he could do when around other people, “I mean what the hell is wrong with you? You can’t even admit that you have feelings for her, can you? Seriously? Nothing, at all? Neteyam, she could die, she could not survive this transfer and you still can’t fucking say it out loud.” 

His shoulders dropped, her voice cutting through him like a knife cuts through flesh, with resistance but then giving away. The more things she said, the easier it was to get through to him past the bullshit and the fear. Exhaling, he finally turned around to face her, his little sister, and felt his words get caught at the sight of how sad she appeared. Her eyes displayed every form of grief and anger, and it was all pointed straight at him. 

“I can't,” he responded, his confession wearing her tight expression away, “If I say it, it will become real. Everything these past six months will be right there in front of me. Every night spent together, every argument about her training, every reaction, and feeling she brought out of me. Except if I admit my feelings for her, it would also mean that I have to admit that I am losing her. I will be admitting that she is sick and dying, and I can’t accept that Kiri. I can’t..” 

Kiri stared up at her brother, eyes wide and wallowing in unshed tears as every friction and pause in his voice spoke to everything he was saying. He was barring a part of himself to her at that moment which he had never done before. He was looking past the perfection that was expected of him and let his insecurities ring out in the air and while it was killing him to his very core, a part of him felt relief. 

“Kiri, she’s not mine. She never was and I didn't have the thought to even ask. We could never be together so why even say anything to her, but I guess now, it doesn't even fucking matter, does it? All that duty and expectations bullshit means nothing because she is slipping away right in front of us. And now that I realize that, she doesn't even want to fucking see me."

She sighed, one that was brought out from deep within, as she took a hold of his arm again. This time gently almost like if she pressed any harder, he would break. Or he would get scared, sink back into his shell, and close himself off from the rest of the world.

“Neteyam—”

“What is that?” he shouted, pupils dilated and crazed as his eyes became drenched in tears, he wished would never fall. 

“Neteyam, please,” Kiri cried then, gripping his arm harder to get his gold eyes to lock with hers, to get him to calm down as his breathing was erratic pulling and prodding at his chest as if he were trying to self-destruct right before her eyes. “You need to try and understand what she is asking of you.” 

“I won't do this. I have to see her.” 

She shushed him then, his cries falling silent upon his tongue, “Brother, you have never seen her like this, do you understand that? For six months, you have only seen Y/N in her avatar body and as one of us. You have never seen her in this true form, in her human body.” 

“I don’t care about that, Kiri, you know that,” he replied, brows drawing down on his face as he tucked his bottom lip in between his front teeth. 

“Okay, but she’s also sick, very sick, and I can’t imagine that the last time she'd want you to see her would be like this. Not as this weak, shell of a person she doesn’t even recognize as herself anymore,” Kiri explained carefully, her tears starting to fall without her even realizing as she gripped harder onto Neteyam, “It sounds like she knows what could happen, what’s at risk here. It’s not that she doesn’t want to see you. It’s that, she would rather have the last time you saw her be from earlier. She’d be okay with the fact it was in the forest, in your arms, and in her avatar body because it would mean you would remember her that way, at that moment.”

Her words had struck him in the chest harder than any blow he had ever gotten in his entire life. It was worse than when he had collided with one of the floating mountains on his first Ikran ride, or the time when he had gotten the shit beat out of him early on his training days. It was even worse than when Lo’ak had beat the shit out of him hours ago. In fact, it felt as if it was worse than all of those things combined.

She’d be okay with the fact that it was in the forest, in your arms, and in her avatar body.

Neteyam bit down on his lower lip, reopening the wound that Lo’ak had put there earlier as every single word of that one sentence made him recoil. If the last time he saw you, talked to you, was in front of that tree screaming at you as you finally told him how you felt. The way I feel about you is consuming. No, it couldn't be. That would be complete and utter bullshit. He sure as hell wouldn’t stand by and let the last time you saw him be there, under that tree not only rejecting your heart but his own feelings. 

Neteyam had been selfless his whole life until it had come to you and he wasn’t about to return to the person he was before you, refusing to listen to his own feelings and what he wanted. At that moment he was choosing to be selfish, to choose himself and to choose you over some last dying wish. He knew it was wrong, so wrong, but it didn’t stop him from stalking the healing tent for the next half hour, watching as each person came and went. His bottom lip at that point was rebleeding and torn to shreds but he needed something, some sort of distraction from the fears that were starting to take over his body.

There were fifteen minutes until you were going to be transported to the site and another fifteen before the ritual would start. Neteyam watched from afar he as Mo’at walked out of the tent, her hands full and her gaze seemingly distracted. She disappeared far into the village and Neteyam snuck out from around the side of the tent he had been standing for nearly a half hour. Having the darkness to disappear into, he slipped into the tent unnoticed. With no one following him, he close the front lapels of the tent and turned slowly on his heels.

He felt his entire body freeze, hands clenching at his sides while his breathing suddenly sped up. Dim lanterns encased the room, emitting a soft glow and he felt all sanity escape him at the sight of the avatar body that had been in his grasp only two hours before. The only you he had ever known. It looked so cold without your animated expressions, that familiar pinched line in between your eyebrows, or the tiny divots of your dimples that appeared when you smiled. It was you and had been the you he had given himself to completely but at that moment it wasn’t you at all. Its eyes were closed and already having been prepared for the ritual, the body was wrapped up in blankets to be transferred.

His eyes then took in the much smaller form laid a few feet away from it, all bundled up, chest rising and falling with each deep breath that was inhaled. He cautiously walked forward and as the soft glow brushed along his face, he felt as if his body was at a standstill, all air pulled from his lungs.

Completely unmoving, he finally saw you for the first time — the real you and his entire world was shifted on its axis. You were all soft lashes, smooth skin, and glistening full lips. With your eyes fluttered shut, he wondered what color your they were, the opening of your soul. He wanted you to open them. He wanted to see if they matched the ones he had been staring into for six months. Other than that, the slope of your nose was smaller and your eyebrows were different, more prominent, and the markings on your skin were completely dissimilar to the ivory specks he was so used to admiring.

Somehow though, even with an entirely different person in front of him, you were entirely familiar — all of his favorite parts of you were the same, and just as you had looked earlier that night underneath the mauve tree, there in that tent and in that body, you were ethereal. And you were his even not officially, you were. Ma’ Y/N.

Tears once again resurfaced after the countless times he had reeled them back in that day. Slowly, he sunk down onto his knees beside you and listened to the way you breathed, trying to memorize the sound of it for as long as he could. Glancing down to your side, he found his eyes flickering with interest at the sight of your hand, limp across the blanket. Five fingers, smaller than his own, just as your other always had been. Staring down at it, he couldn’t help himself and before he realized it, he was reaching for it. Engulfing your smaller one in his, he watched as it slipped into his with ease as if it was meant to be there. He felt a type of warmth fill his chest then as your hand twitched in his. 

Tilting his head, he looked back up to your face and found himself taken aback at the sight of two small doe-eyes peering up at him. They were so elegant and nothing like he had expected but somehow he would commit them to his memory then and there. They scanned over his face like it was the first time you’d ever seen him and he felt his heart rate speed up when they had narrowed slightly. Your brows knitted together to bring back that pinched look he had just been reminiscing about seconds before.

The sight of you staring at him felt almost scrutinizing and based on that furrow in your brow and the slight frown that occupied your glistening and completely temptatious lips, this was without a doubt you. He knew then that it didn’t matter which body you were in, which form whether human or avatar, it would always feel like this. With you, he would always feel this. 

“Hm, so this is you. Well it's nice to finally meet you, Y/N Y/L/N, all of you," he said suddenly, voice low and so soft it comforted you in more ways than one.

A few moments ago when you had felt a sudden pressure on your hand and the warmth of calloused skin, you couldn’t help but stir from the sleep that had suddenly overtaken you. You didn’t know who to expect when you opened your eyes, but it definitely wasn’t Neteyam. You never thought it could be but as you looked up and adjusted to the light, sure enough, it was.

He was there, staring down at you just as clearly as he had been in the forest among the mauve tendrils of the Tree of Souls. At first, you couldn’t deny how the feeling of his hand wrapped around yours resembled a hug and all the consolation in the world you needed. However, despite the affectionate look about him you couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing there. How he could have been there when you deliberately had said he wasn't allowed to be. You didn’t want him to see you like this and definitely didn't ask for him to come and see all your insecurities looming over you just before the consciousness transfer.

That was when the annoyance set in, evidently by the furrowing together of your eyebrows and the downward curve of your lips. You stared up at him, not knowing if you even had it in you to speak to him. He chuckled out, hand squeezing yours, feeling as if you had captivated him completely at that moment.

“Look, I can tell by the way you're staring at me right now, that you're angry I'm here."

Your lips parted as if you were going to reply, and you watched as Neteyam leaned closer as if he needed to hear your voice. The reassurance that it was still you in front of him, the same person. But as you inhaled, he could feel the way you were struggling to even do that, breath.

"Nete— "

His hand squeezed yours again, reassuringly, his unshed tears were so clear to you then, like uncut glass in the soft lighting from the lanterns. “No, don't. Don't say anything. You have already said everything you needed to. You had your chance, now it's my turn. It’s my turn to talk.” 

With his eyes earnestly staring down into yours, you exhaled the breath you were holding and let your chest relax, parted lips closing with ease. You nodded then, letting the pinched look leave your face as if you were alleviating his anxiety with it. It was his turn then to breathe, his words jumbled across his tongue, adding weight to his mouth as he couldn’t dare look away from you. Finally, as you offered him an encouraging smile, he felt all of that weight be lifted off. 

“Look, I know you didn’t want me here not like this and especially not now, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t leave things the way they were. I wouldn’t do that to us, Y/N, because you deserve more than that,” he said, stumbling slightly while completely worried that everything was coming out wrong. But based on how it felt so right in his chest and the tears gathering in your eyes, he knew it was more than enough. "I don't know what's going to happen but I do know that you deserve more finality than that because you're everything. How you make me feel is everything and I just needed you to know that.”

His eyes were soft, looking at you as if it really were true, that you were everything. That you were the entire world, his entire world. Fully in that tiny spindle of time, it was like he was finally unveiling his entire self to you — every piece, sliver, and makeup of who he was was reflected in his eyes. No more walls, no more guarding or holding it all inside. There at that moment, it was the real Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan staring back at you. 

Curling your lips into a small smile, not enough to show your teeth, you could taste the tears that were slipping down from the inner corners of your eyes, finding a place within your smile line. With batted breath, you watched his eyes trace them to only find yours again. Relief filled him at that moment at the sight of them streaming down your face because they weren’t a sign of heartache, grief, or mortification of the situation. Most importantly they weren’t a reflection of fear or doubt about what was to come — it was as if you were completely content in your point in life right there with his hand wrapped around yours. No, what was inevitably laced within those pretty tears of yours was a complete abundance of love.

Neteyam felt as if that look had reached past his chest, taken the pieces of his heart graciously and purposefully, took them, and then, with the warmest touch, put them back together again. It was like Eywa’s plan for him wasn’t to become his father’s soldier or to save the Omatikaya from the invading enemies. His will, his purpose was to be here with you, like this. 

Leaning forward, you felt his palm connect with the side of your face, cupping your cheek like he had wanted to do so many times before. His thumb brushed along the glass of the oxygen mask and you couldn’t help but close your eyes and release more tears. Reaching up, your small hand circled around his wrist and held it there, able to feel his pulse under your fingertips. His eyes flickered to the touch before they found yours again and he suddenly couldn’t help himself any longer, not when he was finally able to see everything so clearly. 

He cleared his throat, voice overcome by emotions as a single tear of his own slipped from the corner of his eye and down into his upper lip. It was the first tear he can even remember touching his cheek in years — a tear that had and always been promised for you.

“I see you.” 

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise while the breath you had taken in felt like it had gotten lodged in your throat. More tears escaped from yours but your smile didn’t falter, not for one second, and you knew if that was the last thing you ever heard, you’d be happy. If it happened right there in his arms you could be okay with that because his words had somehow sanctified your soul. Sounding different, sounding so much more than when he had said it earlier that morning willed every bad thing away. In fact, it was everything, he was everything. 

You squeezed his wrist in your hand as you stared up at him, eyes gleaming like it was the first and last time they ever would, “I see you.” 

It was iridescent, the only way to utterly describe the sight. Mauve tendrils of neon light bathing skin in light as the forest's phosphorescent green pulsed beneath the people's bodies and feet. Pulsing to the heartbeat of their Great Mother. Pulsing in sync with their swaying bodies and stifled groans. It all reached deeply within their bones; her and her power. They cried to her, prayers and pleas kissing their tongues as the bioluminescence of the ground was prominent where their queues were connected.

Before Mo’at within the tendrils and the night sky, the atokirina was coated in white and floated in the air above in swarms. Thereupon the pulsing ground of the tree with bulging roots, two bodies lay wrapped within the confines of Eywa. The neon green phosphorescence rectifying as the Mother accepted the two bodies on her beloved soil. Evidently how the small fingerlike tresses of the ground lifted and wrapped around each body, grounding them completely. The same tresses that connected each person there to the entity of Eywa. 

“The Great Mother may choose to save all that she is in this body,” Mo’at spoke, watching the tresses grow across the avatar’s body eventually pulling the queue further into the ground creating a direct neural link to the back of your human neck. 

Eyes fluttered to a close, and you were finally relaxed, instead listening to the sound of your slowing heart. Norm stood in his avatar form near your human body with Neytiri as Jake sat on the other side next to the form they all hoped you would wake up in. His fingers brushed the strays hair out of its face and glanced over at your human body, taking note of the gentle rise and fall of your chest. He shared a look with Neytiri, a shared look of worry as both of Mo’at’s earlier words hung in their heads. She is very weak. It only brought flashbacks of Grace and filled him with the worst dread. That feeling was only exemplified when the ritual began. 

Everyone bathed in the green light, connected arms, all being interlinked as one with Eywa were able to feel her as well as each other. They slowly listened to Mo’at’s words chanting out in the air and repeated them in synchronism back at her, eyes closed focusing on the feeling channeling within one another.

“Ting mikyun ayoheru rutxe, ma Nawma Sa’nok (Hear us please, Great Mother).” 

Mo’at raised her arms high into the air, “Srung si poeru, ma Ewya (Eywa, help her).” 

“Pori tireati, munge mì nga (Take this spirit into you),” the crowd chanted back rolling their necks and their shoulders as one back and forth. 

No matter how many times Norm and Jake had witnessed the ritual, it still left them too stunned to speak; the overwhelming sensation of the voices in unison, the connection of the neurons through the ground, and the overriding presence of Eywa. It all was so much to process even more so while trying to pray to Eywa herself. To ask for forgiveness, for mercy, for her to return you even when you were weak and sick. Ask and beg that she give this one thing to all of those that loved you.

The phosphorescent green reflected back in his eyes as he glanced down from you to your human body now completely covered by tresses leaving barely any sliver of real skin showing. Mystified he watched as the atokirinas floated down from the sky and with the lightest touch surrounded your avatar body — the purest souls watching over you and serving as a positive sign of what he wished to believe.

Finally after what felt like hours of chanting and praying, and looking into the sky for Eywa, Jake felt his attention shoot up to Mo’at. He watched as she spun in circles, arms flailing in the air, eyes rolled to the back of her head, repeating the Great Mother’s name in constant tongues. She could feel her and she could hear her. He was focused then as Mo’at’s voice grew silent out of nowhere like a switch had been flipped. Her eyes returned to normal, her arms dropped to her sides, and her voice fell quiet.

Glancing down at the two bodies before her, she raised her hand to the rest of the people, her voice loud and commanding, “Lu hasey! (It is finished).”

The crowd became silent and all as one found themselves holding their breaths as Mo’at bent down examining your human body closely, her hands raised over your face. Jake held his too as Neytiri stepped forward, hands dropping to the mask around your face. With the uttermost delicacy, she reached forward and pulled it up and off, the sound from releasing the compaction was a gust of air. She laid it down on the ground next to your body as her eyes swept across your beautiful young face, relaxed, gone of any pain.

Her large hand cupped your face; like a mother, she leaned down and connected her soft lips to your forehead, right above your eyebrow. A maternal comfort you had never known or experienced, something Jake had mentioned often to her over the last half year. She let her lips linger a little longer, channeling all of her affection and devotion for you, offering it to Eywa. 

Leaning back her eyes opened again and her hand left your face with one final touch. She looked up to meet her husband's eyes and Jake felt the anxiety worsen in his stomach as she offered him an ensuring nod. He took a deep breath and looked down at the young avatar before him. He leaned over it, tracing every point of its face with his eyes, her ivory-kissed skin, and long eyelashes.

It was the same face of the young woman Jake had had the pleasure of knowing over the last six months. It was the young woman, he felt had become a part of his family. The face of the woman who had captured the attention of his children and left them astounded after seven years of knowing you. He looked down and saw the face of the woman who had managed to get his eldest son to fall in love. It was the face of you, the young girl who had been entirely and always enraptured by this planet and this world — a woman who was always meant to become a part of the Na’vi. 

His fingertips ghosted over your cheeks, the lightest of touches as the atokirinas could be seen all around you. Waiting and waiting, he felt his breath and hope leave him all at once as seconds passed and then a minute. He felt the time frame leaving, falling to a close, and his heart sunk into his stomach. Glancing up at Mo’at expectantly, disappointed, she urged him back down to you with a simple nod, asking him to wait a second longer.

Live or die?

One of us? Or one of them?

Letting his head tilt back down to you, Jake held his breath, his pointer finger brushing against the skin right below your eyebrow, delicately. His gaze zoned in on yours so seriously, he felt his throat well up waiting, begging Eywa. Just as his pinky pressed along your skin, the pair of eyes popped open, coating his sight in yellow and gold, flickered with specks of the lightest green he had ever seen.

one of us taglist is not working the best right now and I have over the limit of people asking to be tagged (it says it's fifty) so, for now, I am just not going to have a taglist because I can't tag everyone and it's taking a lot of work to figure out.

[yallemagne]

Then, too, Lucy, although she is so well, has lately taken to her old habit of walking in her sleep. Her mother has spoken to me about it, and we have decided that I am to lock the door of our room every night. Mrs. Westenra has got an idea that sleep-walkers always go out on roofs of houses and along the edges of cliffs and then get suddenly wakened and fall over with a despairing cry that echoes all over the place. Poor dear, she is naturally anxious about Lucy, and she tells me that her husband, Lucy's father, had the same habit; that he would get up in the night and dress himself and go out, if he were not stopped. Lucy is to be married in the autumn, and she is already planning out her dresses and how her house is to be arranged. I sympathise with her, for I do the same, only Jonathan and I will start in life in a very simple way, and shall have to try to make both ends meet. Mr. Holmwood—he is the Hon. Arthur Holmwood, only son of Lord Godalming—is coming up here very shortly—as soon as he can leave town, for his father is not very well, and I think dear Lucy is counting the moments till he comes. She wants to take him up to the seat on the churchyard cliff and show him the beauty of Whitby. I daresay it is the waiting which disturbs her; she will be all right when he arrives.

Lucy has inherited sleepwalking from her late father. She has sleepwalked before now, it is an old habit of hers. Dracula is nowhere near the coast of Whitby nor does he know who the fuck Lucy is.

THE SLEEPWALKING IS NOT CAUSED BY FUCKING DRACULA.

Stop, that's literally the excuse used by shitty adaptation writers who shorten the story down for the sake of convenience. And you may ask them, well, why is Dracula trying to make Lucy, a young lady he doesn't even know, sleepwalk to him from so far away, adaptation writers? THE ANSWER THEY ALWAYS GIVE IS "well, she's a slut, he can sense that she's a slut, he's trying to get at her to punish her for her transgressions and get to his pure reincarnated wife uwu."

IN THE BOOK SHE IS LITERALLY JUST A SLEEPWALKER IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH DRACULA RIGHT NOW.

Do you think that when she sleepwalked years ago as a child that was also Dracula??? Was her father sleepwalking to Dracula as well?? She is stressed about the future and her restlessness has caused her to start sleepwalking again. She dreams of showing Arthur the view from the churchyard, so she tries to go there in her sleep.

Please I swear to god when you lean into the whole "Dracula has a vendetta against Lucy and has made her a sleepwalker in order to hunt her down and punish her", it's victim-blaming and doesn't even make sense in the context of the novel.

sorry if this comes off aggressive, but I'm just like grrr I'm like rrr no fuck you Coppola get off my dick.

[marymary-diva17]

Avatar Masterlist

Hello and welcome to my avatar master list where you will be able to find some of the avatar (James Carmon) characters on here. From the first movie and to the second movie. These stories are brainstormed by me or request. So please enjoy these stories and have a good day.

fluff - ☁️ angst - 💢/ 😠 romance 🥰 sad - 😢 wholesome - 😊 requests - ✉️/ 📨

omcaticaya

Jake

Broken vows (2) (3)(4)😢 😡 ☁️ 📨

Broken hearted 😢 ☁️ 📨

my past and future (2) 😢 ☁️ 😊 ✉️

a mother will

my sister

neytirI

In love with her 😊 🥰 📨 ☁️

neteyam

Love at first sight ☁️ 🥰 😊

dance with me ☁️ 😊 🥰

Mute 😊 ☁️ 🥰 ✉️

yawne

born twice

Less favorite twin

sweethearts or yawne ☁️ 😊 🥰

the return of a son

in laws

healer of eywa

she has my heart and soul

loak

pair of disappointment (2) ☁️ 😢 😊

my son my boy (2)(3)😢 😠

heartbreak (2) (3)😢 😠

kiri

why are you awake little one

spider

My baby you are my baby ☁️ 😊

your are my son spider 😊 ☁️

talking about him ☁️ 😢 😊

Tuk

my precious daughter

a new friend means new adventures

sully family

Overprotective mom ☁️ 😊 ✉️

eywa bless child (2)📥 😢 ☁️ 😊

the ones left behind (2)😊 ☁️ 😢 😡 🥰

a good sister indeed

mother and kids ☁️ 😊

talking about the past ☁️ 😢 😊

mama boys 😊 ☁️

gift of music 📥 😊 ☁️

sugar

mad or disappointed

sneaking off to be with you

our human mom

The bond between brothers

Family is my fortress

wash day

Three babies = mischief

Human sick day

Tsu'tey

his dream walker ☁️ 😊 🥰

marry me 😊 🥰 ☁️

family 😊 ☁️

always me one of the people 😊 🥰 ☁️

she my wife my wife

matchmaker for love

Jake x y/n x neytiri

Overprotective mates ☁️ 😊 🥰

talking about the past 😢 😊 ☁️

our human wife

Guest in the forest

they love me when other couldn't

our human wife

Jake x tsu'tey x reader x neytiri

New life 📥 😊 ☁️ 🥰

Their wife or yawne 🥰 😊 ☁️

Wouldn't change anything

Jake x tsu'tey x neytiri

our family 😊 ☁️

falling in love

Jake x tonowali x reader x ronal x neytiri

possessive mates 📨 😊 🥰 ☁️

your all my babies my babies 🥰 ☁️ 😊

new addition to the family (2)😊 🥰 ☁️

how did you meet mama

metkayina

ronal

happiness 📥 😊 😞 ☁️

friendship last forever 📥 😊 ☁️

rotxo

our little family 📥 😊 ☁️ 😔

tonowari x y/n x ronal

soft hearted warrior 🥰 ✉️ 😊 ☁️

heart of a warrior 🥰 📥 😊 ☁️

the warrior ways 📥

the ways of eywa

the dreamwalker of the sea

when their eyes meet her

soft hearted warrior

Miles/ Recoms

where is she (2) (3)😠 😢 ☁️

the life they once had with you (2)

[mihari]

"...You painted your wings for this?"

"Well, yeah. We're celebrating pride, not mild confidence."

I'm a tad late, oh well. Happy pride month from your local pan duo.

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#22: The Trouble in 'Paradise' (1.03)

gif cred: @perryabbott

Rick's note in the getaway boat didn't get Michonne to leave...but it did get Dana Bethune to disappear 😋...

After breaking Michonne’s heart the night before in an attempt to save her, Rick is walking around in his CRM uniform and approaches Jadis with a salute. Jadis says, “State your business, soldier” and Rick informs her, “She’s gone. And you’re helping me make her stay gone.”

Jadis, who seems to be more aware than Rick rn that Michonne would never just leave him here, asks, “How is she gone?” Rick answers, “I made it look like she died trying. I know I needed to stay to get her away so I’m here.”

It’s interesting how Rick seems so resolved about this. Like I know the night of the getaway he had to be in his apartment a whole devastated mess about what he’s had to do to get Michonne home, but now in front of Jadis, he’s not going to show her how much it pained him to have to send her away and stay stuck here.

Also, Rick has been in sacrifice mode for literal years and so I think he’s just swallowed this Michonne sendoff as yet another sacrifice he has to make as the dead man who gets no personal wins that he’s been living as.

Jadis, who for once in her life is onto something says, “She actually left without you. I don’t believe that, Rick.” Lol I think Jadis really thinks Rick is pulling a fast one and lying about Michonne leaving but no, Rick has got himself so convinced that tricking her to leave was for the best and that Michonne would actually do it and leave. It's another indicator that it's clearly been some years and he's gotten a little hazy on remembering Michonne would never just leave him in the dead of night like that.

gif cred: @taiturner

Rick responds, “She didn’t know she was leaving without me.” And I was like - Rick, doesn’t that break your heart? Cuz it breaks mine. Knowing that the only reason Michonne ‘left’ was because she trusted his plan and thought he was coming with her. And now as far as he knows she’s had to mourn losing her husband yet again. And this time because he seemingly ‘wanted’ it that way.

That's gotta hurt Rick to think about, but again I think Rick is so laser-focused on how this is how it has to be that I don’t think he’s letting himself even fully process how hurtful what he did is to Michonne. 

Jadis asks if Rick still wants to kill her, calling back to their conversation earlier when she says, “You still see that?” Rick starts nearing his full petty form when he says, “Maybe I was just dreaming” suggesting killing her would be a dream lol. And then he calls back to Negan and Jadis' old saying, “People are a resource.”

He continues, “You’re part of this now.” and quotes Jadis saying, “‘Our fates are bound.” I know he’s basically like 'look, I need you to help sell this story of what happened to Dana and that is the only reason you get to live another day.'

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

Rick tells Jadis how he found a walker body close enough to Michonne's, put it in a consignment uniform, and tore its face and scalp off. He says the story is Dana fell, hit her head on the rocks and walkers got her. Then he gives Jadis some orders saying, “You just make sure you’re on the investigation as soon as they find out she’s missing.”

I was like buddy, they aren’t going to find out she’s missing but you are going to find out who your wife is after maybe getting a little hazy about Michonne Grimes. 😅

Jadis says she’ll “make sure to be on point when Dana goes gone” and also that her hands are clean if anything goes down. Then she says, “And if you do want to make your dream come true - kill me while we’re nose to nose. I already left them all the answers you don’t want them to have.” Don't tempt us with a good time now, Jadis.

Also, the way Rick stares at her and subtly rolls his eyes before walking away, it's like you can see the moment the hair insult pops in his head before he says it lol. 🤭

And then Jadis tries Richonne to capacity yet again when she has the audacity to tell Rick, “You say you did it for her. I’m sure that that is true but I wonder if it isn’t something else that's keeping you here. Again, I did save your life.” Disgusting. 😒 I know that serpent didn’t just try to imply that Rick might've sent Michonne away because he had the hots for the trash lady/his captor. She lost her damn mind with that comment. Truly. 🙃

gif cred: @jake-wheeler

Rick gives Jadis' suggestive comment no mind as he just brings it back to Michonne and says, “Well now you get to save hers.”

gif cred: @jake-wheeler

And then Petty Rick reaches his final form with this...

gif cred: @nerd4music

And the eyebrow-raise tho. 🤭 He knows he ate her up. Lol this moment had me dying and I love how this is Rick’s way of letting Jadis know that not even in her dreams would he be staying here cuz he wants her.

gif cred: @nerd4music

And the way Jadis reacts, it seems like Rick knew the right button to push cuz she smiles but looks offended as she walks away. And honestly, I’m here for Rick throwing shade because Jadis’ little slick comments and come-ons - that I don’t even think are rooted in actually liking him but more rooted in liking that it makes him uncomfortable - are harassment and so she needed to step all the way back. ✋🏽

gif cred: @taiturner

The second Jadis walks off, Rick gets a vibrating notification from Pearl. He comes over to the consignee area and stands at attention behind Pearl who's watching the consignees with her arms crossed and a scowl.

She turns to Rick and says, “You’re in real trouble now Sergeant Major'' and yes he is…just not with the CRM lol. 🙂

gif cred: @nat111love

The way Rick is looking at Pearl like 'what now?' not even realizing that who he’s in real trouble with is actually among the consignees. But he quickly realizes once he looks out and sees the baddest chick in the game on a walker-killing rampage.

gif cred: @nat111love

And then Rick's face lol. 🤭 I’m glad that now I can watch and laugh and kiki over all this cuz with my first watch, everything was just making me overwhelmed cuz both my poor babies are going through it. 🫠

But now it cracks me up to see Rick realize the only person who thought Michonne was out of here was him. Cuz she is very much still in this place and not even as Dana anymore but as Michonne Grimes herself. 😬

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne is clearly frustrated as she takes out these walkers and honestly, it really tracks with her character to be like this right now since killing walkers has always been one of the ways she processes emotions. Season 3 at Woodbury. Season 4 after the prison fell. Season 5 when out with Sasha and Rosita. And in season 9 during restless nights when she couldn’t sleep. So with so much to process after Rick’s note in the getaway boat, it makes sense she’d be going ham on the walkers during her shift. 

And again I declare my client innocent of all claims that she’s being ‘dumb’ or whatever people say for not playing the B role. Is she showing who she is right now? - yes. But she knows that and the thing is...she doesn’t care to hide rn. She’s seen the way this place tries to strip you of who you are. They stripped the strongest man she knows - Rick - of who he is and made him lose his mind to the point that he thought he could just send her away and she’d leave.

So I really think she’s just not having it. She’s over the CRM. This place doesn’t get to make her bury herself thus losing herself - a pain worse than death as Rick would attest.

gif cred: @nat111love

And also she’s allowed to let emotions get the best of her sometimes as she is understandably pissed. The man she loves and trusts most, the man she's sacrificed so much to find, just tried to abruptly send her away for good and basically told her that leaving him behind is the one way to show she loves him. That is a special kind of hurt that could stir up many blinding emotions.

Plus, it’s been what? over a decade of an apocalypse. It's really not crazy that she'd be a pro at taking out walkers by now. Even Eugene is a pro at walker-killing at this point. 🤷🏽‍♀️

Now, yes, the way she's killing them is too A-ish. But idk, the CRM should just be grateful she's doing this to walkers and not soldiers if you ask me lol.

As Michonne stays focused on taking out as many walkers as possible, consignees like Cleo and others stop to take notice and admire Michonne, impressed. And then Rick sorta nods like 'yep that’s Michonne 🙂'...but also 'yep that’s Michonne, not a Dana in sight.😟'

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne comes out of kill mode to catch her breath, paying no mind to the other consignees' oohs and ahhs, just like Rick when he broke the kill record. And then she looks up and sees Rick and gives him a look that shows she is not going to be playing around with this man.

gif cred: @nat111love

Pearl notes how Michonne said during intake that she was looking for safety in numbers and that helped her make her case. And then she says, “Thing is, she doesn’t look like someone who relies on others for safety.” And one; can I just reiterate that I love that we have a show where Richonne drives every scene of the plot. It’s great. 🤩

Also, I like the irony of this line because Pearl is actually looking at the only man Michonne does look to for safety.

As Pearl stares at Rick, clearly very hesitant about this whole Dana situation, Rick just stays quiet. Pearl walks away and then Rick looks out and sees Michonne is the last one standing and staring Rick down in a way that would have anybody shaking in their boots before she just walks away.

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne's look said, 'that's right, Rick...

Then I really love the pan up to the 'Grimes 68' on the wall. It implies that the kill record has just been broken and while they have to change the number now, they don’t have to change the last name.

And of course, the Grimes are the ones to set new records up in this place. The only person who could beat Rick’s years-long record is his wife. 

gif cred: @chaoticroad

So then Michonne is walking and she hears Rick say, “Keep walking” and I always smile seeing how she hears that and immediately stops walking lol. It just instantly tells you the energy of how this exchange is about to go.

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

Rick stands behind her in his CRM helmet and gear and the visual again feels like a reminder that Michonne found Sergeant Major Grimes but not her Rick just yet.

Rick says, “Ahead and to the right. We can talk.” And Michonne stands there for a moment, clearly fed up. I know she’s not exactly itching to go where Rick tells her after his recent behavior.

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

After stopping for a sec, Michonne sorta rolls her eyes before heading to the right to 'talk' - even tho her communication when they're alone won’t require any words.

And the way Rick pauses for a moment as she struts off without even looking at him...I know he’s nervous about this chat. Appreciating her feisty walk and also nervous lol. 😅

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

So then when they finally have some privacy it low key looks like Rick is getting in Michonne's personal space and idk if it’s to be on some lovey timing or some stern ‘you were supposed to go’ timing. I’ll never know because Michonne sets the tone immediately when she rips Rick’s helmet off and throws it. I'm quite here for it tbh. 😊

gif cred: @figmentof

Like I know Michonne is so sick and tired of the CRM, and that helmet covering her man’s face is just another reminder that they have a hold on him. That her Rick is buried under the mask of the CRM.

And the way Michonne ripped off the helmet you can tell she wants to go ham on anyone who is keeping her Rick away from her including Sergeant Major Grimes himself.

She does the helmet rip-off smooth too and it quickly lets Rick know just how upset she is.

The move seems to take Rick very much off guard as he steps back and just breathes and stares at her for a while, knowing Michonne hasn’t had this type of energy with him since like season 3. Again, since he'd been so convinced that sending her away like that was for the best and an act of love, he wasn't thinking about how extremely hurtful it was to her too...But he knows now.

Also, I think because he’s sorta out of practice in remembering his wife does not play he thought maybe he was going to take over in this conversation and tell her how things gotta be but that's not how you roll up on Michonne Grimes.

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

And so instead Rick takes a different approach by trying to explain himself. 

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

Rick shares, “All these years, the only way I wasn’t killed was one man saving my life over and over.” And Michonne looks at him just like 'this better be good.'

Rick says, “The only way you get away is if someone is here making sure.” Then it makes me so sad to hear the vulnerability and defeatedness in his voice as he says, “It’s taken me years to know I can’t go anymore. I asked for help, I didn’t get it.” 😢

That part always gets me because he’s saying he tried to do this himself and then he even tried to get help from others but was ultimately left hanging. Even tho I was like Rick, you did get it, because the one woman who can most help you is here and you’re looking at her right now.

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

Rick tries to help Michonne see, “To get away, you need someone on the inside” and then I hear those more tender Richonne tones when Rick says, “I’m that for you.”

It’s hard because you can tell he thinks this is a good thing he’s doing for her but Michonne is understandably looking at him like, 'How can you just decide that without me?' Rick has been so focused on Michonne being his choice that he hasn’t exactly stopped to consider what her choice is in all this. And again, her choice is him too.

Often people who love really hard have a hard time grasping that others can love them just as deeply. So while every choice Rick makes is because his wife is his choice, he’ll have to see that he and their family is Michonne’s choice and she too will do anything for him and them.

Plus, Rick really forgot that he and Michonne are the same which means they aren’t letting anyone choose anything for them including Rick trying to choose when and how Michonne leaves this place. She’s been through way too much to just let him choose that for her.

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

So I already thought Rick’s last part of his letter was problematic but then Sergeant Major wants to say it all over again to her face which was just not the move. 🤦🏽‍♀️

He looks at Michonne with his eyes serious and pained as he says, “I said that if you loved me…you’d go.” And eye personally said Rick, let's not say that ever again. One time was already too much. 🙃

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not losing sight of the fact that Rick is saying this from a place of immense trauma and not grasping that he is as valued by Michonne as she is to him so she would never just leave him here just like he would never have just left her here. But still, this is Rick almost trying to put Michonne’s love in question in a manipulative way.

But also the way he says it, it just reminded me that Rick has not been on the receiving end of love for almost a decade so he’s seeming to forget that Richonne’s love means they don’t split up. Throughout TOWL, I think Rick and Michonne both had to get reacquainted with how much the other loves them and is loyal to them.

gif cred: @isisnicole

So then Michonne reminds us all that she always be knowing what to say - and sometimes with no words needed to say it as she gives Rick a very expressive silent reaction. And I like the choice, that I believe I heard Danai was behind, to have Michonne not say anything in the scene. It makes it all the more impactful especially because Richonne really can have full-blown conversations with each other without uttering a word.

And when Rick pulls this line yet again Michonne tilts her head and just smiles looking so pretty and still peeved because she’s like 'of course I love you, you sweet sweet fool.'

In fact, it’s because she loves him so much that she’s even standing here right now. I know for Michonne hearing Rick say this again has to be more salt in the wound because she’s gone through so much in the name of her love for him and their family and so for him to essentially suggest if she really loved him she would have left was just so not it. 😪

gif cred: @perryabbott

The way Michonne responds I feel like a whole lot is swirling through her head. Like I wonder if she’s thinking what I was thinking in this moment which is - Rick, if she loved you, she’d have your baby. If she loved you she’d spend the last eight years so committed to you that no man replaced you in her or your children’s life.

If she loved you, she’d learn that you're alive and sacrifice time with her kids, getting attacked by the CRM, recovering for a year, and being plopped into the Civic Republic's consignment because her husband told her it’s the only way, just to find you again. Since she loves you she’s standing in front of you right now and not halfway to Alexandria.

Rick’s previous relationships saw him being someone who poured more into others than they did to him. And in a way he tried to start doing that with Michonne, thinking it’d be fine if he just poured into and protected her while he’s left out to dry…but she had to remind him they are far too equal in their outpouring of love and commitment for him to not get love and protection back.

gif cred: @nat111love

I love how when Michonne looks at him with that layered smile that says so much, she and Rick proceed to have a whole conversation with just their eyes. Like Michonne smiles, clearly hurt and frustrated, and then Rick stares at her and blinks and whatever she says with her eyes seems to rock Rick. Because then he looks at her and just steps back shaken.

But Michonne actually honors Rick’s wishes here because he said 'If you love me, you’ll go' and she’s like 'welp since I do love you let me go ahead and excuse myself right now and go instead of going off.' And her quietly composed approach and walk-off have Rick really shook to his core. The man looks like he legit wants to puke over having his wife be mad at him and knowing he has to go back to the drawing board to figure out how to get her back home alive.

gif cred: @isisnicole

Michonne has always had such an effect on Rick because just her staying quiet and composed and walking away had Rick doubled over with his eyes wide like he was socked in the stomach or something.

Y’all, this is also further proof that they’re magnets because when they’re off-kilter and walking away from each other like this it has them feeling straight-up ill. 

This was a really well-done scene and Rick really does embody the viral tweet “My wife is mad at me. I hope I die.” because he looks like Michonne being upset with him is a worse pain than chopping off his own hand.

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

It’s interesting seeing Rick and Michonne at the beginning of one of their biggest conflicts. And they truly still feel so married even in the way they approach this conflict. Like yes, they’re at odds but you know neither of them is just giving up on the other. Deep love is still at the foundation of all of this.

So while Michonne doesn’t say anything verbally to Rick in this scene - saving it for another time when she can really let it out - she does have someone she wants to open up to. And that’s her daughter, Judith. 🥲

And as Michonne proceeds to wonder if Rick has nearly become too far gone - she ends up having the exact encounter she needs to be reminded of the bigger 'picture.' 😌🤳

[pomegranate-red]

After the Lights Go Out

Leon Kennedy x Reader

Warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, reader is dead, depression, alcoholism, male masturbation, and suicide. Maybe Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

A/N: If you’re struggling with your mental health, please reach out for professional health. Remember it is always darkest before dawn. MIDNI

Title from After the Lights Go Out by The Walker Brothers.

Leon was surprised he could even get hard anymore, with all the cheap alcohol he’s put in his body, not only should he be impotent, but also blind. Yet life always had new ways of surprising him. God he hated surprises, he didn’t always hate them but he did now that you were gone.

All he thinks of is of those moments when you’d surprise him coming home from a mission, you were just as corny as him. Red rose petals making a path towards the bed in which he rots now, some candles with a tasteful scent that he loved, he tried buying them when you were gone at first, but the scent makes him gag now. He finds his hand palming the annoyingly painful erection that throbs in his boxers. He disgusts himself.

She won’t say it, but he knows it, Claire is tired of his bullshit. She tried at first, god knows she tried, but a part of him died when you were gone, the part that prompted him to get out of bed every morning, wash his teeth, the part that helped him enjoy the few pleasures he could enjoy in life thanks to his line of work, he doesn't even shower now. You took that with you. He remembers the last time he saw you, god you were so beautiful, and just the thought of you makes his cock jump, he groans, he doesn’t know what he’s feeling, but… does he ever? He tries not to think of those last moments and of your smile.

He thinks of the times you’d have sex on the telephone, which was more often than he’d like, hearing you moan and whimper, probably the squelches of your cunt as your fingers digged as deep as they could, desperately pressing into your own g-spot, trying to replicate the pleasure he used to give you. To him every form of intimacy with you was heaven, your body his temple and your pussy his altar, he could’ve worshipped you for hours on end, and he’d never get tired of the taste, your moans, or the way you’d pull at his hair and beg for him to stop, out of overstimulation. “Come on baby, you can give me one more, can’t you?”

He’s not sure how, or when but he’s crying, it had been a few weeks since the las time he could cry, another surprise. He is full of self hatred, he thinks he always was, except this time it is painful just how much disgust he can feel towards himself. You would have been sad if you saw him, now he’s ashamed too, fantastic. But what was he to do? You were his sanity, you were his whole world, and you took all his light with you, all his dreams. He wanted to have a family, highly unlikely, since you both worked putting your lifes in danger for a government that pretended too give a fuck. Ah, the mere thought makes his tip drip precum and he groans at the thought of his wife all pregnant, round and swollen with his seed, he was getting desperate.

He whines, as he squeezes the base of his aching cock, he can’t help it, the image of your tits bouncing on his face comes to his mind and your name falls from his chapped lips in the same way his tears roll down his face, he doesn’t really notice when but he’s stroking. He thinks of the moans that would slip from your lips into his own and how he greedily looked for more, rutting into his fist the way he would rut into your pussy desperately, except his fist doesn’t suck him in the way your walls did. His balls contract and with a pathetic, strangled moan (or was it a sob?) he spills all over his abdomen and fist all the seed he should’ve shot inside you. He doesn’t even wipe himself, filthy as he is, he curls up on his bed, hugging your pillow, which no longer smelled like you, more like a mix of stale tears, cum, sweat and his own body odour, all traces of you gone. He throws it, he could rip his hair out. His phone rings, Chris, bless him, probably checking up on him, Leon ignores it, he curls up and cries.

He doesn’t know how many hours go by, but it looks late. He gets up and eyes your gun on your nightstand, he sighs and goes down to the kitchen, and fixes himself another drink, the whiskey’s cheap, and it burns. It’s not that he can’t afford any better, he just doesn’t drink to enjoy it, he downs the cheap whiskey and grimaces a little, the landline’s ringing, but again he ignores it. He thinks back to that one mission two months ago. He had a bad feeling, that maybe you shouldn’t have gone, and he told you, but you were headstrong, stubborn, and so you went anyway “it’s just an extraction” you’d said, yeah right. Things were going amazingly, almost no B.O.Ws, the few you did find, were dispatched swiftly. He loved how quick you were to put them out of their misery, “they were people once too, they deserve it…” you’d tell him often, you were a compassionate soul, he never would understand what a person like you was doing being an agent. You were almost done, you almost had him, but the terrorist had a shotgun and that shot was for Leon, if you hadn’t pushed him out the way, he would’ve died, but instead he just watched your head burst open, your brains covering his face. It was as if a switch flipped in his mind, and when he came to, his fists were bloody and a picasso would’ve looked more like a normal face than the man’s face, he must have smashed every bone in his face. But no amount of vengeance would bring you back, he had some of the remains of your brain in his hair and face.

He wants to puke, so he does, he throws up all over himself, he looks at his shirt, stained with cum and puke, and sighs. He downs another drink and then another, he goes back to his room, your room, 45 missed calls, Claire and Chris, but Leon can’t bring himself to care at all. He goes up to your nightstand and grabs your gun, it’s cold and heavy, he eyes it, you would keep it in pristine conditions, now it is dusty, he places the barrel in his mouth, he closes his eyes, he somehow likes imagining it is you who threatens him. He loves you so damn much he wouldn’t even try to persuade you, he’d close his eyes and let you decide if his brains stayed in or out.

He takes the gun out of his mouth and sits on the bed, his back to the headboard, his phone rings again and in an impulse he shoots it. He sits there in silence after the loud shot, and sighs, what the fucking hell, he cocks the gun again and places it in his mouth again, going as deep as he can without gagging, had he been in another situation he’d make a joke, but you’d taken his humour with you. In those moments he wonders if he’d go to heaven with you, because there’s no way you’d be anywhere else, his angel. He wonders if he deserves heaven, and he knows he doesn’t, but maybe god would let him be with you.

Those are the last thoughts going through his head before he pulls the trigger, leaving a mess on the wall for Chris and Claire to find the next day.

[dixons-sunshine]

Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU Headcannons Part 4 | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Word count: 625.

A/n: Okay, so here's some more of my own personal headcannons for this au because I have nothing else to post lol. However, these focus more on the canon timeline, because I want to write more for this au in the show's events. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy!

★ When the quarry camp got overrun with walkers, Daryl couldn't find you at first.

★ His whole world shattered for a moment when he called for you but you didn't answer him. He thought that the walkers had gotten you, and he was ready to kill anyone and anything in his path.

★ However, you finally called out to him. When you did, he ran to you and practically crushed your body to him.

★ He had just lost his brother. He couldn't handle losing you, too.

★ He held you that entire night. He wouldn't let you go.

★ When everyone got to the CDC, Daryl was relieved. Not only were you safe, but there was a doctor that could help deliver the baby.

★ He spent the night (while very slightly intoxicated) cuddled up on your stomach. Before he fell asleep, he whispered sweet nothings to your baby, his baby, as well as saying an endless amount of “I love you's” to you.

★ Yeah, that dream of his got ruined quickly. You think he was pissed at Jenner in the show? Multiply that by a hundred when his wife and unborn child are in danger. The only reason Jenner didn't get a beating was because you were clinging to him and trying to calm him down.

★ When those doors opened, he practically dragged you out of there. The others were still stumbling around, but the two of you were running for those doors upstairs the minute Jenner opened the doors.

★ When the horde on the highway passed and everyone was looking for Sophia, you were right by his side. He wanted you to stay by the RV but with T-Dog injured and him not fully trusting only Dale to keep you safe, he brought you along.

★ Not without a gun, though. He trusted your shooting skills. The two of you had taken up shooting practice with guns for hunting back in the day, so he felt comfortable enough with letting you carry a gun.

★ It did take a lot of threatening convincing for Shane to give in, but Daryl wouldn't let up.

★ When the farm finally came along, your escapades were put on a temporary halt.

★ Not because he didn't trust you to help look for Sophia, but because with the safety the farm provided and with a doctor available, it was time to properly start thinking of the baby.

★ Hershel gave the two of you a few baby books to read, and Daryl stayed up late into the night while you slept, reading and preparing himself for everything.

★ He did get excited when he learnt that having sex didn't hurt the baby, but he would never force you into that. It was just nice knowing that if you wanted to, he could give you what you wanted without having to worry about hurting the baby.

★ You did want it, more easily aroused than ever before because of your hormones, but there was a time and place for that—Hershel's farm while sleeping in a tent near everyone wasn't the time nor place for that.

★ Daryl really wanted the farm to work out. Unlike in the show, he'd be on Rick's side with wanting to stay. It was the safest option for you and your unborn baby, and he'd be damned if someone (Shane) ruined everything.

★ When Daryl got shot, he may or may not have been proud of you when news of you punching Andrea circled back to him.

★ He did get a proper scolding from you for scaring you like that, though.

★ He wasn't mad because he understood, and when he saw your tears, he brought you into his arms, despite the pain in his body.

★ You were the only one who was able to reach out to him when everyone found out that Sophia was dead.

★ Seeing walker Sophia instilled a new yet old fear in him—what if he failed your baby? What if your baby died because he couldn't protect them? What if you died because he couldn't protect you?

★ It took a lot of comforting to calm him down. You knew that you wouldn't be able to erase his fear, but you could be there for him and reassure him to the best of your abilities.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[westidia]

I’m still highly upset that we never got to see Carl at his full potential

and he was fine as hell…the glow up that was happening before our eyes…😔 fuck them producers (fyi he is older than me)

Just thinking about all the shit we could’ve see. Carl do, all the moments he could’ve had with Judith, his baby brother RJ 😭

Carl following his fathers steps, having a fine, badass gorgeous black wife ugh a girl can dream 😔

(word on the street the reason why he was killed off was because he became an adult and obv wanted adult pay…mind you basically the whole cast were adults…)

Just don’t sit right with me

we really have no bad ass scenes of him just going off on humans or walkers (like Rick when he bit that man’s neck)

wasted potential I hate.

[atarathegreat]

ZombieLand Tokyo Revengers

ft: Takemichi Hanagaki, Ken Ryuguji, Izana Kurokawa, Manjiro Sano

Because when the end of the world takes your lover from you, what else can you do but search for her endlessly?

"I just need help!" Takemichi yelled at the men on top of the makeshift gates. Cars, trucks, even porches were used to create the effective barrier. "Look!" He held up a photo, "I just need help finding this woman!"

The men laughed at him and told him they weren't some search and rescue team. Of course they'd say that, Takemichi thought, why should they risk their lives to help solve my problem? He'd never been in lower spirits and it made him want to curl up and die. His wife, his beautiful wife, was gone. Taken and never returned by the stupid circumstances they found themselves in. The end of the world seems so impossible until you're staring down the maw of another human who's brainless and wants to eat yours.

Months passed, the cold weather setting in and making his hope of finding you shrivel up. Japan was huge, but maybe word could still get around, maybe you'd still come back to him. Or at the very least he could find your corpse wandering around searching for an arm to gnaw on. Hell, maybe he'd even let you take him out. That didn't sound like such a bad way to go. Lost in his thoughts, Takemichi didn't notice the group of survivors circling him in the department store. Or maybe he had? He couldn't tell anymore, all he wanted was his wife.

"Hey." He jolted at the sudden hand on his chest, "Our boss wants you."

Takemichi scoffed out a laugh, walking around they guy while saying something about minding his own business and not pissing anyone off. "Seriously?" Another person came from the shadows, gun to his face, "You're coming with us."

"I've had more guns pointed at me than I care for." Takemichi slumped and let his body hit the floor, "If your boss wants me that badly, drag me."

He hadn't expected them to, but they grabbed his arms and legs and carried him through the infested city. For once, Hanagaki was able to rest and sleep. He dreamed of finally finding her and holding her, crying into her lap as he always had before when it got to be too much. He missed her gentle hold and the way she just knew how to comfort him. As the two struggled to carry him up the stairs into another building, he heard snickering.

"Michi, get up! Stop making them carry you!" There she was, sitting amongst a bigger group of people and children. He didn't care who he fell over, screaming apologies as he crashed into her. She laughed as he stumbled, holding him close as he wrapped around her like a child, crying into her oversized coat. "A winter coat, anyone." She called, her hands rubbing at him to heat up his body, "It's getting colder, Michi. Haven't you tried to keep warm?"

Group after group, camp after camp, and yet Kenny couldn't find her anywhere. He kept his search to himself, he didn't need people feeling bad for him if it turned up that she was dead. Mitsuya knew, of course, because Kenny couldn't just let his brother deal with this shit alone, especially when his sisters were with him.

"She's around somewhere." Kenny sighed, downing a beer they'd managed to scavenge. He hadn't wanted to search the liquor store, but they were running out of options anymore. "If she's alive, she's searching for us, right?" He looked to his friend for assurance. Kenny needed for her to be looking for him, too. He needed to know that she was trying to get back to him. Mitsuya patted him on the back, but said nothing. Last time he tried to comfort his friend it ended in them fist fighting and attracting the attention of a local camp. A camp that, from what they heard, was ruthless and wouldn't hesitate to use them as walker bait.

Kenny looked around the small, four person squad he was leading around. Two women and Mitsuya, all depending on him and he was more worried about finding someone that might be dead. He sighed again, his chest feeling tighter as he cracked open another lukewarm beer.

"Hands!"

Luna and Mana hit the ground as Mitsuya and Kenny stood to aim their own weapons at the intruders. A feeling of pride filled Kenny as he realized the cohesion of his miniscule legion. "Who's there?" Mitsuya called, his eyes trained on the shadows.

"Guns down!" Another yell came from behind them, "I said weapons down! I won't have any qualms shooting any of you!"

Kenny's wife stepped from the shadows and around them all with a gun trained ahead, a gun that was definitely too big for her, "Down, damn it! Lower them!"

"Captain-"

"Down!" She screamed and the sound of many, many weapons hitting the ground followed before she turned to them again, "I found you."

Izana was an unbothered man on the surface, but Kakucho knew his friend was slowly losing it. He was more reckless, less attentive, and overall a danger to the survival of their group as a whole. More than once had the Haitani brothers debated Izana's ability to lead them safely. It wasn't something Kakucho was proud of, but he was also second guessing it. How were they to survive in this hell if the one leading them didn't seem to care anymore?

He didn't know, but he wouldn't stop following.

"She's been here, Kakucho." Izana smiled, his sharp canines showing dangerously in the dim fire light, "I know it sounds stupid, but she's been here. Don't you see how everything is wiped clean? Nothing of use left? She's resourceful."

"Or it's a busy area and other survivors have stripped this bitch clean." Shion scoffed, "Are you really staking our survival on the idea of finding a woman when she's probably dead?"

Kakucho should've broken up the fight, he should've helped Izana and kept him from injuring Shion. Should've, could've, would've. "Izana," He started, "maybe we should focus on ourselves for a while?"

That was almost two weeks ago. None of them had seen Izana since. Until there was a commotion too close to their current shelter and they all hurried to help Izana. Forty against one wasn't fair and they weren't gong to let their friend get killed. Izana was holding his own well enough, but not good enough to beat off the whole town that was surrounding him. And Kakucho was great at using his gun as a club.

"Easy, Kaku!" That voice, could it be. It was! She was blocking his hit, glaring at him as if he had started this fight, "Help me calm Iza down!"

"Just go to him and he'll be fine!" Kakucho yelled, pointing to where Izana was laughing like a mad man and gaining the attention of walkers, "Do it fast or we're all puppy chow!"

How could he have lost her? How had she managed to get so far away from him that he couldn't even whistle and her whistle back? It was getting to Manjiro that he didn't have her at his side while he walked. He stayed holed up in his brothers old shop, waiting for her to come back. That was the deal if they ever got separated, they would meet back at S.S. Motors. It wasn't hard, not by a long shot, but it had been forever and she still wasn't back.

He'd never thought he could miss the nagging and the way she clung to him, but he did. Manjiro would give anything for her to be running up to him after a decent race, her hug suffocating him in his racing jumper even if he was far too sweaty underneath. God, he'd let her smother him to death if only she was right there with him.

"Don't you dare!" Manjiro remembered yelling at her as she went to open a door, "There's a bell on the door, you'll wake anything up that's in there!"

He'd take all that aggravation and fear if only it meant she was with him. Manjiro missed her so damn much. Every little sound was her coming back to him, so he stopped responding to them. He didn't move when his mind created the sound of the door opening, but he jerked around when a body pressed up against his.

"S'just me, Manji." Her voice was tired, hoarse, "Rest, yeah? We'll eat in the morning."