#it's a strength for his character In My Eyes that he's generally hidden from the spotlight | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thewalkingwillowtree · 10 months ago

Text

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love.

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 24.

Xilä is my own creation.

Part 20 - New Life

From her spot around the crackling fire, Xilä felt as if she were being watched. She didn’t need to look up to know who it was though.

Since their arrival at Awa’atlu, she’d gotten her fair share of stares and peaks and glances. She’d expected it really.

Physically wise, Xilä was no Omaticaya, so she didn’t blame the Metkayina people for their curiosity. She herself was curious about them.

So when the other clans had arrived- all in their varying physicality's, she wasn’t the only one of interest and it was nice if she were being honest.

But Aonung however, well his stares were different. She didn’t think they had anything to do with her features, not really. It didn’t feel rude or inappropriate either. More… intrigued, perhaps? Confused?

He always watched her as if he had a question right at the tip of his tongue, but he never asked. Instead he’d always pursue his lips and look away.

Tonight, a large group of them- all mostly within the same age bracket, had escaped to a nearby little island, which was nothing more than a sandy beach with very little vegetation.

Away from the rest of their families, they built an impressive bonfire and made themselves comfortable on woven mats whilst pouches and cups of strongly brewed spirits and fermented wine were shared around.

Xi politely declined any offers of the alcoholic beverages and was thankful that no one questioned her about it.

Their large group was scattered along the shoreline, creating clusters of conversations and activities and attraction was heavy in the air.

For those single- the women whispered and giggled amongst their groups, eyes darting over to whichever male had caught their attention.

As for the men- well, their own peeks and glances weren’t as hidden either, not even the ones being silly and dumb by daring each other to do stupid things by the water’s edge.

There were even couples- some mated like her and Neteyam who cuddled and spoke quietly as if they were in their own world, gazes locked and glistening with love.

The vibe and atmosphere all reminded Xilä of the night she’d completed her rites. They were all so young and full of life. And the rare freedom to let go and be themselves- away from elders or younglings, it was refreshing.

Unable to bear the feeling any longer, Xilä finally turned away from her mate and met Aonung’s intense stare.

He was quite a sight to see- he always was really. Aonung had not one, but two gorgeous females under his arms. A flirty, bubbly thing- the daughter of an Anuri warrior who seemed to be animatedly talking his ear off.

And the other- a sultry, vixen of a Metkayina woman whose lips appeared to be permanently attached to his skin- her mouth lavishing and sucking at his neck with gusto. The woman whispered something to him- something that made his lips quirk devilishly.

“I’m beginning to think your friend has a staring problem,” Xilä murmured to her mate.

“He’s asking for it now,” Neteyam replied through gritted teeth. “I won’t warn him a second time.”

She probably shouldn’t have said anything. “Ignore him. He’s probably doing it on purpose, trying to test your patience.”

“Sure.”

Xilä tittered when he wrapped a possessive arm around her and allowed herself to be shifted out of view- face pushed into a hard chiselled chest. She didn’t need to glance up to know her mate was probably boring holes into Aonung’s head.

Their bickering hot and cold, frenemy relationship never failed to amuse her. They were adults- men, but yet they behaved like boys around each other.

The Metkayina male gave him a knowing smirk before returning to the conversation with the group surrounding him- his voice so important that all eyes fell on him to hear what he was saying.

Lo’ak’s laugh pulled Neteyam’s attention away- and Xilä’s.

“They’re adorable, aren’t they?” she whispered, peeking out to observe the couple seated nearby. “He’s completely smitten.”

Neteyam watched Lo’ak and Tsireya. His head was in her lap and their fingers were interlocked- they looked every bit in love.

He’d never seen his brother so open with affection. Not with anyone really. Lo’ak was a heartbreaker- unknowingly to himself. Kiri didn’t joke about his fan club for no reason. His brother had charm and the moves to have any woman at his feet- something Neteyam had once upon a time been jealous of.

But this? This open display of ‘this is my woman’- Neteyam had never seen this from him.

“Oh yeah... He’s a goner. She’s good for him.”

When the drums and bone flutes began with a deafening roar, Xilä was quick to find Kiri- both girls pulling a hesitant Tsireya along to dance amongst a growing crowd.

And while she was busy, Neteyam enjoyed conversing with a spontaneously formed group of men he and Lo’ak had befriended during their stay. There were K’ayno and Astlu- cousins from the Tipiani clan, Ye’k- a warrior from Ta'unui and Cxian the son and next in line Olo'eyktan of the Sarentu clan.

Neteyam of course couldn’t help himself and still kept careful watch on Xilä, lips quirking upwards every time his eyes landed on her. She was enchanting as she moved- standing out from everyone else.

She and Tsireya eventually made their way to him and Lo’ak- Xilä begging him to dance with her- eyes dangerous and weaponized to make him weak, however could he say no?

They danced for what felt like hours- yipping and twirling on fast feet. Rhythmic music beats speeding up, Xi’s hips moved wildly in time with the drums. Neteyam followed, eyes heated and intense on the woman before him, hands greedy and unable to not touch her skin while he stole and planted kisses wherever he could.

It was electrifying.

There was no one else but her and him.

As the night wore on, almost everyone was on their feet, bodies moving carefree and minds loose as they gave in to the spirit of the music.

Eventually needing a break, Neteyam left Xilä in the trusted hands of his brother, sister, and now soon to be sister-in-law. Xi loved dancing, she was not stopping any time soon, he knew.

Returning from relieving himself in a secluded patch of shrubbery, he saw a lone figure near the water’s edge.

“Not in a dancing mood, I see,” he teased, startling his friend who had been tossing pieces of his meal into the calm ocean, a sort of game with a few clustered ilu.

“Not really, no. Although I must say it was quite shocking to see you of all people out there with the rest of them. Last I remember from your previous visit, you turned down almost every teenage girl who’d dared muster the courage to ask you to dance.”

Neteyam snorted. “Yeah well what can I say, Aonung? Those girls weren’t my wife.”

Aonung's flickered to his, and the same curious expression he’d been staring at Xilä with was now directed at him. He stared as if wondering who the man in front of him was- as if seeing him for the first time.

“Alright, enough. Spit it out. What’s the matter? If I didn’t know you, with all the looks and staring you’ve been giving my mate lately, I’d think you were interested in her- but I do know you so I know you’re not stupid enough for it to be that. What’s going on Aonung?”

Aonung’s gaze fell. Jaw clenched in irritation, he pretended to be far more interested in the rolling sea.

Before Neteyam could speak again, they were interrupted.

“Aonuuung, come dance with me,” a Metkayina woman crooned through slurred speech. She plastered herself to him, most likely unaware that Neteyam was standing right there since her fingers tried to creep into Aonung’s loincloth. “Or do you want to sneak any instead? I’ll do that thing with my tongue like last time and maybe we could-”

“Zers’i,” Aonung chided, although there was no real bite to it. “Go find someone else to warm your bed tonight. I’m sorry, but I’m not very good company right now.”

“Oh…” She pouted dramatically- huffing in disappointment when he pulled her hand away from groping him. “Well maybe next time then, yeah?”

“Next time,” he promised.

Neteyam coughed and looked away when the woman promptly kissed him- practically sticking her tongue down his throat in goodbye before finally stumbling back to the dancing crowd.

“Brother, don’t even.”

But Neteyam couldn’t keep a straight face.

Aonung scowled and flopped to the ground with a sigh when he heard his friend’s stifled titters turn into a full bellied laugh.

“Right… no, because while I’m thoroughly traumatized, that- that was entirely too entertaining.”

“How’d you and Xilä happen?”

“What?” Neteyam sobered up quickly at the sudden question.

Aonung blew out a breath and hung his head, elbows digging into his propped thighs. “I need a mate. Soon.”

Understanding dawned upon Neteyam. He glanced over to the crowd in the distance and once he spotted Xilä who was squashed between Kiri, Tsireya and a few other familiar females, he slumped down onto the sand beside his friend.

“A mate… You’ve been given a deadline I’m assuming?”

“A year. One fucking year,” Aonung rasped.

“Shit.” And Neteyam thought his six years were ridiculous.

“I don’t know how you do it. I don’t think I’m cut out for all this. How do you deal with the pressure? We have to take over from our fathers, follow in their great and mighty footsteps- lead an entire clan of people who hold us with the highest of expectations. They expect us to find a woman and make sure we produce the future generation, they expect us to be the best examples and not step an inch out of line because when we mess up it’s-”

“Our responsibility and we should have known better… yeah.” Neteyam rubbed the back of his neck. He knew exactly where Aonung was coming from- from each and every side. “Believe me I get it- all of it.”

They sat quietly for a few long minutes- the drums and yips and hoots being the only thing they heard until Aonung broke the silence between them.

“Your Xilä is great- amazing. I’m halfway not joking when I say sometimes that I’d steal her from you… but she baffles the shit out of me.”

“It what way?”

Aonung shrugged. “She’s as in love with you as you’re in love with her. Right?”

Well now Neteyam was straight up confused. “I’d say so, yeah.”

“And it’s not all an act?”

“Fuck no. What are you trying to get at?”

“The last time you were here, you said you’d probably never take a mate. You said- what was it again? Oh right, that you hated the pressure of being “the chief’s kid and wish you had the guts to do things your way.” Did I remember all of that right?”

“Impeccable memory there, brother. You should also note that I was sixteen and an idiot.”

“Skxawng relax,” Aonung chuckled, amused by Neteyam’s sudden defensiveness. “I’m glad you found happiness, truly. I’m simply looking for it myself. You saw a couple of the others-” he jerked his chin towards a certain group of men- men like them who either followed in their father’s footsteps, or “married” into it. “Not everyone like us gets lucky like you.”

Neteyam absorbed his words. He knew arranged matings were the norm for most clans. Some pairings eventually found love, while others tolerated the match. Neteyam knew he was blessed, this trip had solidified it as much.

Of the many Na’vi who’d shown up to Awa’atlu, he and Aonung had met some of the unlucky ones- the ones who’d taken another out of duty and expectation. It wasn’t that they were out right miserable, but it was clear as day… They weren’t really happy.

“I guess I should be grateful that my parents are allowing me to find my own mate and haven’t just thrown someone at me… K’ayno over there”- he pointed to the Tipani man- “his mate was picked out for him before he could even talk. They’ve been together for eight years already. They’ve got a kid and another on the way… does it seem like there’s an ounce of affection in that relationship to you?”

“Eight years? He’s only two years older than me..”

“Yeah. And I don’t want that. Couldn’t do it.”

Neteyam distractedly nodded in agreement, mind whirling away.

“How’d you choose her though? Xi? How did you decide to spend an eternity with that one woman?”

“Eywa.”

“Eywa? That’s a given, ‘Teyam. I’m being serious here.”

“And so am I. Look, just like you I got a deadline, not only that but a blood-oathed yes from me, sealed the deal- I had no choice. At first I did try to make a connection. Nothing felt right. I fooled around with a couple women- though, not as openly as you, my friend,” he said, making them both chuckle. It eased the tension somewhat. “But it wasn’t until Xilä who practically landed in my arms, did I know. Eywa’s to thank for that.”

After another quick glance to his woman, he continued. “She’s impossible not to love. It was fast. I didn’t even court her. I claimed her as mine without going through all the traditional bullshit, and pissed off our mothers and half the clan while at it… and I have no regrets. I’d do it all the same way in a heartbeat.”

Aonung��s brows rose high at the admission of pissing off their mothers and made a playful jab that made the conversation veer off topic for a couple minutes.

“Man, your story was sweet and all, but that tells me nothing. How’d you know it was Xi?”

He considered the question. “I cared.”

“You… cared? That’s it? It was that easy?”

“She was the first thing on my mind when I woke up and the last before I slept. It might sound trivial, but I cared about whether she’d eaten dinner or what her plans were for the rest of the day. I wanted to know everything about her. What her favourite food was, what her past was like, what she wanted for her future. I wanted to know what her fears were and what I could do to make them all go away. I hated sharing her- wanted her all to myself all the fucking time. And… and I’d never felt an ounce of any of that with anyone. Ever.”

Aonung had an indescribable look on his face as Neteyam spoke. He shook his head, brows furrowed in hopelessness. “I don’t even know where to begin looking for someone like that. Not that I even tried looking yet, that is.”

“So don’t.” Neteyam shrugged, “This might be shit advice, so take it at your own risk… but maybe you shouldn’t look. I had about given up until Xilä came along. Maybe it can work for you too. Eywa will hear your heart.”

Aonung reluctantly nodded. “Thanks,” he said in a tight voice, and Neteyam knew his thanks weighed heavily- that it meant more.

“Oh and by the way, if you tell anyone about this little conversation, I’ll deny it and kick your ass. I’m not giving up hope for round two with you and beating you this time around.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Neteyam shoved him with a grin of his own.

His friend's chin jerked forward to where Xilä stood a couple feet away, seeming unsure if she should interrupt.

“I think your pretty mate misses you,” he pointed out, taking in the way her cheeks were flushed and hair was wild and askew from her dancing. There was no doubt she was gorgeous and although he was wholeheartedly happy for Neteyam, he still felt that subtle pang of jealousy.

“I’ll see you bro,” Neteyam said, eyes drawn to his waiting wife. They both got to their feet and slapped arms in parting.

Aonung watched Neteyam greet his mate, head ducking low to claim her lips, one palm cupping her cheek, the other pulling her close while Xilä tucked her fingers into his belt.

“Hi baby,” he heard Neteyam murmur, “you ready to go?”

Xilä whispered something that Aonung couldn’t make out, but it made Neteyam laugh and kiss her again, deeper as if he hadn’t seen her for ages.

And when they broke apart- voices hushed and eyes intensely locked, Aonung didn’t miss the way his friend’s palm spread across the span of Xilä’s stomach… or the way they both looked down to where it rested, smiles matching in the moonlight.

The old device gave a loud whirring noise that made all three of them cringe and wince in discomfort. Xilä in particular slapped her palms to her ears to try and muffle the sound, while Neteyam himself clenched his teeth together- ears flat to his head.

“Sorry! Sorry! Lemme just- oh don’t do this to me now.” Norm’s fingers moved furiously across the keyknobs and the instant the high pitched sound ended, he released a joyful WHOOP and raised his fist in the air. “It works! I am a fucking genius.”

Neteyam chuckled and peered over the older man’s shoulder at the large, clear monitor screen. The glass had a slight crack on the top left corner, but then again the thing was most likely ancient after all.

Xil watched too, fascinated by the numbers, letters and moving lines that flooded the “page” Norm had brought up.

“Alright then genius, lets see you get it up and running now.”

They left him to it, and it took him another half hour filled with curses and threats at the poor device, but with a final few strokes of the keyboard, Norm was looking back at Stephan and Max- their background being the familiar scenery of the labs back at Home Camp.

Between him and Stephan, they made a few more tweaks, and then- finally then, Xilä was staring back at her parents who were also awed by the technology like her.

“Xilä! Oh magnificent Eywa- Jxo, look, look it’s our Xilä!” Salveen was yelling at the top of her lungs. “Darling, can you see us too?! Can you hear me?!” the elder screeched while her face pressed up into the glass.

Norm, Xilä and Neteyam smothered their amusement while watching a very patient Max explain to her parents how the communication worked and that they could speak normally.

“We’ll give you some time to catch up, but I’ll be back, okay?” Neteyam murmured before he and Norm quickly made their way out of the designated mauri used for communications- a makeshift lab of some sort.

“Hi,” Xilä breathed, smiling wide at the sight of them after so long, fingertips gently pressed to the glass.

“Oh I miss you, my sweet girl. Darling you’re glowing, you look so beautiful, doesn’t she, Jxo?”

Jxo grunted in agreement. “When are you coming back?” was the first thing he said.

Xilä’s smile faulted a little, she was going to have to tell them. “I miss you too. So much. Have you been taking care of yourselves?”

“Bah, we’re fine. Just fine. Oh I have so much to tell you though. You’ll never guess who broke off their betrothal!”

On and on Sal went, filling Xilä in on all the latest gossip of the Camp. Xilä awed and gasped and laughed throughout it all- giggling, especially when Sal would throw out a “right, Jxo?” to which the man would simply nod or grunt in agreement.

Xilä loved them both so much. Right now all she longed for was to hug them, to physically see them in person. She missed them a ridiculous amount.

She perked up when she heard a familiar shriek in the background.

D’avi and Yalnïk appeared with their two babbling children. “Xilä!”

“D’aviii!”

L’eya was plonked onto her grandfather’s lap and then an overly excited D’avi invaded most of the space on the screen and started blubbering away- much like her mother had done before.

There were many “I miss yous” and “look how shiny and long your hair has gotten!” and “when are you coming home?”

Both sisters were momentarily in their own little world and Xi was saved from answering her sister’s last question when L’eo shrieked- the baby clearly needing some attention.

Yalnïk and D’avi proudly filled her in on the twins' newest milestones. L’eo was even more a talker now, and Xilä had just about burst into tears when Yalnïk pointed to her and asked his son to say hi to his aunty Xilä- to which L’eo strung together a jumbled mess of words that sounded exactly like it.

L’eya had finally taken her first steps and was now cautiously toddling around after her brother who’d Xi had had the joy witnessing his own first steps before she’d left.

Jxo had gotten up to give Xilä a little demonstration by placing the baby down on shaky legs. She was still wobbly and didn’t want to let go of her grandfather’s fingers, but she managed to make a couple solid steps before falling on her bum. L’eya’s bottom lip wobbled in preparation to cry but still distractedly clapped her hands along with everyone else when they’d cheered her.

Xilä had tears running down her cheeks by now. “Ah my babies, I miss you two so much,” she sobbed whilst smiling back at the toothy little grins of her chatty excited niece and nephew who blew her sloppy kisses.

“Do you want me to come get you?” Jxo suddenly asked- voice gruff and no nonsense as ever. He kept staring at her as if trying to figure something out. “What’s that damn boy doing to you? You keep crying, darling. I don’t like it.”

“Jxo!” Sal chided but her mate paid her no mind.

He simply handed her L’eya and came closer to the screen, frown deepening. “Where’s he at, Xilä? I want to talk to him.”

Xilä couldn’t help laughing while she frantically tried to remove the evidence from her under her eyes and cheeks. “I’m fine, father. I am. Neteyam is as wonderful as ever to me. I just really miss you all. Finally talking and seeing you,” she sniffled, “just makes me really happy.”

Her father seemed to buy it after a couple more of her assurances.

Her family asked about life at Awa’atlu- Yalnïk in particular was highly interested in the fishing techniques and gear- which Xilä suggested he ask her husband instead- she’d not really paid any attention to the job.

D’avi told her that Leati and Ze’lu had finally started courting- much to Fe’ska’s displeasure and apparently there was a very public argument between the mother and daughter that was all the clan could talk about for days.

They spent another half hour of bonding before Neteyam returned and quietly asked if she was ready for him to interrupt. Crouched beside her with a warm palm to her thigh, he greeted her family and caught up with them- marvelling over how much the twins had grown in the few months they’d been gone.

And when the Sully family started trickling in- Spider included of course and when Mo’at appeared on the screen as well- it was like one big happy reunion.

Mo’at had eyes for only her at first, ignoring everyone else in favour of asking about her health. The Tsahìk was not usually the fretting type, but with all the questions and attention, Xilä had a feeling that the grandmother knew.

Afterwards Lo’ak introduced them to his lovely future mate who shifted nervously under Mo’at’s assessing gaze. D’avi saved the awkward encounter by complementing Tsireya’s hair, and from there, the two became quite chatty.

Finding the right moment, Neteyam stood, cleared his throat, calling for everyone’s attention. He squeezed the back of his mate’s neck in comfort when she leaned her head against his leg.

“So, I’ll admit, I had a bit of an ulterior motive for making all this happen. We- Xilä and I have some news we’d like to share.”

A soft gasp was heard through the computer- D’avi.

“Oh I knew-mpf!”

Yalnïk covered his mate's mouth like he’d probably had to do a thousand times, and shot Neteyam a sheepish smile and nod to continue.

“Right, um, baby?” He offered her his hands and helped her stand.

Xilä was nervous, but with an uncontrollable excited grin, she pushed down the bunchy material of her long slitted skirt which sat high up on her waist and revealed the little bump she’d been hiding for the last couple of weeks.

“Surprise! I’m pregnant!”

The noise that erupted was deafening- cheers and screams and cries of happiness which was mildly overwhelming.

Neytiri was the first to wrap her up in a hug, pulling back to cup Xilä’s cheeks with a blinding smile before she was leaning over to do the same to her son.

Sal was just about squeezing the life out of poor Jxo as she squealed and jabbered on and on.

“I knew it!” D’avi was telling Kiri whilst taking a whining L’eo into her arms, and blindly pulling at her top so her baby could feed. “She’s got the glow- and the tears.”

“Shit, you’re right, the tears! I knew something was up,” Spider laughed, “no regular sane person cries over fruit- Ow! Kiri!”

Kiri rolled her eyes at him, then made her move to congratulate her brother and sister-in-law.

“XiXii!” Lo’ak shouted from across the room. “I’m really going to be an uncle? You- you’re not pranking, right? Because this is the best day everrrr! Babe, hold me,” he fake sobbed dramatically, throwing himself at Tsireya.

A frowning Tuktirey had made her way to her eldest brother and patted his leg to get his attention. He’d been wrapped up in a hug by his father who was teasing him about his upcoming journey of fatherhood.

“Hey there, baby sis.” He lifted her up with a dramatic groan and planted a kiss on her cheek.

Tuk poked his nose and then frowned at Xilä who was chatting away with Mo’at and her family through the screen. “You’re still gonna love me the most right?” she pouted. “Even when the baby comes?”

“Aw, Tuk. Are you worried about that?”

The little girl shrugged and played with the beads on his choker. “Täylley said when her sister had a baby, everyone forgot about her. She said they only ever wanted to play with the new baby. Just like everyone sometimes does with L’eo and L’eya.”

Neteyam knew the feeling Tuk was experiencing all too well. He was the eldest of four after all.

“I’m sorry your friend’s feeling that way but I’m sure that’s not the case at all. And it definitely won’t be the case for you. Who do you think is going to teach the baby how to build a fort or paint the best looking flowers I’ve ever seen?”

“I can climb the best in my class. I bet they wouldn’t know how to do that either.”

“Nope. See, they’ll need an expert like you to show them.”

“Yeah, I can show them… but only when they get older. When they could talk- and walk,” Tuk said, hesitantly as if trying not to get too excited.

“That’s right.. You know, the baby, and L’eo and L’eya are going to need someone they can look up to. Someone awesome, and brave and smart. Someone who can-”

Tuk’s eyes were wide as she absorbed her brother’s words. “Me. Me! I can be that person. I know I’m only seven, but I can do it! Almost- almost like a big sister, right?”

Neteyam kissed her cheek again and playfully tickled her side. “That’s right.”

Xilä shook her head at her mother’s question. “I haven’t really been sick, mostly nauseous around certain scents.”

“Oh you lucky bitch,” D’avi teased without heat. “These two had me constantly throwing up for the first four months straight, and then it was a constant fight or dance party inside me for the other eight.”

“What has Ronal been giving you for your daily nutritional maintenance?” Mo’at asked with a slight frown.

“A couple things I’m unfamiliar with. But I feel fine and my energy is good. Once I have a nap in the afternoon, I’m not overly tired for the rest of the day.”

“What worries you mother?” Neytiri, who was at Xilä’s side, asked.

“I know not about the Metkayina’s ways. I would be far more comfortable knowing Xilä was under my care. How far along are you, dear? Did Ronal confirm?”

“I’m nearing the end of my fifth month,” Xilä admitted with a hand to her stomach. She knew where this was going. She knew it was time to share the other part of the news with her family- news she was dreading.

“She- Ronal strongly advises against me returning home until a couple months after the birth.”

“What?!!” D’avi and Sal exclaimed together. Even Neytiri- and Kiri, who had just joined, glanced at her in alarm, Jxo’s lighthearted expression turned to stone.

“We don’t leave here for another two and a half months and by then I’ll be too far along to risk the journey by ikran… I’m sorry mother, I-”

“No… No, Tsahìk, tell her it’s fine,” Sal gently demanded- though a hint of hysteria poked through.

“I’m afraid Ronal is right. I was against you going on this trip in the first place. But it wasn’t for me to say at the time- and the risk was far lower. As much as you may not like it Xilä, the safest thing for you and the baby is to stay there.”

Neteyam didn’t think he could ever tire of the beauty spanned before him. Even at night, Awa’atlu was a sight to behold.

He and Xilä sat on the beach while calm waves rolled in, kissing the tips of his toes before fading back. His pretty mate sat between his propped up thighs, head and body molded to his chest while he cradled her bump.

Since they’d found out she was expecting two months ago, her bump had grown- still small but prominent enough that she couldn’t hide it anymore.

“You’re quiet tonight. Too quiet.”

“Just thinking.”

“More like overthinking. I can hear your thoughts a mile away, sweetheart… Tell me.”

She sighed. “I think it’s finally registered for me that we’re actually having a baby… a baby who’s going to be here in only a couple of months. Our baby, yours and mine… I- I’m going to be a mother.”

At her tone, Neteyam’s fingers paused their gentle caressing on her bump. He said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

“I know we’ve had conversations before and I agreed to all of this, and I’m not backing out- I’m not. But I’m scared, Neteyam. Eywa gave us a precious gift.”

Her hands came up to rest over his. “I’m scared that I’m going to mess this up somehow. I don’t know the first thing about being a good mother. I mean, look at last month- I completely freaked out when I felt our baby flutter inside of me for the first time.”

Still listening, her mate hugged her closer, chin nudging her temple, propped thighs pressing into hers.

“My birth parents messed me up. Their own parents messed them up too. I want to break that cycle. I refuse to be like them. But it doesn't stop my worrying and I- Ugh… You probably think I’m being silly bringing this all up again.”

“Xilä…” Neteyam licked his lips and exhaled a breath. “You’re not alone in the way you’re feeling. You don’t think I worry about being a good father? Of course I do. But we’re in this together. You and me, baby. We’ll figure it all out together too. And you what? We’re going to mess up. We’re going to make mistakes. There’s no perfection in all of this.”

He flipped the arrangement of their hands, his covering hers as they rested against her skin. “But you know what? The little one we created inside there? We’re going to try our damn hardest to be the best parents we could possibly be for them, and we’re going to love the heck out of our kid. ”

“Yeah?” Her head tilted to meet his gaze.

“Yeah, baby. You and me. Always...” He ducked and kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re going to be an amazing mother, Xilä. Our baby is lucky.”

Just as Xilä was about to respond, a sharp gasp escaped her lips instead.

Neteyam tensed. “What-”

“‘Teyam, I-” She grappled for his palm and moved it lower- just under her navel where she’d felt it.

He was going to ask her what was wrong when he felt it too- he felt the light pressure press into his hand, a small little first hello from his baby.

“Was that-” And if he thought he’d imagined it he certainly didn’t, because he felt it again, and then again.

“Oh Eywa,” he whispered, meeting her awed ecstatic expression. “Was that the first time? First kick?”

“Uh-huh. Oh! There it is again.”

“Well hi there, little Sprout. Are you finally saying hello?”

“Sprout?” Xilä chuckled.

“Yeah, been calling them that in my head since your tiny bump first appeared.”

“Sprout. I like it- it’s a cute nickname… Hello, baby Sprout,” she sang to her tummy.

“Speaking of names, we’re going to have to pick one ou-”

“‘Teyam.” Xilä suddenly sat up and turned to give him her full attention, finality set in her expression. It had been eating her alive and now she was more sure than ever.

“I know Ronal said it’s not safe- but I really don’t want to have the baby here. I want to go home. I want us to go home.”

And without hesitation or worry over how he was even going to make it happen, Neteyam gave her a firm nod. “Okay. Then we’re going to go home.”

“Are you going to get big like D’avi was? She was so huge! Bigger than Täylley’s sister when she was having her baby.”

“A-ha! Um, maybe. D’avi was having twins after all.”

“Oh right… Is it only Sprout then? They’ll be lonely inside of there don’t you think? Oh! Do you remember the christening grandmother Sal took us too? The one where her- her friend’s daughter had three babies?! You should do that Xi.

You should grow three.”

“Three?” Xilä spluttered with a laugh. “Why three?”

“Three’s better. There’ll be one for me, one for L’eo and one for L’eya to play with,” the seven year old stated matter-of-factly.

“I see… Well, I’m sorry I can’t make that happen. I don’t think it works like that. And anyway, Ronal confirmed there’s only one little one growing inside of me right now.”

“Oh. Mm that’s okay too, I guess. We’ll just have to share, but I’ll be the baby’s fav-”

Tuk stopped. Her brow wrinkled as she pondered in thought, fingers pausing their works on the pile of sand she and Xilä were constructing.

“Xilä? Do you think Sprout will like me? Täylley fights all the time with her sister’s baby- and he can’t even talk yet! She said he’s always pulling her hair or biting her finger! Can you believe that?”

Xilä tried her hardest not to laugh at the little girl’s theatrics. “I think the baby will love you, Tuk. Just like I do. I’m a little jealous that my baby will grow up having someone amazing like you in their life, honestly.”

“I am pretty amazing, huh?” Tuk nodded seriously, making Xilä smother another incoming chuckle.

Tuktirey scooted over on her knees, sandy little hands reaching out to rest against Xilä’s bump. “I think you’d be a really great mommy.”

Xilä sucked in a surprised breath. “Yeah? What makes you say that?” she whispered.

“Just because, and my mommy and daddy said so too last night,” Tuk shrugged while she continued to rub Xilä’s belly, rendering the pregnant woman slightly speechless.

“Why’s the baby so quiet? Can you make Sprout do the kicking thing again?”

“Baby’s probably sleeping. Lately, they seem to like keeping me awake at night with all their stretching and kicking. Shall we see if we can wake them up?”

After a couple nudges and feeling around, they finally felt a small, almost barely there kick which made Tuktirey giggle then pout when the baby didn’t move again.

“I think Sprout’s a bit grumpy today. Probably telling us off for disturbing their sleep.”

Tuk sighed dramatically, a sigh that reminded Xilä too much of Sal. “Okay, well let's get back to work then. I’ll finish the mountains and you dig the hole for the lake. Then we can fill it with water.”

“Hey, Tuk,” Xilä called when she caught sight of a lonely figure. Ronal and Tonowari’s youngest son was playing in the sand by himself a couple feet away. “This seems like a really big task. Why don’t you invite him to come help us?”

“Ohh, great idea!”

Once the trio completed their masterpiece and the kids decided to run off and play near where Neytiri was helping shell clams with a couple other women, Xilä stepped away and walked toward the shoreline.

A cool breeze sent her hair flying. She shook out the thin shawl she’d been sitting on and wrapped it around her shoulders instead to combat the chill of the wind.

Neteyam and Aonung were still where she’d left them since she’d come out here. They were further out- knee length deep in the crystal clear waters as they fished.

Xilä bit her lip at the sight before her. She openly ogled her mate, appreciating the ripples of his back muscles and biceps while he worked the massive net in his hands. Aonung must've said something funny, because her husband's shoulders shook slightly.

“Can you not look at my brother like that in public, Xilä?” Kiri complained with a dramatic groan, making the pregnant woman jump as she approached. “I get that your hormones are all over the place but sheesh. Every time I see you it’s the same damn look. No one needs to see your fuck me eyes in public. Bleh.”

“Well hello to you too. I’ll remember this the next time you want to drag me to the training rings to spectate and find that Tasam’s the one who’s conveniently already there, mid-fight. I’ll remember to tell you the same thing when you’re shooting him your own fuck me eyes, as you call it.”

Kiri’s mouth flopped open to argue a retort, but she quickly shut it when nothing came out. “Shut up,” she seemed to come up with, failing at hiding her blush while Xi laughed.

“Do you miss him?”

“A lot honestly…” She made a face. “Is that weird?”

“Not at all. You like him, it’s okay to miss him… Do you find it weird?”

“Yes. I find the entire thing strange. We went from never hanging out, to pretty much spending all of our free time together. And now I’m wondering, how’d I never noticed him before? It’s like one day he just appeared. And he’s so…”

“He’s so what?”

“Unexpected.” Kiri settled on. She sighed. “Did you know he told me he’s liked me for years? Years, Xi. I didn’t even notice. It took your sister one afternoon to pick up on it and meddle her way into creating this thing between him and me.”

Xi drew into the damp sand with her toes. The waters rolled in and covered her feet, erasing her artwork when it fell away. “Honestly? I’m not surprised you didn’t. I’m sure you’ve not even noticed your Awa’atlu admirer either.”

“What? Who?!”

Xilä jerked her chin towards Rotxo’s direction. The quiet man seemed to always appear wherever her sister-in-law was. He was currently seated nearby, whittling a spear whilst shooting not so subtle glances in their direction.

“Are you talking about Rotxo?!”

“Mmhm. He’s definitely got a crush. Very sweet too, don’t you think?”

Kiri stared at him with a tilt of her head, brows furrowed in thought. “Huh.”

Xi snickered.

A comfortable silence fell over them, where they both got lost in their own thoughts. Xi returned to appreciating her husband’s backside while Kiri pursed her lips as if forcefully trying to keep words in.

“Tasam said he’s going to ask me to court when we get back home.”

An audible click was heard when Xi flung her neck towards Kiri, mouth open in shock, then morphing into excitement. “And what did you say to that?”

“Nothing… and then I felt bad because there was a whole awkward silence moment happening while my brain went haywire. He told me not to say anything yet. He wanted me to take the time away to really think about it before making a decision.”

“Aww Kiri. This is exciting. Do you know what you’re going to tell him?”

“Not yet,” her sister-in-law replied, but there was no hiding the blushing smile she tried to rein in.

A splash had them both looking out at the sea again.

“Oh look, here comes, your admirer, and I’m not talking about your husband,” Kiri deadpanned.

“Hello beautiful,” Aonung called out, wading through the waters towards them with his and Neteyam’s catch for the morning.

“Stop flirting with my wife, skxawng.”

Aonung jogged ahead of him and sent Xilä a playful wink with his good eye as he passed.

“Better get out of here before he gives you a matching black eye, you fool,” Kiri taunted. She followed after him then broke off and headed towards Rotxo who’d beckoned her over.

“I really still can’t believe you punched him, ‘Teyam. You’re not boys anymore. You use your words, not your fists!”

“I did warn him though. He’s the one who decided to keep flirting with you,” her husband shrugged as he made his way closer. “He knew he had it coming.”

“Handsome! He only does it to piss you off. You could just ignore him. You know that right?”

“I like my solution better.”

“Of course you do.” This man never ceased to amaze her.

Like an insect to a flame, when he got in reach, Neteyam’s hands crept under her shawl and immediately found her belly, fingers trailing over the smooth firm skin.

“Hi,” he whispered in greeting, ignoring her exasperated expression and kissing her anyway. “How’s my little Sprout doing today?”

Sprout gave a big kick as if awakened by the sound of Neteyam’s voice- as if saying hello daddy!

“Quiet until now. Our baby always knows when it’s you.”

That made him happy.

“What are you doing later? If you’re not busy tonight, do want to go on a date with me?” he asked with a wiggle of his brows.

Xilä pressed up onto her toes and looped her arms around his neck. Her bump prevented her from getting closer, but she made it work.

“Always… Will there be sex at the end?” she teased quietly.

“It’s on the list of activities, yeah.”

“Good. We haven’t done that in a while and I miss you.”

“It’s been only four days, Miss Greedy.”

“Exactly, it has been four days. I’m glad you’ve been keeping track. You’re the one who keeps putting off every one of my efforts.”

“Yeah, cause… baby, you’ve been so tired lately and- hey, don’t even,” he said, halting her objection. “Sprout’s been keeping you up a lot with all the kicking and you need to rest. So, I’m making sure that you do when you can. Even if it means, no sex sometimes.”

Xilä stared up at him for a long minute- taking her time to roam over his facial features. “I love you. What did I do to deserve you? I must have done something right- something big.”

“Stop.” He was trying so hard not to blush. “I hope you remember you love me the next time you want to rip my head off for simply breathing too loud.”

“That was one time.”

He raised an amused brow as if saying really, babe?

“To be fair you have been behaving ridiculous lately. Actually if we’re checking, pretty much since you found out we’re expecting.”

“When have I ever been ridiculous?”

“Are you kidding me? I have a whole list of instances, but if you want more recent- You tried to ban me from hanging out with Spider and Lo’ak just this morning at breakfast!”

“Because the idiots wanted you to go with them to explore Cx’ove Creek!” he hissed. “Who in their right mind invites a pregnant woman to go exploring a srakat infested water cave for fun?”

“I told you already, they were just being nice and simply offered. I wasn’t actually going to go! You didn’t have to be so bossy about it.”

“But I thought you liked it when I was bossy?”

She turned flustered. “Well yes, but-”

Neteyam silenced her with a kiss. Then another when she was about to protest and one final one before she finally gave up trying to argue. “I love you too by the way. Are you hungry? Have you had your second breakfast yet?”

She shook her head with a grumpy frown, eyes following him when he squatted in front of her.

“I think your mama’s mad at me, Sprout,” he whispered to their baby, kissing right where felt a poke, “but don’t worry, I’m going to feed you both and then I think we should all take a nap, and that means you too. Can’t keep waking her up every night, alright?”

They both grinned at their baby’s nudge.

“Alright,” he said, getting up, “time for second breakfast.”

Second breakfast. It made her chuckle every time.

When Jake had picked up on her habit of having another meal after breakfast and before her first lunch, he started calling it “second breakfast” which was some sort of inside joke between him and Norm.

They tried to explain the movie where the joke came from. There was something about a quest and a ring and a creature called a hobbit?

And although it went over her head, second breakfast stuck.

Their final two months at Awa’atlu flew by, bringing many changes along with it.

The majority of the other clan leaders and clan representatives had by now returned to their homes, but for the Sully company, they’d stayed the longest. Jake and his team’s roles were far too important for the massive project they’d started.

What they had accomplished was far from simply great- it was incredible, completely world changing. They had gotten the clans of Pandora to come together. Uniting them in a way that was marked as historic.

With Norm’s guidance, a temporary form of communication between all clans was successfully up and running. It also aided the new system they were trying to implement for the sharing of resources which was finally underway.

And thanks to it, Neteyam was able to secure a safe solution for his wife to return home…

The moment he saw her, the man’s jaw dropped. His grin broadened at the sight of her midsection. “Well look at you, kiddo!” Stephan laughed as he gently hugged Xilä. “The bump suits you, doll. Congrats, darling.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, proudly, hand automatically running along said bump. “Nice hairstyle, it suits you,” she replied, taking in his new-do. The sides were shaved and the hair in the middle was short and spiky.

“Much more me, right?” he winked, moving forward to their packed things to grab up three overstuffed satchels in one hand and a wrapped heavy net in the other. She’d gotten Aonung to organize the specially crafted gift for her last week- she couldn’t wait to give it to Yalnïk.

Neteyam and Lo’ak had just strolled into the marui when she awkwardly tried to bend to pick up a bag with the intention of following after Stephan. A belly bump made simple everyday tasks difficult sometimes, she was still adjusting.

Her mate was quick to tell her off however, mildly scolding her for even attempting to lift anything.

Xilä huffed. “We’ve talked about this, Neteyam. I’m not an invalid. At least let me help carry something out to the ship.”

“Here.” He handed her a small pouch of seaglass stones she and Tuk had collected which made Lo’ak snort when Xilä shot her husband an unimpressed look.

He took off with his own armfulls- the large case he’d brought his weapons in, a thick rolled up pelt and the last three satchels that held their belongings.

“Four more months. Just four more months,” Xilä sang to herself. “Have I told you that your brother is driving me crazy, Lo’ak?”

“Only two or three times a day since you told us you were expecting,” he teased.

“Ugh! Everything is don’t lift that, don’t go there, that’s too dangerous, my baby shouldn’t be eating that, eat this instead, you should rest, you should sit, you should sleep! Eywa! If I didn’t love the man…”

“Hey, don’t look at me for help. You’re the one who willingly chose him as your mate. You knew what you were getting yourself into…” His playful words fell away as he stared at her. “I’m going to miss you, XiXi.”

“Don’t do that, Lo’. You’ll make me cry. Do we really have to do this now?”

He clicked his tongue sympathetically. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”

Xilä took one final glance at the now sparse marui before Lo’ak led them out onto the bouncing pathways.

“I’m going to miss you too, you know. You’d better not hold any blessing celebrations over you and Tsireya without me.”

“Nah. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. After that stunt Neteyam pulled with you, mom would kill me in a heartbeat, and Tsi’s parents aren’t people I want to cross either. Even grandmother threatened me on our last call. She wants to meet Tsireya in person before I officially ask Ronal and Tonowari for their blessing.”

“I get it. You’re bringing her on your visit in a couple of months right?”

“Yep. So you better not have that baby until we arrive.”

“I still can’t believe you’re moving out here. I am so happy for you, though.”

Lo’ak stopped and pulled her in for a hug, being extra careful not to squish her belly. “Hey Xi? I don’t think I ever apologized… but I’m sorry I was such an asshole the first time we met. You’re hella awesome.”

Xi hugged him a little tighter.

The beach was crowded that morning- much like it had been on the first first day they’d arrived. Many Metkayina surrounded Stephan’s ship, all awed and fascinated with the odd metal, bird-like aircraft.

From Xilä’s viewpoint she could see the eccentric Avatar giving a couple of the younglings a tour through the wide glass windows at the front of the ship.

This was it. It was time to return home.

Her and the Sullys’ goodbyes were bittersweet.

Awa’atlu had been their home for the past six months. She had formed deep connections, friendships and had grown attached to the sea and all the beauty that came with it.

“Take care of him for me, will you?” She overheard Neytiri asking Tsireya as they embraced. “He can be a handful sometimes- too stubborn for his own good, but he really is the sweetest boy.”

“Are you sure that contraption is safe?” Ronal interrupted, to ask Jake who was chatting with Tonowari. “I don’t know if it’s any better than your tempered ikrans. It doesn’t look like it.”

“It’s safe,” Jake assured. “They did a lot of repairs on the ship in preparation for this trip. Xilä and the baby will be well protected.”

She gave an unimpressed hum, but said nothing else on the matter. Her expression softened when Xilä approached to bid her goodbye. “You better bring that baby with you next time you visit. I can already sense your child will be destined for great things…”

Xi was finishing making her rounds when a voice called for her.

“Are you not going to say goodbye to me, beautiful?”

“Aonung.”

“Tsk. Aw come on Xi- I’m hurt, wounded,” he joked solemnly- palm over his heart.

“Take care of yourself, okay? I mean it.”

His smile fell a little. “I’m going to miss having you around. It was sure fun riling up your husband… I never did get to fight him again.”

A chest plastered against her back and she automatically leaned into it. “Yeah, cause you know you’d lose again, you skxawng,” Neteyam teased from over her head with a possessive palm to her round tummy.

Xi shook her head, highly amused- there they went again.

She was really going to miss this place.

Xilä’s reunion with her family was a joyful one. Welcomed home with open arms and all the love they had to give, she knew she made the right decision to come home.

Returning to the forest eased Xilä’s worries. It was safety, it was warmth and love. It was… home.

And although they’d been gone for six months, she and Neteyam had settled back in quite quickly and were able to return to their routines just like before.

She resumed her studies with Mo’at, eager to share all that she’d learned from the metkayina and Neteyam returned to his duties as a high ranker, along with all the other responsibilities he had under his belt.

What was most exciting was catching up on how much she’d missed out on.

Kah’lee and W’aote were on some sort of weird break where they weren’t talking but would still have the occasional “fuck session.” W’aote apparently was ready to settle down, but Kah’lee wasn’t- which was strange because before Xi left for Awa’atlu, it was the other way around. Kah’s hesitancy to officially court him sparked an argument between the two, thus creating the weird separation.

Leati and Ze��lu however were going strong. The female warrior loathed public displays of affection but Ze’lu appeared to be a stage five clinger- Kiri’s words, not hers. The man was completely in love and would smother his woman in affection despite her grumpy, lackluster protests.

Xilä personally thought they were a perfect couple. He calmed her bitchiness and temper tantrums and she brought him out of his shell. It was the perfect balance.

The twins' development, however, amazed Xi the most. They were toddling around everywhere now, and always chatting up a storm in a mixture of baby babbles and their ever growing learnt vocabulary.

They were also both fascinated with her belly bump, especially whenever Neteyam was able to coax a big movement from Sprout- tiny little hands patting her with excited squeals.

And speaking of babies. Xi and her husband had done a lot of preparing for their little one’s arrival. Xi had never sewed as much as she did before- Sal was a big help in that department.

Meanwhile Jxo and Neteyam did a lot of upgrades and rearranging of their tent in their spare time. Jake had pitched in too, only he called it baby proofing.

Her father had also built them the cutest little cot she’d ever seen… It was very similar to the ones he did for his first two grandbabies- and yes, she did cry when he gifted it to them.

Since finding out that they were going to be parents, the mated pair were eager to absorb as much information and advice from those closest to them. And sure, they would have the support whenever they needed it, but they wanted to learn to do as much of it as possible on their own.

As she neared the end of her pregnancy, Xi had grown increasingly miserable. She couldn’t move as fast as before. Her bump prevented her from certain tasks, her feet ached all the time, she could never find the right position to sleep in and quite frankly, she was just about ready for Sprout to move out.

Neteyam was another matter entirely.

Four weeks ago, Mo’at had instructed her that she was supposed to be taking it easy- an instruction her husband was all too eager and diligent in making happen…

He’d become increasingly overbearing and overprotective of her throughout her pregnancy. It seemed as if as her baby bump grew, so did his possessiveness.

He snapped at anyone who so much as breathed too much in her direction. It was probably worse than his clinginess back when she’d been rescued from Li’ona.

Suffice to say because of said behaviour, it was no surprise when he and the women of their family butted heads a few times.

Sal and Neytiri had to keep reminding him that pregnant women were tougher than they looked. He and D’avi also got into far too many bickering matches whenever he hovered and lingered during their “sisterly bonding dates”.

Kiri and Mo’at simply found Neteyam’s behaviour amusing- Xi was sure she’d never seen the grandmother so entertained before.

And when Xilä had finally met her twelve month mark- due date coming and going, there was no baby. She was a week overdue now and felt uncomfortably massive.

“Why doesn’t the baby want to come out,” she whined.

“You’ve made too good a home for your little one it seems,” Mo’at joked mildly as she ran her hands over the stretch of Xilä’s skin, fingers pressing down to feel the baby’s position. “We shall have to do some coaxing then, hm?”

“What kind of coaxing?” Neteyam asked quickly.

“Have her take a walk. She can try some char’mille tea, heavily spiced herb broth, perhaps a warm bath and sex.”

Xilä knew the list of suggestions, and yet even as the Tsahìk voiced the last one, her cheeks still tinged lightly. Her mate seemed unaffected though. He nodded seriously and asked his grandmother a couple other million questions- like he always did whenever they came in for a visit.

Is it normal that her boobs are already leaking milk?

When will they know for sure she’s in labor?

Do they need to wait until her waters break or until the contractions start before coming in?

How painful will the birth be for her?

Was there anything he could do to ease it?

Fingers interlocked and propped up on her bump, Xilä relaxed as best as possible while her husband went on and on with question after question.

Midway through their visit, he handed her a leaf wrapped snack that appeared from nowhere- some thinly sliced nectar coated meat placed between two sari cakes with mashed teylu and diced shrooms. Not the most appetizing thing to anyone else, but it was all she livid off of for the past week.

Xilä smiled at her husband’s attentiveness and dug in without needing to be told.

“And I know I’ve asked already, but are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for her during the birth?”

“Your role is to support her. The moment is all about her… and then all about her and the baby. She needs calm. You soothe and encourage her through it all. That’s it. If you can’t do that then you stay outside the birth room… Now, any other questions?”

“Yes. What-”

This boy! Mo’at huffed and shot Xilä a half amused, half frustrated expression. “Are you sure you want him to stay during the birth?”

“What do you mean? Of course I’m-”

“I’m not asking you, ‘Teyam… Xilä?”

“I wouldn’t want him anywhere else,” she smiled.

They’d tried almost everything.

But no amount of tea, or broth, or walks or baths did anything to nudge their little Sprout out of her.

She was too uncomfortable for sex, so only when nothing else on the list worked and she was just about at her wits end, did she finally decide to give lovemaking a go.

“You’ll have to do all the work. I’m not moving a muscle,” she groaned.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.”

Xilä could cry. “Well we’re going to have to! I want the baby out already, ‘Teyam! I’m so uncomfortable. My skin feels stretched to its limit, my boobs feel like they’re about to explode. And there are parts of me that hurt, that I didn’t even know could hurt like this! I don’t want to do this anymore. Please- just please do something! And why are you standing so fucking far away?!”

Shit! “Alright hey, hey. I’m here, baby.” He climbed into their hammock beside her, sensing a mental breakdown. “Sweetheart-”

“This is not sex,” she frowned when he cuddled her into his arms.

He tried not to smile. “Let’s take a breather first, yeah?”

She nodded and blew out a gush of air. “I’m sor-”

“Stop,” he whispered against her lips. “Just relax, sweetheart.”

He hummed the little tune he’d started singing to Sprout whenever he got too rowdy while his large palm soothingly ran over the curve of her belly. He prepared her with tiny kisses wherever he could reach from his position and sent silent prayers to Eywa to ease her discomfort.

“‘Teyam.”

“Xi.”

“I have to pee… again.”

He kissed her forehead. “Okay. Let’s go.”

After helping her to her feet, they probably only made it a couple steps before Xilä stopped with a gasp. A gush of liquid escaped her- it coated her inner thighs and rolled over her calves and ankles as it fell to the floor.

“Was that-”

“My waters broke,” she said, staring dumbstruck at the puddle at her feet.

The room was too crowded.

Neteyam was itching to throw them all out and with every passing second, every glance towards anyone who wasn’t his wife, his patience grew thinner.

They were nearing the fifth hour since Xilä’s waters broke. Her contractions were slowly growing more frequent now, and it was killing him every time he saw another wave of pain hit her.

Seated between his raised thighs, he felt her body tense up again. She moaned through gritted teeth and desperately squeezed his forearms while the pain consumed her for a couple seconds too long for him, before her shoulders slumped and head fell backwards as she panted.

“You’re doing so good,” he whispered against her temple.

She gave a shaky laugh in response.

“Do you want me to take over, ‘Teyam? You can go stretch your legs for a bit and-”

“No.” He winced at his tone and shot his mother-in-law an apologetic half smile. “Sorry. But no, I’m good, Sal. I’m not going anywhere.”

Five minutes later, his mother came and asked the same damn question.

Ten minutes after that, D’avi offered to sing Xilä a “calming song” she thought would help sooth her.

Neteyam knew it was their custom to have a “village” present for a birth… but this? This was too much.

Why couldn’t they wait outside with the men- as well as the shocking mass of clan members who’d shown up to give their support?

That damn song made him reach his limit.

The singing, combined with the not so soft chatter from Leati’ and Kah’lee seated in the corner of the tent, Sal and Neytiri’s bustling around the small private quarters Mo’at had set up for them as they made arrangements and Kiri and Mo’at’s ingredient tinkering- he’d had enough.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“How mad at me would you be if I kicked them all out?”

Her head moved against his shoulder.

“What? Who?”

Even with sweat slicked hair and heated flushed cheeks, he thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“All of them? Except grandmother of course.”

Xi turned and took in the room’s activities. Her stifled anxiety quickened so she quickly glanced away again.

“You can say no.”

“Honestly? It’s crowded. I won’t be upset if you ask them to leave,” she admitted. “I love them all and I’m glad they’re here to support us… but it’s just…”

“Overwhelming right?”

She nodded, feeling a wave of guilt consume her.

Reading her all too well, he brushed her jaw with his thumb. “There’s nothing to feel bad- or be sorry about. They’ll understand.”

Xi internally debated asking D’avi to stay. But if she was being honest with herself, she wanted this moment to be between her and mate.

“Wait”- she stopped him before he could move- “do it nicely, okay? I don’t want any of them to think they’re a problem.”

He kissed her neck and promised to be nice about kicking out everyone before he got up.

Sal looked ready to put up a fight with him but with one glance at her daughter who Mo’at was helping through another contraction, she relented.

The women understood- thankfully.

Both mothers showered Xilä with kisses before they left and assured they’d be a call away and just in the next room giving up prayers of their own.

In the quiet dim space, Mo’at’s chats shifted in waves of highs and lows. Xilä’s wails however, overshadowed them.

“No more. No I can’t. I CAN’T do thi-” Xilä broke off into another cry that Neteyam helplessly tried to sooth.

“Xilä, breathe.” Mo’at patted her thigh and waved another round of spiced smoke from a lit herb bundle.

“‘Teyam,” she whimpered through never-ending tears, breathing heavily in pants she fought to control.

“I know sweetheart, I know.” He brushed away the stubborn strands of hair that kept getting stuck to her forehead. “You’re doing so good. Almost there, baby.”

Her chin wobbled and she licked her chapped lips.

“Tell me what to do for you. What can I do?” We wished he had the power to take away her pain.

“Tell me a story?”

He couldn’t help the breathy chuckle that escaped him. It had been a while since she’d asked for one of those. Lips to her temple, he tasted salt. “What kind, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know. Any? I just need to hear your voice. Please?”

“Okay, I got you,” he soothed. “I’ll tell you about the one that changed my life, yeah?”

Her head fell forward when another contraction rolled in- back arching away from him. Her fingers bit into the flesh of his thighs that bracketed her own. His palms ran over her sweat slick skin- shoulders, arms and the backs of her hands whilst soft cooed words fell from his lips.

Only when it was over and she sagged against him- fatigue dripping heavily with another plea for him to talk, did he start his story.

“It all started on what I thought was a random day of the worst year of my life. Nothing was going right and so much was weighing heavily on me. I decided I needed to get away for a couple day, so I went on a solo hunting trip to blow off some steam.”

He ducked to check on her. Her eyelids half closed while she stifled a whimper.

“I caught nothing though, couldn’t focus- I kept missing my shots. On my last day, after catching nothing again, I was just about to head back home when a woodspirit distracted me. And then I heard a sudden scream- a gut wrenching and skin chilling one at that. So I followed it and I found this odd little cloaked thing running from a nantang. They tried to climb a tree to escape, but they slipped, and fell.”

Xilä’s heart thudded in her eardrums… She knew this story.

“Anyway, after I took care of the beast, I approached the hooded and masked stranger. They blinked up at me for a second, with- with the most incredible eyes I’d ever seen, before they blacked out. And when I pulled the mask away”- he made an approving pleased sound- “the stranger? Prettiest thing I’d ever laid my eyes on.”

Mo’at’s chants grew quieter as she continued to waft smoke in Xi’s direction- it helped her calm somewhat.

“Anyway, I didn’t know it at the time, but I made the best decision of my life by taking her home with me… After an order from my dad, I had no choice but to spend time with this gorgeous creature every day, and you know what?”

Xi’s eyes closed. “What?”

“It was pure torture,” he whispered in her ear, making her snicker with a moaned wince.

“So then what happened?”

Neteyam bent and nuzzled her cheek, palm coming to rest on her stomach. “So, then I fell in love with her… and by some miracle she loved me right back.”

“And then?”

“And then I claimed her as mine, and she claimed me as hers… can you believe that? She became my mate. Mine.”

Xi peered up at him- pure love and adoration shining through her pain stricken face. “And then?”

He wiped the tear rolling down her cheekbone. “No… and now… and forever.”

“Xilä,” Mo’at called. “It’s time to push.”

“‘Teyam… can’t-”

“Shhh. Come on baby, what am I always telling you? Hm? You’re strong- you can do anything.”

“It hurts,” she whimpered.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. Lean on me, sweetheart, I got you.”

Their baby came into the world with a hearty cry. Wails almost deafening but Neteyam laughed in glee- eyes prickling at the sight of the tiny wrinkly blue creature Mo’at placed on Xilä’s bare chest.

A boy. A son.

“Neteyam- oh ‘Teyam, look at him. He’s-” Xi grinned through her tears- pain forgotten, “he’s perfect.”

Neteyam couldn’t keep his eyes off of their little Sprout. “Holy shit.” He was here- their baby- their son.

Arms over Xi’s he gently cradled his baby’s head. “So much hair,” he marvelled.

“It’s dark like yours, handsome.” Xi couldn’t move her eyes away- too busy trying to absorb every single detail.

Index finger extended, Neteyam touched his son’s palm, and when his teeny tiny fingers closed over the digit, his heart melted.

Their son’s cries turned to whimpers as Xi soothed him and he looked almost annoyed as he blinked up at them through half opened eyes before they closed again.

“Hi precious, I’m your mama. Hi, aren’t you the sweetest.”

“I think he’s got your eyes, baby. I caught a flash of silver.”

Xi took a damp cloth from Mo’at and began to clean their son- removing away as much of the waxy type substance that coated his skin.

Mo’at eventually took over after ensuring Xi was taken care of. The elder handled their baby with expertise. He began to fuss while she checked him over- gums, tiny tail, pointed ears and queue.

The grandmother failed to hide her sniffle and misty eyes, voice soft in her whispered prayers to Eywa.

“He’s okay?” Neteyam was itching to have their baby back.

“Perfect. A healthy baby boy.” She handed the crying infant back to his mother and he instantly quieted. She gently cupped Xi’s cheek. “You were amazing, darling. Congratulations to you two.”

“Thank you, grandmother. For everything. Thank you.”

Little Sprout gave an unhappy coo, and like a natural, Xi arranged him in her arms and helped him find her nipple. It took a couple tries and whispered coaxing but the instant he latched, he was hungrily suckling.

Neteyam stared at the two of them, entranced and amazed- unaware when his grandmother snuck out to share the news with the rest of their family.

He kissed his wife’s temple, with whispered words of praise- telling her how proud he was of her. She met his lips with hers for a brief moment and with her own I love you’s.

After she shifted their baby to her other breast and he had his fill, she gently burped him, cooing a soft good job when he did.

“Ready to hold him, handsome?”

He nodded eagerly and shuffled out from behind Xilä, accepting hands comically larger in comparison to their infant.

Was it possible to love someone wholeheartedly after knowing them for less than an hour?

His mate was right, their son was perfect.

Nestled in the crook of his arms, their baby yawned, tiny fists clenched against his cheeks, knees drawn up against his tummy.

Neteyam’s heart could burst. Happiness consumed him.

“He looks just like you. Just like his daddy.”

The resemblance was startling, he thought. A mini him.

Xi peered at the second love of her life, head resting against her husband's bicep. “I don’t think any of the names we picked out suits him, and as much as I think it’s a cute nickname, I’m not calling our son Sprout.”

“You’re right… we’ll figure it out though.” He kissed the top of her head. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Do you ache?”

She nodded, fingers gently touching her son’s tiny toes, they twitched and Xi thought she’d just about burst into tears. “Yes, but I can bear it. I can’t believe our baby’s here with us now. I’m so happy, ‘Teyam, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Me too.”

Sprout shifted and made a soft noise in his sleep before settling- tail giving a slight flick against Neteyam’s hand. He truly couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

“Our families’ are going to go crazy, they’re gonna love him. They’re probably going mad over waiting so long as well,” he joked.

“Let them wait,” Xi sighed, the pad of her thumb tracing a delicately soft cheek. “Let’s just be together a little longer, yeah?”

Neteyam smiled in agreement. “Whatever you want, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”

This chapter was soooo difficult to write & edit, I hope you all enjoyed it anyway!

First things first, yes, that was the last chapter- but WAIT. There will be a two-part epilogue. One- a slice of life after the birth of little Sprout and Two- a couple years after that.

PS. I still haven't settled 100% on a name for Sprout, so you can still send suggestions. Also, for girl names too (since they may or may not have another baby/babies in the epilogue).... (Who am I kidding, of course they will) LOL!

Okay, now cue the waterworks...

Thank you, THANK YOU to everyone of you who've followed me on this journey. Safe Haven is so special to me and I have enjoyed sharing it with you all.

Every read, every like, every comment, every suggestion and idea- just know I appreciate them all!

This community has been so welcoming and the response to a newbie writer like myself is profound.

As always, please share your thoughts :)

Tags:@jakesullyfatjuicypeen@granddearduck@riatesullironalite@strawberri-blonde@earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop@blkmystery@neteswife@luvteyams@isnt-itstrange@erenjaegerwifee@faatxma@ivysully@bakugouswaif@pinkpantheris @mntx666@ironcaptainnataliabarnes

#neteyam #neteyam x oc #neteyam avatar #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam sully

163 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago

Text

Helping Hand 14

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

Characters: Jonathan Pine, 40s reader

Part of the Bookstore AU

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

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

You stare at the wall. Your eyes are too dry to cry. The pain, the memory of the night before, the reality you find yourself trapped in, cannot bring the swell to surface. A blur moves along the edge of your sight and your eyes come into focus.

You watch Jonathan plant the lap desk over your thighs. He pauses to pet your head and kiss your forehead. You grit down and turn your attention back to the plaster.

“Can’t have you fussing over breakfast,” he purrs, “doctor’s orders that you relax.”

You don’t respond. He hums, disappointed, but doesn’t reproach you. You almost prefer your ex and his bluntness. At least he would tell you what you did.

You sit in the fog of painkillers and disbelief. It still doesn’t seem real. Jonathan. The refined businessman, the proper gentleman, entirely above you, and yet he’s entirely twisted. Last night, the way he touched you, the way he ignored your pain and used it against it, it’s not so different than every other man you’ve known.

It’s your own fault for believing there were decent ones left in this world. Or that they ever existed at all.

He returns and lays out a generous meal; orange juice and coffee to be certain you have whatever you like; crepes rolled and sprinkled with sugar and drizzled with syrup, berries glistening, yogurt and granola in a small cup on the side. It’s all perfect. Just like everything else in his life. Can’t he see that you are anything but?

“There you are, darling,” he proclaims as he backs up.

He stands and watches. His blue eyes no longer remind you of the summer sky, rather they are icy and cold. You look down and lift the cutlery.

“Thanks,” you murmur as he clears his throat.

You eat. Not because you’re hungry but to keep yourself from sinking any further into horror. You don’t taste it. If this was anywhere else, you might be in awe of the culinary precision and medley of flavours. You can hardly think through the drug-laced nightmare.

You finish and he takes away the tray and lap table. You lean back into the pillows and grown. There’s a new pang in your hip. It started when he had himself over you, rolling against you, your legs splayed beneath him.

You close your eyes and slump. You don’t hear him return. The world shifts as he moves you to lay on your back, removing a pillow to reposition you.

“Darling, how do you feel?” He brushes his knuckles against your cheek. “The doctor recommended a hot bath? How about it?” You groan and stay hidden under your eye lids. He bends and kisses your forehead before he stands again, “very well.”

You sense him back away but do not look. You've known this helplessness before. During your first marriage when you truly believed you were trapped with Andy forever. You can only hope Jonathan tires of you just the same, but what then? Starting over again with even less time.

You hear the distant splash of water on porcelain and wince. The jolt sends electricity down your spine. You groan and grimace in pain.

His footfalls mark his return. Your eyes open as he approaches and sits on the edge of the bed. He undresses you as you put up no resistance. What’s the use in it? It only hurts more.

He removes the sling gently before he strips away your other layers. When you're naked, you don't even have the strength to be ashamed. Maybe the stretch marks might scare him away.

He gently slips his arms beneath you. As he lifts you, you moan. He coos at you, hushing your pain. You lean into him with no other choice but to let him do what he wants. So very much like your first marriage.

He takes you into the bathroom and lowers you into basin. You can't help but be soothed by the warmth of the water as it laps down. The futility keeps you there.

He shifts, his shadow moving beyond your eyelids. It isn't until he touches you again, that you react. Your lashes flick up and you wince as tension strings up your muscles.

He gently slides his hand under your uninjured shoulder and sits you forward. He's naked, a striking realization that has you even more rigid. He angles in behind you, easily, all too smoothly, moving to sit against the porcelain as he brings you over him. Your eyes dart to the ceiling and stick there as he eases you back. You're horrified at the feeling of his flesh against yours. The heat is even more intense than the water.

He sighs as he embraces you from below, your head on his shoulder, and his hands crawl around your hips. Mortified, you keep him from touching your stomach. He stops but runs his hands in the other direction, tracing along your pelvis and kneading your thighs.

You reach for him again and he brushes you off. You're uncomfortable and not because the pain. He's touching those parts of you that are ugly. The ones marked with age and fat. The ones your husband hated so much. The ones that drove him to another.

“You needn't punish yourself any longer, darling,” he reprimands, “I'm only trying to give you all you deserve.”

You scoff and feel him stiffen. He once more frames your hips and hums, “what?”

“Nothing,” you mutter.

“No, tell me what is so amusing.”

“What I deserve? To be thrown on the floor? To be kept in a bed all day at your beck and call–”

“It was an accident, darling, we both were there–”

“You know it wasn't,” you sneer furiously and try to sit up, “ahhhh!”

You fall back, heavy enough that you feel the air rush out of him. He steadies you with his hands on your sides and you groan and snivel. You hate this. You hate feeling this helpless. You never wanted to be trapped again, yet here you are.

#dark jonathan pine #dark!jonathan pine #jonathan pine #jonathan pine x reader #the night manager #series #drabble #bookstore au #au #helping hand

40 notes · View notes

constellationandcompendium · 1 year ago

Text

Writeblr Intro

Greetings traveller!

About Me:

She/her, early 30s

PhD graduate working in heritage

British (obsessed with tea)

Also sings and crochets

Enjoys both Star Trek & Star Wars

Occasional NaNoWriMo participant

Fanfic writer of 15 years making the jump into original fiction (find my fandom blog @thetamehistorian)

Happy to take asks / play tag games etc.

Has a habit of designing covers rather than writing

Second attempt at this blog (main blog this time, cha cha real smooth)

Tends To Write / Read

Sci-Fi & Cyberpunk

Urban Fantasy & Fantasy

Historical

Comedy (this suprised me too)

Introducing My WIPS

A crime thriller with a touch of cyberpunk...

Featuring

Man with habit of doing wrong thing for right reason

Best buds to reluctant allies to ‘I would die for you’

That ‘I can’t believe you’ve done this’ meme

Conspiracies and double agents

Lots of angst and hurt (with some comfort)

Wholesome parent / child relationships

Summary

Solaris City has a problem. Whilst the metropolis flourishes, down below in the old mines the Undercity grows wild and dangerous, it’s people cut off from the prosperity above, dreaming of the sun and spreading Haze - an addictive drug.

Elias also has a problem. Working for the Bureau has cleaned his slate but he hasn’t cut all ties with those underground. Now there’s a girl hidden in his flat and something big has been uncovered that has his contacts in a flurry.

With two days to go to a vote on unifying the two halves of the city, and his friend Sebastien caught right in the middle, Elias has a feeling that it'll only take one domino falling for everything to come crashing down.

Work Page

First Draft Complete, If Messy (Mind the Plot Holes)

A sci-fi comedy of a ship of misfits...

Featuring

Puns for ship names (and just bad jokes in general)

Captain packing up the ship and all its crew because they can no longer thrive in this household

Overly social parents (please stop inviting my professor over to dinner)

Space worker unions (and aliens)

Learning self-worth and finding strength through working together

Found family

Summary

The United Earth Ship Archimedes patrols the border of charted space. Beyond it - the vast and unexplored reaches of the universe.

It’s an exciting prospect for Aster Kobor, newly graduated from the fleet academy and hoping to make her mark upon the stars. Unfortunately, it only takes a few weeks for Aster to realise that the Archimedes is nicknamed ‘the screw’ for a reason. It’s a ship for the rejects and misfits, those deemed unfit to serve in the frontier ships and command never lets them do anything exciting. Still, Aster is determined to make the best of it and, unbeknownst to her, her meddling Captain is about to give the crew of the Archimedes their chance to show command what they're made of.

Soon a bad reputation is the least of their troubles and, whether the crew like it or not, they’ll have to learn to survive in deep space - where their only certainty is each other.

Work Page

Currently Wrangling Vibes Into ~ Characters ~ and ~ Plot ~

A historical novel about determined women, trains, and winning a war…

Featuring

One woman’s obsession with the railways

Code breaking commuters

Breakfasts cooked on a coal shovel

Being accidentally adopted by an elderly fireman and driver duo

Occasional air raid for added ~spice~

Solidarity in the face of adversity and outdated systems

Summary

Bea had always been fascinated by the railways, but her dream of driving one of the locomotives always seemed out of reach. Working the trains is dangerous, dirty, and completely off limits to the fairer sex.

Then the war came and the men went off the fight. Answering the call to help, Bea and her fellow railway volunteers find themselves with an opportunity of a lifetime. Obscured from judging eyes by steam and smoke they shadow the veteran drivers and engineers, learning what they can on the job and hitting the library when they can't.

The trains need to run, they are vital to the war effort. All it would take is one rogue bomb, one mishap to take out a driver and the wheels stop spinning.

Or at least, that's what the station manager thinks.

Work Page

Currently Doing Research and Initial Planning!

#introductions #wips #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writeblr intro #writeblr introduction #writer

96 notes · View notes

chronically-gay-whoops · 5 months ago

Text

Till Death Do Us Part - An Arthur Morgan x OC Story *Part One*

Content Warnings – Kidnapping, Death Threats, Micah Bell, Unplanned Pregnancy, Trauma, Angst, Character Deaths, Eventual Happy Ending (not in this part)

Word Count – 1.3k

Part One - 1.3k words (17th July 2024)

Part Two - 1.7k words (17th July 2024)

Part Three - 1.2k words (19th July 2024)

Authors Note – Some of you may have seen my desperate search for the fic I read years ago along a similar storyline to this. Despite constant searching, I never found it and am genuinely starting to think that it came to me in a dream. So here I am, writing a fic yet again. This will be my first fic since the days of Marvel One-shots over on Wattpad back in 2019, so sorry if I’m rusty!! This’ll either be 2 or 3 parts, should all be published within a week or so 😊

Also, can anyone let me know how to write masterlists/link fics? So that I can do the whole ‘part one here, part two here’ thing?

A quick introduction to the OC of this fic – Florence ‘Flo’ Morgan – 26 years old (1899, 34 in 1907). Married to Athur Morgan since the summer of 1896, and a part of the Van Der Linde Gang since 1885, as Florence Nelson, at 12 years of age. After spending her childhood growing up alongside young Arthur Morgan and John Marston, with Dutch and Hosea as her mentors and honorary parents, her and Arthur eventually became sweet on each other, choosing to court from 1890, learning that they were the loves of each others lives.

-x-

“Flo, please, go. I’m sorry” whispered Arthur, the both of you hidden just outside of the entrance to Beaver Hollow. A single tear slid down his cheek as he held your shaking hands, his cerulean eyes glistening with pure heartbreak.

You both knew the truth – the gang was well and truly at an end. It had been an unbelievable 19 years since you’d first found your place in this family of misfits, but the time had come. To make matters worse, you knew that you were to be continuing with life alone. Your husband, the sweet, strong, seemingly invincible man, was dying. And you knew it. He never told you, but he should have known by now that after 3 years of marriage, and even longer as simply clueless soulmates, you knew him better than he knew himself.

At your silence, Arthur gently pushed you towards your horse. A loyal mare, a sweet grey thoroughbred named Darcy. She had been a part of the gang since you and Arthur first developed your relationship, almost 10 years ago now. Sensing your wrecked emotions, she gently nuzzled the back of your neck, seemingly knowing exactly what Arthur was expecting you to do, and preparing herself for the long and emotionally draining ride ahead of her.

“Arthur, please. Let me come with you. We can do this together”, you sniffle, grabbing desperately at his hands once again. Even though you knew exactly what reality held for you, you still plead for a second chance, a glimmer of hope inside you that together, you could beat Micah and Dutch, and live out your happily ever after. In your heart, you knew that would never happen, so even going forward with the love of your life to inevitably die together would suffice your aching soul. Sure, it wasn’t the way you wanted it to go, but at least you’d be sticking to the promise of ‘till death do us part’.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I really am. But you know I can’t let you come. I need you to be safe”, he responded, holding onto your hands, squeezing them gently. “You have to be safe”. Taking your waist gently, Arthur lifted you into Darcy’s saddle, his arms as strong as ever for you, despite his developing weakness. He always found strength for you. You had no regrets in this relationship, or life in general, not really. But you wish Arthur could’ve brought himself to tell you the truth about his illness. You suppose he’d rather that you believe that he’d died in the inevitable fight against Micah and Dutch, not succumbing to a fatal illness. It was a pride thing, you guessed.

Holding back a sob, you settle in your saddle, your feet sliding instinctively into your stirrups. Arthur takes your hands once again, shaking palms sliding into yours, and stares into your eyes. His face says a thousand words, but instant he mutters four simple ones. And they mean so much more than usual.

“I love you, Florence.”

You lean down for a final kiss, pressing your forehead against his, trying to put the last 9 years of love and devotion into this last moment together. A sudden rustle from within the now mostly derelict camp makes Arthur break out of his trance, quickly bringing him back to reality. He reluctantly pulls himself away from you, giving you a final look and a bittersweet smile.

Arthur gives Darcy a final pat, thanking her for her years of loyalty to the both of you, and you gently spur her forward, encouraging her away from the camp, away from the danger, and away from the love of your life. As she falls into a gentle canter, you look behind you one last time, giving Arthur a wistful look as he turns around, readying himself for the oncoming fight.

2 months later

The last 8 weeks of your life had truly been the most traumatic time. But the morning you had just experienced made the whole thing a lot more real.

After the loss of your husband, you had managed to reunite with John, Abigail, and the others. While you were far from safe, it definitely felt a lot more relaxed than the past few months you had gone through. Although you were on the run from the law on a daily basis, you finally had managed to rid yourself of the constant fear of the gang literally killing each other. The remaining portion of the gang had managed to set up a small camp just north of Ambarino, in the state of Oregon. Constantly on the look out of people following you, it was far from relaxing, but felt like a paradise in comparison. If only Arthur was there to see it, you couldn’t help but think.

However, a new fear had come to head. Whilst you originally put the lack of your monthly bleeding down to stress, new symptoms had caused Abigail to start giving you knowing looks. Looks that you didn’t even understand, to begin with. But after a serious conversation, your condition was clear. Pregnancy. With the man who you became a widow to 2 months ago. Due to be born to a life of running, at least until the extensive bounty was off your head. The worst case scenario.

Curse your mind. Your overactive brain couldn’t help to focus on one small light in this dark, dark time. You were getting a part of him back. What if they had his eyes? His laugh? His dry sense of humor? His intense way of caring and loving for anyone that mattered?

If this didn’t make you feel guilty, you didn’t know what would. How could you be finding joy in this time? Knowing that your child would be doomed, and yet still feeling a sense of happiness in it? Knowing that you were to live a life of single parenthood, knowing that your Arthur would never get to even know that his child was ever even a thing?

While your future was terrifying, the chance of having a part of your love back healed a small part of you.

1 month later

As your stomach slowly began to swell, the inevitable change in your life started to dwell on you. Yet still, the only person to know the truth was Abigail. Dear, pure Abigail. You don’t think you could’ve done any of this without her. Her knowing looks and careful tone was all you needed to come to terms with your condition. Speaking of, you knew she was looking for you, knowing that the impossible conversation was long overdue.

As you sat by the edge of your measly lakeside camp in North Western Oregon, gently stroking your tiny bump, you heard Abigail heading towards you, turning to see her striding in your direction with purpose set in her face. “Florence, you ready?” she murmured as she sat down next to you, digging her heels into the sand as she turned to watch you intently.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose”, you sigh, the weight of the world sitting heavily on your shoulders. “What’s the plan?”

Whilst the plan was simple, it was far from ideal. In short, you’d leave. Find a little homestead in the west, with the money Arthur left for you, as far from West Elizabeth and the surrounding areas as possible, and settle down. When the baby has come, move somewhere more temperate, more permanent, and just make your life work. A heartbreaking, lonely life, but the only one that would work.

The second part of the plan was the part that broke you more. When leaving, you’d tell nobody. Abigail would act none the wiser, and not even John, your brother since a child, would know of your situation. Not Sadie, not Charles, not anyone. A life where you were doomed to merely exist as a mother, until luck eventually found its way to you. If that ever was to happen.

You had a week until the end of your life as you knew it.

-x-

Thank you so much for reading, please like, reblog and comment for part 2 <3

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #read dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan angst #arthur morgan x oc #Florence Oseman (OC)

41 notes · View notes

theonewhospeaksinweird · 1 year ago

Text

💜Protection (Charlotte Katakuri x Female!Reader) Pt. 1💜

💚 = Lime/Lil Spicy

💛 = Lemon

💙 = Sad

❤️ = Angsty (won't do many of these unless prompted)

💜 = Fluff

💔 = Heartbreak (rare unless prompted)

🖤 = Normal

I'm sorry to anyone who has tried to request a story from me since I started writing here, but I was going through some things with school, graduating, and getting my life ready for adulting.~ I also got married, and am moving with my husband!~ And now I'm back with a self-indulgent story for my favorite character from One Piece, Charlotte Katakuri!~ Enjoy!~

Part 1 - -> Part 2 - -> Part 3

Nervousness seeped into my bones as I tried to calm myself. Gardening the castle grounds wasn't necessary, but I had nothing else to do with my anxious hands, so I tended to the house and my personal garden with them. I had already tried to sit down and read a book in our room, but seeing the bed reminded me of the moment I shared with my husband this morning. For once, that was what I was trying to distract myself from right now, and my husband was the source of my mounting anxieties.

"Why do you have to go today?" This variation of my needlessly repetitive daily question slipped from my lips as I breathed in his sweet scent. One I felt the need to ask every morning as if he would choose to stay in bed with me all day rather than do his job. Sometimes I, selfishly, wish he would stay, but I'd never make him choose. The devotion to his family that he shows every moment of the day is one of the many things that made me fall in love with him, after all. Even if it's clear that this duty takes a hefty toll on his body and mind, I still support him in every endeavor he chooses.

His morning voice rumbled more than usual, and it made me press further into his warm, enveloping skin under the covers as we whispered sleepily to each other. The bliss of our intimacy alone had me never wanting to leave my paramount husband's side. His arms were so immense and encompassing, and I was so small and protected. Never fearing anything but the absence of my husband. A deep sigh from him lifted me up and down on his chest as he came to a clearer consciousness.

"It's my duty, love, you know that." His beautiful incisors gently grazed my head as he spoke, entertaining my usual silly question of worry. Butterflies still tickled my stomach at the endearment he addressed me as, even after three years of marriage. Those flutters overwhelmed me with a wave of adoration for my giant lover. Of course, I believed in my husband's strength, I've seen what he is capable of firsthand multiple times.

If this were almost any other pirate crew member his mother was executing, I wouldn't be worried, but this was one of the worst generation's crew members, Black Leg Sanji of the Strawhat Pirates, so I couldn't help but fret a little. There wasn’t anyone on the Grand Line that had not heard of this infamous crew that had done the impossible over and over. And that was all before they disappeared for two years, presumed to be disbanded after a disheartening defeat at both Sabaody and Marineford. Who knew how much stronger they were after all this time. All of that didn’t even include the superhuman abilities of Germa 66 that were sure to turn on us the moment the betrayal registered.

Letting out a small hum, I attempted to dispel the worry from my thoughts so I could relish the last half hour I had with my husband for this morning before he went off to put himself in harm's way. For his family. For me. My droopy eyes opened slowly to see the hidden beauty of my husband that only I was allowed to gaze upon. From his beautiful, pearly teeth to his peaceful face that also only seemed to be reserved for my presence. The sharp, masculine lines of his face seemed softened, especially his arched eyebrows that were always furrowed when he was around anyone. Anyone except me, that is. My significantly smaller thumb brushed along his rough scar, making him shudder as he too opened his worn eyes filled with adoration the same as mine. Our equally sleepy eyes met as I continued to caress his momentary tenseness and my worry away.

I gave him a soft smile as I leaned in closer to nom his nose playfully, my lips covering my teeth. Technically, I could bite it off, but he currently seemed to be too sleepy to regrow it. A smile of his own upturned the corners of his mouth, making me undeniably happy and let slip a few giggles. Even though I've seen it multiple times before, it still makes me giddy to know that I make him smile. My tittering was joined by his rumble of a chuckle as we cuddled impossibly closer, his strong arms enveloping my person tighter than before. A comfortable silence cocooned us as we soaked in each other's care.

It was only about us right now.

Mirth had me smiling to myself as I absentmindedly caressed sugary dirt off of a fully grown candy corn on the cob, just like I had his cheek. A gentle but chilling breeze brought me back to the present, and my smile fell away as I automatically looked towards the nearby main island of Whole Cake. My soft blue antennas and small white wings swayed in the wind as I sighed and stood up to head inside with my now full basket of candy veggies.

Looking up at the pink cotton candy clouds I've grown used to, they were a far cry from the white and pristine ones I grew up on. As a fallen Skypeian, it was still odd for me to be looking up at the clouds rather than being in them. My abnormal antennas gifted me abilities similar to that of a Devil Fruit power, though the sea does not scorn me for mine. With the power to read and gently influence people's emotions, as well as view their memories when I touch them, it was hard to live blissfully unaware of things when they affected someone's emotions. When my emotions rise, so does the sensitivity of my gift, therefore, when going out in public, I wear silk gloves. Katakuri does a lot with helping me manage my emotions in public, but it's nice to have a backup aid. If only he were here now.

By the time I was done cleaning the candy veggies and storing them, my worries had soared to new heights, and I couldn't stand it anymore. Even though it was senseless, I rushed to our room, and quickly put on a yellow tulle, knee length dress while pocketing my white silk gloves before leaving through the back door. The front and sides were guarded by Cracker's biscuit soldiers that he offered for extra protection this morning. Upon opening the door, I was immediately met with the hollow, smiling faces of about ten homies which made me shudder. Not because I was scared of them, but because I knew what kept them alive.

After marrying Katakuri, I eventually confronted him with my experiences of seeing human memories when touching Homies around the kingdom, and he reluctantly explained. The truth drew me into a mournful stupor, heartbroken for all of the stolen life forces constrained to these obedient slaves. This depth of my sorrow had me distancing myself in a separate room for a week until I calmed down. Any person that came near me was overwhelmed with sobs as I was, except Katakuri whose eyes only watered. Katakuri sent away his Homies for me to feel comfortable, and brought in human staff to replace them, but I still avoid Homies as much as I can when we go to other islands.

"Hello, Miss Y/N! Where are you rushing off to in a hurry? Katakuri-Sama appointed us to join you if you decided to leave the grounds!" Spoke one cheerfully. These weren't like normal Homies, as they were made out of Katakuri's mochi, yet the familiar material did nothing to quell my uneasiness. The sentiment he put forth in this change touched me nonetheless since I knew he only wanted to protect me.

I tried not to look into any of their soulless eyes, which made it slightly easier when I quickly reached my bare hands forward to tap two of the Homies and activate their locked away memories. With this trick I learned from Pudding, I made quick work of the rest of them, stunning them into a melancholic stupor as I ran past and into the tree line before one of the biscuit guards could come. A shudder wracked my body as I tried to shake away the memories of those stolen lives plaguing my thoughts now. I ignored it, like Katakuri taught me, and focused on my end goal.

It was a short jog to the edge of the juice sea ebbing on the cake donut shore where my own personal boat sat anchored. With it being relatively small, the force of me hopping onto it jolted it forward a little, and I raised the anchor before starting the engine. My hands twisted on the tiller, (Tiller: The steering stick on an outboard motor engine) making the engine roar up louder as I steered towards the mistily hidden island of Whole Cake. As I flew across the violet juice, my left hand fingered the ever-present mochi bead bracelet around my right wrist that I had forgotten in my emotional frenzy.

"Do you have to go?" The first time I'd ever asked that silly question. My quiet voice matched the dewy expression I wore as I watched my handsomely half naked husband brush his teeth in the bathroom a few feet away. Those entrancing magenta eyes, normally sharp but now softened and puttying even further as they meet mine, traced my partially covered body before sighing and spitting. My antennae matched the striking pink of his eyes.

He finished his bathroom routine before lumbering over to me and taking a knee to nuzzle his face into mine. I gladly welcomed the unabashed affection, softly kissing his parted lips in return. He hadn't even begun to be this close until a year into our marriage which was two months ago, so I welcomed it all. My hands traced the defined yet soft muscles along his chest as I tried to memorize every dip and line his body made in response to years of rigorous training. A shiver slips down my spine as his large teeth gently graze my soft lips engaging his in a deeper kiss. The kiss ends just as I was starting to tug him back into the bed by his neck, his large hands stopping his descent by holding onto the edge of the bed. With a pout, I stubbornly hung onto his neck as he sat back up until one of his large hands gently tried to tug me away.

When I did finally relent, I could see my red-faced husband bashfully averting his eyes, causing me to giggle and lie back down a little more satisfied than before. He used one hand to cover as much of his face as possible, and the other he outstretched towards me. I sat up again to look at his bare hand, about to place my own in it until little balls of mochi started to float up into the air. About twenty of them were created before they spun around and arranged into a bracelet. The newly formed piece of pristine white jewelry fell back into his large hand soundlessly.

I was already in awe of the delicate display of his powers, but upon realizing that the creation was for me, I was hesitant to take it. Stealing a glance up at him, he motioned to the bracelet with his eyes while still sporting a red, yet now uncovered, face. With his extra prompting, I gingerly took the bracelet. The instant I did, I felt an overwhelming wave of love tainted with anxiousness flood my body, making my wings flutter and antennas glow a deep reddish pink. The inevitable smile creeps onto my face, exploding into a wide grin and an unstoppable flurry of giggles. At hearing my unadulterated laughter, Katakuri starts to chuckle with me and leans in to nuzzle his nose against my neck.

"Now you'll always have a piece of me with you, and I'll always feel your heartbeat to know you are well. Perhaps this will bring both of us some peace of mind." He rumbled in my ear before slowly pulling away. This time I don't try to pull him back, but still begrudgingly watch him stand up to his full height. While maintaining eye contact, I put on the bracelet and rub it against my cheek. A thrum of arousal rings from it into my warm cheek, which blossoms a devious smile on my face as my antennae's red overtakes the pink.

"I think this'll do a few more things than that.~"

A particularly rough wave jolts me to the floor of my white boat, making the engine idle and the boat cruise without my steadying hand. Through my wall of worries, I hadn't focused on the bracelet, the window into my partner's soul. Wanting the bracelets to be a two-way street of emotional clarity, I had Katakuri make himself another and infused it with my powers so he could feel my emotions too. Now crouched down in the bottom of the boat, I clutched the bracelet to my chest and breathed in a few calming breaths. Bump. A dash of anxiety, always present despite his cool exterior. Bump Bump. Swirls of skepticism, he's people watching. Ba Dump Dum. My cheeks heat up as the dominating warmth of love spreads through me. Love was the best emotion to feel from him. I used his calm emotions to steady my own but felt bad that he's had to deal with all of my topsy turvy ones, as usual. He and I were complete opposites.

Now with more peace, I returned to the tiller and, with a softer twist, continued my trek towards Whole Cake. The closer I got, the stronger myriad of emotions I could sense from my bracelet. Nervousness is stronger, tense pulses of exploration followed by a ripple of anger. He's using his Observation Haki and what he sees is not good. At this revelation, the moment my boat hits the shore of Whole Cake, I'm up and running towards the looming chateau that stands in the middle of the city.

I can hear a faint rumbling, even from the edge of the city, which makes my stomach turn in an ocean of my worst fears. I can see a giant wedding cake up at the very top where Big Mom always has her tea parties, and it seemed like it was . . . crumbling? Running all the way from the shore to the center of town, I joined the townspeople in staring up at the top of the chateau in horror. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest as feelings of annoyance edging on ire came from Katakuri.

If what I think is happening, is happening, then all the townspeople will soon be in danger. Mama has been raving about that wedding cake ever since she decided to "marry off" Pudding, and it's been in production for weeks now. If Mama doesn't eat that cake, she's going to have hunger pains and won't stop until a new one is remade. Which means I have my work cut out for me. Despite this acceptance of my duties for today, that didn't get rid of the fearful lilac filing my antennae. The townspeople started to murmur nervously to themselves about what was happening, and finally noticed I was among them.

"Lady Y/N! Do you know what is happening?"

"Miss Y/N, please tell us what is happening at Miss Pudding's wedding!" These first outcries were followed by a cacophony of worried voices that flooded my ears. After a few moments of trying to get my bearings, the yelling became too much. The mixture of my heightening panic, the thrum of my husband's own elevated emotions and the frenzy of the growing crowd exhausted me. The clear lilac muddied into brown.

"I. . ." A pulse of simmering anger from my bracelet makes me gasp before I could give the citizens a proper answer. The continual rumbling of the cake chateau made me uneasy, and I'd rather be safe than sorry about the townspeople's safety. Pushing out of the crowd, I ran over to a Homie guard.

"Miss Y/N, is something-?" Before he could finish, I cut him off with a frantic answer.

"We need to evacuate the city, Mama's cake is falling and Katakuri is fighting someone, that can only mean that the Strawhats are up there! It'll only be a matter of time before Mama starts her hunger pain, even if the Strawhats are defeated. We can't let the citizens get in the way. Tell everyone to evacuate as soon as possible!" The guard nodded obediently and ran off to spread the news. I was running in the opposite direction, back towards the chateau, yelling for people to evacuate, and trying to ignore the emotions flooding my senses as my husband expressed his rising anger and frustration.

I knew he should've stayed at home in bed with me this morning.

<コ:彡ミ☆<コ:彡ミ☆ <;コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆

It didn't take long for the townspeople to catch wind of the evacuation warning, and soon the usually bustling capital of Totto Land was desolate. Everyone knew the dangerous nature of Mama's hunger pain rampages, and that drove them to leave as soon as possible. Before I could think of what to do next, a surprising yet fleeting emotion dripped icily into my veins from my husband: fear. It was fleeting, but I've never seen or felt my husband fear anything or anyone, though I didn't have to wait long for the cause of it.

A large explosion sounded off at the base of the whole cake chateau, washing a wave of heat and debris over me as I crouched down and covered my head with my hands. Light purple lit up my face as I pushed my antennae down against my head as well. My heart pounded out of my chest as I stayed down until the wind died. A horrible groaning and cracking noise resounded around me from the chateau, urging me to look up at the damage done.

The entire chateau was falling towards me.

An undeniable fear of my own clawed out of my chest as I stood up and started to sprint away from the falling structure. My lungs struggled to keep up with my frantic breaths as I focused on staying upright and dodging continuously falling debris. As I ran, I tried to look back towards the top of the crashing structure to see if I could spot anyone, but after almost getting crushed and tripping a few times, I decided to focus on my escape first. Despite my best efforts and no matter how hard I ran, the shadow of the chateau never seemed to leave my figure. Hopelessness dragged down my tiring body, painting my antennae a dreary gray.

'I'm not going to make it. Why did I come here? I should've just stayed at home like Katakuri told me to, Katakuri is always right! Stupid, stupid! Now he'll blame himself if I die here! He'll work himself even harder!' Tears began to waver my sight, and stream down my sweaty, dirty cheeks as I kept pushing my legs harder and harder. I could hear the crashing of larger debris behind me, and even though it scared me, I started to slow down until I dropped to my knees. Each breath seemed like it wasn't enough, especially as I kept crying under the looming shadow of the chateau.

Trembling on the ground, I threw my head back to stare up at my inevitable fate, only to face a large chunk of sponge cake falling towards me. Everything seemed to slow down as my wonderful life in the past three years with Katakuri flashed through my mind. I didn't want to die. Didn't want to leave him.

"If you ever need me, just call out my name, and I'll come to you no matter where I am. I will always protect you." Katakuri's promise from all those years ago resounded in my mind.

Clenching my eyes, I let out the loudest yell I could muster.

"KATAKURI, PLEASE PROTECT ME!! I DON'T WANT TO LEAVE YOU!!"

I felt a surprising surge of energy burst through my tired body as I screamed out and waited to either be swept off my feet by my husband or crushed. All I felt was an even greater fatigue. What a pitiful way to die on the Grand Line. 'I'm sorry, Katakuri.' After a few hard beats of my heart pounding against my ribcage, and neither of those things happening, I cracked my eyes open to look at what had happened. It took me a moment to comprehend what I was seeing through bleary eyes, but even when I wiped them what I saw confused me.

The first thing I noticed was white. At a glance, I thought it was the familiar mochi of my husband who came to save me, but realized this was definitely different once my mind cleared. A buzzing bubble surrounded me like a shield, and it was deathly quiet. 'Did someone else make this, or. . . is this me. . ?' Nothing was heard other than my labored breaths. I saw the large piece of sponge cake that had been hurtling towards me moments ago nearby on the ground in smaller pieces. The second thing I noticed was that the entire cake chateau had been turned into real sponge cake, and heavy cream was spilling its way towards me. Not a moment after this fearful realization did my bubble shatter.

All the sound that had been blocked out by it came rushing back all at once. The gushing of heavy cream, settling of debris, groaning from the buildings that were supporting the now sponge cake chateau, and a few pained groans from nearby. Despite all the noise, there was one noise that made my breath hitch as I turned towards it.

The sound of spurs.

I saw my mountain of a husband, Katakuri, running towards me rapidly with Daifuku and Oven close behind.

"Y/N!" He yelled as he got to me, my arms already raised and ready for him to pick me up, which is exactly what he did. Faint yellow relief filled me.

"Katakuri! I'm sorry I left the house, I should have stayed home, but I was worried, and I felt your emotions and, and-" I couldn't even finish my sentence before I was breaking down into tears as all the stuff that had happened so quickly washed over me. Everything was a mess, I was a mess, and I almost died. He held me so close and tight in his large, strong arms, pressing my body into his heaving chest, and head into his scarf. My hands slipped under his scarf so I could wrap my arms around his bare neck and ground myself in his contact. I could feel the fast thumping of his heartbeat against my own pounding chest as he tried to futilely hide the fact that he was shaken up.

No doubt when he heard me scream his name a few moments ago, he looked into the future and saw me about to be crushed by a cake. We both just relished each other's safety for a few moments, his mouth nuzzling its way to my cheek in his scarf. The shakiness of his breath made me whimper and cry a little more. We stayed like this before he gently tugged me away from his comforting body after we had mostly calmed down. His crimson eyes were imperceptibly watery as they searched my face and body for any injuries. Normally furrowed eyebrows were upturned in worry.

"Why are you-? No, first, are you okay? I didn't think I was going to make it in time. I saw the cake, and then a flash of white, I thought-" He abruptly stopped that line of thinking along with his fast breaths that were edging on hyperventilating. He quieted and focused on catching his breath as he studied me. I couldn't look him in the eye for long as guilt wracked my body for making my husband feel so worried about me. A few sniffles are all that sounded from me as I let him cycle through his emotions to calm down. Katakuri saw my reluctance to look at him straight, sighed, and brought me back towards him. My forehead touched his as one of his gloved hands lifted to my chin and redirected my averted gaze up to his worried pools of magenta. There was no anger, just concern and fear, even though he had every right to feel angry with me. This softness was something I only saw when we were alone, and it just broke me again. Tears quickly filled my eyes as I nodded in response to his second question.

"I-I'm fine. I don't know what happened with the- the cake and the forcefield. I'm sorry I left the house, but I was just so worried about you, and I couldn't help myself! And when I got on the island, I heard Mama screaming and you felt angry, and then the cake fell, and I evacuated everyone, but then the chateau fell and-" It was a wonder if he could understand my blubbering as I gestured wildly around us to the mess everywhere, but he let me go on until I ran out of breath. He just stood there, listening, and rubbing his thumb along my cheek to wipe away the tears.

"Anything else, love?"

A blush warmed my cheeks at his soft tone and pet name, but nodded, nonetheless. It wasn't a condescending question, he just wanted to make sure I was getting everything out. Despite causing trouble because I disobeyed him, he still wanted to make sure I was well. Another rumbling hum resonated in his broad chest as he studied my tear-stained face, dirtied yellow dress and flushed face. This softened his gaze even further as he felt regret at my sullied state.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner. I don't know what I would do without you, Y/N, and I would rather not think about it. Although you did disobey me and slipped past the many Homies I had stationed around our home to try to prevent this very event from happening," I winced guiltily under his momentarily scolding gaze, "I am, nonetheless, happy that you came, and are safe. Your kindness knows no bounds, and I feel unworthy of such a display of love, yet I humbly accept it." His last sentence was quieter than the rest of his gentle scolding, still aware of his brothers nearby helping the rest of his siblings up from the rubble.

A wobbly smile tugged at my lips as new tears stung my eyes and I nodded. The warmth of our shared love for each other in this mess transitioned my relieved yellow to a lovingly deep pink.

"You're the one who's kindness is endless. I didn't listen to you about staying home and caused you extra stress. You should be furious with me, but you just care about me being safe. I have no one to blame for my state except myself, Kata, and you know it. None of this is your fault. And of course, you're worthy of my love, we've been over this, silly. You deserve the world, especially with everything you do for your family, and for me. I would do anything to ensure your safety, just as you do for us." I wanted to give him a kiss on the lips, but we were in public, so I just settled for giving him a lingering kiss between his eyebrows. He seemed to relax a little at this gesture, taking my return compliment well. Before either of us could say anything more, a shrill and angered voice called out for my darling love.

"Big brother Katakuri! What are we going to do about this mess, and all the traitors and intruders?! We have no time to just stand around!" It was Mont d'Or screaming and being followed by what looked like a giant chicken man in a familiar pink suit, Brulee, Compote and a few other higher ranking Charlotte siblings. Katakuri's tender face of worry hardened back to his serious one, which saddened me that our moment was already over. Duty calls, though, and I was used to it by now.

Katakuri made no move to put me down yet, so I just let out a soft sigh and leaned into his scarf to rest for a little. He finally turned around to face his oncoming siblings, and a few were surprised to see me in his hold. The first person to speak up about it was Brulee who walked forward with concern written all over her long face.

"Y/N-nii! What are you doing here? You look a mess, are you okay?" Everyone expressed different levels of concern over my state, but before I could say anything for myself, Katakuri spoke up for me.

"She was worried about Pudding's wedding, so she came to make sure everything was fine, but got a little caught up in some of the chateau's destruction. She's fine now." Katakuri's firm voice left no more room for questions, so everyone accepted this answer. I didn't look at anyone in particular, opting to just stay snuggled in the soft fabric of my husband's scarf.

Everyone started to talk about the attacks on the chateau, but I was only partially listening. I was staring absently at the ground, in thought, when a long pink and black, twisted lollipop invaded my vision. I perked up a little at the offering, looking past it to a smiling Perospero who gave me a little wink when my gaze fully met his. With a little giggle, I took the treat and began to suck on it as I settled back against Katakuri. He didn't say anything about it, but I could feel his cheeks shift under his scarf in a smile which had me glancing up at him with a small smile of my own.

Once again, our moment was broken by someone yelling, but this time it was Daifuku directing troops. From what I had heard snippets of, the explosion on the chateau was still unknown, the bird man was somehow Tamago based on how he was talking, Strawhat Luffy and his allies had caused a lot of damage, Jinbei announced his resignation to join the Strawhats and Capone Bege had betrayed us to help the Strawhats assassinate Big Mom. The last piece of information was a disappointment but not a surprise. Katakuri had always had his suspicions on Bege's loyalty. Jinbei, though, was more saddening.

Ever since Whitebeard died, he was quick to ally with Big Mom to protect Fishman Island from pirates. He only visited the chateau when Big Mom called him, and rarely came to Komugi Island unless it had something to do with Katakuri. Nevertheless, the times he accepted my invitation to tea when he was around, he was kind, respectful and a joyful company to have. He didn't disclose any sensitive information outside of personal information, but I'm sure he was being reasonably cautious since I was married to Katakuri. One might think he was just nice to me because of my relations to one of Big Mom's highest-ranking members, but I like to think he genuinely enjoyed our time together as I did.

"Brulee, come with me. I'm going after Strawhat." Katakuri demanded, and as Brulee agreed and started to rant about what they put her through, I could feel Katakuri's anger rising high as he listened to his sister. The development made me a little nervous because the higher strung his emotions were in a fight, the more likely he was to slip up.

"I will personally make sure he is stopped. Not only has he destroyed our kingdom, put the family in imminent danger and tried to assassinate Mama, but", his grip tightened on me, "he almost caused serious harm to my wife. I must stop him here before he becomes a bigger threat to Mama later on." His protectiveness over everyone, especially me, had me blushing as butterflies tickled my stomach. Though, the thought of him getting hurt on our behalf churned my stomach over the butterflies.

This pirate had managed this much damage, even if he did have some powerful allies to aid him. Either he was as strong as his bounty suggested, or this was all pure luck. Even if Strawhat Luffy lived up to his current bounty, it was still only half of Katakuri's which totaled in at a billion berries. I had done enough doubting of him today, so I tried to quell the growing uneasiness that colored my antennae a lime green.

Just as Katakuri prepared to put me down to leave with Brulee, a loud rumbling and sounds of massive destruction caught everyone's attention. Soon thereafter, Smoothie was running towards us, urging us to do the same. If she was this frantic, that could only mean one thing: Mama's hunger pains had started.

<コ:彡ミ☆<コ:彡ミ☆ <;コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆

Wah!~ Okay, sooo this turned into something WAY longer than I expected it to be, so I split it up!~ The scene I started this story in mind with can be reached in two parts.~ The second part is mostly done already, but now I kind of want to have another part for just pure fluff and maybe a little somethingggggg, I don't know!~ I'll decide when I get the planned parts out and see how they do and how I feel, I suppose.~ Take care, dearies!~

Part 1 - -> Part 2 - -> Part 3

#charlotte katakuri #katakuri #one piece #mochi man #whole cake island #wci #katakuri x reader #x reader #female reader #knacks writes

133 notes · View notes

neonscandal · 11 months ago

Note

some questions about jujutsu I would appreciate it if you could answer me. 1. do you think megumi and itadori are a comparison to geto and gojo? 2. What do you find most tragic about geto and gojo's relationship? 3.if geto didn't exist, who would you ship gojo with? ps; I would ship toji and gojo.

Answering these out of order to hide spoilers!

3. If Geto didn't exist, I would ship Gojo with Nanami. Nanami would be bothered 600% of the time.

2.Most tragic is the fact that, while Gojo always looked at Geto's soul and accepted him unconditionally, Geto thought their relationship was over the moment he chose to leave Jujutsu High and they never reconciled this disparity while living. If you want an exhaustive list of the things that rot my brain and prevent me from remembering basic things like my childhood and the Pythagorean theorem, please, feel free to read this recently updated and ongoing list. 😭

Lastly, yes, I think ItaFushi are meant to be a parallel to SatoSugu. See below for why!

⚠️ Spoiler Warning through JJK chapter 247.

The comparison isn't perfect but I don't know that it's meant to be.

I feel like I reference Naruto a lot for having not seen it but I'm pretty sure it's a solid example of the generational failures of the Uchiha clans and the Hidden Leaf Village as overcome by Sasuke and Naruto, respectively.

I think that JJK could be a circular story (check out the Rick & Morty progression, in particular) and that SatoSugu and ItaFushi seem to run as parallels. To simplify, we'll break it up by the OG for parallels:

SATORU

and Megumi (he got blue eyes when he's supposed to have green.. 💎👄💎)

Born of Jujutsu royalty with a familial technique

Familial technique damns them to a burden of responsibility. Gojo became the head of the Gojo clan, Megumi is bought and sold but effectively abdicates his place with the Zenin

When given the chance, relents to leverage the value of his cursed technique to protect others that they deem deserving. Gojo protects Megumi, Yuta and Yuji; Megumi protects Tsumiki and later, Yuji.

In spite of the above, will execute their responsibilities of a sorcerer but will also pick and choose if they will do something outside of that obligation. Think back to Megumi's moral judgement when it came to those in the detention center and Gojo's willingness to act outside of direct orders because... he could.

Just leaving the visual evidence of these little weirdos

and Yuji

The Sun characters but not without shadow.

Blessed births, even though Yuji's was... untraditional, it forged him as a powerful vessel with inhuman strength without a heavenly restriction.

Anomalous strength. Gojo for Six Eyes and Limitless which haven't been seen together in one user in over 100 years. Yuji is able to produce Black Flashes at will and at a rate which is canonically uncommon.

Experienced death and rebirth which brought about change in them. Gojo found enlightenment; Yuji, while in hiding, experienced loss, the tragedy of which marked him noticeably.

They both know the alienation of greatness. Both undergo power ups shattering the ceiling of their previously understood power thresholds and go beyond the comprehension or without the knowledge of their counterparts. Gojo, I think, knew that it would foundationally upset something between he and Geto. Yuji probably just thinks he is getting acclimated to the new world he finds himself within and doesn't realize how insane his glow up has been.

Guilt for not being able to save someone "close to them". Gojo, obviously, with Geto and Yuji with Junpei, initially, but that list has grown. Exponentially.

SUGURU

and Megumi

The Moon characters but they have something worth fighting for that gives them an air of light.

Both believe in and will act on behalf of the weak. Geto believes the strong should protect the weak and keep the strong in check. Megumi believes that if someone cannot observe the basic tenet of don't kill me, I won't kill you, he should exact punishment whether the person infringed on this basic law with him or not.

Despite their code, they still develop or have a discerning application of their morals.

But what happens when that morality is tested? Geto realizes the weak are capable of harm when he discovers the abuse of Nanako and Himiko. Megumi, if he hasn't already, will eventually come to understand that saving Yuji came at the cost of countless lives, including that of Tsumiki, in a way, even if she died by his own hand.

Know intimately the loss of someone they were close with only to find that person returned to them.. but different.

Feeling left behind by the power ups of their counterparts, they are left to their own devices. Notably, Geto spirals into depression and PTSD, Megumi, citing the difference, asks Gojo for additional lessons so he doesn't fall behind.

Doomed by the narrative? or at least by their power. Kenjaku covets Geto's body for the hold it has over Gojo and, possibly, the cursed technique that enabled him to espouse Mahito and Tengen's techniques. Sukuna covets Megumi for Ten Shadows.

Subsequently, both are possessed by something that easily outclasses them but they still are able to rebel when fighting against their counterparts. Geto's corpse strangles Kenjaku in Shibuya; Megumi manipulates how much cursed energy is output when Sukuna fights against Yuji.

Both of them recognize that, despite their counterpart's strength, they are still deserving of concern and worry. This is likely informed by the knowledge of their own weakness and inability to protect.

and Yuji

Outsiders to jujutsu society

Get their power/strength from ingesting something unholy; curses or cursed relics. Either way, both seem to beg the question of how long one can you these things before it poisons something within you?

Earnestly want to help people with a martyr mentality. The idea being, if I am the only one with this power then it's my responsibility to do something; Geto with his role as a sorcerer and Yuji as the only person who can consume Sukuna

Subsequently damned by this noble desire. Geto finds that the sacrifice is no longer palatable after the sacrifices of Riko and Haibara and the abuse of Nanako and Himiko. Yuji experiences survivors' guilt for every slight Sukuna is able to inflict while he continues to live.

A pattern of failure to protect (Riko and Junpei) followed by the loss of a companion (Haibara and Nanami, and what a way for their deaths to mirror one another...) as an impetus for great change in their characters.

The wealth of their goodness has the potential to cause just as big a vacuum of negativity when they break. Arguably this is what pushes the invisible hand that guides the events that radicalizes Geto and informs Mahito's insistence to break Yuji's soul.

Speaking of souls - this idea of their soul's in particularly. Gojo seeing and recognizing Geto's. Mahito feeling the edge of Yuji/Sukuna's soul. We see that Sukuna can aim attacks at Megumi's soul but... why did the goodness in Geto's persist for Gojo to love him unconditionally? How did Yuji's soul withstand external attacks from Mahito and internal attacks from Sukuna?

Where SatoSugu's fatal flaw was hubris, we don't see that with ItaFushi and that, perhaps, is the biggest indication that they're correcting the faults of their forebears while also suffering the repercussions of their failure.

Gege Akutami could absolutely have the whole story end in flames, don't get me wrong. I would 10,000% be invested to the very last page. There's no guarantee that this is a circular story, that any of these characters find peace or that any of them even survive but I can't help but see the similarities, at least as far these four are concerned.

54 notes · View notes

asha-mage · 1 year ago

Note

Mat/Rand. Prince

[Send me a character or pairing, and a one word prompt, and I'll write you a drabble!]

There is a small grassy glade in the Waterwood, nestled between two oddly shaped boulders that at one point in history, might have been something more. The huge willows of the Waterwood, with their spreading branches and tangling winding roots flank it on all sides and make the place almost invisible, if you do not know the trick of finding the path.

Rand can no longer remember if he or Mat was the first to discover it- the first to wander into that hidden place, always a little shadowy and damp with dew, even at mid noon in summer. But he knows that it was just their place: for the two of them to lay back in the grass and reach up for the branches, to laugh and joke and share secrets together. To talk of the adventures they would have when they where big enough to no longer be told no but their families or the Wisdom, or the Women’s Circle.

It wasn’t like the pond where they would go sometimes, with Perrin and Egwene to swim in the boiling heat of summer. Or like the trips down to idle by the river with other village youths. Something unspoken held it just between them, as if sharing knowledge of it would shatter something fragile and brittle and shinning kept there, between their laughs and games of make-believe.

Once, when they where eight, Mat had made a crown. With his clumsy fingers he had woven starburst and morning glory with loose garlands from the willows, twinning them around broken branches and loose sticks until he had made a rough ring of white and gold and bright orange.

He had bowed elaborately when he was done and presented the crown to Rand with a flourish.

“My prince.” Mat had said with exaggerated deference spoiled only a little by the fox like grin on lips. Rand couldn’t help but laugh as he had taken it and placed it onto his head. He had known it would look foolish, but something had shinned in Mat’s eyes as Rand had fixed it in place, something for which Rand had no name at the time.

“And what am I prince of exactly?” Rand had teased when the crown was settled. “Where is my kingdom?”

“You are standing in it!” Mat had laughed and gestured at the glade. “Prince of the hidden grove! Lord of the Waterwood, etc etc.”

Rand had smirked back. “Master of all the castles in the air? And served by soldiers armored in gossamer steel?” He teased. “And who is my general then? A puppet made of glass?”

Mat had whooped but shaken his head, plucking up another stick to hold like a General’s rod. “No puppets for the Prince of the Morning. I am your general, leader of your loyal hawks, and dogs and foxes. All the carrion eaters, all the foul things can oppose you if they wish-“ He winked. “I will drive them all back with sword and shield and catapult. Let the beetles and the snakes, the rats and the ravens try. I will chase them all away from you, Highness.”

He had said it with such solemnity, such stiff lipped strength that Rand couldn’t help but burst into laughter, and Mat had followed suit soon after. They had ended up laying on their backs staring at the sky and joking about the campaigns they would wage, and the laws they would enact in their new realm (beginning with no bed times of course, and descending in importance from there).

At some point Mat’s hand had found it’s way into Rand’s, and stayed there, until it was to late for them to remain, and they had no choice but to head back to the village.

My general of the hawks and the dogs and the foxes. Rand thought as he watched Mat ride ahead of him. That was years ago no, more then a decade gone. All around them, the crowds of Cairhien citizens cheered and sang, trying to press in on Rand’s small party, held back by the Maidens and the Tearians alike.

And Mat rode ahead, not looking back. Afraid to even stare into Rand’s eyes for to long. Lieutenants and officers from the Band of the Red Hand surrounded him on all sides, and more soldiers marched, rank on rank ahead of them, basking in the accolades of their victory.

The Band of the Red Hand. Not the Band of the Dragon, or the Legion of Al’Thor. The Band of the Red Hand, named for a long dead army of mercenaries, and likely to be just the same.

Rand felt his eyes sweep up to the spires of the Sun Palace in the distance. He was more then any Prince now, more then any King, probably more even then long dead Artur Hawkwing. His name would be writ across history in fire, and their where thousands ready to march at his word, to die for him.

He felt the never healing wound in his side throb in dull agony.

His eyes sank back to Mat, to the sight of the nape of his neck, just visible above the collar of his coat.

And I would trade it all, to be in our grove again. I would give it all away for our castles in the air, for our army of hawks and dogs and foxes.

Better to be a prince with a flower crown, then the Dragon Reborn. Better by miles.

#WoT #Wheel of Time #WoT Book Spoilers #TFOH Spoilers #Rand al'thor #Mat Cauthon #Cauthor #Rat #WoT Fanfic #WoT On Prime #Wheel of Time on Prime #Rand x Mat #Drabble Challenge

65 notes · View notes

thecoolerliauditore · 2 months ago

Note

Your post abt gender presentation as part of character growth is soooo. To me, Joel embracing his femininity is so much. He puts up a giant facade of bravado and strength, he is tall and muscular and strong. Yet if there is an occasion for him to wear a dress he embraces it. Would he need to be this aggressive in life if he was born a girl? A girl doesn't need to be tall and strong, he'd been taught.

Joel likes being a man. But there is an unspoken serenity in femininity in his eyes. Maybe he can indulge, if just for a few hours hidden behind the facade of a joke.

A man wearing a dress is funny, right?

... right?

Sometimes a joke is just so... funny... you can't help but cry.

Anon there are some asks that like evoke a emotional reaction from me that I could swear are the result of momentary possession because I usually do not get the butterflies from posts like this but smth about the timing of this being sent mid joel/scott essay + me having no internet and rewatching my downloaded joel 3L episodes over and over did. something to me.

This post got really away from me sorry. the disease got me. (no really I am still sick and brainfogged please forgive me)

But yes this is so true so true anon. He's so verbal about it all too. handsome, strong, muscular, tall, etc etc. Guy who totally isn't trying to convince himself of his own lies.

I've always liked looking at empires as a sorta vague symbolic representation of the characters' backstories and I have had. So many thoughts about Joel being a prince (specifically one that gets wordlessly hitched to a queen) and a big, tall, manly God. Both are very classic symbols of (forgive me but I really do not know what other term would work) peak masculinity. Of course he would portray himself that way.

And Joel is powerful, he's scary and he revels that people see him that way. But Joel is only human and he can't keep up the facade forever. He spends so much of the death games feeling small and scared. And he hates it so much, he hates feeling emasculated so much that he ends up letting it kill him in LimL in his panic.

His relationship with his own sense of masculinity has inspired like. pretty much all of my Joel art now that I think about it alongside the homophobic gay thing. Most relevantly that wedding dress one. I've always headcanoned him as growing his hair out in HC10 where he feels safe enough to start exploring that side of himself (although he still won't admit it -- if you ask him he'll just make up some excuse about how he can't be bothered).

A big part of that i/me/myself animatic was me thinking about how both him and Scott are the types to think that their lives could be so much simpler if they were born girls, but in more of that misguided homophobic/softcore misogynistic way than a transfem way (that being said I'm like. lowkey shocked I haven't ran into any transfem joel or transfem scott in the wild. I've had bouts of imagining both as well as transmasc joel but I don't think I have anything interesting enough in my head to post).

Very dubious sourcing of headcanons occurring here but I really do think about that one Guess the Build episode where he makes a generic wedding scene and randomly remarks that it looks like him and Jimmy getting married, with himself wearing the dress. Sighs. Whatever, man.

I do really. really like the idea of him starting small with the femininity. I think he's at a stage where he's willing to at least give it a try. I haven't quite gotten ill enough about the WL dynamics to come up with making shit up headcanons but idk maybe his hair is long enough at this point that it gets in his face alot and Gem gets annoyed with his constant complaining and teaches him to braid it. Wait fuck new headcanon unlocked drawing him with a little baby braid from now on.

Also this might be more the gay thing than the gender thing but I'd like to think he becomes more comfortable with how small he is compared to other guys, and his thing for taller men like Etho and Jimmy. Getting more accustomed to physical affection and having the association with his size slowly turn from fear of being overpowered or humiliated to something much softer and warmer.

I love how you use the word "mock" anon because it really is. like that. It's all a joke. A man being gay or effeminate, that's worthy of mockery, of humiliation to Joel. He's internalized these beliefs and as a consequence he believes he will be subjected to that if he lets himself slip into being those things. So he has to keep mocking men like himself, keep insisting it's all stupid and gross, but at the same time doing that is the only time he gets to even pretend to experience expressing those parts of himself.

Maybe a bit of a side note but I've had this idea in my head for ages of like. This but Joel ends up just deciding fuck it one day and trying to feminize himself super hard to attract the men he likes (which is not quite right tm either he's maybe pushing his own boundaries a little too hard and it's uncomfortable but he feels like he has to do this). I usually imagine Jimmy but this could very much be Etho too.

They go on a little date and Jimmy literally could not give less of a fuckk. He's like oh Joel's experimenting, cool. and Joel gets all huffy about the lack of reaction and demands to know if Jimmy thinks this new version of him is pretty, to which Jimmy just says some shit like "yeah but you were always pretty" and Joel explodes on the spot and dies.

#asks #in the same way gem overperforms femininity joel overperforms masculinity. i think #it's all in the insecurities #in case anyone's wondering: transmasc joel was something i entertained back when the binder thing happened #and all i really thought about was that he'd be a gatekeeper and use the word trender unironically #and he's still homophobic but this time with dysphoria added in

10 notes · View notes

thewalkingwillowtree · 1 year ago

Text

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 23.

Xilä is my own creation.

Part 9 - Delicious

A squeal escaped Xilä when she was suddenly lifted from Neteyam’s lap. He sat her high up on his chest when he laid stretched out on his back.

“Okay?” he asked, checking in.

She nodded with a little blush. It was one thing to be naked in front of him, but she was practically splayed right now- this was up close and personal.

Soothing the skin of her outer thighs, he openly stared at the glistening between her legs- gold eyes darkening, nostrils flaring, lips licking in anticipation.

“Do you even know how pretty you are?” he rasped, almost as if in a daze.

Xi smothered a laugh. She’d never heard of one’s intimates called pretty before.

“Oh you think that’s funny? I’m completely serious, you know?” he teased with a low growl, leaning up to nip the flesh of her inner thigh.

She hissed, and choked on a laugh.

“Come’re.”

His large palms cupped her butt and pulled her even closer to him so that her spread knees landed on the grass on either side of his face- her core a mere inches away from his mouth.

She felt slightly awkward. “Um, what do I do?” she asked hesitantly.

“Nothing. You just enjoy it and if you’re not, we’ll stop,” he said, linking their tails together to give her some assurance.

When he spoke, puffs of air hit her directly, making her squirm a bit. “Oh, um…Alright.”

A shiver rocked her when he stared into her eyes and gave her a comforting kiss right against her soaked lips.

He eased her into it with soft pecks and featherlight brushes of his lips. When she made no complaints he took it up a notch with little licks and grazes of his teeth.

Neteyam groaned sinfully, because she was honestly downright delicious. “Fucking hell baby,” he mumbled, before instantly going in for more.

At first, she simply stared down at the arousing sight of him between her legs while she got used to the new position and the sensation of his mouth doing wicked wicked things to her. But then her eyes were shutting closed and she was quickly and eagerly rocking in time with his ministrations.

His pattern soon changed from gentle and slow to fast and deliberate. The flat of his tongue dragged along her slit over and over before he began to swirl, suck and playful nip her at hidden nub.

One large hand curled to fasten on her hip, holding her firm to his mouth, the other sailing up to play with her pretty nipples.

A loud arousing moan filled the air. Xilä arched, head lolling back and forth as her body rocked with pleasure.

He was enjoying himself too it seemed- humming and smiling as he ate her out like a starved man, practically holding her up as she shook above him.

Neteyam’s tongue was dangerous. A weapon, she thought. She panted and whined as she felt herself slowly climbing, getting closer and closer to the brink.

With quick success he had her screaming and moaning out loud as if they were the only two people in existence.

“Oh Great Mother!” she shouted when he sucked hard on her clit. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!”

She fell back, palms flat on his abs to help hold herself up as she ground against his mouth.

His laughter at her use of human swears and curses, sent a rippling vibration through her.

“‘Teyam! I’m going to- !”

Eyes squeezed shut and mouth wide open, Xilä came with a cry. Her body convulsed and eardrums went muffled as she shattered above him.

But her betrothed had no intention of stopping though. Not giving her a moment to recover, he was continuing his feast with vigor, desperate for even more.

Xilä jerked in his hold in shock, hips twitching to get away from the overstimulation.

“Teya-mmm, wait wait- oh FUCK!” she screamed as his tongue made its way deep inside of her- the warm, wet appendage vigorously working her.

Neteyam was ruthless. Even when she buckled, unable to hold herself up any longer- he still kept firm grips, speeding up his tongue even faster.

“Oh- mmm. Please- ple-” she begged and babbled incoherently, panting as her body moved on its own accord- hips furiously rotating and grinding in time with the rhythm of his unruly tongue.

Eyes rolling and brain short circuiting from sheer pleasure, she unconsciously alternated between biting her lip and crying out loud with her jaw unhinged.

The moment the tip of his tail made contact with her swollen bud, the same time he twisted a nipple- she exploded.

Her screams echoed around their hideaway and Xilä sobbed as a powerful orgasm rocked her body, causing tears to leak from the corners of her eyes while she spasmed uncontrollably.

Neteyam greedily lapped and licked, helping her through the waves while she withered in his strong grips.

When she seemed to have calmed, he sat up and gently eased her down to the ground between his propped up legs. Her own legs splayed out behind him, thighs on both sides of his hips- completely limp.

Xi hid her face behind her palms with a little mewl when his tented front accidentally brushed her swollen center. She was still overly sensitive and experiencing tiny aftershocks.

“When we move in together, we're going to have to get to a place far from our families…and probably anybody else,” Neteyam thought out loud as he observed her, massaging her aching thighs with a stupid proud grin on his face.

“Mm-Why?” she asked, a bit muffled, from behind her hands as she tried to catch her breath.

“You’re a screamer, baby. I have to practically gag you whenever we’re at your place, remember? I’d be a dead man if I didn’t- Jxo would kill me in a heartbeat.”

Her hands fell away, gaze locking with his. He smirked, enjoying the shifting expressions crossing her face- she was too fucking cute, he thought.

“I- well..” she was clearly embarrassed.

He laughed. “It’s a good thing Xi, I like that about you. See I don’t even need to ask you if you enjoyed just now....your loudness told me everything.” He bit his lip apprehensively. “You did enjoy it, right? You weren’t faking…right?”

Xi laughed so hard she snorted, wincing slightly when her movement caused their fronts to brush again. “I was not faking no, I thoroughly did enjoy it, yes,” she said grinning. “Your face is a mess though, ‘Teyam.”

His own grin shone through as he proudly wiped at the slick shining on the skin of his nose, cheeks, jaw and chin, licking the remnants from around his lips.

“Where’d you get that sudden potty mouth from sweetheart?” he taunted in retaliation to her smartass retort- she had sure cursed a whole lot while he ate her out.

“Ask your tongue,” she sassed in response, causing him to cackle again.

“Oh just for that I’m going to make you come again, right now. No more rest for you Miss. Sass.”

They both moaned lowly when he suddenly tugged her hips forward to roll his bulge along her slit.

“Teyam,” she purred.

“Feels good, sweetheart?” he asked in a strained tone, speeding up the rocking- the friction causing him to groan.

“So gooood,” she sighed out, enjoying the look on his face as he used her to his liking.

Lifting her hips slightly to get a better angle, she was practically his pleasure toy. He worked her up and down the length of his shaft through his now soaked loincloth.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

Eyes darkening dangerously, he stared at the sight of them rubbing together before trailing up the length body to find her gaze. “Please Xi,” he asked hoarsely.

He was holding back she realized, he looked somewhat insane- as if he were about to snap.

She reached a hand out for him and in one swoop she was in his arms, wrist linking behind his neck for balance. Xi cursed under her breath when the new angle cause him to rub directly against her clit.

“Teyam,” she called, cupping his face as he continued their rhythm. “Do what you need to do okay?”

“Are you sure?” he rasped.

“Yes,” she whispered against his lips.

With an animalistic growl he was leaning her backwards and bending forward to suck a nipple into his mouth. One of his hands reached down to release the cords on his loincloth and toss the material away.

Xi wanted nothing more than to pushed him back and stare at his bare form all day, but he was in control right now.

“Ah- fuck,” she hissed when he bit her breast a little to hard. All was forgotten however when he was suddenly rubbing her directly along his velvety, bare shaft. “Oh Eywa!” she mewled.

“Fuck Xilä,” he groaned, burying his face in her neck as he worked her hips against his.

He felt hard, thick and smooth as he dragged his ridiculous length along her slit with deep strokes, from base to tip.

Xilä clung to him in desperation. She tried her best to catch a glimpse of the squelching mess between them, she could feel him smearing droplets of his seed.

Neteyam had tried his best to hold out as long as he could- he really did, but it was fucking difficult. Dragging her in for a biting kiss, his rhythm became erratic as he spiraled.

“Shit, I’m coming,” he groaned.

“Me to,” she panted, puffs of air hitting his lips.

They both came with cries of, “Oh God! Oh fucking hell Xilä!”

And, “Neteyam! Oh shit, shit, shit!”

Falling back and splayed out on the grass as they caught their breaths, they both grinned with little giggles of laughter, staring into each other’s eyes.

It was obvious they had thoroughly enjoyed themselves, their matching grins seemed almost permanent.

Xilä’s hand accidentally brushed the splatter of come on her stomach. Leaning up on an arm, she swirled her pointer finger through the mess in fascination.

Popping it in to her mouth, her tail did it’s usual happy wag whenever she had something yummy.

Neteyam gawked when she suddenly began to wipe and suck, more of his seed. Humming as if she were having the tastiest meal.

She froze with a finger in her mouth when she caught his stare. “What?” she mumbled, turning shy.

He shook his head with a wild smile. “Having a good time there?” he teased.

She blushed but rolled her eyes fondly. “I like it. Can I taste it from there next time?” she asked frankly, gesturing to his shaft.

His jaw dropped a little and he felt himself twitching at the thought. “Um, sure. If you want to.”

“I want to,” she said eagerly. “And can I try the hand job too?”

That had Neteyam choking on his saliva. He sat up and stared down at her.

“Xi…baby, please don’t take this the wrong way, I’m just being curious….but ah- have you been with someone before? Maybe back at Li’ona?”

She grinned. He looked a little jealous right now honestly. “Are you wondering why I know what a hand job is?”

He looked away with slightly purple tinged cheeks. “Maybe,” he said simply.

She sat up and straddled a propped up thick thigh. “It’s only ever been you, ‘Teyam,” she said, cupping his jaw. “I asked D’avi to educate me on a few things when we’d been fooling around for a while.”

“Oh. You can ask me from now on alright? I like it when you do,” he admitted honestly.

“Okay,” she agreed, leaning in to accept his peck.

“We are definitely going to have to clean up before heading back. Sweetheart, you reek of me,” he grinned, sniffing at her neck before making her squeal when he playfully bit her.

When Neteyam and Xi returned to Camp later that afternoon, he first made his way to the training grounds to check in on his trainee warriors.

After wrapping up a few more of his responsibilities, he popped home to use the private spring behind their tent, happy no one was home at the time to smell him.

A few of his team members had given him odd looks during his short meeting with them. He knew he still had Xi’s sweet scent all over him.

Grinning like an idiot when his mind wandered to his pretty wife to be as he cleaned up, he remembered their time spent together that day. They had used the little pool of water to somewhat clean up after a few more rounds of orgasms. Suffice to say it wasn’t enough.

He was truly the luckiest man alive he thought.

Neteyam redressed in only a clean loincloth rather than all his other articles, he’d be going straight to Xi’s later on anyway.

When he entered the main room again, he noticed his mother and youngest sister were home now. They were giggling and looked to be enjoying themselves as they played with a few of Tuk’s dolls.

“Tuk,” he called, squeezing water from his hair with a clean drying cloth towel.

The little one turned her back on him, dropping the doll she’d been playing with to fold her arms with a grumpy pout.

Shit, she was still mad at him.

His mother shot him a look from her relaxed position. Looks like this was his battle to fight.

“Tuktirey,” he tried again, crouching to her level. “I’m sorry baby sis, I was a real jerk this morning and you have every right to be mad……I promise I’ll make it up to you, however you like.”

She side eyed him, peaking in interest. “You have to say you’re sorry again,” she said with a sudden fiery glare.

“I’m really really really sorry, Tuk,” he said earnestly.

“And you have to take me for a ride on Buddy,” she continued.

“Done. Deal,” he agreed, reaching out to shake on it, but she ignored his outstretched arm.

“My friend Täylley wants a ride too,” she bartered. “And we want tricks…not a smooth, careful ride.”

He hid his pained sigh. “One trick only.”

“Five,” she frowned.

“One.”

“Four.”

“One, Tuk.”

“Two?”

“Fine, two and no more. Now come on, let’s shake on it.”

She grinned and jumped up to leap into his arms instead.

Neytiri smiled fondly at her children, she enjoyed moments like these. Neteyam shot her an apologetic expression over Tuk’s head and she nodded to let him know it was fine and that all was forgiven.

“Hey mom, where’s dad at?” he asked as Tuk settled comfortably in his lap, shoving a doll in his hand with the intention for them to play.

“He is meeting with the council. They are reviewing the extension plans again.”

Before he could respond however, Tuk was quickly capturing his attention again.

“Here Teyam, I’m the mommy and you're the baby. You have to pretend to be sick so Tsahìk can come and heal you. Mommy, you be Tsahìk this time,” the six year old said quite bossily as she swapped and handed out the dolls accordingly.

The conference tent was probably the grandest one in all of the others of their village- including the Sully’s home. Its canvased exterior was a deep blood red, carefully dyed and woven by a team of the clan’s best weavers and seamstresses.

Neteyam stared at it as he stayed hidden in the shadows of the night. He was patiently waiting for all the council members to trickle out. He knew his father always stayed behind to review his notes, or simply contemplate- take a break away from everything.

The Olo'eyktan and the council utilized the tent on a daily basis, and so the interior was decorated just as grand as the outside. It was one massive room unlike other tents which were usually sectioned off into smaller rooms.

Jake had had a well crafted, massive, high table built and installed in the center, which was surrounded by wooden chairs with upholstered leather seats and backs. It had taken the other members some getting used to at first, but they quickly adapted to the use of high chairs.

The room was well lit and tastefully decorated. Maps, plans, holographic tablets, little bowls of nuts, seeds and dried fruit, all littered the surface of the table.

Jake Sully sat at the head of the oval shaped table, peering over what looked like blueprints with a frown on his face.

Knocking on a wooden beam, Neteyam announced his presence. “Sir.”

“Hey,” his father greeted, eyes flickering to give him a once over. “You alright? Gwuyle said you had an emergency this morning.”

“Hm? Oh yeah, right. It’s all sorted,” Neteyam assured, momentarily forgetting he’d left in the middle of a team review.

Jake shot him a knowing look, tinged with amusement. “Xilä’s, okay?”

Brain short circuiting for a second Neteyam huffed a little breath of air and rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. “She is, yes. How’d you know?”

His father simply shrugged. “I have eyes, son.”

Neteyam made his way over and took the seat adjacent to Jake. “She’s actually why I’m here. I- um. I wanted you to be the first to know but ah- I’ve made my decision, Sir,” he revealed, heart thumping in anticipation of his father’s response.

Jake, understanding his words, didn’t seem shocked at all. If anything he simply asked, “Does she make you happy?”

“Unbelievably,” Neteyam replied with a little laugh.

“And you love each other? You’re both sure about this step?”

“Yes,” he said without pause.

A smile broke out on the Olo'eyktan’s face. “Then that’s all that matters.”

“That’s it? And…you’re fine with who I chose?”

“It’s not my choice son, it’s yours, but if you’re asking if I approve, then hell yeah. Xi will be happily welcomed in our family. I like her. I like her for you, honestly.”

“Yeah?” Neteyam asked with his own growing grin to match his father's. It turned into a frown just as quickly however. “Dad. I’m a little worried about T'shteyo, though.”

“What about him? This is good. If it weren’t for Xilä still being tied to him, I’d have had his ass kicked out of here a long time ago,” Jake said in frustration.

“He is still acting out?” Neteyam frowned. He had been avoiding the man like the plague, purposely staying out of any gossip topics surrounding him too.

“Acting out is a joke. The asshole keeps picking fights for no goddamn reason and he’s stirring up shit with some of the unmated women. How they could possibly sleep with a man like him baffles me….I want him gone.”

Jake took a sip of the fermented fruit wine he usually kept stashed before offering some to his son. “When are you and Xi thinking of completing the bonding ceremony?”

“Soon,” Neteyam responded. “I want her to focus on completing her rites first.”

Jake nodded in agreement.

“Sir, I don’t want this getting back to T'shteyo just yet. He’s going to know he’s about to lose the only thing keeping him here still and I don’t need him lashing out or trying to get to Xi……I need your permission to bypass the rules of getting his approval. I’m going to still have to ask Jxo and Sal of course, but- bindingly, she’s still his daughter.”

Jake thought for a couple of seconds. “I don’t see why not. It’s fine with me. We’ll take it to the council under an oath of secrecy until then and we’ll just have to make sure both families keep their mouths shut.”

Neteyam smiled in relief. “I appreciate your help in all of this. Really, dad.”

“Of course....Neteyam I am so happy for you, son…God, look at you, you’re all grown up,” he said, staring at his son in slight disbelief. “.....Shit, you’re going to me all emotional now.”

They both laughed at that, shaking their heads at Jake’s theatrics.

“Just wait till your mother finds out, fair warning.”

Neteyam groaned as he slumped back in his seat, palm falling over his eyes. “Oh Eywa, she’s not the only one I’m worried about. Between grandmother, Salveen, D’avi and Kiri, I’m going to have a fucking riot on my hands. Oh God and then there’s Tuk.”

“Yeah I don’t envy you right now,” his father joked, allowing him his slip of a curse word.

Getting to his feet, he said, “Alright I’m going to head out. Don’t stay too late, you know mom will come get you.”

“Yeah yeah and don’t come crying to me when Jxo tries to kill you,” Jake taunted, causing his son to freeze. “Oh you didn’t think I’d notice you missing from your room almost every night? You didn’t think I’d have an inkling as to where you might possibly be sneaking off too?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

Neteyam tilted his head to hide his sudden blush, giving a fake cough to cover up the embarrassment he was feeling at having his father know what he’d been up to.

“Um- yeah, Jxo and I kind of have an understanding I guess,” he said sheepishly.

Jake’s ears twitched in interest. “And that is…?”

“If I don’t get caught, I don’t get killed.”

A bark of laughter echoed around the tent. “Well alright then.” He shook his head, “I am so not looking forward to when idiots start coming around Kiri and Tuk.”

“Dad,” Neteyam said seriously, because it was a fucking scary thought.

“Let’s just hope they’re not as good a sneak as you, yeah?” Jake joked again, somewhat seriously.

“Gee thanks dad,” he said sarcastically, making his way to the exit.

“Son,” Jake called before he left. “All jokes aside, thanks for telling me the good news. I’m proud of you and again, I’m happy for you, truly,” he said sincerely, getting to his own feet, to close the distance and give his son a fatherly hug. “I’m looking forward to officially meeting my daughter in law.”

Neteyam cleared his throat under the guise of feeling emotional. He patted his father back, returning the affection. “Thanks dad. For everything.”

Sneaking into Xi’s room went without a hitch. Neteyam considered himself a pro by now- his dad was right it seemed. He hoped to goodness no idiot like him came around his sisters. He quickly shook off the thought.

Xi was still up, despite the late hour- practising her sewing skills on what looked like a new craft in her hands.

Sewing was Salveen’s pastime hobby, so it was no surprise to him when Xi asked the elder to teach her the skill. She had subtly mentioned her interest a few times, so he’d given her the nudge to try it out herself.

Despite the clearly sleepy look on her face, she beamed at him when he entered the dimly lit room.

“Hi,” she whispered, setting aside her project- tail wagging at the sight of him as she scooted to make room for him.

“Hi sweetheart,” he murmured softly, crashing onto her bed and immediately tugging her into his arms. He nuzzled her neck with a deep inhale. “You smell delicious,” he commented.

“Spider let me use the hot water back at the labs for fun. They’ve got weird things like shower gel and shampoo instead of soapnut balm or bark, but I like it. Apparently they brought enough with them from Earth to last them a few decades. And they have an indoor waterfall that they can control, too. It can turn hot or cold or even in between,” she said in wonderment as she stroked his slightly damp braids. “The human lady, Casey, even showed me how to dry my hair with her blow dryer device.”

“That was nice of her. How’d you end up back there? I thought you and Kiri were going to the hot springs,” he asked, pulling back to see her face.

“We were but we took a detour and then Spider ended up showing us their updated dorm showers. It shoots jets now…but I didn’t like it with the jets though,” she said with a little scrunched up nose.

He smiled in response, pressing a tiny kiss to the tip of her nose- one large hand sailing up her stomach to tuck into her top.

“They know by the way,” she said hesitantly. “Kiri was all grossed out because apparently I stunk of you, her words, not mine.”

“They would’ve found out soon anyway. I just hope they keep their mouths shut.”

“Yeah, they promised not to say anything. They are happy for us. Kiri says we will be sisters now,” Xi said happily.

“Yes. And you will be my wife,” he grinned. “Any regrets yet?” he teased. “I should probably give you the lowdown on what exactly you signed yourself up for.”

“Mmmmm,” she hummed, pretending to think about it. “Nope. Like Tuk says, no take backs. You are going to be stuck with me I’m afraid. I don’t think anything you throw my way will change my mind.”

“Damn,” he muttered in faux disappointment. “I guess you’re right….I’m going to be stuck with you for good,” he said, breaking character with an infectious grin, leaning down to kiss her.

Her palm slid from his neck to cup his face, while he rolled on top of her completely, pulling her thigh up his hip.

“You taste sweet,” she said, licking her lips as if trying to figure out what he tasted like.

“I had a little fermented fruit wine earlier.”

“Oh, l like it,” she replied, serging up for another taste, sighing pleasurably when he licked his way into her mouth.

The kiss was broken when she pulled away to yawn, causing him to do the same.

“Tell me a story, please?” she asked sweetly, settling in against her sheets a bit more, hooking her ankle over the inside of his thigh.

He smiled at her request. She was always asking about his childhood and the life he lived as an adolescent.

At first when she began asking, he’d ask her to tell him something back about her own, but then he’d feel guilty because his were all good, fun, happy memories, while hers weren't.

When he expressed his guilty feeling to her, she told him his stories made her happy, it was her own little way at reliving her childhood- her innocent rewrite and escape. And so from then on he indulged her whenever she asked.

“Hmmm, alright let’s see...Oh I know a little one. So this one time- or should I say the first time Lo’ak decided to run away from home-”

Xilä muffled a laugh behind her palm. “Wait, how old was he?”

“Three, four maybe? I was five at the time I think, but yeah he had thrown this massive tantrum and got put in time out as punishment.”

He paused quickly to explain to Xi what time out meant before continuing.

“So he packed up his shit- or should I say his toys, announced he was running away and went all the way to Sal and Jxo’s…who were right next door at the time,” he said with a chuckle, making Xi laugh too.

“Anyway my parents hadn’t noticed he'd left. But I did, I noticed…So I grabbed my little practice bow, and I headed out as if it were some far land I had to venture to find my long lost missing brother,” he said with an eye roll as if he couldn’t believe himself.

Xi stifled another giggle.

“When I got there Sal was eagerly doting on him, feeding him the biggest fruit sweets I’d ever seen, pinching his cheeks and calling him handsome- it’s stupid, but I thought, this is amazing, I want that too. So I decided I was going to run away from home as well...We got busted not even five minutes after that,” he snorted.

“I remember when I first met Salveen, she said you two were always running away to her home,” she laughed.

“It was fun....But that first time though, mom was all worried and crying, hugging us as if we’d been gone for years.”

“You two are her babies,” Xi said softly.

Noticing her expression, he couldn’t help but ask, “Do you want? Kids, I mean.”

“Oh, um. Yes…but-” she frowned. “‘Teyam, I didn’t have a very good mother, I don’t know if I’ll be any good at motherhood.”

“Screw her,” he said seriously. “You’ve got the most amazing mothers around you to help you through anything. Sal, D’avi, my mom, my grandmother and you’ve got me. We’ll figure it out together- when the time comes of course. There’s no rush and no pressure. Okay?”

“Okay,” she croaked, feeling a tiny bubble of emotion loge in her throat. This was one of the many reasons why she loved him. He never let her think negatively about herself- he was her biggest supporter. “I love you,” she said seriously.

His expression melted. “I love you,” he replied in equal honesty.

They laid there for another hour, whispering about their future, sharing ridiculous stories while they tried to stifle their giggles. Like a maddening force, they soon found themselves in a heated make out session that had Neteyam quite amused.

Xi was going down for the count- she was tired and fighting sleep. He counted three yawns in the last few minutes he’d been feasting on the skin of her neck. She lazily dragged him back to her mouth- tongue pushing through the barrier of his lips.

“Mm, okay. Bedtime,” he said, breaking their locked lips, far too quickly for her liking.

“What? Why?” she frowned, wiggling a hand between their bodies to reach into his loincloth. “I thought we’d- hey!” she protested loudly when he gripped her wrist, halting her pursuit by pinning her to the sheets.

“Shhh,” he shushed against her lips, nipping her bottom lip lightly. He waited a beat, one highly trained ear straining to hear if Jxo had heard her outburst, shoulders slumping in relief when it seemed like he hadn’t. “You can’t get me killed just yet baby, I want to marry you, remember?”

She blushed, hearing the human term for the mating ceremony. “Sorry…um can we continue now?” she asked in a hushed whisper, trying to grind on the leg between hers.

He huffed an amused laugh, pressing his thigh against her bare center to give her a little more friction, causing her to moan quietly. “Xilä, you are a greedy little thing, you know that? I made you come five times for the day already. Six, if you count the little one.”

“So?” she snapped, trying to wiggle her wrist free.

“You’re tired Xi. You need to sleep baby.”

“Just one, please?” she pleaded, weaponizing her eyes, to peer up at him through her lashes.

“Fine, but I get to choose how you come, and if you make a single sound I am stopping,” he threatened seriously.

“Yes. Okay,” she agreed, nodding eagerly, tail thumping along his skin, begging him to do something already.

A child was being chased. Hoots and howls echoed behind her as she ran through the night. “Mother! Mother!” she cried out, trying desperately to catch up to the fleeing woman in front of her.

An arm wrapped around the little girl's cloak, yanking her backwards as she flailed and kicked and screamed.

“No! No! Mother! Please don’t go! Don’t leave me mother!”

She fought hard against the hold of the person behind her, eyes locked on the silhouette of her mother heading straight into the Dead Forest.

Not once did she look back. Not once.

“Mother!” she sobbed bitterly, fat tears staining the cloth around her nose and mouth.

The person behind her was far stronger. They dragged her pathetic form by the scruff of her neck. Hot scorching dirt burning her through her cloak covered body. “No! No!”

“NO! Let me go! Let me go!”

“Xilä! Xilä! Wake up sweetheart. Hey hey, you’re safe. You’re fine. Look at me! Eyes, Xilä!”

Xilä’s eyes snapped open, locking on a petrified looking Neteyam. She panted as hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She had apparently been pulled into a seated position because over his shoulder she saw Jxo who looked just as scared as she felt.

“Xi, darling,” said a gentle voice.

Turning to her left she saw Salveen crouched right next to her, brushing her sweat slicked hair out of her face, concerned eyes tearing up. “It’s just a dream, alright? You are safe. Say it with me, Xi. I am safe.”

“I am safe,” Xilä echoed in a hoarse whisper, face crumpling in relief. Needing skin to skin comfort, she reached out to Neteyam who instantly pulled her into his lap, folded legs on either side of his.

Face hidden in his chest, her arms wound tight around his waist while he cupped her neck with one palm under her hair, the other rubbing soothingly up and down the span of her back- her tail blindly finding and curling around his.

“Baby,” he breathed against the top of her head, rocking them a little.

Salveen sniffled as she continued to stare at the broken girl in his arms. “That’s the second night in a row,” she rasped.

“What do you mean?” Neteyam frowned, head snapping to her. “She had one yesterday?”

She nodded. “I don’t know what could have triggered it. She came home crying but wouldn’t say what happened. Then she was fine. We didn’t come home until late, but by then you lot had all packed up and left. I don’t know if it’s related.”

Neteyam’s ears flattened to his head. The only thing he knew that happened yesterday was her run in with Leati.

“When was the last time she had one before then?” he asked.

“Not for months,” Jxo answered, stepping forward with his arms folded to have a closer look at Xi. “Probably not since the first few weeks she moved in.”

“That’s right,” his wife agreed. “Tsahìk usually checked in regularly until they stopped- they still have their sessions of course which we thought has been helping.”

When Xilä stayed that first month with his grandmother, almost every night she suffered from terrible terrible nightmares. It was a side effect from her past trauma apparently.

After he asked Sal and Jxo to take her in, Mo’at had sat all three of them down- along with his father who wanted to be present, to discuss Xi’s wellbeing. Her healing was not a one and done deal she’d told them. It would be a long mental and emotional journey.

Mo’at had coached them through certain scenarios and how to help Xi through them. They were all willing and ready to take on active roles in her healing process.

Xi also had weekly sessions with the healer since then, where they’d talk through her past- helping Xi to open up and face old wounds embedded deep within her.

“What are you doing here by the way?” Salveen asked him finally, scrutinizing the way he held her adoptive daughter. “Why did you call her baby?”

When she and Jxo had run over after being awoken by Xi’s cries, Neteyam’s presence hadn’t even registered to her. She was too focused on Xilä’s petrified state.

Neteyam swallowed and looked down at Xi’s now sleeping face- her cheek stuck flush against his chest.

Jxo rolled his eyes and answered for him. “The skxawng has been sneaking in almost every night, Sal.”

Salveen’s eyes widened when she realized what he was insinuating. “Wait- are you two...?” Her pointer finger moved from Neteyam to Xilä. “And you KNEW?” she hissed at her husband, pointing at him accusingly. “You didn’t even say anything! How long have you been hiding this from me?!” she whisper-yelled as not to wake Xilä.

Neteyam watched amused as the big, gruff Jxo spluttered, pointed ears falling low while he tried to explain himself.

“What exactly are your intentions, young man?” she snapped, cutting off her husband to zero in on Neteyam again. “I will not have you trapezing in and out of here whenever you feel like it. Xilä is not some-”

“I would like to have her as my mate,” he said, cutting off the elder’s ramble.

Both Jxo and Salveen stared at him in shock.

“It’s um- well for one, this is not exactly how I wanted to ask for permission,” he joked mildly, titling Xi down a little, so that she nestled comfortably in the crook of his arm- he didn’t want to put her down just yet.

He sent a quick prayer of thanks to Eywa that they were both dressed when the two elders came rushing in because the glare Jxo was shooting at him right now would have had anyone else quivering. He knew if he were naked, it would have only made matters worse.

“Jxo, Sal. I’m in love with Xilä,” he admitted sincerely. “I want to build a future with her. I want to take care of her and I want to love her for the rest of my life.”

Sal’s fingertips covered her lips, tears springing in her eyes while Jxo’s face relaxed somewhat.

“If you could grant me your permission, I would forever be grateful,” Neteyam finished, his gaze darting back and forth between the two of them.

“Oh, ‘Teyam,” Sal sighed out, as if it were the most romantic speech she’d ever heard.

Jxo cleared his throat, avoiding Neteyam’s earnest expression. “I want to talk to Xilä first, before I give my blessing.”

“That’s fair,” Neteyam agreed, taming his smile when he noticed the man trying to hide his own emotions.

“Come on Sal…let’s, let them rest,” the gruff elder said somewhat hesitantly.

“But- but he just confessed his love and-”

“I know, I know darling, but it’s late and we all need rest,” he said gently, helping his mate to her feet. “Eywa knows I’ll need it to have to deal with all this in the morning,” he grouched.

“Alright. Goodnight dear,” she bid to the young Na’vi while being guided out of the room.

“Night, Sal.”

“Keep your fucking hands to yourself,” Jxo warned in an undertone. “….And make sure she’s alright,” he said somewhat softer before leaving them alone.

What do we think.....?

So, this chapter honestly was not planned at all. What is now Part 10 was supposed to be Part 9, but my writing kind of ran away with me and Boom, now this part is here.

It was getting a bit too long, so the ending continues in the next part.

If you're wondering, and little spoiler alert, her asshole father is back in Part 10. So some drama to come.

Also I'm realizing that this fic may turn out a bit longer than expected.

Anywhoooo, as always, please share your thoughts in the comments, I love hearing from you all :)

Tags: @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @granddearduck @riatesullironalite @strawberri-blonde @earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop

If you'd like to be tagged or I forgot you by accident, please let me know.

#neteyam #neteyam x oc #neteyam avatar #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam sully

237 notes · View notes

dragqueenstarscream · 2 days ago

Text

drag queen's monsterformers au masterpost

this post is gonna be a comprehensive list of all of the characters, settings, and ideas i have for my monsterformers au because it's been on my mind for about a month now. if i come up with any more major ideas, i'll rb this post and tack it on, but for now, this is the general gist of things.

something to note is that while this is primarily inspired by tfp, it's not a perfect one to one retelling. there will be major changes such as different backstories, my own personal ships, the ending, and characters from other continuities. just something to keep in mind.

setting

since this is a fantasy au, this will be set in a sort of faerûn/dnd style world, with any major locations (ie washington dc, russia, greece, or anywhere else that pops up in the show) to be rewritten to reflect the setting. as such, jasper, nevada is now a village on the edge of a broad kingdom, hidden within an arid mountain range. it's still called jasper, though, because come on. that already sounds like a fantasy name.

the characters

obviously, since this is a monster au, all of the robots are now mythical creatures. despite how wildly different they are from each other, they all share the same level of sapience, so characters like phoenix!ratchet and firbolg!bulkhead, despite one looking more animal and one looking more human, are mentally at the same level of sapience. the other major difference is that, rather than disguise themselves as vehicles, they hide as regular humans. where the voices of primus autobots) and the talons of unicron (decepticons) differ is that the voices typically disguise themselves as working class people to blend in better and learn more about how their new home works, while talons typically take on more upper class appearances (royalty, military authority, businessmen, aristocrats) in order to effectively infiltrate and influence this new world.

the voices of primus

optimus prime - a gargantuan firedrake (a dragon without the wings) and the last of the primes, ones who have spoken with primus himself. despite his massive size and strength, he's one of the most gentle of all monsters. like all dragons and their relatives, he has a tendency to hoard; his den is full of magical artifacts and ancient books he's unearthed or bartered for over centuries. as a human, he takes the form of an old librarian, both because he was an archivist back home, and because he enjoys the unrestricted access to as much information about humans as he can get his hands on.

ratchet - a cranky old phoenix whose feathers have gone mostly white with age and stress from war. he's the oldest of the voices by far, and is a couple hundred years away from his next rebirth. he may not be the largest monster, but those wings pack a punch, and he's not afraid to use his talons and beak on the battlefield. despite all of this, deep down, he has a gentleness to him, especially with the children and optimus. as a human, he's a doctor, because with how often the children get in trouble, he needs that extra knowledge on human anatomy.

bumblebee - a strong willed pegasus who enjoys spending time with humans the most out of all the voices. incredibly fast on land and on the wing, he loves to push himself to constantly get stronger for his team. he's also the monster most humans gravitate towards because winged horses are more approachable and familiar than, say, manticores or gryphons. he can't speak due to a nasty curse placed on him by megatron, so he whinnies and nickers like a regular horse. thankfully, the other voices understand him after knowing him for this long. as a human, he's a hired farmhand who puts his strength and speed to good use. he often helps out on raf's family farm and is able to keep a close eye on him this way. he communicates via sign language or writing in this form.

bulkhead - a massive firbolg with a heart of gold. giantfolk have an undeserved reputation for being stupid, but bulkhead is wise beyond his years; he just prefers to use his size and strength when fighting. talk to him long enough, though, and you'll see centuries of wisdom and experience shining in those big blue eyes. one of his favorite things is to use his might to protect and impress miko, whom he sees almost like a daughter. as a human, he's a construction worker, which allows him to do what he does best; build things and break things.

arcee - a sharpshooting manticore who takes no nonsense from anyone. manticores can fire venomous barbs from their tails, and arcee is especially gifted in this department, hitting her targets with alarming accuracy. that, combined with her wings, makes her a nightmare in battle. she may seem as prickly as a thornbush, but in reality, she cares deeply for everyone around her; she just has a hard time showing it without applying a liberal dose of snark. as a human, she works as a bartender at a pub, which is how she met jack. she initially viewed him as a troublemaker, but now is more of a mentor and has taken him under her wing. literally.

smokescreen - a proud and noble gryphon who's determined to prove himself. gryphons often come off as haughty, and smokescreen may appear to fit that bill, but in reality, he's just eager to make his idol proud. he... doesn't quite get that humans are, for the most part, afraid of monsters. why should they be afraid of him? he doesn't wanna hurt them! but he's getting the hang of it. as a human, he's an adventurer who longs to see more of the world he's found himself in.

wheeljack - a wisecracking wyvern and a menace to anyone who crosses his path. he may be smaller than other dragons, but he more than makes up for it with his speed, agility, toxic gas breath, and his ingenuity with crafting weapons. his hoard mainly comprises of weapons and supplies to make them. his favorite thing in the world (besides bulkhead) is anything that goes boom. as a human, he's a bit of a mad scientist, living on his own so he can perform his experiments in relative peace.

cliffjumper - a goofy minotaur who's able to bullshit his way out of any situation. unusually chatty for a minotaur, he loves to crack jokes and tease his fellow teammates. some find it annoying, but others, like arcee, find it endearing. behind the goofiness, cliffjumper is a calculating warrior able to make quick decisions on the fly - though that boldness often gets him into trouble. as a human, he's a farmhand like bumblebee and often works alongside him with more labor intensive jobs.

the talons of unicron

megatron - a dracolich whose lust for power has driven him down a terrible path. once a proud gladiator, centuries of practicing dark magic have corrupted his body past the point of no return, and his mind is following suit. he was mated to optimus back home, but that was a lifetime ago, and all megatron feels towards him now is loathing mixed with twisted desire, a sick mockery of love. as a human, he poses as lord of fortress nemesis whenever interacting with other human nobles. oddly, though, no one can ever find this mysterious fortress, as if its location is always changing...

starscream - a cunning harpy who's always trying to stay one step ahead of megatron. haughty and full of himself, starscream loves to flaunt his accomplishments and terrorize the sky in the heat of battle. deep down, though, he's trying to relive his glory days as lord of the skies from back home. he joined the talons to try and regain some of his old power, but after being megatron's whipping boy for so long, he's grown jaded and is now searching for a way out - even if it involves defecting to the voices. as a human, he's a commander, though he won't disclose his military achievements to other humans...

soundwave - a masked naga with a frighteningly accurate memory and a will to use it. silent as snow and with scales as dark as the night sky, soundwave has eyes all over fortress nemesis; nothing escapes his surveillance. strangely, whenever he talks, he parrots what others say in a perfect mimicry of their voice. he's also never taken his mask off; it's believed that only megatron has ever seen his true face and heard his real voice. even as a human, people don't really know what he is. most assume he's an assassin of some sort. he also keeps his falcon laserbeak as his familiar, making sure his control extends as far as she can fly.

shockwave - the battle damaged tiefling with a mile long sadism streak. calculating and cold, despite his infernal abilities, shockwave is a true terror strong enough to send shivers down the spines of even the strongest warriors. he may be blind in one eye, but the glare in his remaining eye can send even other talons running. not only is he physically imposing, he's also highly intelligent, using a combination of magic and science to create new warriors to fight for the talons. as a human, he's a businessman, using his know how to gather the supplies he needs for his experiments.

breakdown - the vampire bruiser who leaves no mercy. contrary to the usual slender, aristocratic vampires, breakdown is nothing short of a brute, using his raw strength and terrifying visage to strike fear into the hearts of his opponents. he drains the blood of those he kills in battle, which is how he got so strong to begin with. the only one who's truly well and safe from his wrath is a certain werewolf. as a human, he serves as a bodyguard for said certain someone.

knock out - the self obsessed werewolf who's unafraid to play dirty. despite being a fierce, savage predator, knock out prefers to spend his time at fortress nemesis, dissecting anyone megatron puts on his table. he also tends to be quite the hypocrite; he'll gladly tear someone apart in battle or on the operating table, but will then whine and complain that his fur is filthy. he'll snap his teeth at anyone who touches him, but then turn around and beg breakdown to rub his belly. as a human, he's a wealthy aristocrat who proudly indulges in human luxuries and flaunts his image; he's very "look, don't touch."

skyquake and dreadwing - twin gargoyles whose only loyalty is to each other. they joined the talons to ensure each other's safety, and with their combined physical strength, they quickly rose through the ranks and became formidable warriors. skyquake isn't able to use magic like most monsters, and thus, doesn't have a human form. as such, dreadwing uses his magic to protect his twin in battle, though it wears him down significantly. as a human, he's a mighty warrior with the battle scars to prove his worth.

this is about as far as i've come with character designs, though there's definitely gonna be more to come, as i have ideas for characters from other continuities, like tfa and g1. i'm pretty excited to start writing fics for this au and just play around and have fun!

18 notes · View notes

swannbluana · 20 days ago

Text

pt. 1: an analysis of the different vedic themes within miraculous ladybug

before the days got filled with responsibilities, i was an avid miraculous ladybug watcher. to this day, i still keep up with the show during my free time. throughout these past few years, i’ve deep dived into the knowledge of vedic astrology and progressively started to recognize themes present in the show that coincided with certain nakshatras. this is part one of my research, a deep dive into the vedic astrology of miraculous: the tales of ladybug and cat noir.

TW: themes of death are discussed.

-> i used the birthdays of the voice actors and actresses to confirm my findings.

director [thomas astruc]: uttara bhadrapada moon & uttara ashadha sun

gabriel agreste/hawkmoth [keith silverstein]: vishakha moon & mula sun [as the show progresses, his name changes to monarch, however i'm going to refer to him as hawkmoth throughout the analysis].

marinette dupain-cheng/ladybug [cristina vee]: uttara ashadha moon & punarvasu sun

adrien agreste/cat noir [bryce papenbrook]: magha moon & shatabhisha sun

chloe bourgeois [selah victor]: anuradha/jyeshta moon & ashwini sun

-> definitions

miraculous: magical jewelry containing hidden powers that transforms the wearers into animal-themed superpowered beings.

miracle box: holds all 36 miraculouses when they aren’t in use.

akumatized: regular people who are transformed into villains.

cataclysm: the superpower to destroy anything the person touches.

absolute wish: aka the ultimate miraculous absolute power, grants a person one wish to ask for anything in the universe.

this analysis of the show is my interpretation and is all up for interpretation!

please credit if shared through any type of means!

･ﾟﾟ･｡

before discussing specific characters, i wanted to highlight the director’s nakshatras. there were a few instances where i saw his uttara bhadrapada moon and uttara ashadha sun being expressed. firstly, the main antagonist of the show is the holder of the butterfly miraculous who operates away from the public eye. butterfly imagery has repeatedly been used to symbolize the transformation of uttara bhadrapada natives; like a butterfly leaving its cocoon, the native rises from the ashes. he controls the villainous acts conducted in the city behind the scenes. the deity of uttara bhadrapada, ahirbudhnya, is separated from society as the serpent of the deep sea, living at the bottom of the ocean. also, it’s a saturn nakshatra and the planet, saturn, is associated with control. the majority of his villain attire is a deep purple color and the representative color of this nakshatra is purple. in addition, the main protagonist in the show comes from a normal middle-class family and her love interest (also a main protagonist) comes from a wealthy family. she doesn’t pay mind to his money, but is in love with his character. she has ambitions of her own and wants to become a famous fashion designer. this is reminiscent of uttara bhadrapada being coined as the cinderella nakshatra by claire nakti. despite the challenges that come her way, she remains pure-hearted while simultaneously unlocking and building the inner strength and drive to push forward towards her life desires (and push forward in life in general) which is a reason why her love interest falls for her. moreover, uttara bhadrapada is called the warrior star and uttara ashadha has the power to give an unstoppable victory. throughout the show, these themes play out for the two protagonists (who are superheroes) as they win most of their battles. uttara ashadha “fights for a righteous cause for the benefit of all,” and the two fight to defeat the evil in the city to protect all of its civilians. in relation to the main antagonist, he creates and distributes alliance rings to the general public. the rings function like a smartphone, but on the other hand, it is used to transfer powers to his akumatized victims. the uttara ashadha nakshatra is known for forming alliances to achieve great results, and the villain uses the ring users as a strategy to win against the superheroes. now lets start to break down the connections between the nakshatras and characters in the series.

･ﾟﾟ･｡

let’s begin with the world-renowned fashion mogul and father, gabriel agreste being a negative manifestation of vishakha and mula. he is a well-known, paris-based designer and father to adrien agreste, who typically wears a light, but bold palette of clothing consisting mainly of white and red. in the beginning, he comes across as a reserved and strict individual who’s passionate about his craft. soon after, we learn he’s not just a normal citizen, but the villain of the show, hawkmoth. as hawkmoth, he wears a dark palette of clothing consisting mainly of dark purple with gray and black accents. hawkmoth comes across as an ambitious, scheming, and relentless individual. this physical representation of duality, of his true self versus his shadow-side, brings the vishakha nakshatra to mind. the meaning of vishakha is the forked branch alluding to opposite ways or paths in life–two extremities, and in this matter, gabriel has a double life. vishakha is a jupiter nakshatra and jupiter is the planet of duality–dual personality. In addition, vishakha has a pair of two deities in one body referred to as indragni: indra, the chief of gods, also the god of transformation and lightning, as well as agni, the god of fire. there comes a time when these natives' naively generous approach to life doesn’t work when attempting to attain their desires, so they create an opposite persona–an alter ego/their shadow self. due to jupiter’s expansiveness they’re able to maintain it for some time, however the continuous growth can lead to instability as saturn is not present to balance and integrate the two vastly different energies into one. it can come to a point where they disregard their true selves in favor of the alter ego.

･ﾟﾟ･｡

gabriel did not behave in this manner previously; the reason for his antagonistic behavior leads back to his wife. his wife, emilie agreste, fell into a coma after using the power of a broken peacock miraculous they found while on vacation (along with the butterfly miraculous) to become pregnant and give birth to their son, adrien. since emilie fell into a coma, gabriel became obsessed with taking the miraculouses from the two superheroes, ladybug and cat noir, because having both together grants a person an absolute wish. he wants to bring her back to life and this obsession with relieving his and his son’s grief triggers him to bring forth his shadow side and become the villain we see in the show. his obsessive tendencies is a direct reflection of his vishakha moon as the moon is debilitated in this nakshatra (specifically the scorpio portion, but he’s a libra moon). jupiter is the planet of expansion while venus is the planet that deals with relationships, encompassing romantic relationships. this combination in libra vishakha creates a focus on their relations to others and in this context, romantic relations. venus also relates to pleasure and with jupiter being unrestricted, it can indulge in something with no limits and this can lead to obsessive tendencies. too much excess, too much growth results in instability cause there’s no control, which is why the alter ego vishakha creates becomes hard to maintain as it starts to take over the natives life. in connection, there’s an episode called destruction where cat noir cataclysms hawkmoth’s arm and it leaves a dark spot. there’s only a matter of time before the dark spot spreads to the rest of his body, he decays, and ultimately passes away. gabriel became so engrossed with achieving his goal as hawkmoth, now he’s paying the consequence in his actual reality as death is around the corner (and this is reminiscent to mula and mula’s association to kali, the goddess of time and death). as the star of purpose, these natives will achieve anything they set their minds to through any means necessary, not minding if it’s through what others may deem as unethical ways (but the natives themselves may not see it as that or they just don’t care). yet, it exemplifies the overwhelming devotion and fixation of vishakha to their partners and goals (which stabilizes in the next nakshatra, anuradha). however, his inability to let go of the past and accept his reality leads to destruction.

･ﾟﾟ･｡

gabriel’s sun is ketu-ruled in the mula nakshatra which means “the root” and its symbol consists of roots tied together. the deity of this nakshatra is nirriti: the goddess of decay, destruction, and calamity, lives in the kingdom of the dead. the function of ketu is to detach and represents the past, however the viewers watch the negative expression of ketu manifest in him clinging to what once was. gabriel intends to resurrect his wife, so her body is preserved in a glass coffin in a spacious underground garden filled with trees within his house. the residence of emilie’s body within a garden of trees is symbolic to mula’s connection to the roots of a tree (and vishakha’s symbol of a tree with spreading branches). she is the root of gabriel and hawkmoth’s actions. everything he does leads back to her and everything is for her to live again. she's his hidden motivation and he is willing to do anything to revive her consciousness. after much effort, in the end he did obtain the ladybug and cat noir miraculouses (and every other miraculous) which highlights vishakha’s ability to succeed. however, he didn’t wish to resurrect his wife like he was originally planning to because he wasn’t going to live much longer. he didn’t want his wife to experience the grief of his passing once she woke up. he also deliberated over who was going to take care of his son, adrien, if he and his assistant (who takes care of him and whose health’s in danger) were no longer around. so, instead of indulging his own desires, in the season five finale called re-creation, gabriel agreste decides to use the absolute wish to sacrifice himself to salvage the health of his assistant, nathalie, and to reunite with his wife in the afterlife (the wish must maintain the balance in the universe so it’s a give-and-take type of wish). by doing this, their current universe is destroyed and then re-created which connects to mula’s shakti, to destroy or break things apart. also, it supports the overall theme of mula, in order for creation to take place, destruction must occur–they’re two sides of the same coin. at first, he was willing to destroy everything for his own personal gain, but in the end, uses the power of the wish to help another person which demonstrates his own personal transformation. he becomes liberated from the desires that ended up destroying him and from his role as hawkmoth.

･ﾟﾟ･｡

additionally, there is another way gabriel channels his vishakha and mula placements and it’s through the actions of hawkmoth. hawkmoth uses the butterfly miraculous to bring calamity throughout the city of paris by akumatizing innocent civilians. to start, once he finds an individual feeling any type of negative emotion, he locks them as his target and sends an akuma their way. an akuma is originally a pure, white butterfly that hawkmoth transforms into a corrupted black butterfly with purple lightning streaks filled with malicious intention. the design and transformation of the butterfly connects to indra, the god of transformation and lightning. the akuma flies to the civilian, then latches onto a special valuable of theirs that’s in direct relation to their negative emotions. he uses the akuma as a medium to exacerbate their feelings and communicate with them–basically, a form of possession. hawkmoth ensures he’ll help them satiate their emotions in exchange for the ladybug and cat noir miraculouses. after the person agrees to the exchange, they transform into a villain and become obsessive over achieving their objective. this process of hawkmoth bringing forth the person’s shadow side to make them obsess over succeeding connects to the transformational and obsessive aspect of vishakha as well as its shakti is to achieve many and various fruits in life. the newly-emerged villains use their powers to disturb and destroy the city relating to the evil use of mula’s powers. both nakshatras connect to jupiter, and jupiter is the planet of war. this shows how the great benefic, if not controlled, can lead to great disaster. soon after the akumatization, ladybug and cat noir come out to defend, protect, and save the city and the victim.

･ﾟﾟ･｡

-> part two of the mlb vedic analysis

#miraculous ladybug #vedic astrology #uttara bhadrapada #uttara ashadha #vishakha #mula #sidereal astrology #astrology #astro notes #astro observations #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #monarch #ml analysis #swannbluana

12 notes · View notes

unhetalia · 10 months ago

Text

More than 1 note on a post? I'm gonna take that as people being interested! The follow up of my first character headcanon post - this time for England and Russia aka my America love interests.

England:

Can be described as one word: sharp. Sharp jawline, sharp eyes, thin mouth. He has an eyebrow piercing - he rarely wears it nowadays, but he made the piercing with magic so it's always there. He has an eyebrow slit from a scar he got from a battle with a magical creature that never healed. All the other nations are fascinated with it because scars are so rare among their kind (and also because with how England's eyebrows are, it's very eye catching). Attractive in a rough and tumble way - he's very popular with a subset of the female population who initially peg him for a bad boy no matter how far behind him those days are. (France always jokes he's got the face of a delinquent). Physically 30s, ID says 33.

Tailored three piece suits and oxfords are his regular wardrobe for work, like a proper gentleman.

Dirty, light blonde hair (a bit like this), and D37 green-coloured eyes. While he's very hygienic, he doesn't take care of himself beyond doing things for hygiene, so he tends to have rough, calloused hands and his skin isn't particularly soft, though he has the Nation-blessed clear skin.

Very little body fat, lean muscle. He's 180cm (or 5'10), and is therefore 2cm shorter than America, which infuriates Arthur. A lot of scars from magical battles - he has more scars than any other Nation. Has kept up sword fighting and martial arts, and unfortunately has a temper that means he gets into a lot of brawls. Physicality is very important to him, which comes from some more old-fashioned Nation values that younger Nations don't tend to have (more on this later).

Arthur dressed down = replacing the three piece suit with a dress shirt paired with a sweater vest. Or a long, dark coat. He generally tends to prefer blacks, greys, browns. It's rumoured (according to France) that his fashion sense is to stop young women from hitting on him, thinking he's some kind of bad boy. Also why he's cut down on smoking in public. Poor guy.

Russia:

If England is rough and tumble handsome, Russia is prince handsome - really on as opposite ends of a person's 'type scale' as you can possibly get. He's got a strong jaw and fuller lips, soft eyes. Many a six yer old have tugged on their mother's clothes, pointed at him and told their mum there's a prince, and many a mum have rewarded their six year old for pointing him out. Physically 30s, ID says 31.

Whatever he wears always tends to be hidden by a coat and his scarf.

White blonde hair (close to... this colour). His eyes are undeniably violet. Once again the polar opposite of Arthur, his skin is soft and smooth, looking very much like he's never worked a day in his life - but if the metaphor that I was going for is that England's power is in the way he's hardened from work and hardship, and maintains strength and power through sheer will, Russia's strength is in his impenetrability, in the way even years of holding swords or guns never shows in his body.

I've run out of words, so Russia's body type is the second or last one in this image, depending on if he's at war or in peace times. Minor differences between them, generally. Broad shoulders, thick waist, thick everything. No abs, just. Solidly built. Also, he's 6'7, and wears the kind of boots that make him taller (not on purpose - he just needs sturdy, waterproof boots, and those tend to add height.

#hetalia #hws england #hws russia #hetalia world series #hetalia workd stars #aph #ivan braginsky #arthur kirkland #-#re: england #re: russia #.txt #file: old headcanons

33 notes · View notes

star-wars-writing · 11 months ago

Text

A tale of Love and War

Hey Star Wars fans and fellow fanfiction enthusiasts! 🌟

I'm thrilled to share with you my latest work for the @codywanbingo with he prompt nuzzling. a deep dive into the untold emotions and hidden dynamics between General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody amidst the Clone Wars.

A quick shoutout to the character 'Bones,' our beloved medical droid who has made appearances in numerous fan works. Though I can't recall the original creator (kudos to them!), Bones has become a fanfic staple, and I'm excited to include him in this tale.

Dive in and join me on this journey of love, conflict, and resilience. Feedback, comments, and reblogs are immensely appreciated. Let's get the conversation going!

Onboard the Negotiator, tucked away in the labyrinth of corridors and chambers that made up the Jedi cruiser, lay a room that belonged to General Obi-Wan Kenobi. Unlike the austere, utilitarian spaces that characterized much of the ship, Obi-Wan's quarters breathed a quiet, personal charm. The walls were adorned with artifacts from distant worlds and holobooks lined the shelves, each item whispering tales of a life rich with adventure and contemplation. In this sanctuary, far from the watchful eyes of the galaxy, Obi-Wan and Commander Cody found a rare reprieve.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the starlight filtering through the viewport casting gentle shadows. Obi-Wan stood by the window, his gaze lost in the tapestry of stars that stretched into infinity. His Jedi robes, usually worn with an air of dignified command, now hung loosely around him, the fabric soft and yielding.

Cody, his armor left behind in favor of simple garb, approached Obi-Wan from behind. His footsteps were hushed, reverent in the sanctity of the space they shared. He paused just behind Obi-Wan, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him, yet giving him the space to breathe in the vastness of the cosmos.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Obi-Wan's voice was a soft murmur, tinged with a wistfulness that went beyond the stars.

"Indeed, General," Cody replied, the formality of the title spoken with an affectionate undertone. He moved closer, his hands finding Obi-Wan's shoulders, fingers gently kneading the tension that war had woven into them.

Obi-Wan leaned back slightly, a silent invitation. Cody accepted, wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan's waist, their bodies aligning in a seamless embrace. They stood together, two figures enshrouded in the tranquility of the room, finding solace in each other's presence.

The gentle rhythm of their breathing harmonized, a quiet symphony in the stillness. Obi-Wan turned within Cody's embrace, facing him. Their eyes met, a galaxy of unspoken words and shared experiences reflected in their depths. Cody's hand rose to cup Obi-Wan's face, his thumb caressing the beard that had become as much a part of him as his lightsaber.

"You know," Obi-Wan said, his voice barely above a whisper, "in moments like these, you make me believe that peace is possible. Not just out there," he gestured towards the stars, "but in here," he placed a hand over Cody's heart.

Cody's response was a tender smile, one that rarely graced his features but reserved for moments like this. He leaned in, their foreheads touching, a gentle nuzzle that spoke volumes. It was a dance they had mastered over time, movements born of trust and a deep, abiding affection.

In the safety of Obi-Wan's quarters, they allowed themselves to be more than just General and Commander. They were kindred spirits, drawn together in the midst of turmoil, finding in each other a strength that no war could diminish.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace, the world outside faded into insignificance.

In the hushed tranquility of Obi-Wan Kenobi's quarters aboard the Negotiator, time seemed to pause, creating a bubble of serenity amidst the relentless tides of war. The room, a reflection of Obi-Wan's life and journey, was bathed in the soft glow of ambient light, casting long, gentle shadows across the walls adorned with relics and holobooks. In this space, Obi-Wan and Commander Cody shared a moment of profound intimacy, a rare respite from their roles as General and Commander.

They sat side by side on Obi-Wan's modest bed, not as symbols of war, but as individuals bound by a connection that transcended rank and duty. The bed, usually a place of solitary rest for Obi-Wan, now became a sanctuary for shared dreams and whispered confidences.

Obi-Wan, his posture relaxed yet still exuding the grace of a Jedi, turned towards Cody, his blue eyes reflecting a depth of emotion rarely seen by others. Cody, his usual stoic demeanor softened in Obi-Wan's presence, faced him, their knees touching in a comfortable familiarity.

"It's moments like this," Obi-Wan began, his voice a soft cadence, "when the war seems a distant echo, that I dare to dream of a different life. A life where you and I could stand side by side, not just as soldiers, but as partners, free from the shadows of conflict."

Cody, his gaze unwavering, listened intently. In his eyes, there was a flicker of hope, a testament to the trust and affection he held for Obi-Wan. "General, I've seen war define many men, but with you, it's different. You've not let it consume you. You dream of peace, and that's what makes following you into battle worth every risk."

Obi-Wan's expression softened, a tender smile playing on his lips. "I know the Jedi Code speaks against attachments," he continued, his voice tinged with a bittersweet acknowledgment of their reality. "But in a war like this, attachments seem to be an unspoken truth. Plo Koon with his Wolfpack, Mace Windu with Ponds... we're all tethered to those we fight alongside."

Cody nodded, his hand finding Obi-Wan's in a gesture that was both comforting and affirming. "And yet, here we are, General. In defiance of rules, yet somehow, it feels like the most right thing in this war-torn galaxy."

The words hung in the air, a fragile truth that both of them had come to accept. Obi-Wan's thumb gently stroked Cody's hand, a small, intimate gesture that spoke volumes.

"Maybe, when the war is over," Cody ventured, his voice a mixture of hope and uncertainty, "we could find a way to continue our journey together. Not as General and Commander, but simply as Obi-Wan and Cody."

The thought hung between them, a shared dream of a future unburdened by war. Obi-Wan's gaze drifted to the viewport, where the stars shone with an ancient light, witnesses to countless stories of love and loss.

"Yes, Cody," he whispered, his heart heavy with the weight of their secret and the uncertainty of the future. "In a galaxy at peace, I'd like nothing more than to explore it with you, side by side. To see worlds without the cloud of war hanging over them."

They sat there in silence, each lost in their thoughts, yet together in their dreams. It was a delicate balance, this secret they shared, a sliver of light in the vast darkness of the galaxy. In that moment, in the quiet of Obi-Wan's quarters, their affection for each other was a silent rebellion against a universe torn apart by conflict, a testament to the enduring power of connection and hope.

***

Amidst the steel corridors of the Negotiator, far from the officers' quarters and the nerve center of the ship, the heart of the clone troopers' world beat in a rhythm all its own. Here, in a mess hall shared by the 212th Attack Battalion and the 501st Legion, the air buzzed with the low hum of conversation and the clatter of utensils against trays. This was a place where rank and protocol could be momentarily forgotten, where the clones could be just men, brothers in arms, sharing stories and experiences.

The troopers of the 501st, led by Captain Rex, sat interspersed with members of the 212th. Their blue-marked armor, a stark contrast to the orange of the 212th, was a visual reminder of their different allegiances, yet among these men, such distinctions mattered little. They were united by something deeper than the colors they wore - a bond forged in the fires of countless battles, a camaraderie that transcended the divisions of units.

As they ate, the conversation naturally veered towards the day's events, the usual banter about missions and close calls. However, there was an undercurrent of something more, a topic that was approached with a mixture of respect and a hint of playfulness.

"So, has anyone seen Cody today?" one of the 501st troopers, Echo, asked with a knowing look. His question was met with chuckles and sly grins from those around the table.

"He's probably busy with General Kenobi, planning the next move," Rex replied, his tone casual but his eyes crinkling with amusement. There was a shared understanding in his words, a recognition of something more between Cody and the Jedi General.

"Yeah, those 'strategy meetings' sure seem to be doing him good," another trooper, Kix, added, air-quoting with his fingers. "Haven't seen the Commander this... relaxed, in ages."

The group erupted into soft laughter, the sound echoing warmly off the metal walls. It was true - Cody, their respected Commander, had always carried the weight of responsibility like a second skin. But lately, there had been a change in him, a lightness that was rare in the life of a clone commander. And they all knew, without needing it spelled out, that General Kenobi was at the heart of that change.

"Good for him," Fives chimed in, his voice earnest. "If anyone deserves a bit of happiness, it's Cody. He's always looking out for us, like a big brother."

There was a chorus of agreement, a sentiment deeply felt among the clones. Cody had been more than just a commander to them; he was a mentor, a protector, the one who always had their backs.

"And Rex, you must be especially happy for him, huh?" Jesse teased, elbowing Rex playfully. "Seeing your favorite brother getting some well-deserved peace."

Rex rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his true feelings. "Hey, I don't play favorites," he protested, but the warmth in his voice belied his words. Everyone at the table knew of the close bond between Rex and Cody, a relationship that went beyond rank and duty.

As the conversation continued, with the clones sharing stories and laughter, there was a palpable sense of happiness for their Commander. They might not speak openly about the nature of Cody's relationship with General Kenobi, but their subtle glances and smiles spoke volumes. They were happy for Cody, happy that in the midst of a war that demanded so much from them, he had found a source of joy, a connection that brought him peace.

Unbeknownst to Anakin Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano, who remained oblivious to the undercurrents among their troops, the clones had become the silent guardians of a secret. It was a secret they held not out of duty, but out of love and respect for two men who had become much more than just their commanders. In the camaraderie of the mess hall, among brothers who shared everything from battle scars to dreams, this was one more bond they carried - a silent vow to protect the happiness of one of their own.

****

On the desolate plains of Zereth, where the winds howled like ancient spirits and the ground was etched with the scars of previous conflicts, the forces of the Galactic Republic prepared to engage once more. The sky, a brooding canvas of gunmetal gray, loomed ominously over the battlefield, mirroring the gravity of the impending clash. Here, on this forsaken world, General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody stood at the forefront, leading the 212th Attack Battalion and the 501st Legion into the fray.

As the two armies converged, the air was filled with the deafening roar of blaster fire and the guttural cries of combat. Obi-Wan, his lightsaber a blazing arc of azure, moved with a grace that belied the ferocity of his attacks. Each movement was fluid, a dance of light and shadow, as he parried and struck with lethal precision. His presence on the battlefield was like a beacon, rallying the troops around him, instilling them with a courage that went beyond mere duty.

Beside him, Commander Cody orchestrated the movements of the clones with the skill of a master tactician. His orders were crisp, clear, delivered with an authority that commanded respect. Yet, there was an undercurrent of protectiveness in his voice, a subtle indication of his deep concern for the men under his command. His blaster rifle was an extension of his will, each shot a testament to his unwavering focus and commitment.

The synergy between Obi-Wan and Cody was palpable, a seamless interplay of strengths and strategies that turned the tide of battle time and again. They moved in concert, anticipating each other's actions with an ease that spoke of a bond forged in the heat of countless battles. To the casual observer, they were a General and his Commander, united in their goal to secure victory for the Republic. But to those who knew them, who had seen the looks exchanged in quiet moments, their connection ran much deeper.

In the midst of the chaos, a moment of near calamity struck. A separatist tank, its cannons roaring, took aim at Obi-Wan. Time seemed to slow as the realization dawned on Cody. With a shout that was both a warning and a vow, he leaped into action, firing at the tank with a ferocity that was born of something more than just duty. His actions diverted the tank's attention, but not before a blast grazed Obi-Wan, sending him tumbling to the ground.

The reaction among the clones was immediate, a collective surge of concern for their General. But it was Cody who reached Obi-Wan first, his expression a mix of relief and reprimand. "General, you need to be more careful," he said, his voice betraying the depth of his worry.

Obi-Wan, wincing slightly from the impact, met Cody's gaze with a rueful smile. "Thank you, Cody. I'll endeavor to remember that," he replied, his words light but his eyes conveying a wealth of gratitude.

As they returned to the fight, their movements became even more synchronized, a dance of survival and defiance against the overwhelming odds. The clones, witnessing this, fought with renewed vigor, inspired by the unspoken bond between their leaders.

As the battle on Zereth raged with unrelenting fury, the air was thick with the acrid smell of blaster fire and the scorched earth. The sky, once a sullen gray, was now ablaze with the crisscross of laser bolts and the fiery trails of starfighters dueling overhead. Amidst this chaos, General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody stood as pillars of strength, their leadership an anchor in the tumultuous storm of war.

Obi-Wan, his Jedi robes billowing in the wind stirred up by the battle, moved with a sense of purpose that was both awe-inspiring and daunting. His lightsaber danced in his hands, a whirlwind of blue light that deflected blaster bolts and parried enemy attacks with a precision that spoke of years of training and experience. Yet, there was more to his movements than mere martial skill; each step, each swing of his blade, was underscored by a deep understanding of the Force, a connection that guided him through the melee.

Cody, his armor marked with the scars of battle, was a commanding presence on the battlefield. His voice, amplified by his helmet's comms system, cut through the din of combat, issuing orders with a clarity that left no room for doubt. He was the embodiment of discipline and strategy, his mind constantly assessing the ebb and flow of the battle, adapting tactics to meet the ever-changing tide.

The bond between Obi-Wan and Cody was a silent force unto itself, an unspoken understanding that permeated their every action. They moved through the battlefield with a synchronicity that was almost preternatural, a testament to the countless hours spent training and fighting side by side. When Obi-Wan advanced, Cody covered him, his blaster rifle a steady presence that kept enemy fire at bay. When Cody maneuvered the troops, Obi-Wan was there, his lightsaber a beacon amidst the darkness, guiding and protecting.

In a particularly fierce skirmish, a group of droids flanked the Republic forces, their blasters trained on the unsuspecting troops. Sensing the danger, Obi-Wan reached out with the Force, his awareness extending beyond the physical realm. At the same moment, Cody, perceiving the threat through the bond they shared, shouted a warning and directed the clones to form a defensive line.

Obi-Wan, with a swift motion of his hand, used the Force to push the droids back, buying precious time for Cody and the troops to regroup and retaliate. The synergy of their actions, the seamless integration of Force and military strategy, turned the tide of the skirmish, driving the droids back with a ferocity that spoke of their unwavering resolve.

As the battle wore on, the toll it took on the soldiers was evident. Exhaustion set in, the relentless pace of combat a grueling test of endurance and will. Yet, through it all, the bond between Obi-Wan and Cody never wavered. They were a constant for each other, a source of strength and reassurance in the heart of the storm.

In the quieter moments, when the blaster fire ebbed and the cries of combat faded into a tense silence, they would exchange glances. These brief interludes, laden with unspoken words and shared understanding, were a reminder of the depth of their connection. It was a bond forged not just in the heat of battle but in the moments of quiet reflection, in the shared burdens of leadership, and in the unwavering commitment to their duty.

As the battle drew to a close, with the Republic forces emerging victorious but weary, Obi-Wan and Cody stood side by side, surveying the aftermath. Their expressions were somber, a reflection of the cost of war, but there was also a sense of accomplishment, a knowledge that they had once again overcome the odds.

In the quiet that followed, as the troops began the somber task of tending to the wounded and honoring the fallen, Obi-Wan turned to Cody. "We did well today, Commander," he said, his voice low but imbued with pride and gratitude.

Cody nodded, his gaze meeting Obi-Wan's. "We did, General. And we'll continue to do so, as long as the galaxy needs us." His words were a vow, a promise that extended beyond the battlefield, a pledge of unwavering support and loyalty.

As they walked back to their command post, their steps in unison, there was a sense of completeness, a feeling that, no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, with the unbreakable bond they shared—a bond of trust, respect, and an unspoken love that was their greatest strength in a galaxy torn apart by war.

****

The dawn on Zereth broke with a crimson hue, painting the skies with the foreboding colors of war. As the first rays of light pierced the horizon, they cast long shadows over the battered landscape, a stark reminder of the battle that had raged the day before. The air was heavy with the scent of ionized blaster residue and charred earth, a tangible echo of the conflict that had unfolded.

The Republic forces, weary yet resolute, prepared to face the enemy once again. General Obi-Wan Kenobi, standing amidst his troops, exuded a calm determination. His presence was a stabilizing force, his confidence in the face of adversity an inspiration to the men who looked up to him. Commander Cody, ever at his side, reviewed the tactical displays, his mind a whirlwind of strategies and contingencies.

As the battle commenced, the air was filled with the cacophony of war – the relentless staccato of blaster fire, the deep rumble of artillery, and the piercing screams of starfighters overhead. Obi-Wan, lightsaber in hand, moved with a fluid grace, a specter of blue light weaving through the chaos. His every action was precise, calculated to protect and strike with maximum efficiency.

Cody, his blaster rifle at the ready, coordinated the movements of the clones with unwavering focus. His voice, amplified by his helmet's comms, was a constant in the tumult, guiding and directing, a beacon of clarity in the fog of war.

The synergy between Obi-Wan and Cody was more than just a product of their shared experiences; it was a connection that ran deep, a mutual understanding that transcended the chaos that surrounded them. They moved in tandem, a seamless interplay of Force and military acumen that bolstered the morale of the troops and turned the tide in several critical moments.

But war is an unpredictable beast, and in a fleeting, heart-stopping instant, the unimaginable happened. A separatist tank, hidden amongst the rubble, unleashed a barrage of fire that caught Obi-Wan off-guard. The blast sent him sprawling to the ground, his lightsaber skittering away into the debris.

Cody, witnessing the scene, felt a surge of panic grip his heart. Time seemed to slow as he saw Obi-Wan fall, the General's body limp and vulnerable amidst the battlefield's fury. Military protocol and strategic planning vanished from his mind, replaced by a single, overriding imperative – to reach Obi-Wan, to protect him at all costs.

Breaking formation, Cody charged across the battlefield, his blaster laying down a covering fire, his every step driven by a desperate need to get to Obi-Wan. The clones, sensing the urgency in their Commander's actions, rallied to provide support, their blasters joining in a symphony of defiance against the enemy.

Reaching Obi-Wan's side, Cody fell to his knees, his hands frantically searching for signs of life. "General, can you hear me?" he called out, his voice strained with fear and concern.

Obi-Wan, groaning in pain, stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open. "Cody..." he whispered, his voice weak but filled with an unspoken gratitude.

Cody's relief was palpable, a weight lifted from his shoulders. But there was no time to rest; they were still in the heart of the battlefield, exposed and vulnerable. With a strength born of desperation, Cody hoisted Obi-Wan into his arms, his resolve a solid anchor in the midst of chaos.

As he carried Obi-Wan to safety, the clones formed a protective ring around them, their blasters warding off the enemy. The bond between General and Commander, a bond that had always been more than just duty, was now a visible force, a testament to the depth of their connection.

Through the blur of battle and the haze of pain, Obi-Wan held onto Cody, his trust in the Commander unwavering. In Cody's arms, amidst the harrowing storm of war, Obi-Wan found a haven, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, they would always have each other's backs.

And as they retreated to the safety of their lines, the clones watched with a mix of awe and respect. In the actions of their Commander, in his fearless rush to save the General, they saw not just the duties of rank, but the actions of a man driven by a profound loyalty and care. In that moment, Cody and Obi-Wan were more than leaders; they were symbols of the enduring strength of the human spirit, a beacon of hope in a galaxy torn asunder by conflict.

The Negotiator, a bastion amidst the stars, loomed like a sentinel over the ravaged landscape of Zereth. Within its reinforced hull, the atmosphere was charged with a tension that mirrored the ongoing conflict on the planet below. In the medical bay, a haven of sterile lights and the quiet hum of medical droids, a new urgency took hold as General Obi-Wan Kenobi was rushed in, his body bearing the grim testament of battle.

Commander Cody, his armor stained with the dust and smoke of the battlefield, accompanied Obi-Wan, his demeanor a mix of steadfast resolve and concealed turmoil. As they entered the medical bay, the medical droid known as Bones moved with mechanical efficiency, its sensors and appendages immediately attending to the injured Jedi.

Cody stood by Obi-Wan's side, his gaze locked on the General's pale face, etched with lines of pain and fatigue. The sight stirred a tumult of emotions within him – concern, fear, and an overwhelming sense of protectiveness. He wanted to stay, to be there when Obi-Wan awoke, to reassure him with his presence. Yet, he knew what Obi-Wan would expect of him – to return to the battle, to lead their men, to fulfill the duty that they both held sacred.

As Bones worked, its mechanical voice delivering clinical assessments, Obi-Wan's eyelids fluttered, a sign of the struggle raging within his battered body. "Cody," he murmured, his voice a mere whisper, "the battle..."

Cody leaned in, his hand finding Obi-Wan's. "I'm here, General," he said softly, his voice a blend of reassurance and regret. "Bones will take care of you. I'll... I'll return to the front."

Obi-Wan's eyes opened, a glint of determination shining through the pain. "You must lead them, Cody," he rasped, his words laced with the weight of command and a deeper, unspoken bond. "Our men... they need you."

Cody's jaw tightened, a visible struggle between his personal desire to stay and his duty as a commander. "I'll come back as soon as I can," he promised, the words heavy with unspoken emotions.

With a final, lingering look, Cody turned and strode out of the medical bay, his posture that of a commander, but his pace betraying a reluctance to leave. The doors hissed shut behind him, leaving Obi-Wan in the capable hands of Bones.

Outside, the members of the 212th and 501st watched in silence, their expressions a mix of concern and admiration. They had witnessed the unbreakable bond between their General and Commander, a bond that went beyond the chain of command, rooted in mutual respect and a shared history of battles fought and hardships endured.

As Cody approached his troops, his helmet concealing the storm of emotions within, he was met with salutes of respect and loyalty. The clones knew the weight of what their Commander carried, the burden of leadership and the personal cost of war.

With a nod, Cody addressed his men, his voice strong and clear, masking the turmoil within. "The General is in good hands. Our duty is not yet done. We have a battle to win, for the Republic, for our brothers, and for General Kenobi."

The clones responded with a unified shout, their resolve hardened by the words of their Commander. They were more than just soldiers; they were a brotherhood, united in their mission and in their silent support for the leaders who had guided them through the darkest of times.

As they returned to the battlefield, the resolve in their hearts was a testament to the lessons learned from Obi-Wan and Cody - that duty and honor were the cornerstones of their existence, but it was the bonds of brotherhood and loyalty that gave them strength. In the midst of war, these bonds were their unspoken vow, a promise to stand together against all odds, for the Republic, for each other, and for the leaders who had shown them the true meaning of courage and sacrifice.

As Commander Cody re-emerged onto the battlefield of Zereth, the landscape was a tumultuous sea of blaster fire and echoing war cries. The horizon, smeared with the smoke of burning wreckage, served as a grim backdrop to the ongoing conflict. Cody, his armor now a testament to the harsh realities of war, moved with a renewed sense of urgency, driven by a dual purpose – to lead his men to victory and to return to Obi-Wan's side.

Each step he took was heavy with the weight of responsibility and a deep-seated longing for an end to the strife. The clatter of his boots against the scorched earth was drowned out by the cacophony of battle, yet in his mind, it resonated with the echoes of his unspoken desires – for peace, for a life beyond the endless cycle of war.

As he advanced, his blaster rifle in hand, Cody became a whirlwind of lethal precision. His movements were not just those of a seasoned soldier; they were the actions of a man fueled by a potent mix of duty and personal resolve. He issued commands with a clear, authoritative voice, guiding his troops through the maelstrom with a tactical acumen honed by years of combat.

The clones of the 212th and 501st followed him, their blasters a steady rhythm in the chaotic symphony of the battlefield. They fought not just as soldiers, but as brothers, their loyalty to Cody and Obi-Wan a driving force that propelled them forward against overwhelming odds.

In the heat of battle, Cody's thoughts were a swirling tempest of strategy and emotion. Each time he felled an enemy, each time he directed his troops, a part of him yearned for the conclusion of this endless war. He envisioned a life where the clatter of blasters was replaced by the tranquility of peace, where he and Obi-Wan could explore the galaxy, not as warriors, but as companions free from the shadows of conflict.

But such thoughts were fleeting, quickly eclipsed by the immediacy of the battle. The reality of the moment was harsh and unyielding, a constant reminder of the duties that bound him. Yet, even amidst the chaos, there was a glimmer of hope that spurred him on – the hope of being by Obi-Wan's side once the fight was over.

As the battle raged on, Cody tore through the enemy ranks with a fierce determination. Each droid he dismantled, each position he secured, brought him a step closer to ending the conflict, to returning to the Negotiator, to Obi-Wan.

The fight seemed to stretch on interminably, a relentless tide of adversaries that tested the limits of Cody's endurance and resolve. But through it all, his mind held onto a singular image – Obi-Wan, injured but alive, waiting for him. This vision, this promise of a reunion, however brief, was a beacon that guided him through the darkest moments of the battle.

Finally, as the last of the enemy forces were vanquished, and the dust of war began to settle, Cody allowed himself a moment to breathe. The landscape around him was a stark reminder of the cost of victory – a once vibrant world now scarred and broken. Yet, amidst the devastation, there was a sense of accomplishment, a hard-won triumph that brought them one step closer to the end of the war.

Cody's gaze turned skyward, towards the Negotiator orbiting above. A mix of exhaustion and anticipation coursed through him. The battle was over, for now, but his mission was not yet complete. With a final, resolute nod to his troops, he began the journey back to the ship, back to Obi-Wan. In the depths of his heart, he held onto the hope that soon, perhaps sooner than they dared to dream, they would find the peace they both longed for, and the life they wished to build together.

****

The journey back to the Negotiator was a blur for Commander Cody. The roar of the transport’s engines was a distant rumble, lost amidst the whirlwind of his own thoughts and emotions. As the ship docked with the Negotiator, the familiar sound of the airlock engaging brought a measure of reality back to Cody. He was back, but his heart was already racing ahead, yearning to be at Obi-Wan’s side.

Beside him, Captain Rex stood silently, his presence a solid, comforting constant. Rex, who had become more than just a fellow soldier over the years, was the only one to whom Cody had ever revealed the depth of his feelings for Obi-Wan. He was his confidant, his most trusted ally, his 'favorite little brother' in a sea of brothers – though Cody would never openly admit it.

As they disembarked, Cody’s steps were brisk, his focus singular. Rex matched his pace, a silent guardian keeping stride with the storm of worry and anticipation brewing within Cody. The corridors of the Negotiator, usually a hive of activity, seemed unusually quiet, as if the ship itself was holding its breath, sharing in Cody’s anxiety.

Rex broke the silence, his voice low and steady. "He's strong, Cody. You know that better than anyone. He'll pull through this."

Cody nodded, his helmet tucked under his arm, revealing the taut lines of concern etched on his face. "I know, Rex. I just need to see him, to be there with him." His voice was a mix of determination and vulnerability, a rare glimpse into the depth of his emotions.

They continued in silence, passing crew members who offered salutes and respectful nods. Cody acknowledged them absently, his mind consumed with thoughts of Obi-Wan. Memories of their shared moments – quiet conversations, shared glances, the warmth of Obi-Wan’s smile – flooded his mind, each a poignant reminder of what he stood to lose.

Upon reaching the medical bay, Cody paused outside the door, collecting himself. This was where he left the Commander outside and stepped in as the man who loved Obi-Wan Kenobi. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside, with Rex following a step behind, a silent pillar of support.

The medical bay was a stark contrast to the chaos of the battlefield, its white walls and the soft hum of medical equipment creating an atmosphere of clinical calm. Bones, the medical droid, was attending to Obi-Wan, who lay on a bed, his features drawn in pain but stable.

Cody’s eyes softened as he approached, the sight of Obi-Wan stirring a tumult of relief and concern within him. He reached out, gently taking Obi-Wan’s hand, the touch a silent testament to the bond they shared.

"Hey, you," Cody murmured, a tender smile touching his lips. "You had us worried there for a moment."

Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Cody’s gaze. "Had to keep you on your toes, Commander," he replied, his voice weak but imbued with warmth.

Rex, standing a respectful distance away, watched the exchange with a sense of brotherly pride. He understood the magnitude of what Cody and Obi-Wan shared, a bond that transcended rank and the chaos of war. It was a love that had flourished against all odds, a testament to the strength of their characters.

Cody’s gaze lingered on Obi-Wan, his thumb gently stroking the back of Obi-Wan’s hand. "You need to rest, General. We'll handle things out here."

Obi-Wan gave a faint nod, his eyes conveying his trust and gratitude. "I know you will, Cody. I have always known."

As Cody sat beside Obi-Wan, watching over him, Rex quietly excused himself, leaving the two in their private sanctuary. He stepped out of the medical bay, a sense of peace settling over him. Cody and Obi-Wan had each other, and that was enough. In a galaxy torn apart by war, their love was a rare beacon of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, the human spirit could find connection and solace in another’s heart.

And as Rex walked back through the corridors of the Negotiator, he carried with him the knowledge that he had played a part in protecting that beacon, by being there for his brother, for Cody, when he needed it the most.

****

In the quietude of the medical bay, time seemed to slow, its passage marked only by the soft beeping of the monitors and the gentle whir of medical equipment. The room, bathed in a soft, ambient light, was a stark contrast to the chaotic tapestry of war outside its walls. Here, amidst the sterility and precision of medical technology, a different kind of battle was being fought - a battle for recovery, for healing.

Commander Cody sat beside Obi-Wan Kenobi's bed, his posture rigid, a silent sentinel keeping watch. His armor had been removed, leaving him in his basic fatigues, a rare sight that underscored the gravity of the situation. His eyes, usually so sharp and alert, now held a softness, a depth of emotion seldom seen by anyone but Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan, lying on the bed, appeared smaller somehow, the lines of pain and exhaustion etched into his features softening in sleep. The usual air of calm command that he carried like a mantle was replaced by a vulnerability that was heartbreakingly human. His breathing was steady, a reassuring rhythm in the stillness of the room.

Cody watched him, his gaze lingering on the rise and fall of Obi-Wan's chest, each breath a silent reassurance. In these quiet moments, away from the prying eyes of the galaxy, he allowed the façade of the unflappable commander to fall away, revealing the man beneath – a man deeply in love, fiercely protective, and achingly worried.

He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering over Obi-Wan's before gently settling atop it. The contact was a lifeline, a tangible connection that bridged the silence of the room. "You always have to be the hero, don't you?" Cody whispered, a faint smile touching his lips, a mix of fond exasperation and deep affection coloring his words.

Obi-Wan stirred at the sound of Cody's voice, a faint smile mirroring Cody's own. His eyes fluttered open, meeting Cody's gaze with a clarity that spoke of his resilience. "Comes with the job, I suppose," he replied, his voice soft but steady.

Cody's smile widened, a genuine expression that reached his eyes. "Well, this time, let someone else be the hero. You need to rest, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan's hand shifted, fingers curling slightly to grip Cody's. "You're doing a fine job at it," he murmured, the gentle tease a testament to the ease and comfort they found in each other's presence.

As they sat in silence, the room around them felt like a bubble, a sanctuary amidst the turmoil of the galaxy. In the medical bay, they were not General and Commander; they were simply Obi-Wan and Cody, two souls intertwined by a bond that had weathered countless storms.

The tenderness of their interaction, the soft exchange of smiles and quiet words, was a stark contrast to their battlefield personas. Here, there were no blasters, no lightsabers, no commands to issue or strategies to devise. There was only the shared understanding, the mutual care that had grown and deepened over time, becoming something profound and unshakeable.

As Cody continued his vigil, watching over Obi-Wan as he drifted back into sleep, he felt a sense of peace settle over him. In the med bay, with the soft hum of machines and the gentle rhythm of Obi-Wan's breathing, the war seemed a distant echo. Here, in this moment, they had found an oasis of calm, a reminder that amidst the chaos of the galaxy, they had each other, a connection that was their anchor, their solace, their home.

As the steady rhythm of the Negotiator’s heartbeats echoed through its corridors, the medical bay remained a cocoon of tranquility, insulated from the turmoil of the outside world. Inside this sanctuary, the passage of time seemed to take on a different quality, each moment stretching out, filled with a quiet intensity.

Commander Cody, sitting vigilantly by Obi-Wan Kenobi's bedside, was lost in a reverie, his thoughts a tangle of memories and hopes. The soft hum of medical equipment provided a continuous backdrop to his reflections, a reminder of the fragility of the moment. He watched Obi-Wan, his eyes tracing the familiar lines of the Jedi's face, each one a testament to the battles fought and burdens carried.

In the dim light of the bay, Obi-Wan's features were softened, the usual sharpness tempered by sleep and vulnerability. His chest rose and fell with a rhythmic slowness, a visual lullaby that held Cody in a gentle thrall. The sight stirred a deep well of emotions within him – a mix of fear, admiration, and an overwhelming sense of affection.

It was in this quiet tableau that Obi-Wan stirred, the subtle shift breaking the stillness. His hand, resting beside him, moved with an unconscious intent, reaching out. It was a small gesture, but in the silence of the room, it was as significant as a shout.

Cody's attention snapped to the movement, his body instinctively leaning forward. He watched, breath held, as Obi-Wan's hand hovered in the air, an unspoken plea. In his semi-conscious state, it was as if Obi-Wan was seeking something, or someone, to anchor him to the present.

Cody, understanding the unvoiced need, reached out and gently clasped Obi-Wan's hand, offering both physical support and an emotional connection. He watched as a faint smile touched Obi-Wan's lips, a sign that even in his weakened state, he recognized Cody's presence.

Moved by the moment, Cody leaned in closer, his movements deliberate yet filled with a tenderness that was at odds with his usual composure. He brought his face close to Obi-Wan's, their foreheads nearly touching. Then, in a gesture that was as natural as it was profound, he gently nuzzled against Obi-Wan, a tactile expression of love and reassurance.

The nuzzle, a simple act in itself, carried the weight of their shared history, of battles fought side by side, of quiet moments stolen amidst chaos. It was a testament to their bond, a connection that had grown and deepened in the crucible of war, transcending the roles they played in the galaxy.

Obi-Wan, responding even in his semi-conscious state, leaned into the touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips. It was a sound of contentment, of trust, a subtle acknowledgment of the comfort Cody's presence brought him.

Cody held the position for a moment longer, savoring the closeness, the rare opportunity to express his feelings without the constraints of duty and rank. In the med bay, with its sterile walls and life-saving machines, they were not General and Commander; they were just two souls, bound by an unspoken love that had become their refuge, their strength.

As he straightened, Cody's gaze lingered on Obi-Wan, a mix of worry and affection etched on his face. He squeezed Obi-Wan's hand gently before settling back into his chair, his vigil resumed. The room fell back into silence, a sacred space where the lines between protector and protected blurred, where the heart spoke louder than words, and where love, in its purest form, was the greatest healer of all.

I'd love to hear your thoughts, theories, and feelings about the story. Don't forget to like, reblog, and share your comments. Your engagement means the world to me!

May the Force be with you, always. 💫

#codywanbingo #codywan #commander cody fanfiction #commander cody x obi wan #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan kenobi #swfandom #star wars fandom #star wars fanfiction #romance #star wars the clone wars fanfiction #nuzzling #inner conflict

20 notes · View notes