#i did not realise the end would be so many battles one after the other i was worried for a hot second but it was fine

[aotoreiki]

WOOHOO I FINALLY got the little push to reach the Colosseum credits roll!!! Look at my hardworking children

It's a fun game.

[pseudowho]

The Silent Stars Go By

On the night of October 31st, Nanami Kento feels his death approaching. Knowing you are on the battlefield with him, and knowing he cannot die without showing you how he feels, he seeks you out...and subverts destiny.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, "last night on Earth" smut, truly desperate, frantic, semi-public, Shibuya ending rewrite

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Nanami Kento knew he was to die, on October 31st.

He was no arithmancer. A pragmatist at heart with a mathematical streak, he had, however, carried his barely living friend to safety, found the bodies of many others, punched a young man to death, and lived to tell the tale. The numbers divined great danger ahead, and, by the time a pink-feathered songbird had sung the perish song of Satoru Gojo, Kento could not deny the maths.

Kento could suddenly see no distant future for himself, as he once could. And yet between then, and now, there was one stark similarity; what future Nanami Kento did see, contained only you.

Behind his eyes flashed a montage of memory-- of midnight laughter-filled dinners at the Konbi. Of shielding you in battle, and you shielding him in return. Of you sitting on his lap, stitching his wounds with utmost care, before your reverse-cursed technique had fully developed. Of falling in love with you, and denying himself joy for believing he may give you none.

Being around you was agony. Being away from you was worse.

"I'll be heading underground," he had intoned to Nitta and Nobara, taking in their girlish features for the last time with a stab through his belly, "after I catch up with someone. Stay safe. Don't sacrifice yourself."

He was a hypocrite. He knew this. He would walk to the gallows, proud, if only he could take you in his arms and cry his love for you, first.

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Looking out over the city, having heard Yuuji's cries for 'Nanamin' only a few minutes earlier, you did not know you were being desperately searched for by Kento. You had determined yourself to find and follow Yuuji, the boy without protection.

The night breeze whipped at you, unhindered by walls and trees, on the roof of one of Shibuya's tallest buildings. Turning to leave, you felt a familiar warmth approaching. The man you loved opened the stairwell door, squeaking on its pivot.

Missing his suit jacket and tie, with his sleeves rolled up, he thrummed with raw, uncontained power. Something feverish stormed within his eyes as he looked to you. His steps were slow, and considered. The quiet calm of his voice was deliberate, soft.

"Kento, what...what are you doing here? Is that blood? Oh god, you're bleeding-- let me heal you--"

"Stop. It isn't mine. Just listen for a moment."

"Isn't yours? Then one of the others? We should get them to Shoko--"

"--I need you to listen, now--"

"--we haven't got any time--"

"I love you." The air fell still; a puff of blossom in suspended animation. You had not realised you were holding your breath until Kento's steps caught up to you, and his hands grasped yours. A melancholic certainty rolled off him. Flicks of blond fell over his forehead, that fervour still gripping him; gripping you.

"I love you. You are the purest truth I know. The warmest light. Anything I am, and anything I could have been, is at your mercy, and always has been."

The gut-churning adrenaline you had felt for the fever-pitch of battle was suppressible, before Kento's impassioned promise. That dam broke inside you, and the terror and adoration and injustice heaved out of you in one great sob. You needed his body flush to yours. Public decency took a back seat. So many years of restraint and doubt slid away.

You looped your arms around Kento's neck, one hand grasping his shoulders, and the other sinking into the back of his hair. Kento almost broke, himself, but couldn't; not yet. He had to show you. Needed to show you.

You felt him pull your head away from his shoulder, and you resisted, until his fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head. You were nose to nose. You could feel his heart booming in his chest, fresh from a fight you had not witnessed.

"If this is my last chance," Kento whispered, his nose stroking yours, "will you let me take it?"

"...what...what do you know...that I don't? Kento--"

"Please." Kento growled, his teeth gritted. You felt the twitching contractions of his belly, his hardening cock pressing against you. You couldn't resist his need to control this, and take what he needed, even if you wanted to. Your breaths ached in your chest. Silent, glossy-eyed, you nodded.

Kento broke, possessing your lips in one shuddering kiss. His hands and body squeezed at your softly yielding hips, all-consuming, trying to overfill himself with any scrap of you he could take. He dominated the kiss completely, selflessly, as thoughtlessly altruistic as he had always been. He groaned, panting through the taste of you, his tongue sliding against yours. His cock wept inside his boxers-- it was all too much too much but not enough--

You mewled, little hands gripping onto his collar, sending thunder to Kento's core. Kento pulled away, cursing, feeling the need to know the scars that pleasure etched upon your skin. You were scorched by his touch, too pliable now to do anything but bend to his insistence.

In blood and brutality you sought each other, beacons in the night with stars as your witness. They looked on, disinterested, as if fate held any regard for the lives of mortals, over gods.

With time as his final remaining enemy, Kento pulled you to his lap, sitting with his back against the low wall overlooking the city. He knew for whom the bell tolled. He would see his duty done before the final chime, and he stared into you in your entirety. Though neither a painting nor an ivory box, he handled you with kid gloves.

You straddled his lap, unbuttoning his shirt, and he whispered, groaning and bucking up against your clothed sex as he watched your nimble fingers press his opened shirt apart. Running your hands in reverence down his bared chest and belly, he could not have loved you more than when he saw his own desperation reflected back at him.

In another life-- in any other world-- I--

He lifted you, enough for you to kick your jeans and underwear off, his teeth bared to feel your core press against his aching cock. He spoke through your kisses, a fractured sentence punctuated by his apologies.

"I didn't-- didn't prepare-- no protection-- I can't-- can't stop-- please don't make me stop." He begged, reaching down to hook his cock out. You silenced him with one hand wrapped around his rigid length, and Kento stilled with a hiss.

--take you to dinner first, I'd show you the world-- fill you with its beauty before I fill you with mine--

"Don't care--" You insisted against his neck, "--don't care...need to feel you." Kento almost sobbed with relief to feel you hold him, stroking the head of his cock between your glistening folds. You let his cockhead and slit catch over your clit, shivering, intoxicated by the way he watched you with one hand splayed across your belly, the other on your hip, and blown pupils. He bucked his hips, needy, full of baleful possession.

--and we'd have a Victorian glasshouse with a garden you'd love-- and you'd plant wildflowers while I do the laundry--

Grasping your hips with a snarl as you stroked his cockhead down, Kento impaled you downwards onto him, the moment his cock notched at your entrance. You squeaked, pussy clenching with the sudden blissful invasion, your squirming making you sink lower. Kento felt a telltale throb of impending orgasm in his belly, and he was certain if you clenched one more time--

Your pussy full to the brim, you instinctively bucked downwards. Feeling Kento belly-deep, his trembling fingers dropped to your clit, and you felt Kento's abs twitching beneath your splayed hands. Feeling two clever fingers bracketing your clit and rolling from side to side, you squeezed him, milking his cock and locking him inside you.

--all the late nights and early mornings and train rides and arguments in sickness and health for richer for poorer--

"--love you-- I love you too." You sobbed into his chest, loose and warm against him. Kento saw stars, coming with a shout, thick ropes of cum spurting into you. Looking up at the euphoric agony on his face, and his fingertips bruising your ass as they pinned you down around him, satisfied you spiritually, in a way so alien to you.

You rolled your hips, drinking down every part of him. The long, powerful contractions of his cock inside you, his stilted low moans, his gasps of pleasure as your tight gloved heat continued to stroke him. Starved for him, desperate for more, you rode Kento to frantic overstimulation.

--so unfair this is so unfair, die for you like you'd die for me like I'd die for you like you'd die for me--

You realised with a happy squirm that he hadn't yet removed his glasses or harness. With his shirt trapped against his shoulders, and his lens steamed, fucking upwards and thrashing his head from side to side beneath you, you couldn't stop yourself. You felt the fullness of his creamy load still plugged deeply inside you, and pushed hard against him. Kento cursed, paralyzing you with a hushed roar of agony, and a hand grasping your throat.

"--asked you to make love to me-- not kill me-- but shit, if this is how we go, just take me with you-- take me with you--"

His fingers had never left your clit, now rolling it insistently, until you were the one wriggling and desperate. Still being stuffed with his cock and cum made your pleasure three-dimensional, and Kento's half-hard length began to stir to life again, still high off the adrenaline of punching a man to death. He growled at you with gritted teeth.

"--beautiful...good girl...not done with you yet...shit, keep it in, keep it all in...take me with you...please--"

With half lidded eyes, you grasped Kento's forearm. His hand still braced you with exquisite tenderness around the throat, a necklace instead of a noose. His second hand worked frantically against your clit while you moaned and begged above him, still speared on his cock, feeling him lengthen and thicken again inside you. You whimpered and keened, and Kento committed you to memory, just like this. He would close his eyes in his final moment, and see you, breaking like spun sugar above him, no sweeter sound than his name on your lips.

--bake for you on Sundays, and the bread would always burn, because we'll be too busy--

Kento continued stroking you, pressing kisses onto your forehead as he guided you down from your high. Cautiously starting to roll his hips up again, he moaned at the slick sucks of his cock sliding through his cum and yours. Unthreading his shirt through his harness, Kento threw it to the ground, before lying you down on top of it.

Otherwise fully dressed, with dried stains of blood rusted over his chest and back, Kento bore over you like a vengeful god. Here to take his spoils, he still handled you like glass, resting your head on one of his planted forearms, with a hand under the small of your back to protect you from the floor.

"...I've wanted you for so long-- you don't even know--"

"I knew." Kento faltered. His anguish at leaving you for certain death sharpened, with the sudden knowledge of past chances untaken. His heart clenched, aching down his arms, steeling himself. He couldn't help but lean into your hand, cupping his jaw.

Nuzzling his nose to yours, Kento melted at your smile twinkling up at him. He smiled back, suddenly bashful, lopsided with crinkling eyes, before biting down on one lip and slamming his cock down into you. Your gasp shook through you, clawing into the harness across his chest and shoulders, hearing Kento swear with pleasure at the intensity of a second round.

Kento barely pulled out, wrapped in your arms and tight cunt. He almost spat with anger at the simultaneous need to savour you, and the need to leave, knowing he could not have both. Duty to you held the greater weight and, feeling another orgasm creep through his back and balls far too quickly, he slowed.

Completely engulfed by the enormity of him, you stared up at Kento, made submissive under his emotional insistence, the thick aching stretch of him sheathed inside you. Your back arched off the ground with a guttural moan when Kento slowed, dragging himself through your core from ball to tip in long, languid thrusts, the whole length of his cock glistening with gluey white seed.

He swore he could feel every ridge of you, the mind-altering bend of his cock as it moulded to the curve inside you. He needed you to carry the shape of him forever, an unremovable flesh-memory. Something had changed in him as you carded your fingers through his hair, whispering praises to him, to try to hold him together.

Kento looked drunk. His eyes were distant and hyperfocused all at once, his breaths and groans gruff, his voice gravelly with emotion as his mouth muffled against your shirt.

"--sorry, I...can't move my hands...hurt you, I--" Kento grasped your shirt between his teeth, ragging his head from side to side with a growl to lift it up over your breasts. He did the same to your bra, gripping the cups to yank your breasts free. They bounced out, full and peaked under his hot, frantic breaths.

Kento nosed at them, pulling his cock from you slowly, only to slam back into you with enough force to leave you writhing and whimpering. His mouth and nose played with your breasts, nudging, sucking and biting, hungry and obsessive. Something primal glimmered in his green glass-concealed eyes, as your mounds jiggled every time he fucked into you. The visual stimulus of you spread beneath him, your tight pussy slick with his cum, doe-eyed and completely willing, sent him spiralling towards his high.

"God I wish I--wish I could stay-- more than anything...cum with me, please please please--"

His thrusts became frantic, rough and sloppy with no warning. Kento's eyes darted from your face, to your breasts and pussy, and back again, drinking in the shock and ecstasy plastered over your face. You were trapped within the humid embrace of him, erotically overstimulated by his smell, his desperation, the constant stroke of his weeping cockhead against your spongy soft spot.

You didn't realise how close you were to orgasm until his position shifted, his trimmed honey-gold trail now rubbing against your clit. Clinging onto him, and rubbing upwards to meet his thrusts, you begged for Kento to help you. Your begging was Kento's last straw, and he gasped, his seed slugging out in lazy, creamy trickles against your overstuffed cervix and pussy.

Barely able to see straight, Kento kept rubbing his rigid pelvis against you, gruff and messy while you felt the drag of pleasure through you, softer than bare feet through hot sand. Kento whispered to you, sweat mingling on your foreheads pressed together; "...don't regret a thing...won't regret a minute-- wish this was different...deserve more..."

Panting in each others embrace, the dreadful horror of reality seeped back into you both. You could hear cries in the distance, the rumble of battles. You fought an unwinnable fight. Silent, and pensive, you jolted out of your reverie to hear Kento groan above you, reluctantly pulling his softening cock free. He knelt, dewy-eyed, watching the gluey drip of his cum from you, moaning and shivering as he held his half-hard cock, nudging the cum back inside with his tip.

The sudden emptiness almost made you weep. You felt the same terrible foreboding emanating from him as you had when he arrived on the rooftop. Kento smiled down at you, heartfelt and reassuring, pressing a folded pocket handkerchief to you before pulling your underwear back on over it. He kissed you delicately, from toe to knee while you giggled, before planting one lazy kiss and nuzzle onto your belly. You grasped his head there, scratching gently at his scalp with your fingernails.

"Stay with me, Kento. Just stay." You pressed, knowing in your gut that his decision was already made. His sigh creaked the leather of his harness with broad, corded tugs of his shoulders.

"They need help, underground. I'm one of the few First Grades available. It's only right that I go down there."

Kento's words, as always, rang with decisive finality. Before you could begin to talk again, he interrupted you smoothly.

"You will not come with me."

"You can't stop me."

"Shoko needs you. Your reverse cursed technique is second only to hers, and she's in need of support. It's the proper thing to do."

You squirmed with guilt, knowing you would choose to let Shoko suffer over Kento. Kento glowered down at you, stern, as if he hadn't just fallen apart inside you. You swallowed, a coil of doubt inside your belly.

"...don't be a hero, Kento." Kento frowned as if he didn't understand, and you insisted. "Don't be a hero. Get yourself out first. I mean it." Kento hesitated, looking out over the city lights, the breeze ruffling his mussed hair. He pulled his shirt back on, threading it under his harness.

"...alright." He lied. He paused. You both stood, sticky with each others' cum cooling between your legs. Nuzzling nose to nose, it felt so surreal to have to toss aside post-coital softness, in exchange for the cold embrace of battle.

"Go to Shoko," Kento whispered against your lips, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "and help her. Please. Do as I say."

"Promise you'll come back to me." You hushed into his kiss, beseeching him. He softened, deceptively reassuring, while hearing his clocktower chime.

"Always. I'm all yours. Always." Planting one lingering kiss to your forehead, you watched Kento's retreating back, his figure disappearing down the stairwell.

You wondered if you'd ever trust anyone other than Kento, over your own instincts.

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Shoko was surprised to see you, her cigarette drooping as she raised her thick, dark eyebrows.

"Kento told me you wanted me." You insisted. Shoko shot Yaga one questioning look. Yaga shrugged, arms folded.

"We haven't spoken to Kento all evening." Shoko assured. You felt a flash of panicked rage in your gut, knowing he'd lied to you. Knowing he was taking himself to an unwinnable battle. You grabbed Shoko by the arm.

"Where are they? His team? Where is he?"

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Kento was bloodied, missing an arm of his shirt, his vision obscured by the incessant bleed of a head wound. Pushing out of Dagon's domain, he knew he was exhausted, already skirting his limit. He felt a monstrous wave of Cursed energy, so much deadlier than his own.

A volcano-headed Curse approached him, its hand outstretched and hovering over Kento's abdomen. Naobito and Maki already smouldered in agony, and Kento felt the sickening weight of failure in his chest He had only a moment to protect himself, and he may have coated his body in Cursed-energy in its entirety, had he not filled his death-sentenced mind with thoughts of you.

He expected fire and flames...and felt you. When he protected his right half, you had arrived at the edge of a knife blade, and protected his left. The volcano-headed Curse faltered, stepping back with a scowl.

Kento looked down at you, knelt at his side in a braced position. His clock stopped chiming, in a moment of twisted fates reserved previously for the gods alone. He considered that you were, perhaps, a goddess, and he may be your vassal. You looked up at him, bristling with rage, and Kento's heart swelled.

"I'll tell you off later. For now...we have a fight to finish."

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By the end of the night, Itadori Yuuji had gained a brother and retained a beloved father figure. Nanami Kento cast his eyes over Choso with a hum of resignation, considering he may have another boy to look after, too. The patch-faced curse who may have been his executioner in another life, met its end. He witnessed an old friend who was not an old friend, cast a battle royale over the length of Japan.

Gazing in mute horror over the devastation left behind, Kento felt a hand slip into his own. His ears flushed red. He cleared his throat.

"I'm-- I'm so sorry--"

You laughed, your hands over your face. Kento's eyes glimmered with mirth. He plaited his fingers in yours, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, mumbling against them.

"My hero."

[lightsoutletsgo]

I’m such an angst girly omg how about lando’s phone not working and reader gets sad he’s not replying or answering her calls for a few days🤨

pairing: lando norris x reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, allusions to a panic attack, reader is v emotional, lando is an idiot ahhhh tysm for sending this in! It was fun to write but ofc I had to make it fluffy to end bc I didn't wanna make myself too sad happy reading! love mimi 🤍

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ — — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ — — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ — — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Long distance relationships were hard, you knew that before you’d even started dating Lando. You’d heard all of the stories before but like the many innocent others who had yet to experience their partner being on the other side of the world, you were determined that everything would be okay. 

Now, as you thought back to how naive you’d been, you scoffed, how could you have thought it would be so simple? If you weren’t battling with time zones, you were battling to find free time, and if you found free time, it was never quiet and peaceful and it never lasted more than a few minutes. You knew you should have been satisfied with those snatched moments you did get, but you missed your boyfriend. 

You missed him even more when he got another podium and you weren’t there to celebrate with him. You’d stayed up until stupid o’clock to watch the race live and you’d cheered and jumped as your boyfriend performed overtake after overtake to move up the grid to claim second place. You knew that once he had done his post-race interviews and meetings he would call you. You sighed as once more Lando’s contact picture flashed up with ‘facetime unavailable’. You’d scheduled this call the night before but he was only a few minutes late. You shook your head as you took a deep breath, he was probably just finishing up in meetings. Half an hour went by and your stomach twisted with worry as you still hadn’t heard from him. You checked your phone but there were no new notifications - not from him at least anyway. 

You curled up on the couch, noticing Lando’s hoodie still resting over the arm of the couch. Pulling it towards you, you nuzzled your face into it and inhaled, the smell of his cologne washing over you. You felt tears well up in your eyes. No matter how busy or tired he was, he had never once missed your call. You grew angry, not with Lando, never with Lando, but just at the situation. 

You huffed and grabbed your phone once more, deciding to doom scroll through instagram until Lando finally called. You noticed that a few people had posted new stories and so you pressed on the first one, absentmindedly tapping your screen until you paused, sitting up quickly as you realised the story you were looking at was Max Fewtrell’s. He’d posted a video in the club at a post-race party. You normally wouldn’t have batted an eyelid, but you could have sworn in the back corner of the dimly-lit club video was a figure that looked suspiciously like Lando. Going back to the start of his story and scrolling through again you realised it was Lando, wearing the black shirt you’d given him for his birthday the previous year. 

Turns out you could be mad at Lando. Something uncomfortable and hot flashed in your stomach as nausea hit you. Anger curled its way up your spine and through your chest, tightening around your lungs and making it hard to breathe. He was out at a club? And that’s why he hadn’t called you? You growled and glared at your screen, thumbs jabbing into the keyboard as you furiously typed a message to Max. He was online, you noted, as you hit ‘send’ and waited for him to read it. You barely had to wait five minutes before Max was apologising profusely and sending you a long paragraph about how he was sure Lando had texted you and would be letting him know straight away. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, throwing your phone down on the couch next to you with a ‘hmmph’. You sat in silence for a while, your emotions slowly welling up as tears gathered on your lash line. Was this how your relationship was going to end? Long nights alone while Lando partied it up on the other side of the world? Surrounded by scores of choices of pretty women and an endless supply of alcohol? You couldn’t help the way you sobbed as you grabbed his hoodie once more, desperately trying to catch your breath. You were crying so hard you almost didn’t hear the way your phone vibrated on the cushion. You gasped for air as you picked it up and turned it over, Max’s name flashing on the screen. You snatched your phone up and pressed the green button to accept, not even registering that it was a facetime call and he was going to see you crying.

You inhaled sharply as it was Lando’s worried face that appeared on the screen, he looked panicked and you could hear the music thumping in the background although slightly muffled. Despite the fluorescent lights he was standing under, he still looked good, “Baby? Oh my god…” He took in your tear stained cheeks and the way your eyes were red. He noted your sniffling noises and the way your bottom lip trembled, “Love I’m so so sorry!” You let out a laugh and rolled your eyes, trying to not let him see the next wave of tears that were threatening to fall, “Sure.” He sighed, “Honey, I promise you, I didn't mean it. I did text you! I didn’t realise it didn’t go through because I was in the post-race meeting!” “I wanted to celebrate your win with you!” Lando gently shushed you as he saw your chest heave, your breathing quickening once more, “Baby, baby, shh sh sh it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m right here.” He looked off screen for a moment to a person you assumed to be Max before the music got louder again and then quiet, as if Max had left Lando alone. You followed along with his breathing as he over exaggerated for you to copy.

“Love I promise you it was just an accident okay? I texted you to ask if you were ready to call but when there was no reply I assumed you’d fallen asleep so then I texted you to ask if you could be at the airport for 4am…” He winced, “I decided to fly home early and have a few days with you before the next race.” You melted back against the couch, hugging his hoodie to your chest as you tucked your knees up under your chin and rested your phone there, “4am?” You sniffled with a giggle, “Is that my hoodie?” He said, doing his best to distract you and you let out a proper giggle this time, “Lando! 4am is so early!” He laughed, relieved to see you feeling better, “I figured we could go for a super early breakfast and then go home and fall asleep together, in our bed, in our apartment which is my favourite place to be, with my love. Your bottom lip wobbled once more, “You promise?” He nodded to assure you, “I promise.” You inhaled deeply and let out an exhale with a sigh, “I can’t wait to see you,” your thumb gently rubbed across his cheek even through the screen. “I can’t wait to see you either love, can’t wait to be home”

[bakubonez]

Snap out of it!

Katsuki Bakugo x oblivious! GN! Reader

Summary thing: Katsuki likes you and apparently you have no idea.

A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Warnings: not proof read cuz I’m lazy, reader doesn’t know Katsuki likes them at all + they convince themselves he doesn’t lol, ambiguous ending, mostly focuses on Katsuki’s POV I think

You were an idiot. But Katsuki liked you regardless.

It was a problem, really. You’d weaseled your way into Katsuki’s group of friends, instantly charming everyone. He’d been more difficult to please, though. You’d been okay with it—you knew he’d come around eventually.

Which he did. Problem was, he’d come around and he’d fallen head over heels for you. Normally that wouldn’t be an issue, he could’ve just confessed or flirted with you.

Katsuki had decided to go with the method of dropping hints and flirting rather than straight up confessing to you. He wanted to test the waters first. There was no doubt in his mind that you’d like him; he’d seen the glances when you thought he wouldn’t notice, the little touches, your faint smile when he joined whatever you and his other friends were doing that day(after some pressure from Eijiro!). He knew there was no way it could possibly go wrong.

Little did he know, you were oblivious to his advances.

You constantly brushed his teasing remarks and flattery off as him being nice, not interested in jumping to the conclusion of him reciprocating your feelings in case you were wrong. You didn’t want to get your hopes up and your feelings hurt. So you ignored what he was doing, always somehow convincing yourself that the increase in your heart rate and the heat burning your skin when he made his stupid jokes and such was simply a trick of the mind. He didn’t like you. You just had to accept that fact and get on with it.

It was infuriating to Katsuki, though. Maybe infuriating isn’t the right word, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to be truly angered by you any more. Frustrating. There it was. You were unbelievably frustrating.

He adored you. Ever since the realisation of his feelings had dawned on him, he hadn’t been able to scrub any corner of his mind of you. You always lingered there. When he got bored in class he’d think of you, zoning out while the teacher at the front went on and on about something that clearly wasn’t anywhere near as relevant as you. He’d stumble across videos online that made him think of you, that made him think, ‘you’d like this’. Some of them would make it to you, but sometimes he’d already sent so many of them that day that he needed to save it to a little folder dedicated to you, to keep for when he needed an excuse to message you.

Katsuki hadn’t come to UA with the intention of making friends. But he had. And now he was on the complete other side of his initial promise—chasing not only a friend, but a romantic connection.

And so, the days went on where he’d shoot his shot and miss. He’d miss because you kept interfering. You kept brushing it off.

Eventually he resorted to telling Eijiro, whining and complaining to you about how stubborn and irritating you were right now, but also how much he’d come to treasure you. You’d become precious to him, nestled in your own little place in his heart. He was having a hard time trying to get over you. Maybe it was because he really didn’t want to.

At the end of the day, despite how much he complained about your oblivious nature, he couldn’t bring himself to scrap the future he’d carefully carved out in his mind for the two of you. Katsuki wanted those sweet, domestic moments that he would’ve ignored with anyone else but you. He wanted the less sweet ones, arguments and results of villain battles. All of it. He wanted all of it. He wanted all of you.

It didn’t matter to him what you thought a partner wouldn’t like in you. To him, there was nothing to dislike. The curve of your nose, the colour of your eyes, the texture of your skin, your laugh. Even the parts of you that you tried to hide, he loved all of it. He couldn’t imagine a time where he didn’t.

For now, though, he had to wait patiently for you to catch on, or for his self control to slip from him. He had to tell you the truth one day. You’d snap out of it.

Katsuki hoped it wouldn’t be too late by the time he did.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Hello, hope you're doing alright. I have a pretty twisted one shot request concerning our amazing Shadowsinger. I was looking at the super natural dark dialogue prompts list and I feel like the #24 and #36 would fit perfectly for my request.

So basically: I was thinking about Azriel capturing the reader. She's a spy from the Spring Court and she was on a mission wandering at the border of the Night Court. When the reader wakes up, she's tied up in Azriel torture room. She also realizes how Azriel seems to be drawn to her. As she tries to find a way to make him untie her, she remembers something about Illyrians obssesion with bargains and deals. She offers to make a deal with him that the first one to make the other cum earn a favor. If she wins he spares her life, and if not he can kill her. And like as they conclude the pack, a tattoo appears on both of them and bla bla bla... and she ends up winning this challenge maybe?

Can't wait to see if you'll be willing to write this! I think it would have a lot of potential if written by you. Anyways, keep up your good work. I love your writing.

Okay, I know I said my next release would be the POM bonus bits, and then I’d be working on my other pieces, but I got this request and had immediate inspiration for it, so here it is!

Thank you to whoever sent this in! I hope I did it justice. It was very fun to write! I hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

The prompts you requested to be included in this will be written in bold.

Note: I haven’t tagged anyone in this because I desperately need to sort out my tag lists and haven’t had the chance. I’ll add them later if I get the time. Sorry!

Warnings: Smut! 18+, minors dni. NSFW. Some details of aggressive behaviour. Azriel being a sore ass LOSER.

Lust is a Losing Game — Azriel x Reader.

You can feel the caress of Night before your eyes open.

Every single court you have trespassed and traversed has its own distinct feel. The Autumn Court feels perpetually — and unsurprisingly — like a stroll through a forest, touched by brisk air and hues of oranges, yellows, reds. Your home court — Spring — has a feeling of renewed hope; like the first rays of sun after a long, harsh winter.

The Night Court is blood-drenched, rippling darkness, and the allure of scandal, of want, of lust.

Night time is for secrets and exploration. It’s for burning the bridge between who you are in the daylight and becoming something…else. It’s exciting, and it’s coaxing, and—

Cold, sharp metal prods beneath your chin. Its point is lethal. Any wrong move, and you’re bleeding.

Perhaps even more lethal is the quiet voice that commands, “Eyes open.”

Slowly, you comply — because you are both intrigued and wise. Intrigued by where you went wrong and where you ended up. Wise, because you know that cold, granite voice.

It doesn’t surprise you in the least to open your eyes and find Azriel the shadowsinger stood in front of you, his blade at your throat.

You know of him, of course — spymaster of the Night Court, a rare species of fae, far more powerful than many realise. You’ve sat across from him during terse meetings between courts and been the target of those guarded, icy stares. You’ve never heard him utter more than a few words at a time; he is spoken for by reputation, by violence and threat and battle.

But you’d know that voice anywhere.

You peer up at him through eyes blurred by some sort of power. And when your lips tilt up into a smile, a subtle tick of his jaw tells you it incenses him.

“Hello, Azriel.” You rasp.

The blade presses into your skin as he asks, “What were you doing at the border of our court?”

“Picking wildflowers. Foraging berries. Making a daisy chain. All the things a lady loves to do.”

A quiet noise sounds in his throat. “Is that what you are? A lady?”

“I’m whatever you want me to be, shadowsinger.”

His answering smile is cruel. A harsher press, and his blade nicks your throat. A drop of warm blood blooms on your skin.

Your eyes, rapidly clearing, take quick stock of your surroundings. The room is dark and damp and cold, empty save for the chair on which you sit — to which you are constrained. You can scent the blood of a thousand previous victims of the shadowsinger, and you imagine the vacancy of the space must have been more intimidating to them, somehow, than if the room were filled to the brim with torture instruments. The lack thereof tells anyone who finds themselves here that the Night Court’s spymaster does not need such things to do his work.

You try to shift in the chair, and find yourself well and truly stuck in place. Your gaze drops to your feet, where shadows act as manacles, as firm and strong and steel. Though your hands are restrained around the back of the chair, the cool touch tells you that a shadow binds them, too.

Azriel follows your gaze. A smug smile graces his mouth as he watches you try and fail to move.

“An impressive little trick.” You offer, nodding to the shadows around your ankles. “Now be a gentleman and untie me.”

“Tell me what you were doing at our border, and maybe I will.”

“Tell me your secrets and I’ll tell you mine.”

“You’re not really in the position to barter, right now, are you?”

“And yet, here I am.” You smile. “Bartering.”

He stares down at you, shrouded in shadows, in night. His aloofness has been perfected over centuries, but you somehow know where to look in order to tell — you’re getting on his nerves.

A slight angling of his head. Shifting on his feet. He drags the tip of that blade up, not pressing quite hard enough to draw more blood, but to make a twisted heat enter your veins. The blade stops at your cheek.

“I don’t know how you do things in the Spring Court.” His breath caresses your face. “But I can’t imagine it’s part of your job description to be a smartass who can’t keep her mouth shut.”

Your eyes flick down to that blade. Back up to his gaze. “I can’t imagine it’s part of yours to lust over me so tirelessly.”

The shadowsinger actually falters.

Something tells you he would never do that in front of somebody else.

His teeth grit. He bites out, “Tell me why the fuck you were at the border—”

“I’ve seen you, you know.” A satisfied smirk curls your lips. You will not give away that your arms and legs are beginning to ache. “I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me for years.”

A clatter bounces off the walls as he tosses his dagger to the floor. Can’t be one that means much to him, then. You almost laugh, but a scarred hand is gripping your chin to the point of pain. He tilts — yanks — your chin up. “Pray, tell, how do I look at you?”

“With hunger.”

“Hatred.”

“Lust.”

“Loathing.”

“Like you want to touch me.”

“I am going,” he snarls, “to wrap my hands around your throat and—”

“Fuck me?”

“Kill you.”

A mocking pout puckers your lips. “Less sexy.”

"You must be a fool," his fingers bite into your skin, "to laugh in the face of such danger."

"What danger would that be? You've handed me your threats. What are you waiting for, Azriel? Kill me."

He could easily retrieve his blade and gut you then and there. You know it. He knows it.

And yet he doesn't do it.

He clenches his jaw so hard that you hear his teeth clash. He squeezes your chin, calluses and scars grazing you. It feels...good.

But then a growl is ripping from deep within his chest, and he's tearing his hand away and pivoting on the spot. He's confident enough in the shadow bindings to turn his back to you, clearly.

You just smile. He can't do it. Can't kill you.

"I'll do you the courtesy of asking one last time." His voice is strained. "Why were you snooping around our border."

"Perhaps I was hoping you'd find me and tie me to a chair. I'm into that kind of stuff, you know. We could make this fun."

"You think this room is intended for fun?"

"I think you and I could have fun anywhere, shadowsinger."

He says nothing. You watch as he sucks in a deep breath, steels himself. By his command, a shadow dances out and retrieves his blade from the floor. His fist flexes at his side.

Perhaps you can irritate him enough that he'll either kill you or let you leave out of pure exasperation. Or turn on the tears and plead innocence, that you're just a foolish, foolish girl doing her High Lord's bidding.

Or perhaps you can have fun.

You scan your brain for what you know about this court. How you can use it to your advantage — use Azriel to your advantage. An idea knits itself in the twisted avenues of your mind.

"This court has a thing for bargains, does it not?" You watch Azriel's shoulders tense at the sound of your voice. "How about making a bargain with me?"

He chokes on a scoff. "Why would I want to make a bargain with you?"

"Because you want me."

Slowly, he turns. His eyes are narrowed, mouth pinched. He looks two seconds away from using that blade to wipe your head clean from your neck.

But then he smiles, cruelly and coldly. "How very sure of yourself you sound."

You mimic that smile. "I am." Damn right you are. "So here is my deal: you toy with that lust however you like. We tease each other. Coax reactions from each other."

"Where is the bargain in that?" No outright refusal.

"If I make you cum first, shadowsinger," your eyes fall to his breeches. You could swear you glimpse the outline of a bulge. "If I make you cum first, I get to walk out of here with my head still attached to my body. But if you make me cum first...well. You get to know why I was snooping around the Night Court border, and you can send my head back to my High Lord in a pretty little box."

He stares at you for what feels like so, so long. Head to toe, his eyes rake over you. His shadows whisper in his ears, things you don't need nor care to hear.

Because you might not have his shadows, but you are a spy, just as he is. And you know his mind is already made up.

Shadowsinger, spymaster, feared member of the infamous Night Court — but still, a male weakened by lust. Lust for you that has driven him mad for a long, long time.

Still, he tries to keep up a front. He sneers at you, "You'd so willingly barter away your life?"

You smile. Simply, prettily. "It turns me on."

Oh, he's lost to his need. There's a newer scent that has joined the present ones of cedar and night-chilled mist and bloodstains. This one is deeper, smokier. Spicier.

He points his blade at you, the tip glimmering. And the shadow binds fall away as he demands, "Undress."

Your hands fall back to your sides. "Are you saying you agree to my terms?"

"Yes. Now take. Your fucking. Clothes off."

"What way is that to talk to a lady?"

"You are no lady—" His words fall short as, with a snap of your fingers, your clothes disappear. Leave you in nothing but your undergarments. His eyes drink in the brassiere, the silky little fabric that hangs from your hips. He swallows. "And I am no gentleman."

A spy you may be — someone who throws themself into danger and risk and dirt and blood, time and time again. But you never see a reason not to wear pretty underwear while doing so. And gods, in this moment, you're very glad of that choice.

It's the same colour as the siphons that adorn the male before you. The coldness in Azriel's eyes is replaced by intense, raw heat. He takes a step towards you, but you kick out a leg.

"Your turn." You say.

He pauses. Chucks his dagger aside again.

And then his clothes are gone.

He doesn't seem the slightest bit fazed by the fact that he stands utterly naked before you. So much golden, sculpted skin on show. All over, white scars tell the stories of previous injuries. His body is a novel written over time.

That silky underwear of yours is already soaked as you take your fill of him. For a moment, you think you might stumble in your bravado. He's huge and hard and standing to attention. Utterly perfect.

But you sit up straight in the chair and plant your hands on the arms. Your legs part, and Azriel hungrily tracks the movement.

"There is only one rule." You tell him. "We don't want to make this too easy, after all."

His jaw flexes. Eyes don't stray from the growing damp patch between your thighs. "What's the rule."

"You can touch me. You can lick me. You can put your cock in my mouth and my hand and rub it against my skin. But you can't fuck me."

He starts, pupils blowing wide. "But—"

"Not today." Your lips curl up. "But if I win, and I walk out of here? Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me."

"You are wicked."

"Do you accept my rule?"

"Yes."

You are wicked, indeed. You widen that gap between your legs until you're hooking them over the arms of the chair. Baring your silk-covered cunt to him. His eyes damn near roll into the back of his head at the sight.

"Do you think you can stand to touch me without fucking me?" You hum, your fingers dancing down to that, sweet, sweet spot. You run them over the dampness, biting your lip. "I don't think you can."

"You underestimate me." Azriel growls. "And you're going to cum first."

There is no opportunity for you to volley a response. Not as Azriel surges forward and yanks you out of the chair, his arms securing you. His firm, velvety cock presses against your stomach. His lips slide over yours in a harsh, bruising kiss.

A male of natural elegance and grace, he doesn't even falter in the kiss or his steps as he marches you back, back, until you're pressed up against a cold wall. You nip his bottom lip and reach between your bodies, wanting to feel the pulsing weight of his cock in your palm, but his hands are grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head.

"No hands." He snarls onto your lips. "Just my cock and your cunt. Whoever cums first is the loser."

You almost want to laugh. So, so easy this will be.

But then he's letting go of your hands and pinning you with a knee. And out of fucking nowhere, a slim bottle appears between his fingers. You watch, leaning against the cold surface of the wall, as he pulls the stopper out of the bottle and tilts it towards you.

Oil drips onto your chest. Rolls down your breasts, your stomach. Azriel watches with predatory focus as it floods to where he wants it — soaking your underwear.

The blue silk darkens, sticks to your skin. Showcases everything that Azriel so desperately wants, but everything he will not get — today.

And then so quickly, he's hoisting your leg at his hip. So quickly, his cock is pressing into your soaking undergarments.

He positions his length between your thighs and guides it through your clothed folds. Both of you let out an immediate gasp at the taunting sensation — that a mere bit of fabric separates you from what you both want.

"Is this how you're going to play it?" Your head falls back, teeth digging into your lower lip. "You think thrusting through my clothes is going to stop you from cumming?"

"No." He makes a small noise, slowly rolling his hips. Watches his glistening cock rubbing against the silk. "But I think I'm going to make you cum fast from it."

"And then you get to kill me."

"And then," the head of his cock nudges your clit, "I get to kill you."

The sensation is divine, you can’t deny it. A coiled, aching pleasure that sits tightly in your lower belly. Azriel hears your intake of breath, and he smiles like this will be easy for him. You’re having none of that.

You’re thankful for your refined stealth and balance as you clamp your leg tighter around him, pull him harder against you. His hands press flat against the wall either side of your head, and you both gasp as his cock rubs so torturously against you, up and down and up and down.

“Gods,” He grunts, dipping down to brush his lips against yours. “This is torture.”

You smile. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to remove my underwear? You still can’t fuck me, though.”

A suffering groan chokes out of him, and he throws his head back. Because yes, he fucking wants you to remove your underwear. Yes, he wants to feel his bare skin rubbing against your bare skin.

But gods, the temptation to slide his cock into you is going to be unbearable.

But even though he knows that, and you know that, he smiles like this is nothing. He bites out, pleasure wavering his voice, “Why not? It’ll only make you lose.”

“I think you’re giving yourself a little too much credit.” You say, and then your underwear is gone, leaving you naked and dripping with nothing to shield you.

Not expecting it so fast, Azriel’s cock slides easily through your folds — and the head nudges your entrance. Very nearly slips in. He growls and halts the roll of his hips.

“Oops.” You smirk. “Careful, shadowsinger.”

“You’re fucking insufferable.” He bites back, and then he’s kissing you.

The kiss robs you of breath and of words. All you can do is twine your arms around his neck and welcome the sensation of him fucking through your folds, your wetness his pleasure. You’re lost to the feeling of him bumping against your clit, rubbing against it. Your legs are beginning to tremble.

“I want to fuck you.” Azriel moans, dropping his head to take in the sight of his cock against your pussy, never entering, never going deeper.

“I know.” Your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “And you have wanted to for a very long time.”

“Yes.” He can’t even deny it. “Yes.”

“You think about me.”

“Yes.”

“You wonder what it’s like to be inside me.”

“Yes.”

“But not today.” Your hands stroke down his muscled arms, and you moan as he grinds his cock against your clit. “Not today.”

“Nor any other day.” His hand fists in your hair, yanking your head up. “Because I will have your head. Cum for me, lady.”

He kisses you again, and gods, you want to cum. Every single inch of you begs and trembles for it. You’re clenching around nothing, desperate to feel him inside you, fucking into you, spilling into you—

But through your pleasured haze, you remember: you will be victorious. Azriel cannot win.

And so when he’s kissing you and kissing you, moans catching in his throat and landing in your mouth, hips faltering with every thrust, you pull your lips from his and sink your teeth into his neck with a harsh bite. You’ve always imagined he’d like that.

And simultaneously, you lock him between your thighs and roll your hips torturously slow, dragging every last sensation from him.

Azriel’s cock, nestled snugly between the folds of your cunt, spasms and twitches. He slams his hands against the wall and goes still. Tries to pull back the control.

But it’s too late for that.

“Fuck!” He shouts, and then ropes of cum are spurting out of him and landing on your stomach, your breasts, your arms. Beads of it roll down his cock. He trembles hard, panting, groaning, growling.

And you suck harshly at his neck. Suck until it leaves a mark. And then pull away with a smile.

Breathing so, so heavily, Azriel’s gaze drops down to his cock like the damn thing has betrayed him. He’s wide-eyed and outraged. He’s not sure what’s just happened.

A horrid longing still aches between your legs and makes you want to continue until you’re exploding, too. But the triumph of a win is pleasure in itself.

“Well, well, well.” You glance down at the cum now coating your skin. “I do believe I was right.”

“What—” Azriel breathes, shaking out of his lust. “What kind of witchcraft was that?” He touches his neck, where you bit him. As though the answer lies there.”

You shrug. “No witchcraft, though I’m flattered you think so. You simply lost the game.”

“I. Don’t. Lose.”

“You just did.” You pat his shoulder. “There, there.”

He rips away, so fast that you almost fall. “Get the fuck away from me.”

“Gladly.” With a snap of your fingers, you’re squeaky clean and clothed once more. Azriel’s clothes return, too. “And I’ll do so with my pretty head still on my shoulders—

“Get out.”

“Because I won the game—”

“Get. Out.”

“A bargain’s a bargain, after all—”

“I will not tell you again.” His hand grabs the back of your neck, hard enough to bruise, and he marches you to the door, yanking it open. “Out.”

You’re thrown into a dim-lit hallway, your body colliding with a cold brick wall. You throw Azriel a smile over your shoulder, despite your teeth singing at the impact.

“Try not to wank over me too much!” You call, as he slams the door shut behind him. “See you around!”

It’s only once you’ve winnowed back to your own court, and you’re bathing the day from your skin, that you notice the small black band inked into your upper arm. You scrub at it until it’s red raw. It doesn’t budge.

The mark of a bargain. But you had always believed that the tattoos of bargains disappeared once the terms were fulfilled…

But if I win, and I walk out of here? Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me…

It had all been bravado. And yet…it had unwittingly been woven into the bargain.

Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me.

That’s the only way you’re getting that mark off your skin.

[percyjavksongf]

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬.•✵

➤𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤! 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

➤𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏,𝟓𝟔𝟐

➤𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 )𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲), 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭, 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐨.

“𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠:

𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫

𝐘𝐨𝐮.“

𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜𐮜

You’d learnt many things since you first set foot in camp all those years ago

The Gods were real being a large one, that took you a little convincing to actually believe. You were first sat down by Groover who attempted to the best of his abilities to tell you yes they were real and no I swear we’re not just some crazy cult. It wasn’t until you finally left the infirmary and wandered around Camp Half Blood that you actually accepted it, this was your life now, child to a God. It sounded so bizarre at first, hey did you know I’m the kid of a God?, yeah totally sane sounding.

You were glad you weren’t the only person at Camp to find this all wild, you had been introduced to Percy Jackson by Groover, who figured you two were in the same boat and could lean on each other for support accepting all this. At first it was awkward, you two barely speaking a word until you offered him a piece of your crushed up candy still in your pocket from your journey here. Your friendship grew from there, both surprised to find out you grew up only a couple blocks away from each other. As you grew so did your relationship, you spent years dancing on the line of friends or lovers, both too nervous to make the first move.

You’ll never forget that day, the battle of Manhattan. It was a day you always avoided thinking about, but it creeped into your dreams and left you sitting up in bed, trying to breath in your surroundings. You weren’t there, you were safe in Camp Half-Blood

but Silena wasn’t.

You’d usually end up in tears after having yet another nightmare about her death, you had been there when she died, watching helplessly as the colour slowly drained from her face, her hand which was snugly wrapped in yours becoming cold. Clarisse had been the one to drag you from Silena’s body, shoving you to stand and telling you to get your act together, but you knew from the tears that begged to be released from her waterline that she was just trying to help, you were in a vulnerable position being there alone. Percy had found you later after Kronos had been defeated, he had turned down the offer of becoming a God. You hadn’t noticed his presence until he dropped himself down on the sidewalk next to you, wrapping an arm around your motionless frame and pulling you into his body, the only sound between the two of you being his sobs.

Guilt was a very common emotion for Demi-gods to feel.

You could spend days picking at every little action you took, every decision that ultimately resulted in the death of a friend, a sibling, someones lover. You hadn’t let yourself mourn Silena’s death for a couple of weeks, managing to convince yourself that she was just locked up in her cabin, planning the chore chart for her siblings, she always took so much pride in her work. Silena was the third person you met at camp, you two got along like a house on fire, whenever you weren’t with Percy it was guaranteed you were wandering around camp with her, laughing at some stupid joke Travis Stoll had told you earlier or listening to her gush over Charles Beckendorf.

It wasn’t until you had wondered over the strawberry fields one evening after the campfire, you had laid down and stared up at the breathtaking arrangement of stars above you, you remembered pointing out your favourites with Silena a couple of months back.

It had hit you suddenly, realising you laid on the cold earth alone and your friend would never reach a hand out to direct your line of vision to where a particularly bright star laid. Your sobs come on suddenly, ripping from your throat as you tried to breath in as much air as you could. You not sure how long you laid there until you felt someone guide you to sit up, unaware of how little air you were actually letting into your lungs, leaving you with a harsh coughing fit. The hand rubbed against your back in large circles, eventually leading your head to rest against their chest and running their fingers through your now dirt covered hair.

You stayed there for awhile tucked in this person’s lap until your sobs became quiet sniffles, you didn’t mind the position, already having a feeling who your consoler was. You lifted your head to get a look at him, his fingers still played with the ends of your hair, his eyes staring off somewhere in the distance. As if sensing your gaze, Percy’s eyes landed on you, from the frown on his face you knew you must’ve looked a state.

“I’m sorry, Percy” you had managed to get out, your throat dry from being quiet for so long. Percy shook his head quickly and gently squeezed your side where his other hand held you.

“don’t apologise” he spoke gently, moving his hand from your hair to brush off a few stray tears from your cheek. You moved your head down again to press into his tense shoulder, his own head moving to rest on top of yours.

“Percy..” you whispered, but what were you supposed to say? You hadn’t spoke to anyone about Silena since returning from the battle, it never felt like you knew the right words to explain how you felt.

“It’s alright, I know.” he had spoken into your hair, pressing a light kiss to it before turning to look back at camp once more.

After that night it had become routine to end up most evenings in Percy’s arms, or sprawled across his bed as he sat with his back against the tiled wall, somehow managing to find a slightly damaged pack of Uno cards. Those little moments brought back the first genuine smile you had in months. Sometimes your positions would change, Percy held a lot of guilt himself over the losses in Manhattan, you knew as soon as you snuck into his cabin after curfew whether it had been a good day or not, your arms opening instantly to let him in.

It got easier as the years went by, you both still had your moments, a sudden dream that brought you back to the events of that day. Which usually ended up in you knocking on Percy’s cabin door at three in the morning, to which he always brought you in and wrapped you up in his arms.

Which is were you laid now, Percy’s head tucked into your shoulder and his arms and legs through messily over your body, you stared up at the ceiling of his cabin and played with the curls in his hair absent-mindedly. Another dream had left you awake before the sun, but you hadn’t cried which was a first for you, and probably why Percy remained asleep. In your dream you had seen Silena, forever seventeen and doing her regular cabin check ups, scolding those who rooms weren’t up to standard. Your dream has changed to you staring down at her lifeless eyes, her hand slowly limping out of your grasp. You had woken shortly after, feeling yourself grip Percy’s camp shirt tighter, you must’ve both fallen asleep soon after wandering back from the campfire. You smiled, remembering how delighted you had felt watching the Apollo kids put on an amazing performance for the newer campers, landing a small grin on there faces. You turned to look over at Percy, gasping loudly when you found him already watching you, earning a small chuckle from him

“you creep” you whispered, teasingly pushing his face away from you.

“legit get out of my bed” he replied instantly, making a laugh bubbling from you which was quickly captured by Percy’s lips. You relaxed in his touch as he shuffled to lean over you, pressing you into the mattress slightly before ultimately dropping his weight on top of you, burrowing his face back into your shoulder

“Percy” you whined in protest, attempting to shove the man off of you unsuccessfully.

He hummed into the pillow, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you from under him. Once he was satisfied with your position, being tucked into his side between him and the wall, his blanket engulfing you which you let happen delightfully.

Being a demi-god was hard, it left you with lots of emotional and physical scars that might never fully heal, but it gifted you so many beautiful things too. The nightmares were a given and would never completely go away, but when you remembered that you had a camp full of people who understood and held no judgement, it made it all a bit easier. Percy’s arm hung over your chest protectively, even if you hadn’t mentioned the dream he already knew. You think back to that night with him in the strawberry field, it gets better, you think. Pressing one last kiss to Percy’s cheek you let yourself be taken once again into the world of sleep, this time having no nightmares to awaken you. You’d learnt a lot of things since joining camp all those years ago, but one lesson you had only come to believe recently,

It does gets better.

a/n: ok I legit just pulled this out of my ass lol, not sure how good this is as it only took me an hour and i haven't proof read. anyways its a sad fic which i usually steer away from but yk we're trying somthing new.

much love always 💕💕

[ryemiffie]

Not sure if this has been thought before, but I was thinking about Jason and Tim's relationship and how everything went down with Jason's whole revenge plan or whatever and I present the thought of:

Jason is revived, spends his time with the league and then goes and sees that Batman has 'replaced' him with Tim, of course he's hurt by this and he starts to question if Bruce ever really viewed Jason as a son or if it was all just in Jason's head, he doesn't want to believe that Bruce would replace him but the evidence is damning.

Jason being so hurt by this he decides he can't tell Bruce he's back, and goes on to plan all his Red Hood drama. At first Jason is content with doing what he thinks is right as Red Hood and is fine just killing the Joker on his own. As long as Joker is off the streets and can't hurt anyone else Jason thinks this will be enough.

Years pass and Jason has made a name for himself as the Red Hood, and during this time he has become accustomed to seeing Batman fighting alongside his new sidekick, his new Robin. Whether in passing or from a distance, Jason has seen how the two interact and function with each other, and he recognises how much Tim seems to care for Bruce. It's hurtful to think of Bruce having moved on and replacing him but Jason sees his younger self in the way Tim looks at Batman while they're in battle.

In this time Jason has not been able to bring himself to kill the Joker, his own mental turmoil at the idea of facing the man who killed him keeping him from acting on his anger, instead he only fights against the joker from afar, foiling his schemes in ways that didn't require him to ever actually have to face the twisted man.

Jason tries his best to avoid Batman and his new protege, and just continue working in the shadows of Gotham as Red Hood without having to deal with any conflict from the dark knight/his dad, while from afar feeling a sort of connection with Tim, he is technically his younger brother now right? Even if Jason can't bring himself to so much as wave in his direction when near enough that Tim might see him. During a team up of some kind, probably with someone like Harley Quin, Red Hood is informed of the Joker Jr incident and is suddenly filled with such rage, such anguish at the idea that not only had Bruce failed to save Jason, had let him die and then allowed the Joker to keep his own life, but that Bruce would allow Joker to hurt another one of his sons, to hurt Jason's brother. That even after seeing both Jason and Tim suffer at the Joker's hands that Bruce would still let that man continue with his life, continue to hurt people whether those people be members of the batfamily or just civilians caught in the crossfire of an endlessly painful rivalry between the clown and the bat. That Bruce would continue to take Tim out in the field and put him anywhere near the Joker to fight. When it was just for his own peace Jason could've ended the Joker on his own and let that be enough, sure it hurt Jason to think that the man he had seen as his father didn't care enough to avenge him but he would've survived, as long as he got to watch the life drain from Joker's face and the smile spill off his face when he died. But now, knowing what Batman had allowed to happen, not just to himself, but to Tim as well? It was just too much.

That would be the final straw. The thing that makes Jason finally go directly after Joker, to reveal himself to his father, to scream at him and air out his pain, his sorrow and his anguish, yelling "How could you let him do it? How could you let him continue living after what he did to me? How could you have allowed him to live on to hurt Tim? You couldn't protect me so why didn't you protect him? Was it not enough? To lose me? Was that not enough to make you realise? If I wasn't enough why wasn't Tim? It should've ended with me and it needs to end with Tim! How many more Robins will you let him hurt beyond repair? How many Bruce?! You need to end this! Please end this! If you couldn't do it for me please do it for Tim, he deserves better than you gave me!"

Anyway, just a thought I had. it's kinda hard to articulate in this typa format but maybe I'll write it out as a fanfic and it'll make more sense? Don't know if I will though, let me know if that's something anyone would be interested in I guess. But yeah, I'm just like really interested in Jason and Tim's dynamic and the potential they have for brotherly angst and shenanigans so I might just write some random Tim and Jason interactions for funsies whether or not I decide to post 'em.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Angel of My Dreams.

PAIRING: Chubby!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader

WORDS: 1,410.

SUMMARY: Aegon ii finds himself doubting his worthiness for your love and devotion, and yet you prove him otherwise. 

WARNINGS: fatphiobic comments, low self-esteem, degradation, swearing, angst, fluff.

A/N - surely you knew this was coming lmao, I am obsessed and will die by the hill that chubby!aegon is in fact real. Siri play SZA Big Boyyyy. p.s let’s just pretend they’re all one big happy fam, and that Aegon ii is the one to inherit the throne. 

Aegon, your dearest beloved, was perfection in your eyes. You’d both grown acquainted with one another mutually, and shared a mutual fondness and understanding with one another. Despite Aegon’s status in the realm, he was very much to himself, and unfortunately was known for having a notorious reputation amongst the ladies of the realm. What you’d heard through whispers and gossip, you found skeptical to believe, as Aegon showed a side to himself that you believed no other being saw. He was quite shy upon talking to you, after building the courage to introduce himself, and realising how warm you were, he opened up to you naturally. 

You’d come to realise, that was never an easy case for Aegon. The expectations not only his family, however the entirety of the realm held on him was beyond fair. From the moment of his birth to the man he'd become today, he was criticised for absolutely everything, down to the last minute thing. Much to your dismay, even his appearance. 

Most people had widely disapproved of how Aegon would present himself. Many agreed, that looking at Aegon’s physicality, no one would believe he'd be fit nor considered suitable to reign as King. Especially, when his younger brother, Aemond, had proved otherwise. When comparing the two sons, Aemond was favoured by the council. 

Regardless, most of the time, comments like this often encouraged Aegon to look how he did. 

“People have convinced themselves already that I am incompetent, why the need to disprove their claims?” He would succumb to. It took you what felt like a lifetime, for him to fight this battle, and yet you did the impossible.

For this, his mother, Alicent had noticed and took a great appreciation for your achievement. 

Before you'd met Aegon, he sought and often bought the lust and attention from elsewhere, a frequenter to the Streets of Silk and the brothel houses that established themselves in the region. Much to your satisfaction, your existence also put an end to these needless trips. 

Aegon would always exclaim how lucky he was to have found you, the angel of my dreams, he'd whisper into your ear late at night, as you wandered off to sleep in his strong, soft arms. He was aware of the terrible things he’d succumbed to since his youth, and having met you, you were the awakening of his regret. 

“I do not deserve you, not in the slightest, but the Gods work in mysterious ways,” Aegon would proclaim. 

And no matter the countless of times, you’d try to persuade him otherwise, that he saved you, it did not matter. His thoughts were set in stone, for he succumbed to pessimism since he could understand the meaning of words, as he was moulded to be the ‘perfect king’. 

It was impossible, you’d believed. For everyone had flaws, you knew this and yet so much weighed on his shoulders regardless. 

During the initial stages of your relationship with Aegon, he was weary of the nature of your affections. He struggled to decipher himself if they were genuine or had some hidden agenda, although you asked nothing of him ever. When he’d confront you of your love and intention with him, many a times you threatened to leave him if that's what it took, to the point where he stopped. At one point you held a grudge and offered silence, in return he followed you around every where pleading for forgiveness, as means to show that you did not care for any prize being with Aegon... Only that the love you as you did him.

In comparison, you’d questioned whether he merely saw you as a faint object of sex, not wanting anymore than a night of pleasure at his beckoning call. 

It was hard to believe, the future King of Westeros would want you, and yet here you laid by his side from night to night, in return he never left nor neglected you. 

Although, people allowed for their imagination to roam free, and had their own narratives created in their fickle minds of your relationship. 

“Mayhaps the young prince has impregnanted her, trapped her with his godforsaken child. Gods be good, they spare us from another Aegon. Terrible, he did not inherit the good qualities of his predecessor who bears the same name.” 

“It seems most likely, he has forced the poor girl’s hand in marriage, having taken her maidenhood without proper practice.” 

Regardless, of the gossip whispered, the most agonising of it all, was how many commented how ill it seemed that a beauty such as yourself be seen with Aegon.

Over the years, Aegon much like his father to his resentment, was a larger man. Growing up spoilt and royal, he was offered the finest delicacies across the 7 Kingdoms, and he found indulgence as an escape. He had a terrible habit of being gluttonous with most things, whether it be food, wine or women, from his previous bachelor days. These habits had been hard to overcome, before he had stumbled upon the gratifying reason of you. 

He found that, during the relentless and agonising dinners and feasts held, eating kept him busy, avoiding conversing with others both strange and familiar. Growing from child to a boy to now a young man, it was inevitable that his appetite grew to accustom his natural development. 

Much to his distaste, he would continue to combat train, and much preferred riding Sunfyre for he was in his own company (still persistent in convincing you to join him), he remained fit and strong. Although, his edges were soft and tender, and you did not mind it one bit. It never even occurred to you, that there would be any matter in question, regarding how you both appeared to the general public. Their opinions meant absolutely nothing to you, and you remained ignorant to it all, although Aegon struggled as he always did. He was only ever accustomed to hearing criticism and scrutiny, and struggled to block it. 

He had a subtle double chin that you would adorn with kisses, his arms muscular although hidden beneath a layer of fat, and his stomach plump and stout, protruded just a generous amount over the waistline, it was evident beneath his clothes. Although your favourite, was his legs, in particular his thighs. The way he'd prop you up, cradling you as you sat atop his solid build, his appearance was never questioned by you, and he knew that, no matter how much he’d deny it. 

And yet, he found himself the hot topic of countless, discrete conversations, especially with the young knights and men of the realm. Many found your warmth and welcome compelling, and became infatuated with your beauty. You had gentle, soft features, your mother a renowned beauty herself in her youth, many found it no doubt you inherited her vision. 

“I bet he’s somehow forced her into this godforsaken union. Needs a knight in shining armour to save her from that horrid, drunk beast.” 

“He doesn't even try to stop himself nor fix his pathetic ways, have you seen the way he gorges himself? The poor girl must suffocate with him.”

“Mayhaps Y/N is smarter than we think, and is not actually in love with Aegon, for who could love a fat bastard like him, and to think in a few years he’ll be King.”

It infuriated him hearing such words, words from some men he’d thought he could entrust as friends. Once they'd come face to face, they would act as though no dishonesty was committed. 

Treason, Aegon thought to himself. He'd made mental note of it all, and knew when the time was right, justice would be served by his own wroth. 

Often at times, as means to retaliate, he’d appear with you publicly, whether it was kissing you in public, or merely holding hands, or insisting you feed him grapes or cakes to him as you sat ontop, he relished the bitter looks on their smug faces. 

Ever since Aegon had met you, his confidence had grown, and he was eternally thankful. You’d become such a light for him, that he saw himself in a manner, most people denied him.

“You, you my sweet girl-”

Aegon would softly whisper, as he embraced you tightly in his large, tender arms, before releasing you. His hand reaching over to your face, placing a misplaced strand behind your ear, his thumb then gently tracing your lips. 

“You are everything to me, I love you.”

[soc69]

Okay, so I’ve somehow fallen back into my eraser mic family addiction so here are some back stories that I’ve recently been theorising about and can’t let go of:

(Also I fully intend to make another post about specific Headcannons of how each of their dynamics with one and other work. This is pretty much entirely for my own enjoyment but hopefully other people will get something out of this too)

Yamaha Hizashi:

I’m pretty sure it’s canon that when mic was born he deafened both his mother and the midwife so I have a bit of a dark background headcanon for him based on this.

Basically, I think that mic’s mother tried really hard to raise him for a few years but I don’t think his dad was ever really in the picture (or if he was he left pretty early on) so it was just a newly deafened young women dealing with a bit of postpartum depression and a huge law suit from the doctor who delivered mic for his loss of hearing. She couldn’t work and was trying to get by on subsidy and disability checks until, eventually, she just couldn’t take it any more and handed him over to the state when he was about 3 or 4. He doesn’t remember much about his early years and luckily he was only in the system bouncing around different foster homes for a year or so until he got adopted by his moms who loved him so hard and taught him how to see the best in people. He has never once questioned their roles as his real parents and credits them with his becoming a hero for giving him the best life they could.

That being said, he grew up knowing the story behind him being placed in the system and never once held it against his birth mother either. When he was a teenager, she saw him in the UA sports festival and decided to reach out. Despite it feeling slightly awkward for hizashi at the start and his mother battling feelings of guilt when she first met him, they got past that and these days they meet up once or twice a month to check in on one another. Nowadays, mic just counts himself as really lucky to have not one, not two, but three moms in his life who all care about him and want to do what they can for him and his family.

As mic gets older, the early reckless use of his quirk as a crying kid and pre-support-gear-hero-wannabe starts catching up to him and he begins to loose his hearing. By the time he’s in UA he’s already considered hard of hearing and these days he can’t hear much of anything without hearing aids. Of course, Aizawa learned sign language at the same time hizashi did when he was first warned that he might go deaf one day and they’ve been teaching eri since she moved in with them. Hitoshi, however, already knew sign, as I will get into next.

Shinsou Hitoshi:

Soooo, we all know how fond this fandom is of giving Hitoshi the most tragic story ever and I’ve really struggled to break that cycle, so here we go.

I headcannon that Hitoshi’s mom died when he was very young, maybe even in child birth, and his father was absolutely heartbroken by this. He really did his best with Hitoshi but he was so much like the love of his life in so many ways that he could hardly look at him without wanting to sob. They had the same hair, eyes, smile - everything in Hitoshi was inherited from his mother and when his quirk manifested it was, once again, directly inherited from her.

I think, contrary to popular belief, Hitoshi’s dad didn’t see this as a curse. He loved his wife and everything about her, including her quirk, but it was just so painful for him to see it when he couldn’t see her. He turned to some less than healthy coping mechanism and, after a DUI, realised that he needed to get his life back on track if he was ever going to do right by his son.

He ended up relinquishing some of his custody to the state when Hitoshi was around 6 but retained visitation rights and would come and see Hitoshi every weekend, giving updates about his job search and making promises that he could come home soon. However, the visits gradually became fewer and further between until one day, after he had taken Hitoshi out for what he, at the time, considered the best day of his life, his social worker delivered the message that he had emigrated to US and wouldn’t be coming back. He left Hitoshi a letter apologising for not being a good enough man to take care of him and truly believing this was for the best. Hitoshi held onto that letter until he was 13 when, in a fit of rage after being fostered by the worst family yet, he tore it to pieces. Sometimes he still remembers the letter and cries that he doesn’t have it anymore because for the longest time it was the only evidence he had that someone had loved him. Nowadays though when he feels like this he knows he has three people waiting to prove that’s not the case anymore.

Since Hitoshi had been un-fosterable for the first couple of years in the group home, what with his dad still being in the picture, he basically wasted what are affectionately termed the “cute years” in the system, meaning that, as a preteen, he was pretty undesirable to potentially families. He bounced around different group homes and foster families that took in troubled youths since most people were scared of his quirk and didn’t take kindly to him trying to talk to them. He ended up learning sign language form a deaf kid in one of the homes he was in and used that to communicate to most adults so as not to scare them out of taking care of him to the point that it was put in his file that he had selective mutism.

When Hitoshi got into UA and started training with aizawa, aizawa noticed that Hitoshi was a little malnourished and seemed more skittish than the average teen ought to be. He took it upon himself to start taking him out for meals after their training and keeping a close eye on any signs or abuse or neglect in the future. By this point Hitoshi was living in a group home as it was the closest place to UA and, although there was no current abuse happening, Hitoshi had experienced some maltreatment in the past that made him cautious around authority figures and it was still all too easy for him to accidentally be neglected in such an anonymous home life.

Taking Hitoshi out for meals after training eventually turned into inviting him back to his house for meals which turned into quality family bonding for the entire erasermic clan. Eri starting calling Hitoshi ‘toshi-nii’ and asking where he was whenever aizawa came home alone after the first month, hizashi started insisting he stay the night whenever he was there past 6pm, and shouta subtly converted their home office into shinsous private bedroom by adding a fouton, removing one of the desks, and gradually clearing the bookcases so Hitoshi wouldn’t notice the added effort.

Pretty early on hizashi and shouta have a conversation about how much they both want Hitoshi to join their family but they’re equally scared of overwhelming him or putting pressure in him to say yes to them because they’re his teachers so they agree to wait for the right time. The right time eventually comes during a breakdown after Hitoshi has a nightmare when he’s staying over about his birth father. When he wakes up he goes looking for his letter before he remembers he doesn’t have it anymore and cries to erasermic that he’s all alone. It’s then that they tell him how much they want him to join their family. Cue the entire family ugly sobbing.

Aizawa Shouta:

I actually headcannon Aizawa as being the only one with a relatively trauma free upbringing. He’s just a grouch by choice.

He was, however, raised entirely by women. His dad left when he was about three so it’s been just him, his mom, and his two older sisters ever since. The oldest is 6 years older than him and the middle is 4 years older than him so he really is the baby of the family and they all treat him as such. He pretends to hate it but when they all show up for him after he gets banged up in hero work and fret over him he secretly loves the attention and it means the world to him every time they make a trip to see him.

His mother is an incredibly sarcastic women and it’s where he gets all his sass but she’s also very no nonsense and will put anyone in their place if they dare to talk bad about her family. His oldest sister is a lot like him but his middle is criminally similar to hizashi so they get along like a house on fire. That being said, everyone in his family adores hizashi and they had bets on when the two would finally confess their love for each other ever since shouta brought him and oboro over in their first year for a group project. (What they don’t know is that oboro was the one who snuck off downstairs that day and started the betting pool). When it come to eri and shinsou however, my god, ‘adore’ is not a big enough word. They would all die for those children and make sure to visit as often as possible.

Eri:

So we all kinda know eri’s history already so I’m just gonna talk about how she responded to each of her new family members.

So obviously she immediately latches onto Aizawa as her hero and Aizawa adores her. He is biologically incapable of ever saying no to her (not that she really asks for much) and spoils her rotten, so, within a few weeks of moving in she has a new everything in every color. But that much we know already so onto mic.

I think it takes her a while to get used to hizashi as she’s instinctively very cautious around new people so, as much as it breaks mics heart, he has to spend the first couple of weeks of eris adjustment period staying with nemuri and visiting every other day until she’s more comfortable around him. The change happens when they’re having a bonding day at home and eri takes a tumble and nearly falls down the stairs from the top of the landing. On instinct, mic gets between her and the stairs and pushes her back up to safety but ends up falling down the stairs in her place. Eri immediately runs down to check on him apologising profusely and is absolutely terrified of how he’s going to react but mic just immediately pulls her into a hug and starts asking if she’s okay saying he was terrified she might of been hurt and from that point on eri realised that this man would never hurt her and so when he goes to leave that night she asks him to stay instead and he’s never spent the night at nemuris since.

As we’ve already established, she very quickly accepts Hitoshi as her brother but the exact moment it happens isn’t as easily pinpointed as it is with mic. One day she was shy and reserved around him and the next she was choosing to sit closest to him over everyone else on movie nights. It was such a seemless transition that no one even really noticed (except Hitoshi of course who clocked the change immediately and had no idea what to do with the fact that this little angel wanted him as a brother and definitely went to bed and cried about it the first time she chose to sit with him instead of her dads).

[transformersarelikemagicalgirlz]

Please tell me more about Zombie Optimus! :D

How long does it take the Team (Ratchet) to figure out what exactly is going?

How much does Miko freak out once she realises that Optimus is a Zombie now? I think her reaction would be similar to her reaction to Optiratch fighting Megatron‘s undead Cybertronians in one of the first episodes but even more intense.

How does the rest of the Team react? Is there someone who struggles to accept Optimus‘ new zombieness more than the others?

I personally think that Ultra Magnus would probably have a hard time with it. Although he only comes in later. Maybe June and/or Fowler?

Ratchet and Bee on the other hand, would probably accept it the fastest (after Miko) because they are already very devoted to Optimus.

When do Optiratch officially become an item? Does the rest of the team have to set them up or do they get there themselves?

Does it majorly affect any of the later events - i.e. Optimus sacrificing himself at the end of season 2: is that or more less dangerous for Zombie Optimus?

And literally anything else that comes to your mind. I find this idea super fascinating!

Sry, I hope this is not too much. ^^“

Hi!! And no this isn’t too much I LOVE yapping!

1st Q: as soon as Optimus sits up off the operation table and seems to have miraculously recovered, even as all his monitors flatlined, it was immediately obvious that something was wrong. Ratchet shunned everyone and did a full examination, discovering quite a lot. Not knowing how to how to handle this, he insists Optimus stay in quarantine, but part of the virus is increased energy and sense of ‘euphoria’ so he doesn’t stay put for long. All of them are quick to catch on that there’s something wrong. Though exactly WHAT takes until their next battle to figure out, as everything clicks when he cannibalizes a con-soldier.

2. Miko thinks it’s the COOLEST SHIT EVER. She’s disappointed she can’t witness some of the carnage herself though, Bulkhead is determined not to let her see something horrific.

3. Most of them are deeply unsettled and think that because his spark went out, he’s somehow not the same person any more. (Bee never doubted him for a second, it was more the others) It takes a full two episodes to completely reassure everybody that none of this means he’s gone, he’s still himself despite drastic personality/physical changes.

4. Ultra Magnus and Smokescreen have it harder. Ultra Magnus knew Optimus from before the war, so Prime feels pressured to try and feel recognizable to him. It fails miserably as he feels like he’s acting out a horrible parody of the person he once was. Smokescreen on the other hand is unfortunate to almost immediately witness his hero and idol tearing into the troops that came to retrieve his escape pod. He’s not even remotely as much a ‘compassionate wise and noble’ leader as he was told.

5. Ratchet is having problems with Prime’s condition for a multitude of reasons. He’s quicker to make decisions and resort to violence, he’s expressive, he’s more open about how he’s feeling and that unfortunately was something he was’nt ready for. They have a steady thing that never needed too many words, especially since it wasn’t important and even got in the way of war. Now he’s seemingly thrown caution to the wind and there’s emotional turmoil. Bulkhead is sort of pushing ratchet to try and do a little more reflection on his own feelings.

6. Yes this majorly effects the plot. One of the biggest characters effected is actually vehicons, now feeling more disposable than ever. Dying in battle is one thing, being eaten alive is another.

Dark energon can create its own class of zombies, but that’s all yesterday news to Megatron now, bearing witness to a FULLY SENTIENT zombie. Can you imagine what he’d do to get his hands on that kind of power?

Of cons to be infected, a single clone may have been the first but he’s not a big problem. When Soundwave is bitten in the fray of battle, he’s desperate to keep the problem to himself as not to affect their already panicked forces. However it is proving to be a problematic virus to keep a secret.

There’s quite a few side plots, it later derails some of the storylines. SoundWave undergoes devastating angst, the autobots have a way less depressing time, and have way more familial bonding WITHOUT a good portion of the souls crushing trauma.

[skywlker-sluvtt]

✊ and 🍷headcanon with anakin?? 💘💝💞

AHHHHHHH!!!! YESSSS!!!! and thank you for the hearts bb

anakin x afab!reader 18+ below the cut nsfw emoji ask game

✊ masturbation headcanon

✧ currently thinking about anakin who once visited a sex shop in the lower levels and purchased a fleshlight for himself. he walked in blushing and trying to hide his face. he wore civvies so no one knew he was a jedi and was quick to find a pocket pussy and buy it without looking the salesperson in the eye.

✧ as soon as he returned to the temple a pit of regret formed in his stomach. where would he hide this? how's he gonna clean it? what if someone finds it? he was close to throwing it away immediately. throwing it in a trash compactor or something.

✧ but the horny fuck just had to try it once. he unboxed it quickly locked his door and sat on his bed. his dick grew in his pants just looking at the silicone blue pussy. imagining how tight it would feel wrapped around his aching cock.

✧ slipping some lube in it he relaxed slightly pushing the toy against his tip and whimpering at the contact. anakin was already leaking precum as he slipped in further. the cold lube made him shiver before the lovely tightness became warm.

✧ he began using it thrusting in and out of it wildly. the smooth ridges inside attacking his cock in the most wonderful way possible. biting down on his pillow he whimpered and whined imagining it was a woman beneath him. he wondered if this was what a woman would feel like. because if it was any better than this he wouldn't last a second.

✧ anakin squeezed it tighter gasping at how good his cock felt inside of it. throbbing like he never had before. within a minute he was cumming deep inside the toy, sweating and groaning like he was possessed. slowly pulling out he looked at the silicone pussy and sighed now feeling fucking embarrassed he just did that.

✧ it's his new favourite thing in the world now tho until he meets you 😏

🍷 tipsy sex headcanon

✧ it isn't often anakin has the chance to get tipsy. drink one too many and feel a bit woozy.

✧ he and the 501st had been thrown a celebration in their honour off planet, for ending the many battles that were destroying the planet. the queen begged them to stay a day longer to celebrate. and how could anakin say no to such a kind gesture? since you were helping him on the mission he bought you as his date.

✧ he had one too many drinks after fives bought him multiple with the goal of getting his general shit-faced. you had to admit you were careful about the amount you were drinking either. it didn't take long till anakin had his arm slung around your shoulders.

✧ he incoherently whispered into your ear, the only words you could make out were "fuck me" and "find a room" you pulled him up and the two of you stumbled into a bathroom.

✧ "did i mention how kriffing pretty you look?" he slurred now only noticing the effects of those drinks fives gave him. "mmm no tell me more" you grinned pulling your panties down for him.

✧ "look better than anyone, even the queen. y'know you should be the queen" he chuckled gripping your hips firmly for some kind of balance. "come on ani! fuck me" you whine impatiently. he's slowly trying to work himself out of his many layers.

✧ when he finally gets it in you two end up fucking like rabbits over the sink. you both try to dirty talk each other just slurring and giggling incoherently. you could swear these were the best orgasms he'd ever given you, but that could've just been the drinks talking.

✧ while he has you up on the bathroom sink he's whining at you to pull his hair. anakin likes the pain a little too much when he's drunk, but who are you to judge. alcohol also makes him last endlessly, so be prepared for at least three loads 🤭

✧ when he's tipsy he was no control over how loud he is btw. fives and jesse were pissing themselves laughing down the hallway when they realised and were definitely going to bring it up the next morning.

[thevulturesquadron]

THAT LATEST EPISODEEEE

Okay okay I have many thoughts and I apologise if this is gonna end up very incoherent and disjointed but I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT BECAUSE AHHHHH

You know what the episode did very well (the writers, man)? Make the audience feel like they're taking crazy pills. There's this almost cognitive dissonance from the rest of the squad (Charles esp) with the way they say and behave because as Rogue stated "none of you were there". This is SO good in showcasing that you can be as understanding as you want, be literally a part of the same group... and STILL it's not enough because you didn't have the (in this case unfortunate) exact experience. The previous episode is a great addendum to this. The rest of humanity's (majorly the big wigs of course but you get what i mean) scared and at worst callous and apathetic reaction to the genocide. They're not scared because of what happened to those mutants, they're scared because of what Magneto would do in retaliation. Cooper is another example of how much actual experience can wholly change a person. She's not a mutant... but she was THERE. Erik and Rogue were there... right in the middle of it. How does anyone expect SOMETHING to not happen. You know who else saw what happened? Us, the audience. The latest episode felt frustrating and cathartic in the best way. It felt like decades of repressed righteous anger spilling in the most messiest manner, but it's OUT there. It needed to be said. Rogue's rant at the group before joining Erik, Erik's iconic "SHUT UP" line (yo lemme tell you istg i said the EXACT thing after that drivel Charles said). That's another thing that was so well done. Showcasing that no matter how well meaning Charles is... sometimes it feels like the dude's not LISTENING (Erik talks about watching a child be eviscerated in front of his very eyes, and I feel like all he's getting from others is an 'aw im sorry thoughts and prayers now can you please CHILL out') and does need this slap in the face. And the consequences keep piling up (the last big thing being what happened to Logan). Nothing will ever be normal and it's sad and scary and I'm very much looking forward to what comes next.

On a small note, showing how Roberto's decision was unsure with him trying to apologise to Jubilee and then his shocked reaction at her not wanting to hear him was so sad. It truly felt like a boy who only realised how massive of a consequence he's facing but just wanting his friend back.

I'm pretty sure I had more things to say and a more thoughtful way of saying them but anyway... 10/10. VERY ANGERING AND FANTASTIC. I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE LAST EP!!!

HI!!! ✨SAME!! 💜💜💜💜 thanks for coming in kicking the door down and shouting my way cause I needed that!! My brain has been stuck on a loop with the events in E9.

I love, love, love this episode exactly because of the strong emotions it made me go through. To see the division, to see where everyone stands, to see what matters most to them: what they are going through or an ideal? It. Was. So. Good! It was skin itching to see it at the same time. Each episode has continued to take me by surprise and go beyond my expectations.

I love how well the writers have been able to portray the difference between people who have been through horrible events, and those who have seen them ‘on screen’. Remember in episode 7 when Amelia said 'a survivor is the last thing I’d wanna be.’? Now it resonates even more than ever. It’s poetry. And yes, Cooper isn’t just someone who ‘saw it Magneto’s way’. No. She was one of the perpetrators caught in the middle.

So that when Scott goes around saying ‘Magneto is responsible for this.’ When Wolverine is out for blood - it should make you angry cause it feels like the crimes that Bastion has orchestrated are secondary to the X-men's agenda of 'righting a wrong'. Bastion is just a battle, another villain they need to defeat. But the call was coming from inside the house all along.

I’ve seen people online saying that this episode did Magneto dirty. But I think it’s the opposite. Magneto had always been capable of awful things in his pain and anger, but that’s not the point the writers are trying to make. The name of the episodes is ‘Tolerance is extinction’ - the whole point is to put the viewer in the uncomfortable position of understanding Magneto’s anger, but knowing his actions have big consequences, all the while making you lose your mind at how backwards and ignorant Charles' side seems. People are dying because ultimately his dream is more important than the people the dream is made for. And Rogue and Magneto are calling him out on it. The beauty of it is that Charles is preaching an ethical way where everyone matters, but how entitled and arrogant he must come across when everyone else around him is just ‘sacrifices he is willing to make’ for the sake of an ideal. It’s beautiful and awful that the cry for battle and survival is coming from the mouth of those that have nothing left but violence in them, while the champions of the just offer shackles and tell those that suffer to endure more for the greater good.

Yes this episode is supposed to make people angry and confused. And I think it succeeds.

If there is one less positive thing to say about the show, it's the pacing. You can feel that they were forced to put everything in just 10 episodes because there are a lot of moments throughout the show that are either missing or rushed. (For ex. in this last episode I would have liked to have scene with Rogue and Roberto on Asteroid M, in a similar fashion to what we got for the two X-men squads; just a glimpse at how things are impacting them instead of immediately seeing them in a 'villain guards' roles.) But I am not going to hold it against the show; from what they've delivered it reads a lot like cuts that they needed to live with.

[emilythedog661-tf2]

Bug Fortress 2 AU

So, back in the 20-teens, i saw many pictures of the TF2 mercs as bugs (Mainly Engineer as a bee and Soldier as a ant) and i would like to do my own AU of Bug Fortress 2.

First, i'll do the Characters and what bug they are

Scout - Fly

Soldier - Ant

Pyro - FireFly

Demoman - Cockroach

Heavy - Beetle

Engineer - Bee

Medic - Butterfly

Sniper - Moth

Spy - Spider

Miss.Pauling - Ladybug

The Characters are the same as humans but they have bug like things like antenna coming out if their head, a bug butt that looks like tails, wings coming out their back and some other things

now for the description of each character which i'll put under a cut as it's going to be long, so click 'keep reading' for the character description 😄 (also need to mention that the characters that are part of a colony like engineer, soldier, scout and others are all different from each other like people)

Ok, here are the characters

Scout - Scout is like his human counterpart, really fast flyer, annoying as a fly stuck in the house and not the brighter light in the shed, he like miss.pauling ladybug even trying to suduce her every tine he sees her but it always never works, scout is one of many flies but he's unique to the other flies as he is also half spider but his spider half hasn't appeared yet

Soldier - Soldier is a lone wolf ant after he was kicked out of his colony when he was a teenager, he is like his human counterpart being loud, stubborn but has a heart of gold, he was then alone for a while until he spotted a bee hive where he meets engineer bee who has a injured wing after it got caught on a tree branch, him and engineer bee become friends but soon go to lovers as soldier realised he gained a massive crush on engineer bee, the pair are now inseparable and are always seen together.

Pyro - Pyro is a firefly who loves to glow, he is like his human counterpart but except for loving fire, he loves glowing things like lights, he was on his own for a few days then he finds engineer bee and soldier ant who decide to take him in like he was their kid which he didn't mind, he also meets scout and the pair instantly clicked being like siblings to each other doing pranks and causing mischief.

Demoman - Demo is a cockroach who always walks like he's drunk, he has been declared to be invincible as he can never be squished or killed which ends up being mostly true as he is never killed but always severely injured which he has a drunk walk and one eye, he also good friends with soldier ant and was a good wingman for soldier ant when he was confessing his love to engineer bee.

Heavy - Heavy is a strong beetle who has won many beetle battle with other strong beetles but they were weak in his eyes, he has never been defeated and he's is strongest bug ever, he is like his human counterpart and has a good strong brotherly relationship with medic, scout and pyro but also being the calm one of the team when he isn't fighting.

Engineer - Engineer is like his human counterpart bing a hard working bee being the best bee of his colony until he decided to leave the colony after the other bees heard that he was hanging around a ant (soldier) which is forbidden in their colony as ants usually attacked their hive for the honey, engineer did try and fight for soldier saying he saved his life and he didn't want their honey but their weren't budging form their thoughts so engineer walked away with soldier by his side, engineer has soon gained his own family with the team and he almost doesn't regret leaving the hive only rarely getting homesick but soldier helps him get though it when he does, engineer has a good friendship with medic, is a good father figure to both scout and pyro like they're his kids and he loves soldier like they've been married for 10 or so years.

Medic - Medic is a psychotic butterfly who loves doing violence for fun, he has very beautiful wings and he is very much like his human counterpart, he also loves sniper who he met after he found sniper almost dead after he hit a fly lamp, medic healed sniper back to full health using pollen and the pair have been inseparable since, medic fell in love with sniper due to mainly his wings and he also loved sniper for how caring he was was towards him, medic has a good brotherly relationship with heavy, good friends with engineer and he likes being in the team.

Sniper - Sniper is a introvert moth who does like it be on his own most of the time but since falling in love with medic, he realises that he was very touched starved and craved affection whenever he sees medic, sniper is like his human counterpart and he gets on eith most of the others on the team, he just pefers to have more alone time, from the others, he tolerates spy, adores medic and act like they are newlyweds, gets on well with scout and pyro and he likes spending time with heavy as he's calm.

Spy - Spy is a sneaky spider who loves to kill and annoyed everyone around him just for the fun of it, kinda like his human counterpart, he is scout's dad and he finds out after scout explained to pyro one time what his mom looked like, he can't bring himself to tell scout as he knows scout would probably hate him for abandoning him but after finding out, he goes to visit scout's mom at night seeing she is as beautiful as ever, spy kinda gets on well with the others but like sniper, pefers being on his own, he tolerates sniper, tries to be good friends with the others and he is also a good leader to the team.

That's is for now and i hope you like my AU, i will do more soon on other AU when i think of them 😃

[thegreenthepeacetheorange]

Everlark (Mockingjay, Ch. 20-21)

(there's so much chapter 21 about the old peeta resurfacing and it feels like a reward for suffering through what this book has made me suffer through so far)

i take bogg's telling katniss to kill peeta as him just saying "do whatever you have to do to get the job done"

katniss being like um surely he doesn't think i can just kill peeta? like surely not. and then her literally being like i'm just gonna do the first two things he said and ignore the third

finnick putting on and adjusting peeta's mask while he's unconscious. the fact that katniss notes this. i cry

peeta realising he's killed mitchell hurts a lot. the capitol really turned him into something he's not. and he's fighting it so hard still

the compassion the other members of the star squad show peeta is actually very heart-warming, they're so understanding. finnick looking after him. holmes automatically going to carry an unconscious peeta so they can start moving again without being asked to. finnick reassuring him; actually everything finnick does. them refusing to leave him behind even though he is an actual threat to them

katniss thinking of the hanging tree while contemplating peeta's request that they kill him. the fact that she realises it might even be the more compassionate thing to do at this stage to give him nightlock. but the same way he says he can't let her take it at the end of the book, she can't do it here

"i feel the arena all around me... once again i'm battling not only for my own survival but peeta's as well"

i personally don't think katniss could have ever killed him. there's just no chance. when his survival is so intricately linked to her own. they're a package deal. and they fight so hard to keep each other alive.

peeta holding out the can of lamb stew to katniss. so mad we didn't get so many important moments from this book in the movies. they did a terrible job of showing the moments where peeta was coming back to himself. all his comments to the others, this moment

"the memories of rain dripping through stones, my inept attempts at flirting and the aroma of my favourite capitol dish in the chilly air. so some part of it must still be in his head too. how happy, how hungry, how close we were when that picnic basket arrived outside our cave."

OUR cave. like it was their first little home. first little intimate space just for them.

the fact that she paints this time in their cave as romantic and sentimental and picturesque. she's romanticising tf out of it. like she was in a death arena but in that moment, she was happy and close to him and that mattered so much to her

her hope at him returning to himself dripping off the page. that he remembers this.

(an aside: katniss being snarky about snow's puffy lips and saying his prep team need to be lighter with his blush is sooo funny)

in my catching fire summaries, i noted that katniss's desire to save peeta is actually a very selfish one. she's saving him for herself. because she wants him so badly to live. she wants him to be able to live more than herself. and the thought of him living while she doesn't is a personally comforting/happy thought for her. yes he deserves to live and he's a wonderful person but she's doing a lot of the saving of him for herself. because she NEEDS him to live. so her line here is interesting: "if it's true, it would be kindest to kill peeta here and now. but for better or worse, i am not motivated by kindness." - i think this is her essentially confirming what i believe or have gathered so far from what she tells us. saving peeta is not her showing him some great kindness. it's for her. she can't let him die for her own personal need and reasons. (and this isn't me criticising her, i don't think her reasons for saving him are selfish in a bad immoral way. just that she is a teenage girl in love with a boy and she desperately can't let him go)

she does the whole 'am i saving him because i care for him or because i don't want snow to win' but like it's been clear why she's been saving him thus far and continues to

"why can't i just let him go?" because you love and need him sweetheart. and you literally would not be able to live without him

and it's funny that despite all the emotion behind her reasoning, she comes out bluntly and says: so are you coming yourself or do we have to knock you out

"i slip it into my pants pocket, where it clicks against the pearl"

ugh. the key that keeps him restrained is now with katniss. her taking control of that part. the fact that it clicks with the pearl, reminding her of her boy with the bread who gave her this pearl that she's inseparable from. reminding her of exactly why she can't let him go, let him die.

peeta's comment to pollux when no one else can think of anything to say!! why didn't they include these things in the movies? auihfuaedhfufkeadh

the fact that his words are able to make castor laugh and pollux smile. he is so charming, so good-hearted, so good with people. and it's coming back. the boy with the bread is there, behind all that fog. he's there.

and again, katniss's hope at realising this. her glancing back at him. i can feel her emotions even though she's not always forthcoming with them

her wishing she could read his mind and go inside it to help him. settling on making sure he's eaten. taking away the lid so he can't hurt himself.

him saying mockingjays need wings to survive kinda feels like flirting/charm idk

"slowly, as i would with a wounded animal, my hand stretches out and brushes a wave of hair from his forehead. he freezes at my touch, but doesn't recoil. so i continue to gently smooth back his hair. it's the first time i have voluntarily touched him since the last arena" - never forget what the movies took from us!!

them smoothing/playing with/brushing back each other's hair has been a constant since the first book. an intimate thing, a comforting thing. and here, after all that's gone on, katniss knows what might help him sleep and she takes the risk of touching him. it could've gone so badly. but she still did it, for him. and for her.

him whispering "you're still trying to protect me. real or not real"... i want to hug him so bad. but he feels it. he feels her wanting to still protect him and he needs the confirmation.

protecting each other is what they do guysss

he has horrible circles under his eyes from not being able to sleep but, as katniss smooths his hair back, he falls asleep after a minute. do you understand how important this is?????

[askinkiskarma]

The Archer | Chapter X: Daylight (the end)

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX

Summary: As Neteyam comes back to life, the two of you have to decide how you want this new chance at a future to look like, and that means leaving some things behind in order to gain others.

Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader

Word Count: 15,5k words (wtf honestly)

Warnings/notes: it's over :'( , so many feels i'm drowning in them, smut (kinky, filthy smut, 18+ Minors DNI!!!)., cursing, mentions of blood and death.

A/N: 200,000 words later, the Cardigan series has officially come to an end. I have so many things I want to say, but I feel like no words would do justice to how incredible writing this story has been as an experience for me, how much it's meant to me and will continue to. I said in the first chapter of Illicit Affair that this is the first things that I have written that will ever see the light of day, and to see how many people have resonated with it, engaged with it, it has been beyond my wildest dreams (another TS reference, ha!). I will never be able to convey how grateful I am to literally each and every person that has liked, commented, replied, followed, reblogged. I know you probably hear that a lot, but I mean it from the bottom of my heart when I say I love you, and I thank you for giving me a voice, and a sense of community.

I have one more Oneshot I am planning to write for this story, which will be set in the future, and then I will be moving on, and starting new challanges. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and once again, thank you so so much.

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

And I can still see it all in my mind

All of you, all of me intertwined

I once believed love would be black and white

But it's golden, like daylight

You were almost on the brink of drowning as you came out of the vision, looking at Kiri, who met your gaze with a mirror of your own, wide and shocked, thrilled and ecstatic, hopeful and joyful beyond any reason. You struggled to keep your cool, to keep your mouth closed, when all you wanted was to open it and scream, scream at the top of your lungs, scream for all the world to hear that you did it. You got Neteyam back. He was dead, but you revived his heart, you restarted his body, you found him in Eywa, you led him home. You never realised how literal his nickname for you would ever turn out to be, but you were grateful, for now and always, to have someone who loved you, who understood you, who shared in your every pain and grief, in your every moment of relief, in your deepest fantasies and happiest hours, who thought of you so profoundly, your being so connected to his own that your existence would be intertwined for life, for all life, for every life you led.

Holding hands, you swam towards the surface and smiled as you saw Lo’ak and Payakan hanging out. Payakan was officially reinstated in the clan and in his tulkun tribe, after heroically helping in the battle against the Sky People. Still, he preferred being with Lo’ak most of the time, and preferred being on his own. It was a hard pill to swallow, but one you were forced to many times, that, in time, you learn to love your chains. You learn to rely on the solitude, to accept it as your own, as a friend and companion, and the imprints of the shackles still dig into your skin even after they are gone. It was a phantom pain, solitude, and even when it was gone, you still felt it, still craved it, still wonder how long it would be before it inevitably came back. 

As you surfaced, Lo’ak entire body jolted and turned in your direction, quite literally on the edge of his seat as his legs were hanging off his brother’s fin. His eyebrows were raised and his eyes were so wide, they were emanating light in the night darkness surrounding you, like little beacons in the sea. Both his palms were propped upwards, towards the sky in an inquisitive motion, and you could tell he was dying to know, dying to find out whether he still had a brother. You smiled in his direction, a wide smile that could barely scratch the surface of all the emotions trying you, but it was enough for him to understand, enough for him to jump up, and run laps on Payakan’s back, yelling and screaming in relief, much like you wanted to do, much like you felt you needed to. 

“COME ON, come on come on, let’s go!” 

You laughed at you brother and you saw Kiri rolling her eyes, but you all had tears swimming like little fish in the sea, and hope in your heart, and as you helped your sister onto Payakan, you knew you had to hurry, you knew there were very few thoughts or words that could encompass what you were all going through. 

The tulkun made quick work of the journey, the gentle giant surprisingly fast for his size, and in no time at all, you found yourselves near the entrance of your marui, hearing voices coming from the inside. You stopped still in your tracks, the increase in your heartbeat so quick it made the world spin around you and your knees wobble, until they felt like the tendrils of the Tree of Souls, deep in the Omatikaya forest. Why were you nervous? It was Neteyam… your Neteyam. You’ve been together for a year now, you’ve known each other your whole lives. Seeing him hasn’t evoked this feeling in you since you were 16 and so in love with him your heart thumped at the mere mention of his name, beads of sweat dripping down your body at his mere gaze towards you, electric shocks down your back and to each extremity at any mere touch he bestowed on your body. His presence still evoked these feelings in you, the raw physical reaction you had to him unchanged in time, but you were never nervous around him anymore. Your love was comfortable, evolving from a wild fire, setting everything ablaze in its wake, to a camp fire, providing solace and warmth, providing comfort and home. 

Why were you nervous? Maybe because going through those flaps, and seeing him alive would really allow the fact he was gone from this world, gone from your life to begin with, sink in. Maybe it is cause it will bring to focus how close to losing him, to losing yourself, you really were. Maybe it’s because you knew his fluttering eyes and his lips wrapping around each word as they left his mouth would bring you to your knees, would remind you of how your last conversation was a fight, a horrible, insidious fight and that in the meantime, in his absence, you lost so much, including the promise of a baby you knew he wanted more than anything in the world. How were you supposed to tell him? How would he react? Would he ever forgive you? Would you ever forgive yourself?

“Angel, you coming?”

Lo’ak waved a hand in front of your face while he gently shook you with his other one. 

“Angel, you ok?” 

You gulped audibly, then looked at him with panic deep set in your features. His eyes softened taking you in, and he pulled you into a hug.

“It’s going to be ok. We’re all going to be ok. You did it, angel. You brought him back to life. Now’s the happy part, you know? Now’s the good part. Come on, I’m sure he can’t wait to see you again.” He took your hand in this and pulled you behind him as he walked, and you allowed him to guide you, appreciating the little push, as you don’t know if you would have been able to make it by yourself. 

There was chaos in the tent, chaos that tired you, that reminded you how exhausted and depleted of every possible resource you actually were. Max and Norm were busying themselves with machines and medical equipment, no doubt trying to make sure Neteyam’s vitals are alright, that he was alright. Would there be brain damage? Would there be physical consequences for his coma, for his lack of oxygen when he died? You tried to focus on one voice at a time, to allow it to ground you to the moment, ground you to environment around you, as you felt lightheaded and close to collapse. You found the only voice that mattered, the only voice that you would recognise anywhere, anytime, in any plane of being, in any state of consciousness, in any body or mind, in any alternate or parallel universe. The only one. 

“I’m alright, sa’nok. I am here. I’m sorry.”

You’re still yet to see him, buried under all the bodies of your family members, all straddling and caressing his arms and chest and legs and feet, clinging to him like they didn’t want to let go - like they couldn’t. You got the impulse, you got how necessary it felt, how demanding a compulsion. You stood cowering in a corner of the marui, allowing them the moment you got in the spirit tree, allowing them to wallow the loss and rejoice the rebirth of their son, of their brother, of their hero. 

Your hands settled on your lower abdomen, flat and taut against your palms, that you cradled and caressed softly, imagining it soft and tripled in size, imagining your fingers pressing down on it to meet the little hands and feet pushing from inside it to feel you, to talk to you. You thought sadly about the baby that was gone, your baby, Neteyam’s baby, your little perfect bundle of joy, and looked at the way Neytiri and Jake hugged their son tightly, so much love and gratitude filling the air around you, so many tears and cries filling the silence of your home. You knew then that if that was your price to pay, if this was your burden to carry, you were happy to do it, happy to have been able to be even a small reason why this moment was unfolding in front of you. 

A son for a son. 

A little synchronised movement between all of them is all it took for you to come face to face with the man you loved more than all the stars in the night sky, all the stars adorning his beautiful body, that stiffened as he took you in, his golden eyes wide as they landed on yours. You held the breath in your lungs and counted. Nothing else mattered in this world, not ever, not anymore. Nothing but those eyes. Nothing but the soul that was reflected so well in them, like mirrors to the depths within him, that nobody knew like you did, like nobody understood in the way you could, just like you knew he knew you. Your twin flame. You melted at the scrutiny of his gaze, that now migrated to your hands, to your lower belly that you were still holding affectionately and his eyebrows raised taking it all in. A small sob escaped your throat at seeing him, finally seeing him, at him seeing you, finally seeing you, exhausted and cried-out and marked in bruises and cuts, in thick loin cloths that were dripping in a mixture of water and blood, all the way down the leg and on the floor of the marui. 

The entire family turned around to follow their son’s gaze, and when theirs landed on you, when it shifted in between the two of you, when the air became thick with tension and anticipation, in your grief and fear, in his confusion and hope, you faintly saw Jake motion everyone out of the room. Tuk came hurrying to your side, and you had to break your eye contact with your mate to kneel and take her in your arms. 

“Thank you!” She was crying, small hiccups escaping her mouth with every deep breath and her small arms encircled your neck so hard they were hurting you, but you held her, allowing her to cry it out in your presence, that you knew consoled her. You have always been scared of the eventuality of motherhood, scared of your demons getting the best of you and manifesting as bad parenting, scared of the possibility of hurting your child without realising, without meaning to. Scared to be a bad mother. But holding Tuk in your arms, knowing what you meant to her, knowing you were pretty much her second mother and have been for a while now, it put your mind at ease. It helped you deal with the mind-paralysing fear and to some extent, helped you be hopeful of a time when your own child will look at you the same way.

Neytiri got up from where she stood and approached you, her eyes so red and puffy there was barely any identifiable white in them, and your heart constricted in pain at the sight. She’s had to endure so much. She hugged you, so tightly her beaded top and jewellery were scratching painfully on your skin and you smelled the faint smell of metal as blood started pouring out of you. 

“You know, when I first saw you, you were the smallest thing I had ever laid my eyes on. So small, smaller than I could ever imagine a baby being. I stood next to your mother while she gave birth, and had to watch her scream in pain, scream so loudly I thought the whole forest would wake up. I was pregnant then, and watching her scared me, scared me for when I would have to give birth to my son. And when you came, you were bloodied, and covered in goo and a little wrinkled, but then, Norm and Max washed you, and I swear I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life. Not just you, but your mother. And the look she had on her face, the love I could feel all around me, the instant unbreakable connection, the unconditional bond that would transcend time and space, would always be more than any words can describe. I loved your mother, my girl. I loved her so much, and I promised to take care of you when she passed. 

Imagine my surprise when you ended up taking care of us, instead. I always knew you were special, but to watch you grow up, watch you become the reason my clan is rid of a disease that plagued it for years and years, watch you fight alongside us, complete your Iknimaya, become one of the people. Watch you bring my son back to life… my son, that you have been connected to since before he was born.”

You were both crying as she was caressing your head, pushing your hair backwards and stroking it gently.

“When I was very heavily pregnant, I came to see your mother. We met in the forest, and she brought you with her, you were just a couple months old, and they had just managed to make a little oxygen mask for you, so Marj wanted to show you the forest. We lay on the ground together, just talking, like we always used to do. And all of a sudden, you reached out your little palms, almost like you were searching, and you touched my belly. And you just kept your tiny hands there, on my belly, with a little smile on your face. We laughed about it at the time, but didn’t think that much of it. Until just a few hours later I went into labour, and had Neteyam not too long after. 

I thought about that moment since it happened, every time you two were together. Every time it felt like you two were one soul, split in half down the middle, meant to one day reunite and become one again. It was scary, and foreign. You were human, and he was Na’vi. You would never be one of us, I thought. But no one could deny the connection between you, not even the Tsa’hik. When you were young, your mother told me in confidence she is working on an Avatar for you. That she feels like you belong with us, you always have. That you belong with Neteyam. I agreed, but after she died, so did my hope for it.” 

She looked guilty and torn as she spoke. “I pushed him, I told him to leave you, to give you space. I told him to find a mate, I thought that’s what needed to happen, I thought it would help you both heal, it would help you move on from a love that couldn’t be, that was impossible. I am so sorry. I had to see you both suffer and know I caused this.” You took her in your arms again and held her, your turn to console her. 

“It’s alright, sa’nok.” 

“When Norm told us about the Avatar, I was so happy. So, so happy, it felt like this was always meant to happen, this was always meant to be. I knew then that you and Neteyam would always find each other, that I was right from the beginning. That Eywa willed it so. Eywa willed everything so. The Avatar, the impossible to make Avatar happened, and it could only happen to you, because you had to be one of us, you had to guide us, you had to be Neteyam’s light. Your hands brought him into this world when he was born, your light guided him, and then brought him back to this world, when we thought we lost him forever. It was you, always you.

I will never be able to repay you. But I will continue to be your family, your mother, for as long as I still can, for as long as you’ll allow me. I will always love you, and I will always protect you with my life, just like you have continued to for me, for us, for so long. Oel ngati kameie, ma’ ite (I see you, daughter).” 

Your mind was at a loss for words at Neytiri’s confession, at her love letter to your mother, to her son… to you. This woman, this incredible, strong, capable, beautiful, intelligent, kind woman has done so much for you, has given you motherly love you thought you would never feel again. She welcomed you in her life, in her family’s lives, she gave you a home and a cause and a reason to get up in the morning, and you never thought you would be able to give her anything that would be able to balance any of that out. You were beyond elated to hear that you did manage to give her something, that something you did helped her, brought her comfort and safety and peace. 

“Oel gnati kameie, sa’nok (I see you, mother). You and this family are everything to me, everything. And I will continue to fight everyday to be worthy of it. Of you. Thank you.”

You hugged each family member individually, and thanked Norm and Max for their invaluable contribution to your and Neteyam’s health, for always being such good men in the storm, for being the best extended family you could have ever asked for. You watched as every last one of them left, and, with a deep breath in, you turned your gaze to him, the only person in the world - now and always. 

“Hi.” 

His smile dazzled you, feeling the dizziness you have been struggling with for a while, the ache deep in your womb come back into focus and knock you to your feet. You walked slowly to where Neteyam was laying, every step a torture, every step a moment in which your body seemed like it was catching up to itself, catching up to everything it’s been through. Ever since your dad’s message, your body fought and fought, it withstood everything that was thrown at it. Fight or flight always did wonders for you, until it was time to crash, until after the world settled around you and the adrenaline, the stress diminished, and you could finally feel the overwhelming pain that was lurking beneath the surface. Neteyam reached a hand out to you when he saw how wobbly you are, but winced when the gesture tugged at the needles of the IV fluids currently flowing inside his body. You grabbed his hand into yours as you plopped yourself to the ground, and he inspected you carefully, sorrowfully, frown lines so deep you thought they would never go away. His eyes fixated on the thick, unattractive loincloths you were dressed in, that were still dripping on the floor from your swim, and his frown somehow deepened at the blood that was clearly visible on the material and that had dried going down your thighs. 

Your hands travelled all over his body, from the hand he reached out, up his arm and on his chest, over his every bruise and cut that was way underway to healing, to his navel and over his abs and up again, until they reached his neck and face, his face that clearly showed him awake and cognisant, clearly showed that he was back to you, back into your life that he was violently yanked away from, and seeing his expressions, his eyes, reminded you of the vacant ones he left behind that haunted your every moment, reminded you of his blood on your hands and Neytiri’s wails, of how every ounce of happiness and love just dissipated from you like water on a hot day. 

“I can’t believe you’re here.” Your voice cracked in the middle of the sentence, and hearing that voice, so defeated and broken, so much like how you felt inside, was enough to push you over the edge, enough to make you sob aggressively in his chest, grateful to be able to do this again, grateful for the way his arms found their way to your back and hair, that he was caressing gently, his touch everything you have needed for days that felt like years, like lifetimes that you lost, that you would never get back. 

“I’m here. I’m so sorry it took me so long, Atan. You’ve always been so much quicker than me, at everything. It always takes me a bit longer to catch up to you, but I am here. And I’m never leaving again, not without you.” 

“Promise?”

“Promise.” 

It took a long time for Neteyam to manage to calm you down, but eventually your heartbeat lowered to an appropriate rate and your breath stopped feeling like it was burning your lungs and you were so dehydrated from crying that that also stopped eventually. 

“I’m so sorry about your dad, Atan. So, so sorry. When I saw him in Eywa…” he couldn’t continue. “I am so sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you, so sorry you had to go through all this by yourself.” 

“Neteyam… I am the one that needs to apologise. I have so much to be sorry for, so much that I need to tell you. I -“ 

“You have nothing to apologise for. Nothing. The fight, what I said, what you said, it was all wrong. It all came out wrong. And you know… when I left you then, I was so sad, so unmoored, like it was a problem that we would never be able to solve, but then, as I watched Lo’ak leave for Payakan and knew that I would follow him into danger once more, no consideration for the consequences, no other thought outside of saving him, I knew it then you had been right to say the words you said. You were right. And if I want a family, if I want us to move forward, it has to come from me. I have to show you what you mean to me, that I’m here to stay, that I will keep myself safe as much as the people I love, so I can live to see my children grow up, the way I’ve always wanted to. So I am sorry. And I will be ready when you are, whenever that is. Whatever it is, we’ll brave it through together, and I promise I’ll be here for you, and I will be more careful.” 

You had no idea how much you needed to hear those words until they left Neteyam’s lips, but as you did, your whole heart lit up from within, and the light that shone through the cracks helped mend them, helped heal it, helped put it back together. You would be ok. You and him, you’d be okay. As long as you had each other, there’s no storm you couldn’t weather, including parenthood. 

“I need to tell you something. And I fear when I do, you’re going to hate me. And I’m so sorry. I am so sorry that it happened, because it took it happening for me to realise that I am ready, that I am not afraid anymore.”

“What is it, Atan?”

He struggled to sit up so you could be face to face, and despite your wordless protests, you helped, heart throbbing at his proximity, and his presence that enveloped your own like the warmth of a sun, and when it was done, you sighed and continued, feeling soothed by his thumb tracing your lips and the white luminescent freckles on your cheeks. 

“When the ship attack happened, the fight with the humans, the effort it took to get my dad away from it all, the stress of losing you, the effort of bringing you back… there was so much pain in me, pouring throughout my whole body, but I thought that was just from all the wounds, both physical and emotional, all the wounds I had to withstand in such a short amount of time. B-but…” You choked on your words, hoping and praying that by swallowing them whole you wouldn’t have to utter them, not have to say them out loud, not to him. Your hand involuntarily went to your abdomen, that you stroked mindlessly, and when Neteyam’s eyes followed your movement, a look of terror grazed his face. 

“I found out… I was pregnant. We were pregnant. The little being we wanted, the little bean I was so scared of, it had been there, and I didn’t even know. I didn’t even know until the stress and the pain and all the loss and grief running through every inch of my being took it away, away from me, away from us.”

Admitting this to your mate was somehow even harder than you thought it would be, and you found yourself once again collapsing on his chest, once again pushing out tears from a body that felt like it had very little water left to spare, but still it gave you its last remaining sources for this, knowing you needed it, knowing there was nothing else there, but the tears, to drown the emptiness you felt in your body, in your womb.

Neteyam was reeling at your words, so much shock and pain, no amount of painkillers pumping through his veins could keep up, could ever numb this feeling down. But, as he watched you suffer, convulsing with each sob that escaped you, he realised the grief he felt was for you, for how much you had to deal with, power through, all alone. To know that this is what was happening while he was revelling in a fantasy land with all of his heart’s deepest desires come alive, it killed him. The guilt he felt ate him alive and left only scraps in its wake, enough for birds to peck on until only the bones were left behind. He should have been here, should have helped you through this, you should have been able to mourn the loss together, feel its unbearable weight together. He felt tears gather in his eyes and spill down his cheeks and neck, looking at your thighs that were smeared in your blood, just like your loincloth was, knowing what caused it. 

“Please, please don’t hate me. I am so sorry. When they told me, I realised how much I wanted it, how much, despite everything I said to you that day, nothing would have made me happier than to watch myself get bigger each day, than to watch you beam with pride at the thought of being a dad, than to watch us trying to figure out how we’re going to do this, than to know no other baby has ever been so loved, so spoiled, so cherished as ours would have been.”

The tears were unrelenting, hearing your pleas, laced in anguish and terror. He took your face in his hands gently, moving it away from his chest, that was now soaked in your own tears. 

“Atan, look at me. Please? Please look at me. You crazy girl, how can you ever, ever think I could hate you? What am I supposed to hate you for? Because you fought on the ship? Because you tried to save your dad? Because you worked tirelessly to bring me back home? What kind of person do you think I am?”

Your sniffles were all that could be heard in this tent that has seen so much, too much, too many tears, too much pain and grief, that would be forever plagued by the Sully’s misfortunes, but that Neteyam was adamant to change. He was adamant that the tides were turning, and that the only cries it shall ever hear again were those of pure, unadulterated, incandescent happiness. 

“Come here.”

His hand wrapped gently around your throat and the action made you gasp, but he pulled you towards him gently until your lips met in a kiss that promised to heal you, to mend all these unconquerable torment and reshape it into hope and wonder. He was desperate for your touch, desperate to feel you, desperate to make up for time lost and past gone, but he wanted to wait - you both needed to heal, to mourn together and move on, and right now, you both needed to fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

Neteyam woke up groggy in light of last night and all the drugs being pumped in his body, but as he felt your back snug against his chest and heard your soft breaths, his mind cleared and focused, and he was able to notice the rest of the world around him, such as his dad’s snores and Lo’ak’s senseless sleep-talk, as well as Tuk’s little body tucked in yours, as you held her tightly in your arms.  He really felt the need to get up, and stretch his legs. He felt the need to see the sea, to breathe in fresh air and watch as the nature surrounded him, as the Metkayina got up and ready for the day. He missed it, he realises. Missed all of it. It was great to be back in the clearing, and have you, and see the two babies, but waking up in your arms, with your pheromones inundating his senses, seeing his family share his space, seeing people exist outside of him and his problems and grief - he missed it and he was happier by the second to be able to experience it again. 

It didn’t take a lot of movement on his part for you to stir in your sleep and open your eyes, immediately turning your head to look for him, almost as if you were trying to make sure he was still here with you. He smiled a little at your panicked expression and the frown that melted as soon as your eyes locked, and the smile you gave him, wide and serene, with your fangs poking through, made him finally understand what you meant when you told him humans say being in love feels like having “butterflies in your stomach”. 

“Good morning, yawne. God, it feels good to say that again.”

“Do you think we can go outside? Just you and me?” 

You looked at him with a flicker of concern, but nodded softly. You turned around and patted Tuk awake gently.

“Tuk-tuk, I need to go, can you please go sleep with your parents, baby?” 

Tuk whimpered a little, but almost sleep-walking, made her way in between his mother and father and instantly fell back asleep. You both snickered at the sight and he wished silently he could sleep that easily. 

You got up, wincing a little as you did, which Neteyam dreaded, and carefully removed the needles in his body. You held out both your hands to help him get up, and he felt grateful for your help as he realised he could barely move his body by himself anymore, deep pain and numbness throughout his entire being. It took a long time and a lot of effort to get him outside, and he felt ashamed about it, embarrassed at the strain required to do the most basic things. Neteyam prided himself on his physical prowess, something he had worked for his whole life. He was strong, powerful, he was quick and agile, he was fast and limber and right now, he was none of those things. 

With a sigh, he lowered himself on the edge of the platform, allowing his feet to dangle in the water, that was warm against his skin, a big difference to the ice cold water of the river in the clearing. 

“It’s going to take a while, my love. For both of us.” He noticed your hand moving once again to your lower abdomen, almost a necessity at this point. You did it so often, without even thinking about it. He pressed his hand on you, as well, imagining a little kick meeting his touch, imagining the swell of your belly as life grew inside of you. He was so sad about it, but tried not to dwell on it, as he knew this wasn’t meant to be, and when it was, it would make the experience even more meaningful in light of everything you both have lost. 

“Does it hurt, Atan?”

You nodded weakly. “The physical pain I can deal with. It’s everything else that hurts more.” 

“I know. But you are the strongest person I know. And if anyone can do this, it’s you. And I'm here. You don't have to do this alone.” He struggled lowering his body so that his head rested on your lap, but when he did, the comfort it provided alleviated any pain and frustration in his heart. He nuzzled his nose against your belly and pressed small kisses all over, and you laughed softly as they tickled you slightly. Your hand found his hair that you stroked rhythmically until he was so relaxed, he was on the brink of slumber once more.

“I think it’s time for you and me to go back home.” 

“What?” 

Neteyam’s astonished tone made you giggle a little, and you almost didn’t recognise yourself or that sound, having been so long since you last heard it. 

“I think we should go home. I think it’s time.”

“Atan… we can’t go home, you know that.”

“Yes, we can. We left because Jake wanted to keep us and the village safe by hiding. But they found us. We’re not safe, and we can no longer hide. And if we’re going to fight, if we’re can’t hide anymore, I’d rather do it back home, where you and I belong, where we’ve always belonged.”

“Neteyam… your last words were ‘I want to go home’. You want to go home, and so do I. Neither of us wanted to leave to begin with. We belong there, with the Omatikaya. Our children belong there. Our children will learn the ways of the forest, they will learn to hunt and shoot a bow and arrow, they will learn to climb the trees and the Iknimaya, they will get their own ikran, just like we did. I love this place, and this clan, I really do, and it will always have a special place in my heart. And we will visit. We will have to, considering our brother will be their Olo’eyktan one day.” You chuckled again at the though of Lo’ak, his newfound love for this clan and the chief’s daughter, and how even in this way, he is a carbon copy of his father. 

“Shit. I never thought about that.” 

“But our place isn’t with them. And that’s okay. Sometimes growing up is knowing what works for you and what doesn’t, and knowing when to let go of the people you love, for them to be able to grow and evolve on their own, and for you to be able to do the same. You’ve held on to Lo’ak your whole life, clung on to him, and on a quest to protect him, you lost your life. Lo’ak’s always felt alone back home, and he always felt like an outcast, but here, he’s free at last. Having found Tsireya and Payakan, he found himself as well. He’ll made a great Olo’eyktan one day, but in order to do that, he has to not feel like he’s always living in your shadow, in my shadow. So let’s just go, you and me. Let’s go home.” 

Neteyam’s mouth was agape in surprise and shock at your words. He struggled to comprehend what you were saying to him. Go home. Their home, their real home. They couldn’t do that… could they? Neteyam resigned himself months ago in knowing his home was a long forsaken dream, that he might never see again. He resigned himself in knowing he will never be truly himself again, in knowing he had to live without an integral piece of what made him who he was, an Omatikaya warrior, rider of banshee, son of the Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto, future Olo’eyktan himself. You said once humans had a saying, that home is where the heart is, and he felt that way most times, content in life as long as he had his family by his side, you by his side. But he didn’t agree fully to it - home was also where your clearing was, home was where he imagined his children being born and raised, home was in the trees and in the Hallelujah mountains, home was night rides with Seze and Neyn, home was where the Palulukan and Yarik and Talioang and Pali were, home was all of those things and more. And to have a chance to live in it again, have a chance at making his dreams and childhood fantasies come true, it was incredibly enticing, so much so his heart ached instantly just at the fleeting thought of it not happening. 

But how would it even work?! How would he ever be able to leave his family, his brother behind? His careless, stubborn, loving, amazing brother that he has spent every day of his life with, that he watched grow up so much in the mere few months they were in Awa’atlu, that finally felt like he had found his place, and Neteyam winced at the realisation him and his baby brother didn’t share the same idea of home. It pained him to admit that you were right, as you always seemed to be. Lo’ak’s home was here. The sea was his home, the sea would be his children’s home, before their birth and after their death, and Neteyam would have to watch from a distance, and get glimpses of the man his brother would grow up to be in time. He felt tears pricking painfully at his eyes. He was happy, so happy for him, that he finally found a place, found a family in Tsireya and Payakan, but he was saddened by the thought that, in the end, that family wasn’t him. Growing pains fluttered through his entire being as he realised childhood was over, and it was time to grow up, it was time to step up and be the adult that was needed, that would be able to take care of his own family, of his children and his mate. 

When you were younger, Neteyam saw you read a book that you loved dearly. Neteyam would listen intently as you talked about it, as you read him passages from that book and one of them always stuck with him as he made his way through life. He always wondered what it meant. 

“You will find little joy in your command. But with luck, you will find the strength to do what needs to be done. Kill the boy. Kill the boy and let the man be born.”

Now he understood. He finally understood that his death was the death of innocence and childhood, and it was time to let it go, and let new beauty, new life peer through, for new happiness to shine. 

“Let’s go home, Atan.”

════════════════════════════════════

It’s been a few weeks, and Neteyam felt himself getting stronger by the day, in no small part due to Norm and Max and their infinite patience in helping him heal, in helping him be able to slowly move his body again, his shoulders and arms. They said the journey to recovery would still be a long and strenuous, but that in time, he should be able to get the full function of his muscles again, and be as good as new. In those weeks, Neteyam watched blissfully as you were getting better, too, the bleeding close to completely gone. It was time. Time to talk to his family and let them know of the decision you two made, that only solidified in his mind in time. It was the right decision, the only decision. He wondered briefly if his parents would think the same. 

It was a good as time as ever, as the morning light beamed through the marui and filled it with warmth and patterns moving with the wind on the ground. It’s been a peaceful, calm few weeks and everybody could tell, the atmosphere serene and filled with laughter as his mother and sister were preparing breakfast for everybody. Neteyam saw you give him a pointed look, raising your eyebrows in their direction, and with a small sigh, trying to work up the courage, he cleared his throat and spoke.

“Ahem… everyone, there is something we wanted to tell you.” His heart started booming in his now healed chest as his whole family turned around and watched him intently. 

“What is it, ma’ itan?” 

He felt comforted by the feel of your fingers intertwining with his and the little squeeze that followed. 

“We’ve thought about it for a long time, and Neteyam and I want to go back home, to the forest.” 

His father’s mouth dropped, as did the rest of his family’s, and his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration as he sighed loudly and shook his head.

“Kid… we’ve talked about this.”

“No, Jake… we haven’t. We made this sacrifice because we thought it was the only way. We thought we were protecting the Omatikaya, the Na’vi, we thought by hiding we could keep this family safe. It didn’t work. The humans found us, the humans took so much from us. There is no hiding anymore, and we want to go where we belong, where we’ve always belonged.” 

“Dad… I know this comes as a surprise. But we are doing this. My whole life, I have spent giving up pieces of myself, pushing down my feelings and my desires, in order to be the version of myself I thought you wanted. The version of myself that I thought this family needed, the clan needed. But I’m no longer a child anymore, and no longer the future Olo’eyktan. I died, dad. My mate lost a baby, my baby, and I wasn’t even there. This will never happen again, I won’t let it. I want to be a good father, a good mate - like you are. I want to raise my kids in the forest, I want to fight for my clan and for my people that have raised me, that I have sworn to protect since the moment I passed my Iknimaya, since the moment I knew I was the son of the Toruk Makto.”

Neteyam looked at Lo’ak, who looked sad and angry. 

“I want to make it clear that I don’t expect anyone else to join us. This is something we have to do, but brother, you don’t. You… you’ve grown so much, Lo’ak. I watched as you found your place in this world, as you found your mate… your brother. The sea gives and the sea takes. You taught me that, brother. It took the forest away, and it took me away, but it gave you so much, and will continue to give you… strength, and a purpose… a family. And I will watch you become the man I always knew you could be. And when you become Olo’eyktan one day, I will know you are the best Olo’eyktan this clan has ever seen. A mighty warrior. A good leader.” Lo’ak’s face changed into a misshapen mess, trying to maintain his composure and not let the tears inundating his eyes fall, the way they were threatening to. Neteyam moved closer to him, patting him affectionately on the head.

“I’m so proud of you, Lo’ak. And I’m so sorry if my existence ever made yours more difficult. It’s hard for me to think of you as anything else other than my baby brother, but you are a man now. And it’s time to let you go. And I can’t wait to see you again, and get to see your incredible future unfold in front of my eyes.” 

Lo’ak said nothing as he slapped Neteyam’s arm away and pounced on him in a rib-shattering hug, and he was pleasantly reminded of the thousands of times his baby brother has done this when he was younger, back when his love for Neteyam was obvious and manifested itself physically, back when they were inseparable. Neteyam circled his arms around Lo’ak and patted his back and Lo’ak let out his sadness and frustration, years of pent up resentment and anger, years of feeling inadequate and isolated. They both needed this. The rest of his family quickly joined into the hug and Neteyam felt suffocated as his siblings and parents squeezed the life out of him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. It was time for all of them to heal, for all of them to grow. 

You took Spider’s hand in your own, the two humans who didn’t quite belong anywhere, but who had a family they loved and that loved them and you watched the beautiful moment unfold in front of you, happy tears slowly falling down your cheeks, your other hand resting, as it always was these days, on your belly, mindlessly caressing it. Being here, in Awa’atlu, surrounded by the endless ocean, has been painful for you, filled with emptiness and grief and loss, but oh-so-necessary. It had been something you all needed to go through, a time of discovery and growth, a time to break and a time to heal. You realised with a small smile that Tsireya was right. 

Water connects all things. Life to death. Darkness to light. 

You were almost done. Most of yours and Neteyam’s stuff was now safely tucked in Norm and Max’s helicopter, deciding you would give Neyn and Seze some freedom to fly as wildly and freely as their hearts desired. Both of the ikran were playing with each other in the airspace above you, their happiness so clear it was palpable. Seze was hard to budge from Neteyam’s side, so protective and desperate to ensure he wasn’t going away again anytime soon, so much so Neteyam had to order her away to play with Neyn. It turns out, Kiri has also been feeling similar to you and Neteyam, and despite how much she enjoyed being here, how much she enjoyed the water and the new flora and fauna, she too missed home, and her grandmother, and her Tree of Souls. So you watched as she said goodbye to her parents and to Lo’ak and Tuk, and held Spider’s hand as she put the rest of her stuff in the helicopter. 

It was a bittersweet moment. The whole clan was here to bid you goodbye, and you started with Ronal and Tonowari, that you owed for eternity for the way they took you in, for the way they give your dad his forever resting place. You approached them slowly and thanked them the best way you knew how, with an “I See You” and a ceremonial bow, that quickly turned into a hug when that felt like not enough to impart all the feelings you held inside. It was strange to them, and a bit out of place, but Tonowari was quick to adapt and reciprocate, while Ronal was ever the stoic, although she did wrap one arm around you in a moment of uncharacteristic affection. 

“Thank you. We will both miss you dearly.”

“Don’t be a stranger, nantutetsyìp (little human).”

“I won’t. We won’t. We will be here so often, you will get tired of us.” Tonowari laughed while Ronal rolled her eyes, but a small smirk was still apparent on her beautiful face. You reached a hand over to her belly, that you touched softly. 

“I can’t wait to meet this little baby. I will be her favourite aunt, that’s a promise.”

You moved on to Ao’nung and Rot’xo, that you punched affectionately in the chest. 

“Take care of my baby brother and sister. Or I will come back and I will show you how us forest people handle conflict.” 

You hugged them both, and were surprised to see the hint of sadness in their eyes. You will miss these knuckleheads. 

There was no hint in Tsireya’s eyes, as she was full blown crying in Lo’ak’s chest, and you had to pull her away from him so you could look at her and remove her tears with you thumb as you caressed her beautiful face. 

“Don’t cry, sister. We will see each other again soon. You have to visit, you have to come to the forest and see our home, you have to climb the Iknimaya with us. And when you come, I will show you the labs, and I will quiz you on all the English that Lo’ak should be teaching you. I don’t want you falling behind on our lessons, ok??” 

“Yes, sister. I will miss you so much, I wish you didn’t have to go.” 

She gave you two beautiful shells, almost identical, turquoise and dotted in white bioluminescent freckles, just like she was, and placed it tightly in your hand. 

“This is for your songcords. Both you and Neteyam have a place among us, you always will.”

“Thank you, Tsireya.” 

You turned your full attention to Lo’ak, who was once again, contorting his face so as to not appear weak in front of the girl he loved, and in front of the girl he used to love. 

“Take care of her, Lo’ak. And of yourself. You don’t have us to save your ass anymore, so you have to be your own older brother now, and Tuk’s. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Angel.” You were proud of how well you handled it, no tears up until now, but as you looked in the eyes of your best friend, of the boy who got you and your humanness in a way no one else really did, not even Neteyam, who shared your sense of humour and wild streak and your inclination for cheesy old school movies and TV shows, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

“Be safe. And visit, ok? And don’t forget us while you enjoy your endless walks on the beach and adventures with your new brother. Me and Neteyam still got dibs on you, do you understand?”

“Yes, Angel. I’ll miss you so much.”

“Me too, baby brother.”

Finally, you moved to Neytiri, Jake and Tuk, who both decided they would move between the forest and the reef, so as to spend equal quality time with all family members. They had no more responsibility, no more weight on their shoulders, no Olo’eyktan or Tsakarem duties anymore. They could just be for a while, enjoying the peace while it still lasted, and you were happy they could finally be free, at least until the humans decided to strike yet again. But the victory at Three Brothers Rocks definitely put a dent in their plans and budget, and you knew it would be awhile until that were to happen. You had time. You all had time. 

“We’ll be home soon, ok, kid? It would be great if you could clean the tent for us beforehand, ha!” You rolled your eyes at Jake, but laughed as you hugged him. “Enjoy retirement, pops.”

You moved onto Neytiri, who was so happy to know you were going home, and that so was she soon, ecstatic to see her mum again, to see the forest again. 

“Don’t take too long, sa’nok. Mo’at will not be happy to be kept waiting and I can’t live without Tuk for too long.”

“We won’t, ma ‘ite. Be safe. Eat well. Don’t strain yourself, you are not fully healed yet.”

You smiled at her motherly ways that she was never able to fully disconnect from, that you never wanted her to, especially when they were directed at you. “Will do, ma.”

You kneeled on the soft sand to take Tuk in your arms as held her as she cried. 

“We’ll see each other again very soon, my baby. Don’t be sad, you know I would never leave you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise, baby. Come here.”

You held on to your mate as you said one final goodbye to everyone, and then climbed onto Neyn and connected your queues, feeling her excitement overwhelming you at the thought of going home. I know, girl. Me too.

You felt your stress and anxiety melt away with every kilometre you got closer, with every tree that came into focus, until it completely melted from your bones at the sight of the forest in the distance. You looked at Neteyam, who was smiling widely, relief so transparent and obvious on his face, and you laughed at how it was mirrored on Kiri and Spider’s faces as well. You felt free. Free at last. You knew they did, too. 

════════════════════════════════════

Neteyam woke up like from a reverie, like from the vision in Eywa, back in your tent, in both your tent, and felt like he was floating. He looked at the fabric and counted all the dots in it through which light blinked carelessly, and felt warmth envelop his body as he tightened his grip around your sleeping form. It’s like he never left. Your home looked exactly the way you left it, both of you having spent a few days getting it back to this point. He glanced around, at the bows now back in their stand, at the quivers and the guns, and he hoped it would be a long while before they had any use for them again. He looked at your desk, and smiled to himself at how you did a happy dance at seeing them all again and having it all back, all the books your mother spent her whole life collecting and keeping close to her heart. He peered at the mirror you looked at every morning before you went outside, and the two songcords that were back where they belonged, hung on it, one on top of the other. It was hard to picture the life he left behind, hard to imagine the reef as anything but a dream, a hallucination. 

As he pressed a small kiss on the top of your head, he saw you turn to face him, wide golden eyes and pearly whites the only thing he could focus on as he took you in, in all your unbelievable beauty. Your gaze turned primal as you continued to look at each other, need enveloping you both like a thick blanket you wanted to get lost under. It’s been so long, so long since he had you, so long since he took you, so long since he claimed you the way he knew you craved, the way you both craved. You both found solace in each other’s bodies, in the way your individual needs were only met in each other - his need for control, your need to relinquish it. Even in this way, you were perfect for each other, made for each other. You were his match and he was yours.

His cock throbbed in need, in desperate need to fill you to the brim until you were dripping in cum, until you were swollen and sore, until you were begging him to stop while pushing him deeper in you. It drove him mad, your look, the way your pheromones were flooding his nostrils, the way the sound of your pounding heart matched the twitching of his hard member, the way the smell of your arousal was so thick, sweet and floral, he could feel it on his tongue. 

It took every scrap of self-restraint in him to not rut into you like a feral animal, but he had other plans and the surprise he had planned had to take precedence. 

“Atan… I need you to be a good girl for me and wait until tonight… can you do that?” 

You whined as you threw a leg over his hips and started grinding yourself slowly on him. 

“I have had to wait for weeks. Weeks, Neteyam. Weeks in which the only thing I could think of is your cock so deep in me I start to see stars.”

Neteyam growled, a deep guttural growl and removed your leg from him. 

“You’re gonna make me fucking crazy, Atan. But if you are a good girl for me, I will make it worth your while. And I will indulge your every whim… All. Night. Long.”

You threw your head back and moaned, and after thinking about it for a while, you eventually relented. 

“You better make it worth my while, or I’m gonna have to start without you.” 

He shook his head and kissed your nose affectionately. “I love you, my crazy, insatiable fiend.” 

Your patience was not one of your more formidable attributes, Neteyam thought tiredly as he was helping you onto Seze, a big frown on your face. You were definitely needy and desperate, and have been the whole day, which made it Neteyam’s day hell, having to push you away every 5 minutes, having to keep a level head for the both of you. You’ve been asking him about the surprise the entire day, testing his patience that he felt like he had infinite supplies of at the moment, thankfully. Eclipse finally settled and the mountains glowed with iridescent hues, that Neteyam made a mental note never to take for granted again. 

“Are we going to the cave? Or to the clearing? I thought we couldn’t really go to the clearing again?” 

Neteyam sighed for what felt like the millionth time today, and got behind you on his ikran. 

“You are a pain in the ass sometimes, you know?” 

“But I’m your pain in the ass, remember?” 

Neteyam made Seze land deep in the forest, in a place that was very familiar to both of you, and he knew you would know where you’re going as soon as you saw it. 

“So we are going to the clearing. I knew it.”

He grabbed your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, his other hand moving to your jaw as his lips closed over yours. You moaned and immediately deepened the kiss, to which he laughed. 

“We’re almost there, Atan. Come on.” 

You growled and threw your head back, but followed him without saying another word.

You knew you were being annoying. You could feel yourself being annoying, but you couldn’t stop, not when you have been unhinged with need the whole day, the whole month, since before that fateful ship attack and all throughout both your recoveries, throughout the journey back, throughout settling back in the forest. You still didn’t know what this was. You knew it was a surprise, but you didn’t know what it was or why it was. You were pouting now, walking pointedly towards your clearing, and you tried to relax and get excited about the fact you haven’t seen this place in so long, way before you even left for Awa’atlu, out of fear that humans might find you here and take you away.

You looked around you, at the beauty of the forest and the glow surrounding you, at how your each step was illuminated by the ground your feet were touching, and the howls and sounds of the nocturnal creatures coming out to play, the soft hum of the insects and the chirping of the birds. You loved all of it, missed all of it so much, a symphony that felt like that background music to your life’s story. As you pushed past the trees into your clearing, you gasped, the breath knocked out of your lungs at the sight. A red woven blanket was placed on the ground, pillows and covers enticingly waiting for you to snuggle in. You stared in awe at the huge holographic screen projected over the river, currently stopped at the introduction scene of Pride and Prejudice, your favourite book, the one you still had by your bed in the tent, the one whose covers were falling apart at the seams.

“Neteyam… what is this?” 

“It turns out, believe it or not, that I have been lucky enough to call you mine for a whole year now. Actually, it’s been a lot longer than a year, but our actual anniversary fell at a bit of an inopportune time, since you know… I was dead. And afterwards, we were both reeling, and grieving our loss, and healing our bodies, and when you told me you want to go home, I knew I should wait and do this properly. And so this is what I’m doing.” 

“I wanted to thank you, Atan. I don’t think I say this enough, but thank you. For having been my light since the moment I was born, until the moment I died, for guiding me back home, to you, every time I lost my way. For giving me a reason to be better - a better friend, a better sibling, a better son, a better man, a better mate. My whole life, I have looked up to you. My whole life, I saw in you the person I knew I wanted to be worthy of one day. I have watched, in awe, every day, as you became the most intelligent, caring, incredible, beautiful person in this world, a person who struggled so much, and went through so much grief, a person who carried so much darkness inside, and yet managed to emanate only light all around you, in everyone’s life. I have watched you be my sister’s best friend and confidante, my brother’s shoulder to cry on, my baby sister’s hero and my parents’ biggest critic and supporter and every day, I grew more in love with you. I have been by your side my whole life, and not one moment did I not love you, did I not hope that I would never have to be parted from your side, for as long as I lived. You have been the woman I have been madly in love with since I was 15, and the woman I hoped and prayed could one day be the mother of my children. I am so eternally grateful for every moment I get with you, every moment I get to watch you, every moment I get to wake up next to you, I get to look at you and know that nothing will ever change between me and you, between this formidable happenstance we call our love.” 

You were sobbing violently at his words, that made you feel so special, so loved and appreciated, that healed every hurt in your soul, that mended every crack in your forever broken heart, until there was only love, the love you felt for him, for your relationship, for the lifetime of memories you have made together, for the lifetime of memories you’re yet to make. He took you in his arms and held you, caressing you gingerly as you cried and sniffled in his chest. 

“I have a gift for you. Actually, I have two gifts.”

“I thought this was the gift.” 

“No, Atan.” 

You removed your head from his chest and waited as he went to the blanket and removed two things from underneath the covers. The first was a book. You took it in your hands with a confused look on your face, that quickly turned stunned as you read the cover. Pride and Prejudice. It was your mum’s book, but the cover was different. It was new. Made of wood, the woodwork detailed and intricate, with flowers and patterns, as well as a carving of the Bennett house as depicted in the movie that was currently paused on the screen. 

“This is actually cheating a little. This was the original gift I planned for your 17th birthday, that I never got to give you. I started the covers, but never got to finish them, and after I left, I thought I’d never get to give them to you. When we came back, I thought it would be the perfect time to finish it, and Norm and Max helped me bind the book. I know how much you love this book, and I know how sad you were that it seemed like it was falling apart. So hopefully now it will have a really long life, long enough to pass on to our kids, and their kids after that.” 

You always wondered about your life, about how it seemed so out of balance, so filled with sorrow and pain. You realised now, as you’ve always suspected, that Neteyam was the counterweight. Your good karma. He was what made all the sorrow and pain bearable, what made this life worth living, still so unbelievably beautiful, and exciting, and good. It was him. He was your gift, the Universe’s gift for all you’ve had to suffer through. You had no words that could convey what this meant to you, what his words and the gestures and this night will always mean to you, so you just kissed him, hopefully able to convey it to him in this way. He chuckled a little as the kiss came to an end. 

“You’re welcome, Atan. Here, your last gift.” He gave you a big cork board, and you recognised it faintly, it was a board that used to be in one of the labs you grew up in. Except now, it was filled with a collage of photos, photos that used to be hidden in your Pandora’s box, back in your old bedroom, where you kept all your secrets, all the things you were too scared to ever deal with. Photos of yourself as an infant, as a toddler, as a child. Photos of you and Neteyam, of your mum and dad, of the scientists, of the Sully family. And new photos, that you were seeing for the first time, of yourself, sleeping or hanging out with your siblings, laughing animatedly with Jake. Photos of you sleeping snug against Neteyam, photos that he obviously took in secret. 

“When did you take these?” 

“My dad has a camera that I use sometimes when you aren’t looking. Out of every human invention, I definitely think I like the camera the best. It’s amazing to be able to have these moments captured, forever. I have been collecting the pictures for months, and as we came back, I was able to print them in the lab.” 

You looked at the gap that covered the bottom right quadrant of the board, and looked at him expectantly. 

“That’s for all the new memories we’re going to make. It’s for when our children are born, for when we become aunt and uncle to all our little nieces and nephews, it’s for the amazing life we still have to live. I thought we could hang it in our tent, so you can look at it every day and be proud of everything you’ve achieved, Atan, of this incredible life you’ve led, that is only a tiny speck in the sky of the rest of our lives.” 

You smiled up at him, still in shock at everything he did, and all the thought he always put in his gifts, at how much he loved you, at how much you loved him. He took the gifts from your hands and left to put them by the blanket, away from view.

“Do you want to watch the movie? Or… are there better things we could be doing beforehand?”

You looked at him through your eyelashes, your vision blurry from how badly you needed it, how badly you just wanted to be fucked, like it was the first time, the only time.

"I'll take that as a yes."

His eyes darkened, pupils so dilated there was barely any yellow left in them, and he stalked towards you like a predator, like you were his pray to hunt, to take, to kill. You were panting in anticipation, your frilly beaded loincloth soaked in your arousal, that has been continuously pouring out of you all day, so saturated it was trickling down your ass and thighs. You couldn’t believe this man, couldn’t believe he was yours, yours to keep, yours to admire, yours to fuck until you blacked out, forever. He only stopped when he was so close to you, his breath was fawning over your face, and his smell, his musky, woody scent hit you instantly, making your tempestuous need uncontrollable. You raised on your tiptoes to bring your lips to his, but he stopped you, wrapping his long fingers around your throat and squeezing until the air left your body and the asphyxiation made you dizzy. 

“No, Atan. You’ve been a good girl so far, you don’t want to ruin everything at the last second, right?” 

He let go of your throat and you gasped, the sudden burst of pleasure making you moan and push your thighs tightly together, as the throbbing deep within you was so intense it was starting to hurt. 

“Fuck, Neteyam. Please, I just, I need you to fuck me. Please.”

“God, I love it when you beg. It drives me fucking crazy. You drive me crazy. I have needed to feel you, feel that pretty little pussy milk me, squeeze me, drench my cock in your cum for so long. I’m going to make you feel so good, Atan. I’m not gonna stop until you beg me to, until you’ve come so many times you pass out with my cock still deep in you. How’s that sound, mm?” 

You were almost done just at his words, the power they held over you unspeakable, the power this man had over your body still astounding you, a year later. You had no words, just moans, but it was not good enough for him. His hand squeezed around you once more and you were gasping for air that wasn’t coming, not until he allowed it. 

“I asked you a question, Atan.”

“Fuck. It sounds amazing, i-it sounds so good, Neteyam. P-please. Fuck.”

“That’s my girl.” 

The hand that wasn’t tight against your throat went to the back of your head, taking a fistful of your hair and pulling roughly on it, until your head was thrown back, and you felt a dull sting of pain when his canines dug into your throat, until blood came out and you went feral at the feel of his tongue licking over it, at the thought of it coated in your blood. You were reminded that the remnants of your blood were still circulating through his body, another way through which you owned him, you possessed him just like he did you. He kissed you, roughly, tongue darting over your lips and you opened them, drove to the brink by the taste of metal, of your blood on his tongue, in your mouth. You moaned in the kiss and he smirked, and you knew he loved seeing you like this. Panting, begging, mewling like a little bitch, desperate for his touch, desperate to be fucked unconscious. 

He lifted you effortlessly off the ground and knelt with you in his arms until he placed you on the blanket, your back loving the feel of the warm, fuzzy fabric. You reached behind you to grab a hold of your queue and brought it forward into his line of sight, and he smirked again as he did the same. 

“You want to feel what you do to me? How fucking wild you drive me? How deeply you own me, how badly I need you, Atan? You want me to feel your mind going blank as I bottom out in you, as I lick every bit of the nectar dripping in between your legs? Is that what you want?” 

“Yes, fuck. Yes. Please.” 

“Good.” He connected your queues and the influx of feelings, of desires, of savage, untamed emotions was almost too much for you to bear, eyes rolling in the back of your head. It was his turn to moan and the noise sounded so much better coming from his mouth, his deep voice reverberating deep within you, driving you one step closer to release. 

He skilfully removed your clothes and his own, leaving you with a glorious view of his incredible body, of his defined abs and bulging biceps, of the v-line that lead to his large, beautiful cock, rock hard and so swollen it was deep purple at the tip, slapping against his abdomen, leaking precum that you were dying to lick off it. 

“You are so beautiful, Atan. You are fucking perfect. I can’t believe you’re mine. I can’t believe my luck. I promised I would make it worth your while, let me show you I keep my promises.” 

He lined himself to your entrance, that was gushing in need, and you mewled as he teased you, slapping his dick against your folds, grinning like a devil. You arched your back and shut your eyes, deep frown lines on your forehead, that was already covered in a thick layer of sweat. He grabbed your jaw and pushed your head down to meet his wild gaze. 

“Look at me. Look how I fill you up with my cock, Atan.” Your eyes drifted down to where your bodies met, and you struggled to maintain you gaze as each inch of him was being buried in you, eyes fluttering open and close, the feeling too much, too intense. You felt yourself being stretched to the brim, until the border between pleasure and pain was delightfully unclear, until his tip hit your cervix, until his girth pushed against your g-stop, until your walls were contracting at the sensation you have been deprived of for so long. 

“Fuck, you take me so well. So, so good for me, baby.” He didn’t move, and you felt through the bond the intensity of his own feelings, so much love and care, so much need and desire in him and you waited, getting lost in this feeling, getting lost in the pleasure that so good, it was getting unbearable. 

“Move, Neteyam. Please, move.”

“I need to feel you first, baby. I need to feel the way my cock stretches your needy cunt, I need to feel the way your walls are throbbing around me, I need to admire the bulge in your abdomen as I fill you up. Look at it.” He pressed where the little bulge formed by his impressive length was visible, and as he did, you somehow felt even fuller, and once again you felt the need to close your legs, to try to get some relief from the torturous wait. 

Taking pity on you, Neteyam started a slow, maddening pace and he smiled when he saw tears in the corner of your eyes at how desperate you were. Without warning, he started rutting you like the little slut you were, like the way you have been begging for, and almost immediately your first orgasm washed over you with enough power to knock the air out of you and he didn’t stop, not when it was done, not until you came again, and again, and again,  until tears were falling down your face and into your ears at how overstimulated you were. 

“Neteyam, I can’t anymore.”

“Yes, you can, Atan. Come on, just one more and then I’ll fill this pretty pussy with my cum. Do you want that? Want me to fill you up real nice? Want to be dripping in my cum, want the whole village to smell me on you?” 

At his words, at the picture he painted, you felt the pleasure coil in you again, and you knew this orgasm would hit you like a tidal wave, keeping you on the ground with no power to get back up. 

“Y-yes, I want it. I want it so badly. I want your cum, fuck, I want it.”

“You want me to give you a baby? Want to make me a daddy?” 

“Y-yes. Yes, I need it, need your cum in me, please.” 

“Fuck yeah, baby. Take my cum, like the good little girl you are.” 

You both moaned as you came, the liquids in you mixing and spilling out of you, over your ass and onto the blanket. You didn’t know if it was all you’ve had to endure, or how long you’ve been without it, but this was definitely the best orgasm you ever had.

“I agree.” 

You laughed loudly, and looked at him affectionately. 

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I can feel you, Atan. I can feel the pleasure that washed over you, more intense than you have ever felt. I feel the same.” 

He pulled out of you, and pecked you gently on the lips. As you were trying to get up on your elbows, he pushed you back onto the blanket and you fell backwards with a soft thud.

“Where do you think you’re going? I’m not done yet. I told you I will indulge you all night long, didn’t I?” 

“Neteyam, are you not going to be happy until I pass out?”

“Isn’t that what I told you, baby girl? Did I fuck you dumb already?”

How were you still so turned on? How was your cunt still throbbing in need when you’ve lost count how many times he’s made you come already? You loved it when he was mean, such a stark contrast to the peck from earlier, to his usual demeanour, to his real, day-to-day self. You loved it, it made you squeeze against thin air, feeling the need to be filled once more.

His hands wondered over your whole body, over your breasts that he caressed and pinched until you whimpered, until his fingers were replaced with his tongue, the ministrations making you grind your hips against nothing, the noises coming out of your mouth more unholy with each second that passed you by, each minute that he was sucking and licking every inch of skin he could get his fingers and mouth on, until he reached your folds, still leaking a mixture of both your cum, that he lapped at like he had been starved, like this would cure the drought plaguing his senses. Your senses, on the other hand, were plagued by him and his skilled tongue, and the way it was pushing into you, sucking on your abused clit, until your walls were clenching once more. He pushed two fingers in you effortlessly, curling them to touch that spongy part in you that made you cry out in pleasure, and the stimulation was too much, the coil in you close to snapping again, your hips grinding on his face roughly. The animalistic moan he let out pushed you over the edge, and you squirted on his face, down his chin and nose and he laughed proudly as he licked it all off. 

“That’s my good girl.”

“How about we watch a bit of the movie and then I fuck you again?” 

You laughed as he made his way next to you and you cuddled up close to his chest. 

“Yes…daddy.”

════════════════════════════════════

Your family was in a tizzy today, preparations unfolding all around you for your upcoming trip, that you were supposed to leave for any minute now. It wasn’t going to be a particularly long trip, but it was definitely an important one, one that had you giddy with happiness and excitement. You were already packed, the clothes, gifts and medical supplies once more tucked away at the back of Norm and Max’s helo, both of whom were accompanying you, as well. Although never quite part of the people, both of the scientists were honorary Na’vi at this point, their continuous support, love and care for this planet and all its inhabitants not gone unnoticed, even within the Metkayina clan, who have taken a liking to the two. 

“Kiri, don’t forget the thing, the thing…” Jake was pointing aggressively on the floor at something by his daughter’s legs, and you laughed at how nervous he seemed. It was endearing and a little surprising, seeing how Jake was usually quite stoic and well put-together, especially when it came to his two boys. That has changed in the past few months since you returned home, the distance that always existed between himself and either one son or the other softening his rough edges, making him more open and affectionate to both of them. You guess it was true what they said, after all - absence does make the heart grow fonder. 

With one last smile in their direction, you quietly exited the tent and got up on your ikran, who cooed softly in your direction. She has been particularly gentle and tender with you recently, and you couldn’t tell if her having laid tiny ikran baby eggs was the reason behind it, or just general happiness and gratitude at your decision to return her to her home. Either way, you were grateful, and so, so excited to meet her babies when they were going to be here, fantasising about the idea that her babies and your own would one day be united, the same way you were. 

“Let’s go, baby girl. There’s one last stop I need to make before we leave.”

You got to the Tree of Souls easy enough, having visited so often recently you could make the trip with your eyes closed. You swore it would never be as long as it used to be for you to visit your parents, for you to keep in touch, to see them and talk to them, to make sure they knew they were missed and not forgotten. You wanted them to be part of your journey, in a way they never could before, and you were happy to say that regardless what was happening in your life, you came once a week without fail, nothing able to keep you away. 

The cove wasn’t desolate, several Na’vi lost among the tendrils, connecting to their ancestors, to their loved ones, to people they lost. You greeted each of them, all of them looking at you almost in awe, at the girl whose parents came from the stars, who stole the Toruk Makto son’s heart, who cured an illness that pillaged from them, that took away so many Na’vi men, women and children, including some of the people that were being visited today. 

You chose a part of the tree than was unoccupied, and connected your queue to one of the mauve tendrils swinging gently in the breeze. You were immediately transported in a place you were now very familiar with, your mother’s old house back on Earth. The humid heat hit you instantly, as did the smell of the ocean and the cold breeze that pushed sand into your nose and eyes, and you took a second to take it all in, as you always did, the beauty of Earth, so different and yet so similar to Pandora, always a treat, always worth the extra few minutes of reflection. You pushed the fence door and made your way to the house on the broken cobblestone path, and smiled as the sound of a piano playing could be faintly heard from inside. You didn’t bother to knock, and took your time walking through the narrow hallway, looking at all the photos that were hanging on the walls, a lot more than you remembered from your first visit, including new ones, one of you, human and grown up, in between your two parents that were smiling widely at the camera. Photos of you in the living room you were currently walking towards, playing piano and dancing with your father, propped with your feet on his as he swung you around. Photos of your mother rolling her eyes as she was caught mid-cooking, and a photo of your parents kissing on the beach, taken by you (you assumed) without them knowing. They were beautiful, so beautiful, just like they were. 

“Bunny! You came!” Your mum got up from the couch as soon as you entered and ran to your side, hugging you loosely so as to not hurt you. 

“Of course I came. Don’t I always come?” 

“Yes, but we expected you in a couple of days.”

“I can’t come in a couple of days, ma. We are leaving for Awa’atlu soon, remember?” 

“Ah, yes!!” Your mum face-palmed herself and you laughed at her. She was a little ditzy, you realised. You never realised that as a kid, but it was blatant now, more so by the week. Your dad joined in the laughter and came by your side, placing a small kiss on your cheek. 

“Hi, love. Are you excited for the journey?” 

“Eh, not for the journey, but definitely for the occasion. Thank you for the gift idea. He’s going to love it.” 

“Of course, bunny. How often does Lo’ak get to take his Iknimaya and become a man?” 

“Well, hopefully just the one.” 

They both laughed in unison at your joke. 

“I can’t believe how much he’s grown. God, he used to drive Jake crazy when he was a toddler, he would just run and run and crawl through tight spaces, where Jake could never fit through. He was an angel when Neytiri was around, but as soon as she left, he terrorised his dad. Poor Jake hasn’t had a good night sleep since the second Lo’ak came out of Neytiri.” 

“Well, that hasn’t really chanced. But he’s bigger now, so he’s easier to catch.”

The laughter was music to your ears, and you dreaded knowing you’d have to leave soon and not see them for at least a week.

“Where’s little, puny me?”

“Don’t call her that.” Your mum frowned at you, and you snickered at her face. You and… well, you, got along fine most of the time, but you realised that you were incredibly annoying and having to see yourself every week made you more appreciative for Neteyam and his never-ending patience. 

“She’s taking a walk on the beach. She loves doing that. She’ll be sad she missed you… and this little belly… I could just eat you, you know?” 

“It’s not that little anymore.” 

You placed your hands over your mother’s on your belly that was becoming exponentially larger by the day, and she squealed when she felt kicking meeting her palms. 

“Oh my God, do you feel that?” 

“Of course I feel that, mum.”

She scoffed at you, but she was too excited to rebut, too busy taking your dad’s hand and placing it where hers was. The baby kicked again and you winced, and felt the sudden urge to pee. 

“I need to go. We have to leave soon. I’ll be back as soon as I can, ok? Tell her I said hi, and that she better catch up on all the songs I learnt after I died.” 

“Bye, bunny. Say hi to Lo’ak and the rest of the family for us.” 

When you came out of the vision, you felt arms circling you, and you smiled as Neteyam’s familiar scent filled your every sense. 

“Hi.”

“Hi, Atan.” He was pressing small kisses down you neck, while his hands wandered on your body, from your breast, now full and barely covered by your increasingly small tops down to your belly, and he gasped silently when he felt the same kicking your parents did. 

“He’s kicking! Oh, Great Mother, he’s kicking!” He took you by the shoulder and spun you around and you laughed a little as the action made you dizzy. 

“We don’t know it’s a he yet, yawne.”

“I know.” You raised an eyebrow at him, but said no more, and watched as he lowered himself to your belly and looked at it in adoration, like he was venerating it, venerating you. 

“Hi, ma ‘itan. Be gentle to your ma, deal? We don’t want to hurt her.” He showered you in kisses until you melted in his touch, and by the time he reached your face, you were panting and in need. Neteyam groaned as the smell of your arousal hit him. 

“Atan, we have to get going, my dad’s already out of his mind with worry and excitement, and my mum keeps packing food, to the point the ikran are going to drown in the sea because of the overbearing load. We are the only sane ones in the family now, we have to act like it.” 

You threw your head back and laughed heartily, at his words, and at his tone that sounded serious, not an ounce of humour in it. 

“Fine. But when I’m hot and bothered for three days during the trip there, I don’t want to hear you complain.” 

Suffice it to say you were late to get going. 

════════════════════════════════════

As you spotted the familiar island of Awa’atlu, you heard the beautiful horn announcing your arrival, and felt emotion overtake your being at the thought of seeing your brother and Tsireya, as well as the leaders of the clan after so long. It’s been a few months since you have left, and although Neytiri and Jake have come here in that time, you have not. You were excited to see Lo’ak’s reaction at your news, and excited to watch him become a man, be born again as a member of the reef clan, that was now his forever home. 

You saw him before making out anybody else, his deeper blue skin sticking out like a sore thumb among the Metkayina. You jumped off from Neyn before she even landed, and you heard Neteyam and Neytiri both hiss at your recklessness. You were too busy to care, running as fast as you still could and wrapping your arms around Lo’ak’s neck in a tight hug. The younger man was too stunned to say anything, so stunned that his arms remained motionless by the sides of his body. 

“Hug me, you skxawng.” 

“Angel…what?!”

You scowled at him until his eyebrows dropped and his eyes softened, his open mouth curling in a soft smile, one you knew too well, one you loved so much. 

“Hi, Angel.”

“Surprise?” 

He pushed you a little and kept you at arms length as he inspected you, placing a hand on your belly. 

“How long have you been gone? You look like you’re about to pop.”

“You’re such a dick, Lo’ak.” 

“I’m kidding, Angel. I can’t believe this. I’m so happy. So, so happy. This is the best present you could have ever gotten me.”

“Oh, ok, then, I guess I’ll just leave the solar-powered projector loaded with all your favourite movies and tv shows in the helo.”

“WHAT?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?”

“Why are you more excited about that than being an uncle??” 

“Can I use the baby as a projector? Didn’t think so.” 

“Sing for us, Angel. You didn’t bring your guitar all this way to keep it by your side all night.”

“Fine, but only if after, Tsireya can translate everything I sing.”

“Ha, she’ll kick your ass, you’ll see.”

“Hey, I might be pregnant, but I will still kick your ass if you keep annoying me.”

“I see the glow of motherhood didn’t do wonders on your temper.” 

“Lo’ak… she will hurt you if you keep going.” Neteyam sighed, rolling his eyes in his baby brother’s direction. 

“Fine, fine. Just sing, Angel, please?” 

You looked at your mate who was eyeing you lovingly and strummed a song you knew he’d know, you knew he’d love. You saw his eyes go wide and then settled on a look of wonderment and euphoria, a look you’ve seen a lot of recently. You gave him a wink before you started singing.

We were in the backseat, drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar

"I rent a place on Cornelia Street”, I say casually in the car

We were a fresh page on the desk, filling in the blanks as we go

As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead, leading us home

I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

It was a sweet reunion, one you desperately needed, and as you spent the night catching up by the fire, Neteyam’s arms wrapped around you and the sounds of your family laughing and chatting away filling your ears, you felt lucky for everything good in your life, that overwhelmingly outweighed the bad, and hopeful for the future and all the beauty it would bring with it. 

Thank you again for this amazing journey. I love you all x

Taglist (thank you ily x) @changing7 @erenjaegerwifee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @winchestertitties @puffb4ll @rebeccao03 @ultimatebluff @cottoncandy23 @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @n3t3y4msm4t3 @loquatious-josephi-krakousky @eternallyvenus @fresh-new-yoik-watah @lu-the-ghost-reader @@miawastakens @mm0thie @fanboyluvr @amortencjja @lovekeeho @trixscarlett

[bat-gwuck]

lmao so these two games have like nothing in common other than they’re both in my top 5 re-occurring hyperfixations but idc I’m having fun 😼👍

ong rdr2 and dragon age (esp origins) are my two all time FAVOURITE games so I thought ykw fuck it im gonna make a crossover AU - never done an AU before so NGL there’s a lot of kinks to iron out but I’m kinda digging it

started off with a lil’ character sheet for Arthur - I flip flopped between what I would make him (Templar, warden, keep him as a street thief/outlaw etc.) before finally settling on a mix of both warden and street thief/outlaw!! idk Arthur just gives me really strong Grey Warden vibes - a tragic hero (sometimes on a path of redemption depending on the origin/how they played it) who also has smth in them that will eventually kill them, despite having some weird benefits (in Arthur’s case, mentally)?? they’re twinning fr

I also just fucking LOVE the grey wardens so…

so it starts off relatively similar to normal: Arthur joins up with the gang at a young age, becomes a thief yada yada, and after a disastrous robbery, they end up camping in Ferelden, just before the Blight starts (unlucky)

for the purposes of this fic, the gang is only comprised of the camp girls (minus Sadie, for now), Dutch, Hosea, Arthur, John, Jack, Swanson, Pearson, Micah, Bill, Sean, Lenny and Javier - Sadie and Charles appear a bit later!!

shit goes down as normal but for story purposes, a heck of a lot faster, and the gang starts to fracture

seeing this, and wanting better for everyone, especially in the midst of the now upcoming Blight, which Dutch, for whatever reasons, does not acknowledge the danger of, Hosea (WHO LIVES IN THIS SCREW YOU ROCKSTAR) gathers as many people as will listen to him (everyone minus Dutch, Micah, Bill, Javier) with him and splits from the gang and heads towards Denerim in hopes of finding safety/starting anew

during their travels however, the group ends up getting caught up in a battle between a group of grey wardens and dark spawn - in which, because he has the worst luck, Arthur is nicked by a darkspawn which only means one thing: death.

(Literally just realising this is basically carver in the deep roads)

Luckily, or unluckily, depending on how you view it, the grey wardens offer to take Arthur back to Ostagar with them, they were impressed by his fighting skills, and arguing that the only way for him to live was to become a grey warden

after a lot of hesitation, and a bit of arguing, as he doesn’t want to leave his family behind, Arthur agrees to go with them and parts ways with the remains of the gang, promising that, once this was all over, they’d find each other again

SO I feel like this is enough for now! I definitely have more to write on this and NGL I might even write a full blown fanfic of this BC ITS SO MUCH FUN??

if anyone is wondering, Arthur will meet Sadie n Charles at Ostagar

I’m not entirely sure if I want Arthur to be the HoF in this AU?? I am very much planning on him being a prominent figure in the fight against the Blight and the Archdemon but idk?? ALSO there will be characters from both games in this AU bc I love some of them too much to leave out (I’m looking at you Morrigan and Shale…)

I did kind of want him to be a Blackwall type figure but like if Blackwall acc became a Grey Warden 💀

I hope you liked this and if anyone has any ideas for this AU PLEASE let me know I’m so lost 😭

I’ll be doing some more of these character sheets so keep an eye out for them!!

also Arthur absolutely nicked the fur collar off a rich noble