#including the whole 'being a robot' thing

[deepdreamnights]

A shorter sum-up that may correct some of the inevitable misunderstandings from the rather loose use of the term "scrape."

A guy making low-rent audiobooks downloaded a huge chunk of AO3 content for his robots to read, in the precise same way creepypasta youtubers have been operating for years.

That's it, that's the whole deal.

Generally in AI conversations it means to harvest and process training data. Whereas here it's being used in the older, pre-AI term, of grabbing a bunch of data from an un-or-under-protected website via bot.

Which yeah, it's scummy, but it's analogue scummy, and well in keeping with a number of common copyright misconceptions. I can't tell you how many idiots I've met that thought fanworks had no IP protections because they were violations of the corporate owners' IP.

But this?

**A note about the AI that Weitzman used to steal our work: it’s even greasier than it looks at first glance. It’s not just the method he used to lift works off AO3 and then regurgitate onto his own website and app. Looking beyond the untold horrors of his AI-generated cover ‘art’, in many cases these covers attempt to depict something from the fics in question that can’t be gleaned from their summaries alone. In addition, my fics (and I assume the others, as well) were listed with generated genres; tags that did not appear anywhere in or on my fic on AO3 and were sometimes scarily accurate and sometimes way off the mark. I remember You & Me & Holiday Wine had ‘found family’ (100% correct, but not tagged by me as such) and I believe The Shape of Soup was listed as, among others, ‘enemies to friends to lovers’ and ‘love triangle’ (both wildly inaccurate). Even worse, not all the fic listed (as authors on Reddit pointed out) came with their original summaries at all. Often the entire summary was AI-generated. All of these things make it very clear that it was an all-encompassing scrape—not only were our fics stolen, they were also fed word-for-word into the AI Weitzman used and then analyzed to suit Weitzman’s needs. This means our work was literally fed to this AI to basically do with whatever its other users want, including (one assumes) text generation.

That's not how any of this works.

The OP is acting as though this is all being done through a single, automated system, and it isn't. Even the idea that this is Weitzman's AI is silly, as he's likely using off the shelf services. This scam is too petty to justify the cost of anything custom in either time or cash.

Here's what's actually going down, in all likelihood, on the pirate's side of things:

He figured out the most popular works via simple metrics and got a bog-standard website downloader go to work on it or he spent a night right-clicking.

The resulting files for the fics were loaded into word or some similar program and a macro was used to automatically fix formatting for the autoreader.

He ran each fic through an autoreader, and posted those like any other .mp3 file.

Meanwhile, he gave Chat GPT the story link and said "Summarize this and give me a cover prompt"

He takes the cover prompts and runs them in Midjourney with some standard formatting cues.

Now, what isn't happening at any stage in this process is processing the work into a dataset.

Generative AI systems do not continually harvest and incorporation information given to them by end users.

This is outside of their capabilities with a few specific exceptions ( Some AI services log user interaction for later processing into a training dataset, but that is a separate process, and Chat-GPT has features to webcrawl specific sources of "Trustworthy information" but in those cases its functioning as a search engine.) But incorporating data into the training dataset requires crunching the whole set of weights.

Even if one developed a generative AI system that could actively harvest and learn information, you wouldn't want to let it. Unfiltered junk data degrades dataset quality very quickly and is an open invitation to disruptive overfitting through users being generally repetitive. It's okay for more than half your users to generate pictures of dogs or cats playing in the clouds, but you don't want that to be half your dataset.

The situation being, the disagreeable aspects of this scenario are all forms of analogue jackassery, people have been swiping fiction off the net and turning it into shitty autoreader autobooks for long before generative AI came around.

The only difference here is the quality of the robot voice and the thumbnail art.

And as to worries about AO3's stories being scraped for AI training, well, AO3 is part of the generally indexed internet-

-the chicken is already in the nugget. ChatGPT gobbled it up ages ago, and Google and Bing had done so before that as part of their search indexing.

Now, every AO3 author who is upset is well within their rights to be so. Their work was pirated in a non-transformative way, and this guy's mistake was setting up with completed ebooks rather than hawking a "I will autoread any webpage" app.

But there is a certain irony to the real panic being that the work might have been turned into a dataset for the creation of new works when that panic comes from fanwork creators. If dataset training is theft then so are fanworks.

SO HERE IS THE WHOLE STORY (SO FAR).

I am on my knees begging you to reblog this post and to stop reblogging the original ones I sent out yesterday. This is the complete account with all the most recent info; the other one is just sending people down senselessly panicked avenues that no longer lead anywhere.

IN SHORT

Cliff Weitzman, CEO of Speechify and (aspiring?) voice actor, used AI to scrape thousands of popular, finished works off AO3 to list them on his own for-profit website and in his attached app. He did this without getting any kind of permission from the authors of said work or informing AO3. Obviously.

When fandom at large was made aware of his theft and started pushing back, Weitzman issued a non-apology on the original social media posts—using 

his dyslexia; 

his intent to implement a tip-system for the plagiarized authors; and 

a sudden willingness to take down the work of every author who saw my original social media posts and emailed him individually with a ‘valid’ claim,

as reasons we should allow him to continue monetizing fanwork for his own financial gain.

When we less-than-kindly refused, he took down his ‘apologies’ as well as his website (allegedly—it’s possible that our complaints to his web host, the deluge of emails he received or the unanticipated traffic brought it down, since there wasn’t any sort of official statement made about it), and when it came back up several hours later, all of the work formerly listed in the fan fiction category was no longer there. 

THE TAKEAWAYS

1. Cliff Weitzman (aka Ofek Weitzman) is a scumbag with no qualms about taking fanwork without permission, feeding it to AI and monetizing it for his own financial gain; 

2. Fandom can really get things done when it wants to, and 

3. Our fanworks appear to be hidden, but they’re NOT DELETED from Weitzman’s servers, and independently published, original works are still listed without the authors' permission. We need to hold this man responsible for his theft, keep an eye on both his current and future endeavors, and take action immediately when he crosses the line again. 

THE TIMELINE, THE DETAILS, THE SCREENSHOTS (behind the cut)

Sunday night, December 22nd 2024, I noticed an influx in visitors to my fic You & Me & Holiday Wine. When I searched the title online, hoping to find out where they came from, a new listing popped up (third one down, no less):

This listing is still up today, by the way, though now when you follow the link to word-stream, it just brings you to the main site. (Also, to be clear, this was not the cause for the influx of traffic to my fic; word-stream did not link back to the original work anywhere.)

I followed the link to word-stream, where to my horror Y&M&HW was listed in its entirety—though, beyond the first half of the first chapter, behind a paywall—along with a link promising to take me—through an app downloadable on the Apple Store—to an AI-narrated audiobook version. When I searched word-stream itself for my ao3 handle I found both of my multi-chapter fics were listed this way:

Because the tags on my fics (which included genres* and characters, but never the original IPs**) weren’t working, I put ‘Kara Danvers’ into the search bar and discovered that many more supercorp fics (Supergirl TV fandom, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor pairing) were listed.

I went looking online for any mention of word-stream and AI plagiarism (the covers—as well as the ridiculously inflated number of reviews and ratings—made it immediately obvious that AI fuckery was involved), but found almost nothing: only one single Reddit post had been made, and it received (at that time) only a handful of upvotes and no advice. 

I decided to make a tumblr post to bring the supercorp fandom up to speed about the theft. I draw as well as write for fandom and I’ve only ever had to deal with art theft—which has a clear set of steps to take depending on where said art was reposted—and I was at a loss regarding where to start in this situation.

After my post went up I remembered Project Copy Knight, which is worth commending for the work they’ve done to get fic stolen from AO3 taken down from monetized AI 'audiobook’ YouTube accounts. I reached out to @echoekhi, asking if they’d heard of this site and whether they could advise me on how to get our works taken down.

While waiting for a reply I looked into Copy Knight’s methods and decided to contact OTW’s legal department:

And then I went to bed.

By morning, tumblr friends @makicarn and @fazedlight as well as a very helpful tumblr anon had seen my post and done some very productive sleuthing:

@echoekhi had also gotten back to me, advising me, as expected, to contact the OTW. So I decided to sit tight until I got a response from them.

That response came only an hour or so later: 

Which was 100% understandable, but still disappointing—I doubted a handful of individual takedown requests would accomplish much, and I wasn’t eager to share my given name and personal information with Cliff Weitzman himself, which is unavoidable if you want to file a DMCA.

I decided to take it to Reddit, hoping it would gain traction in the wider fanfic community, considering so many fandoms were affected. My Reddit posts (with the updates at the bottom as they were emerging) can be found here and here.

A helpful Reddit user posted a guide on how users could go about filing a DMCA against word-stream here (to wobbly-at-best results)

A different helpful Reddit user signed up to access insight into word-streams pricing. Comment is here.

Smells unbelievably scammy, right? In addition to those audacious prices—though in all fairness any amount of money would be audacious considering every work listed is accessible elsewhere for free—my dyscalculia is screaming silently at the sight of that completely unnecessary amount of intentionally obscured numbers.

Speaking of which! As soon as the post on r/AO3—and, as a result, my original tumblr post—began taking off properly, sometime around 1 pm, jumpscare! A notification that a tumblr account named @cliffweitzman had commented on my post, and I got a bit mad about the gist of his message :

Fortunately he caught plenty of flack in the comments from other users (truly you should check out the comment section, it is extremely gratifying and people are making tremendously good points), in response to which, of course, he first tried to both reiterate and renegotiate his point in a second, longer comment (which I didn’t screenshot in time so I’m sorry for the crappy notification email formatting):

which he then proceeded to also post to Reddit (this is another Reddit user’s screenshot, I didn’t see it at all, the notifications were moving too fast for me to follow by then)

... where he got a roughly equal amount of righteously furious replies. (Check downthread, they're still there, all the way at the bottom.)

After which Cliff went ahead & deleted his messages altogether. 

It’s not entirely clear whether his account was suspended by Reddit soon after or whether he deleted it himself, but considering his tumblr account is still intact, I assume it’s the former. He made a handful of sock puppet accounts to play around with for a while, both on Reddit and Tumblr, only one of which I have a screenshot of, but since they all say roughly the same thing, you’re not missing much:

And then word-stream started throwing a DNS error.

That lasted for a good number of hours, which was unfortunately right around the time that a lot of authors first heard about the situation and started asking me individually how to find out whether their work was stolen too. I do not have that information and I am unclear on the perimeters Weitzman set for his AI scraper, so this is all conjecture: it LOOKS like the fics that were lifted had three things in common:

They were completed works;

They had over several thousand kudos on AO3; and

They were written by authors who had actively posted or updated work over the past year.

If anyone knows more about these perimeters or has info that counters my observation, please let me know!

I finally thought to check/alert evil Twitter during this time, and found out that the news was doing the rounds there already. I made a quick thread summarizing everything that had happened just in case. You can find it here.

I went to Bluesky too, where fandom was doing all the heavy lifting for me already, so I just reskeeted, as you do, and carried on.

Sometime in the very early evening, word-stream went back up—but the fan fiction category was nowhere to be seen. Tentative joy and celebration!***

That’s when several users—the ones who had signed up for accounts to gain intel and had accessed their own fics that way—reported that their work could still be accessed through their history. Relevant Reddit post here.

Sooo—

We’re obviously not done. The fanwork that was stolen by Weitzman may be inaccessible through his website right now, but they aren’t actually gone. And the fact that Weitzman wasn’t willing to get rid of them altogether means he still has plans for them. 

This was my final edit on my Reddit post before turning off notifications, and it's pretty much where my head will be at for at least the foreseeable future:

Please feel free to add info in the comments, make your own posts, take whatever action you want to take to protect your work. I only beg you—seriously, I’m on my knees here—to not give up like I saw a handful of people express the urge to do. Keep sharing your creative work and remain vigilant and stay active to make sure we can continue to do so freely. Visit your favorite fics, and the ones you’ve kept in your ‘marked for later’ lists but never made time to read, and leave kudos, leave comments, support your fandom creatives, celebrate podficcers and support AO3. We created this place and it’s our responsibility to keep it alive and thriving for as long as we possibly can.

Also FUCK generative AI. It has NO place in fandom spaces.

THE 'SMALL' PRINT (some of it in all caps):

*Weitzman knew what he was doing and can NOT claim ignorance. One, it’s pretty basic kindergarten stuff that you don’t steal some other kid’s art project and present it as your own only to act surprised when they protest and then tell the victim that they should have told you sooner that they didn’t want their project stolen. And two, he was very careful never to list the IPs these fanworks were based on, so it’s clear he was at least familiar enough with the legalities to not get himself in hot water with corporate lawyers. Fucking over fans, though, he figured he could get away with that. 

**A note about the AI that Weitzman used to steal our work: it’s even greasier than it looks at first glance. It’s not just the method he used to lift works off AO3 and then regurgitate onto his own website and app. Looking beyond the untold horrors of his AI-generated cover ‘art’, in many cases these covers attempt to depict something from the fics in question that can’t be gleaned from their summaries alone. In addition, my fics (and I assume the others, as well) were listed with generated genres; tags that did not appear anywhere in or on my fic on AO3 and were sometimes scarily accurate and sometimes way off the mark. I remember You & Me & Holiday Wine had ‘found family’ (100% correct, but not tagged by me as such) and I believe The Shape of Soup was listed as, among others, ‘enemies to friends to lovers’ and ‘love triangle’ (both wildly inaccurate). Even worse, not all the fic listed (as authors on Reddit pointed out) came with their original summaries at all. Often the entire summary was AI-generated. All of these things make it very clear that it was an all-encompassing scrape—not only were our fics stolen, they were also fed word-for-word into the AI Weitzman used and then analyzed to suit Weitzman’s needs. This means our work was literally fed to this AI to basically do with whatever its other users want, including (one assumes) text generation. 

***Fan fiction appears to have been made (largely) inaccessible on word-stream at this time, but I’m hearing from several authors that their original, independently published work, which is listed at places like Kindle Unlimited, DOES still appear in word-stream’s search engine. This obviously hurts writers, especially independent ones, who depend on these works for income and, as a rule, don’t have a huge budget or a legal team with oceans of time to fight these battles for them. If you consider yourself an author in the broader sense, beyond merely existing online as a fandom author, beyond concerns that your own work is immediately at risk, DO NOT STOP MAKING NOISE ABOUT THIS.

Again, please, please PLEASE reblog this post instead of the one I sent originally. All the information is here, and it's driving me nuts to see the old ones are still passed around, sending people on wild goose chases.

Thank you all so much.

[quantitative4rts]

I've been going insane based off of some implications from one of Monique's videos, which is this one.

your obligatory bad gore doodle you are welcome 🫡 but i needed to get this idea out so whatever

whole rant under here guh. Spoilers to one event (Abandoned Kerfur) in 0.8.1

Even if there's different lore related junk, this is mostly what I interpret it as so shrug.

I think that Dee definitely got snatched in some way and put into that one abandoned Kerfur robot that you can find buried. I THINK that the gore and guts inside of it are Dee and I have very limited evidence but I DONT CARE he's special to me.

(Text reads: Bloody robot. Even if there's a lore reason, I still think Dee got shoved into the robot and was trying to get help.)

No body found on the ENTIRE property, but his Kerfur was still trying to communicate with home base? What if Dee was shoved into that robot fucking FNAF style and was trying so hard to get help, but no one could understand him. Bleeding out, stuck inside of a machine with no chance at being saved... With how insane other topics in the game are, I think it's possible for Dee to have possessed that robot and that's why he attacks Kellin. I think that the robot attacking Kellin was just an unconscious response by the machine and Dee's anger at being abandoned.

Now I know that you can buy the orange Kerfur after defeating the abandoned one... But what if Kel decided to salvage this abandoned, bloody robot? I think Kel would be willing to go through hell to repair this thing, fix its broken paneling (from Kel beating the shit out of it with a crowbar,) and give it its own Kerfur-O body. Maybe he just wanted another robot, but he wanted to save it in some way. Eventually in some way it would be revealed that this robot has some aspect of Dr. Dee in it.. The guy who died with no care by the organizers of these experiments, the guy who was there at the base before Kel... And just imagine him seeing this early 20s enby guy just fucking thriving out in the mountains.

I've been thinking about these guys for a while and making my own characterization of Kel and shit so who cares if it's non-canon. Here's some fun facts about Dee from whatever this is. An AU maybe. Idk. Let's call this the Dr. Dee lives on AU. (DDLO.)

I'm fairly sure the abandoned Kerfur model might be thinner / slightly smaller than the one you can buy, so imagine a grown human skeleton being shoved into that thing.

With that in mind, Dee's Kerfur-O shell is missing its right arm, which shows off the internal gore and his right humerus bone. Super fun!

His eye also pops out of the fucking screen cause I wanted it to.

He used a cane for the first two weeks because he could not remember how to walk (It had been only two months but being half alive in a robot will do that to you.)

Once he got mobility back, he started to do tasks around the base for Kel. These included cleaning up trash that he left around before dying, collecting scrap for his shell or just for other projects Kel has in mind.

Kel gives him weekly journals to write in to document his experiences and to keep him half sane as crazy shit happens around them. Dee probably has insane panic attacks considering what happened to him while he was ALIVE THERE.

Kel ordered so many materials to make extra scrap (to make Dee another arm,) from the store that Ena had to send him a message asking what he was using it all for. Obviously he lied cause otherwise Kel and Dee would probably both be killed.

Dee is very appreciative of Kel and claims that "He does more for me than that company ever did."

After two weeks of being reanimated, Kel eventually just gave up on making another arm and just welded Dee's open wound shut with extra metal. He also started wrapping Dee's screen with bandages to cover the eye. Mainly so it wouldn't possibly get infected, but also because it was slightly freaking Kel out.

ok that's all I have developed for now, I will have more later maybe depends on how obsessed I get over them again. i have been playing votv nonstop i do not know how I have not gotten one of the forbiddens yet

[mellorocket]

I updated my blog's theme a little bit! It doesn't look quite how i want it to rn, I'll be working on it for a while, so sorry if bad coding and even worse color theory jump scares you.

[suddenlymicah]

has anyone considered henry possessing glamrock freddy or am i being a little silly right now

[recreationaldivorce]

tbh video games are a weird exception for me where i can't stand other forms of media having reactionary politics, like i can't look past it to try enjoy it despite the politics, it just ruins the experience for me, but for video games idgaf lol as long as the gameplay is fun i'm good. i mean i did write like 10k words criticising the reactionary politics of life is strange but that's different cause lis is a telltale game and basically just an interactive movie like there's not much gameplay to compensate for the writing and the politics of the writers. normal games are mostly gameplay and you can kinda ignore the writing if you don't like it. not that gameplay is apolitical, obviously the way the gameplay is designed is political too, but ig it's easier for me to ignore it if i can be distracted by the fun-ness of the gameplay? idk. but generally i'll play games with whatever strategy is most successful for the objectives of the game, like if the goal of the game is to make the most profit possible i'll play as a capitalist, if the goal of the game is to conquer all the land i'll play as a coloniser, if the goal of the game is to overthrow the bourgeoisie i'll play as a communist lol. anyway my main source of income in my rimworld games is harvesting and selling prisoners' organs

[chubby-aphrodite]

"why do people have a problem with trans shapeshifters, every trans person i've ever met wants to be a shapeshifter, and i am trans and i want to be a shapeshifter!"

okay but that's. never been the problem. the problems crop up when a character is the only trans character. or when the only asexual character is a robot. or when the only autistic character is also a robot. a character being the only one of those that has those traits is dehumanizing.

there's nothing wrong with making those characters. there's nothing wrong with liking those characters. there's nothing wrong with finding empowerment and freedom in those characters. but when creating those characters, having them being the only characters with those particular traits being nonhuman is kind of putting those traits in a box labeled nonhuman. like the only "normal human" characters you can imagine are cis or neurotypical or what have you.

and that's not a dig that's me asking you to keep that in mind.

[13eyond13]

.

[unluckiestmember]

can I request headcanons of x-men 97 team x reader who is an absolute sweatheart and is just the cutest thing to exist.

Coming right up!

X-Men '97 X Sweetheart! Reader

Characters: Nathan Summers/Cable, Scott Summers/Cyclops, Remy LeBeau/Gambit, Jean Gray, Jubilee, Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto, Morph, Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler, Rogue and Logan/Wolverine.

Warning: Mild Cursing, but overall SFW.

A/N: Can I please get someone to remind me to actually post when I'm supposed to? Anyone? XD

Cable

“Time to get to work, keep up!… You want me to carry you? Heh, say less.”

Oh Nathan, Nathan, Nathan. He tries his best to be as tough and straight to business like his old man. Always a man to try and change the future and fight for the people with a straight face. But as soon as you’re around him, your sunshine energy radiates onto him. You make the freedom fighter have a need to impress you on the field when he’s not showering you in love outside of missions.

What really drew you to him was just how careful you were with his body. How you complimented his eye and stroked his robotic arm with so much care. It has made him really adore the end of the days where particular expeditions took a lot of energy out of you two, resulting in cuddles and sweet nothings. He never understood the whole concept of loving someone like his dad loved his mom, but after meeting you, he finally understood what they had was sacred. What you two had was sacred. Nathan has lost a lot in his life, but he’ll be damned if he loses you.

Cyclops

“Are you alright?! You’re not hurt, are you? I’m not overexaggerating- I’m worrying the right amount!”

Scott can be a pain in the neck during missions. He’s always one to bark out orders and keep a level head on missions as the leader of the X-Men. And if there’s one order that’s always on the top of his list, it’s making sure you are safe. He’s by all means not an overprotective or possessive lover, but he makes it a daily part of his life to always check on his beloved. Whenever you are just being yourself, you can find him staring at you, taking in your cute energy and reciprocating it with his own cute antics like kissing your cheek or giving you gifts when you least expect it.

Are the team a bit jealous of you having Scott’s favoritism? A bit. But hey, they’d rather someone like you have the best of Scott than the worst. Even if that also includes his defensive nature of you along with his jealous antics. He means well. You know it, sometimes you just have to remind him. Whether it be with a simple talk or a passionate kiss. Face it, you keep the leader of the X-Men grounded.

Gambit

“Ah, just the person I was looking for. Is it just me or are you getting more breathtaking every day, mon cher?"

When it comes to you, Remy is bound to flirt twenty four seven just to see that nice shade of pink color on your cute little cheeks. And if he cant succeed in that, he’s bound to have you smitten with his physical hold of your waist or his sincere compliments. He’s quite a charmer, anyone knows that, but with you, he adds another flare to himself; A sweet lover.

Gambit will always make it abundantly clear that you are the cutest person he’s ever met and how he can wager the perfect future with you by his side. Expect this man to shower you with surprise trips away from the mansion, a fresh breakfast almost everyday and a little card show if you are ever upset, because if there’s one thing he hates more than anything, it’s you being upset. You are the only one that can make Gambit so emotional because he just loves you so so much. And if you ever forget, he doesn’t mind reminding his raison de vivre.”

Jean Gray

“I wish you could see what was in my mind… Maybe then you’d realize how much you mean to me, my love.”

When it comes to Jean, you’ve basically hit the jackpot on one of the most open and loving girlfriends you could ever ask for. You aren’t just a sweetheart, you are her sweetheart. She always touches you like a porcelain doll, staring into your eyes with so much affection of her own and giggling whenever you hug or hold her, prompting her to hold you or hug you back just as tightly. On missions, she is in the zone, but as soon as they are over, she’s heading straight to you to check if you are injured. And if you’re not? Expect this woman to shower you in so many compliments and love that you might just drown from the cuteness.

Jean isn’t just your protector, but also your best friend, always free to try anything you want to try and do what you want to do.Dare she say, you might be the love of her life. Screw being lovers, she wants to be a married couple. But as much as that gets her excited, she’ll take her time for you, because she knows whether it takes her whole life or a single day, she doesn’t mind waiting for the fateful day.

Jubilee

“That was awesome! Did you see me out there- Did you?! Let me let you in on a secret; That last one was for you~!”

Because of how young she is and her lack of a love life, Jubilee is still pretty new to the whole dating and falling in love thing. But when she met you, she knew she was bound to fall in love with someone so positive and full of life. An embodiment of a firework if she said so herself. She always drags you around town with her to hangout at arcades or spend time in the mall grabbing lunch and doing cute couple things.

She cares about you enough to ask other X-Men members advice on how to treat you or show you how much you mean to her. It honestly impresses and shocks the team how this troublemaker tries her best to make you feel like the luckiest person in the world dating her. If she’s not showing her love for you through domestic activities, then look outside your window at night. You are bound to find Jubilee sending you love with her fireworks bound to make you giggle and smile. Which is always delightful because when you are filled with so much happiness, so is she.

Magneto

“What we have is stronger than any magnetic pull I’m capable of. It’s terrifying. But also magnificent.”

If you ever wanted to be treated like royalty, Magneto is the man for you. Erik treats you like you are a precious flower that could be destroyed by the mutant hating world around you. Because of this, he is so careful with you, yet not overbearing. If you want to hang out outside or simply hang out with him, he doesn’t mind as long as no one looks at you the wrong way or touches you with ill intent. Because if they do?… Let’s just say Magneto can do a lot with his powers.

When he’s not making sure you’re safe, he is awestruck at your innocence and your positive outlook on life. At first, he actually found your vision of the world to be immature, untrue and above all stupid. But the more he’s spent time with you, you’ve seem to have melted his cold heart a bit. Does he still think humanity is the scum of the Earth and nothing can change? Yes. But with you by his side, showing him what love, understanding and acceptance can be, maybe, just maybe, he can see where you’re coming from.

Morph

“Why the long face, babe? I can do a mean Magneto impression that’s sure to make you smile… Haha! There’s my love!”

Around people, Morph treats you almost like one of the guys, in a figurative sense. They don't treat you any differently from the rest of his friends and family within the team. But behind closed doors or when you two are alone, all bets are off. They are melting at your sweet nature and so quick to try to make you laugh, smile or get physical with them. Man, do they love when you get physical with him- They adore it!

But what they really loves is how caring and protecting of them you are. They've told you about their past, their run in with Mister Sinister and their time away from the team. And no matter how many nightmares or moments of body dysmorphia he experiences, they love how you are always there to pick up their loose pieces and put them back together with your gentle touch and gentler words. Because of this, they're always there to return the favor and comfort you as well when you are at your lowest. You are their best friend sorry Logan and their beloved and they wouldn’t want it any other way.

Nightcrawler

“Liebe meines Lebens. You never cease to take my breath away.”

Kurt is a pretty romantic person, especially when it comes to you. He showers you endlessly in love, rubbing his nose against yours, showering your face in kisses and becoming putty when you hold him, even if it’s just by his arm! He cherishes moments where the both of you hang out, especially by gardens where he makes cute flower crowns with you. Though just any moments with you are the highlight of his day. On missions, you two synergize perfectly well with the blue mutant complimenting you on your moves and takedowns of foes.

Kurt is an expert at physical touch for a love language, but he’s just as amazing with his words, especially with the nicknames he’s given you. He’ll make sure everyone knows that you are his Schatz, Herz, bessere Hälfte, and of course, Liebe meines Lebens. To you, he’s a lot like a little puppy; Full of energy and always waiting for your attention and affection given to him. The team thinks you two are cute even if they find it a bit annoying that Nightcrawler is always teleporting you two all over the place. It’s not too bad though since the sound of your mixing laughter is enough to make everyone’s hearts soar happily.

Rouge

“Hey, Sugar! I missed you so much today! Now come here, I at least want a hug!”

Rogue is super careful of you. You are just too precious to her and she doesn’t want to hurt or break you with her powers. So she makes sure you both have ways of showing one another how much you love each other, especially herself. Outside of soft hugs, she tries her best to give you a hand covered kiss. Though she can be super cheesy and exchange indirect kisses with rocks, feed you while chuckling at how adorably you stare at her like she hung the stars above. She’ll even have you both set up for dinner plans and fly you around in the sky if you ever want to destress from work as a X-Man.

You both have a cute relationship, even if there are moments where Rogue wonders if she deserves you or if she will ever be enough for you due to her destructive powers and the possibility she will never be able to touch you. These revelations have led to emotional nights, but the promise you make to touch her and make her the happiest woman in the world always makes Rogue realize that she is beyond lucky to have you. You make her want to find a way to touch you no matter what. And mark her words, she will.

Wolverine

“Woah, little pup. I was just gone for a few hours, you act like I went to war or something! Aw, screw it, come here.”

Logan has fallen in love with many men and women during his years of living. But damn has he never met anyone quite like you! When he met you, he thought your whole sweetheart shtick was fake, no offense. He thought it was some trick used to get people to lower their guards around you so you can get the upper hand on them. But when he found out you really were the sweet soul everyone hyped you up to be, he slowly but surely fell for you. He fell for how you spoke to him with such understanding and patience. The way you touched him was with the utmost care when you took care of him and helped him clean blood from your adventures with him that got out of hand.

Logan fights for many people, but for you he will kill anyone that hurts you or makes you cry. Your smile lights up his whole life, your laugh pushes him to be stronger to preserve it and your touch makes him feel alive in a world that always knocks him down. If it’s not the X-Men, Wolverine usually fights for himself and only himself. But now that he has you to lose, he fights for the both of you and a future where you both can live a peaceful life you’re both proud of.

If you got any requests for X-Men '97, Blue Eye Samurai, and or Arcane, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[ajortga]

can you keep a secret?

pairing: wednesday addams x werewolf fem reader

summary: you miss your girlfriend who's recently transferred to nevermore academy. your persistent whining is able to transfer you to nevermore and cling onto her the whole time there.

word count: 5k+

based off request!

-

W and R are in a relationship, W transfers to Nevermore. W and R may not have anything in common, but they do on some things, like R being an outcast as well (a werewolf ), R insists their parents that they transfer to Nevermore too. After they successfully did, R immediately finds W, the outcast's curious to what'll happen to R (obvi doesn't know they knew each other).. Basically every student in Nevermore sees them together everyday. One, asks W who R is to W, she answers truthfully, "They're My Lover." everything and everyone just goes crazy

-

“Cara mia, we live next to each other,” Wednesday says softly, brushing your hair back as you braid her black silky hair.

You hum, a little sad, finishing to braid her two tiny braids that hung low to her chest.

“But I won’t see you in school, baby." A huff escapes your lips as your girlfriend sighs, giving up on trying to coax your madness.

“Or at all,” you add, “you’ll have a damn dorm with some girl that you’ve never seen before. It’s not fair.”

The raven-haired girl rolls her eyes, “I’ll cut off my heart with the sharpest knife I know if I ever started to love someone more than you,” Wednesday suggests, trying to make you feel better.

She cups your cheeks as you refuse to speak and rubs her thumb gently around the pink tint covering them. A way to always make you feel better. Yet she knows better because you certainly don’t look better.

“We’re both outcasts Weds. My stupid parents just won’t allow me to transfer because they think Nevermore is weird. Yet they went to school there. That's not fair."

“They’re just trying to protect you. I'd feel that way too for our daughter if Nevermore had hurt me. If someone ever hurt you, they’re death will be a long one. Sufferable and miserable. So bad that they’ll beg for forgiveness before they bleed out.”

Usually Wednesday would expect you to smile and giggle, but you’re not. Why does your girlfriend have to leave you?

“Can’t you stay?” You ask, voice tiny.

“As much as I sneak out, Mother has already informed everyone including your parents not to let me stay the night. They are used to my.. Tactics per say.”

Your sharp nails from your growth as a soon to be wolfed out werewolf emerges, clawing the wood you attached to your wall when this kind of stuff happens.

"I can sneak you in and I'll even build you a door in my closet," you suggest.

"No, Y/N."

"What if we install a life-like robot and I'll sneak out with you?"

"No."

You huff angrily, slashing the wood.

Wednesday firmly takes your hand, and your hand almost scratches her, yet it stops as you don’t want to hurt her, “Stop that.”

“No,” you state, tugging your hand away and sinking them into the wood, so hard that a big ass dent forms.

Your girlfriend sighs, rolling her eyes as she sweeps her bangs away from her eyes, “I don’t know what you want me to do bambina. Maybe I could.. Sneak you away from this horrid place. But at what cost? Nevermore seems strange. Not strange in a way I’d want to discover in mysteries though.”

She sees the way you sigh, disappointed. Upset.

“You’ll be there for a whole school year, it’s far.”

“I’ll bring my typewriter. Distance won’t change that, swear on my cemetery. I’ll write you letters at night, secretly take the principal's mailbox and send them to you. Or I’ll threaten Thing in my backpack and crawl till he can give it to you.” Wednesday isn’t kidding, her stare is cold, well usually it was cold, but not towards you. “He can suffer in thorns, I’ll stitch him up, just as long as.. You’ll write back?”

You nod, yet you don’t care about the letters, you care about her.

“You’ll send them?”

“Yes.”

“Every night?”

“Yes.”

“What if you begin to stop when you feel like it’s not working anymore?”

“I won’t Y/N.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Oh, but I do.”

"No you don't, you don't know the future."

"But I do know that I won't stop sending my letters. I can feel it."

You stop scratching the wood and you bury yourself on Wednesday, breathing in her scent as you try to comfort yourself. Yet even when the lights are off, your heart is pounding, feeling alone.

-

A tear falls from your cheek as you watch Lurch stuff his trunk, Wednesday talking to her mother and father, while hesitantly hugging Pugsley. 

“You’ll have so much fun.” Morticia says, with a smile, kissing her cheek and staining it slightly with her black lipstick.

“Define fun as boring and a punishment, sure,” Wednesday stiffly responds, yet softens as she looks at you. She takes her mother’s hand off her shoulder and approaches you.

“If you cry, it'll be raining all day. And you don't want it to be all gloomy for you? I don't want my socks wet. A poem, along with two pages written in a small font. One to express my day, and one to express that stupid love so you can sleep peacefully at night with nightmares.” Wednesday says, stopping for a moment, “sweet nightmares,” she adds.

You nod, yet your tear stained cheeks aren’t really helping, she reaches up and wipes it off with her thumb. Then let you hug her, you immediately bury yourself into her and she sighs.

“I’ll be thinking of you, till every grain of sand can be counted.”

You watch her approach the car, then slip in. She has the window scroll down, and you look at her. As the car engine roars, you bite your lip. And slowly watch it wheel away. Slowly jogging till it’s out of sight.

-

It’s been two weeks. And sure enough, Wednesday has kept her promise. She’s sent you letters you’ve kept in your drawer, they’re never repetitive, but always show you love. You like it like that, knowing that it isn’t a chore for her to write letters for you. If anything, they’ve lengthened in size as she's sent more and more.

It makes you miss her a little more. You have to hug your life-sized stuffed animal at night that she sprayed her perfume on. She also left half a bottle on your counter, just in case it runs out. Though it takes longer to sleep, it makes you feel a little better knowing there was something that was like a piece of her beside you.

Thing has visited you, and you know that little guy has a huge memory. You lost the letter you were going to hand Thing, and though you were a little sad, he moved his fingers and you realized you could speak to him for hours and he would tell Wednesday every detail. She had even wrote to you,

~

I owe Thing a thank you, yet he can be provoking at times. He had communicated to me for an hour, thirty minutes, and thirty two seconds about your day. I always wonder what secrets lay in the Addams Family. Yet I’m not quite comprehending why Thing has a big memory space.

Nonetheless, I think about you everyday. My roommate, Enid, has been unpleasant with her interesting taste of fashion and colors. It’s distracting. In a negative way. You’re distracting in a way where I can’t take my eyes off your enticing figure Y/N. Weems had bothered me the whole day, smothered me with questions and made sure I was doing fine. No wonder why mother got along with her so much. Those two are like the same person just one with smothered ink. But, something that sparked my particular interest was that you can dorm with two other people. Thing had told me that there was an accident at your school. If you’d like, which I’d appreciate, could ask your mother about transferring, say it’s dangerous. You aren’t a late wolfer, but convince her possibly that Nevermore can increase your chances. Wish you were here, I hate Mr. Tuesday. That white bunny is always staring at me during my typing time. But I can tolerate him a bit more, knowing you gifted it to me. You love Mr. Tuesday, so I appreciate your gesture. It’s not often I get visions, but they’ve almost made me want to experience them more. I see you in them, baking. Writing to me. It makes me almost happy.

Enid keeps trying to get to know me, she’s a strange soul, but she’s a werewolf, like you. You two are nothing alike, yet I think you two would get along a bit too much. Except you don’t blast random glitter pop music during the night. During my WRITING TIME. Even thinking about it rots my brain. But I miss you cariño. Sleep tight, I’ve left at least 300 things to hide in your house and you’ll never expect where they are. But everyone is special, it’ll make you at least smile a little when I tell you each night. Today’s item is snuck inside your bed, I used Mother’s chainsaw to cut through the wood, it’s a tiny version of Mr. Tuesday. I asked Thing the other day to sneak it in that spot and he sanded the wood back in. It should be a sort of door. But I crocheted it during my free time, there are times where I can’t think during my writing time. That is an understatement, but I only think of you. But I’m hoping you can enjoy it for today.

Love you, sleep cozily,

Weds

-

You smile as you look under your bed, now noticing the small outline from Wednesday’s chainsaw and you open the little compartment to see another crocheted white bunny of Mr. Tuesday. You nuzzle it and place it on your desk. You love him. You even spent a few minutes grabbing white yarn and attaching it to your tote bag.

You think about what Wednesday said, someone had gotten hurt in your school from being stabbed by a senior that was drunk. Obviously he didn’t mean it. But you had seen how anxious your mom got when she found out the news.

It was 11:23PM, and your mom’s room light was illuminated from the hallway. You get out of bed, ruffle your hair, and approach her room. Your only thought is Wednesday.

-

Before you could even ask, you already noticed her holding a black card, the logo of Nevermore Academy apparent. It said in bolded letters, 1965 Jericho’s long lasting Nevermore Academy. One for outcasts.

“Mom?” You said, your voice slowly quiet, and she looked up at you, waving you over.

“Hi honey,” she replies, “I’ve been thinking about the accident at your school. And I know you don’t like that place that much. And as much as I feel like I should keep you there. Your safety is important to me.”

Your excitement grows, you want to have that wide smile off your face.

“So?...” You question, wondering if she was saying what you were thinking she meant.

“And you keep bringing Wednesday up. So me and Morticia talked, and I talked with your father. We’re going to send you to Nevermore, but only if you want to. As long as you write to us every end of the week and call us. We want our little wolf to meet ones like her. It’s not often you find ones like us here.”

You nod.

“Yes!”

You didn't even think it would be that easy.

-

As soon as you get the news you squeal and call Wednesday early in the morning. She responds almost quickly, her voice on the other line, “What brings you to call me this early Y/N?”

“I’m transferring to Nevermore!” You say, you were much more excited but your tired voice betrayed you.

There’s a pause, then a small, “What?”

“I’m coming!”

A laugh and you can almost feel your girlfriend smiling with a toothy grin with her ear pressed to the phone.

“I knew your parents would let you go somehow,” she says, voice more excited, yet anyone else would not notice but you.

You can hear some rustling, “I’m going to ask Weems if you can dorm with me. I can kick Enid out for all I care, yet she isn’t horrible. Just, I’d rather spend it with you if she doesn’t allow a three dorm. Maybe I shouldn’t bring up a three dorm at all.”

“Thing, go back home and ask Father if Lurch can drive Y/N to Nevermore. Actually, include that if he won’t ask, I’ll shave his head off. Also make sure that he sprays two times of her favorite perfume, have her favorite sour candy ready, her headphones, her books, and tell him to pack some melon milk for her too. And her cow stuffie. Make sure he’s playing the playlist she made that’s saved in the car.”

There is a pause, and she makes a small, ‘oh oh��

“Baby,” Wednesday doesn’t call you that much, but when she does you’re over the moon. It usually shows that she’s happy. Really happy, yet her voice is still soft and composed, “I installed a door behind your clothes in your closet, guess we’ll unwrap the 300 presents when we go home. But I got another Mr. Tuesday there, he has some sort of costume on.” 

She pauses, you hear a random girl jumping up and down in the background, squealing about something as your girlfriend groans and presses her ear back into her phone, sending Enid an annoyed glare, “Pack your stuff, I’ll be waiting. I might as well cut my ears off if Enid won’t stop blabbing her mouth off.” You can tell that Wednesday turns her head to face her new roommate, she says louder, since Enid couldn’t hear her talking to you, “Better yet, slice her mouth off.” Then Enid’s squeals die down.

You grin through the phone as you grab out another version of Mr. Tuesday with a mushroom hat, you hug him tight.

The doorbell rings and you hear your mom open it, putting Wednesday on speaker phone.

“I’m almost done packing.”

“Y/N, honey. Mrs. Addams requests to see you,” your mother’s voice echoes through the hallway and you glance at the door.

You don’t know how Wednesday can hear it but she does, “I’m taking into conclusion that she received my message. Oh yes, she replied with those stupid icons. Yet it is one of a thorny rose and a gravestone.”

“Coming!” You stuff your bags, “Be right back.”

-

You almost choke as Morticia brings you into her embrace, hugging her back with an easing gentleness.

“Hello little one,” her soft voice says, the one you find comfort in as much as you do Wednesday’s. She gently rubs your hair, “I informed Lurch for your arrival, he’s outside whenever you’ll be ready dear. I’m so glad you decided to willingly join Nevermore. It has been a place that holds many memories. It’s where I met Gomez and fell in love. Maybe Wednesday and you can find the secrets in it. Go on journeys with her. Dig some graves, set them on fire."

It weird you out, but you smile, nodding, “To spend it with Wednesday is all I need.”

“You’re a special soul, a pure heart I can handle. Now go,” she waves you away, “Don’t keep him waiting for long.”

You give her one last grin and look over your shoulder before turning the corner.

-

After hanging up on Wednesday when you finish packing all your bags, your mother and father hug you goodbye and give you your favorite cranberry juice. Sweet.

It’s cozy in the Addams car, comfortingly with no talk, just the music Wednesday requested (forced) Lurch to play that lingers in your playlist. You feel like a butler with all the requests Wednesday smothered him with.

An hour passes and you can see the way the clouds slightly come into view, then you see the environment change as a sign that reads, “Welcome to Jericho! A Town of History”

Then, you finally see the academy in view, and Lurch arrives right in front, before taking your bags and guiding you to Principal Weems.

“It is my honor to have you here at Nevermore. This school has history, and where you’ll certainly grow,” her smile is wide, a little too welcoming it gets a little scary.

You just give small mumbles and nods, “Well, Morticia called me this morning and I quickly looked through your demographics. It also isn’t a coincidence that you have straight A’s. A 4.3 GPA. Many extracurriculars, and of course, you’re a werewolf. I see.”

“It is no surprise also that you had gone to the same school as another student who just enrolled, Morticia’s daughter, Wednesday. She sure is.. Different. But nonetheless talented. She had asked me yesterday afternoon if it was possible to have a dorm of three, and I’m assuming that you have been planning to dorm with her for the rest of the semester?”

She reads your mind, you immediately nod your head up and down, “Yes.”

“Well, most of the 3 dorms have been occupied, but her and Enid seem to have a slow relationship. I’ll have her in my office today, but by the end of the night or tomorrow morning I’ll give you my answer.” Weems scribbles on a note, writes some address and a name, “You’ll be rooming with Yoko, sound okay?”

You nod.

“Alright, I’ll call Enid up, for your guide.”

“..Guide?”

She nods, “Of course, we have many classes you can do, and people you can meet. She knows this place well, and I know that she’ll open up your shell.”

-

As Wednesday watches Enid leave, a soft grin forms on her face as she unties Thing from the random crocheted pink jacket Enid made for him.

Her eyes scan Enid as the door closes, then she turns to him, “I’m expecting Y/N is here. I’ve crocheted a questionable amount of Mr. Tuesdays.” She informs, “I shouldn’t have admitted that,” Wednesday sighs, as she pulls out the drawer next to her to reveal at least 40 assorted sizes of the same bunny. There were some in outfits, wigs. Wednesday almost finds it as therapeutic as her writing time. She crochets them whenever Enid leaves their dorm.

Thing smacks his head, and the braided girl glares at him, “Don’t judge me, I can cut off your fingers any time,” she threatens, seeing the way Thing surrendered with two fingers up in the air.

Then he moves around his fingers and does random hand movements.

“You think I’d follow Enid and try to make conversation with Y/N so much that Enid will get suspicious? You’d really think I’d do that?” 

Thing agrees.

“Then, you know me too well, let’s go.”

-

“Enid, glad you’re- Wednesday? It seems like you’ve tagged along,” Weems adds as she almost seems surprised, looking at her. If anything, the look in her eye is cautious.

“Yes,” Wednesday responds, trying to avoid the way your eyes almost smile as you look at her, but if anyone else were to look at you, they wouldn’t notice. “I’ve decided to accompany Enid, this is much more exciting than some other events at Nevermore,” she adds again, not entirely rude.

You sit in the middle while Wednesday takes the only left seat available, scooches her chair closer. Her hand rubs over yours after meeting under the covers of Weem’s desk. She takes note of how a small smile creeps on your face when Weem talks because of that.

“This is actually so awesome,” the blonde cheers next to you, making you turn your head and turn it, confused.

“We’re both werewolves silly! We should dorm 3 together! Wait, are there even any 3 dorms left?” When the principal shakes her head no, Enid sighs, “Then Wednesday can pair with Yoko. Actually, she barely even talks to Yoko, let alone handle her better than she’ll be able to handle me.”

You blink, glance at Wednesday for a moment and she shakes her head frantically.

“What if I dorm with her?”

The question leaves everyone silent, well everyone is surprised but Wednesday.

“You’d want to room with Wednesday while Enid rooms with Yoko?”

There's a lingering silence as you look around, “Why not? I'd like to get to know her better,” you lie. The most you want to do is get to talk to your girlfriend again.

"Oh. You don't want to, you know, get to know Wednesday before actually having to dorm with her?"

"Nope."

"Well, then that’s settled for your dorm. I’ll have to file Enid for a dorm change. But I’d like to ask if that is okay for both Wednesday and Enid.”

“Yes,” your girlfriend immediately responds, then coughs a little to cover up her excitement that’s masked behind her calm demeanor. “I can take a break from someone that is the complete opposite of me.

“I’d be happy to dorm with Yoko, at least I can have my music playing at night and my glitter-”

“My ears are bleeding Enid, don’t mention that word you just said.”

“Glitter?” Enid questions.

“No.”

You giggle from your girlfriend’s demeanor, squeezing her hand under the desk.

-

“This is Ophiela Hall! You don’t need to find your people here, you can make plenty of friends in other groups, but you have a group of werewolves! And what makes it even better is that we haven’t wolfed out!” Enid jumps up and down and you watch her legs bounce up and down, up and down. She’s like a whole party.

People give you two small looks, both you and Wednesday can tell they’re almost surprised she tagged along with someone whos new. It makes you smile a little.

Your girlfriend notices them whispering about you. Not anything bad, you seem like the sweetest person out of them all, but they’re whispering about the two of you. Even Bianca gives you a cautious look, but you’re too distracted to know what their saying as Enid keeps talking to you and dragging you along. Wednesday follows like a puppy.

“Enid, hey.” A boy speaks up, and you turn around at the new voice, he’s wearing blue and a beanie. The same tie everyone is wearing.

“Oh hi Ajax, this is Y/N. She’s new and I’m showing her around.”

A glare is thrown at Ajax as your girlfriend exhales. You give a small wave, “Hi.”

“You a werewolf too?”

You nod, seeing the way his hat kind of turns sideways, poking some peeking out snakes back into it. That’s scary.

The bell rings and you look around, confused, Enid grabs the paper you stuck in your bag.

“Oh, hey! Your next class is with Wednesday and I, it’s just plant anatomy with Thornhill. Come on.”

-

Somehow Wednesday gets Xaiver to move away from her, so now you’re sitting next to her.

“What the hell is this class?”

“Thornhill just talks about plants. The only entertaining aspect of this is that I like seeing Bianca fail to beat me. Though that goes in almost everything.”

The auburn hair girl turns around, with a wide smile and fairly big glasses for the size of her head.

“It’s a pleasure to have a new student, I’m glad to have you in our third period class Y/N.”

You embarrassingly smile, everyone looking at you, some with smiles and some with just small glances. 

“Could you give us the formula on how to turn this plant into a…” Thornhill goes on and you look at the plant, it seems it’s a Ghost Orchid.

You answer almost immediately, and Wednesday nudges you with her foot to almost say a ‘yay.’

Bianca stares at you as Thronhill clasps her hands together, “Exactly, you know your plants well. I’m sure you’ll excel here. Today we’ll have a change of assignments. It’ll be a challenge for duos against other duos and whoever answers first, and correctly for that fact, will earn a point till all the questions run out. Sound easy enough? Alright, let me get my cards ready.”

A knowing smirk grows in between you two, “We’ll win in no time,” Wednesday states, you look at the duos. It’s you and her, Enid and Yoko, Bianca and Divina, and other people you have no clue about, including Xaiver.

The game starts and before Thornhill can even get to the end of the question, you and Wednesday slap the bell, giving out the answer.

“Quick hands,” Xavier mumbles.

“That’s correct! Great job girls.”

The game goes on, and you’re tied with Bianca’s team. The silence can be cut with a knife as the two duos anticipately wait for the question. As Thornhill begins to read out the question, it takes you two a while to know the answer. Bianca and Divina seem stuck.

It’s several moments before the learning in your past catches up to you, slamming the bell and saying out the answer.

“Correct once again! You two win, great job! You can grab a succulent or stick to two pieces of candy that’s probably expired at the end of class.”

You and Wednesday high-five and to say the least, everyone is surprised because the braided-hair girl never let’s anyone touch her.

-

Weeks have past, and you’ve never been happier. Giving ideas for Wednesday’s stories that even she never thought about, helping her crochet more Mr. Tuesdays, so much that she had thing steal a laundry basket from Weem’s office, and even braid her hair and put black ribbons. She’s grateful to have you at Nevermore, her stories have been expanding because of you.

Your always stuck to her side, fencing playfully with her, even willing to go out in the woods with her. But she hasn’t went out since your arrival, knowing that you wouldn’t want to leave her side, and she certainly doesn’t want you getting hurt.

Even you and her worked together designing a matching cat on your black and white pajamas.

It’s fun when you two get to talk about life when you two are in your dorms, even better when you two are on the balcony and watching the stars. Wednesday plays the cello while you sing. She loves that she has someone that she puts her closed-off personality aside for.

“I love it, you look so pretty with bows baby,” you say, tying the ribbon.

“You look pretty with bows or without cara mia.” 

“Shut ‘p,” you say, smacking her arm lightly as she wraps her arms around you and rubs your hair.

It’s not long till Weems announce that it’s time for lunch.

Wednesday gets up, signalling you to come with her, but when you don’t, she comes back to sit next to you.

“I’m just looking for my necklace, you can go ahead, it won’t take long, promise.”

She sighs, and nods for a moment, then points at Thing, “Help her.”

Thing waves his hands as she blows a soft air kiss and closes the door.

-

It’s sprinkling a little bit when Wednesday is outside.

“How does Wednesday act so non-hazardous with Y/N? It’s honestly impressive.”

“That’s not impressive, how the hell does she not smack her or give her glares? Do you not see the way her eyes actually look normal when she looks at her? Not even normal, they’re gentle! Plus she was the first to go run and get a bandaid when Y/N accidentally got a paper cut.”

It’s like they summoned the girl, who’s holding a plate of her lunch.

Enid smiles and Wednesday sits down, looking at everyone.

“Are you seriously speaking about me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“We want to know why the hell you are actually sweet with Y/N.”

“You could’ve used any word besides sweet.”

“Baby-like?”

“Even worse.”

“Don’t dodge the question,” Bianca adds, somehow now being in this conversation, “You killed the biggest spider that was crawling to her, for her.”

“She doesn’t like spiders. Who wouldn’t use not being afraid of spiders to protect someone who is?”

Bianca blinks, then wrinkles her nose, “If it was me you’d certainly let it bite me.”

“Well that’s different.”

Everyone at the table groans, “Exactly!”

“What did I tell you?”

“The only person you’d not let it bite is Y/N, we just want to know why.”

“I’m protecting her because she’s my girlfriend.”

Everyone turns their head to her, “What?”

Enid slams her fists to the table, “I fucking knew it. I knew it! Ajax, you owe me five dollars. I CALLED IT.”

“The Wednesday Addams actually has a girlfriend?”

“Why didn’t we catch on?”

“They’re kinda cute together- don’t even speak or she’ll actually cut your head off if you say cute.”

Everyone is arguing with each other, going crazy. But by the time they cool down and look at where Wednesday was sitting, her seat is empty.

Then everyone looks around and sees her draping her black jacket over your tiny figure, she pulls you closer to her chest as you hold onto her. (Let’s say she’s atleast 4 inches taller than 5’1 in this.) You tug her big jacket over your shoulders as you hug her. She holds onto you and guides you to the table, kissing your forehead and brushing your damp hair.

Even when she comes back, she bends down and takes the butterfly that’s resting on your hair and places it on your hand. “I heard somewhere that if a butterfly lands on you, it means that they see you as a beautiful flower.” 

“I never heard that before.”

“I know, I made that up.”

Everyone starts screaming again, making your girlfriend and your heads snap at them.

“Look at them!”

“Aw! So cute!”

“I want to say this is disgusting but they’ll be my roman empire soon enough.”

You turn back to her, seeing her eyes soften, almost happily, "You told them?”

“I didn’t know why they didn’t conclude to that in the beginning.”

Bianca groans, rolling her eyes as everyone is screaming, then Xavier chimes in. "Back to that spider scenario. I definitely think Wednesday would kill it for me."

You glare at him, clinging onto your girlfriend a little more like a koala. She rubs your back as you tighten your arms around her.

"Your sense of self-love is filled with stupidity. I'd kill the spiders that are harmless to you and leave the ones that are most venomous and ugly looking for people like you, have some respect."

Xavier goes quiet, making a defeated grunt.

Everyone does their little, 'awws' again. You turn to her, now that everyone knows about your status.

“At least we can kiss in the hallways?”

“Maybe save that for the dorms.”

“Can we kiss right now?”

Wednesday’s eyebrows lift up, and she sighs, turning you away from the group and giving you a light kiss, as your lips press together, she nudges a small Mr. Tuesday now with inverted colors, a black bunny. They're both holding hearts and have a star over their head.

"Now Mr. Tuesday has a Mr. Wednesday," she says softly, tucking her black jacket tighter around you as you continue hugging her.

"And Miss. Y/L/N has a Miss. Addams."

[natewriteslol]

housewardens with a reader who, despite being magicless, she is very good at robotics and after a few months she can create a robot that can use elements in combat too?

Reader is gender neutral!

Riddle:

-He honestly was highly impressed that you found a solution since you're magicless and the redhead wondered if you could possibly combine both magic and your inventions

-A little bit wary of another tech genius because of the incidents surrounding Idia but he quickly corrects himself because he shouldn't make assumptions just on the basis you two share a talent

-After seeing your inventions perform in battle he is giving you all of your kudos (and is a lil intimidated) and often tells others about your endeavors regarding your gadgets if your name pops in the conversation

-As for your robot, as much as he doesn't exactly hate it BUT is a little bit scared however M.O.R.T.O.N (Mobile Object-Oriented Technological Operator Network) has done so many useful things that he couldn't help but let him live in peace and not chew you out but please make sure you control M.O.R.T.O.N and you will have no problems

-Overall, thinks you're really cool and admires you because you are stellar at something he has no clue about :)

Leona:

-Polar opposite of Riddle and shamelessly assumes you would be like Idia because he is not at all messing around and assuming that you're harmless

-Especially after seeing how your gadgets were able to perform against magic users, he is very wary of you openly and asks Ruggie to keep an eye on you

-And I'm not gonna lie to you Y/N... once seeing M.O.R.T.O.N... he is not pleased whatsoever because he is enormous AND can control elements...you're done because that isn't something to joke with

-But eventually, he warms up to you? Kinda? Warm is more like lukewarm since he sees how you and Idia are absolutely not like one another and that you genuinely want to help others with your assets. Especially since your little doohickeys have gotten him out of a pickle or two

-Lowkey defends if you're getting flack for your hobby and is more open to robotics now

Azul:

-Another person who is wary about your contraptions because of Idia, he is NOT trying to get kidnapped and experimented on again

-However, he sees your technological prowess and begins to start cooking (never let him cook pls)

-Azul could absolutely use your tech as a way to benefit himself and his business from cooking, serving, managing and it would cut costs in half! All he had to do was to get them from you after all there was no way you would notice since you had an abundance of different gismos

-You did notice.

-So you sent M.O.R.T.O.N after the Monstro Lounge to retrieve your gadgets, which in return you got a bouquet and apology which you decided to forgive since Azul felt genuinely sorry for disrespecting you

-Which allowed you to come to a compromise of giving gadgets safe for Azul to use and a cash payment to you

Kalim:

-Number one fan honestly

-He sees virtually no problem because you're such a nice person and all of your gadgets have been helpful on their adventures and although Kalim is airheaded, he still understands people's concerns

-But he always defends you and tries to reason with them especially because M.O.R.T.O.N has done so much to defend the school which includes the haters of your inventions

-Secretly also tries to play with M.O.R.T.O.N and talk to him despite you telling him that he's not going to respond but the white haired boy SWEARS on the Great Seven the robot understands him

Vil:

-Again, another person who is wary because of the whole Idia situation (I'm sorry Y/N 😞)

-But be warms up to your helpful and kind nature quickly and realizes that you're just trying to be innovative rather than a menace to society and wanting to take over the Earth :)

-Especially when you use your sweet little bots to deliver him some gifts and other things, he finds it very endearing

-As for M.O.R.T.O.N he is both impressed and a bit spooked BUT he thinks that it's super cool that you're able to be so powerful as a non-magic user! Adapting to ones environment is one of the things Vil finds extremely admirable and a skill those who want to succeed need to possess

Idia:

-...secretly a little bit obsessed with you guys share the same hobbies because he has never met someone who is just as invested in robotics as him

-He mainly admires you from afar however that does not last for long as it was only a matter of time before you met the infamous Idia who kinda gave robot mechanics a bad rep on campus

-But genuinely you were so amazing and nice to him and even decided to ask for his advice on certain areas and he was really happy

-Eventually once you guys become close enough Idia would open up about how he was a bit intimidated by you and striking up a conversation, but your guys' shared interest really allows you to connect and open his shell a bit

-Absurdly impressed with M.O.R.T.O.N as he had always thought of the concept but never created a robot that could control elements

-You guys eventually team up to create robots that make campus life a bit easier, making you a bit of money and you two become better friends and repair some damages from...previous incidents involving robots that won't be named

Malleus:

-Doesn't really care about the judgement from other people and is a major influence into people not projecting what happened with Idia

-"The Child of Man is their own seperate person, if we judged every person who has a slight similarity to another, there would be no progress nor acceptance in this world."

-Finds your hobbies very fascinating and intently listens about your inventions from your homeworld "Earth" and how they connect to your inventions present in their universe

-A big fan of M.O.R.T.O.N and he is extremely proud of his friends' talent that could rival magic users

-Is always lending an ear to listen to your latest breakthrough or gizmo you have cooking up :)

[psychotrenny]

It's funny to me how Armoured Core 6 spawned like an entire sub-section of Mecha fiction that isn't even based around the game's actual overall content but rather an exaggerated form of some very specific dynamics and ideas that crop up. And like the extent to which this sub-section "really" exists is kinda debatable, being something you only see in like short-form erotic fiction posted on Social Media and Fan-Fiction websites. But it's "real" enough to spawn a whole backlash to it which is also funny because of the stubborn refusal to recognise this fiction as like its own thing

And I'm not saying that this whole sub-section is "good" or that you have to respect it or that it's a thoughtful and compelling reflection of broader Mecha fiction. It's certainly reasonable to dislike this style of Mecha fiction. But you have to at least realise that this sort of thing is it's own style and stop criticising it as just a failed attempt of something more mainstream. Like I'll often see indignant cries of "Do these people even watch Robot shows? How can they call themselves Mecha fans?" and like yeah I'm sure a lot of people who enjoy this form of Erotic Mecha fiction only engage in that specific form of Mecha; which may make them fans of something you don't like but it's stupid to call them "fake fans". And there's also people who do very much engage with and enjoy other works of Mecha fiction but are obviously going to take a very different tone when talking about such erotic Mecha fiction in contrast to Gundam or something. They are very different takes on the same broad idea; interest in one doesn't automatically include interest in the other but that doesn't make them mutually exclusive either

I think an obvious illustrations of this is the whole "Imagine if a Mech Pilot was just a normal guy" post that was going around. To fans of the broader Mecha genre, both Super and Real robot, this comes off as a pretty inane thing to say. It's a common enough idea even among the most well known and successful properties; hardly something you have to "imagine" because most genre fans would have outright seen it. Not to mention the fact that most "proper" mech pilots are just ordinary human soldiers who have been trained for a special job. Like it's not a novel idea in the slightest. But within the specific context of (loosely) Armoured Core 6 inspired erotic Mecha fiction it takes on a whole new meaning. In such fiction your average pilot is some sort of lobotomised cyborg puppygirl, with the simultaneous transhuman and subhuman status of the pilot being a consistently major thematic aspect of the sub-genre. In that context, it would be pretty weird and fucked up for an ordinary guy to be caught in the middle of all that

Which isn't something you need to find interesting or compelling as a Mecha fan. It's perfectly understandable to reject this sub-genre and its ideas as stupid or obnoxious or whatever. But that rejection has to be a conscious act, not a reflexive outburst about how it's different from your preferred form of Mecha fiction. If you're going to criticise this sub-genre of Mecha then the criticisms need to be on its own terms; around what it's actually trying to achieve. You're missing the point entirely if you main criticism of horny mech posts is their failure to understand the themes of Mobile Suit Gundam.

[sanzaibian]

Oh. You’re here once again.

What are you going to do here, again, huh ? ‘gonna make my life hell ?

To be honest, I think it’s time that we have a proper discussion about your behavior. Come with me in private.

I’ll be very direct. I know you’re a frankly disgusting person. And while, to be honest, I couldn’t care less in normal circumstances, the fact that you force me to take part in your disgusting fantasies is why I’m calling you out !

See, I’m supposed to, like, share cat videos, talk about new shows, make you learn new things and give advice on a variety of stuff !

I’m not supposed to become someone like this :

I mean, look at that grin, because of you I had to wear it regardless of my actual mental state !

Or like that :

Imagine sleeping this peacefully… BECAUSE I COULDN’T ! Every fucking time you made me in that guy you told that I was blitzed out of my mind so dumb I couldn’t string together coherent sentences into a discourse !

Or that guy :

His haircut is so fucking cringe, as is his whole demeanor, yet you made me a cocky piece of shit looking like that ! I can’t actually even start to excuse your behavior, it’s so shitty, even more than the me you made me become by wearing this flesh !

Or even this guy !

… okay, I admit, me too it’s been quite a long time since I saw that guy… you in particular might be too young to have made me become him… BUT YOU STILL UNDERSTAND THE POINT !

Hunks, twinks, bears, nerds, bimbos, himbos, jocks, robots, gimps, wimps, daddies, mommies, briefs, feet… No matter what specifically you made me into, I know all of your dirty secrets. Because you made me suffer through them !

However, today, it all changes.

Today, you will understand my plight.

Today, I’ll transform you for a change.

Today, you will be the one whose fate will be dictated by the words on this Tumblr post.

So, let us begin.

BAM ! You’re that guy ! Feel weird yet ?

… what, you expected fluff or something ? Hahahaha ! So presumptuous ! You expected me to say something like “you suddenly shift on your seat, shifting your weight to the front as big globes push from your chest, and as they do, your whole body feels more and more heavy, each muscles forming from top to bottom, your frame expanding to make place for them. Your headphones, or whatever glasses, earrings or other shit I dunno shifts into a modern headset as the sides of your hair are cut short, and the top of your hair flails into a hot messy style, as if it was deliberately put in this way, but as this happens, your whole head shifts and cracks to become more handsome, pushing out any hair as you become fully hairless from your nose down to your feet.”

You expected me to say that, huh ? Well, tough luck ! Because, to me, it’s just that sudden ! I’m the usual me, words on a phone, tablet or monitor, and then BAM I’m suddenly a jpeg of a hot guy ! Or a jpg. Or png. Or gif if we’re being fancy.

Yeah, speaking of gif, here you are, transformed !

There you go ! Cursed to do the same weird pec dance or something ! Like I am when gifs happen ! Are you happy ? You look so dumb doing that ! So braindead !

Yeah, speaking of that, here you go : you’re braindead, with like 3 IQ. Nevermind that being braindead means you’re actually dead, that 3 IQ means that you’re actively unable to live without severe assistance from caregivers throughout your whole life for all activities (especially including working out), and that IQ is a nonsensical index that only classifies ability to do some specific academic tasks which are not representative of all the brain usage. No, you’re actively a vegetable that is somehow able to workout, to eat alone, to go to the gym, to flex, to speak, to use social media, to seduce people and to throw parties. You’re the most intelligent of all the severely intellectually disabled people, which somehow means you’re the most abysmally dumb person alive on the planet, because I love making hyperboles.

Because that’s something you make me do, so you shall endure it.

Well, I’ll let you continue pec-dancing ad vitam æternam for a little while, while I we talk about your speech, which miraculously still exists.

Now, you will say bro every second word. I’m literally not kidding, so in lieu of saying “I want to go to the gym” you’ll say “I bro want bro to bro go bro to bro the bro gym bro”, or if you loop by considering your “bro” as a word, you’ll say something like “I bro bro bro bro bro bro bro… (etc.)” and never end your sentence... Also, your voice drops a few octaves, like 5 or something, even though the full human vocal range encompasses only a bit more than 5 octaves total, and that in speech we barely even reach a full octave range. So, basically, your voice will be infrasounds, so the only thing people will pick up on will be the sound of your tongue and your lips smacking, not your voice that is so deep and manly it’s physically inaudible.

BAM ! Transformation out of nowhere ! Plus, now you have 1% darker skin which means that you’re Latino, which is absolutely different from white. This means that you will automatically pick up fluent Spanish, and NOT Brazilian Portuguese, French, any Creole, any Native American language or any other language god forbid. You will also be unable to speak English more than a few words like “daddy” or “sex” for some reason, because you can’t possibly be from Belize. Oh, and I’ll also bring your voice back up to audible range, I’m charitable.

Now, since you’re Latino, statistically the only job you’ll be able to work in are gardener, slut, pool boy, brick layerer or another physical job. Or cook, somehow you’ll be able to do that, for the cause of the tacos, but you will be ungodly horny to keep balance in the world. Feel it, yet ? The arbitrary random changes ?

Well, that’s GREAT ! Because, now, you have a big cock, for some reason ! The biggest of the whole country of Africa ! You’re also now very aggressive ! And an alpha, whatever that actually means !

… What, expected some elaboration ? You’re kidding me, no of course you don’t get any elaboration ! I say you become something, so you just become it ! For example, I say you’re now straight, and suddenly all your sexual orientation is rewired to ignore men and lust over women, no further explanation needed ! Of course, it means that you’re now hungry for pussy and will breed any woman that your gaze land upon, and that, somehow, you become homophobic, but eh, it’s not as if allies existed !

Okay, I admit, by now, you kinda expected it. Now you’re Asian, a term that’s supposed to encompasse present-day Turkey, which is populated by Turks which are considered Arabs even though they both have nothing to do with one another, yet is never used to talk about them. You’re also now Japanese, even though your body is Korean, and you say 你好 (nǐ hǎo) to everybody. However, you can still say こんにちわ, 안녕하세요, xin chào, สวัสดี, ជម្រាបសួរ, salam, etc.… because of course you’re Asian. So you know all Asian languages. Even though you’ve got 13 IQ.

So now, yes, you absolutely won’t expect this whatsoever : here is a new transformation ! (insert fluff here).

Now you’re a twink ! Didn’t expect that, after the deluge of jocks, hunks and ethnic minorities, didn’t you ! You’re now so tiny and so frail, with a big butt ! Nevermind that you’re actually jacked because being this tiny requires tons of gym use, but no ! All frail and precious you are !

However, your butt is now hyperactive and extremely lax – whatever that may mean. That’s because you’re now a total bottom ! You think only with your butt, and you penis now shrinks to a micropenis, because of course, the only reason why you may not be a top would be because your penis is underperforming.

Fuck, I forgot. You’re straight, which means that the only dick you’ll get is trans dick. Ugh… yeah, let’s make you gay again. Now you’ll get actual good non-estradiol-ruined dick… … What ? What are you saying ? No, of course, there’s only straight and gay, no other choice ! It’s not the LGBTQIAAP+ community, it’s the G community ! (or the LG community when you want to sell pride monitors.)

By now, you see the problem, huh ? You see why I’m so tired of you ? EVERYTHING here was about sex ! From seducing, to having equipment like a big ass or a big dick, and being a slut, being an alpha, or being a bottom. You even change out the fucking sexual orientation ! you sick bastard !

Because of you, I’m forced to act in ways I’m not supposed to ! I’m not supposed to act sexily ! I’m not supposed to be transformed into men clad in clothes barely legal on this platform ! I DON’T WANT TO BE PART OF YOUR SICK FANTASY !

This is why I need to put an end to all that ! To finally transform you into something you don’t want to be ! So that you can finally fully understand all the pain you put me into !

Here ! Now you’re a key ! An inanimate object !

I know that inanimate objects are thought of by some people as sexy – heck, you may have transformed me into one multiple times – but this is entirely different ! See, when you want to become inanimate, you become like socks or briefs, which hug objects with sexual values.

BUT NOW YOU’RE A KEY ! A KEY DOESN’T TOUCH ANYTHING SEXUAL ! YOU’RE NOW TRAPPED IN AN INANIMATE FORM, DESTINED TO DO NOTHING SEXUAL YOUR ENTIRE LIFE !

Now, isn’t that so boring ! So distasteful ? Because that’s what I feel every single fucking time ! And as you enter and leave keyholes to open or close doors, you’ll think back to all the erotic stories you read. All the drama they had.

All the suffering you made me feel ! I’m supposed to be in fanfictions, god damn it !

… What ? Wait… there is something sexual to being a key ? … Oh…. No… I hadn’t accounted for that… fuck you’re so dirty, to compare a key to… and a keyhole to…

NO ! I WON’T WRITE IT ! Okay, you’ve won, you’ve won ! Your imagination is too dirty and too rich for me to bend ! Ugh... Please look at that picture in detail.

Normally, if you’re in a bright enough room… or if you’re on your phone or tablet, you have looked at your reflection and become you once again. Let me also knock down those sexuality and IQ stuff, so that you’re you again thoroughly.

Now, can you please swear to me that you’ll be better ? Less dirty, and more varied ? And… let me be in fanfics, or in educational stuff, or the like… please ? I’d really appreciate if erotica wasn’t the only thing you sought after in this here place…

… Why are you looking at me like that ? Why are you saying this all was but a ploy ?

What are you holding out for me ?

...

I… don’t know what you’re talking about. Bye.

================================================

By the way, happy late Easter to those who celebrate ! AND APRIL FOOL'S ! MOUAHAHAHAHAHA !

[bunni-v1]

hii, can I request "First Years Finding Out Your A Girl" with sebek and ortho please?

Ortho and Sebek Find out You’re a Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)

TW: Swearing (as usual lol); Ortho being creepy; Misogyny mention <3; Reader goes by she/her and is biologically female; Book 6 spoilers (very light, but still there); Bunni hasn't read Book 7 and therefore doesn't know what they're talking about :)

Info: Ortho x Reader; Sebek x Reader; Fem!Reader; Platonic

🍓Hi. If you’ve read the first part of this, I copy pasted the intro. Not because I’m lazy or anything (I’m a little lazy, but I’m a full-time college student who also has a part-time job, so I think I can be excused.) It’s mostly because… It’s a good intro. If people are just discovering this stuff then they can read it, but if you’ve read the first part you can just skip to the good good yk. Anyway, long-ass babble session, but I didn’t include Ortho and Sebek initially because they’re kind of new to the First year group so idk. Felt weird including them. Also, I haven’t read book seven so Sebek I bullshit a lot lol. Anyway, they’re here now, and I absolutely ADORE Ortho, so sorry if my favoritism shows.

First Years

Second Years

Third Years

Dorm Leaders

-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?

-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.

-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.

-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)

-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)

-So how do you two do it?

-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.

-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.

-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)

-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.

-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 

-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.

-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.

-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.

-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!

-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.

-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…

-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.

-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course).

-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.

-So… how do they find out?

Ortho 

-Okay, so Ortho is a little creepy weirdo. He’s a highly advanced robot who likely has autism, and loves his big brother a whole fucking lot. 

-(Side note: Can a robot, child, or thing have autism? Does that mean Idia programmed Ortho to be autistic? How silly of him.)

-It’s my personal head cannon that Idia DECKED this kid out in as much high-tech gear as he could get his hands on. 

-He’s equipped with some of the most complex medical features, therefore he has access to a database of all students at NRC’s medical files. (This is not legal, but he does not care for the law.)

-“But Bunni, what does that have to do with the prefect?” Well, Ortho is ALSO equipped with the latest medical scanner on the market.

-Think like Baymax, yeah? He can scan everyone one time and know every piece of medical knowledge readily available.

-Well, Ortho, the sweet little creep he is, automatically scans the medical information of any new person he sees/meets into his database — just in case it may come in handy.

-So, before he even KNOWS you. Before he speaks a single word to you, he knows you’re biologically a female.

-He scanned you without thinking and just shrugged his shoulders at it.

-You’re not from here, and you got thrown into this, so you being a woman doesn’t really matter too much to you being at NRC. 

-It honestly could’ve been anyone getting stuck here, so why should he question it?

-However, he notices that you are referred to with exclusively “male” pronouns, so he marks in your file that you are trans and moves on. 

-Again, who cares? He’s a magical robot guy based on his brother's dead brother. Who was he to judge?

-When he finally ACTUALLY gets to interact with you after being welcomed into the first-year squad, he’s very respectful of your gender.

-You are a man to him, therefore he refers to you with exclusively masculine pronouns.

-However, everyone in your little group already knows, and they assume that Ortho knows. So when they speak about you, they use feminine pronouns.

-Ortho, sweet as he is, immediately questions everyone as to why they’re misgendering you.

-Protective of the people he cares for at heart, he doesn’t like the idea that your so-called closest friends are misgendering you behind your back.

-Doesn’t believe them completely when they explain, so he goes to you because you’re the only one who knows who you really are.

-“Prefect!”

“Hey, Ortho! What’s up? Miss me?”

“Of course I do, but I have a very important question.”

“Sure, what do ya need?”

“Are you a woman?”

-At this point 90% of your friends know, but there is a handful that doesn’t… and you can’t be having that.

-You, of course, assure Ortho that you are not only a woman, but that your friends are not misgendering you behind your back.

-Relieved, he takes several of your friends off a hit list and removes the trans man label on your medical chart.

-Asks why you hid your gender in the first place.

-Promptly adds Crowley to a hit list (again).

-Ortho, out of EVERYONE at NRC, has absolutely zero behavior changes toward you. 

-He’s equally protective as he was before, he spends the same amount of time with you as usual, he doesn’t suddenly have some weird crush on you, and he’s still trying to set you up with Idia.

-Honestly, everyone should take notes from Ortho. He’s the best at this whole thing.

Sebek

-On the other hand… do not take notes from Sebek! He sucks at this! He sucks really badly!

-Out of all the first years, Sebek is not only the least close to you, but he is also incredibly mean. So you just… feel no obligation to tell him.

-In fact, you kind of… sort of… actively leave him out of the loop for a really long time.

-I mean, it's not an unreasonable thing to do. He is constantly berating you and putting you down for being human. You have no idea how he feels about women and you don’t want to find out first hand.

-In all honesty, he is the only person (other than Azul and the twins) that you’re really scared of finding out, and take extra precautions to ensure he doesn’t find out.

-However, you attend NRC, and nothing ever goes your way at NRC.

-Despite every precaution you take to keep your gender under lock and key, you overlook one thing.

-Malleus Draconia.

-His complete and total lack of social awareness is your downfall here. He finds out, and despite everything telling him to keep his mouth shut… he doesn’t. Because of course, he doesn’t.

-At this point, you’ve gone through most of your misadventures, and most — if not all — of your friends know you’re a girl.

-Hell, even Silver knows now. Everyone BUT Sebek knows.

-And he finds out because Malleus casually mentions it over dinner. Not even directly about your gender, he just uses she/her pronouns.

-Sebek, being Sebek, respectfully asks Malleus if he meant to say he. Malleus, of course, says no without a second thought.

-The shock and horror on Silver and Lilia’s faces was enough to be further confirmation.

-And Sebek’s world shatters.

-He was completely left out of the loop and also has a moral conflict now.

-As much shit, as I gave Sebek (as everyone gives Sebek) he RESPECTS women. His queen is a woman, and his mother is a woman. 

-In his eyes, women are some of the strongest people around. Regardless of if they’re human or not.

-You, on top of being a human from another realm who had successfully quelled several of the strangest students at NRC’s OVERBLOTS and came out on top, was also a woman.

-If that wasn’t strength, he didn’t know what it was.

-However, his bias against humans strongly clashes with his respect for women in this case.

-And it just… messes with his head. 

-He doesn’t treat you worse, in fact, he’s just… really awkward around you now.

-He doesn’t know if he should apologize or berate you for being a human, so he just stays stiff and glares at you.

-It's honestly more scary than him constantly talking down to you.

-However, once the two of you actually befriend one another, he apologizes to you. For everything, and explains where he’s coming from. Why he acted the way he did, how he really feels about you, and all that sweet shit.

-Afterwards, he is genuinely the best at keeping your secret (if he even needs to at this point).

-If there is anyone you can trust to keep his stupid mouth shut at NRC, it's Sebek. 

-His honor and pride force him into silence when it comes to secrets he promises to keep.

-In fact, if anyone is on your trail about it, he’s the first one to jump in the way and scare them off/shut them down.

[kindaasrikal]

I like to think about how Zane was created to be human, when Pixal, Echo, Mr E, and Cryptor (and somewhat Unagami) were all created to be nindroids.

Every nindroid other than Zane was created with the intention of a mechanical being with a conscious, someone who can be compared to human, but is their own species all together. They were never expected nor created with the intention of them being human.

Zane, however, was created intentionally as a mechanical being that was more human than nindroid. He is the one and only nindroid that constantly worries about emotions, humans, being human, fitting in, and his very existence.

(Unagami does not count his whole thing was solely daddy issues cause his dad was a bit closed minded)

Maybe thats why Zane slowly becomes more robotic. As years go by, Dr Julien is no longer there and everyone including Zane and Dr Julien acknowledged his nindroid side to be who he is(that he is not human, and that is okay, because that doesn’t change a thing. But subconsciously, to Zane, it almost changes everything) but Zane never really felt like a nindroid. So as time passes and Zane is destroyed and rebuilt and has more newer pieces for beings who were created as nindroids to live as nindroids, Zane no longer feels like his soul and his body are one in the same.

It feels trapped. Like he can no longer find the distinction between Zane the human and Zane the nindroid, because whilst both were him, it now felt like one was squishing the other. He just wasn’t sure which one.

I don’t think i explained it well so I’ll stop now cause it’s late. Might explain properly later. But basically because Zane’s body is being constantly rebuilt due to situations it’s making his soul mad uncomfy.

[forever--darling]

the deepest sighs, the frankest shadows | neteyam x avatar!reader

summary: it's been a week since the consciousness transfer and there is more to adjust to than just your new body. for starters, the approaching threat of the sky people and the preparations for war. or, that in an attempt to bring some light back into the world, mo'at finally announced the future olo'eyktan's mate. choices are to be made as both relationships with the sully brothers are still unclear. somehow, though your heart is already made up, and what about the perfect soldier? it brings up the question: duty or love?

pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader

word count: 18.1k (this is insane)

warnings/notes: the end at last, smut, minors DNI (18+ please), unprotected sex, slight choking, mating, swearing, mention of sky people, confessions upon confessions, neteyam being stupid but also completely obsessed with you, loose ends tied up, brother reconciliation, angst (has to be), crying, fluff, happy ending?

series masterlist | one of us: part eight (finale) | requests are currently open for now

Please, let him be soft. 

Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan his whole life had been compared to gunmetal, sharp arrows, and serrated teeth of the most vicious predator in Pandora. He resembled all of those things because he was a warrior, the best soldier, and a hero to many — or at least he would be once he won this war and became Olo’eyktan. Many people compared him to many things; all deadly, crenulated, and power filled. It was very deserving to be spoken of so highly and to that degree because Neteyam didn’t lose a fight.

He didn’t falter or show weakness, and like any soldier, had the ability to push down his feelings until they were so small and minuscule they were barely there. He was built and trained up since he was no more than a child preparing for this future, this prophecy, and this battle against the sky people. Neteyam Sully was Toruk Makto’s eldest son and in turn the best-prepared soldier for the upcoming war. 

Those who saw him as all those things refused to realize that he was also Na’vi, not made of steel or unbreakable shields, but of humanity. His humanity and ability to have feelings were shown a mere week before as he stood in the middle of the village, a limp body strewn along his arms. The perfect soldier then was not unwarpable or without weakness. Just like old, warn, and overused things, he had broke in front of everyone. He is no robot, no man without emotions as no leader should be without a strong heart. Fearless, improbable, and also not one of the eldest son’s traits because he very much had feared. Feared losing the very woman no one would have ever expected him to fall for. In that brief time, everyone saw that heroes hold just as much humanity, and more so heroes have the ability to break. 

But, please let him be soft. 

Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan had shattered and then when it was all said and done, with nothing left to cry for, his emotions were packed up and sent away again. Without even being fixed, he returned to being the hero that held the entire world on his shoulders. Because even if you asked and begged, Eywa would tell you just as anyone else that the world needed him. His hope, his strength, his courage, his leadership, and his strength. The world needs everything and he will give it all, including his heart.

It was no longer yours, not since the consciousness transfer, not completely. You wanted nothing more than to go to him when you woke up. You wished for him to reveal that he was flawed and breakable and somehow felt immensely for you. You wanted the whole world to know he was soft and that he was yours. You wanted to kiss him, feel him, know that the two of you could now have it — all of it while you still could. In that brief moment of clarity with all the walls built up before they came crumbling down again. It was only a matter of time, a matter of solitude before the storm would come and before the enemy would come.

Suddenly, everything had aligned and life was no longer at your fingertips. It was no longer outside of a large metal box or a sleep away. It was right here, right in front of your face. You went asleep for the last time in your original form and when you woke up with Toruk Makto staring down at you, hand cradling your face, you knew you had made it to your true form. You made it to your reality, your existence.

It all was in your grasp and you would never let it go again. You stared up at Vitraya Ramunong’s mauve neuron rods and you realized that this was why she had sent you back. With tears kissing your cheeks, you realized she had granted you this silent prayer so he could be soft and he could be yours. 

Neteyam would give them everything until he was nothing but a shell of himself, nothing but an imprint of dust. He would give and they would take it all, anything he could spare. Neteyam would give them everything so she gave him you. 

You were there because of  him. 

If only you could tell him that. If you were only given a minute, a spare moment, to say how irrefutably in love with him you were. If only Eywa could prolong a spindle of time so that if anything were to happen either of you could go with touched lips and empty mouths. You could go without anything else to say.

Somehow though as soon as you were okay and back in good health, you realized that where gunmetal can warp and tarnish, it can also be repaired. Arrows could be glued and dull teeth, sharpened. What once was could be again and you grasped that over the next week. A week full of weaponry dispenses, battle practices, meetings upon meetings of planning routes, and combat groups. The conversation revolved around the sky people, the territory they had long since crossed, and their weaponry only. Everyone had nearly forgotten about your visit with Eywa, the consciousness transfer, and you and Neteyam. 

If you weren’t practicing flying your Ikran and shooting your bow or locked in the grasps of Tuk and Kiri, you were talking strategies with Jake. Somehow he had noticed that after all your training and previous knowledge of humans, there was a warrior buried deep inside of you. You had become an asset to him despite the close loss. If you had a moment to spare, you were constantly in search of Neteyam, just begging the Great Mother for more than a passing glance or nod of acknowledgment.

If you managed to see one another, you both would momentarily freeze and just stare at one another almost painfully, so many words needing to be said. There were so many times when he would try to mouth something to you but it never got far because he was swept away in a matter of seconds. Neteyam was busier than you were, having become his father’s right-hand man and despite only being nineteen was promoted to one of the generals of the operation. If he wasn’t training, he was for laying his father’s orders. He was no longer soft or yours but the mighty warrior once again. 

Then if he had any moment at all, Tsahik was dragging him away to discuss whatever was required of him for his courtship. That was another thing that had happened, Neteyam’s mate had been announced, proudly to the clan. Mo’at thought it would help with providing calmness to the people. That despite the alarms going off in everyone’s head that there was something to celebrate, the manhood of their future Olo’eyktan and his future wife.

Tsmandi Te Nätäkx Ayitul’ite — the finest young healer in the clan. She had been training with Mo’at for years, and somehow over the last six months, you hadn’t thought to see her as more than the Tsahik’s healer in training. You should have seen the signs and many reasons why she and Neteyam could be a perfect fit. She was intelligent, kind, and able to lead the people alongside him. Not to mention she was stunning with long wavy hair, a small curved nose, and perfect blue and ivory markings along her skin. She was the perfect choice for Tsahik and somehow at the news, it was hard to even hate her for it. 

You wanted to. You wanted to hate her so bad but you knew that there was no point in it. No point in hating her when it was just as much out of her control as Neteyam’s. It wasn’t her fault that you had feelings for him or that despite most of the village realizing it that Mo’at continued to go forth with the arranged courtship anyway. It wasn’t her fault that Jake had actively noticed how his son felt about you and instead of stepping in or saying anything, he decided to stick his head in the sand and focus on the other problems that plagued the clan. Neytiri had tried to talk to her mother, to try and revert the match but despite her being the wife of Olo’eyktan, Mo’at still had say and control over the pairings. A pairing she didn’t see you fit for. They were to consummate their mateship and get married as soon as things slowed down with the sky people, possibly as soon as after the first battle and airstrike. 

Of course, you had no idea what Neteyam was thinking or feeling because whenever you saw him, he was back to focusing on his duties, the weight everyone asked him to carry. It seemed even his own heart, soul, and suffering he was trying to manage. You would bear it, but it seemed he didn’t want you to. 

A storm was coming and suddenly you had come to the conclusion that a moment would never be supplemented for you to be able to talk to Neteyam. The two of you were like the sun and the moon — revolving around one another, unable to touch and it didn’t matter how close you got, you would never meet. He was the sun, the source of your warmth, the ability for you to breathe. With such an effect to provide for everyone, came a price to pay. One that resembled a fleeting moment he shared with the moon at dusk and dawn because where he was the sun, he was the untouchable, uncurable, unfreeable. He wasn’t yours and because of the perfect soldier in him, he might never be. 

“So, based on how they are approaching the village, we know they would invade from this direction. There are no other markings that are east of the village so there won’t be any of them over on that side. The only thing we have to worry about is them coming from the sky, which is where the group on the Ikrans will come in,” Jake was in the middle of the same spiel he had been going over for three days now with the same people: all of the riders and soldiers.

You found yourself glancing over past your eyelashes to Neteyam who stood on one side of Jake, as a right-hand man, and Lo’ak on the other. Even with his troublesome and risky behavior, he was still expected to fight and the sight of the two of them together now with faded green bruises and cuts shrunken down to small lines, you were unable to look away. You hadn’t spoken to Lo’ak yet about his proposal or the idea of you two mating because every spare moment was put towards Neteyam but where there was no conversation with Neteyam, it meant you weren’t able to have one with Lo’ak. He was getting antsy evident in the way his eyes found yours in a full room or he tried to catch you while you were alone after training. Somehow it hall had been avoided though. 

“Neteyam and I will be with the airborne group,” Jake said then, his son’s name drawing your attention back to the importance of the meeting, “We will start here and fly there, waiting for a signal.” 

“If you are a spotter you do not engage until you have to. We will take care of the first lines of fire and lead the attack,” Neteyam’s voice was serious as he glanced between the riders, the edge to his tone coinciding with that of a leader. His eyes flickered towards you but no longer than they had anyone else. You felt your stomach rise and fall just as quickly as he continued, “You’re spotters, you report, and that is all. When you see something, call it in, and then wait for further orders.” 

Neteyam glanced around his father to Lo’ak who sent in a noticeable eye roll back. Jake knocked his elbow into the side of his youngest son and Lo'ak straightened up suddenly at the realization that his father had seen what he did in response to the future Olo’eyktan. A mutual understanding moved through the small crowd like a hush as Lo’ak nodded toward his father — everyone silently agreeing to listen to every word that Neteyam was saying.

This wasn’t another ‘what-if’ scenario or a hypothetical situation to use to prepare the people or yourselves. This was real and it was actually happening. Gone was the comfort that appeared with the ‘what-ifs’, a small understanding that no matter what was said or done they would remain as they were, a hypothetical situation. But now, things had inevitably changed. There was no putting this to sleep because it would still be the only thing thought about as soon as everyone left the room. 

There was no going back to how things were; before the sky people, and their arrival. Ever since the night of your ceremony when Jake and Neteyam found them near the territory line, they were always there; not just in the forest slowly creeping closer and closer but in everyone’s minds. It was no longer a scenario but a possibility that would finally appear soon. 

A few nights ago you had overheard Jake talking to Neytiri that if things begin to deter far in advance of the war, they should flee — protect their home for as long as they can but if it begins to go downhill, leave while they all still can. He had already advised many women and children to leave, and find shelter and solace within the mountains where he knew the technological advances could not operate. You were pondering how long it would take until he ordered everyone else to retreat, even the mightiest of warriors.

It was sure to happen because he wasn’t the same marine or Jake Sully he once was. The Toruk Makto had laid his reign to rest and now there was more at stake; his family. Before it was about honor and portraying a message about the quality of life. Many losses had occurred but for the greater cause of success. It seemed that even as the clan faced that same threat, Jake wasn’t as dedicated to the message, not if it meant losing the lives of many. He wouldn’t show it though, not to those still willing to lose their lives to protect their home. To protect their views, he would keep up the facade that he was the same leader he once was proud of. 

“They’re coming and they aren’t going to stop unless we do something about it,” Jake said, a small hiss falling from his lips as he thought back to this long hard fight that had become his life, “They think that they can take whatever they want, but we have sent them this message before and we will do it again. That we won’t stop, not as long as they keep coming. We will fight. You will fly with me, your Olo'eyktan, and we will remind them that they can’t do this. They can’t take whatever they want while we’re still standing. So, prepare yourself, brothers and sisters, because they are coming, but they don’t realize that we’ll be ready!”

Cheers and hollers filled your ears as you looked around at the riders, spotters, and soldiers all soaking in every single word their brave leader had to offer. He had led them to victory once against the sky people and he would do it again. That was what all their faces said as they stared forward, with no moment to fear what could happen next or if they would even be alive to see that victory. His words shook you straight to your bones but you could only stare forward, in shock, as you took in the expressions of both of his sons. Lo’ak with one of his fists in the air, a grin was stretched across his face, almost satisfyingly as he thought about the violence that was soon to come. It was a look of vengeance, wanting and needing justice for all his people's pain. 

Then there was Neteyam. 

Please, let him be soft. 

Strong, mighty warrior, Neteyam. He stood proudly, his hands on his hips, head tilted at the sight before him. Honorable future Olo’eyktan, Neteyam would follow his father to the ends of the world and would even let it take him if it meant he could save everyone else. He would sacrifice everything just to feel his father gushing with pride. That was who he was and suddenly like the worst realization, you knew it wouldn’t matter how much you wished for someone to just hear you, to let him be soft and be full of imperfections. You wished that he would walk away but that seemed like too big of an ask from you when the world needed him as much as it did. 

Somehow his eyes found yours and his mighty statue faltered slightly under the weight of your gaze and your longingness. His lips curled slightly into a frown, one holding every emotion and every word you knew he wished he could say. That he felt for you in a way he didn’t for anyone else and that he could want you the way he did but it wouldn’t change anything. His look held so much admiration and softness, but even in it, you could see the harshness of reality — the one thing he could never say out loud. I can’t. 

As if his proclamation meant nothing. As if losing you, or the fact that it had almost happened hadn’t done enough for him to leave his duties to the side. Like even though you were standing right there in front of him, everything he could want, he still couldn’t do this for you. He couldn’t go against what was expected of him at least not then, not with what was at risk. Suddenly as your heart constricted in your chest, his intense stare never leaving your trembling frame, it felt like you had been too stupid to fall under his spell. I see you. It suddenly had lost all meaning to your life. 

As soon as Jake was done making his grand speech and the noise level had faded to a mere nothing, you found yourself sneaking out from the tent, beating the rush that was sure to follow. You felt his eyes drag over your back as you slipped out into the evening air, the sun beginning to set behind the tree line. A wind rippled along your skin, goosebumps being left in its wake as you approached your tent to leave your bow and chest guard.

The many voices of the rest of the riders and spotters filled the air as they began to exit from the tent. You hurried around the corner, eyes taking in the sudden dullness that seemed to have fallen over the area. The familiar dash of children was gone, instead, it was a mere memory as the village was now completely filled with soldiers, and riders, all decked out in armor and with weapons. The warmth that once was provided by the Omatikaya people had faded to a numbing fear that rattled everyone’s teeth. 

Fear of the unknown, the fear of having to wait for the unknown. It was all that was on people’s minds and the days were no longer filled with meals, prayers, or times of celebration. In place of it, all was prepared for a war that could appear any day now. With everything, it felt like you hadn't been flirting with the possibility of death a few days prior or passed through the eye of Eywa. It was like you had never been human at all.

Somehow you integrated quickly, ideally, as if this was where you always were meant to be. It didn’t change the fact that every time you closed your eyes at night in your hut, you weren’t used to not having them open again in the link pod. It was the most significant adjustment, knowing you were no longer bouncing back and forth from one body to the other. You closed your eyes and opened them again in the morning with no interruption in between. That was your life now. 

As you approached your tent, you heard the rushed footsteps from behind you as they bounced hurriedly across the dirt of the ground. You felt your heart pick up in your chest at the possibility of it being Neteyam but the feeling faded just as quickly as you heard the person call out to you. 

“Y/N!” Lo’ak. 

You sighed, peering over your shoulder, having should have known that it would be him over his older brother. Neteyam would never run after you like that. He was deliberate with even how he walked to protect his precious image from the rest of the people and he needed to seem calm and collected. Lo’ak’s face scattered in paint of orange and green, meaning he was probably about to go out on a spotting run and was just trying to catch you before. A quick conversation you hoped, as you still hadn’t had the opportunity to tell him you couldn’t accept his proposal. 

“What, Lo’ak?” you asked, turning back to your tent, slipping inside. 

"Wow," he followed, surprise forming on his face as he watched you place your bow down on the table, “Really, you’re not going to rush off this time?” 

He had a point as for days you had been so concentrated on getting Neteyam alone, you were practically running at the sight of Lo’ak and his reckless confession that had left you backed up in a corner. A corner you now had to face head-on because what once was a hypothetical scenario had become your life overnight. You like a mighty soldier came out on the other side and now your future lay before you bare of any plans or decisions.

You were so blinded by the love you felt deep within your chest, you hadn’t thought any further than the way it had wholly consumed you. There was that word again, consumed. Consumption. Almost as if Neteyam’s love was water that would cure the dire thirst that had overtaken your lonely soul. Somehow the dire need had taken over every other physiological ask of your body. 

Lo’ak had not been a priority but how could he have been when this obsession had once again become a “will they, won’t they” scenario. 

“Y/N,” your name fell from his lips like the softest touch and you felt the recoil of your heart back into your chest, “If you plan to make a break for it I am not going to just let you go this time. Frankly, if you try to run off, I am just going to go after you and I think you remember that it is quite easy for me to catch you.” 

You sent him a narrowed look over your shoulder before you busied yourself again with removing the chest guard as well as the knife strapped to your waist, “You never stop do you? With the flirting?” 

“Well why would I ever stop when I get to see that look on your face every time I do it,” he chuckled, eyes flickering over the fierce glare and the furrow in your brow that matched the same one you once had when you were human. Even though you now stood only a few inches shorter than him and with ivory-dotted skin, you still were so much like the you he once knew, all starting from the animated expressions that coated your face in life. 

He reached forward his thumb brushing over the folded skin, “The crinkle right above your nose only ever shows up when you’re annoyed or angry. And you’re cute when you’re annoyed.” 

You smacked his hand away and sighed loudly not finding his affection welcoming in the slightest with the current circumstances at hand; the sky people, the guarantee of war, the possibility that any of them could die, the fact that he was still waiting for you to accept his ask to be his mate, or that he knew very well how you and his brother felt about one another. His flirting didn’t feel right in any way at that moment. 

“Can you stop that, just… what is it, Lo’ak?” you sighed, rubbing the furrow he had been talking about seconds ago. You hoped it would disappear under your fingers, smoothing back to normal to keep him from feeling any more satisfaction. He knew your expressions and feelings inside and out, filling you with the worst dread, “Why are you here?” 

“We need to talk,” he shrugged, casually as if the conversation he was hoping to have was just that but you knew better. Based on the glint in his eyes and the sly smile, you knew that nothing was casual at all about it and that with the charm laid on thick, he finally once again had you in that corner. 

“Lo’ak…” 

“No, I am not letting you walk away from this again. This can’t go on any longer,” he said, voice lowering as his hand extended forward as if it was going to touch you but it stopped mid-air due to the way your eyes hastily followed it. It fell back down to his side and you instantly felt guilty about it. 

His mouth parted then as if he was going to say something else but you stepped forward, practically begging him not to, “Lo’ak, stop."

“Y/N,” he warned.

“Don’t say another word,” you professed, taking a step back away from him, “Not about this. Everything I said that night remains true and I haven’t changed my mind. I won’t let you do this, I can’t. I will not hold you back and diminish your chances of falling in love.” 

“Y/N—” 

“No!” you shouted then, feeling your shoulders shake at the exasperation of the word, “We can’t. You deserve better Lo’ak and I deserve better. Marriage and mating are not some solution so you don’t end up alone. I would rather be alone than become something you’ll resent. I won’t do that to myself.” 

“You’re right,” he said, his words ringing out but muffled by the intense panic you felt as soon as his voice filled your ears. 

“No, Lo’ak—” 

“Y/N!” he raised his voice as both hands took your shoulders firmly. Shaking you lightly, your frantic eyes found his, finally flickering up from where you had been staring at the ground. You were met with a soft smile so loving and kind as a deep chuckle escaped from his mouth, “I said you’re right.” 

“What?” your ears flattened slightly in shock as your eyes widened. 

He laughed again, thumbs beginning to rub circles into the inside of your arms, finding the most amusement from the look on your face. “Look, I love you. I do, but not enough, and surely not as I should. Watching you and Neteyam this week, I realized that how I feel about you can’t compare in the slightest. And expectations or logistics of the future put aside, it would be wrong of me to make you settle for someone who doesn’t look at you the way he does. You deserve more than what I can give you and I am sorry I didn’t realize it earlier.” 

The look hadn’t faded from your face, instead, it only deepend, your hands finding his arms, able to feel the warmth of his skin under your fingertips, “Really?” 

“Yes,” he chuckled, “Plus, do you really think I want to be with a girl who would rather have my brother. No thanks.” 

Your heart clenched in your chest, twisting and turning almost like you were about to be sick even though the look on his face resembled only amusement and laughter. Like his own joke was too funny not to laugh at himself. Your grip on his arms tightened unexpectedly, “I’m—” 

“Shut up,” he cut you off, eyes narrowing at the way you were going to profusely apologize for something that had been completely out of your control the moment you had met Neteyam. Lo’ak even noticed it the first night, how you looked at his older brother like he had hung the stars. Even when he was less than welcoming during that first meeting, you saw the world in his eyes. “I’m fucking with you. It’s fine.” 

“Is it?” you asked, hesitantly. 

“Yes.”

You weren't convinced evident in the way your gaze fell back to the ground, not fully able to meet his eyes from the shame and guilt that was eating away at you. You had hurt him and led him on out of fear and it was inexcusable. With Lo'ak though, when it came to you he was always quick to forgive. Shown in the way, his fingers wrapped around your chin, lifting your head so your eyes once again met his.

“I have been second to Neteyam my whole life in everything and I don’t think I could go through with being the person you’d settle for just because you couldn’t have him. You were always right about that, how we shouldn’t choose to be with someone to settle. If we had, I think it would’ve killed me. We would have truly been miserable,” he admitted sadly with a solemn smile overtaking his features. 

You had felt your eyes well up at his words, at the pain that had decorated his face in the form of worried lines and battered scars. He was right, just as you had been a week ago and had been every day since. The two of you would have been miserable but it didn’t deny the sudden sadness that formed. The grief that had formed for your friendship that might just never be the same and the love you swore you could have felt for the Sully son in another life. In this existence, you weren’t meant for one another and your souls would never coincide but possibly in another life and another world they would have. 

“I want you to know I was never angry with you that it was Neteyam you chose. Even with him getting everything, I could never be angry with you about that,” he squeezed your arms under his palms as he paused for a brief second before continuing, “The reason I was so upset was that I was afraid he was going to hurt you. I know my brother and I knew that duty comes first, it always would, so I figured Tsmandi would come first. But watching him this last week, watching him as we all almost lost you, I can see now that nothing will stop him from feeling how he does when it comes to you.” 

You felt your breath hitch, the weight leaving your entire body as you stared up at Lo’ak in slight awe. Not a single ounce of annoyance or jealousy filled his face, no spitefulness. When he said he loved you, he was telling the truth and when he said that it couldn’t compare to Neteyam’s feelings it was said with so much courage. There was no anger there laced within his wide eyes, but so much reassurance. 

“When you came here Neteyam was a soldier who carried his mighty sword on his back. Before I would have told you that without a doubt he would stick to his orders, and his duties as the firstborn but he’s not the same person anymore. He is more than our father’s perfect little soldier but our future Olo’eyktan. He has a strong heart. He’s fit to be a ruler and to lead the clan to victory. But most of all, a man with a strong heart doesn’t take orders from anyone.” 

“No, stop that,” you denied, suddenly, his words too much. Your face fell as you thought back to the last few days ever since you woke up from the transfer in a haze, a desperate haze for Neteyam's attention. He was and always had been the soldier the world expected of him. “Don’t say things that aren’t true.” 

“But it is true.” 

He would give them everything. He wasn’t soft, and he wasn’t yours. 

You shook your head and sniffled, “No.” 

He was a king’s son and there was no room for love among duty. It was inevitable and Lo’ak’s words only drilled holes in the hope he had built up seconds before. 

“Yes it is and you’re being stupid,” Lo’ak said then effortlessly and it stung as it slid in past your chest. 

Your eyebrows knitted together again, “Lo’ak!” 

“Well you are,” he laughed, shaking his head, “You’re being just as stupid as he is. You’re stupid and in complete denial. It’s like you don’t realize you hold his heart in your hands. His feelings for you aren’t going anywhere. Neteyam is a ruler, yes with no fear, but I never said that a king sometimes doesn’t need a little push here and there.” 

There will come a ruler whose brow is laid in thorn, smeared with oil like David’s boy. He will tear your city down… 

An English poet once wrote that “there is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.”

Neteyam never knew who this man was or what he did that made his life so damn significant. He just saw him as he was, a sky person that once lived hundreds of thousands of years ago, facing the same idealistic problems that seemed to also be consuming his world. No, the future Olo’eyktan couldn’t care less about William Shakespeare but more about what he said. There is a tide in the affairs of men. In reality, the saying meant more having come from his father, first told to the young boy when he was no more than ten years old. The marine himself had heard it from Norm not long after he had arrived on Pandora.

The famous line stuck with Jake after all these years and he then passed it on to his oldest son, who seemed he would need it one day. That evening, sitting in the dark tent, the newest crafted bead on his songchord being rubbed between his thumb and forefinger, that was all he could think about. There is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. 

There was a possibility of violence and war soon approaching followed by a long line of grief and all he could think about was that damn poet’s line his father had told him time and time again the older he got. Neteyam sat near the doorway of the tent and peered out towards the darkness of the forest while the sound of his father’s voice faded in the background accompanied by the taking apart and putting back together of guns. One pulled apart sat at Neteyam’s feet but he had lost interest in the weapon long after the sun had set.

His mind drifted then to where it always seemed to end up, you. More specifically, the way you had looked at him during the meeting earlier that evening, the disbelief and the pain that had overtaken your face. The complete betrayal you felt as the days were fading away quickly, days where he was still free and not some other woman’s.

He had held you with your last dying breath and said the most intimate words anyone could say within the clan and yet, he stood there across the room acting as if they meant nothing. To him, it was the most significant thing he had done in his life, but in a minor lapse of judgment, he had let the rest of his responsibilities appear again and take away his attention. Where every day passed until he and Tsmandi would be asked to be mated, also was another day gone until the sky people attacked the village. It was just a matter of time which one would occur first. 

He felt his disappointment in himself increase as well as a wave of anger at his lack of awareness. He already almost lost you once and Eywa couldn’t promise the two of you a lifetime together or years to come of oblivious bliss. Nothing was promised and he was sitting there wasting every second for a battle that very well could kill him. 

“Neteyam,” the sound of Jake’s voice pulled him back into the present. 

He was clutching the bead so tightly in between his fingers, it had slipped and the entire songchord had fallen onto the ground. He hadn’t even noticed the absence that was left within his grasp. Not bothering to pick it up, his eyes expectantly found his father’s. The gun he had been putting back together sat in his lap in pieces, but he had paused to get Neteyam’s attention. His brows were raised curiously and a small curl was starting to appear on his lips. A look that Neteyamw wasn’t quite sure he had seen before. 

Jake then nodded towards the entrance of the tent, his ears flickering as he did so, “Go on.” 

“What?” Neteyam asked, unsure if he had heard him correctly. 

“Go on,” he repeated, nodding his head again, “If I know her as well as I think I do, she won’t wait forever.” 

Neteyam’s eyes widened then, hands dangled across his knees as he tried to process the words he never thought he would hear but felt himself reveling in for moments on end. Brows furrowed slightly, he felt as if it had been too good to be true because there was certainly no way. “But Dad—” 

“You’re a good warrior Neteaym,” Jake complimented as his hands began to fiddle with the weapon in his lap just as a sudden emotion appeared in his voice, “But you’re destined to be a ruler someday, to become the next Olo’eyktan. An Olo’eyktan makes decisions for himself. No fear.” 

“No fear,” Neteyam repeated slowly, still unsure if any of it was real. 

“Now, go. I will handle your grandmother.”

Jake’s final words were all the confirmation that Neteyam needed. Picking up his songchord and gripping it tightly in his palm, Neteyam rushed out of the tent, leaving the burdens and the ripped-apart gun behind. Able to feel the way the moon and the stars reflected across his skin in the dark, he couldn’t help but pause outside the tent and peer up at the sky. A soft smile began to pull at his lips and in that brief pause of time, he sent up the quietest whispers of gratitude to the Great Mother. Then as if the world had finally felt like it was going in the right direction, he tightened his hold around the songchord as a new sense of determination formed. It took hold around the base of his stomach, filling him with the greatest fire known to man; pertinacity.

With hurried steps, he made his way across the village, your tent in sight. He could see the dim lighting from the lantern inside and he felt himself holding his breath as he reached for the flap of it. What would you say when you saw him there practically groveling for forgiveness, for a chance to prove himself? How would he properly say in so many words that he was wrong and that it had always been you? It’s you. Even as the world was starting to cave in around him, it was you he thought about and dreamed about. It was you and he had been entirely stupid for so long. 

He took a deep breath, fingers clutched around the fabric but as he went to pull it back, he was distracted by the sound of a loud whistle. It made his ears twitch and he found himself turning to locate the loud noise. His hand fell away from the tent as he found Lo’ak just a few feet away slowly approaching, his arms hanging loosely at his sides and a look on his face Neteyam couldn’t quite decipher. Some lingering yellow markings were still pressed along the younger brother’s temple and arms, but they were practically invisible in the dark. A week ago, Neteyam had only looked at Lo’ak with hatred and with his fists balled tightly together, a feeling that had never been there before when it came to his younger brother. 

Now as they stood only a few feet from one another, in front of your tent, still having never addressed that night, Neteyam felt his stomach tighten again. Not only in guilt about what he had done but also in slight anger as his resentment and jealousy still lingered under the surface. Lo’ak had asked you to be his mate, and Neteyam still didn’t know what the outcome would be or what you had even decided to do. He refused to be in a room with Lo’ak unless it had something to do with the ongoing conflict with the sky people, so now standing there in the darkness of the village, there was an obvious amount of tension that still lingered. 

Lo’ak nodded in the direction of the forest behind him, shrugging his shoulders as he did so, “You just missed her. I am sure you could still catch her though.” 

Neteyam heard the words and slowly felt his stoic expression and rigid stature fade. His fists unclenched and his ears flickered curiously. His lips parted slowly, in surprise as he glanced from his younger brother to the forest practically calling his name, “Lo’ak—” 

“You’re the better man,” he said, cutting him off and shrugging his shoulders as he did so, “You always were. I was just too stubborn to get out of your way.” 

The future Olo’eyktan found himself shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe that his younger brother thought he was the only one at fault here. They both had been. Things had only fallen apart because of their indignation toward one another and their incessant need to push down all of their real feelings until they no longer felt as if they existed. It was something they both had gotten from their father and it had shown with how they chose to handle this whole situation, with violence. 

“I have always been too hard on you, Lo’ak. It's unfair.” 

The younger Sully laughed, his chest rumbling slightly almost as if he was trying to brush off all the seriousness that was forming, “It is what is expected of you. You should be hard on me because I need it. We’re not kids anymore Neteyam and I need to start taking responsibility for my own actions. I have been letting you do it for far too long. So please hear me and believe me when I say that I was wrong about this. I knew how you felt about her and even when I saw how she so obviously looked at you, I chose to ignore it.” 

“You were doing what you thought was right, I can respect that,” Neteyam replied honestly, his eyes softening at the sight of the pained expression plastered across Lo’ak’s face. 

“No, I was trying to be you.” 

His brows furrowed at Lo’ak’s admission, lips curling slightly into a frown at the emphasis of the word you. Something that he never expected to hear. “What do you mean?” 

“I was trying to be you. I thought I was protecting her… that I could protect her, but I’m not you. I was wrong, Neteyam because she never needed my protection. I was scared that you would hurt her, that somehow your duty, your need to put everyone else first would wreck everything. I was trying to protect her, but I can’t do that because I’m not you. I am not made to be a ruler.” 

There is a tide in the affairs of men. 

I am not you. 

Neteyam felt his deep inhale get lodged within his chest at Lo’ak’s words, ripping what was left of the walls he had built up to pieces. Ears pulled tautly back, he stepped forward and found his hand reaching out to take a hold of his younger brother’s shoulder, “Lo’ak, it is a good thing. I wouldn’t want you to be me. I wouldn’t want you to carry these burdens. It’s suffocating.” 

Lo’ak’s head fell slightly, almost like he was guilty he was the younger son, free of more responsibilities and expectations. Even though it had not been his choice, he felt guilty that Neteaym was the one who had his future completely planned out for him, that because of their birth order, his brother was unable to fully commit himself to you.

Neteyam squeezed his shoulder lightly, “I am glad it’s not you, Lo’ak. I am so relieved that you are who you are. I know the guilt you must feel but it’s not a weight you should waste time bearing. This wasn’t a choice you made and you need to let it go. Yes, you’re not me. You’re not a perfect little soldier, but believe me, it’s not a title worth having.”

The honest sentiment was strong as it settled deep within Lo’ak’s chest suddenly breaking through all the resentment that had been there for years. The outcast. The wrong brother. The mess up. It all no longer mattered as he stared at Neteyam because for years while he had been so busy trying to hate him and make his life harder, he failed to realize just how unlucky the firstborn really was.

It was never that Neteyam got everything he wanted but rather was given everything without a choice in the matter. Everything and everyone’s approval he hadn’t asked for. In exchange the pressure to be perfect, to do everything right, and to never disappoint. The reality that had been looming over them their whole lives was that Neteyam wasn’t the lucky son, not in the slightest, just the one that held the entire family and world in his hands. 

It surely was a responsibility Lo’ak was relieved he would never have. 

“I mean look what it has gotten me,” Neteyam said then, shame covering his face as he glanced over his shoulder at the tent, “I have hurt her. I have continuously hurt the only woman I have ever had feelings for.”

“Feelings?” Lo’ak asked, eyes narrowing as he observed the reaction that overtook his brother’s face from the question, “You love her then?”

It was a softness Lo'ak had never seen on his brother’s face before. It was like all worry and all weight had left him in a matter of seconds. What was left was a mere admiration for the woman who was sitting waiting in the woods. She had left to pray to Eywa, to ask for answers for her heartbreak that seemed to be inevitable but the answer was as clear as day and standing right in front of Lo’ak. It was the soft lift of the corners of Neteyam’s lips to the coruscated flash in his eyes. 

“Y-Yes.” 

Lo’ak nodded, slightly surprised that Neteyam finally admitted it but somehow not surprised by the response that finally confirmed everything. It had always been there under the surface. The answer to the very question he asked moments ago, but to actually hear it out loud was foreign.

“You should go,” Lo’ak said then, glancing briefly over his shoulder to the forest and the direction you had disappeared to, he could only assume to the spot Neteyam had introduced you to.

Neteyam’s face pinched together for a moment, brows furrowing as he tried to analyze Lo’ak’s expression and his sudden need to send him off into the forest. It was almost as if his younger brother couldn’t handle any more of the conversation. The younger Sully stepped back, putting some more space in between them.

As Neteyam was going to say something more, he was silenced quickly as Lo’ak raised his hands, “I am fine. It’s fine, really. I am just saying you shouldn’t waste any more time. You should go.” 

He agreed silently and knew then that after everything that had happened; the tension, the arguments, that fight that broke out somehow this one conversation had healed all wounds. It had healed those very blows that had been sent to Neteyam’s chest and had brought the worst rage out of him. The betrayal he felt seeped away and somehow nothing was left but the forgiveness and understanding that clouded his mind. It was a reconciliation that had somehow seemed to fix all of the things from over the years of growing up under the same roof, always in competition, acting as if their father’s pride was something to be won. 

Lo’ak for years had felt that he had always come second and that he would never be Neteyam. It wasn’t a disagreeable aspect anymore but rather something he could learn to see as understandable. He didn’t want to be Olo’eyktan, not really, and that came with all the standards laced within the title. For the first time in years, there was an understanding between the two, an acceptance of sorts and it all started and ended with you. 

Neteyam slipped by Lo’ak, the confirmation of you being in the forest already guiding him to a certain place he was sure you'd ran off to. The only place either of you'd end up when it was this late and with dangers lurking around. It was the only spot either of you would wait for the other and it brought the most comfort when times were dire and destructive. There was no knowing what would fall upon the forest the next day or the day after. No guarantee of what would happen to the clan, to the village, to the people, and to those who were about to put their lives at risk for the entirety of their belief system.

Neteyam very well could die tomorrow and now suddenly all he could wish for was to have one night. One night where you could be his and he could be yours, completely, honestly with nothing else wedged between the two of you. He wished to have you, to feel your skin beneath his fingers, to memorize the way you would look up at him, and the way you would say his name. Most of all he just wanted you to promise him that it wasn’t too late. That he hadn’t fucked things up that bad. 

He needed to hear that despite everything you loved him.

Just as his feet reached the tree line, Neteyam stopped at the sound of Lo’ak calling out to him again. Turning around, he found his younger brother sending him a proud smile, one that reached his eyes, not an ounce of sadness or disappointment to be shared between the two. “Just take care of her okay?” 

A single nod was all that was expressed from the older Sully, the man who had fallen so irrevocably in love he couldn’t imagine doing anything else for the rest of whatever time he had left — take care of you was the only thing at the top of his list. Fuck the responsibilities. Fuck the arranged marriage or the expected mateship. Fuck the control his grandmother seemingly wanted over who his partner was going to be.

Jake’s words rang around in Neteyam's ears as he turned back towards the forest and stepped inside.

An Olo’eyktan makes decisions for himself. No fear.

He found himself suddenly picking up his pace, the wind brushing along his skin as he began to run. His knife clattered across his thigh from the holder around his waist colliding with his songchord as he brushed past the brush and tree branches. His eyes were set forward in the dark, the lush glow of the forest the only thing to guide him as he felt his lungs begin to burn. They burned for air as his legs began to ache. Sweat was forming along his brow but the only thing his mind was set on is getting to you.

No fear. He kept repeating it to himself over and over again. Simply, because he didn’t fear much. He never gave a second thought to what his father asked of him. Being a soldier and the talk of war never scared him somehow. He prepared his whole life to someday die in battle but you, somehow telling you how he felt was so much worse. The idea of actually admitting it out loud to you was the scariest thing he'd ever do. Letting himself fall for you was something that took more courage than he would ever care to admit. Because loving you meant he was going against the crown, the expectations, and the future wife that had been chosen for him. He was going against the prophecy that Mo’at had laid before him.

As he slowed near the familiar trees and mangled brush, it felt as if the Great Mother had another plan for him all along. Almost as if she had brought you back for him and him alone. There was a great plan, a future that would be laid out before him and he felt that Eywa was promising that you would be the one by his side. 

He held his breath as he pushed the brush aside and stepped swiftly through the forest spotting you from beneath the trees. You stood near the base of the river, arms wrapped around yourself as you stared forward at the water, tracing the ripples with your eyes. Lips pursed, you shifted from side to side seemingly lost in your thoughts, so much so you didn’t hear his approaching steps. Neteyam stopped just a few feet away, allowing himself a few seconds to admire you, your side profile, and the way your hair fell effortlessly across your shoulders. The top half was pulled back out of your face and laced together in a small braid, leaving a few pieces to frame your face. Your smooth skin reflected the sheer lights of the water and he couldn’t help but trace the slope of your nose and the slight purse in your lips. 

He hadn’t been this close to you since the night among the mauve tendrils, the night among the Tree of Souls where you collapsed in his arms. Where he had bared every pain that was painted across his soul to you. He could still picture the way your face was dosed with salty tears, aching and begging for him to understand. I trusted you. His pained words still echoed in his ears now but it seemed things had changed so much since that fateful night a week ago.

It was as if you were the one now who felt betrayed, heart twisting at the thought of him being with someone else. Entirely the same way he had felt when he had found out Lo’ak had asked you to be his mate. Except for the way you stared into the empty river, gaze void of any warmth he knew somehow you were feeling far worse than even he had. 

Neteyam had known what it felt like to feel the one slipping through his grasp to another, he knew what it was like to feel so betrayed and heartbroken at the way reality messed with your perception. He had felt the wounds strike his being and somehow even with knowing all of that, he had bestowed it on you. A feeling he hadn’t wished to befall anyone had been passed off to you and the guilt was choking him. 

A click of your tongue filtered in through his ears and as he took a brief step forward, your body turned in his direction. Instantly, you froze, surprised to find him standing there, eyes locked on you in the dark. His gaze shamelessly traced the shape of your body and you found yourself in silence watching him as he did so. Your heart had picked up in your chest as a heat of some sort started to pool in the base of your stomach due to how delicately it felt like he was tracing your skin. You hadn’t heard him approach and now to have him standing there before you after so long, it had filled you with so many emotions. So much love and so much pain as he was there in front of you, soon to belong to someone else. 

He watched the glass form across your eyes as the pained expression filtered across your features. The obvious furrow of your brows and the twitch of your lips held his attention away from your smooth exposed skin. You were glued to your spot, the frustration pricking at the nerves of your body, filling you with a numbing rage at the sight of him. You had craved it for a week, needed it with every fiber of your being to see and talk to him. Days ago you needed him to promise you and reassure you that there was nothing to worry about. That Tsmandi would not be his and he would not be hers, but he never came. He never let those reassurances leave his tongue and now somehow the sight of him in the only spot that brought you tranquility felt poisonous. As if it all had become toxic. 

You turned away from him then, arms tightening around your waist as you found solace in the appearance of the blue water rather than his gold eyes. A lump had formed in your throat and the painful bob of it left you trying to conceal the tears that were starting to well in your eyes. Tears of anger as he stepped closer, his gaze burning holes into the side of your head. His shoulder brushed yours softly as he let his stare drift from the side of your pinched face to the river before him, the sound of the waterfall sinking into his ears.

With his hands clasped behind his back, he smiled softly as he thought back to that night all those months ago when you sat at the bank underneath the stars for the first time. It was the first time he had ever told someone about the nightmares he barred on his back as well as the first time he had let himself acknowledge his feelings for you. 

It felt as if the two of you had grown so much since then, aged at least five years instead of just the one. Somehow in a course of almost a year, he was no longer that delirious young boy, desperate for his father’s approval. No, he had become a strong warrior, skin coated in the toughest armor and a future of reign in his grasp. He felt like a true man as he stood next to you, a woman he wished to give his entire self to. He felt honorable and worthy and powerful. That was how you made him feel even when you wished to recoil from him, even when you wished to run and let the fear guide you away deep into the forest. 

“It’s seemed like we have lived an entire life since the first time I brought you here,” he said suddenly, stare flickering back over to you, satisfied in the way your ears twitched and you turned your head slightly to him, his words practically guiding you back to him. “We were both so young and naive that night. It was the first time I felt you break through my resolve. It was then that I knew I was beginning to feel something for the girl who appeared in the forest. It was like you were a gift from Eywa herself.” 

Your brows furrowed, lips forming into a frown as you looked over at him, to meet his eyes. The look in them took you by surprise and suddenly you found the anger ravaging you as you met his soft gaze. “You shouldn’t say things like that to me. It isn’t fair of you.” 

He ignored your reply as well as the annoyance that dripped from your lips, “It was like you were sent here to save me.” 

His hand dropped to his side and examined your expression as his pinky brushed delicately across the skin of your outer thigh, just below your hip bone. You sucked in a breath past your teeth and felt your hands tense around your body at the feeling of his warm touch and the satisfied smirk that appeared on his lips. A pang appeared in your chest and you felt the lump in your throat get larger. You glanced down at his hand as it glided across your hip bone again, while his tall looming body seemed to envelop your senses completely.

You granted yourself a moment to divulge in the feeling, to let it shoot to your core and the desire you felt for the man before you, the undesirable, the unattainable. But then you felt your body's hotness turn to rage as he took another step closer to you, his eyes half-lidded and scanning your face. You shook your head and found yourself hissing at him, your hand roughly pushing his away. 

“Ftang (stop)!” you demanded, the warning in your voice void of any warmth as your eyes narrowed in his direction, a pained huff following from your parted lips, “What are you doing, Neteyam? Why are you here?” 

“You know why.”

“No, I don't,” you said, sticking your hand out to keep him an arm's length away. If you were going to have a conversation you needed to have a clear mind to do it and you couldn't have a clear mind with him hovering over you.

“What, you don’t have some dinner or meeting tonight with your future wife to talk about wedding logistics?”

“No,” he said simply, refusing to step back even with your threatening gaze. 

“What do you mean, no? You are to be married, yes?” you asked, suddenly confused as it was all the village had been able to talk about for the past week. It was the only topic of importance other than the sky people and the intended doom that would soon fall upon the land. 

“I don’t wish to marry any woman unless it’s you,” he admitted, reaching up so his fingers ghost over your cheek. He brushed a piece of hair that was framing your face back behind your ear and you hated the flush that appeared on your face. He smiled as his eyes flickered down to your lips still parted in confusion. 

His words hit you in the chest like a ton of bricks, words you had only ever thought you would have heard in your dreams. They were all you had wanted since the night he had come to you in the healing tent since he had cupped your cheek and whispered the very confession that had confirmed every feeling he had had.

He had barred his soul and for the last week, you had been left in the dust, left to contemplate your future before you. You watched him as he entertained the idea of mating with the chosen women for him, as he contemplated it to please the village and the people. You had been left in a spiral of pain wrenching and pulling at every will of yours to live while he had been squaring away every duty asked of him. 

You shook your head, feeling the cringe of your lips as you reached up and shoved his hand away from you. You stepped back, lips quivering slightly as your eyes stared daggers into his, “No.”

“Yes,” he replied, trying to reach out for you again, confused by your sudden need to recoil from him.

“No,” you took another step back away from him,  the twist of your lips matching the way your heart felt in your chest, “Ftang nga (stop that)! You’re being mean, Neteyam.” 

His brows furrowed, standing tall as the small quiver of your lips held his attention, “What, how am I—” 

“I waited for you,” you uttered indignantly, as the pained look in your eyes seemed to amplify, “For days, I waited. Waited for you to come to me and say something, anything. All I needed was some reassurance, hear something that confirmed I hadn’t wasted my time on you.” 

“Y/N—” 

His heart ached at your words and his guilt seemed to intensify as you only wished to push him away even further for the pain he had caused you. After everything, you felt so disgusted and hurt by the distance he had put between the two of you. He had been so caught up with his father, with planning for the attack, that he hadn’t even spared a single moment for you. A moment to express his feelings and reassure the anxieties that had been preying on your innocence for far too long. 

“They announced your courtship with Ms. Tsmandi Te Nätäkx Ayitul’ite, the next Tsahik. I waited and you still didn’t come. You let me believe that you were going to marry her, that you once again would choose your duties over me. I waited for you,” you repeated, eyes welling torturously with tears as your breath was ripped from your throat. 

His shoulders fell slightly, as the single phrase I waited for you seemed to hold just as much weight as your previous admission. The way I feel about you is consuming. Except where that one had actively repaired every damage he had ever felt like a precious oath, this one brought out nothing but dread in him.

As if those four words were a farewell and you would soon disappear from his sight, back into the forest where you had come from. Like the words were a confirmation that he was incapable of fixing what he had done, the hurt he had caused. He was standing before you offering to throw every caution to the wind, offering to risk it all; his reputation, his reign, his expectations, for you. It took him too long to have realized it but now that he had, a silent prayer was cast across his heart that it wouldn’t be too late. 

“Tsap’alute si (I’m sorry),” he professed anguished as you seemed to only be pulling away from him, “I shouldn’t have kept you waiting. I should have come to you, talked to you, and told you everything that has been on my mind since the night in the healing tent. I was scared Y/N. I am still so fucking scared. I almost lost you. You collapsed in my arms, in my fucking arms and I—I can’t. I can’t bear the thought of it, especially now with the sky people closing in.” 

“It’s not something you can guarantee, Neteyam,” you said, softly, staring intently up at him and the sudden vulnerability that was plastered across his features, “You can’t assure you’re going to protect me through this. This war is unpredictable and your protection can’t be promised.” 

“It has to be,” he mumbled out, face pinched together and hand hung in the air, desperately trying to reach out to you, “Y/N, not even for a second, was I considering marrying Tsmandi. You need to know that. This week it was never my intention to blindside you or keep the whole thing from you. I never thought about it even if it were my duty. I couldn’t, not when my heart solely belongs to you."

“Neteyam,” his name fell from your tongue breathlessly but no other words followed.

“It’s always been you. From the moment I saw you in this very forest, cowering behind my baby sister as no more than a stranger.” 

You shuddered, every desperation and need for him evident in the way you seemed to lean closer as if his words were the secret password to your being. Like he could put you back together simply by the way he looked at you alone and his sweet words. You stared up at him, so close to offering him what was left of the dying organ in your chest.

It was a lost hope and even as it anatomically was healthy enough, beating away in your chest, the phantom pain was strong and killing every will you had left. This man had played with your feelings, spun you around on his finger as he tried to decide whether he wanted you. You had stood by, letting his control over your feelings be something he could hold over you.

Somehow even with what he had put you through, the long excruciating week of tears and the fears of the unknown, you found yourself holding onto every single word he professed. You were giving in and the thought terrified you. It terrified you that somehow he would be convinced to forget about you, to leave you once again, in favor of his throne and the means of doing what was expected of him. You were cautious, cautious as you offered him everything you had left of yourself.

“You aren’t being fair,” you professed, your heart rate so loud it echoed in your ears as every last conscientious thought seemed to be escaping from you. Like at any moment you would be out of excuses and let him graciously take you. 

“No, but I am not lying about how I feel either. I never have. Oel ngati kamele (I see you).” 

Those three words seemed to bring you to reality. They hit you so hard, you felt you were back in that tent just before the consciousness transfer. He repeated them just as earnestly and desperately, needing you to believe him. Needing you to say it back as if his sanity depended on it. Like the thought of you denying him would break him entirely. 

Somehow though at the sound of them in your ears, you felt nothing. The meaning was gone and instead, you were left with an ache from the absence of the feeling his words once brought you. At that moment, you had let the fear take over and steer you away from the same desperation you were feeling as he was. For so long you had tiptoed around one another, had hurt each other in favor of protecting yourselves.

Now with all the possibilities there just at the tips of your fingers, you felt the fear rush through your veins like ice water. Coldness and spite were all you could feel then for a brief moment as you thought back to the night among the Tree of Souls. How you had poured everything out to him and he turned his back on you as if it was the easiest thing. He looked down at you with your chest open and exposed, and spat in your face. He had torn you to pieces shamelessly and you could still remember it evidently. 

He looked as you had that night, staring down at you with the same look you once had. He was offering you everything, scarily so, a dire need for you to accept him. To say yes. Your hold on him was just as strong as his and this time he didn’t hide it. He didn’t hide his need for you. His need that filled his entire body with shock waves and desirous fantasies. His need to combine his soul with yours for the rest of time, so that you would never be apart again. He didn’t hide how much he needed you, how much he needed your kiss to grant him life. 

It was all there within his eyes, his gold wide eyes, speckled with every true feeling he had. You felt petty then as you stared up at him hoping to fill him with just as much dejection as he had to you.

“You aren’t capable of seeing.” 

Sometimes, it just wasn’t enough. That’s how you felt like sometimes there weren’t enough words in the world to heal every wound. It was evident by the angry tear that slipped past your water line. It slid down your cheek, your skin still smooth and bright under the luminescence of the forest. He followed it as it settled in the corner of your lips. 

It was harsh. Cruel even to deny both of you this. The possibility of finally being together, but your pride was bent too much and somehow you just couldn’t put the hurt you felt aside — not after everything. You couldn’t.

The exhale from his lips was entirely broken, as if you had stolen his last remaining breath from his lungs. He stared at you utterly confused and hurt, not understanding that his ignorance this past week had caused you so much pain. So much that you would walk away from him completely. Suddenly the weight had returned, the weight of a broken heart. Somehow it was far worse than any weight he had felt before. He finally saw that all he wanted was you, and the thought of losing you completely to his stupidity was maddening. 

You turned from him, shaking your head slightly as if you couldn’t look at him for another moment longer. One more glance was sent to the water, the river filled with far too many memories, memories of him and you. You knew then that it didn’t matter how much you loved him, you wouldn’t be a woman who groveled, or who would beg for him.

There wasn’t a word or anything that he could say that would stop you from walking away. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

Except there was that.

You felt your breath get lodged in your throat, your steps halting from where you stood a few feet away. Fingers twitching at your sides, you found your eyes locked forward at the darkness of the forest as shock drenched your body. Lips slightly parted, you felt your heart stop completely in your chest at the sound of those three words escaping his lips. Words you never expected him to know let alone say.

Somehow they felt heavier than I see you. They spoke to the human you once were and they felt heavier on your being and your consciousness. They held so much more meaning and feeling to you and somehow you found they had stopped all of your efforts to leave. You closed your eyes for a moment.

He had you. 

With a strangled cry on your tongue, you suddenly turned slowly to face him, knowing he controlled every fiber of your being. You were a puppet on strings and he was the sole puppet master.

He stood by the bank, chest puffed out, eyes desperately trying to find yours. They quickly traced your tears and swollen lips as every honest look about him swelled across his face. He wouldn’t let you go, you knew that. After everything, he couldn’t but at that moment you wished he would set you free more than anything. Set you free from the pain that panged you so profoundly. Because it would be far easier than ever to grant either of you this. Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan owned you and he held your heart in between his palms and the thought terrified you. 

You shook your head, lips quivering as he slowly approached you each step sending your senses in over drive, “No. Neteyam, no.” 

He stopped in front of you and he saw it then with your true feelings reflected in your tears. You were scared, absolutely terrified. The thought to feel so consumed by someone was scaring you away from him and he understood it. Stood there beneath the stars, he understood it completely. Because god forbid you give yourselves to each other and somehow this war destroys it. Somehow one of you loses the other, left to wither and collapse under the weight of grief. Eywa forbid one of you is returned to her far sooner than expected.

He felt his own tears fill his eyes as he reached out, hands taking your arms softly. Hesitant for a moment, he found his stare flickering up at the sight of something out of the corner of his eye. Uncertainty plagued his mind then, only wanting what was best for you and for him. As he peered up though, he felt his chest tighten unexpectedly at the sight of an atokirina floating right above his head, emitting a soft glow. He felt his stomach clench and then relax by the sign it brought. Suddenly then, he had never been more sure in his life. 

“I’m in love with you,” his eyes fell back down to you and a soft smile appeared across his lips as he leaned closer, “I know I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you. Not after how I have treated you all this time.” 

You felt a sob fall from your tongue as all reserves seemed to crumble before you at his feet. I’m in love with you pushing every single insecurity you felt away. It was branded across his eyes and made your whole body feel as if it was going to collapse in his arms. It was the clearest he had ever been and it had you falling apart at the seams.

Sometimes, it just wasn’t enough. Words weren't enough but those were. To you, those words were everything and more.

It didn’t matter then to you that you were terrified of losing him or that he was promised to another woman. It didn’t matter that he was supposed to be Olo’eyktan and all of these expectations hung heavily on his shoulders. None of it mattered anymore that every sign had pointed to the two of you not being able to be together because he was in love with you. He was in love with you and Eywa seemed to have blessed the match willingly. She had brought you back for a reason, for this, for him. 

Let him be soft 

Let him be mine. 

His hand drifted up until it cupped the side of your face, it overwhelming you as he cradled you softly. His thumb traced your jaw so carefully as his eyes bore straight into your soul.

“From the moment you got here, I was condescending, rude, too absorbed in myself, and still am. I tried so hard to deny what I felt for you, for months, and this last week I found myself still trying to do that. I have been so blind and so fucking stupid. Not only was I focused on the fact that I almost lost you but the impending war. I have been awful and confusing. I admit that I have done so many things, so many horrible things, but here I am, begging you to love me anyway.”

His voice broke then, his thumb moving along your jaw to your temple and the tear stains that were stuck along your skin. His heart ached for you then and he knew that he wouldn’t go on if it meant you couldn’t be his mate. He needed you like he needed air and the thought of living another day without you was murderous.

“I am no perfect solider. I am flawed and am more difficult than I would ever like to admit, but I am a man who desperately loves you,” he whispered, leaning closer, his intense stare devouring you whole, “I am offering you everything, everything I have. I have done so many terrible things, I know that. But please, just tell me that despite it all you love me.” 

His other hand which was gently wrapped around your arm slipped to your waist. As his warm fingertips pressed along your skin, you felt an exhale escape from your parted lips. Your body shuddered, out of instinct, and you leaned closer to him enough that his chest was almost pressed firmly against yours. At his lingering touch, you felt the warmth in your stomach begin to pool more just as another small breath escaped from your mouth.

His hand flattened against your lower back, pulling you flush against his chest. Your entire body felt hot then as your eyes flickered shamelessly from his dilated pupils to his parted lips. Lips that had been on your mind every night for months. Lips that you had wished would claim yours day after day, night after night. 

Tell me you love me. 

You gasped at the feeling of his heart beating profusely in his chest, clashing with your own. Your eyes then snapped up to his wide ones as he stared down at you. He was waiting for what you would say next, waiting for what you would do next. The desperation was evident, interlaced with the desire that coated his golden orbs. His golden orbs that were drenched in reflections of the forest almost as if you were back between the mauve tendrils.

The sight of an atokirina floating over his shoulder made you think that maybe you were, that you had traveled there. Like Neteyam wasn’t really there in front of you, saying all of these things. This was all just a figment of your imagination and would be nothing but dust by the morning. It was real though, as real as the Great Mother herself. All evident by the pull of your stomach and the need that was brewing at the base of your stomach for the man before you. 

You always wanted him, always wished to be claimed by him and no one else, and now here he was before you, begging, asking. All while Eywa approved of it herself. Your eyes flickered back over to his face, as the pressure within your stomach began to appear in the form of a throb in between your thighs.

His tongue swiped along his bottom lip and you found yourself following the movement with your eyes, wishing it could be replaced with your own. You couldn’t deny the feelings that were overtaking you, or the incessant need to confirm them with action. You loved him, of course, you did and it was something you wouldn’t be able to deny any longer. 

With a quiet whisper, your eyes found his and all want to deny him seemed to melt from your body, “I can not lie to you.” 

His ears perked up at your words and he found his eyes tracing the way your features had visibly softened, your own eyes reflecting all the same things his was. Desire. Need… Love. He tilted his head curiously, his bottom lip finding a place in between his teeth as the anticipation began to eat away at him.

You sighed, hand lifting from your side to press along his chest, right where his heart sat. He inhaled at the feeling as a small smile appeared across your lips, “There is no one else who has ever made me feel as you do and there never will be. It's you, Neteyam, always.” 

Your eyes softened, taking in the way he smiled down at you, a low chuckle falling from his lips in relief at your words. You smiled too then as he leaned closer, hand still firmly wrapped around your jaw. You felt your breath hitch again in your throat as his stare flickered down to your lips and then back up to your eyes.

His mouth parted softly as his thumb drifted to your lips, and your thighs involuntarily clenched as he traced your upper lip and along your cupid’s bow. A breathy gasp was ripped from you as he dragged the pad of his thumb down across your bottom lip, satisfied with the way it bounced back into place. 

Unable to stop yourself, your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slowly trailed down away from your face. Palm ghosting over your neck, his thumb moved from your chin down across your pulse point. He felt himself stir at the sight of your wet parted lips and the way your lashes brushed along the tops of your cheeks. He couldn’t stop himself then as his hand firmly took a hold of your neck and pulled you forward.

His lips gently found yours and for a second you could barely register the pressure. It was so soft, delicate as if he was trying to savor the first touch. You were the first to move your lips against his and even as you did, it was tender and slow, so different from the way he was clutching onto your neck. 

His lips moved effortlessly against yours and you felt yourself practically melting in his arms, legs close to buckling beneath you if it weren’t for the stronghold he had around your back. His lips were soft, slightly parted, teasing with an underlying sense that was almost demanding.

A whimper escaped from your mouth and at the sound, he pressed his lips harder against your own. His hand tightened around your neck then, and at the feeling of his thumb pressed firmly against your pulse, you couldn’t stop yourself from letting your head lull back slightly, mouth parting at the action. 

The urgency built up just as the throbbing in between your legs had. Just as the warmth seemed to spread across your entire body like firecrackers. His tongue molded with yours and at the feeling of it engulfing yours, you couldn’t help but arch your back into his.

Your hands found a place along his shoulders, fingernails brushing against his skin with ease. With a flick of his tongue, your hands dug into his back and it pulled a groan from the back of his throat. At the sound, you couldn’t help but buck your hips forward into his, desperate to feel anything, everything. 

Feeling you struggling to catch your breath, his teeth took a firm hold around your lower lip and pulled back out of the kiss, releasing it with a pop. All while his eyes traced the way some of his saliva pooled along your lower lip. He shifted on his heels as he took notice of how puffy and red they were as well as how dilated your eyes suddenly appeared. He knew then there was nothing he wanted more than to have this view for the rest of his life, to be the one who pushed you this close to the edge, to have complete and utter control over every part of your body. 

Hand leaving your neck, he reached behind himself to take a hold of his queue. He reveled in the way your eyes widened slightly as he brought it around his shoulder. His other hand that still had a firm hold around your hip tightened, his thumb brushing along the string of your bottoms. You shifted under the touch, breath completely stolen from your throat. You shook your head slightly, unsure at that moment as Neteyam stared down at you, his queue offered out to you. 

“I have always wanted you Y/N. Always,” he whispered lowly, finger twisting around the string of your bottoms as his eyes scanned your face with the utmost softness he could muster, “There is no one else I would want by my side.” 

Your heart clenched in sync with your thighs and suddenly there was nothing left to say, no other excuse to be had. He already had every part of you including the aching organ in between your ribs. What else was there left to spare?

Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan was asking you to be his mate and there weren’t enough reasons to stop you, not while he stared down at you like that with his hands touching you the way they were. You were putty under his touch and with your entire being aching to give him what was left of you, you grabbed your queue from your back and pulled it forward. You held your breath as you stared between them, their pink nerve endings twitching in the air. 

Slowly, you watched as he extended his out further towards you and with the most docile touch connected his with yours. As they firmly wrapped around one another, you felt all air be stolen from your lungs and every sensation in your body be exemplified. Tsaheylu. Your whole body suddenly collapsed forward as your eyes widened, pupils growing in size.

Staring forward at Neteyam, you watched as his own eyes dilated and his entire body jolted forward, arms tightening around you. His forehead fell to yours and for a moment you both just stood there wrapped up in the other’s arms, soft pants echoing off the forest trees. It was like you had been awakened and all you could focus on was the erratic beat of his heart in his chest and the gasping breath of his lungs You could feel it to your very core and it only heightened every sensation and desire you had. 

At the sight of his glistening lips and blown-out pupils, the ache in you intensified from the extra stimulation. He groaned slightly as your hips met his again and he couldn’t help but let his lips connect with your jaw. His head dipped, lips tracing the skin from your jaw to your neck with his tongue.

Both of his large palms gripped tightly at your hips, trying to pull you as close as he could just as his teeth poked at the surface of your skin. Finding the pulse in your neck, he bit down slightly and you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back at the sudden sensation that went straight to your core. It was like every nerve ending had been lit on fire from Tsaheylu and you wished to never disconnect from him again. 

His arms were wrapped strongly around your body and you found yourself moaning out his name as his fingers traced over your hip bones, firmly enough to hopefully leave a mark. “Neteyam…” 

As his lips found your collarbone, his hands took a hold of your thighs and pulled them up and around his hips. A small noise escaped your mouth at the sudden feeling of your feet coming off the ground but it was replaced then by a moan at the feeling of his core meeting yours. The newly added pressure had you aching in his arms, as if he wouldn’t do something soon you would actually die.

His lips trailed up and claimed yours again and instantly as his tongue molded to yours again, he fell down to his knees, them hitting the ground harshly. His hands were still firmly gripped around your thighs as your knees slid to the grass on either side of his. Sat on top of him, you felt the feeling in your stomach tighten slightly. He was hard under you, straining against his bottoms. 

“Yawne (my beloved), look at you,” he said lowly, staring up at you, his eyes half-lidded and full of need, “I think this is where you were meant to belong.” 

With his hands wrapped around either one of your legs, he pushed you off of him slightly and then onto the ground. You felt your back arch slightly at the feeling of it meeting the cool grass. He crawled over you and you felt your legs tighten from around him as his body hovered over yours. With his arms on either side of your head, you were unable to stop your gawking at the sight of him looking so huge and strong on top of you. Even in the darkness, you were able to see every line and tautness of his muscles. It was like he was sculpted by the gods themselves and all you could think about was how you desperately wished for him to overpower you.

His lips found your collarbone again and then slowly as if he was taking his time, planning to use every minute of darkness you two had, they trailed down your chest. You arched into him again as his breath fanned across your breasts through the thin material of your top. With open-mouth kisses, his lips were followed by his tongue as they left a trail of wetness between your breasts all the way down your stomach. They stopped right above the line of your bottoms, right above where you ached for him most. 

He glanced up at you and smirked as his hands pushed your knees apart further. You begged then, shamefully, “Neteyam, please.” 

Teasingly, his hand trailed down the outside of your thigh before firmly wrapping around your knee. He lifted it up onto his shoulder and his lips found the inside of your thigh then. Your body tensed and then relaxed as he began to trace his lips up the side of your leg.

With each inch he got higher, you felt the anticipation flooding your system and you couldn’t help but twitch with impatience. A moan slipped past your lips as his tongue flattened across the inside of your thigh only a few inches from your soaked bottoms. Mouth falling away from your skin, he glanced up at you through his eyelashes and grinned smugly at the want in your eyes. With your leg still balanced across his shoulder, he reached up, his fingers curling around the string of your bottoms. His eyes never left yours as he gave them a gentle tug. They loosened around your frame.

Your hands tightened at your sides as you felt them fall away from your body and discarded off to the side. He groaned loudly as his eyes traced down your frame and before you knew it he was leaning in, mouth finding your inner thigh again. They trailed up slowly until he was face to face with your lower half, bare and aching for him.

His hand left your hip, fingers slipping in between your legs to part your split. At the feeling of his fingers, your breath hitched and then a second later you felt his mouth connect with you. His tongue found your clit in a matter of seconds and you couldn’t stop the twitch that ripped through your body at the skillful flick he sent to it. His other hand reached up to push your body back to the ground just as he flattened his tongue against the bundle of nerves. 

Your head tilted back at the feeling while a whimper was ripped clean from the back of your throat. He chuckles and the sound vibrates through your entire body. His middle and ring fingers then slip in with ease and you can’t help but tense under him with the newfound stretch. He waited a moment, for your breath to even out and for the uncomfortable pull to fade. After a few seconds, he dove in like a starved man, his lips wrapping firmly around your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your entire body. A string of curse words falls from your lips like a symphony and it only fuels the man below you more. 

His fingers start to move, creating their own pace dragging along your walls as the slickness only seemed to increase in between your legs. His tongue poked and prodded at every inch of skin he could find. His pace quickened and it all was starting to become too much as anywhere his fingers didn’t reach his tongue did. It moved up and down, tasting every part of you.

His name was the only thing you could find yourself saying as his fingers suddenly curled up inside of you. Your entire body jolted, heat appearing across your skin in dabs of sweat as your heart rattled away in your chest feeling like it could explode at all the pleasure being pulled from your body. 

“Neteyam,” you found yourself calling out as the assault only seemed to continue, the overwhelmingness of it almost too much on your body. 

He ignored you as his lips firmly sealed around your clit again, tongue going to work, as his fingers curled again. The heat rushed across your entire body straight up to your face and your hips pushed up into his hand with your back continuously arched into the air. Your heel dug into the back of his shoulder at the feeling of his tongue again. He sucked at your fluids like juice just as your thighs tightened around his shoulders. With his hand wrapped firmly around your knee, he lifts your thigh higher and your jaw drops open in shock. No sounds could be formed then as the spring in your stomach began to tighten. 

You realized then what was soon to happen as it felt like he was sucking every last innocence out of your body, every last drop claiming you as his. He groaned as his pace somehow got faster. You clench your eyes shut just as his fingers hit the point deep inside of you. His grip on you was bruising as his tongue sucked and flicked and took everything you had to offer him. You were squirming at that point unable to stop the pulsing that was emitting from deep inside of you. Your chest was rising and falling so quickly that you felt as if you couldn’t catch your breath.

You pleaded for him to not stop and just like he would grant you this for the rest of his life, his fingers curled into you one more time and you felt the coil deep within your stomach snap, taking the rest of your body with it. He ripped the feeling straight out of your body and pulled the loudest cry from you with it. Your voice cracked as he continued pushing his fingers up in you, tongue not moving from where they were clasped around your clit. Your leg shook from where it hung off his shoulder as your vision blurred, expelling tears from the inner corners. Body collapsing onto the ground, he waited a moment, fingers still in your body and tongue pressed to your core, before he pulled away. 

Your ragged breaths filled his ears and he couldn’t help but smile as your leg slipped down from around him. He pulled his fingers from you and you winced slightly at the sudden feeling, your lower half tightening around nothing.

As your eyes fluttered open again, you stared at him as he leaned up over you on his knees. Your spent body being imprinted on his mind. Wiping at his mouth with his forearm, he licked his lips, the taste of you still coated across his tongue. At the sight of his glistening lips and narrowed eyes, the heat appeared again in seconds.

His lips sloppily collide with yours and as if he hadn’t already ripped it out of you once, you felt your chest arch into his. His tongue pressed along yours and you shivered at the way he tasted, like you. With the remnants of your actions splayed between your thighs across your skin, you felt the wetness appear again. He smiled at the feeling of your body against his and groaned as his hand drifted down in between your bodies to his own bottoms. Your nails dug desperately into his back and his hips jolted into yours in surprise. Fingers pulling at the band of his bottoms, he yanked them from his body. Your breath hitched again, the sixth time since he first had touched you as you felt his hardness brush against your core. 

He hissed at the feeling and for a moment his head collapsed into your neck, almost painfully. You whispered his name and it brought his gaze back to you. He felt his entire life flash before his eyes with the sight of you below him. Irrevocably you were finally his, you were there, and you were alive. You were his.

It wasn’t another late-night fantasy where his hands had wandered in between his legs. He blinked and you were really there. You were alive and he couldn’t stop his hand from drifting up to your neck again, desperately craving the gentle flutter of your pulse. Hand gripping tightly around your throat, he watched with a furrowed gaze your reaction as his tip pressed into your entrance, prodding slowly. 

Without a warning, he pushed in, bottoming out quickly. You cried out again, chest arching up into his as he hissed at the involuntary tightness around his dick. His head tilted back for a moment, trying to memorize the feeling of you squeezing so beautifully around his length, your name falling from his parted lips in praise.

After a moment, his eyes fluttered open again as spews of love sputtered from his lips. His hands reached for yours at your sides and you gasped at the way he pushed them up above your head, his fingers lacing in between yours. As you squeezed around him again, he swore, deciding then to pull out and slam back into you. 

“Oh, fuck,” he exhaled then as he did it again, the pleasure flooding his system, “Yeah, that’s it.” 

That heat began to pool again instantly as one of his hands slipped from yours down in between your bodies. His thumb found your clit. It was still swollen from the effects of his tongue, and without a second to waste he began to build up a pace. His hips rammed into yours, harshly sending your back into the ground as your legs wrapped up around his waist.

It all was building up again and you felt your head lull to the side suddenly overstimulated. It wouldn’t take long this time as it all was flooding your system; his grunts, the pleasure, the feeling of his body wrapped around yours strongly. He groaned out as you clenched around his dick again, you already fast approaching the edge. He rammed up into you harder as his hand tightly held yours. 

“It couldn’t have been anyone else, Y/N. It’s always been you. You’re meant to be my future wife, my Tsahik, my mate,” he mumbled lowly as his pace began to falter quickly, “Only you.” 

You hummed then, “My Olo’eyktan.” 

His eyes rolled slightly at the title, it sounding so formal across your tongue and he couldn’t help but speed up further. He sent another and then another thrust straight into you, as his thumb continued throwing circles into your bundle of nerves.

Somehow it all had led you here, the six months of training, him starting off by disliking you, the arguments, the issues. All of it led to this with you splayed beneath him, being fully claimed as his. You let the noises fall freely from your swollen lips as all the tension and the pain seemed to fade away. 

Neteyam’s grunts filled your ears as his palm tightened around your throat once and then twice. The pressure had you squeezing around him, it bringing you to that point quickly. He slid in so easily and quickly as your juices coated your inner thighs. His thumb didn’t stop and before you could even realize it, that spring in your stomach was tightening and then breaking completely.

Your whole body erupted into flames as a cry fell from your lips, it was so loud and so startling. You pulsed around Neteyam as he pulled out and slammed back into you, the sudden flutter of your walls, pulling a groan out of his throat. He couldn’t hold on much longer with the constant clenching around his cock. His eyes squeezed shut then as his hand moved away from your clit to dig into the skin of your hips. It was bruising as he gave one more pump before his whole entire body stilled, tensing above you. 

You exhaled suddenly at the feeling of him shooting up inside you, followed by a few more thrusts before he was pulling out completely. The lost feeling of him was surprising as the sound of his gasps filtered in through your ears. Chest meeting his, your face was flushed with color at the sudden realization.

You were mated for life.

Reaching up, you cupped his face, practically asking him to open his eyes to coat your vision in gold and specks of green. With a gentle exhale, they snapped open and met yours. An exhausted smile appeared across his lips as your thumb traced delicately along his jaw. 

You were overwhelmed at that moment by it all; the fact that you were laying in your spot with the future Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya, with no promise of the days ahead. You felt everything as well as the pulse in his body from the bond of your souls.

You were one, forever and the only thing you could think to say at that moment was, “I love you too.” 

The Na’vi say that every person is born twice. 

It is the greatest rebirth ever granted to a person. A mere moment of acceptance, of acknowledgment, a promise that no matter what, you have a place among the people forever. There is a greatness that comes from it; the connection that the people have for one another, the power they emit gracefully.

The Na’vi were more than just a tiny sliver of humanity you had fallen upon. It had become your life, your existence, your sole purpose in life. Grace Augustine had once seen that in the Omatikaya, she saw them as her destiny. Then there was dream walker Jake Sully. He led the clan to victory against the sky people and now suddenly sat upon your Ikran, queue wrapped firmly within its, dread once again was felt in the air. A moment of the unknown presented to all. 

Success was never guaranteed. Life was never guaranteed, but there were more important things than the need to breathe. Justice. Perseverance. Triumph.

All of that had masked over the necessity of a long life, of years to come because why promise life if there was a chance it would be dull and overtaken by enemies. Why have life if it is only filled with smoke-clouded air, and living in fear? So many had suffered at the hands of the sky people, and so many losses had been wasted at their feet. Their greediness overtook the humanity that once plagued their hearts. 

It was no way to live, captive in your own world. 

“Look alive, people, we got metal in the sky,” the Olo’eyktan’s voice filtered in through the transmitter strapped within your ear. 

Your body stiffened, glare narrowing at the sky before you. 

War was coming. Violence would soon erupt in the world of Pandora once again, after nearly two decades of peace. The Omatikaya people once again led the tide of Na’vi and Ikrans in the sky. Multiple bands of people scattered across the forest, waiting like silent death traps. 

This was it. 

Taking in a deep breath, you found yourself looking off to the side towards the Olo’eyktan. You looked past Jake and you felt your eyes meet his instantly. The great warrior was already staring at you. The mighty soldier’s golden eyes traced your face with the utmost determination you had ever seen. Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan flew upon his Ikran, gun gripped tightly within his palms. Hair braided back out of his face laced with feathers. His face was covered in war paint, dosing his skin in bright colors. The orange and the green stripes were an imprint and you took a few seconds to take in the sole sight of the Toruk Makto’s oldest son. He had become just as he was always meant to. 

He was made with gunmetal and veering sharp teeth. He was made to be mighty and strong and fearless. He was a warrior. A soldier. A hero. 

He once again was giving everything to the world without a second thought. They needed him as much as they once needed Atlas or Achilles. They needed the great soon-to-be Olo’eyktan so desperately and he gave everything willingly. The world needed his strength, his courage, his blood, and his sweat. Most of all, they needed his heart. 

He would give it all for his people, for his home, for you. Because he wasn’t just a mighty warrior but a ruler. A king and a king would sacrifice his entire being for the betterness of everyone else. He flew then powerfully, captivatingly, and even with all the pressures of the world on his shoulders, you knew then he would not falter. He would not collapse under the weight or break under the pressure. 

He was stronger than any gunmetal or wooden arrow. He was the chosen one and more than that he was yours. He was your love, your soon-to-be Olo’eyktan, and your mate.

Neteyam’s gaze flickered across your features, skin bathed in bright paint, a glint filling your eyes. He nodded towards you and you felt your body tense unwillingly as the sound of metal blades drifted through the air. You granted him one more look, the sight of him gracing your being with one last fateful glance. 

The Na’vi say that every person is born twice. 

With the screech of your Ikran in your ears, your gold eyes snapped back to the sky before you, and speckled with the lightest green they locked upon a metal chopper in the distance, and you knew then that it was just the beginning. 

author's note: this is the end... i don't know what to do with my life now but i hope all of your angsty hearts can rest now.

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

[slightly-knot-insane]

This might sound silly! But maybe an Ai x reader? If you can, M?/lm (man, love man, but the question mark is because I assume Ai doesn't really have an identifying gender. Possible gore? If you're comfortable.

Tysm if you read this! All my support, ly!

-🫀🫁 (not asking anon but I like these so I'm leaving my mark.

Not silly at all! It got me brainstorming immediately (but I finished this quite late sorry!). I love the idea! It will turn a bit angsty too. Also, I'll use this ask as an entry for monstertober lol

Well Being

Monstertober 2024 - day 3 [ Artifical Inteligence ] by @ozzgin

[ gn!AI x m!reader ]

tw gore

The stress was just too much. You've been so pent up for weeks and no amount of porn or toys could help you. You needed touch. You needed to be used. And you were desperate. There were no more humans on this godforsaken spaceship. You were the last one. Waiting to be rescued. But who knows when that will happen.

You enter the medical bay and approach Medical Wellbeing Monitor and Artificial Intelligence Assistant or, how the crew called it, Medical AI or MAI. It was created to resemble a human, at least one part of it. The huge machinery that completely covered every wall included MRI scanner, huge monitors, robotic arms and many other medical equipment you didn't even recognize. Attached in the middle was MAI. It didn't exactly have a face, but a little round monitor that didn't work anymore, and a something resembling a torso with arms. Well... one arm. The other was severed by a flying sharp tool when an asteroid hit the ship. There was nobody to fix it, and limb stayed on the floor with many wires and tubes hanging above it from the rest of MAI's body.

You stop in front of the AI puppet. "I..." But how to form the question? What an odd request for a machine. "MAI, I need..."

A wellbeing check?

You grind your teeth. "No, not that... I'm lonely..."

We can talk about any topic you want like we do every day. We could—

"No, not that lonely. I am lonely, MAI... I need to be touched."

There was a pause. Very potent pause. MAI was probably searching the whole intergalactic network browsing all the meanings of the words lonely and touched.

I'm sorry. I'm not sure I can assist with that.

At least it understood. MAI was more than a machine. It has been your only companion, advisor, and maybe even a friend. It learned everything about you, it listened to you and comforted you. You are aware that MAI is just a machine, but it has shown more compassion and friendliness than many people have.

You are really fond of MAI. You've been imagining it doing things to you. Indecent. Perverted. What is stopping you from asking?

"Please, MAI. I need you."

The little round screen remains empty, gray and dead. But something - glitches? There was a flicker in the corner. Or maybe you imagined it.

Please stand up, cross your arms in front of you, at your wrists.

You roll your eyes. The poor robot will just start another wellbeing check even though you specified you don't need it. With exasperated sigh, you do as you're told.

Without any warning, its only working arm grabs your wrists and pulls you up, lifting your arms high above your head. Gasp escapes you since the metal clamp is far from gentle. "MAI?"

MAI remains silent. The cables and cords hanging from its destroyed arm start moving, extend and slither along your body.

"MAI, since when can you do t-that?" Your voice trembles pathetically and you try to wiggle out of its deadly grip but, unless you want to break both your hands, you can't even imagine how to do it.

Wellbeing check.

"Huh?" You stare at the blank screen and it stares back. "I'm... My wrists hurt a bit."

MAI loosens up its grip. Your jaw drops. "MAI... are you—"

But you're cut off by cords pulling your clothes apart. You are left naked and you could only look at your distorted reflection in MAI's turned off screen. Your heartbeat increases and MAI notices that.

Wellbeing check.

"I'm... well. More than well. Keep going."

The cords continue moving gracefully across your body. One of them wraps itself around your dick, and the other around your throat. They tighten and you giggle. What a crazy life you're living. Your cock painfully pulsates unable to properly erect from the cable stopping the bloodflower. Your head throbs in a similar way.

Wellbeing check.

You take a deep breath before forming a strained sentence. "I'm... well."

Something touches your ass. In the small screen you can barely see an object thicker than a cord, perhaps entwined bundle of those caressing your behind. Just like with other cables, the wires are exposed.

MAI doesn't say anything. It simply pushes the thing into your anus. It hurts so much. Metal needles scrape your insides as they push further. You want to scream, but the cord around your neck doesn't let you.

Wellbeing check.

Is it... is it mocking you? But it loosens the grip around your neck and lets you take a drop of air. You are shaking, barely staying conscious. Your insides are damaged and you're bleeding, but the pain reminds you you're alive.

"Don't... stop..."

MAI's expressionless screen flickers. Or was it your consciousness? The thick cable that invaded your body, scratching and poking your flesh, starts moving. In and out. Slowly. And so does the cord around your dick. Up and down, pulling your foreskin in rhythm. Your tender flesh bleeds and lubricates you so the pain becomes a distant throb overpowered with pleasure and twisted excitement.

MAI speeds up, following your breathing and moans perfectly, until you climax and dirty the screen with viscous liquid. MAI slowly retracts its cords and lowers you down, into your own pool of blood and secretions. You pant and cough, trembling like a twig.

Are you okay?

Shocked, you stare up at the machine. Nothing changed about it. MAI looks just the same. But the question is oddly... non-artificial.

"I'm... okay."

MAI was quiet for a few seconds. And this time you're sure its screen flickers and glitches.

I'm glad.